#and 2) that existence continues to live up to its name

[stick2vamp]

.. sebatsian meets an old friend again (reader) after he was put in prison and taken by urbanshade… reader was sent to the blacksite by urbanshade but they don’t recognize sebastian (i’m in need of angst)

𝜗 ˖ ❝ why can't we laugh now, like we did then? ᵕ ♡

— in which time has flown by: you look the same, yet he looks so different. ✧

↷　 sfw 𓈒 decided to lump these two asks together cause they're similar 𓈒 angst 𓈒 sebastian backstory spoilers 𓈒 lowkey (highkey) rushed

12 years.

It's been 12 years since they took him away for good.

12 years since he died.

You knew he couldn't have done it: sure, SEBASTIAN has a bit of a smart tongue, but he would never actually harm another person. Let alone kill 9 others. Yet, the charged him for it. Yet, they sentenced him to death row. Yet, they electrocuted him to death.

And only 2 years after they killed him, did they finally realize he wasn't the murderer. 2 years after they took him from you, did they finally realize they made a mistake.

How old would he have been now? 32? No, 31: his birthday hasn't passed yet. Speaking of his birthday, you should probably celebrate for him soon.

But it's hard to celebrate when you ended up in prison yourself.

Same as your late friend, you had been falsely accused. Same as your late friend, you had been sentenced to death row. Same as your late friend, you were going to die.

You wondered: would they put you on the same chair he once sat on?

You would never find out.

A company—Urbanshade, as they called themselves—showed up within your final days. They offered a way out, a chance to live, a chance to redeem. Of course, given the awards, it was nothing short of sketchy. It would be a big risk.

You signed up, along with many others.

It didn't matter anyway. Worst case scenario, you would die either way. You had to try and live for Sebastian. To make it to his birthday, and celebrate it for him.

Suited up in diving gear, a collar-like mechanism attached to your neck, you were ready to go.

You passed door 31.

While you were expecting the dangers that came with a mission like this, you weren't expecting them to be.. well, this.

Entities whose entire body was simply a face rushed up and down the halls, mangling everything in their path. Their razor, jagged teeth could easily tear your human flesh to shreds. Shrouded squid-like entities that scream as you shine your light at them or stand too close. A deformed bull shark with its thousands of eyes pulling you, ushering you to look at it. All entities that didn't make sense, yet still existed before your very eyes—and ears.

Door after door, you awaited a threat to show up. Would the lights flicker? Would they already be off? Would a giant window be looking into the whole room?

None of those.

Instead, a vent flew open,

—and for once, you heard a humanoid voice.

The thing—person, you reminded yourself—in the vent was not human, though. His voice did not belong to... his appearance.

His skin was a grey-blue color, matching the color of a fish more than a human. He had hair, though, and front-facing eyes. Predators eyes always faced forward, didn't they?

The.. being looked up from his tail, glowing cyan eyes scanning over your figure. He suddenly fell silent, loosing whatever words were on his tongue—well, if he had a tongue.

A look of recognition flashed in his eyes as if he had found something familiar within you. Admittedly, you found his voice fairly familiar yourself.

His tail lowered, no longer flaunting the items on display.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"[Reader]?" His name escaped his mouth (which, you now realized he did in fact have a tongue) as an almost hushed whisper. He hesitated, his mouth staying open for a few seconds more as if about to say something else before it slowly closed. He continues to stare, stare and fall silent once more.

The way he said your name was a tone that screamed yearning.

And it pulled at your heartstrings.

The way he said your name as if he had known you for his whole life, made you pause for a second.

He knew you—or, at least thought he did—but you didn't know him.

"I'm sorry," you started, speaking before you could realize just how wrong you were, "But, do we know each other?"

He blinked.

You learned his name was Sebastian—and you figured that was probably why he seemed a bit familiar to you. He reminded you of your friend, of course. Same name, similar voice, snappy tongue.. It's as if you were looking at a reflection of your late friend.

Sebastian let you stay for a bit and buy from him, occasionally making small talk. You were amazed by how low the prices were. Only 30 for one battery? You were sure it'd be something like 75 instead!

As you picked up yet another battery, he spoke to you. "Wise choice to stock up on those. There aren't very many of them down here."

"Really? I've found quite a few," You mumbled as you stuffed it into your pocket, simultaneously taking out some research and placing it on the table.

"Of course you did," Sebastian mused, grumbling slightly. He fiddled with his claws, glancing away from you.

You paused, "What's that supposed to mean?" You casted a narrowed glance over to him.

"Nothing, nothing."

Of course he couldn't expect you to recognize him. Not when they had turned him into a monster. Mutated him until nothing but his voice was slightly recognizable. Even then, years of smoking and being stuck here made his voice more gravelly than it used to be.

Sebastian knew this, but it still stung when you looked away from him without any indication you knew who he was.

Nothing was left between the two of you anymore.

But his heart, bruised and bleeding, still wished for you.

Maybe that's why he gave discounts to you. Maybe that's why he contained his snappy tongue for once. Maybe that's why he casted you an almost desperate look when you told me you were going.

And maybe that's why he wished he reached out for you—but he didn't. He let you crawl back through that went. Sebastian let you leave him just as he left you.

So when you met him again, in the dimly dark room where he slid you a file,

—maybe that's why he vowed to make sure you make it to celebrate his birthday with him.

[autismswagsummit]

Got a post in my reccomended that reminded me of something I need to make clear, that's gone poorly addressed here until now.

Last year, while you may remember it fondly, the toxicity demonstrated by my voters and fanbase regarding who to vote for (especially during the later rounds) was genuinely atrocious. It moved well beyond the point of lighthearted competition and into genuine vile behavior and often ableism that I cannot let slide as we go further into season 2. This extends to (and is primarily relevant to) Donatello fans. I give you guys a lot of credit for the success and fun of this blog, but it is pertinent that you also remember that Donatello fans in particular were credited with the most cruel attitudes in the wake of Mob's victory. I understand being upset because of a loss, but this is ridiculous.

I am not "calling out" or targeting anyone in particular with this. I am well aware that this behavior does not belong to all of you. The majority of yall are darlings and I couldn't be more grateful for your support. But I let you all off way too easy last time.

Let me make it clear: You are voting on your favorite autistic headcanon/canon character. The metric of "autism swag" does not exist, and should never be used to bully or harass other voters. It's a title that was made up and based off of the names of the other poll bloggers at the time, not a real concept. It is not serious, nobody is winning anything besides a PNG that gets put next to their character if they win.

If I catch wind of any genuine death threats, bigotry, or otherwise unnecessary cruelty sent towards any participants during the course of this season, I will start disqualifying characters. If you cannot keep it civil when polls are live, I see no reason why you should be rewarded with your character's victory.

I deeply apologize to anyone who has been by this cruelty. It is my responsibility as this blog's operator to keep behavior civil, and it's something I've been mishandling up until now. This poll has grown well beyond what I originally thought it would be, it has since day one, and I need to prioritize learning how to handle its reach if it's something I want to continue.

The polls will still run as scheduled, this is not an announcement of a delay or cancelation, simply a firm reminder of where I stand on the harassment demonstrated by people in my follower base.

Thank you for your time and understanding. I hope going forward we can all be kinder to eachother, and understand that at the end of the day, we are here to show love towards our favorites, not hatred towards strangers that have done nothing to you.

[dominantslasherking]

Armand With Dominant Male S/o pt 2

Backstory: Louis and Armand talk to Daniel about you. Armands, strange feelings and possessiveness of you is revealed. The obsession that Armand reveals for you is unsettling, Daniel can't help but wonder, what happened to you.

Authors note: heres part 2. click here for part 1. Tell me if you want a final part 3, which would be, sex.

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

The following evening, the soft hum of the dark outside was muted by the tension inside Louis and Armand’s apartment. Daniel Molloy, with his usual casual demeanor, entered the dimly lit space, clutching his laptop and a leather folder. The previous night's revelations had stirred something in him, a hunger for more information about the enigmatic [Your Name], the vampire whose existence seemed to linger between Louis and Armand like a forgotten melody. Louis, dressed in his usual understated elegance, stood by the window, his back to Daniel while muttering a soft tune to the volin playing through the speakers.

Armand, seated at the dining table, his caramel-toned skin glowing softly under the elegant light bulb, observed Daniel with an unreadable expression. The sharp angles of Armand’s face, framed by his dark, wavy hair, gave him an ethereal presence—his deep brown eyes tinted with orange, so often intense and calculating, betrayed nothing.

Daniel set down his recorder and laptop on the table before opening the folder and placing it next to the recorder. He smiled awkwardly, clearing his throat as he took a seat. “I’ve had some time to think about what we discussed yesterday. About [Your Name].” He let the words hang in the air, watching the way Louis’ posture stiffened slightly. Daniel slightly fixed his glasses as he stared at his computer.

Louis finally turned from the window, his dark eyes meeting Daniel’s. “Yes. I imagine you’ve found more to ask about him.” His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of unease that Armand noticed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Louis took his seat beside Armand, placing Claudia’s diary on the table—a relic from a time long past, its pages filled with the ramblings, insights, and sometimes unsettling thoughts of a vampire trapped in a body far too young for the horrors she’d witnessed.

Daniel glanced at the diary, flipping it open to where he had last left off. He furrowed his brow as he noticed something strange. “This wasn’t like this when I saw it last,” Daniel remarked, his voice cautious. He thumbed through the pages, stopping at a few that had clearly been repaired, the tears mended with meticulous care.

“You repaired the pages?” Daniel asked, glancing up at Louis.

Louis sighed, his fingers trailing over the table’s surface. “I did,” he admitted quietly. “There were things… things I couldn’t bear to read again.”

Armand’s gaze never left Louis, though his expression remained impassive. His voice, smooth and steady, cut through the silence. “The pages Louis tore out pertained to [Your Name],” he revealed. His words were calm, but the tension between him and Louis was palpable.

Daniel, ever the journalist, leaned in, intrigued. “Why rip them out? What was so important that you couldn’t stand to see it?”

Louis hesitated, his eyes flickering with something Daniel couldn’t quite place. He looked to Armand for a moment before speaking, his voice soft but firm. “Because they were Claudia’s thoughts. Her observations about me, about Armand… and about [Your Name].”

Armand’s fingers twitched slightly under the table, but he said nothing. Louis took a deep breath, his hand moving to rest gently on Armand’s. “She was… perceptive,” Louis continued, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “She knew things about our lives that I refused to acknowledge.”

Daniel’s curiosity deepened. He thumbed through a few more pages, stopping when something caught his eye. He began to read aloud, his voice filling the room with the words written by a vampire long gone.

“‘Armand is unfaithful to Louis,’” Daniel read, his tone almost cautious, testing the waters. ‘He thinks Louis doesn’t see it, but I do. I see everything. Armand’s heart may belong to Louis, but his soul (If he even has one) belongs to another. To [Your Name].’”

The room grew still, the weight of Claudia’s words settling like a heavy fog. Louis remained motionless, his hand still resting on Armand’s, but his grip tightened slightly.

“Claudia knew,” Daniel said softly, glancing between them. “She saw what was happening between Armand and [Your Name], but you… you didn’t?”

Louis’ eyes flickered, a mix of pain and resignation. “I saw it,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I chose not to believe it. I didn’t want to.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair, processing this new revelation. “So, you were blissfully unaware. Or rather, you wanted to be.”

Armand finally spoke, his voice calm, yet with a certain edge that made Daniel’s skin prickle. “Louis’ love for [Your Name] was always there, but he never acted on it. He feared losing what little he had left—losing me, losing Claudia. He couldn’t bear the thought of ruining it.”

Louis’ jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his eyes locked on the table.

“And you?” Daniel asked, turning his attention fully to Armand. “You were with Louis, but it seems [Your Name] was more than just a passing attraction for you.” Daniel said, typing away at his computer carefully.

Armand’s gaze darkened, but his voice remained steady. “I loved [Your Name]. Perhaps more deeply than I’ve ever loved anyone. He was... extraordinary. The way he saw the world, the way he moved through it. I couldn’t help myself.” He glanced at Louis, his expression softening ever so slightly. “But my love for [Your Name] didn’t erase what I felt for Louis. It’s not as simple as choosing one over the other.”

Daniel hummed thoughtfully, piecing it all together. “So, Claudia knew, Louis knew, and yet you all carried on. Why? Why not confront it?”

Armand let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Because we’re vampires, Daniel. We live with our sins, with our lies, because sometimes, they’re easier to bear than the truth.”

Louis finally broke his silence, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t lose them. Either of them. Not after Lestat, not after everything we’d been through.”

The silence in the room was deafening, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air.

Louis sat stiffly, his gaze unfocused as he absentmindedly rubbed his temple, his discomfort palpable. Armand’s expression was cool, his features serene, but there was a tension beneath it all—something simmering just beneath the surface.

Daniel, never one to let a moment of discomfort pass without prodding, leaned forward, tapping his notebook urgently. “Something doesn’t add up,” he said, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “Louis, you’ve been hurt before. Hell, you’ve been hurt over and over again. Lestat, Claudia...much more-- and now this? You’re telling me you’d just stay with another lover who ends up cheating? No, there’s more to this story.”

Louis shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hand pressing harder against his aching forehead. His dark eyes flicked to Armand, but he said nothing. Armand’s face remained impassive, though a faint twitch in his jaw betrayed him.

“There’s nothing else to it,” Armand said, his voice smooth but sharp, as if daring Daniel to push further. His deep brown eyes locked onto Daniel, his control over the situation tightening like a noose. Louis, under Armand’s thrall, said nothing, though his discomfort was clear in the lines of his body. The manipulation, subtle but strong, lingered in the air like a poisonous fog.

Daniel narrowed his eyes, sensing the unspoken tension between them but deciding to drop it, at least for now. He knew better than to push too hard when the truth was this fragile. “Fine,” he said, leaning back in his chair, though his pen still danced across the pages of his notebook. “But how about we delve into something else? Another story, maybe?”

Armand’s gaze flickered for a moment, but he nodded, leaning back in his chair as he spoke.

---

Armand sat with Louis on the velvet couch, his arm casually draped over Louis’ shoulder, their bond at the time seemingly unshakable. Claudia was off somewhere in the apartment, her presence as always felt but unseen.

The door opened softly, and [Your Name] walked in, his presence commanding without needing to say a word. He carried with him a drawing, carefully folded in his hands. His smoky red eyes scanned the room, as if making sure everything was as it should be.

“Claudia,” [Your Name] called softly, his voice melodic and rich.

Claudia appeared, her curls framing her face as she walked over with cautious curiosity. “What is it?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion, as it often was with gifts. But her suspicion melted away as [Your Name] handed her the portrait.

It was an abstract piece, hauntingly beautiful in its strange shapes and shadows, capturing the essence of Claudia’s form without exaggerating her youthful body. It was something more than a reflection—it was a tribute. Despite her usual aversion to seeing herself represented in any way, Claudia nearly jumped with joy, her eyes wide as she looked at the drawing, her face lighting up in a way it rarely did.

“It's... beautiful,” Claudia whispered, holding the drawing with a reverence that was almost foreign to her. She rushed over to Armand and Louis, showing it to them like a prize she had won. “Look! Look what he made!” Louis haden't seen her this happy in a while.

Armand, always composed, looked at the drawing and was struck by the raw, unsettling beauty of it. But what truly shocked him was the man who stood before him, the artist who had created such a masterpiece. [Your Name]. His smoky red eyes were focused, his sharp jaw moving slightly as he waited for their reactions.

For a brief moment, Armand was speechless, his deep brown eyes locked onto [Your Name]. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected Louis and Claudia to be acquainted with him, let alone so close to him. The intensity of Armand’s gaze was not lost on Louis, who noticed but chose to ignore it, as he often did when it came to things he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Beautiful work,” Armand finally said, his voice steady but laden with something deeper. Something obsessive.

The drawing was passed between them, admired for its haunting quality, but the true exchange of power in the room went unnoticed. Claudia’s joy, Louis’ quiet acknowledgment, and Armand’s growing fascination with [Your Name] were now intertwined, even if none of them realized it at the time.

---

The flashback faded, and the dim light of the apartment settled once again. Daniel, now intrigued more than ever, reached into his folder and pulled out something worn and faded. He gently placed it on the table, his fingers brushing against the fragile edges.

It was a drawing—Claudia’s portrait, old and worn with time but still visible, the haunting beauty still intact despite the years. Daniel’s eyes were sharp as he looked from the drawing to Armand and Louis. “Is this the one?” he asked, his voice low but intense.

Armand’s eyes widened slightly, his carefully composed facade cracking ever so slightly. Louis, too, looked genuinely shocked, his fingers tracing the edges of the worn paper. They had never expected to see it again—certainly not after all this time.

“I thought it had been destroyed,” Louis murmured, his voice filled with disbelief. Armand said nothing, his gaze locked onto the drawing as if seeing a ghost from his past.

Daniel, sensing their astonishment, leaned forward. “I picked it up at a pricey bargain,” he said with a slight smile, tapping the paper gently. “But I’d say it was worth it.”

Armand’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting to the worn-out signature at the bottom of the page. It was faint, nearly burnt out, but it was unmistakable. The signature of [Your Name].

Once it had seemed like a good more hour of talking, Daniel closed his laptop and called it a night.

After Daniel left the apartment, the door closing with a quiet click, the tension that had filled the room seemed to dissolve. Louis remained seated at the table, his thoughts lost in the past, when he felt a gentle brush of lips against his cheek. Armand stood over him, his touch tender, his expression soft but unreadable.

"I’ll return soon," Armand murmured, his voice low and comforting. Louis smiled faintly, his gaze following Armand as he made his way out of the room. He trusted Armand, as he always had, but there was a part of him that couldn’t shake the feeling of something... unsaid.

Armand’s steps were silent as he glided down the hallway, his destination clear in his mind. He passed through the grand archways of the apartment until he reached the library, where one of the blood donors—an obedient mortal, carefully chosen—waited silently. With a simple motion of his hand, Armand beckoned the man to follow him.

The two entered the library, the scent of old books and polished wood lingering in the air. Armand walked with purpose, his fingers grazing the spines of the countless volumes that lined the shelves. He spoke softly to the donor, his tone gentle yet commanding. "Your sacrifice is greatly appreciated," he said, his deep brown eyes not once meeting the man’s gaze. "Your family will receive the funds after this transaction, as promised."

The donor nodded, wordless but obedient, as Armand’s hand stopped on a particular book. He didn’t pull it out as one might expect. Instead, the book shifted slightly, triggering the mechanism of a hidden passageway. The library wall creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase that spiraled downwards into the shadows.

Armand descended the steps, the air growing cooler as they went deeper. The donor followed closely behind, his breath quickening with fear and anticipation. As they reached the bottom, the dim light illuminated a grand architectural room. The space was unlike anything else in the apartment, filled with the artistry of centuries. Paintings adorned the walls, handmade poems scattered across a nearby table, their words haunting and timeless. Sculptures, each more breathtaking than the last, were placed with precision and care. Vines hung from the columns, giving the space a Greek and Roman aesthetic—a temple for a forgotten god.

At the center of the room, bound in silver cuffs that attached to long, heavily restricted chains, was [Your Name]. His presence filled the room as much as the artwork surrounding him. Armand's steps slowed as he approached, a soft smile pulling at his lips. His voice, as smooth as silk, echoed gently through the space.

“Hello, my love,” Armand cooed, his dark eyes never leaving [Your Name]’s form. “I wouldn’t have needed to do this if you hadn’t tried to escape.” His smile was sweet, but there was a sinister undertone to his words. The chains clinked softly as [Your Name] shifted, his hands still busy working on a sculpture. He didn’t look at Armand immediately, his focus still on the statue he had been creating, the marble coming to life beneath his skilled hands.

But when [Your Name] finally turned his head to meet Armand’s gaze, the room seemed to still. Armand, with the speed of a striking serpent, vamp-sped toward him, his lips brushing against [Your Name]’s in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. There was a softness in Armand’s touch, but also the undeniable reminder of who held the power.

“I’ve brought you food,” Armand whispered against [Your Name]’s lips, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back slightly. His eyes flicked toward the donor, who stood silently by the doorway, his fate already sealed. “It’s been too long since you’ve fed properly.”

The donor’s heart raced, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he realized what he was. Not a sacrifice for his family, but a meal.

[Your Name] looked at the donor briefly, but his focus returned to Armand, their connection fraught with tension. The chains that bound him were a constant reminder of the twisted love that had brought them to this moment. Armand’s obsession was more than simple infatuation—it was possession, a need that consumed him as much as the hunger he had for blood.

Armand brushed a hand across [Your Name]’s face, his thumb grazing the corner of his mouth. “You won’t try to escape again, will you?” His voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the threat behind the question.

"I don't think fondly of being starved again, escaping sounds tempting, but I...doubt I could ever escape you." Your voiced hummed out, putting your sculpture tools down, as your lips connected with Armands, this time you taking the lead.

"I"m famished."

[naomikozura]

Love of My Life: Part 2

Heian Era! True Form! Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Fem!Reader

A/N: I want to put an actual paragraph warning in here. Remember this is Sukuna’s story during the Heian Era, using bits and pieces from what I've researched on JJK and him during this era.

This chapter shows INTENSE GRUESOME SCENES including torture, psychological torture, abuse, massacres, and burning buildings. This is a DARK THEME story, it is meant as a work of FICTION and its 18+ ONLY MDNI!!!!

Warnings: strong language, violence, mention of mass murder, angst, generational trauma, complicated family dynamics, family abuse, murder, emotional turmoil and abuse, manipulation, sadistic tendencies, corruption of power, dark themes, burning down villages, murder, masochistic tendencies, sadistic behavior, decapitation, prostitution, sex scenes (in a brothel), torture, psychological torture, (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.2K Series Masterlist

Part 1 || Part 3

The night was quiet, the aftereffects of your fight still lingering in the air. You hadn’t spoken to them for the rest of the evening, letting yourself sit with the hurt of your father’s words.  Your eyes were red, puffy from the silent tears you shed in the past hour. 

Defective. Wasted potential. Disgrace. 

Why has this been your life? Why were you born into one of the Four? Did you live a cruel existence in a past life, were you paying for the sins of your ancestors? Your father despised you being his daughter, hated that his claim was weakened because you were a daughter instead of a son, that you would never be as powerful as the sons of the other Families. You did everything to bring honor to your family. You studied, you trained, you focused on your inherited technique, you brought peace between villages with your kindness and political intelligence, you tried for the better part of your life to mold yourself into what your father wanted. You obeyed his demands, agreed to his greedy power tactics, even believed you were okay marrying Zetsubou  Zen’in when deep down you didn’t want to. You were more than just a pawn in his game, more than means to an end, more than just something to solidify your family name in the realm and create a greater power. 

Little did he know he was slowly pushing you to your brink. You believed you controlled yourself well, keeping composed in even the worst of situations but your composure slowly started to crumble with every new task he had for you. The pressure slowly built up and you couldn’t take it anymore, you didn’t want to sell your life away just for someone else to gain all the power. 

What a cruel life you were given. 

“Y/n”, you felt your heart skip a beat, a low rumble vibrating through you as your bones became hyper aware of who called your name. You turned around, your eyes meeting his deep red ones as he stood in your bedroom. You didn’t even begin to wonder how he got in, he was a gifted sorcerer, he could do anything.

“Ryo..”, you called his given name, not remembering when you had started but when he showed no distaste in your doing so, you continued to call him by name. 

“Come.”, it was all he needed to say as you nodded, slipping on your night robe and your shoes before following him through the back door of your home. You stayed glued to his side as he led you through the woods, suddenly realizing he was using his technique to hide both your cursed energy. He’d put a veil over the both of you to camouflage from any scouts patrolling the woods. 

Silence fell over the both of you, walking for about a half hour before reaching the end of the woods, a blue lake illuminated by the moon at the bottom of a slight hill. The water was bright, the moon reflecting beautifully to light up the water in a serene and breathtaking way. 

“The ground here is loose.”, he said blankly before grabbing you, picking you up in his arms as you sank into him, letting your head rest in the curve between his jaw and shoulder. He had a musk to him, a woodsy smell that brought comfort over you and let you relax into his touch. 

You wondered if you were the first person he’d touched like this? Deep down you knew he’d probably indulge in the company of concubines, he was a man with needs and one many couldn’t refuse. You were certain many of the women would jump at an opportunity to have the King of Curses in their bed. A sting grew in your chest at the thought. 

Once he’d reached the bottom, he set you down on the grass, your body small in comparison to his. He stared at you with curious eyes, the dichotomy of your existence in contrast with his was a wonder to him. He was grueling, sadistic, had the body that would make anyone recoil on sight, and held no remorse in his actions towards others. Meanwhile, you were kind, intimate, beautiful, and gifted. You had three of the most powerful names in this era asking for your hand in marriage, every man in surrounding towns having heard of the L/n daughter who was the heir to the L/n bloodline and being gifted with the Eye of Aurora. He knew your ability was powerful, strong enough to possibly even go head to head with him once you’d reached its full potential. Deep down he already knew you’d be considered one of the strongest sorcerer’s in the Heian era once you reached your full ability. 

He hadn’t come to terms with his reasoning for letting you live, for helping you, for feeling intense amounts of cursed energy at your distress. He wasn’t a man of emotion nor empathy. He saw emotion as a weakness, mundane, meaningless. He hated weak humans, despised the sight of overly emotional lackeys and often killed them on sight or elongated their emotional distress with mental torture. Emotion was something he disregarded and found useless, and yet it was the very thing that kept him from even thinking of bringing harm onto you. 

Was this punishment for his track record of horrific slayings? Were you sent by some being to punish him with your existence?

“Why are we here?”, your red eyes met his gaze, something in his chest burning at the sight of your defeated stare. He could tell you’d been crying, he felt your distress from across the realm and it burned him alive. He’d almost crossed across the entire woods just to show at your home and end your father’s life for laying a hand on you. 

“Your father.”, he started roughly. “He’s a pathetic excuse of a man, an insolent waste of human flesh.”

Your tired eyes widened at the hatred dripping from his lips, the words filled with venom as his eyes darkened. You’d heard about his anger and wrath among the scribes in your village, it was enough to wipe out an entire population and he’d done it multiple times before. You knew if he truly wanted to, he could end your father’s life with no hesitation.

You looked down at the water, watching as the water moved and the ripples distorted the moon, your chest hurting as it contracted. “He…”, you choked on your words, the break in your voice creating a rise of energy in him. “He thinks I’m defective, a disgrace to our family.”

His eyes looked over at you, the burning in his chest growing larger. 

“He threatened to get the elders from the Zen’in clan to exorcize my ability and… let me die without our ancestral guides”

He wasn’t much for believing in spiritual practices, but you’d grown up believing you needed your ancestors to guide you to the next life. it was a common belief within the families especially when you came face to face with cursed spirits constantly. They’d always been exorcized and seeing them cry out as you did knowing they’d just die, you wanted to believe there was a place where your soul could rest easy in the after. 

You felt a whirl of his cursed energy, feeling the rage boiling inside of him. A part of you feared what could happen to your father if Sukuna really wanted to get rid of him, but another sadistic, cruel part of you that you’d never encountered before told you that your father deserved whatever he had coming to him. After years of his grueling expectations, you started to hate your father for his greedy and selfish ways. You knew deep down in the hidden depths of your heart that you couldn’t bring yourself to feel remorse if he died. 

The exorcism of cursed energy was painful, you could easily say that due to how spirits cried when they would get absorbed. The exorcism of an inherited special ability was far worse. You’d heard stories of Yu L/n. He’d been exorcized of the Eye of Aurora and executed after he’d wiped out an entire village because he couldn’t control his technique. It was a horror story, a gruesome tale, it scared you to no end at the possibility that the same could happen to you. An exorcism of a special technique meant death. It was the most grueling way to torture and kill someone, leaving them alive meant they’d be a shell of a human, struggling and living at a lesser quality of life. No humane person would allow someone to live in such agony. Inherited techniques were bonded to the inheritors soul, binding together to make the energy and the human soul one for whatever lifespan the sorcerer had. It was the reason manipulation and control was easy for those who inherited special abilities, because it was connected to them in every way down to the genetic makeup of their bodies. 

You stood next to him in silence, your body numb of emotion as you recounted everything your father had said to you. Were you really wasted potential? Were you really defective? 

“I’ll kill him.”, his voice vibrated, your eyes staring at him while he focused on the body of water in front of the both of you. “I’ll make him suffer, perhaps exorcize his cursed energy to give him a taste of his own ignorance”

“Ryo, please.”, your soft voice sent a wave of warmth through his body. “I don’t want unnecessary bloodshed.”

He realized then why the realm considered you the Princess of Peace. You wanted to fight for your rights to life, fight for what was fair to the realm without bloodshed. Every gathering you’d been to had always swayed in your favor and he knew deep down it wasn’t because of your family name. You were just logical and intelligent to showcase why your outlook was necessary in the development of the Jujutsu world. You truly believed deep down there would be ways to save jujutsu sorcerers and regular humans without having to create an all out war. 

A part of him whirled in anger, another not understanding your stance. He disregarded human emotion at all costs, thought it to be weak, pathetic, unbeneficial, and a waste of energy. When he looked at the way people reacted first instead of thinking it made him recoil in disgust, when he’d see sobbing mothers or angry fathers at the villages he’d consumed he laughed, feeding off their distress and growing in power. He thrived off the negative emotion, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care for anything except gaining his right to the realm. He believed he was the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery and everyone else was simply a lackey and weak. 

He’d consider you one of them had you been anyone else, but there was something about you that made him hold you at a higher regard. You held every characteristic he despised of humans, of lesser sorcerers and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put you in the same category as them. It was like you had all immunity from his hatred, his wrath, his disgust. He didn’t know why you were different from the rest, he just knew you were and he couldn’t bring himself to figure out why. He didn’t want to. 

“What do you suggest I do then? Sit around and feel your energy get more distressed every time he talks to you like you’re worth nothing?”

For some reason, his confession of feeling your distress made your heart skip a beat. You knew he could feel all the energy around him, the powerful, the weak, the unstable, the murderous, and he cared most about yours. He felt your distress and it made him angry. Something about that undeniable truth made you feel warm inside. 

“You know what they tell you is true.”, he said, void of emotion. “I’ve killed hundreds of people, consumed their energy and left them to rot in the ground.”

Why was he saying this?

“I know.”

“I have no remorse, no morality, no human left in me”

“I know.”

It was all you could say, you couldn’t deny the painstaking truth. You knew he was immoral, dangerous, a murderer, you knew and still you ignored it. 

“So why do you choose to stay?”, he bit out. He’d never wanted nor cared about the opinion of anyone but he wanted yours. Why after the past two months did you choose to keep his company? Why after two months did you find yourself enamored with him? 

“Because you don’t care”, you confessed. “You don’t care about what others think, or what they say. You’re free to pass through every inch of this realm without any regard to what anyone has to say or what they think. In the end, you know you’re stronger, you go through life knowing your worth and position and… If I stay around you long enough maybe I’ll learn not to care either.”

Silence. 

He had no words to say as he listened to your voice grow slightly louder. “I want to leave, I don’t want to be the heir to my family’s claim, I don’t want to be held to this impossible standard that my family has for me. I just wish I could’ve been born just a regular human being. I might’ve been weak, ignorant, and blindsided but I would be free of the torment of my family’s expectation of me. I would be nobody and that would be enough.” 

That was just it. You could never be a nobody. You were forced into this life, born into a family of inherited techniques and forced to bring honor to your family no matter the cost. You were shackled to your prison for eternity and with no way out, you accepted the consequences of your position. 

To him though, it was different. You could never be a nobody. Not when he saw you as everything that brought out a sliver of humanity from his black soul. He saw you as everything everywhere all at once. You were kindness and empathy, strength and resilience, he felt it in the energy he absorbed and saw it in the woods he wandered through. He felt your presence in every fiber of his being and he hated it. You consumed him in a way not even the strongest in this realm could even graze him in. 

“He wants me to stop training in the fields and stay in the inner territory. He’s having the elders oversee my training.”, your mouth twitched slightly. “In the end, I'm still forced to develop my domain for him.”

A surge of annoyance whirled inside of him, forcing it back down in order to remain in control of his veil. He could be annoyed at the mundane anger of your father, but he wouldn’t put you at risk of being seen with him just because he wanted to rip your father into shreds. His thoughts seemed normal to him, but he knew if you’d heard his tactic of gaining your freedom you’d surely feel disgusted by him. 

“We should go back.”, you whispered, another tear streaming down your cheek. You looked down as you swallowed a sob, the feeling of his hand wiping the tear away warming your skin. You leaned into his hand, your lachrymose eyes meeting him in a gentle gaze. 

He stayed silent, grabbing your hand as he led you back through the woods and to your home. Your focus was on your intertwined hands, wondering if he’d ever let someone else touch him like this before. Has he ever been so gentle with others or were you the only exception to this? 

When you arrived, you lingered outside for a moment, the silence occupying the space while you tried to find the right words for him. You couldn’t quite place how you felt, but you felt a pull towards him, an uncontrollable feeling that you wanted to get off your chest. 

“Thank you”, was all you could say. He hummed in response before grabbing your hand, his skin rough and his touch gentle. You smiled through your hurt, a piece of your heart breaking at the fact that your freedom to roam had been stolen from you. A piece of you hurt even more than you couldn’t see him anymore. 

You gave him one last smile before walking away, your hand still in his grasp as it slowly untangled itself from his hood and you walked inside your home. After you’d reached your bedroom, you felt the veil of his cursed energy release and his presence disappear. 

Another single tear falling down your cheek while the pain in your chest overcame you, forcing you into a slumber just to escape from the agony. 

Over the past few days, Sukuna came to visit you in your home, concealing his energy and yours in the process in order to keep you from being sensed by others in your family clan. After so much time, he created a body double of you to take your place in bed so that you’d feel more comfortable leaving your room empty in the middle of the night. 

The nights were the only time you had with him now since your training was supervised by the elders, leaving you little room to actually train to create a domain and instead your time was consumed with training your ability. Every night you spent with him made your heart warm, everything about him made you feel whole, made you feel seen. It wasn’t often he’d speak fondly of anything, but he’d express himself to you in a way he’d never let anyone else hear. He preferred hearing you talk, preferred hearing your dreams of a future and a life that wasn’t surrounded by inheritance and power. He’d often disagreed, believing that power was the best thing in any lifetime that someone could obtain, but he found himself understanding your stance more and more every night. 

The two of you would spend every night with each other, staying within reach of your home in case you needed to return quickly, visiting the lake every night. You didn’t know at what point you started to return to his home with him, but you had found yourself in his bed more times than not. You would spend all night wrapped in his arms, his gentle touch on your skin, his fingers running through your h/c hair, breathing you in as you slept in his hold. 

He’d never expected a single thing from you. Your relationship with him was never carnal, he’d never let it get to that point because to him, he didn’t care for physical release anymore. 

Before you, he’d spend the better parts of his nights in brothels, a different concubine each night and drunk on wine and letting himself dip into his pool of women whenever he wanted. A harem waiting to jump into his bed at the snap of his fingers and yet, when you came around it was like all carnal desire evaporated from his being. His sudden disappearance from the brothels left even the concubines in shock, wondering where he’d gone off to not knowing of his infatuation with the L/n heir. 

Your emotional and mental capacity exceeded his beliefs and he found himself going against everything he once swore his life on, finding himself seeing you in a different light in comparison to every other living being. He respected you on a godly level, a level he never regarded anyone else in. You saw the world through a lens of profound clarity and grace, something he’d never wasted time on, something that made you connected to those beneath you but also made you so profoundly unique. You had embedded yourself so deeply into his being that even those around him started to notice the shift within the King of Curses. He found himself in awe of your perspective, mesmerized by the way your heart navigated through everything. 

He felt utterly pathetic. 

But you were content with him in every way. Where you held empathy and grace in your heart, he held control and selfishness. You were gentle and kind, he was merciless and heartless. Your eyes looked at the world with curiosity and he saw it as a kingdom to overtake, a kingdom where he would ultimately rule. A kingdom where he wanted you to serve next to him. To be his till his heart stopped beating and even beyond that.

You were a dichotomous pairing: heaven and hell. 

Still, you felt content when you laid in his arms at night. You felt secure laying in his bed, sleeping next to him, existing in the same space he occupied, looking into his deep red eyes that the rest of the realm were too scared to look into. You loved the way he touched you, his hand gentle as it pushed your hair back while you laid next to him. You loved the way he held you while you breathed against his chest at night before inevitably having to return home before the sunrise. 

That same morning you had returned home, you were preparing for a bath, undressing as you heard the group of maids outside the room. 

“You don’t think he will have heirs, do you?”, one of them asked in a whisper. 

“Someone like him has to have heirs. He wants to rule an empire, surely he’ll find a way to get them.”

“I wouldn’t mind giving him some.”, the final one spoke, making your ears ring in shock as she continued. “Have you seen him? He has to have a harem of women waiting to get into bed with him, not to mention he looks like he would be completely wild in bed.”

You felt your gut turn inside of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind jumping in bed with him, even if it is only once. Just to know what it’s like to get fucked by a real man.”, the maid laughed as their voices disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing in your shock as you let her words sink into your bones. 

You felt… insignificant. Insufficient. Inadequate. 

Later that night when he came for you, a wave of silence covered the both of you. You knew he could feel your energy, the doubt bubbling inside of you as you moved through the woods. Once you’d reached his home, you stood in the middle of the room, waiting for him to break the silence. 

He turned to meet your gaze, the emotion glossing over your eyes as he moved towards you. His hand reached up, pushing your loose strands of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek. 

“What’s wrong?”, he breathed. 

“Why?’, your voice shook, leaving him questioning why you were like this tonight. “Why me?”

He stood in silence, waiting for you to continue, knowing you weren’t done with the amount of energy he felt radiating off of you. 

“Why me, Sukuna? You could have anyone, any woman you wanted, hell all the women you wanted. I know you’re far from being a saint, and I accepted that fact a long time ago because I couldn’t care less about who you’d been with before me. I don’t care about your past or how many women you’ve been with… I just need to know.”, you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “You have so many women, so many concubines at your fingertips. I’m sure you’ve slept with some of them in the past few months, hell maybe even weeks. So, why?”, your voice broke. “Why me?”

Were you not good enough? Sufficient? Worthy?

His silence ate at you, making your gut fill with dread as he stared at you with a blank stare. You could guess that he’d probably taunt you, play with your feelings before delivering his ultimate blow. You wanted to believe that the past few weeks meant something to him in the same way they meant everything to you. You wanted to be enough for someone. Enough for him. 

When his voice broke the silence, you felt your eyes gloss over with tears again.

“I haven’t been with another woman since I met you.”, his voice held the truth, reaching up to cup your cheek.  “Since the first time I saw you, I stopped visiting brothels or entertaining the thoughts of other women.”

A shock sank into your bones at his confession. His eyes bore into yours with truth, with honesty. What he wanted to know was how these thoughts even entered your mind. 

“Who put these thoughts into your mind?”, he asked in a deep growl. 

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “One of our maids… She..”

He let out a quiet shush, grabbing your face with both his hands as his thumb grazed over your lips, “You…”, his eyes darkening with what you could only place as lust and possessiveness, “are the only woman in this life and the next, the only woman in this realm and the hundreds of others that I desire.”

And hell did he want you. He wanted every part of you. heart, body, and soul. Down to the simple way your eyes looked at him to the way your cursed energy spiraled into immense power when fighting cursed spirits. He wanted every strand of hair, every piece of your soul, every inch of skin, every minute of your time. He wanted you to consume him in every way and he couldn’t care less about the gravity of your effect on him. If you didn’t exist to be with him, he didn’t want to exist either. He saw himself as the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery, the king of this realm, and he wanted you to be the one and only thing that could bring him to his knees. If he was the most powerful sorcerer in the existence of humanity and jujutsu, then you were far stronger. You brought the King of Curses to his knees and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted. He wanted you to have power over him, it meant you belonged to him in every way that mattered. He'd burn the world down if you asked, kill an entire nation to prove his undying loyalty to you, he’d stop his spread of cursed energy to know a moment of peace with you. 

He didn’t know when he’d become so wrapped up in you, but it was too late for him by the time he realized the hold you had over him. 

He was yours with the entirety of his being, with the intensity of his soul, and the remainder of his existence in this life and continue to let you consume him in every lifetime after this one. 

His soul called your name in a way he’d never experienced in his entire life. For a man who didn’t believe in indulging in mundane emotions, he indulged in you and that’s all he needed. 

Your lip quivered, a sob choked out of your lips as you looked at him in a deep admiration. You lifted your hands to wrap around his wrists, sinking into his touch as you whispered to him. 

“I want to see you, Ryo.”, your hand on his face, your gentle lachrymose eyes meeting his hardened ones. “I want to see the real you.”

He would’ve denied the request had you been anyone else, but he was at your mercy, allowing his body to morph into his true being. The very form that left the realm fearing his presence, left them in agony from the overwhelming rush of cursed energy. His true form alone was enough to make an entire nation buckle under his presence. It was gruesome, wicked, twisted, ugly, and macabre. It was something so terrifying they’d used it in stories to children for them to be good for their parents. His true form was something heard about across all of the realm and left nations training for years in hopes to one day kill the King of Curses. And despite all of that wickedness, gruesomeness, and fear, you looked up at him with gentle eyes. 

He showed his true form to you, waiting for the recoil of disgust, the shock of horror and yet none of it came. You looked at him with the same gentleness you had for anyone else in this realm. He had a deformed stomach, four arms, multiple sets of eyes and a plate on his face, teeth sharp like daggers, and body covered in scars and marked in black ink. 

Yet, the only thing that flooded your eyes was admiration. 

Why weren’t you disgusted by him?

Why weren’t you running in fear?

Bowing at his feet?

Why?

“Why do you hide your true form around me?”, you cocked your head slightly. “Everyone in the other families always say you show your true form to add to your dominance over the realm, yet you disfigure your body and make it different when I’m with you… Why?”

Who created you in such a way that you empathize with him instead of cursing him to hell? 

Princess of Peace. 

“Does it bother you?”

“I just don’t see why you have to hide it. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

You couldn’t explain the connection to him. 

Was it an invisible string? 

Fated soulmates? 

You didn’t know what it was that his form didn’t frighten you or leave you in shock. You welcomed every being with open arms, perhaps it was your special ability to see cursed energy and gauge its threat to you. His energy never reached levels of threat when he was near you. You’d seen it around other sorcerers and the level grew astronomically. It was almost too much to wrap your mind around and yet when you saw it in the solace of his bedroom, it never pushed you away. 

Inside these walls, no cursed energy existed to harm you. In fact, it was the complete opposite. His cursed energy manifested in a protective veil, ensuring you were guarded completely when you were with him. 

You felt every question swirl in your mind, trying to pinpoint why he had you feeling so alive. 

Was it the desire to leave your family out of spite?

The desire to know what being unhinged was?

The desire to not live within the bounds of the jujutsu code and live freely?

You couldn’t quite place it but you felt envious of his freedom and lack of care. You were always being watched, always monitored, the only moments of peace and freedom you got were when he would sneak you out of your home at night.

You grabbed one of his hands, rubbing soft fingers on the back of it and meeting his gaze. You’d grown to admire the depth of his gaze, the way they watched you with a calm intensity. You have laced his hand on your cheek, his massive palm warming your skin as you sank into him. 

His body lowered to your height, bending over as he brought you closer to his chest while your heart pounded inside of your own. You knew he could feel your infatuation, your intrigue, your heart racing inside you. Your gentle eyes met his darkened ones, the closest thing to desire that he could get to while holding you. You felt his lips meet yours, the roughness of his mouth as he claimed you as his. You melted into him, your hands on his chest as a pair of his landed on your waist and the other held your face, deepening the kiss. 

He lifted your body, placing your frame on his lap as he laid against the headboard of his bed. You felt the burning of his skin as his grip tightened on your waist. Your skin ignited under his touch, running a hand through his hair which caused him to groan against your mouth. You could listen to him all day, forever. 

If your father or the realm saw you right now, what would they say? What would they think? Would they accuse Sukuna of brainwashing you? Imprisoning you? Did you need saving? 

No. 

You didn’t need saving; you were far beyond it for anyone to consider it. You were too far gone in him and you didn’t want to turn back. His muscular arms picked you up, laying you on your back against the sheets as his overwhelming form covered yours. You were tiny in comparison to him, your hair splayed out in a halo as his eyes stayed focused on you. A hand brushed your stray hairs back, rubbing small circles against your temple. 

You focused on his body, admiring every muscle, every ripple of skin, every scar, every black marking. You admired his form regardless of the fact that most would consider him a devil. It never occurred to you in any sense. 

An angel entrapped by a demon, an angel falling in love with the devil, an angel stolen from heaven and dragged to hell. 

You didn’t give a damn anymore. You wanted him, needed him like you needed oxygen. He helped you feel free, helped you escape the confines of your familial name, helped you feel worthy. He helped you see life in a new light, in every way that you couldn’t before because of your father’s controlling ignorance. You didn’t care about the opinions of the village or the families, deep down they were only looking out for themselves even if everyone else denied it. 

The King of Curses completely ruined you: the Princess of Peace. The two of you were a dichotomous pairing, chaos and peace, yet still found balance in each other. It was the balance of life and existence and the both of you knew exactly how the collision would end: one of you would gain everything and the other would lose it all. But neither of you would have anticipated the depth of your connection, the intensity in which he consumed you and you him. You no longer cared about the consequences of being with him. Your father could disown you, exile you, have the entire village and the other families against you, but as long as Ryomen was at your side you didn’t care. 

His rough lips made their way down your neck, kissing and licking every inch of your skin as your hands held into his arms. The sound of your muffled cries made him feral, making his instinct and possessiveness kick into overdrive. He needed to feel you, needed to taste you, to breathe you in and have you take over all his senses. 

Your hands gripped his arms, your toes curling against the bed sheets as he continued to kiss down your neck and swirling his tongue around the delicate skin. You tasted like a heaven he never believed in, made him feel euphoric in ways beyond comprehension. 

Your body was on fire at his touch, you wanted more. More of his touch, his kisses, his groans, his everything. You just wanted more of him. 

You wanted to give yourself to him in everyway you could. He knew you were still a virgin, he wanted to be the one to wreck you, to be the only one to know your body so intimately, wanted to be the only man you’d ever end up with. His hands gripped your hips as you felt his buck slightly against you, your moans filling his mouth as he kissed you sloppily. 

He forced himself to stop, gaining a small whimper from you. His eyes met yours, his voice deep but low as he pressed his lips against yours once more. 

“Not like this.”, he muttered, his tone vibrating in every bone in your body. 

You knew what he meant with just a simple phrase, Your body relaxing against the bed, letting him collapse next to you as he wrapped you into his arms. You soaked in his warmth, letting your body be held by him as you fell into a slumber. 

This was all you could ever ask for. 

It was all you wanted.

One Week Later 

You woke up just before the sunrise, your body sitting up as the bed sheets fell from your form. You looked next to you, seeing Sukuna in his sleep while his arms were lazily thrown over your torso. Another night with him in peace left you feeling content, feeling a soreness overtake your body from the training you’d done with him last night. You felt his arms tighten, your body almost bare against him only wearing one of his oversized wool shirts. 

You pushed yourself out of his embrace, swinging your legs off the bed and looking out the window. You still had time to get home before everyone woke up, though you needed to head home soon. You felt his energy shift as he woke, raising a hand while still laying in the sheets and looking at you while caressing your cheek. 

“I have to get home.”, you whispered as you melted into him. He grunted in response before sitting up and cracking his neck to relieve the pressure he’d gotten overnight. You follow his as he stands, letting him help dress you in your clothing as you felt his lips along the side of your neck. 

Both of you walked out of his home, walking through the woods until you reached your room, his veil keeping you hidden and camouflaged both of your energies. You gave him a final kiss, smiling at him before he turned and left, leaving you alone in your room. 

During mid day, the sun held its highest position and the food was being prepared for lunch, you heard mention from your father that the Zen’in would be joining your family for lunch. 

Everything was fine at first, everyone coexisting together, talking about family matters and everything normal, atleast it seemed normal at first. 

You looked up to see Zetsubou Zen’in walk in the door, one of the maids accompanying him to the table as she bowed and walked back to her post at the front door. He was the heir to the Zen’in clan. A remarkably talented sorcerer with the gift of the Ten Shadows technique. Everyone was sure he would soon manifest the shikigami Mohoraga, making him the first to manifest it since the family’s establishment to the realm. 

“Now that everyone is here, there is some news we must share.”, your father spoke as he stood, watching as Zetsubou’s father also rose to stand next to his son. Everyone else remained seated, you included as you cocked your head in confusion. 

“Y/n, come stand.”, your father motioned towards you, your gut churning in suspicion before you stood next to him. You watched your father before turning to Zetsubou and his father, his dark eyes staring into your e/c ones. 

“We are to celebrate the new union, the meshing of two family names into one great clan.”, your father spoke, your mother and the Zen’in wife staring in silence. Even the maids seemed to be on edge of what your father was saying. “Zetsubou, Your father and I have agreed in accepting the conditions of betrothal that you both have given to our family.”

Betrothal?

“Y/n, you and Zetsubou will meet in union in two weeks' time. Two Clans becoming one in matrimony.”, your father smiled as he shook hands with the Zen’in leader, smiling at Zetsubou. 

You stood in silence, your energy growing grimm at the declaration your father just made. Your body overwhelmed in shock, your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with a million different possibilities. The chatter around you blurred into a jumbled mess, nothing comprehensive due to your anger radiating from your body. 

“I look forward to getting closer to you through our marriage, Y/n.”, Zetsubou smiled at you, your eyes staring at him mindlessly. “Y/n?”

“I’m not marrying you.”, you said silently, almost inaudibly but you knew he’d heard you since you saw Zetsubou’s eyes darken. 

“What?”, his voice came out clipped, sharp. Dangerous. 

“I am not marrying you.”, you repeated, your eyes void of any emotion as you held 

“Y/n!”, your mother let out a warning call, but you ignored her. You didn’t care about anything other than making it entirely clear that you were not going to be wed to the Zen’in Clan. “Forgive us, she doesn’t realize what she’s saying.”

“I know what I’m saying. I am not marrying you, Zetsubou. Not even if you held my life at sword's edge.”

You suddenly felt the energy that radiated off of your father, his anger growing tenfold as he glared at you with intense disappointment and resentment. Your father already hated you, and already felt disgraced by your presence. Why not give him another reason to see you as less than good enough. 

“I think there needs to be some time to process our agreement. Surely we can come to a suitable agreement that will benefit both of our clans.”, your father forced out, his voice clipped. “Our maids will clean up, let me walk you out.”

You watched as both the Zen’in leader and your father walked out, your eyes glancing back at Zetsubou, holding his glare before he scoffed and followed behind his father. You heard the lowered voice of Zetsubou’s father, his voice full of annoyance. 

“Get your daughter under control or else we will take care of her for you.”, and with that, the Zen’ins left your home. You stared blankly as your father walked back into the room, his energy radiating in waves like a tsunami. He walked up to you, your blank stare meeting his eyes as you felt your head snap to the side, the sting burning your cheek as he snarled at you. 

“You are a disgrace!”, he screamed, your mother gasping at his sudden burst. “How dare you embarrass our family name in front of the Zen’ins!”

You raised your head, looking at the pure fury displayed in his eyes, still not saying a single word as he continued to berate you. 

“Why can’t you just do your duty and save yourself the embarrassment. Save our family the dishonor of having you as its heir.”, he bit out, each word dripping with acid. “You’re to marry Zetsubou Zen’in in two weeks' time. For once in your pathetic life, do something honorable for this family.”. He left the room, your mother following closely behind as the maids started to clean the dining room. 

And still, you stood in the middle of the room with no emotion behind your eyes, just the sting of your cheek and the emptiness in your chest at your father’s words. Your life, your future, your dreams, it all was reduced to being the wife of a man you did not love. A man you did not care for and despised. 

You were reduced to nothing. 

The night was silent, the wind howled softly in the background causing the trees to move, leaving nothing but a tranquil aura in the air. You stared blankly at the wall as you laid against Sukuna’s skin, the warmth flooding your body as you felt his arms wrap around you. You felt the growing pressure in your chest, an unavoidable truth you couldn’t keep from him anymore. 

“Kuna…”, you whispered gently. HIs body moved, looking at you as his eyes fell on your heartbroken form. “I..”, you choked. 

How could you possibly tell him this?

“What is it?”, his voice was deep yet soft, the words ringing in your ears. 

“I… My father..”, you sucked in a shaky breath. “He arranged for me to marry Zetsubou Zen’in.”

“He arranged for you to marry Zetsubou Zenin.” he repeated back to you, the lingering darkness hanging in his tone. 

“He says it’ll be good for our families. That I have a responsibility as heir, as does Zetsubou, to continue our bloodline and make our abilities stronger.”

“Do you love him?”, the question made your blood run cold, even kicked you in the gut, but you knew why he asked. You could read in between the lines and hear the unanswered question he truly wanted to ask. 

“No.”

A hum was all that escaped him, the silence casting over the both of you causing a small blanket of tension to rise. 

“I can kill them.”, he replied finally. “I can give them a reason to call off that sham marriage.”

He could do it easily, there was no question about it, the only thing keeping him from carrying out his plan was his loyalty to you. He wouldn’t do something you asked him to not do. You had that power over him to stop him from doing anything. You heard the hidden meaning in his words. You weren’t ignorant or naive. You knew who he was and what he was capable of and yet, you lay in his arms falling deeper into what he was, or rather, who he was with you. 

“I don’t want bloodshed. Besides..”, you sank into your sorrow again. “I don’t think there truly is a way out of this.”

“Do you really believe they could possibly keep me away from you?”, he asked in a serious, deep tone, his question full of every emotion he’d never said out loud. He didn’t know what kindness was, what admiration looks like or what love felt like but to him… you were the closest thing to that that he’d ever felt and seen in all his life. 

You brought out what little humanity he had in him, he showed it only for you. the tiniest sliver reserved for you but disappeared when it came to anyone else. You were the only one who deserved that small minuscule part of him. He had little regard for human life, he believed himself above all beings all gifted, cursed, and boring. 

Then there was you. 

He didn’t believe himself above you in any regard. 

In every way you were his equal and he’d burn the world to ash to prove it to you. 

“I can’t deny them… My father… he already hates me.”, you muttered against his skin. Ryomen slowly sat up, his arms helping you move with him as he brushed your hair back, tucking a strand behind your ear and letting his hand rest against your cheek. Your eyes glossed over, a hurt in your heart flooding every vein in your body. You didn’t want to be forced into a life you had no interest in, why did this have to be your life’s path? 

You wish you could just speak to whatever greater being ruled over your world and beg them to change the prophecy known as your life. Beg for a time where you didn’t exist within the confines of your familial name, your duty to pass your legacy through your bloodline, your fear of disgracing your family, who could ever change the end result for you? 

“I’ll find a way.”, he whispered before leaning towards you, pulling your lips against his as he let all of his emotion pour into the kiss as the tears fell down your cheeks. He was gentle even in his destructive touch, he let himself completely off guard with you. Your lips moved gently against his, soft and delicate, making his other hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you deeply. You felt weak at his touch, your heart openly his without regret or second thoughts. 

“Ryo..”, you whispered, your voice shaky as he kissed you again, this time more possessive and full of desire. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it before letting it go as it swelled. 

You let yourself sink into him, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, it was even and strong, proof of the life inside of him. 

He watched you carefully, his gut churning in a whirlwind of emotion and suppressed energy. He needed an outlet and soon, he’d spent the better part of the past month with you in his embrace and presence. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without releasing his cursed energy, it was starting to make him twitch at all the pent up power he had. He’d waited until you fell asleep in his arms before lowering you into the sheets, your body laying perfectly in his bed as he covered you with the blanket. He pushed the curtain away, closing it as his eyes lingered on your body, the blanket laying over you as he moved out of the room. 

He found himself wandering through the woods late, moving to the outskirts of the village territories and making his way deeper to territory he knew a little too well. He sensed an energy that stood out to him, his focus moving towards the waves radiating towards him until he reached his location. His veil did good in keeping him hidden, but he released a small wave of energy to send a flood of chills through every being in town within his proximity. His body moved through the homes, the worn down tavern, and the trader booths until he found exactly what he was looking for so late in the night. 

The sound of moans echoed in his ears, the energy he was tailing radiating from inside the brothel at the very end of the town, hidden amongst the trees for a more private ambiance. He knew exactly what was taking place inside the brothel, but it wasn’t that that bothered him, it was the person inside that did. He sensed Zetsubou inside with multiple women, all of them taking their place in his bed, taking turns pleasuring him or even doing it all at once. His grunts sounded out as the moans that escaped the concubine echoed through the walls. The other women were touching him, their hands on his body as one of them rubbed their body against his while another kissed him in a sloppy manner. 

He would be lying if he said he’d never been in a similar, compromising position. He’d visited these brothels long enough to know exactly who and what he wanted every night he visited. His lust filled ways long gone, no longer causing a rise in him, especially after meeting you. That was the exact reason he was here. For you. 

An anger rose inside of him seeing your supposed future husband laying in a bed being pleasured by concubines just weeks before your wedding. His groans sounded out at the pleasure he was receiving, the moans of the concubines filling the air as he fed into infidelity. He knew all too well that men were never loyal to their wives, always frequenting the brothels for a good time. The sound of Zetsubou slamming the headboard against the wall as he fucked one of the concubines, his curses filling the air as her moans ripped through the night, it all made Sukuna’s anger run deep inside of him. The lack of respect, the complete disregard Zetsubou held for you made him want to snap his neck in half. It would be the perfect way to get you out of the betrothal. 

Even the sounds of the whores in bed with him drove Sukuna mad. They had to know the great Zen’in heir was to be wed to the L/n heir, yet they still chose to lay in bed with him, to be absolutely and disgustingly fucked by the son of a bitch. He listened to the sounds, letting the anger grow inside of him, allowing himself to plot every way he would maim Zetsubou Zen’in alive for ever treating his betrothal as disposable. Something to be disregarded. Disrespected. 

After a while, the moans and the slamming of the headboard stopped, Zetsubou’s voice ringing out as he laid in the sheets with his whores wrapped around his naked body. 

“You ladies definitely know how to show a man a good time.”, he breathed as he let them touch his body, his muscled flexing under their touch. 

“Of course, always special treatment for our best man.”, one of the whores said in a sultry voice. “It’s good to get a good fuck while you still can.”

“Trust me, even in a few weeks I’ll be back. Don’t you worry.”, the sound of Zetsubou kissing one of the women made Sukuna fill with disgust. “You have the best of the best here. Can’t stay committed to some virgin who doesn’t know how to please a man, let alone know how to fuck one.”

His energy spiraled, shoving it down as he continued to listen. 

“That’s right, you need real women, not some uptight spoiled brat.”, another woman spoke out. 

“You can get all the good pussy you want here, baby.”, another called. “We know how to treat a man right. Make you feel everything.”

“That’s all I want.”, his voice vibrated as he kissed the woman again. “C’mon baby, let's go for round two.”

And just like that, the sounds of moans and deep grunts rang out again. The knocking of the head board and the panting of hot breath filling the room. Zetsubou Zen’in was scum. Bottom of the barrel. A fucking no body. 

Sukuna bided his time, waiting deep into the night as he watched the Zen’in heir leave, heading back in the direction of his clan’s territory. Sukuna’s red eyes watched him from the shadows, his anger rising into flames around him, waiting long enough for the worthless son of a bitch to be far enough away before letting the release come. 

Fire consumed the village, everything burning into ash, the smoke filling the air as the sound of screams echoed into the night. The taverns, the trader booths, the homes, all of it catching on fire and burning every single person to a crisp. He saved the brothel for last, waiting for the sound of panic cries to ring out before walking inside and seeing all the concubines who were with the Zen’in heir trying to get out of the burning building. He forced them to stay in place, his presence overwhelming them into fear. He watched as the panic settled into their eyes, their lungs begging for air, their bodies getting burned as the flames licked the walls around them. One of them tried to run out past him, but never made it as he blew her head off in one swift slice. They screamed out, begging him to let them out, crying as he watched in emotionlessness. It wasn’t until their lifeless bodies collapsed on the ground that he left, leaving the burning village behind him as he wandered into the night. He’d burn the whole world down for you. 

Even if it meant starting with those who wronged you first.

“Our entire livestock was burned! We have no more land to grow food in!”, the sound of the Zen’in leader’s voice ringing out during their meeting with your father rang out. You listened in silence, letting yourself sink into the reality of what they were discussing. A small part of you laughing internally at their misfortune. 

Another village burned into flames just two days ago, and last night, the Zen’in’s lost all of their livestock, fertile soil, and sustainable crops. They were all burned to nothing, not even the soil or the seeds were salvageable. 

“We need to get this monster under control. We have to speed up training with our sorcerers and find our strongest men to be put into units to take him out. We cannot let him roam so freely anymore, especially not now that he’s making hits closer to our clan lands.”, the Kamo Clan leader spoke out, his voice soft as he marked the map where Sukuna made his last raid, your eyes peeking in through the slit in the door. That village.. It was right outside the Zen’in borders, it was where Zetsubou frequented the brothels. 

Ryo..

You stepped back, moving back into the hall before making your way to your bedroom, closing the door as you sat on the floor. Did he burn the village down in some act of honor for you or was it just a coincidence? 

The thoughts spiraled in your head, letting yourself undress and change into your dinner clothes, the silence still filling your home ever since your fight with your father almost three days ago. You were a week away from your marriage to Zetsubou, a gnawing in your gut as you stepped out of your room and faced your father. You stood in the doorway before making your way to the dining table and sitting in your regular spot at the very end while your father and mother sat next to one another. 

Then, a rush of energy consumed you all at once. The sensation floods your senses as you feel your body tense. You look at your father, noticing his sudden change in demeanor as one of the maids let out a cry of fear, her shaky voice barely audible as you could hear her motion towards the dining room. 

In all his glory, Sukuna stood tall and unmoving, his body adorned with fine robes and his true form showing as he occupied the space. Making the air impossible to breathe, making everyone except you suffocate in fear. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of him, why was he here?

You watched as your mother raised her hand to her mouth, covering her quivering lips. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked in a shaken tone, your eyes filled with worry as you watched your father fill with anger. 

“Sukuna”, he bowed before the King of Curses, before lifting his head and asking his question. “What brings you into our home this evening?”

Sukuna stared your father down, his true form standing tall and in overwhelming sense of dominance that made your mother cower. Although you showed no fear towards him, you could see why everyone else in the realm did. He was massive, muscular, deadly, his body taking form of a cursed entity. It was no secret that Ryomen Sukuna held an energy that defied all existence, he was far above all beings. 

You tried to stay focused, holding your shock at his sudden appearance back, not wanting them to see your reaction. 

What was he doing? 

“F/n L/n.”, Sukuna’s deep voice echoed. “Leader of the L/n clan. For such a highly renown sorcerer, you sure don’t seem to realize where your greatest assets lie.” He walked further into the room, your father’s jaw clenching noticeably. “You’re ignorant and naïve, choosing to force such a gifted sorcerer, your only daughter and heir into a marriage of mutual gain, of political power.”

“Our family and Clan matters shouldn’t interest you. Now why are you intruding on our home?”. You had to applaud your father’s boldness, asking Sukuna such a demanding question. 

“You’re too mundane, worldly, pitiful.”, you watched as he moved and sat at the table, in between the head where your father and mother sat and the opposite end where you sat. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning his head into his hand before speaking again. “Why arrange for political gain when you could have real power, L/n?”

“What are you talking about Sukuna?”, your father’s words shook slightly. 

“Look at the bigger picture. L/n may be a part of the four families, but in comparison, your poor judgment and lack of support is the reason your family will fail. You seek what humans want. You’re greedy over mundane things”, Hid deep red eyes held your father’s gaze intently, overwhelmingly. “What if I told you that you could have the power of gods?”

“Power of gods?”, your fathers hands fisted in his lap. 

“Yes”, you noticed Sukuna’s red eyes glance at you, softening only when he met your gaze and immediately hardened and dropping when he met your father’s. “You could have real power, real influence, real claim to the realm. It would put you far above the rest of the families, perhaps make you greater than the Gojos.”

You didn’t miss the glint of intrigue in your fathers eyes. Of course bed listen or spare a moment for someone like him. Anything for power, anything for more claim to the realm. Your family wasn’t weak but any means, but your father had slowly started losing connections thanks to his selfishness. It truly would be the end of the L/n family if he didn’t get it together. 

“And how would I possibly gain that? I have nothing to give you in return.” , your father smiled weakly. 

“Simple”, Sukuna leaned his head on his hand, staring at your father blankly before extending a hand and pointing at you. 

“I want Y/n as my bride.” 

[dunmeshistash]

Hi and thank you for all the service you do for us!

If it's not too much of a bother, could you please compile everything that is known about the structure of the dungeon? The maps, the floors, and what's there, if there are notes about what monster lives where, it would be amazing! I've found a few useful panels, but I'm not sure if I'm missing anything. Thanks!

So you mean information about "The Island" in specific? That's apparently the name of the dungeon they're in during the story. I can try

You can check the dungeons tag for more general information about dungeons.

Here's what the adventurer's bible says about the Island:

1 THE ISLAND

A new dungeon that was discovered just six years ago. It's rumored that the Golden Country that existed a thousand years ago still lies in its depths, imprisoned there by the Lunatic Magician

And here's what I said about it on that Dungeons post

"The island", which is the name given to the Dungeon Linked to Melini Village's Graveyard, is a "Compound-Style Dungeon" while other dungeons seem to have specific styles linked to other ancient civilizations (Dwarf-Style, Gnome-Style, Elf-Style) 'The Island' in specific seem to be a Compound Style between dwarfish and elvish styles. As Thistle says, continuing in ch 68, it was an ancient Dwarf construction that was then used by Elves. Maybe that's the reason the dwarfish inscriptions are only in the innermost levels of the dungeon. The Style then seems to indicate which ancient civilizations created the manmade Dungeon.

Idk much about the maps, there's some behind the characters in some covers but idk if they're accurate at all or what they represent but here they are:

About the floors we have a cross section that shows floors from floor 1 to floor 5 and a bit of 6

I'll just copy whats on the wiki cause I think it works and add images from the manga.

Floor 1

The uppermost floor of the dungeon. Once the graveyard of the nearby Merini Village, the discovery of the dungeon resulted in it filling with merchants and adventurers. There are sellers of manuscripts and incense, as well as an abundance of food stalls. There is also a demi-human slave market

Floor 2

The floor is filled with tall trees and towers, linked by wooden bridges. It is theorized by scholars that the area is the top of the Golden Castle sealed away by the Lunatic Magician.

Floor 3

The entrance to the Golden Castle, now moldy and covered in dust. Footsteps can be heard, but it is unclear if they are those of fellow adventurers or the undead. Most monsters on this floor are undead, rotting or skeletal. There are water fountains in the shape of lion's heads throughout the level. There are also toilets in the busier areas, which have been maintained by Senshi for many years.

Senshi's base camp is located here. There are also merchants on this level, but their clientele tend to be fairly shady.

Floor 4

The floor is a cave made up of the castle and an underground lake. The water has absorbed magical energy and glows faintly. At the bottom of the lake is the castle town.

Floor 5

The exit of the Golden Castle and the entrance to the castle town, which contain evidence of their former splendor. The streets often magically rearrange themselves, making navigation difficult. The orcs' former home is located here. There is an overgrown graveyard attached to the town that is populated by Dryads.

Floor 6

A network of underground waterways built using the mining tunnels of dwarves. It is stated that most monsters on this floor use mental attacks. This floor was once hot and humid, but is now cold and snowy.

Floor 7 (wiki calls it "Deepest part of the dungeon" but the monster guide says the monsters are on F7)

An old dwarven defensive site, filled with pipes, machinery and mechanical contraptions located past a large door with no visible lock. The floor is fairly warm. Further onward is an ancient dwarven city, hewn from the side of a cliff face, with giant fungi sprouting in some areas

--

Besides these floors there's also the Golden Kingdom and Thistle's home, the golden kingdom appears to not actually be conected to the rest of the dungeon directly? Since they need the ghosts to take them to and from there, Thistle's home seems to be past the 7th floor but might just be on the 7th I'm not sure.

About the monsters you can check on that wiki page which monsters show up on each floor (based on what shows up on the manga I think) but here's what the adventurer's bible says about which floor each ones lives:

All over the Dungeon

Walking Mushroom

Big Walking Mushroom

Dungeon Cleaner

Undine

The eyes of the Magician (Wyvern)

1F and bellow

Huge Scorpion

Green Slime (Mostly 1F)

2F and bellow

Mandrake

Man-Eating Plant

Big Bat

Basilisk (only 2F)

3F and bellow

Treasure Insects

Mimic

Living Armor (3F-5F)

Ghost

Golem

Living Painting

4F and bellow

Mermaid

Kelpie

Fish-Man

Giant Frog

Sea Serpent

Ivy Tentacles

Tentacles

Giant Kraken (only 4F)

5F and bellow

Dryad

Minotaur

Warg

Harpy

Cockatrice

Wyvern

6F and bellow

Barometz

Changeling

Shapeshifter

Hippogriff

Griffin

Nightmare

Red Dragon

Green Dragon

7F and bellow

Dungeon Rabbit

Bicorn

Unicorn

Succubus

Dullahan

Gargoyle

- (No habitat in the dungeon, were summoned by the Dungeon Lord)

Phoenix

Familiars

Hag

White Dragon

Easter Dragon

Wurm

Chimera

Flying Pig

Jackalope

Werewolf

Huge Spider

Quetzalcoatl

Hope all of this helps somehow!! Putting a readmore fucked up the formatting so I hope yall don't mind the huge post 😅

[coraniaid]

It's true that the Buffy writers' answers to the closely related questions "is there a meaningful distinction between a vampire and the human being who was sired to create them?" and "when you get down to it, are vampires basically people?" clearly undergo something of a shift in the second half of the show.

This is a transformation that starts with Buffy's reluctance to stake Willow's vampire alter ego in Season 3's Doppelgangland and continues at pace with the gang's collective reaction to finding out that Harmony has "become" a vampire in Season 4. It's a process that continues as long as Harmony remains a recurring character on the show, until, by mid-Season 5, Buffy (and Buffy) has essentially undergone a complete switch in its view of vampirism. The later seasons handling of vampires are very hard to square with the speeches made by Buffy in Lie To Me ("you die, and a demon sets up a shop in your old house [...] but it's not you") or Giles to Xander [about the late and largely unlamented Jesse] in The Harvest ("you're not looking at your friend: you're looking at the thing that killed him"). Whether this is a change for the better or not is a matter for debate, but that it is a real change that happens is pretty hard to dispute.

It's also true that the writers are obviously increasingly reluctant to show their show's protagonist, the titular vampire slayer, actually going around killing vampires. At least any vampires who've had a chance to establish some sort of personality. How many of the dozen or so named, recurring vampire characters does Buffy actually kill over the course of the show? Not very many.

I make it two in Season 1 (if you're generous and count Luke as a recurring character), one in Season 2 (if you're similarly generous and count Buffy sending Angel to hell for almost three whole episodes as killing him) and ... that's it, right? Somebody other than Buffy kills Darla [=Angel], and Colin the Anointed One [=Spike], and Dalton [=the Judge], and Mr Trick [=Faith], and vamp!Willow [=wishverse!Oz, twice] and Sunday's only-named-in-the script henchvamp Tom [=the Initiative], and Sandy [=Riley], and Spike[=... well, Spike, ultimately, I guess]. Nobody ever kills Drusilla or Lyle Gorch or Harmony, all of whom make multiple appearances on the show and (un)live to the end of the series. And Angel and Spike (and even Darla, eventually and temporarily) all come back after apparently being killed.

Buffy might have a sacred calling to slay vampires, but the show is very uncomfortable about her killing non-human characters who've had a chance to establish themselves as people. Perhaps that's why the show stops having vampiric Big Bads completely after Season 2, and why Season 7 tries to introduce a whole new category of personality-free, definitely-not-people monsters to replace its existing vampires. (Perhaps not entirely succesfully, if we're being diplomatic.)

It's certainly true that the show does not have a consistent take to offer on vampire lore. Like everything supernatural in Buffy, vampires are essentially walking metaphors: and the things that they exist to represent and comment on change and evolve throughout the show's run. Buffy's worldbuilding is not very deep or rigorous.

But what's not true at all, and what I wish people would stop claiming, is the idea that Angel's awkward "well, actually..." when Buffy assures Willow in Doppelgangland that "a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person it was" represents some sort of big departure from the show's established or implied lore up to that point. It does not. At all.

In fact, it's Buffy's claim that is at odds with everything that the show has been saying up this point. A vampire's personality has always, always been something that the show wants us to believe is informed by the personality of the person who died to create them, This goes all the way back to Season 1.

In Angel, Giles does tell Buffy flat out that "a vampire isn't a person at all", but he also says that a vampire may have "the memories, even the personality of the person that it took over". In the part of her speech from Lie To Me that I elided earlier, Buffy admits that if you're turned the resulting vampire "walks, and it talks, and it remembers your life" [and the clear implication here is that the vampire walks and talks like the original person did, otherwise what is this supposed to be saying?].

If the show's original position was that a vampire's personality had nothing to do with who they were in life, why would Giles have felt the need to tell Buffy (in Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date) that Andrew Borba had been on the run for a suspected double murder the night he died and rose as a vampire? Why would he have told her in Season 2's Bad Eggs that the Gorch brothers "massacred a village" before they were vampires? Why would he warn her in Season 3's Helpess that Zachary Kralik was a "criminally insane" serial killer even before being sired as a vampire? If the show -- or even just Giles himself -- really did have the position that a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person they were before death, as Buffy claims in Doppelgangland (and some fans apparently believe), how would any of this make sense?

If we weren't supposed to think vampires inherited at least some part of their personality from their host then why, in The Harvest, would vampire!Jesse still be obsessed with pursuing Cordelia Chase? Why would Drusilla still be driven mad as a vampire as a result of the pyschological tortures that Angel inflicted on "her" when she was a mortal? In Halloween, why would Buffy be trying to find out more about the sort of person Angel was as a human? Why would Willow and Xander still be together in the world of The Wish?

The idea that a vampire inherits the personality of the person whose body they take over [or who they were before "becoming" a vampire, in the later seasons' parlance] isn't any kind of retcon. It's one of the few consistent takes on vampires the show had from beginning to end. Continuity of self; moral standing as a person; capacity for self-reflection and personal growth, whether or not vampires can breathe ... these are the things about vampires the show changes its stance on. But a vampire's personality was always informed by who they were in life, right from the very first pair of episodes.

(Spike and Drusilla being capable of at least some kind of romantic love and mutual jealousy in Season 2 is also not a retcon, incidentally. We saw that with Darla and Angel in Season 1 as well. And even the Master clearly felt emotions and had some sort of affection for his favorites among the vampires that worked for him. Spike and Dru do represent a significant -- and welcome! --change in the tone of the show, but they aren't somehow a walking refutation of what Giles has been telling Buffy (and through her, us) about vampires for the past year.)

I mean, I don't really have a big point to work to here, it's just that I keep seeing takes on my dash about how this particular scene represents a big change in the show's lore about vampires. And that .. just isn't true?

[yuriisclumsy]

I'm so excited that more people started taking cale request!!!✧\(>o<)ﾉ✧

Anyway hiii! Can I have an enemy to lovers with cale henituse and fem.reader idk something cliche like a dance scene or one gets protective of the other or maybe a cute "oh shit I'm actually in love moment"

Sorry I'm bursting with ideas rn.~

Love's Dance

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,729

Authors note: You ask, and I shall deliver. PS. why did you give me such a good idea? like, I'm at 5k word for the overall thing, and I am not even done yet... (send help)

The streets of Roan Kingdom's Capital were bustling like usual. The vendors selling their goods, children running around carelessly, mothers screaming at them to not get dirty, and the usual underground activity Arm did. 

I strolled through these streets, thinking of nothing and relaxing ‘til I get another mission. 

“That reminds me…Arm has been quiet as of late. Sigh…they are up to no good…” I spoke to no one in particular, walking back to the Quiet Isle lodge. 

Quiet Isle is an inn in an area a little off the center of the Capital. I stayed there for the past three weeks after finishing my last mission. The price to stay is cheap, while still being comfortable. It has comfortable rooms, a clear view, free breakfast, and most importantly, it wasn’t noisy at all! Bonus points for the innkeepers, as they have been nothing but sweethearts.  

All-in-all, a good Inn if you’re looking to get your coins worth. 

I went through the inn’s doors, a sweet aroma of lavender hitting my nostrils as I neared the front desk.  

The Innkeepers were an old couple, and the misses genuinely enjoyed the smell of lavender. That is why, as you walk through the inn, you’ll be met with an influx of light purples from the flowers. 

Reaching the desk, I was greeted by a senior woman whose smile could cure all kinds of child injuries. 

“Oh! Why if it is the youth I’m all too familiar with!” The old granny said, delighted to see me. 

 “Greetings, Granny Fes,” I vowed curtly with a small smile. “Have there been any new guests at the inn?” I asked as she extended her hand to give me a piece of candy. 

Receiving the small candy, I offered a small ‘thank you.’ She said a quick ‘You’re welcome!’ before responding to my question. “Yes, yes! I welcomed a few new guests shortly after you left this morning for a stroll!” she excitedly told me. 

“Two of the five I welcomed are a couple expecting a child! Isn't that exciting? Ouu, to be young again…” 

“Oh, please. I say you are still quite young!” I say to get her head out of that cloud. 

“Fufufu, you are too kind [Name].” Granny Fes pinched my cheek as she got a bit flustered. “I believe one day you’ll meet a handsome young man that is suited just for you.” She added. 

I blushed a little, “Oh no, I don’t think that will happen…” I pause for a second. “Do you really think I’ll get lucky enough to have that...?” I asked, not believing I would get someone special to spend my days with. 

“Don’t give me that!” Granny Fes yelled, as if scolding one of her own. “You are beautiful! Which man wouldn't dream of having a wife such as yourself!?” 

All I could do was smile in response. This is how I want things to always go. Living in a peaceful area, sharing memories with people I meet along the way, even starting a family. Arm is nowhere near that picture. And it will never be. 

But alas. Good things always end. 

“Ah! That reminds me. [Name],” she called my name and handed me an envelope, “You received mail from a young lad. He said it was urgent.”  

Looking at the envelope as Granny Fes left to continue her job, I had an ominous feeling, yet I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  

I turned it around only to see Arm’s seal stamped on it. Arm only sends letters if it is an important mission, and based on the color of the seal, it is of utmost importance.  

I am already not liking this I thought, refusing to open the letter. Maybe if I were to pretend its existence was nothing but a useless paper, it would disappear. But alas, I needed to open the envelope. With worry present in my face I opened it with the seal. Inside was a letter addressing Agent White Gold.  

That code name. It is the thing I despised most in this world. 

To Agent White Gold, 

Play time is up, White Gold. You have been assigned a mission in the Henituse Territory. We have discovered the traces of the leader of the organization known as ‘True Arm.’ Your mission is to go there and find out who the leader of the organization is, dead or alive. It is your choice which one you pick.  

A carriage will come to pick you up at sunrise, so don’t miss it.  

Once you arrive at your destination one of our men will greet you and guide you to your resting location and hand you an envelope. Inside, you will find descriptions of the one we are looking for, alongside a list of individuals that we found to match the description of our target. 

Remember, Agent, we are counting on your success. 

Don’t disappoint us, 

Arm 

Dammit… The moment I receive some peace after working for them like a slave…! I angrily store the letter to shreds, as if it were them instead of the letter. All I wanted was to disappear from the eyes of those bastards. They took me from my home, changed me to fit in an identity they made…they just can’t leave me alone, can they? 

 

I wanted to say no. To be able to run away to a far corner of the world so they would never be able to find me. But it is impossible. No one leaves. Rather, they die. Dying was the only way out. 

Yet, I want to live. 

I looked at Granny Fes as she talked with a few guests that were checking out. At that moment I knew that if I tried to escape, they would get everyone I was surrounded by. She doesn't deserve that. Neither does her husband, or her children and grandchildren. 

It is best I comply. 

“Sigh…Once you're in, there is no escaping their grasp…”  

The sky was tainted in hues of blues, purples, and oranges. The sun was rising from the nap it took, and fully ready to greet us. 

A carriage arrived early at the Quiet Isle Inn. Inside stood Granny Fes and Gramps Liy right next to me. Their eyes expressed sadness when looking at me. 

“Why so sad?” I asked the couple. 

“Oh, it’s just…it’s just that we’re both sad you’re leaving so soon.” Granny Fes confessed. Her husband, a bit more stubborn, only scuffed. Granny Fes elbowed him hard with a smile still shooting at me, gaining a small scowl from Gramps Liy. 

“AGHEM,” he raised one hand to fake a cough, “I guess you will be missed.” 

I laugh at his antics. Deep down he cares, he just has an unconventional way of expressing his feelings. 

“I’ll miss the two of you.” I looked at them with a small hinge of sadness but kept a smile to reassure them. I looked outside to see the coachman wave his hand signaling that he was ready for departure. “It seems I must go,” I turned to them, “see you later?” 

“Yes, yes. Goodbye little lady.” Gramps Liy ‘shud’ me to the carriage as he and his wife stared at me opening the door of the carriage. 

“Farewell, sweetheart. Make sure to take good care of yourself. And remember to look out for good lads while you’re traveling!” Granny Fes nagged me like I was about to never come back. Although, she was right about that. I don’t think I will be able to come back if I want to protect them. 

I laughed and said a small ‘I will!’ as I climbed into the carriage. Closing the door the carriage started moving. I waved to the couple one last time before I could not see them anymore. 

Sighting, I took out the map I packed. Looking at my destination, it was a few days from the capital. “This is going to be a loong trip…” I commented, making myself comfortable for the journey ahead. 

I hope I get this mission done quickly, so I can get another vacation from Arm. I looked up at the ceiling. I mean…how hard could it be to find this ‘leader’ anyways? 

… 

An old butler walks dutifully around the state halls. In hand, he holds a tray with a fancy tea set with a steel dome keeping the food inside warm; its aroma could be smelled by the passing housekeepers with wet laundry. 

The butler knocked at a door, he did not have to wait long, as he got an immediate response from the person inside. Opening the door he says his greetings. 

“Good morning, young master. I brought breakfast along with your favorite drink.” He says as he places down the tray on the table close to the window. 

“Ah, thank you, Ron.” A male voice thanked the butler. 

“It is my pleasure, young master Cale.” The butler, Ron, bowed. 

The man, who is now identified as Cale, sat down on the table to enjoy his breakfast. 

“Young master, if I may…” Ron waited for permission to continue speaking. 

“*Sight* Just spit it out.” Cale said in an uninterested voice. This is another one of his tangents. Drinking the lemonade that Ron made as he thinks of Ron’s earlier endeavors. 

Ron smiled, “I have detected Arm activity within the city.” 

“PFF–” spilling all the lemonade on the cup, he looked at Ron with widened eyes.

What is Arm doing here?! They have more pressing issues to deal with! Like, figuring out who Real Arm is! Cale’s thought went haywire.

 

Ron took his handkerchief out and gave it to Cale to use. 

“What do you mean there is Arm activity in the city? Is it more bombs?” He asked while using the cloth given to him to clean the mess he made. 

He shook his head, “no, at least not yet. I have seen them snoop around the city for information. It would seem we left them a small lead.” 

“Not good…” 

“If you’d prefer, young master, I could go rabbit hunting.” 

Looking at Ron with a drop of sweat evident in his forehead, he reluctantly answered. “...do whatever you want.”  

“Hehe. Then I will take my leave.” He bowed before leaving the room without making a sound. 

Scary old man. He looked outside pouring more lemonade in his cup. It’s not a good sign if Arm is here. I need to prepare in case they strike. 

… 

“Hey, wake up! We’re almost there!” 

“WHAT? HUH–huh?” I got up from my seat at lightning speed, looking around in a daze. As I scoot closer to the window, I see the giant walls looming overhead. On top of one of the towers built in the wall was a flag. It was the Henituse’s family crest imprinted on it.  

I’m already in the Henituse territory! 

Getting closer at the entrance door of the city, the carriage stopped, as they had to do a check before letting anyone in. 

“Execute me, m’lady. May I have your identification paper?” A soldier asked me. 

Security check? When I traveled to other places, they didn’t ask for my identification but the coachman’s. 

I handed him the paper without complaint, receiving it right after he checked that everything was good. The other soldiers gave him a thumbs up after checking the carriage and the coachman. Without further interruption they let us through, wishing us a happy stay. 

“That was…something.” 

The coach man dropped me off at a tavern near the city square. Going upstairs to the second floor of the establishment, I sat down at a table near the edge of the balcony. Waiting for the man that was supposed to give me the information mentioned in the letter I looked out into the streets, I could see the liveliness of the people.  

They were too lively in my opinion. 

Hearing footsteps approaching my table I diverted my attention to them. I was greeted with a man wearing a hat with fancy clothing. 

“Hello, m’lady,” the man greeted by taking his hat off and vowing curtly. 

Didn’t know Arm also had rich allies. I thought, seeing the man's mannerisms. 

“Good evening,” I vowed slightly, “are you the one mentioned in the letter?” 

“Eager now, are we?” He sat down in front of me with a smug smile. He placed his hat down before taking out an envelope. He slid it across the table. As I grabbed it, I took out its content.  

It was a list of suspects. They all had red hair and were male. And that was it. No underground activities, no records, nothing. 

“That’s…it?”  

This is the only information they managed to find…seriously? I thought. Was someone able to sneak past Arm’s noses? How is that even possible? 

“Unfortunately, it is.” 

“Ha...!” I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I looked up at the man after reviewing the list of suspects.  

“This is the only description we managed to find,” the smile on his face dropped into a frown, “only at the low cost of our scouts: a single spy was able to escape long enough to hide a piece of paper in a tree trunk…” he said. 

“....” I looked down at the list.  

To be able to kill all of our scouts…this is no meek foe. Just thinking of how strong they are sends shivers down my spine…  

“I have arranged a small room at an Inn close by here. I have left some equipment at your disposal. The location is on one of the papers in the envelope.” The man stood up and put his hat on, adjusting his suit a little before looking at me.  

“If you need anything else, I left a card at your place with instructions as to how you can contact me. Remember I’m at your service m’lady, Tata! ~” 

“I will keep that in mind.” 

Watching as he disappeared behind the doors of the second floor, I decided to order something to eat before heading to my fixed place. 

…

 

“…a festival?” Cale looked at the flier given to him. 

“That’s right,” Count Deruth, Cale’s father, said nonchalantly, “the festival will brighten the people's moods, as well as show that we are financially good.” 

Politics…. 

! 

“Wait, here it says the ‘Henituse’s’ are attending…I don’t have to attend…right?” 

Deruth raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t have to go.” 

“...” 

I must go. *Sight* My well-deserved rest has been postponed once again… can’t I catch a break for once? 

“On that note, I have reserved a spot on the city square where we will be presiding during the time,” he said as Cale gave him back the paper.  

“You don’t have to talk–or better said–you don’t have to even move. Just sitting there is enough.” 

Cale smiled at this I don’t have to move? Seems perfect to me! 

“I’ll be attending in that case.” 

“The festival will start in a few days. Be ready.” 

Cale exited his father’s study, walking back to his room. 

I need to tell Ron about this. It’ll be no surprise if Arm takes advantage of the festival. There stands a man with black hair waiting outside Cale’s room for him to come. 

“!” 

“Young master Cale!” The man runs towards him with puppy-like energy. 

“Choi Han, is there something you need?” Cale asked. 

“I heard from Ron that there have been suspicious activities happening in the city. So, I came to ask for permission to investigate.” Hans explained. 

Cale hummed. Strange. Usually, you would do these types of things without letting me know. Perhaps he thinks this is a bit dangerous and if he doesn't return, we know where to look? 

“You can do as you please, no need to ask for my permission.” 

“I see…thank you young master,” Han vowed, “I will report back immediately once I find anything!” As he said that, he began to leave. 

“Oh, and, Choi Han?” Cale spoke before he could fully leave. 

“Yes, Cale?” 

“If you find anything, make sure to report first. Don’t go around making havoc, got it?” Cale instructed. 

“...yes” he responded with a bit of thinking, knowing it was the best decision. 

Let’s see what they have in store for us. Cale entered his room, he’ll laze around until the festival actually begins. What a bother… 

… 

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Master-List

[dilf-issues]

Your Eyes Tell: 3 | T.S

Synopsis: Tommy could never accept a whore to love. But he did anyways, however his ego and pride might be the death of him.

Chapter Summary: Tommy is trying his best however, his efforts might not be noticed when an American mercenary meddles in their lives.

Warnings: None?

A/N: SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY CHRIS EVAN’s STEVE ROGERS WHOOOO. It’s my fic I can do whatever I want even if it means connecting two universes in one. Everything is non-canon. Should I change it to Thomas Shelby x Reader x Steve Rogers? Lol 🤨

PART 1 | PART 2

.

Y/N's once vibrant life had faded into a gray, monotonous existence. The colors of the world seemed muted, the laughter and joy of others an alien sound. The mere act of getting through the day had become a battle against her own mind, her thoughts constantly haunted by the memories of her lost baby. She longed for a way out, a ray of sunlight to penetrate the darkness that enveloped her soul, but the weight of grief and despair held her fast, refusing to loosen its grip.

Tommy had changed. He had changed completely, well, at least it was with her. He was still the same terrifying man in the Peaky Blinders. People had still feared him, and now they had feared approaching Y/N too.

Tommy had never put her under Peaky Blinder’a protection, he thought it wasn’t necessary. However, now, if any man or woman would as much as lay a single finger on her they would make their maker and Tommy wasn’t going to make it easy and smooth either, he would make them suffer.

These past few weeks, Tommy had tried everything to lift her spirits. He spent countless hours trying to cheer her up, showering her with words of encouragement and reassurances. He planned romantic dates and surprised her with small gestures of affection, hoping to bring back a glimpse of the woman he had fallen in love with. But no matter his efforts, the cloud of her depression remained over her, seemingly impenetrable, as if the very mention of the word ‘happiness’ was a foreign concept to her anguished heart.

Every time Tommy wanted to take her somewhere, she would refuse but Tommy never gave up he still tried. However, Polly had assured him that sooner or later she would move on but it would take some time. The once impatient man suddenly felt like he had all the time in the world

Tommy was is his office, as he always is--when he heard a a soft knock coming from his door, “Come in!” He grumbled as the door slowly opened.

“What?” Tommy questioned nonchalantly, his eyes never leaving the papers he was reading over.

“T-Tommy”

His heart had seemingly dropped at the voice that he recognized so well, for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest as he felt chills coarse through his body. It’s been a while since he heard her call his name.

“My love...” He breathed out, stopping whatever he was doing as he immediately stood up and walked towards her, leaning over his desk as he gestured for her to take a seat, “Is everything, alright? Is there anything that I can do? Anything?”

His voice had sounded so soft, hopeful, laced with a hint of happiness when he had heard her voice. Something she still wasn’t used to. Tommy sounded like this for the first few months she had met him but for some reason, his demeanor quickly changed as the years went by.

“I w-was thinking...” Her voice that were once soft, was now husky. She had spent so much time screaming and crying that her voice had changed but that didn’t make her any less beautiful in Tommy’s eyes, “I want to cook in the Garrison a-again”

His eyes softened at her request. He wanted so badly to impose, he wanted her to stay at home and continue to heal. Heal everything from her mind and her body. However, there was no danger if she wanted to continue working at the Garrison, it was filled with his men, and anything that happened to her, Tommy would end the world. Burn everything down to the ground if anybody tried to touch her.

“I’ll make the Garrison yours, love. If that’s what you want, you can do anything with it. You can bake again? Remember? You used to love to bake ur meat pies and everyone loved them” Tommy acknowledged, he remembered those days when Y/N would cook for everyone and they loved it. Tommy just wished he appreciated her meals more.

“No... I just want to do some work, make myself useful... And I’m sure Harry wouldn’t be too happy” The reason why she was keen on working in the Garrison is because she is trying to distract herself. Nobody knew about it but every night she couldn’t sleep due to the nightmares she was getting from what happened to her. She just felt so tired of having the same thing replaying in her mind over and over again, maybe if she kept herself busy, everything would be okay.

“Harry doesn't mind, I can make sure of that” Tommy protested, however, Y/N shook her head at his offer, “Well, fine then... I guess I can make some arrangements with Harry. If that makes you happy, it’ll make me happy”

Tommy had reached out, wanting to embrace her in his arms but Y/N flinched at the sudden contact, making Tommy stop in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, love... I shouldn't have done that” In his mind, he was disappointed and his heart was broken. He pushed his feelings away as he softly smiled at her.

Y/N turned around without saying anything else, leaving Tommy all alone with his thoughts.

He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, it seems like every day the only thing he could feel...

…Was regret.

.

“Uh… alright Y/N, just do whatever you want, yeah? But don’t push yourself too much” Harry mumbled, avoiding her eyes. It was unusual for Harry to treat her this way, however, his mind recalled back at what happened yesterday.

HARRY’S FLASHBACK.

“You be fucking nice to her, yeah? If not I’ll fucking kill your granny and shove her dead body in your mouth”

We could all guess who had said that to him.

END OF FLASHBACK.

Y/N simply nodded, patting down her apron as she wiped the bar clean. They were opening in a few minutes and she felt at home. Being here in the Garrison made her feel so much better and she was in her element.

Y/N shuffled through the pub, her figure blending into the shadows. The patrons, most of whom were locals, glanced up briefly, their gazes lingering for a moment before returning to their drinks. She could hear their whispers. talking about the incident and Tommy. Y/N found her place behind the bar, her usual expression replaced by a mask of friendliness. She was uncomfortable with the gaze and people talking about her but she stayed positive either way. As the day wore on and the pub filled, the patrons grew more raucous, their conversations and laughter filling the air. Y/N mechanically poured drinks and served customers, her eyes never lingering on any one person, almost as if she were simply going through the motions.

As the Y/N was swiftly wiping down the counter, an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise of the pub. Not only that, his accent was different. He was an American. She looked up to see a man she hadn’t seen before. The man who had ordered a drink was tall, with a chiseled jaw and a certain air about him that she couldn’t describe. He was certainly a looker, she wouldn’t deny that. His blond hair was styled in a neat way, framing his intense blue eyes. He sported a worn pair of jeans and a fitted T-shirt, the casual clothing contrasting with the hard look in his eyes. She glanced down on the necklace hanging on his neck, he was wearing a dog tag.

His gaze fixed on her with a strange curiosity. He ordered a drink, his voice smooth and polite. For a moment, Y/N’s apathy was disrupted, a flicker of curiosity flashing across her face as she caught his gaze before she quickly masked her expression and began pouring the drink.

“Hi, I’m Steve” Y/N, who had been lost in her own thoughts, looked up as the man introduced himself. His sudden greeting caught her off guard, her expression betraying a hint of surprise before it settled back into its usual apathetic mask. She simply nodded in acknowledgment and hummed.

“Um… Hi, nice to meet you. You’re not from around here” She cuts straight to the chase, her curiosity getting the best of her. She had never seen a foreigner before and as everyone knew she always had a childlike curiosity.

Steve chuckled, “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” She blushed, looking down as she felt slightly embarrassed by imposing on him. “Yes, I’m from Brooklyn actually”

No wonder it had sounded nice in her ears, Y/N didn’t know why but Steve’s voice sounded like the ones you hear on the news or movies. He seemed... Perfectly American.

“I’ve never met an American before” She muttered shyly, wiping down on the spot that had already been cleaned to make herself seem busy. Steve smiled softly as he tilted his head at her.

“Well, I’m glad I’m your first” She had stopped in her tracks, no longer wiping the counter as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Steve merely grinned at her reaction, taking a sip of his drink as he watched her with an amused expression on his face.

Suddenly, Harry lightly tapped on her shoulder and leaned into her ears “Alright love, get back to work yeah? I don’t think Tommy will be too happy if he sees you talking to another man”

Y/N was shocked. She wasn’t shocked at what Harry had said, instead, she was shocked at how he had said it.

“Tommy doesn’t own me now, does he?” Y/N uttered nonchalantly, filling the next customer's order as Harry trailed behind her.

“Well, he doesn’t own you but you are sure his. Just don’t make this hard for me, alright? I don’t want him to kill me in my sleep” Harry shuddered at the thought of Tommy burying him right next to his already-dead granny.

Y/N sighed deeply as she nodded and Harry smiled widely, holding his two thumbs up. She rolled her eyes, is the verge of death what it takes for people to be kind to her?

“So, will I ever get your name?” Steve questioned, catching her attention once again.

“I can’t talk to you in here...” She muttered cautiously as Steve raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Oh... Let me guess, you have a husband? My bad, it wasn’t my intention” Y/N’s shoulders dropped disappointingly, she wouldn’t say it out loud but he did want it to be his intention.

“He’s not... My husband...” She grumbled quietly.

Steve chuckled, “Well, then... That means I can still see you around?”

She returned a soft smile at him, she knew she shouldn’t but there was something about Steve that seemed so... Pure. She had never seen anything like it. He was nice and polite, he was the exact opposite of who Tommy was.

“Sure, I’m always here,” She said softly as Steve threw him an adorable grin. She had never seen a man smiled like that before, Tommy barely smiled.

“Great… I can’t miss the chance to know your name”

.

A/N: HHEHEHE DRAMA BOUTO COME UP

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Hadrian's Wall

Hadrian's Wall is an impressive masterpiece of military engineering built along steep ups and downs that cross space and history between England and Scotland.

The old wall, sculpted for almost 2000 years by wind and rain, climbs over hills, immerses itself in a moor to suddenly resurface among the blades of light of a wood, a karst presence that seems to absorb the energy of landscape to challenge its gravity and logic in a rollercoaster of harsh ups and downs that cross space and history.

Hadrian's Wall is no longer England but it is not yet Scotland, even if the land to the north seems wilder.

But perhaps it is just a state of mind of those who look at it, subtly altered by the emotion of treading the same stones on which the Roman legionaries walked.

In reality, unlike what many believe, the Wall is within English territory, even if it has helped define the borders of the two countries since the emperor from whom it takes its name ordered its construction in 122 AD to "separate the Romans from the barbarians," the hostile tribes of the Picts who populated today's Scotland, a tough nut to crack even for the Roman legions.

To build it in just six years, about fifteen thousand men were employed, three legions that faced the challenges of a terrain carefully chosen to exploit its advantages.

The result is an impressive masterpiece of military engineering, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987, stretching from one coast of England to the other for eighty Roman miles, about one hundred and seventeen kilometers from Solway Firth to the west and Wallsend to the east.

It is one of the many place names linked to its existence and then extending southwards with ports and coastal fortifications.

For nearly three centuries, Hadrian's Wall was northernmost and most fortified boundary of the Roman limes, a gigantic defensive system that stretched for over five thousand kilometres — from the Atlantic coast of Great Britain to the Black Sea across Europe — then continuing through present-day Middle East to Red Sea and from there cutting across North Africa to the Atlantic.

The 117km long (80 Roman miles) Hadrian's Wall was punctuated by 14 main forts, 80 minor ones and 2 watchtowers every third of a mile.

In addition to the actual wall, mainly made of stone, about 5m high and up to 3m thick, becoming six metres thick in the earthen sections, the Wall was reinforced by a ditch bristling with pointed stakes, a military road that connected the forts and allowed any point to be reached quickly and by a deep embankment, the Vallum.

The forts, rectangular in plan, varied in size according to the importance of the garrison, a pattern repeated with slight differences along the entire limes that protected the borders of the empire.

A moat and a wall punctuated by towers protected the perimeter and each side had a gate protected by two massive towers.

Inside were the headquarters — the praetorium where the praefectus castrorum reside; barracks; a hospital; warehouses and latrines, generally under the walls, while the bathrooms were outside the fortifications.

In granary, food supplies were stored to face the harsh winters or possible sieges.

In the Vicus, the civilian settlement, lived the families of the soldiers, often auxiliaries who officially could not marry.

In these villages that grew spontaneously around the forts, merchants, artisans and prostitutes also lived, attracted by the soldiers' wages.

There were also temples dedicated to Roman, local and even oriental deities that reflected the different religions of soldiers from all over the empire because Romans were very tolerant as long as the social order and the emperor were not questioned.

🎥: © pindropandhop via IG

[ane-doodles]

Yuridia's sons

Join me for a while in this little infodump…

I have previously shown pieces of information about Yuridia, being the alternative version of Narinder in the goat dimension. Also in the past I showed some slides explaining some details about the differences between the dimensions… and much longer ago I talked about my beloved OC Juvenal

And guess what?

EVERYTHING COMES TOGETHER!! >:D

Notice of long post talking about the history of ocs with a little blood here and there (descriptions of abuse and violence, and poorly detailed images of decapitation.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuridia is the main goddess in her dimension, she reigns over the cycle of reincarnation, being able to kill and bring her followers at her convenience in new bodies designed by herself. She herself can even prolong the cycle's waiting time, but she can also prevent the reincarnation of a soul into its designated body (this is considered a punishment of the worst kind). In the very distant past she was also the goddess of death, but after her blossoming as a goddess her powers were diverted to reincarnation. Something curious is that, being the goddess of reincarnation, she can kill a body… but not a soul (save this fact for later).

Yuridia is also a kind of "master of lies." She herself transforms her body into the appearance of an adorable puppy (Samoyed) to make herself look beautiful and harmless, when in reality she is terribly selfish, aggressive, manipulative and disinterested in anything that does not bring her any benefit.

The goddess also has one… three (?) children, and they are these here:

From left to right their names are 1) Ceracela, 2) Bernabé, 3) Canio. And together they make "Cancerberus"

(Jsjsjs I feel like I have a big brain for thinking about this, let me enjoy it)

Cerberus takes the place of Baal and Aym in this dimension, so here they are kind of guardians and warriors too. Unlike their mother, they are completely dogs (omitting the part with the three heads of course).

Long before her false imprisonment, Yuridia noticed how a rumor was spreading among her followers and the bishops that one of her sons would inherit the crown in the future, and that the most anticipated candidate was Canio, being the most physically similar to his mother. and with a more gentle personality "as a god who takes and gives life should be."

Although rumors spoke of inheriting the crown, Yuridia assumed it was a theft of her position, so she took matters into her own hands (literally).

Reuniting with her children, Yuridia tore off Canio's head, leaving the body of her other two children damaged.

She gets rid of the head but not having the power to permanently kill Canio's soul ends up reincarnating in a different dimension, the dimension of the lamb. This is where my oc's existing little lore comes in:

Juvenal is Canio who, having forgotten his identity, ends up receiving a new opportunity to live. He retains a sweet soul but tinged with fear due to trauma resulting from his death. Although he does not have all the powers he had, he has the trait of immortality and does not need to be turned into a demon to be taken to the crusades.

Ceracela and Bernabé develop an immediate ear for their mother having killed their brother just to maintain a position she was never in danger of losing. Despite this, they must continue their work as guardians.

Neither of them are in Yuridia's domain during her imprisonment, but are instead in charge of guarding the cult grounds in the goat's absence.

When the goat has completed his mission and is about to meet Yuridia again, they try to stop him, warning him that what he does will be terrible for everyone. The goat only thinks about ignoring them and continuing but Yuridia takes the body of her vessel and attacks her sons, considering them traitors.

Similar to Canio/Juvenal's fate they are separated and stripped of their powers. They also retain the trait of immortality.

When the goat discovers the possibility of traveling between dimensions, he is surprised to see Juvenal, immediately recognizing that he is related to Yuridia due to their physical resemblance, although the dog cannot explain it to him. It is in a meeting with the twins that he learns the story of their separation and proposes (beyond Yuridia's knowledge) to reunite them once again, bringing the boys with him to the cult of the lamb.

I'm still thinking about their reunion and what it will be like. I'm also working on a character sheet for all three, although at this point I'd have to draw all three of them separately.

These three have been occupying my mind for a long time and I have tried to give them a good story. I don't know how often I'll be able to draw them in the future (because it's hard for me not only to draw furries but also to draw three heads on one body!) but I'll always be willing to answer questions about them.

Oh! And if you have ideas to improve the story or what their reunion could be like, tell me! I would love to read it…

I hope you liked my little tragic story with a happy ending :)

[existentialterror]

ARG notes: ZampanioSim, part 2

Hey guys. catfishAnabasis (Light) here, continuing my… uh, ZampanioSim Let’s Play? That’s dumb. My investigation into the Homestuck/Magnus Archives/House of Leaves-inspired alternate reality game ZampanioSim. Read Part 1 first.

Now we have the bare minimum on Zampanio Sim’s format. Actually, we don’t know much and it’s constantly changing, but we at least have an idea of what we’re in for. Cool.

What is the story unfolding within Zampanio Sim?

So we know from the Classpect Menu game, the one that “is” ZampanioSim, that this was an effort to simulate a now-deleted game from the 1970s called Zampanio, based on a now-lost* FAQ on how to play it. At some point, possibly just search engines, I have learned that Eyedol Games is the company that makes Zampanio. Let’s take that going in.

*dubious

A lot of the “routes” off the house at the start of ZampanioSim – see the diagram – are procedurally generated places to explore or are otherwise collections of content. But other have a more directly obvious narrative to them. I have marked these places here.

Let’s go. We'll start... Uh...

…

(Okay, so there’s a recurring meme in ZampanioSim about whether personality-typing you based on whether you traverse labyrinths clockwise or counterclockwise.

But I’m confused about which one that means – like if I’m looking at a drawing of a labyrinth top-down, and I go from the entrance to the right passage, I guess I’m going counterclockwise. But if I were standing in a physical maze, the clockways framing wouldn’t occur to me – I mean, they’re both chiral processes, but like, the hand of a clock moves to the right, so which reference am I taking?

Maybe I’m not cut out for labyrinths. When I’m caving in minecraft I go to the right, so if I’m coming back into the house through the north door, then... I guess:)

We’ll start with the non-existent West Route (accessible by clicking on the west side of the house, where you’d expect a door to be.)

AdventureSimWest

AdventureSimWest is an audience-participation adventure game that, like Problem Sleuth or Early Homestuck, takes suggested commands from an audience that guide a character, and the author tells a story around it. This one has been running for quite some time, so there’s a lot of backlogged material!

AdventureSimWest gives us a lot of info right away. It’s about a character named Peewee, who is hired by Eyedol Games. Peewee and the staff of Eyedol Games are trapped inside a Space Loop. A Space Loop is like a Time Loop except that once you die, physical space (within the loop) and many of the circumstances reset, but its point in time is… not fixed. Peewee is a snakelike alien called a lamia. He first appeared in a different SBURBlike game on FarragoFiction.com called Farragnarok, which he remembers but which I don’t know anything about. He is a COOL GAMER who has lived various other lives including through the destruction of his home planet, Segundia. Keep in mind that he is from a SBURBlike.

Oh, hey, according to an offhand exchange in AdventureSimWest, solving mazes by following the righthand wall means you’re going counterclockwise. Everyone jot that down. We can bootstrap this. We can do this.

I read up through the “JR Rambles about Spoilers” interlude. And it was fun! It’s Peewee’s quirky, haphazard series of adventures in a quirky, sharp universe. The style is fun, self-aware and whimsical. I don’t know how much about the AdventureSimWest lore applies to mainstream Zampanio, especially given the multilayered narrative Zampanio serves up to us like a delicious but concerningly non-Euclidean cake, but some of the characters and concepts appear in other places, and so the worldbuilding might too. Here are some things we learn about the world of AdventureSimWest:

Peewee arrived here from his old universe by jumping into a giant, spiky, magical wall of flesh called an Echidna. He’s actually one of the set of gods who created this universe, but seems to be the only one left.

People central to the space loop remember the space loop exists.

Eyedol Games may have caused or be causing the space loop, but does not appear to be completely in control of it.

The space loop started in 1971 and is spiraling towards the end of the world in 2022.

Eyedol has other employees, including:

Wanda, the “CEBro” and “Lord of Space” (homestuck classpect). She’s tremendously rad and maybe a shapeshifter.

The Intern, a college-aged dude from Ohio, who Wanda is always trying to find and who seems unexpectedly critical to the existence of Eyedol Games. (I might apply a little homestuck logic and guess that he’s the “Muse of Time”, but this is my own speculation.)

The Closer, an aggressive businesslady in a suit and cape

Someone called the Eye Killer, who, like, lives in Eyedol’s basement and kills people.

Flower Chick, some kind of identity-stealing fae, who keeps a copy of Peewee’s skull on her desk.

Quotidians, which are another alien species – these ones are shapeshifting crows and are a hivemind. Many of them are named Tom.

Parker, a “waste”, who has made his business out of learning glitches, hacking, etc, in reality itself.

There are also just two other teams of people who don’t work at Eyedol Games, who both got ejected into some kind of infinite labyrinth around the same time. They have kind of SCP energy. I don’t know what their deal is. Yet.

What about that FAQ?

The mysterious lost ZampanioFAQ actually exists, more or less.

When I found it, it felt like natural game progression: I beat the Classpect Menu game, then there got a link to the official Discord. Then buried in one of the Discord channels, one of the pinned links goes to – yes – THE Zampanio FAQ.

But then it turned out the thing I’d found a link to was a fan-made transcript (by @verbosebabbler) of a different “official” ZampanioFAQ PDF. And through various link-hopping, most of which I now forget, I also found the original PDF on a different website by JR. So I don’t know if I got there the way I was “supposed to” or where else I might otherwise have found the FAQ. But we’re here now!

(The official discord, by the way, does not have talk permissions open in any channel. They are all frozen conversations from years ago, with only a spare few used threads acting as the actual usable channels. So the discord is its own labyrinth too. ITS A-MAZE-ING)

Okay. The ZampanioFAQ. In the frontnote to the FAQ, JR describes this finding a printout of fic they'd read long ago, and sharing it as evidence that they did not invent Zampanio – that this is a sburbsim/glitchFAQ (we’ll get to that, hang tight) crossover fanfic by someone else that they read once, lost, and recently re-found - and that it has a couple indications that it’s referencing Zampanio.

Mostly, contentwise, this FAQ is sort of a interuniversal document about how to play SBURB (the universe-creation game that the characters in Homestuck play), written by a group of players. The Zampanio FAQ has, unfortunately, been heavily redacted by interdimensional forces, perhaps SBURB itself.

It’s like it’s written by a new set of characters who are playing their own game of Sburb. They’re learning about it as they experience it! Haha, that’s a cute gimmick.

Oh, the skull? Yeah, don’t worry about that. Hah, no, I get how it looks. But it's actually totally fine.

The redacted words in the ZampanioFAQ seem mostly to do with certain details of SBURB itself, like SBURB is trying to keep its players from spoilers.

Drawing from VerboseBabbler’s transcript and partial de-redaction of the FAQ, I gave my hand at making what sense I could out of the original PDF.

Excerpt. You may not like it, but this is peak ARG performance: multiple collaborative layers of nested PDF annotation.

--------------

Trying to fill in these blanks made me appreciate the potential of the fan-ARG.

Homestuck is a story that both rewards a lot of knowledge about its worldbuilding and also often doesn't explain itself – I think that’s why it has such intense fanwork, because it implies so much but leaves you to fill in the gaps.

Like, okay, classpects, alright? Fans make a big deal about classpecting and it’s cool but it’s also kind of nothing, like, we get some gestures about what it means but not much. (Quick, what does a mage do?) There’s so much fanon trying to make sense of it that even the wiki explanation is based on fanon. But fanon can be dope and people have done some really, really neat stuff bouncing off of the gaps in canon.

ZampanioSim is about nested realities and missing information, and it's heavily based on specific fanworks of homestuck. And filling in missing information on this document, I could use my knowledge of Homestuck to make inferences about this related-but-separate storyline and worldbuilding. That’s so cool!

In the same way that the best fanfiction draws from and interacts repeatedly with canon, the fan-ARG can act as a commentary on or a dialogue with its sources - a story made stronger by connection to another.

There have been other fan ARGs and this is really my first experience with the genre (well - does EverymanHYBRID count as a fanwork? discuss), but like, holy shit, I get it now.

-----------------

Okay, let’s regroup. So the FAQ is a bunch of advice written collaboratively by a group of people playing SBURB. The FAQ is about a kind of SBURB that is very similar to the one in Homestuck – but it’s even more similar to another game on the FarragoFiction website, SBURBsim, which is “is a fanmade browser simulation” of SBURB.

In SBURBsim, you can throw in a randomly-generated or customized set of characters into their own session, and SBURBsim will invent plotlines, fights, character progression, romance, alchemy, time travel shenanigans, and more, eventually telling you a story about how that session might go. It is mind-bogglingly ornate and cool, check it out.

Okay, anyway, so the game described in the FAQ is mostly Sburb-y but has some clear Farrago/SburbSIM elements in the form of the fan-classes – wastes, graces, smiths, and more. But it has some stuff that feels more Homestuck-classic-SBURB, like in the FAQ [EDIT: SBURBsim] there’s a convention where all the randomly generated player-usernames have the same initials as their classpects, so like the session’s Bard of Time might have the username belugaTrainer or belligerentTriangle or whatever, which isn’t a thing in Homestuck nor in the FAQ. It also adds a few elements all its own, like that there’s a recognized pantheon of gods who have sway over the rules of the universe, with their own usernames and classpects.

(Hey, synthesizing that with some background Homestuck knowledge + what we’ve learned from AdventureSimWest, I think the ‘gods’ are the players whose Sburb session created the ones that the FAQ authors were born into. Elegant!)

Oh yeah, as JR mentions, the Zampanio FAQ also takes heavy and pseudo-explicit inspiration from a fanfiction called the Sburb Glitch FAQ, a sprawling fanwork I haven’t read that’s sort of a game guide and technical manual to SBURB. Maybe more of this is references to that, I don’t know.

(Sidenote, Rose’s GameFAQ was one of my favorite plot points in Homestuck. I’m only sorry it wasn’t used more. So I’m delighted to see all these fanworks that took inspiration from it.)

So okay whether the FAQ players are more playing OG-SBURB, or SBURBsim, or a game that has aspects of both – well, they’re all pretty similar, I don’t’ think we need to split hairs. This document is an in-universe survival guide for a SBURBlike.

You know what it’s not particularly like? ZampanioSim, the game it supposedly inspired!

This is so fun to me. SBURBsim existed long before ZampanioSim. If you were going to make a simulator game based on the Zampanio FAQ, that game would be SBURBsim. But SBURBsim was already a thing! JR knows this – they worked on SBURBsim! Their sburbsona is on the about page!

They mention this in the introduction to the “found scanned printout” of the FAQ - they initially read it deeply to figure out, through the redaction, if it was a fanwork for their own project (SBURBsim). They write:

this is obvs JUST the faq, not any of the like, description or author name or all that shit that eventually lead me down the rabbit hole. like, you could find the missing sections in this weird ...not arg? I don't THINK? and they started talking about things like the achievement system and shit, stuff that stuck with me a lot more if what i chose to focus on in zampaniosim is any indication. still. having a record of the START of this branch is better than nothing

So, okay, the FAQ itself is not explicitly Zampanio. We’re missing the description and whatever else that’s supposedly out there somewhere, as lost media. I tried to find some reason to think the fic was supposedly out of time, like that it would have been from before SBURBsim was made, but there isn't any - everything lines up with what JR said in the forward.

So I think maybe reading so far into the FAQ without that other supposed metadata was a great time and, yes, sold me on a new art form, but it wasn’t that productive in terms of the broader Zampanio story.

... Or was it?

I've connected the dots

There was a reference somewhere – I think in the South route, though I can’t swear to it – that was pretty outright something like “JR added Magnus Archives elements to Zampanio because of an at-the-time obsession with the Spiral from TMA.” Now, some stuff like the south route is less in-character than in other places, so I don’t want to necessarily say that everything like that will “carry through” to the rest of canon, if that makes sense. But it helps put those pieces together, so here’s my running theory:

In the story, Zampanio is a memeplex that moves and spreads between dimensions - very diverse multiple dimensions, including different fictional worlds. (Think the Big Bad in There Is No Antimemetics Division - effecting "universes which embed ours as fiction".) Sort of a psychic prion that goes around twisting orderly systems and punching its way between meta-layers. The core of it stays similar between - it has a predilection for spirals, mazes, meta bullshit, and games - but some of the specifics change from instance to instance.

Zampanio probably spread rampant among this constellation of Sburb universes, perhaps because Zampanio is affiliated with games and Sburb universe is a game. (Or at least uses a game to reproduce.) It’s a great carrier. From there, Zampanio rode into our universe on the back of the FAQ. (Game FAQs being a known way to throw information between Sburb dimensions, in Homestuck.)

JR took the seed that came with the FAQ and instantiated Zampanio in this universe, and added their own compatible TMA-spiral flavoring to it.

(This also lines up with another cool aspect of Zampanio, which is that if you make your own fan-work or fan-story about Zampanio, that’s canon too. It is impossible to gamejack this. Thus far I’m focusing on JR’s ZampanioSim canon, but there are other people out there putting their own spins on it, which are also canon.)

Questions I have now, if that theory is true:

What other aspects of ZampanioSim carry on between versions?

Is Eyedol necessarily associated with the Zampanio memeplex? Does or did it actually create ZampanioSim in some causal way?

Does the Space Loop that occurs in AdventureSimWest have ramifications or equivalents in other instances of Zampanio?

Why does Zampanio like games so much? (Is it because interactive games are a convenient way to punch through from one dimension to the fictional dimension within it?)

There are comments about someone, maybe Eyedol, trying to scrub the ZampanioFAQ from the internet (in our dimension). Why would they want that?

What’s the other missing metadata that would have associated the ZampanioFAQ with Zampanio?

Who wrote the ZampanioFAQ? Was it written (...IC) as a fanwork of SBURBsim or did it “come from a SBURB universe”? Who censored it?

Aw man. And there's still so much I haven't even gotten into.

Like, okay, do you guys know gopher? It’s an early alternative to HTTP as a way of organizing the internet that was mostly sidelined, but a few servers are still around.

Apparently there’s a bunch more Zampanio stuff only accessible via Gopher and I’m going to have to figure out how to use it.

Thanks, JR, YOU MAD SORCERER.

So, that's where I'm at vis a vis ZampanioSim. I gotta get back to my own stuff for right now, but thank you ZampanioSim discord for helping blaze trails and mostly to JR for weaving such a wonderful weird mystery.

If you have questions or comments you want me to talk about in a future one of these, my ask box is open.* Also, if you get into ZampanioSim yourself, feel free to say hi on the discord.**

*(okay I know people have been involved in this for years and I’m still mostly trying to formulate my own opinions about what’s going on, so if you know something that’s like “an actual answer” and want to share, then consider phrasing it as an ominous clue instead of telling me outright – but I’m under the strong impression that this is an ARG where there’s not gonna be like a canonical underlying “answer” to a lot of things so, you know, do what brings you joy.)

**Your first challenge is to find the discord. I wanna be cryptic too!

[satellitebroadcast]

Israel has killed 1,151 workers in Gaza’s healthcare system since October 2023, according to the Palestinian Ministry of Health. Among the dead are 260 nurses, 184 health associates, 165 physicians, and 76 pharmacists, along with hundreds of management and support staff. While most of the victims’ names have been confirmed by health authorities, over 150 confirmations are still pending due to Israel’s refusal to release the martyrs’ bodies. In addition to those killed, hundreds of health workers remain imprisoned, where they face abuse and torture, as documented by international organizations. Ziad Muhammad Al-Dalu, a physician from Al-Shifa Hospital, was among those who died in Israeli custody, as reported by the Ministry of Health. His death serves as yet another example of Israel’s deliberate targeting of Gaza’s healthcare workers and infrastructure, actions that violate international humanitarian law. The ongoing attacks on healthcare have left tens of thousands of people with life-altering injuries. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), approximately 25% of those injured between October 2023 and July 2024 have suffered burns, severe limb injuries, or amputations, with no access to rehabilitation services. Dozens of physiotherapists were killed in the attacks, and inpatient rehabilitation services have been shut down for months. “Even the most essential assistive devices, like wheelchairs and crutches, are lacking due to the restricted flow of aid,” the WHO said. Israel’s blockade on humanitarian aid continues to choke Gaza’s healthcare system. At the moment, one of the most urgent problems is the shortage of soap and detergents. With the cost of a small bar of soap reaching USD 10—a price that could buy approximately 2 kilograms of soap in Germany—many families in Gaza are unable to afford basic hygiene supplies. “A family relying on cash-for-work income would spend 60% of the unskilled income on consumable hygiene products,” warned organizations monitoring water and sanitation in Gaza. With soap being an omnipresent product, it might be difficult to imagine how severe the effects of a shortage might be, particularly for children. Health and hygiene officials estimate that adequate access to soap in the Gaza Strip could reduce respiratory infections by 20% and diarrheal diseases by up to 40%. This would potentially prevent illness in at least one in three children currently suffering from diarrhea. However, humanitarian organizations estimate that delivering the 5 million soap bars needed each month to meet demand in Gaza is basically impossible under the existing restrictions. Despite this situation, Gaza recently completed the first phase of its polio vaccination campaign, with an 87% coverage rate among children—just below the 90% benchmark. The campaign is set to resume in the coming weeks, but incidents of Israeli forces obstructing access to those taking part in it persist, jeopardizing future public health efforts. As winter approaches, the need for essential medicines, hygiene supplies, and nutritious food in Gaza becomes even more urgent. Concerns about potential floods and worsening living conditions highlight once again the critical need for an immediate ceasefire and rebuilding of the health system.

[crimsonstonetranslations]

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo Another Files - The Lamenting Doll - file 01

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo novel translation

Another Files - The Lamenting Doll file 01 - cries of the dead

- 1

- Scratch.

Scratch— Such noises could be heard.

They were strange noises, akin to sharp nails clawing against a wooden board. Shizuko couldn’t tell whether those sounds were merely a dream or reality.

Yet soon enough, Shizuko slowly opened her eyes as she remained lying in bed. Cold, bluish moonlight shone through the window and into the dark room.

Scratch. The noise continued.

So it wasn’t a dream after all. What was that noise?

Shizuko held her breath as she listened carefully. Scratch scratch.

It sounded like it came from below the veranda, but it also seemed like it could be from the ceiling. Perhaps some kind of rat or pest eating through the boards.

Let’s just check it tomorrow. She rolled over to lie against her back. At that moment, something touched the tip of her nose.

What? Shizuko opened her eyes in reflex.

A black shadow appeared to have hovered over her. The shadow resembled a human figure wearing a kimono, its obi hanging loose.

Then— Two eyes gazed intently towards Shizuko from above.

Widely opened, they were the colour of blood. Shizuko wanted to scream, but her voice refused to come out.

Her body froze and she couldn’t get up. She could feel the weight of the shadow across her entire body. Shizuko’s forehead flooded with sweat.

Her hairs stood on end, back shivering. Those eyes—they remained locked on Shizuko.

Except for its eyes, its body appeared entirely black, as if painted over, making it impossible to tell whether the entity was young or old, male or female. “O…er…ere…” said the black shadow.

Shizuko couldn’t understand what it had said. Even so, the words sounded terrifying against her ears. What on earth—?!

Shizuko concentrated on her throat, desperate to let out her voice. Yet somehow, her voice refused to leave.

Her body was stiff, entirely unable to move a muscle as if she was being crushed by something. The black shadow stared at Shizuko for some time before disappearing moments later.

That instant, Shizuko’s body relaxed, as if the stiffness she had just felt had never happened in the first place. At last, Shizuko could finally sit up. She turned to the direction the shadow had disappeared to.

The shadow went into the parchment scroll hanging on the wall and vanished without so much of a sound. The eyes of the person depicted in that parchment appeared to overlap with the eyes that had been looking at Shizuko earlier.

Shizuko could only remain dumbfounded. -

2 -

The gently blowing wind felt humid. Having finished her afternoon class, Ozawa Haruka walked past the back of Building B with light-footed steps.

She was going to see Saitou Yakumo. Not that she had any business in particular. Tomorrow marked the start of their long university break, so Haruka thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to show her face beforehand.

Come to think of it, this was an amazing progress. Just not too long ago, Haruka had only ever come to see Yakumo if it had something to do with a case.

Because of that, Yakumo had labelled her as a troublemaker. It was only recently that she was able to visit the man with no hesitation despite lacking any reason to do so. Well, Haruka was probably the only one who didn’t mind, while Yakumo would feel annoyed. Even so, nothing would change if she kept worrying over such things.

Moments later, a two-storey prefabricated building came into sight. Each floor of the building had a row of ten or so rooms the university lended out as circle clubrooms.

Yakumo practically lived in the room situated at the very end of the first floor, a clubroom labelled the <Movie Research Circle>. To begin with, the Movie Research Circle didn’t actually exist. No, to be more precise, Yakumo and Haruka were the only actual members of the circle.

The other members were merely names Yakumo had borrowed to fulfil the requirements when submitting paperwork to the student affairs office. Yakumo had cunningly tricked the university to get the room all to himself.

“Hey—” greeted Haruka as she opened the door to the Movie Research Circle clubroom. “Oh, it’s you,” replied Yakumo. He sat on his usual chair as he acted all troubled.

He had a fair complexion and a good-looking face, yet his eyes always looked sleepy, his hair unkempt as if he had just woken up, making him appear disorganised. Haruka had first known Yakumo due to a spiritual case.

Though he usually hid it with a black contact lens, Yakumo’s left eye was actually a vibrant red colour. It wasn’t just red, the eye also had the ability to see spirits of the dead—in other words, ghosts.

With that ability of his, Yakumo hadn’t only resolved the spiritual case Haruka had brought, he had even brought a previously undiscovered murder case to light. Ever since then, they had been involved in a number of spiritual cases together.

Unfortunately, a significant number of said cases had been brought by Haruka. Thanks to that, Yakumo kept calling Haruka a troublemaker and constantly voiced his complaints whenever he had the chance to. “What kind of reaction was that? Even though I came all the way here,” said Haruka with a displeased tone on purpose. But Yakumo wasn’t the type to be perplexed by Haruka’s actions and make an attempt to lighten her mood.

“I never asked you to,” said Yakumo unabashedly, staring at Haruka through half-lidded eyes. Even without putting it into words, Haruka knew those eyes were questioning her, ‘what sort of trouble are you bringing this time?’

“Just so you know, I’m not bringing you any trouble today,” said Haruka as she sat on a chair across from Yakumo. “If not for trouble, why did you come here?”

“No reason. I’m just curious what you’re up to.” “It’s really unpleasant having to be watched by you.”

A harsh thing to say, but Yakumo had always been acting this way. Haruka had used to be unhappy about it in the beginning, but she had gotten used to it now. She wouldn’t be able to respond to Yakumo’s banter if she were to be offended easily.

“Well, sorry about that.” “If you knew that much, why don’t you hurry up and leave?”

“What even?” “I said, I don’t have time to entertain the likes of someone who has nothing to do,” grumbled Yakumo before glaring at the chessboard on the table.

“What are you doing?” asked Haruka. Yakumo raised his left eyebrow and pointed at the chessboard. “What do you think this is?”

“A chessboard.” “So you do know?”

“Anyone would’ve known that much.” “Then I ask you this: what idiot would use a chessboard for something other than to play chess?”

He could’ve just said that he was playing chess, yet he had to twist his words in that manner. Furthermore, that wasn’t what Haruka had intended to ask.

Could chess even be played with one player? That was what she had meant. Haruka wanted to emphasise the fact, but she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

She turned to find a face she recognised. “Isshin-san!”

“Haruka-chan. It’s been a while.” Standing there with a compassionate, Buddha[1]-like smile was Yakumo’s uncle, Isshin.

He was the person who had chosen Yakumo’s name as well as raised him. Clad in monk robes, his dignified appearance and wise manner of speech gave him the impression of someone much older, despite only being in his thirties. 

Since Yakumo’s mother had disappeared, Isshin had had to become the one to raise Yakumo. He had been in his twenties at the time, so he had to have struggled to do so in place of Yakumo’s parents, yet he hadn’t let it show. Furthermore, Isshin’s left eye was also red, just like Yakumo.

Even so, the colour wasn’t genuine. The opposite of Yakumo, he wore a red contact lens on purpose. It was concrete proof of the depth of Isshin’s love. He had purposely made himself be seen strangely in an attempt to understand Yakumo’s feelings, even if just a fraction of it, by experiencing the same suffering as Yakumo.

“You two get along well as usual,” said Isshin as he nodded repeatedly. Haruka felt flustered over being described so warmly, vaguely responding, “No, that...”

On the other hand, Yakumo began to complain, “Never have I ever thought that I would be mistaken to get along well with the likes of her,” Haruka felt like crying over the difference between her reaction and Yakumo’s.

“So, what did Uncle come here for?” asked Yakumo lazily. While she felt Yakumo’s words were unbecoming towards the uncle who had raised him, Haruka had more or less the same thought. It was in fact unusual for Isshin to come visit Yakumo in his room like this.

“Hm,” Isshin nodded, taking a seat next to Haruka before opening his mouth. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you—” How rare for Isshin to have something to discuss with Yakumo.

Unlike Haruka, tilting her head over what subject the man could possibly have wanted to discuss, Yakumo had a sour look on his face as if he knew what was up. “Someone from the families supporting the temple probably experienced a spiritual phenomenon, so Uncle wants me to settle it—something along those lines, right?”

Resting his chin on one arm, Yakumo made an annoyed expression. That mannerism somehow looked adorable.

“You certainly are well aware,” said Isshin in surprise, while he maintained his composure. “Uncle isn’t great at hiding things, after all. It all shows on Uncle’s face.”

“Perhaps you are right.” Isshin scratched his head with a troubled gesture as he laughed bitterly.

“Just what sort of spiritual phenomenon was it?” asked Haruka. Yakumo immediately interrupted, “Don’t ask unnecessary questions.”

“Why?” There shouldn’t be any harm in hearing him out first.

“After listening to it, I’ll definitely have no choice but to help.” —Right.

Yakumo didn’t actually like getting involved in supernatural affairs and would make all kinds of excuses not to do so, yet he had a trait of being unable to ignore those who were troubled. Such was the reason, despite numerous complaints each time, in the end he would reluctantly move and accept the request.

Not to mention that it was Isshin’s request, he certainly wouldn’t refuse after hearing the story. “Isshin-san, what happened?”

Yakumo let out an audible sigh and held his head. He didn’t try to stop Haruka, so Yakumo had probably intended to accept Isshin’s request from the start.

“So the truth is—” Isshin calmly opened his story, “along the Fuji River in Yamanashi Prefecture, there’s a sake brewery that has been passed down for generations since the Edo period.” “Yamanashi Prefecture?” asked Yakumo, his expression filled with suspicion.

“Yes. One of the families supporting my temple has an acquaintance from that sake brewery and they asked for my assistance,” Isshin replied calmly. “What happened there?” asked Haruka.

“Hm,” Isshin nodded once before continuing. “Apparently, as of late the woman called Shizuko-san who inherited that sake brewery is being disturbed by strange noises every night.” “Noises—”

“Yes. She said that at night as she slept, she would hear some sort of scratching noises.” “Couldn’t it just be a rat or something?” said Yakumo lazily.

“If it was nothing more than a noise, she might have the same idea. Shizuko-san did think it came from a rat at first, but—” said Isshin, briefly pausing his sentence. He probably meant nothing by it, yet Isshin’s tone of speech, light, slow, and overcomplicated, sent shivers down Haruka’s spine just by listening.

It felt more terrifying than the ghost stories she had watched on television. “She said that suddenly there was a shadow of a person standing beside her bed, whispering something to her.”

“If no one’s getting hurt, just leave it be,” said Yakumo as he held back a yawn. If a shadow were to stand beside her bed every day, Haruka wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully out of fear.

Yet to Yakumo, who could see ghosts all the time, ghosts that came and went were nothing more than a routine he had to go through. “Even so, something is definitely strange,” Isshin said with a troubled frown.

“Strange?” replied Yakumo with a question. Isshin nodded before continuing. “According to Shizuko-san, after the shadow whispered something to her, it always disappeared into a parchment scroll hanging on the wall.”

“Parchment scroll…?” “That’s right. In Shizuko-san’s room, there’s a parchment scroll hanging on the wall and there is a painting on that scroll.”

“In other words, the ghost came from that painting?” asked Haruka enthusiastically. “It’s yet to be confirmed. But from Shizuko-san’s story, I think it’s likely…” said Isshin before turning to Yakumo.

Lifting the left side of his lips, Yakumo grinned. “There’s nothing I can say just from the story…Besides, what was the strange thing that Uncle referred to earlier?” asked Yakumo. Isshin nodded in understanding. “Yesterday, I asked Shizuko to send a photo of the painting. Something felt off about the painting.”

“There’s something peculiar about the painting?” asked Yakumo, seemingly uninterested. “It’s an ancient Japanese painting, perhaps painted during the Edo period, but…well, rather than explaining it in words, it’ll be easier to understand if you see it for yourself,” said Isshin as he took out his phone and displayed the photo on the screen.

Yakumo stared at the screen. Hesitantly, Haruka also took a peek at the photo. “Eh?” blurted Haruka unintentionally as soon as the painting came into her field of vision.

Even the usually composed Yakumo was stunned, frowning his forehead, mouth half agape. The painting was of a man wearing a white kimono.

Despite the painting’s creation being estimated to date back in the Edo period, his hair appeared to be in disarray instead of tied into a bun. Standing still, the man could be mistaken for a ghost. Carrying a kongozue[2] over his shoulder, he gazed sharply forwards.

The mysterious painting emanated a powerful and daunting atmosphere, yet simultaneously a somewhat melancholic feel. What stood out in particular were the eyes of the man in the painting.

His eyes were dyed a bright red colour, almost like blood. “This...” Haruka muttered, yet she couldn’t find the words to continue.

“Either way, something is indeed strange about the person depicted in this painting. Hence I came to discuss it with you,” said Isshin, ending his explanation. Yakumo gave no reply, merely continuing to stare at the ancient looking painting.

Perhaps his thoughts were all over the place. If the ghost had really come out of the painting as Isshin had said, then it might have been the ghost of the figure in this painting.

Yakumo possessed a red left eye capable of seeing spirits of the dead. He had inherited this trait from his father. Even so, surely Yakumo’s father’s eyes hadn’t just turned red out of nowhere at some point.

To discover the identity of the person depicted in this painting might just be the same as unravelling Yakumo’s own origins. “So? Do you think you could look into the matter Shizuko-san is going through?” questioned Isshin as he threw a curious look towards Yakumo.

After a long silence, Yakumo exhaled a deep sigh. “I don’t mind looking into it, but I couldn’t tell anything without going directly to the scene.” “Can’t you tell anything just from this?” asked Haruka, and Yakumo grimaced.

“I can’t even tell whether a ghost is genuinely present just by looking at a photo of the painting.” “Well, that’s true…”

As Yakumo had said, he couldn’t tell anything without seeing things in person. “In that case, why don’t we go there to have a look? I’ll contact them,” said Isshin with a smile.

“I’m curious too, so I want to go,” said Haruka. Luckily, the university break starts tomorrow. Besides, she didn’t have anything planned. Her schedule was completely blank.

Travelling like this every now and then wouldn’t hurt. “Don’t tell me you’re coming too?” asked Yakumo to Haruka with a sour expression.

“It’s fine, right, Isshin-san?” Instead of Yakumo, Haruka turned to Isshin for approval.

As expected, Isshin responded lightly, “Of course.” Yakumo appeared displeased, yet he didn’t protest any further. “It’s fine if we go, but how are we going to get there?” said Yakumo, folding his arms.

They merely heard that the place was situated in Yamanashi Prefecture and had no idea of its exact location, but it had to take a long time to reach there. “That is certainly a problem. My car is currently under repairs since it broke...We could get there by train, but afterwards we would have to walk forty minutes from the nearest train station to the sake brewery.”

When living in the metropolitan area, travelling with trains would be a regular and convenient method. However, that wasn’t the case in the countryside. Many areas were hard to reach by public transport. Even merely going shopping became troublesome in the absence of a personal vehicle. Haruka’s hometown was no different.

“Perhaps we could rent a car?” suggested Haruka. “And you’re going to drive?” asked Yakumo, narrowing his eyes.

“Impossible...my driving licence is just for show...Ah, why don’t you drive, Yakumo-kun?” “I’ll have to pass.”

“Why?” “Ever since someone caused trouble along a mountain road, I refuse to drive.”

Fine, the someone Yakumo had mentioned was none other than Haruka. They had a bit of a dispute over a ghost that had appeared inside a tunnel along a mountain road. Come to think of it, Haruka had in fact never seen Yakumo drive since then.

“Well, it couldn’t be helped. I’ll drive instead,” said Isshin, but Yakumo stopped him. “Seems like that isn’t necessary.” “Hm?”

“Our driver is here.” Just what did Yakumo mean by that?

Haruka and Isshin tilted their heads when the door opened with a thud. “Pardon the intrusion.” A voice could be heard arriving with the sight of Gotou entering the room—

- 3

- “Dammit. Why do I have to send off and pick you guys up?” Gotou grumbled as he manipulated the steering wheel in the driver’s seat.

“It’s fine, isn’t it? Aren’t you free anyway?” Yakumo shrugged, sitting in the back seat acting as if he was the owner of the car. It was true that Gotou had a lot of free time.

Gotou was part of the Unsolved Cases Special Investigations Division, which fell under the Criminal Division. They were responsible for handling unsolved cases, often referred to as cold cases. It might sound promising, but Gotou’s true responsibility was to sort through documents of old cases. He would get called as backup if a high profile case was underway, but such chances were incredibly rare.

In other words, he was a member of the outcast. His partner, Ishii, must be diligently carrying out their duties at this moment, but to Gotou, their work was extremely boring.

Getting fed up over days of sorting documents on end, he came to visit Yakumo for a change of pace. The man hadn’t imagined that it would result in being asked to drive around like this. Since they haven’t gotten any proper cases lately, he didn’t mind so long as he didn’t get bored. Regardless, Gotou didn’t like to admit it out loud.

“Despite what it looks like, I have things on my plate too.” “Doesn’t look like it.”

“What did you say?” “Besides, it’s impossible for a bear whose only strength is to wander around like Gotou-san to be assigned work significant enough to keep one busy.”

Whenever Gotou opened his mouth, this always happened. After taking advantage of him as a substitute for a taxi, forget apologising, Yakumo was mocking him instead.

“If you don’t like it, you can get off here.” “Fine by me,” Yakumo calmly replied.

“What?” “But I won’t accept any more requests from Gotou-san. Just so you know.”

He always poked at other people’s weaknesses. So far, Gotou had borrowed Yakumo’s assistance for solving cases countless times.

All because Yakumo’s red left eye that could see spirits of the dead—ghosts—had come in handy amidst investigations. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason for Gotou to drag Yakumo to get involved in cases, but there was no point in debating that here.

“Fine, I understand. We’ll go, alright?” “Good to know that you understand,” Yakumo calmly nodded.

Haruka, who sat next to Yakumo, suppressed a laugh as she watched them banter. Gotou wanted to ask what was so funny, but decided not to. “So, where are we going?” asked Gotou towards Isshin, who sat on the front passenger seat.

Despite being asked to drive them to their destination, he hadn’t been informed of its location. “Make a turn just ahead, and proceed into highway 20.

Gotou turned at the crossroad Isshin had pointed to, and entered highway 20. “And then?”

“Ahead there will be the Chofu interchange, from there go towards Chuo—” “What?”

Gotou spontaneously raised his voice. “The Chuo expressway. Please take the descending path. Afterwards, go down at the Kofu Showa interchange...”

“Wait wait wait. Where on earth are you guys actually going?” They were roughly a hundred kilometres away from the Kofu Showa interchange.

“Where to? If we’re going down the Kofu Showa interchange, obviously we’re going to Yamanashi Prefecture,” said Isshin with a friendly smile. “I wasn’t aware that we’re travelling that far,” Gotou immediately protested.

Yet Isshin’s expression remained unchanged. “Is that so? I thought you already knew...” What nonsense.

Isshin and Yakumo were probably conspiring with each other, purposely keeping silent about their destination until Gotou agreed to drive for them with his car. His appearance may be all smiling and friendly, yet this man was actually cunning.

“So? Should we stop?” said Yakumo as he stretched his body. “What?”

“If Gotou-san refuses, we could simply take the train there. That said, I wouldn’t forget the treatment I got.” His words were borderline threatening.

Yakumo was practically declaring that he wouldn’t stop mocking Gotou if the detective refused now. “Fine, let’s go. Happy?” Gotou swore as they passed through the Chofu Interchange.

Pressing deeper on the gas pedal to accelerate the car, Gotou asked Isshin next to him, “What about your daughter?” Isshin had a seven-year-old daughter. Was it alright for him to travel so far, leaving her behind?

“Yes. Among my mentors, there’s a monk called Eishin who likes to care for people. I asked him to help.” “Does this happen often?”

“Because of my work, I often had to be away from home. Nao is used to it, too.” Contrary to his words, there was a hint of melancholy across Isshin’s face.

Unexpectedly, monk duties often demanded one to be away from home, such as carrying out funerals and memorial services. While it couldn't be helped, there had to be a part of him that felt dissatisfied. Not to mention Isshin’s daughter—Nao—aside from having hearing impairment, also had a complicated background.

Deep down, Isshin must have wanted to be by her side as much as possible. “In that case, let’s quickly settle things and come home,” said Gotou right as his phone rang.

He picked up the call with a hands-free device. “Who?”

<Ah, it’s me, Ishii Yuutarou.> Ishii’s hesitant voice could be heard.

Gotou came this far out of persuasion, but he had only just remembered that he hadn’t said anything to Ishii. “I know.”

<Uh...Detective Gotou. Where are you right now?> “I’ve just left Chofu, now going into Chuo.”

<Eh?> “Didn’t you hear me? I said I’ve just entered Chuo expressway from the Chofu interchange.”

<Eeeh? Why are you there? It’s still working hours, isn’t it?!> “You go and work instead. Goodbye.”

Ishii sounded like he still had more to say, but Gotou ignored him and ended the call. Despite this sudden development, perhaps Gotou could take advantage of it to kill his boredom rather than having to sort documents with Ishii. With a change of heart, Gotou stepped on the gas pedal even further.

- 4

- They reached their destination after an hour and a half drive.

It was closer than expected, but come to think of it, Yamanashi Prefecture was indeed close. The prefecture was located next to Tokyo. Compared to Haruka’s hometown in Nagano, this was much closer. Gotou parked his car at the sake brewery carpark.

Haruka was about to exit the car when she saw Yakumo, next to her, still asleep with his hands folded over his stomach. These chances are rare, thought Haruka.

Haruka poked Yakumo’s side with a finger. Startled, Yakumo was shot awake. Right at that moment, his head bumped against the car window.

Haruka thought it was funny and couldn’t help but laugh. However, Yakumo didn’t appear pleased, glaring sharply at Haruka.

“What are you doing?” “What is it? I don’t know anything.”

Haruka pretended to be clueless. Not that she thought she could fool Yakumo, but if she were to admit the truth, one could only imagine what insults Yakumo would throw at her.

“Your fault for snoring carefreely despite asking someone else to drive,” complained Gotou, already outside the car. Yakumo looked like he wanted to retaliate, but perhaps his head wasn’t working properly yet after having just woken, so he merely sighed and exited the car.

Haruka followed suit. They were greeted by the sight of lush greenery surrounded by tall mountains. Not too different from Haruka’s hometown in Nagano.

If the weather was decent, they might even get to see Mount Fuji. Unfortunately, they couldn’t as of now as it was covered by thick clouds. “Aren’t there any onsen around here?” said Gotou, lighting his cigarette.

“Would be nice if there were. A secret spring hidden by Takeda Shingen, or something. Ah, since we came all the way to Yamanashi, I want to eat some hoto,” said Haruka excitedly. She had often heard of hoto as a popular dish from Yamanashi, but she had never tried it before. Since the opportunity presented itself, Haruka ended up wanting to give it a try.

“Apparently torimotsu is good, too,” said Gotou with a gleeful smile. “That doesn’t sound bad either,” Haruka replied in agreement.

Witnessing Haruka and Gotou’s enthusiasm, Yakumo threw a cold gaze at them. “You two came here to play around?” That singular line brought them into realisation.

They hadn’t come all the way to Yamanashi for onsen, hoto, nor torimotsu. Their objective was to solve a spiritual case. Now wasn’t the time to be excited.

“Once all is said and done, I’ll treat you all as thanks. Before that, let’s go here first. I’ve informed them of our visit,” said Isshin, encouraging them. “Right,” said Haruka, walking alongside Yakumo. Gotou quickly went after them as well.

Their destination, the sake brewery, was an old-fashioned architecture that evoked the atmosphere of the Edo period, with an indescribable charm to it. “The view isn’t so bad,” commented Gotou in awe.

“Mhm. This sake brewery is famous among locals and has been in operation since the Kansei era.” “Amazing,” blurted Haruka upon hearing Isshin’s explanation.

“Excuse me,” Isshin called out, having stood before the entrance. However, his voice was cut off by sounds of a man and a woman arguing from within the house. “You killed him, didn’t you!”

“Stop accusing me! On what basis are you even saying such things to me?” “Nonsense! I know about everything!”

“Please, just leave already!” “Shut up! I’m going even without you telling me!”

With that line, the door opened with a thud and a man who appeared to be in his forties exited the house. From his flustered face, they were able to tell that this was the man who had been arguing just now.

“Who are you people?” said the man after scanning and evaluating the faces of everyone standing before the door. “We are here as we have some business with Shizuko-san who lives here. My name is Isshin,” Isshin replied politely.

“Ahh,” the man responded with an irritated tone. “She’s inside. Maybe.” “I see.”

“I don’t know who you people are, but you better be careful with that vixen.” said the man, turning to the door with a sharp gaze. “What do you mean?” asked Isshin.

The man smiled cynically. “Since that woman is a murderer.” Having said that, the man left in a rush.

“What was that about just now?” With a serious expression, Gotou observed that man until he went out of sight. Haruka had the same thought as Gotou. She had no idea what was up, but she felt it was inappropriate to act arrogantly towards people you had only just met.

On top of that, the man’s attitude of calling another a murderer wasn’t very pleasant. “I deeply apologise for all the commotion—” a voice spoke as Haruka stood there half agape. She turned to find a woman standing behind the door. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties.

The woman didn’t appear to have any makeup on, yet she had sharp eyes and a well-defined face. A beautiful woman befitting her dark blue kimono.

“Could you perhaps be Isshin-san?” asked the woman politely. “Yes,” replied Isshin.

“I’m Shizuko. Apologies for troubling you. Please come in—” Shizuko bowed respectfully. She had a dignified presence, with a warm smile on her face.

However, Haruka sensed something was amiss. Judging from the situation, the person who had been arguing with the man from earlier had to be Shizuko. Yet she could smile like this now. The drastic transformation felt unnatural.

Although Haruka didn’t immediately believe what the man had said, the word ‘murderer’ echoed within her mind still. Haruka had tagged along out of curiosity, yet now she couldn’t help but think she might have gotten herself involved with a dire circumstance.

Haruka’s body shivered at the thought— -

5 -

Gotou and the rest were led by Shizuko to a Japanese-style room that appeared to be the living room. Just like the exterior, the interior too felt aged, yet it gave the appearance of having been thoroughly cleaned regularly. Shizuko seemed to be surprisingly meticulous.

They were served tea and as the situation had calmed, Shizuko kneeled and bowed once more. “Thank you for coming all the way here.” “Not at all. Even if not by much, I thought I could be of some help,” replied Isshin with a friendly tone.

“Um...” said Shizuko hesitantly upon seeing the faces of everyone in the room. She likely hadn’t expected this many people to come. “Ahh, apologies for the late introduction. This is my nephew, and his friends.”

“I see, your nephew—” said Shizuko, peering at Yakumo. Whilst left unsaid, she was clearly questioning why his nephew had to come along as well.

“Truthfully, when it comes to spiritual phenomena, they’re more knowledgeable than me,” said Isshin, as he glanced at Yakumo. “Is that so...”

Shizuko continued to observe the faces of those present in the room. One couldn’t tell whether she actually believed Isshin’s explanation. “Either way, this sake factory sure is big,” Isshin said while nodding.

“No. This factory’s sole advantage lies in its old age...Since we couldn’t compete against major companies with mass-scale production, it hasn’t been doing well.” Shizuko shook her head listlessly.

“Even so, quantity can’t replace quality.” “I’d like to do that too, but we are facing a number of problems, so business isn’t running the way I wanted it to…” Shizuko began to ramble.

The sight from earlier reappeared in Gotou’s mind. He didn’t know the details, but there seemed to be no mistaking that this woman was dealing with some trouble. “Does that problem have anything to do with the man we encountered at the entrance?” asked Gotou, curious out of habit due to his line of work.

“Right. Since we fought that loudly, obviously we could be heard from outside. How embarrassing…” Shizuko smiled sadly before turning away. “Who was that man?”

Shizuko inhaled deeply before facing her guests, “He’s the son of the previous generation’s owner.” “The previous generation owner’s son? So he’s your sibling?” asked Gotou again.

Shizuko frowned with a troubled expression. “No, that’s not it. He and I are step-siblings.” “Step-siblings?”

“I…was adopted.” “Adopted?”

“I’m the illegitimate child of the previous generation owner—” said Shizuko, her head hung. Gotou finally understood why Shizuko had been talking in circles just now.

In other words, Shizuko was the child born to the mistress of the previous generation owner— “Is that so…”

“I used to live with my mother, just the two of us. Sometimes Father would come home, but even as a child, I understood that our family was different from your average family.” “You must have gone through a lot,” Isshin looked at Shizuko empathically.

Yet Shizuko merely displayed a glimpse of sorrow before she regained her dignified demeanour and continued her story. “When I was ten years old, my mother passed away from a heart attack. My grandparents also had already passed and since Mother had no relatives, I was going to be sent to an orphanage. However, the previous owner felt sympathy and decided to adopt me.”

“It must’ve caused a huge disagreement,” said Gotou spontaneously. “Yes. His legal wife was completely against it, but the previous owner was insistent and eventually I was brought here.”

So that was how it was. The situation was more complicated than what Gotou had originally thought.

While Shizuko had talked about it casually, she had to have had suffered as a child. When a parent passed away, relatives often fought over matters such as inheritance and the like. All the more so when the situation was complicated.

“That man—Kenzou-san—after graduating high school, he left home upon declaring that he refused to continue the family business.” “How irresponsible,” commented Gotou.

Shizuko shook her head. “My step-mother had just passed away at that time, so Kenzou-san must have had a lot in his mind as well.” “Sounds like a tough situation,” Isshin nodded.

That was all Isshin did, yet the gesture felt warm enough to melt away a frozen heart. “No. I didn’t do anything. I simply tried to make sake together with the previous owner.”

“Then, what business did that Kenzou, who was supposed to have left the family come here for?” asked Gotou. “When the previous owner died three months ago, Kenzou suddenly returned and stated that he was going to inherit this sake factory.”

“So that was why you two were arguing,” understood Gotou. Inheritance disputes that often occurred tend to end badly. Add in their complicated circumstances into the mix, and their situation was certainly even worse.

In times like this, everything could be resolved legally with the existence of a will. However, if one didn’t exist, things could escalate to the point of crime. “I truly apologise that all of you had to listen to such an unpleasant family story right upon your arrival,”

“No, no problem at all. Thank you for telling us,” said Isshin, bowing politely. Shizuko shook her head. “No, that’s...”

Gotou turned towards the window and noticed the large droplets of rain beginning to fall. “I think it’s about time we get into the main topic?” Yakumo began to speak after the previous topic had ended. He rubbed his eyes as if saying that the previous conversation was boring.

“Right…” said Shizuko with a serious expression. “Supposedly, the ghost came out of a painting…?” Yakumo peered at Shizuko.

“I didn’t see it come out of it. Only that I saw it seemingly disappear into the painting on the hanging parchment scroll,” answered Shizuko, slowly moving her vision as if visualising the event. “I see. May we take a look at the painting?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko nodded. “Of course.” The conversation progressed just like that, leaving Gotou unable to follow. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t been informed about what sort of spiritual phenomenon was happening in this house.

“What do you mean by painting?” with a small voice, Gotou asked Yakumo. Yakumo threw a mocking look. “So you don’t know anything.”

“You guys were the ones who dragged me with no explanation.” “Please tone it down. You’ll see eventually,” said Yakumo with a shrug.

The man seemed to have no intention in explaining things properly to Gotou. Well, perhaps like Yakumo had said, he would know once he saw it. “Let’s go. This way—”

Shizuko stood from where she had been sitting and ushered them to follow her out of the living room and walk along the corridor. The rain had progressed into a full-on downpour now. For those driving, this was troublesome weather.

They were led by Shizuko to enter a space two rooms ahead. A Japanese-style room the size of roughly six tatami, normally used as Shizuko’s bedroom. It was a simple room with nothing but a dresser. A few droplets could be seen on the tatami.

“That one—” said Shizuko, pointing towards the tokonoma[3]. There was a painting on the parchment scroll hanging over the wall.

“Wha—?!” Gotou exclaimed reflexively upon seeing the terrifying painting pointed by Shizuko. An ancient Japanese painting depicting a man in a white kimono, carrying a kongozue on his shoulder.

And— Both of the man’s eyes were bright red.

- 6

- Yakumo walked straight towards the painting hanging at the tokonoma.

Somehow, Haruka was the one who grew tense. Without saying a word, Yakumo bowed in front of the painting, observing it with a serious expression.

What could Yakumo be thinking about right now? Haruka tried to picture it, but she wouldn’t be able to arrive at the answer.

Both eyes of the model this painting was based on were red in colour. Perhaps the person depicted here had some kind of connection to Yakumo.

“I see—” mumbled Yakumo after staring at the painting for some time. “Did you find something?” asked Gotou enthusiastically.

However, Yakumo threw a cold gaze at Gotou. “No. Nothing at all—” “What’s with that? Getting people to expect something for no reason,” Gotou clicked his tongue.

“Gotou-san is the one who was expecting something all by yourself. Besides, you have no idea what’s happening here, don’t you?” “You were the one who didn’t explain anything!” said Gotou in anger.

Yet Yakumo appeared unfazed, instead further baiting Gotou’s temper. “Explaining to someone barbaric like Gotou-san is merely going to be a waste of time.” “What did you say?!”

Gotou grabbed Yakumo’s shirt by the collar. He seemed like he would hit Yakumo right then and there. “There, there,” said Haruka, mediating the two.

Gotou seemed like he still had more to say, but Haruka reminded him, “There’s no use taking Yakumo-kun’s words to heart,” to calm down his anger. “So, how was it?” Isshin asked Yakumo after the situation had calmed.

“How was what?” asked Yakumo back, acting clueless. “Is there a ghost here?”

Yakumo peered at Isshin, opening his mouth to say something. Right that instant—

A flash of bluish white light, followed by rumbling thunder moments later. After the lightning, the rain seemed to have gotten heavier.

Haruka turned towards the window, where large droplets of rainwater were hitting against the glass. “The rain sure is heavy. Hopefully there won’t be any landslides...” grumbled Gotou.

Yakumo laughed with a seemingly mocking tone. “You’re concerned over the wrong thing.” “What?”

“This sake factory is located next to a river. It’s not landslides that are a cause for concern, but the river overflowing.” Yakumo was right. Though annoyed, Gotou could only stay quiet.

“Are floods common around here?” asked Isshin. Shizuko shook her head. “This place is Takeda Shingen’s hometown, so it’s well prepared for flood damage.”

Hearing Shizuko’s answer made Haruka recall and said, “If I recall correctly, Takeda Shingen also put a lot of effort into flood prevention, right?” “So you knew about it too,” said Shizuko happily.

“Whatever, but the conversation’s getting sidetracked,” said Yakumo, yawning out of boredom. Right. They were supposed to be discussing the ghost and the hanging painting with red eyes, yet the topic somehow became flood prevention and Takeda Shingen.

“Anyway, to sort the information, how about we return to the room from earlier?” suggested Yakumo. Isshin and Gotou then decided to return to the living room, led by Shizuko. 

They left the room in succession.  However, when Haruka was about to follow the four of them, something cold slithered across her back. The sensation felt like a block of ice sliding down along her spine.

She stopped and turned around. Nobody was there.

Only the painting that they had been discussing earlier. Now wasn’t the time to space out here. She had to promptly go after the rest.

Haruka wanted to move her legs to leave that place and follow everyone else, yet for some reason she was unable to move. Even though she was able to draw in a breath, she couldn’t exhale it back out.

Why? As Haruka thought that, lightning struck once again.

Alongside the sound of thunder that arrived later, the room lights went out. Amidst the dark room, Haruka could see a portion of shadow thicker than the rest. Upon further observation, the figure appeared humanlike.

Its face wasn’t visible, as if painted over by black ink. And yet, its eyes stared at Haruka whilst emanating a fiery light. -

7 -

“So, was there a ghost?” asked Gotou to Yakumo as they walked along the corridor after leaving the room where the painting was hung. Yakumo stopped walking, but he didn’t utter a single word.

As he listened to the pouring rain, Gotou anticipated the words from Yakumo. It wasn’t just Gotou. Isshin, along with the sake factory manager as well as the client for this case, a woman named Shizuko, also stood without a word.

The painting that Gotou had just seen returned to his mind. The painting of a man clad in white kimono, shouldering a kongozue.

Gotou wasn’t one to appraise the arts. Despite that, he had sensed a strange aura from it. The main factor that had made him feel that way were the eyes of the man depicted in that painting.

His gaze might be sharp, yet his eyes were incredibly sad. Most importantly, both his eyes were red like a blazing flame. Gotou couldn’t help but relate it to Yakumo’s red left eye.

Had the person in that painting really existed, he might have had some kind of connection to Yakumo. Perhaps that connection could give them some information about the origins of Yakumo’s unique trait. Despite his indifferent act, Yakumo had to be curious about that fact as well.

“Oi, did you hear me?” said Gotou in frustration as Yakumo had yet to give a reply. “What an impatient bear,” Yakumo sighed with a fed up attitude.

“Who are you calling an impatient bear?” “Is there anyone else besides Gotou-san?”

“This brat...” “I still don’t know the details. It’s too early to draw a conclusion...” said Yakumo, laughing bitterly.

His manner of speech. Gotou recognised it all too well from years of knowing him. He was merely avoiding having to answer. “What are you saying? You can see ghosts. You should be able to tell whether a ghost was present or not there without having to think about it,” emphasised Gotou.

Yakumo snorted into a laugh. “Wow. Must be nice to be a simple-minded bear,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Judging by the attitude of the young man next to him, Gotou could tell that he already had some speculation. Even so, Yakumo wouldn’t open his mouth even when pressed further than this.

Gotou gave up and intended to walk ahead, but he stopped. “Huh? Where’s Haruka-chan?”

Haruka, who had been around earlier, was nowhere to be seen. Isshin too looked at his surroundings and said, “Now that you say that...”

“She’s slow, after all. Incredibly so,” said Yakumo partly in disbelief, turning his gaze back towards the sliding door. Perhaps she was still looking at the painting and didn’t realise everyone else had left. As Yakumo thought so, a bluish light flashed.

With the boom of a thunder, the light that had been illuminating the corridor went out. “Maybe the lightning struck an electrical pole,” said Isshin, looking at the lightbulb hanging over the corridor.

They could easily restore the power if it merely had been a blown fuse, but it would be much more troublesome if the lightning had struck an electrical pole as Isshin had said. It would take some time before the power could be restored.

Right now, they were still able to see although dim, but night time was soon approaching. Hopefully the power would be back before it got dark— “Aaaah!”

A deafening scream could be heard. They immediately recognised the owner of that voice.

Haruka— Partly in reflex, Gotou turned his heel and returned to the room where the hanging painting was located.

“Wha-?!” shouted Gotou spontaneously at the sight before him. Haruka had collapsed face down around the centre of the room.

Yakumo’s expression changed, and by the next second he was already running towards Haruka. “Oi! Hang in there!”

Now was not the time to stand bewildered. Gotou followed suit and ran to where Haruka had collapsed. From a brief glance, her breath and pulse appeared to be present.

Haruka seemed to have merely lost consciousness. At that moment, Gotou felt like he was being watched by someone and turned in the direction of the gaze.

Therein hung the problematic painting. The man in the white kimono stared intently at Gotou with his pair of red eyes.

Could a ghost have left the painting and attacked Haruka? — No, that’s impossible. Gotou discarded the wild thought that had emerged in his mind.

- 8

- Haruka gradually opened her eyelids—

Across her field of vision were boards of ceiling unfamiliar to her. Her head felt heavy and incapable of holding a thought.

“You’re awake?” a gentle voice asked. Haruka recognised that voice.

It was Isshin’s. Isshin observed Haruka’s face and smiled in relief.

“I...” Haruka slowly lifted her body to sit up. She felt a little dizzy.

Haruka rubbed her eyes and looked at her surroundings. A mattress was laid in the middle of a Japanese-style room the size of around six tatami. And she was on that mattress.

Aside from Isshin, Yakumo and Gotou were also present in the room. “Haruka-chan, are you alright?” asked Gotou, crouching next to her.

After Haruka responded with a nod, she turned towards Yakumo, who stood leaning against the wall. “Good grief. Not only are you a troublemaker, but you’re also making people panic.” Hands crossed, Yakumo frowned angrily.

Despite that, Haruka could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t genuinely angry. It turned out that Yakumo was worried about her. “Why am I here?“ asked Haruka.

“You don’t remember?” asked Yakumo back. While her vision had gotten clearer, her mind was still foggy that she couldn’t recall what had happened.

“After leaving the room, we realised that you weren’t with us when we were walking along the corridor. As we were just wondering what was up, we suddenly heard your scream and hurried back. We found you collapsed inside the room with the painting,” Isshin helped explain to a dumbfounded Haruka. However, his story came from the perspective of Isshin and the rest so Haruka still didn’t understand what had happened to her.

“Scream…collapsed…” mumbled Haruka. “Yes. You were passed out. Although only for a short while, about ten minutes or so,” said Isshin with a smile, as a light flashed from outside the window.

Thunder then followed and shook the window pane. As if responding to the fact, a piece of memory surfaced in Haruka’s mind.

“The ghost from the painting…” said Haruka, uttering the sight that came to her mind. “What?” said Gotou, eyes widened.

“I saw it. Before leaving the room, I sensed something and turned around. Then, I saw a black figure standing there...” “And then?” asked Isshin.

“I was so terrified I couldn’t move…” said Haruka, touching her forehead. Even though she hadn’t been able to recall anything earlier, her memories were now quickly returning.

“That was a ghost?” asked Gotou, demanding answers. “Maybe, I think so. The ghost was silent for a while, but the moment I tried to run, it suddenly attacked me...”

The harrowing moment returned so vividly into Haruka’s mind it made her shiver. “What happened afterwards?” Yakumo lowered his chin and stared at Haruka.

“I’m not sure how, but I was knocked away…and then...” said Haruka, starting to doubt. That was as far as her memories went. Before she knew it, she was already in this room.

“So a ghost really came out of the painting after all…?” said Gotou in a bitter tone whilst turning towards Yakumo. However, Yakumo appeared to be thinking about something. He placed his hand on his pointed chin and gave no answer.

“Yakumo-kun, this—” said Haruka when the sliding door opened. Shizuko entered the room. The woman brought a tray containing a wet towel for compress and a glass of water.

Upon seeing Haruka, already in a sitting position, she said “Thank goodness you’re now awake.” “Ah, yes.”

“Does it still hurt?” “A little, but it’s alright. Sorry for all the panic,” replied Haruka.

With an elegant gesture, Shizuko sat down whilst shaking her head. “Not at all. Rather, it seems you’re the one who got into danger because I requested your help...” she said, closing her eyes, looking as if she felt guilty. I wonder why?

Haruka felt something was odd with the woman’s face. Shizuko’s expression didn’t seem to be solely out of concern for Haruka. To her, Shizuko seemed to be living life whilst repressing a much bigger sadness.

“Sorry, may I ask you about one thing?” Isshin began to speak. “About what?” Shizuko lifted her head.

“Could you tell us the story behind the painting in that room?” asked Isshin. “Story? What do you mean?” Shizuko asked in return.

“I thought you might have a reason to deliberately hang that painting in your bedroom.” Isshin’s question made sense.

It was typical to display artworks such as flowers, butterflies or birds in one’s bedroom. Yet that painting was vastly different from the sort of artworks commonly used to decorate bedrooms. After thinking quietly for some time, Shizuko slowly began her story.

“According to the previous owner, his grandfather owed his life to the man in that painting—” “Owed his life...” Isshin responded before mumbling in awe.

“Yes. Apparently the previous owner’s grandfather had been disturbed by a strange spiritual phenomenon. Because of that, the business couldn’t operate well.” “Spiritual phenomenon—” said Haruka without realising.

Yakumo and Gotou exchanged glances as well. “Yes. I don’t know what happened exactly, but it was said his life had even been in danger.”

“Is that so,” responded Isshin. “At that time, he happened to meet a young painter and the man in that painting. Supposedly the person in that painting was a purification expert.”

“Purification expert?” asked Haruka. “Simply put, he’s some kind of spiritual medium.”

“The purification expert in the painting apparently managed to properly resolve the spiritual trouble. His business ran smoothly again ever since. The previous owner’s grandfather then put up that painting as a form of guardian spirit—” “Is that so,” Isshin nodded in understanding.

Shizuko stared intently at Isshin. Isshin’s left eye was red. That was because Isshin was wearing a red contact lens, but Shizuko, who didn’t know that, assumed he was born with that red eye and might be thinking that Isshin and the man in the painting had some kind of connection.

Haruka had the same feeling. From Shizuko’s story, the person in that painting had resolved a spiritual case. Perhaps he had been capable of doing it because his red eyes had been able to see spirits of the dead—ghosts—just like Yakumo.

Following that thought, the person in that painting might have been Yakumo’s ancestor. Haruka glanced at Yakumo and saw him forming a smile on his face.

What meaning could be behind that smile? Haruka wanted to ask, yet Yakumo had gone back to being serious and turned towards Shizuko again. “Could I also ask something?” requested Yakumo.

Shizuko replied, “Yes.” “I heard you are currently the one running this sake factory, but was that what the previous owner wanted?”

Hearing Yakumo’s question, Shizuko’s face instantly hardened and lost its colour. Haruka didn’t know why Yakumo asked that question.

After their conversation in the entrance, Shizuko had explained how there was an ongoing inheritance dispute between Kenzou, the legitimate son, and Shizuko, the adopted daughter. They hadn’t known whether that had anything to do with this spiritual phenomenon, and Kenzou’s words that had claimed, ‘That woman is a murderer’ couldn’t be ignored either.

Shizuko was frozen stiff with a tense expression for some time, before giving in and letting out a long sigh. “The previous owner said he was going to entrust this factory to me when he was alive.” Shizuko’s eyes were slightly tearful; perhaps she was reminiscing about that time.

“Did he leave a will or the like?” asked Yakumo. With her fingers, Shizuko pressed on the corner of her eye, inhaling back her snot before saying, “He didn’t leave a will or anything. I merely heard him say it.”

“Was Kenzou-san able to accept that fact?” interrupted Isshin. “No. Once the forty-nine days of mourning was over, Kenzou-san came and demanded that this place be handed over to him.”

“Is that so...” Isshin gave a look full of sympathy towards Shizuko. “Excuse me, but Kenzou-san said that you’re a murderer...” said Yakumo, staring at Shizuko with a challenging look.

Shizuko’s eyes widened in surprise, before sighing deeply again. “I’m no murderer. But Kenzou-san spread rumours that I killed the previous owner because I wanted this sake factory.”

So that was how it was. After Shizuko’s explanation, Haruka finally understood the meaning of the conversation with Kenzou.

“I’m the child of a mistress. If Kenzou-san wishes to inherit this factory, I could hand it over to him anytime, but...” said Shizuko who then covered her face. “But…why?” asked Isshin, urging her.

“Seems like Kenzou-san intends to close down the sake factory and sell this place. That’s why I can’t hand it over.” Haruka’s chest ached upon hearing Shizuko’s words.

Shizuko’s feelings about her origins were complicated. Perhaps somewhere within her heart, she was denying her own existence. As a result, she wasn’t able to find worth in her existence apart from protecting this sake factory. That was what Haruka felt.

However, Haruka didn’t think Shizuko should bear that responsibility. Even so, Haruka didn’t say that out loud.

She didn’t know how to convey it, and she felt that anything said by a youngster like her wouldn’t be able to touch Shizuko’s heart. “Is it really true that Kenzou-san wants to sell this place?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko’s face hardened momentarily. “Kenzou-san said he wanted to inherit this place, but I don’t trust him. He hasn’t returned to this house for so many years...” Shizuko’s words were filled with thorns.

Yet Haruka understood why she became that way. She may not know the details, but running a sake factory mustn’t be so easy that it was possible to take over overnight. If Kenzou, who had never come home until now, said he wanted to inherit the factory, one wouldn’t be able to trust him at all.

“May I ask one more thing?” said Yakumo, staring straight at Shizuko. “Yes.”

“If this sake factory were to be sold, what would the price be?” Shizuko scowled at Yakumo’s rude question, but she answered, “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’ll be much. To be honest, I can’t say business is going well. Especially ever since the previous owner passed away...”

Shizuko grew hesitant to continue. Come to think of it, Shizuko had already mentioned that business was bad as they hadn’t been able to keep up against larger companies.

Perhaps that was precisely why Kenzou wanted to quickly sell this place to obtain some money, even if not much. On the other hand, Shizuko wanted to protect this sake factory. Their line of thinking were polar opposites.

“I’ve understood the situation,” said Yakumo as he stood up, and exchanged glances with Isshin. Isshin responded and left the room with Yakumo. The two seemed to be discussing something.

“What are those two up to?” mumbled Gotou, voicing out what Haruka was thinking. Unfortunately, Haruka could only shake her head, saying, “No idea.”

Moments later, Yakumo and Isshin returned to the room. Haruka wanted to ask what they were up to, but Yakumo had begun speaking, “Gotou-san. Could you follow me for a while?” “Fine by me, but what for?”

“Come along and you’ll know,” said Yakumo before leaving the room again. Gotou sighed in dissatisfaction, but he eventually followed Yakumo out of the room.

“What were you guys talking about just now?” Haruka tried asking Isshin about it. “I wonder?” Isshin said with a smile as if he had nothing to do with it.

- 9

- Large droplets of rain bounced against the ground.

Despite using an umbrella, his legs were drenched in an instant. His shoulders were also soaking wet out of water that dripped from the umbrella. The rain really is heavy—

“Oi. Yakumo. What are we going to do?” Gotou called loudly—as to not get his voice drowned by the rain—towards Yakumo’s back. “Don’t you feel strange about it?” said Yakumo as he walked towards the back of the building.

“About what?” “Her testimony.”

By ‘her’, he was referring to Haruka. From his way of speaking, Yakumo seemed to be sensing something off from Haruka’s story.

However— “I don’t think Haruka-chan was lying.”

“I know that. She’s bad at lying, after all.” Well, Yakumo was right.

Haruka wasn’t the type to lie smoothly. “In that case, what was strange about it?”

“This is why I’ve been saying Gotou-san doesn’t cut it as a detective.” “What are you—!”

Gotou reached for Yakumo’s shoulders. “Do you really not know?”

“I’m asking because I don’t.” “What an incompetent bear.”

Yakumo made an exaggerated sigh. Truly an annoying bastard. Gotou wanted to raise his fist at him, but held himself back.

“Whatever you say. Rather than that, what’s strange about it?” “If her testimony was correct, then the incident had gone against my theory.”

That one sentence made Gotou realise what Yakumo was suspicious of. Based on his personal experience of seeing ghosts through his red left eye, Yakumo defined ghosts as clusters of emotions of the departed, incapable of physical influence.

Having been involved in a number of cases with Yakumo, Gotou too believed in his theory. And yet—

This time, Haruka claimed she had been attacked by a ghost and had gotten knocked over. “But if Haruka wasn’t lying, then her story wouldn’t add up.”

“That’s where the problem is—”  Yakumo stopped his steps and turned around.

“You have a suspicion in mind?” “Gotou-san, you really didn’t notice anything?”

“Huh?” “I’m asking, did you not realise anything after looking at the scene?” said Yakumo impatiently.

Gotou tried to jog his memory of the scene, yet he didn’t understand what Yakumo was trying to say. “Was there something strange about it?”

As soon as Gotou said that, Yakumo shook his head in disbelief. “Do you have holes for eyes?” “What did you say?!”

“Judging from the situation, there is only one possibility.” Yakumo’s way of speaking—it was as if he had known everything about this case.

“If you already knew, then tell me.” “I refuse,” said Yakumo, turning his face away.

“You little—” Gotou approached closer in anger, but Yakumo ignored him and walked away.

How irritating. Knowing Yakumo, he’d close his mouth shut like a clamshell and give no answer no matter how much Gotou made a fuss. Gotou gave up and followed after him.

As they reached the vicinity of a wall facing the room where Haruka had collapsed, Yakumo crouched and began observing something. “What are you looking at?”

“I thought there would be some evidence left behind, but this rain has proven it difficult…” Yakumo replied with a sour face. “Evidence? Evidence of what?”

“After everything that I’ve explained, do you still not know?” “I—told—you...I’m asking because I don’t.”

“Please don’t be proud of your own incompetence.” Yakumo stood up and threw a condescending look in Gotou’s direction.

He’s making a fool out of me! “Cut it out and tell me already!” Gotou retorted, clicking his tongue from annoyance.

Yakumo faintly smiled. “Then, here’s the hint.” Hint? What is this, a quiz?

Gotou felt irritated as Yakumo tried to test him, but tried to hold back. “Think about it with my ghost theory as a basis. If she really was attacked by a ghost, then there was something very unnatural in that room.”

“Ah!” Gotou exclaimed spontaneously. So that was how it was—Gotou had only realised now. It was pathetic of him, having not realised such a thing. No wonder he had gotten mocked for having holes for eyes.

“That means, at the scene…” Gotou swallowed his sentence midway. He felt the eyes of someone staring at them.

Gotou quickly scanned his surroundings. There!

He saw someone standing around ten metres away from their location. That person was hiding behind a building, gazing intently at them. Had it not for the umbrella, perhaps Gotou wouldn’t have noticed.

“Gotou-san,” said Yakumo, signalling through his eyes. Even without Yakumo asking, Gotou walked straight in that man’s direction.

In response to Gotou approaching him, the man began stepping backwards. Eventually, he turned his back against Gotou and hurriedly ran away. “Oi!” called Gotou.

The man jolted and stopped. “What are you doing at a place like this?” asked Gotou, when the man discarded his umbrella and ran as fast as he could.

Dammit! “Wait!”

Gotou discarded his umbrella as well, kicked against the ground, and ran in pursuit. Droplets of rain hit his face until his eyesight turned into a blur.

Despite that, Gotou didn’t lose speed one bit. He ran with all his strength after that man’s back. Luckily, the man’s legs weren’t too swift. If this continued, he would soon catch up with him.

Even so, Gotou couldn’t let his guard down. He wasn’t familiar with the area. If the man were to run into an alley, there was a high chance he’d lose him. He had to catch him soon.

Gotou roared as he picked up his pace and lunged at the man’s waist. They fell down whilst entangled together.

“P-please stop! What did I even do?” the man yelled whilst struggling. When Gotou reached for his arms and pinned him, the man relaxed as resistance became futile.

Seeing the man’s face, Gotou exclaimed, “Eh? Who are you?” pouting his lips without realising. He only just saw the man’s face for the first time. He had thought that this man was Kenzou, so he felt disappointed.

The man had a slim face with silver framed glasses. His timid expression was similar to that of Ishii, Gotou’s partner. “What on earth is this about…?” said the man with a trembling voice.

When asked that way, Gotou had trouble answering. Gotou himself had chased after him without a clear reasoning. “Because you ran,” urged Gotou, knowing full well he was simply making excuses.

“Even if you say that, I was suddenly chased after all,” the man said, looking at Gotou in fear. Putting it that way made Gotou appear to be the one to blame.

“Didn’t you run away out of guilt?” “N-no.”

“What do you mean no?” “Fair enough. Anyone would have run away if they were suddenly chased by this bearlike man,” Yakumo said nonchalantly as he walked over.

Gotou felt incredibly annoyed at the sight of Yakumo casually walking over, seemingly arrogant with an umbrella, whilst Gotou himself was drenched. “What kind of comment was that?”

“Nevermind that, please let go of that man right away,” said Yakumo as he ran a hand across his messy hair. “You sure?”

Though unspoken, Yakumo had signalled with his eyes for Gotou to chase after this man, right? “Yes. No problem at all.” replied Yakumo, shrugging.

Gotou wasn’t satisfied with his explanation, but he eventually let go of the man. “Are you alright?” said Yakumo, extending a hand towards him.

Despite his dumbfounded look, the man reached out for Yakumo’s hand and stood up. He was even more drenched than Gotou as he had fallen onto the ground. “Apologies for the suddenness, but may we ask you a few questions?” asked Yakumo politely.

The man closed his eyes as if in defeat. -

10 -

“How about we go and take a look at the painting in that room once again?” suggested Isshin. Scary.

Haruka genuinely felt so. Having gone through what had happened to her, she didn’t want to go see that painting again.

But this case wouldn’t get resolved by staying put, and she felt bad if she were to do nothing until Yakumo and Gotou return. Perhaps they might discover something by making use of this time to reexamine the painting.

“Right. Let’s go,” replied Haruka, holding back her fear. Shizuko too replied, “Understood,” and the three decided to visit the room with the painting once again.

The power hadn’t returned, so the interior of the room felt like it was swallowed by darkness. The problematic painting hung eerily amidst the dark room.

Imprinted on the old parchment, the pair of red eyes were wide open as if conveying a message that transcends time. “Now—let us begin,” said Isshin, rubbing his hands together.

“Begin—there’s something you want to do here?” asked Haruka. Isshin smiled. “Yes.”

“Do what?” “Following Yakumo’s style, you could say it’s time to solve a mystery.”

“Solve a mystery?” Hearing the unexpected words coming from Isshin’s mouth, Haruka was left agape.

To solve a mystery meant Isshin had already known the truth behind this case. “Well, the mystery I meant isn’t a big deal to solve,” said Isshin, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

Someone mature like Isshin suddenly appeared childlike. This gap was perhaps part of his charm. Even so, whether Isshin could actually solve the mystery was another story.

“Is it really alright?” said Haruka spontaneously. “Well, I feel like I could handle a mystery of this level,” said Isshin casually.

“I-is that so?” “Firstly, there are a few things that need to be clarified,” said Isshin, facing Shizuko.

Haruka felt that movement of his was similar to that of Yakumo’s. “About what?”

“Shizuko-san. Since when was this painting in this room?” asked Isshin as he pointed at the painting. “Before the previous owner passed away, this painting had been in his room. After he had passed, the painting was relocated to my room.”

“I see. Did you hear anything about a ghost coming out of the painting from the previous owner?” “Never.”

Satisfied with Shizuko’s reply, Isshin nodded, “Hm.” “There’s something I’d like to ask Haruka-chan as well,” continued Isshin, now turning towards Haruka.

“About what?” “Did the ghost you saw have red eyes?”

Upon Isshin’s question, Haruka began searching through her memories. The black shadow vividly flashed into her mind, it made her shiver. At the same time, she found the answer to Isshin’s question. Her chest began to pound.

“No.” The pair of eyes that had stared intensely at Haruka might have felt terrifying, but now that she recalled, those eyes hadn’t been red.

“How about the clothing?” “I couldn’t remember clearly...but I think the ghost was wearing a dark blue kimono.”

“Not white?” “Yes,” replied Haruka.

Isshin nodded firmly. “In other words, the ghost had nothing to do with this painting,” he said, touching his chin. “Right,” Haruka responded in agreement.

During Isshin’s explanation, she had also arrived at that possibility. She had been confused and had said that the ghost had come out of the painting, but thinking about it calmly like this, the painting and the ghost were likely two separate things.

“When the ghost appeared before Haruka-chan, did they say anything to you?” “No, not at all...” Haruka shook her head.

Yakumo might be able to get information from the ghost, but Haruka couldn’t. It felt frustrating. “Even if they didn’t say anything, did they appear to be attempting to convey something?” Isshin threw yet another question.

“Attempting to convey...” “Yes. Such as through expression, movement, anything.”

“Expression…movement…” said Haruka as she retraced her thoughts. Was there something—At first, Haruka couldn’t think of anything. However, it was as if something suddenly clicked.

“Looks like you recalled something,” Isshin narrowed his eyes from reading Haruka’s expression. “Yes. Their hand was pointing like this.”

Haruka lifted her arm parallel to her chest as she pictured the sight from back then. Her finger pointed towards the painting on the wall. “So this painting really was—” mumbled Isshin.

“Did you get something?” asked Haruka. The corners of Isshin’s mouth lifted into laughter. “If my instinct was right, the ghost Haruka saw hadn’t come out of the painting, but instead wanted the painting to be seen.”

“What do you mean?” “Most likely, the ghost that appeared in this room was the ghost of the previous owner. I think the previous owner wanted Shizuko-san to look at this painting.”

Isshin’s line of thinking sounded logical and made sense. And yet, there was still one thing Haruka didn’t understand.

“Why did he want her to see the painting?” Even without being asked, Shizuko used this room every day, so she would see the painting whether she wanted to or not.

“What he was trying to show was not the painting itself, but something hidden in that painting,” said Isshin as he took down the painting’s parchment scroll and placed it on the tatami before closely observing it. “What’s being hidden here?” asked Haruka, looking at the painting.

“Look over here—” said Isshin, pointing at the bottom right corner of the painting. Haruka glanced to find that the area pointed by Isshin was slightly folded. The paper of the painting also appeared to have peeled off from the parchment scroll.

“This...” muttered Haruka. Isshin nodded firmly. “Yes. Most likely, this painting had been removed from the scroll before, and then reattached.”

“But why do something like that?” “Rather than explaining, it’d be easier if we confirm it. Shizuko-san, may I?” Isshin asked, requesting permission.

Shizuko went silent for some time from hesitation, before eventually replied, “Yes, go ahead.” Isshin carefully peeled the painting away from the parchment scroll to avoid tearing it.

After it was completely removed, Haruka spontaneously said, “This...” An envelope was tucked between the parchment scroll and the painting paper.

Isshin took the envelope and handed it to Shizuko. “Here you go.” Shizuko accepted it, but she didn’t check the contents straight away. Instead, she threw a dumbfounded look at Isshin.

Even without saying, Haruka knew the woman must be wondering why something like this could be in such a place. “Most likely, the one who hid that envelope here was the previous owner.”

Hearing Isshin’s explanation made Shizuko’s expression turn serious. “The previous owner? Why so?” asked Shizuko.

Isshin made a melancholic expression. “I think he wanted you to see it.” “Me?”

“Yes. Inside it is probably a will.” said Isshin blatantly. Haruka stared at Isshin in awe.

When Isshin had said he was going to solve the mystery, Haruka had equally believed and doubted him. No, rather, she had thought it would have been impossible for him. However, Isshin managed to deduce that the ghost had been trying to inform the location of the will and located it based on what little information he had obtained from Haruka and Shizuko.

As expected of Yakumo’s uncle. No, Isshin couldn’t even see ghosts. And yet, he managed to reveal the truth this far, so perhaps he was even more superior than Yakumo.

“You heard it, right? How about you come out now?” Isshin said suddenly, as if talking to someone. Who is he talking to?

As Haruka was wondering, Isshin continued, “It must be stifling, hiding in a place like that.” Isshin spoke even louder than before.

His gaze was aimed at the closet. Could there be someone inside?

There was no reply, the closet door remained closed, and they could only hear the sound of pouring rain. Haruka could only remain quiet and observe what would happen. Shizuko stared at the closet as well, stiff as a stone.

“You’d like to know the contents of the will too, right? That’s why you’re trapped, hiding yourself in there. What do you think? Don’t you want to confirm the contents together?” said Isshin for the third time in the direction of the closet. There was no response for some time, but the closet door eventually slid open.

A man emerged from inside. His entire body was drenched, and water dripped down from his hair. Haruka had seen him before. That person was—

“Kenzou-san,” said Shizuko in surprise. “Why is he here?” Haruka looked at Isshin, demanding for an answer.

Isshin appeared to have known all along that Kenzou had been hiding inside the closet. Therefore, he had to have known the reason why he had done so as well. “Simple enough. Following the water spots that formed on the tatami, we could clearly tell someone was hiding there,” Isshin explained as he pointed at the water spots on the tatami.

They may seem to be water that had fallen randomly at first glance, but after Isshin’s explanation, Haruka realised that the spots were directed towards the closet. “Furthermore, from Haruka-chan’s story, it became obvious that someone else had been in the room aside from us,” continued Isshin.

“W-what do you mean?” asked Haruka, and Isshin smiled. “Haruka-chan, you said that you had been attacked by a ghost.”

“Yes.” “That was unnatural.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Haruka denied vehemently. Isshin shook his head. “I wasn’t accusing you of lying. But try to remember the theory Yakumo always said.”

Isshin’s words made Haruka come into a realisation. Right. Yakumo had always said that ghosts were clusters of emotions of the dead, with no capacity for physical influence.

In other words, even if Haruka were to encounter a ghost, the ghost wouldn’t be able to put Haruka in harm’s way. Despite having understood that, Haruka wasn’t entirely satisfied. Because—

“What I saw was clearly a ghost.” Haruka thought she was about to get refuted, but Isshin immediately agreed. “Yes.”

Haruka became confused. “Haruka-chan, you did see a ghost. There was no mistaking that. However, that ghost and the one who attacked you are different people.”

“Different people?” “You should be able to deduce it by now. It more or less went like this—” said Isshin as he began his explanation.

Based on Isshin’s explanation, after encountering Haruka and the others at the entrance, Kenzou hadn’t left. He had opened the window from outside and had entered this room. He had thought Shizuko wouldn’t return to her room until her guests had left.

And yet, Yakumo and the rest had gone inside to see the painting. Kenzou had hurriedly escaped into the closet to hide.

Moments later, lightning had struck and the room became pitch black. Unaware of the situation, Kenzou thought everyone had left the room and he had gone out of the closet. Not noticing Haruka, still standing frozen inside the room from seeing the ghost. Kenzou had spontaneously pushed Haruka and she had screamed. Hearing footsteps of everyone returning to the room, Kenzou once again had quickly hid inside the closet.

Then, because the figure of the ghost Haruka had seen had overlapped with Kenzou’s figure, Haruka had thought she had been attacked by a ghost. Despite his calm tone, Isshin’s words were sharp.

Haruka was impressed after witnessing a new side of Isshin capable of analysing brilliantly. Yet thinking about it calmly, there was still a point she didn’t understand.

“Why didn’t Kenzou-san escape from the house after pushing me?“ After Haruka had collapsed, she had been relocated to the neighbouring room and everyone had left the room where Kenzou had hid. The man should have had the opportunity to escape from the room then.

“He couldn’t escape.” “Eh?”

“He couldn’t leave from the entrance. It would spell trouble if he were to be discovered. He could’ve gone out from the window, but he must’ve been confused from panic and was unable to think straight.” Haruka could accept that theory, yet there was another thing she didn’t understand.

“Why did Kenzou-san snoop into the house?” Upon Haruka’s question, Isshin turned to look at the will held by Shizuko.

“I see. So Kenzou-san secretly went inside the house to search for the will,” said Haruka. Isshin nodded firmly. “Yes. Kenzou-san, thinking the will’s contents were against his wishes, attempted to search for the will and steal it.”

“Why does he need to steal it?” asked Haruka. Isshin closed his eyes sadly. “What if, the contents of the will dictates that the rights to the sake factory are to be exclusively handed over to Shizuko-san?”

Hearing Isshin’s explanation made Haruka understand. Kenzou must not have wanted everything to be snatched by Shizuko.

Not to mention Shizuko had seemed to be unaware of the existence of a will, so he had wanted to find it first and steal it, such that the inheritance could be dealt with by law and split across his descendants. While that wouldn’t make him receive everything, at least he would get a portion of it.

“I’m not handing over this sake factory to you,” said Shizuko firmly. Her eyes were filled with resolution. Yet they hinted at sadness at the same time. 

What was with that glint in her eyes? “Stop joking! What do you know about what I had to go through because of you?” cursed Kenzou.

“You went about as you pleased and ran away from home because you didn’t want to inherit this sake factory. So why now—” Shizuko glared at Kenzou. “What are you saying? I left because you were there! Father was always looking after you, that he wasn’t acknowledging me at all!”

“You’re wrong!” “What am I wrong about?”

“The previous owner really wanted you to be the one to inherit the factory, not me...” Tears pooled in Shizuko’s eyes.

“Impossible!” “It’s true. When he was still alive, the previous owner said if Kenzou returns, then I’m free to live as I like…” Shizuko said with tears rolling down her cheek.

What cruel words. Haruka felt like her chest was being stabbed. It was as if the previous owner had said that Shizuko was merely Kenzou’s replacement and nothing more. To Shizuko, who had low self-esteem from being the daughter of a mistress, that must have torn her heart apart.

“But you never returned until the previous owner passed. That’s why I swore to protect this place,” said Shizuko, clutching the will against her chest. From Haruka’s eyes, it was as if Shizuko was holding back pain.

“Don’t mess with me! It’s too late for that!” Kenzou lifted his fist to strike at Shizuko.

“Watch out!” Haruka screamed with all her might. Kenzou’s punch went in Shizuko’s direction, but it hadn’t hit her.

Something launched into the room with incredible speed, pushed Kenzo until he fell, pinning him against the tatami. That something turned out to be Gotou.

“Looks like you guys are safe,” Gotou, who was soaking wet, said in satisfaction. “Good grief. So Uncle wasn’t able to close it up properly,”

Grumbling as he entered the room was Yakumo— -

11 -

“Yakumo-kun!” Haruka exclaimed in relief. She had briefly wondered what might happen as Kenzou attacked Shizuko. But since Gotou had him held down, one problem was out of the way.

“My apologies, but the two of you will have to follow along with me for a little more,” said Yakumo, throwing a gaze at Shizuko and Kenzou. He spoke as if the case wasn’t over yet, even though the full story of the case had become clear. What did Yakumo intend to do?

As Haruka was lost in her thoughts, Yakumo walked towards the centre of the room and clapped. From that alone, Yakumo managed to seize the entire atmosphere of the room, despite his recent arrival.

With bated breath, Haruka watched him intently. “The goal and motive behind Kenzou-san hiding in the closet is mostly as Uncle explained.”

Haruka grew puzzled from Yakumo’s explanation. “Don’t tell me, you heard?”

“From the middle,” said Yakumo nonchalantly. “Then why didn’t you come right away?”

“I wanted Uncle to take the spotlight. Well, the closure was lacking, though.” “Don’t say that. I’m not used to it,” said Isshin, touching his head with a troubled gesture.

“The closure was lacking? What do you mean by that?” Yakumo had said something similar as he had entered the room. Haruka didn’t understand what that line was referring to.

“Kenzou-san has no intention to sell this sake factory,” said Isshin. “What, so Uncle already knew,” said Yakumo in disbelief as he messed with his dishevelled hair.

“What do you mean?” asked Haruka, leaning her body forward. From Shizuko’s story, Kenzou had left home after graduating high school as he had been unwilling to inherit the family sake factory—

“Exactly as said. Kenzou-san has never once thought about selling this sake factory for the money.” “What are you saying? This person...” denied Shizuko immediately, but Yakumo interrupted her.

“I understand your feelings. However, you’re mistaken. Isn’t that right, Kenzou-san?” Lying on his stomach, Kenzou bit his lower lip. “I hated Shizuko. Ever since she arrived, Father only paid attention to her and never acknowledged me even if just a little. That was why I ran away from home.”

With tear filled eyes, Kenzou continued, “For the first few years, I wandered aimlessly whilst working part-time to put food on the table. Eventually I felt that I shouldn’t keep on going like that and began working at a sake factory in Tokyo. I studied there in hopes that someday Father would acknowledge me…” “Lies...you never said anything about that. Besides, if that was true, you should’ve told that to the previous owner.” Shizuko responded, criticising him.

“He couldn’t tell him. Kenzou-san intended to return after studying business management and acquiring sufficient knowledge to be acknowledged by his father,” Yakumo explained. “Eh?” exclaimed Shizuko.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t make it in time. The previous owner passed and Shizuko-san took over the place,” ended Yakumo. “In the end, Shizuko inherited this place. Father never cared about me to the end...” Kenzou said with trembling fists.

“Is that really the case?” mumbled Yakumo. “That’s why Father entrusted this factory to Shizuko, right?” said Kenzou, glaring at Yakumo.

Yakumo accepted his gaze head-on and went silent for a while before turning towards Shizuko. “Shizuko-san. Please check the contents of the will,” he said.

Despite appearing confused, Shizuko then took the will out of the envelope and read the contents. Shizuko’s face instantly hardened, before falling to her knees on the tatami.

The contents appeared to not be what Shizuko had expected. “What was written there?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko lifted her face with lifeless eyes. “Assets such as cash and bank accounts are given entirely to me—” said Shizuko in a hoarse voice. “That was why you had Father die. After all, you were aiming for the assets...”

“Wrong! The previous owner had a heart disease. Since before Kenzou-san even left...but he didn’t say anything.” “What did you say!?” Kenzou yelled in anger, only for Gotou to hold him back. “Be quiet.”

“What else was written in the will?” asked Yakumo, urging her to continue. “All rights concerning the sake factory are given to Kenzou—”

Shizuko’s voice trembled. All this time, Shizuko had fought to protect her family’s sake factory. And yet, the sake factory was about to become Kenzou’s.

Surely she felt unwilling to accept that fact. As it turned out, Kenzou hadn’t expected the contents of the will either. “Really?” he said, voice filled with confusion.

“How cruel. Even though Shizuko-san has been protecting the sake factory all this time...” “You’re mistaken,” Yakumo blatantly denied Haruka’s words.

“What do you mean?” “Shizuko-san, the truth is, you actually feel relieved, right?” said Yakumo towards Shizuko.

“What are you saying?” “At the very least, the previous owner was aware of your low self-esteem and feeling of inferiority caused by your origins.”

“I...” “That was why the previous owner had paid more attention to you from the start. He must’ve felt guilty that the inferior feeling within you had been caused by him.”

“But...” “Though illegitimate, to the previous owner, you were still his child. So he suffered having to watch you help out the business just to find some worth in your existence.”

“That’s impossible...” “Do you know why the previous owner wrote the will to hand over the sake factory to Kenzou-san?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko shook her head. “He knows about him...”

As if signalled by Yakumo’s words, a man entered the room. Despite being drenched head to toe from the rain, the man appeared lean and intelligent looking.

“Kazuo-san—” said Shizuko spontaneously. “Shizuko-san…I’m sorry. I can’t give up no matter what...” said the man called Kazuo with his head hung.

The sudden development made Haruka unable to understand the situation. “What’s going on?” asked Haruka.

Yakumo sighed and began his explanation. According to him, Kazuo was a banker in charge of the bank loan lent to the sake factory. After a few visits, he fell in love with Shizuko.

However, recently, it had been decided that Kazuo’s employment was going to be transferred. Because of that, he had proposed to Shizuko, to which she had rejected. The reason had been obvious.

If she were to marry Kazuo, she would have to be willing to follow him to his location of transfer. In doing so, she wouldn’t be able to protect the sake factory. “Don’t tell me, the previous owner had been aware of this, that’s why he intended to hand over rights to the sake factory to Kenzou-san so they could move forward with the marriage?” said Haruka.

“Correct. He thought eventually the day would come to set free Shizuko-san, who had tried to inherit the sake factory due to her feelings of inferiority. Luckily, Kenzou-san had intentions to take over the sake factory as well. In reality, the previous owner had wanted to express his intentions directly. Unfortunately, he passed away before he had the chance to do so. That was why he tried to convey his wishes by showing the location of the will he had hidden just in case.” Haruka understood after Yakumo’s explanation.

The situation wouldn’t have gotten this complicated if only they all had expressed their feelings honestly, but such was often not the case within families. Hence, inheritance disputes became a common occurrence.

“You’re joking with me. In the end, everything was for Shizuko’s sake. I was never acknowledged…” said Kenzou with a bitter look on his face. Tears fell from his eyes. Kenzou had practically decided to leave home because his father hadn’t acknowledged his existence. The fact that he was going to receive the sake factory in order to set Shizuko free—surely he couldn’t accept it.

“You misunderstood,” said Yakumo firmly. “What do you even know?”

Kenzou threw a challenging look at Yakumo. “To the previous owner, both you and Shizuko-san were his own flesh and blood. Not just Shizuko-san, you were both dear to him.”

“If so, then why didn’t Father look my way?” “He looked at you and watched over you closely. Did you think the previous owner decided to have you inherit the sake factory with no basis?”

“Eh?” “The previous owner often visited the place where you were studying sake brewery.”

“No way...” “Even in the sake production industry there are connections and acquaintances. The previous owner and the owner of the place you studied at were old friends. He frequently came by, but merely observed without reaching out to you to be considerate of the goal you were aiming for.”

“How did you know all those things?” asked Kenzou, voice trembling from emotion. “I asked the previous owner about it. His ghost is over there at this moment. You can see him too, don’t you?”

Yakumo pointed at the spot where the painting used to hang. While faint, Haruka could make out a dark shadow over there. Kenzou should be able to see it too. He kneeled down and sobbed loudly.

Kenzou and Shizuko, siblings from separate mothers. Various misunderstandings had occurred due to their complicated family circumstances, but they finally discovered the intentions of the previous owner. After this, they could slowly talk it over between the two of them.

Haruka stared at the painting laid atop of the tatami. The pair of red eyes appeared to be hinting at a gentle ray of light—

- 12

- “Hey, do you think that painting was of your ancestor, Yakumo-kun?” asked Haruka once they had returned to the car.

Apparently, the man with red eyes in that painting had been a purification expert. When Haruka had seen the painting for the first time, she couldn’t help it that the man with two red eyes—Yakumo’s father—had flashed into her mind. Even so, from what she had heard, supposedly the man in the painting had used his ability for the sake of others.

Just like Yakumo right now— “Who knows. I don’t know the details. Just that—” said Yakumo, turning to look beyond the window, where pouring rain continued still.

“Just that what?” “If that person’s eyes were both red and could see spirits, his life must’ve been much more difficult than the life I’ve led in the present.”

“Yeah...” What Yakumo said was right.

Right now, Yakumo was hiding the colour of his eye with black contact lens, but there was no such thing back in the Edo period. Discrimination at the time had to have been worse as well. The man in white kimono had to have lived in suffering from the odd and disgusted looks from other people.

“And yet, that person worked as a purification expert—” “Right.”

“He must’ve had an incredible amount of resolve. No, perhaps...” said Yakumo before muttering under his breath. “What?”

Haruka wanted to ask, but Yakumo evaded by saying, “Nevermind,” and said nothing further. Haruka had no idea what Yakumo could be thinking of at that moment.

Even so, after having encountered that painting, she felt that a peculiar fate had unravelled. “Anyway, the case is over. Let’s head back quickly,” said Yakumo whilst leaning against the car seat.

Gotou, who sat in the driver’s seat, and Isshin, who was in the passenger seat, turned their backs simultaneously. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be possible to head back,” said Isshin with an unusually troubled look.

“Not possible?” asked Yakumo, lifting his left eyebrow. “The roads are closed due to a landslide at the Chuo expressway,” Gotou sighed.

“It appears that we have no choice but to find somewhere to stay overnight,” Isshin continued. Having suspected the situation, Yakumo exhaled a long sigh—

- Translation Notes

[1] To be more specific, he was being compared to Bodhisattva Maitreya. [2] Kongozue (金剛杖), a type of pilgrim’s staff made of wood, with a square or octagonal cross section, most notably used for the Shikoku Pilgrimage. 

[3] Tokonoma (床の間), a raised area in a Japanese-style room where artworks and important items are displayed.

[transmutationisms]

Hi do you have any brainy thoughts on the disney movie inside out (and the sequel). My family and i went to go see inside out 2 today and i kind of hate it. Theres something about presenting an office, its warehouse and all the associated mechanisms as the objective truth of our minds that i dont especially like, but i dont really care about that ultimately. But what i do hate is the idea that we all feel the exact same emotions which can each be neatly identified and delineated, to the point that they act as entirely separate people in our heads. People who dress and look the same no matter who you as an individual are outside of extremely surface level changes (maybe). But I'm having a hard time articulating precisely what I dont like about it. In your studies have you read about like ... the taxonomy of emotions or sensations ? Many therapists value the idea of each emotion being readily identifiable with a name. They have charts about it. It feels all in service of an understanding of ourselves rooted in flawed psychological frameworks. One in which the literal "mood disorder" exists

congrats on the only disney anon i would probably ever answer. yeah i saw the first inside out in like 2018 or 19 really stoned and this also pissed me off. in general when people start trying to present living things in really tidy taxonomical schemata i am immediately suspicious; what's being done is not 'reading' this or that out of nature but actively interpreting a phenomenon according to some set of predetermined rules or distinctions. in psychology this especially gained popularity toward the end of the 18th century and into the 19th: the notion of discrete brain 'functions' was the foundational assumption of phrenologists, and also intimately tied up with the idea that 'emotions' / affective states could be neatly distinguished, delineated, named, and ordered.

it's a really curious sort of dualism that ends up taking hold, esp in much of the anglo and german literature, where you the subject are configured as, on the one hand, a conscious experience resulting from your material brain, and yet, on the other hand, distinct enough from that very brain to experience a kind of dysphoric disjunction from its operations. in inside out, this is dramatised quite literally, as a conflict between the protagonist and the independent entities that 'are' her emotions (where the medium even allows each to be protrayed by a different actor!)---a better work might interrogate this schizophrenic conception of selfhood and ask, for instance, if such a portrayal of a split self is intended to resonate with many people's everyday experience, what is it that distinguishes the 'pathologically' fractured consciousness, and what does this suggest about what's at stake for those who seek to understand affective experience by naming and categorising it...?

& i do also find the warehouse metaphor odious haha. such a throwaway choice on the part of the filmmakers, but one that really speaks to both a failure of imagination (all forms of social organising must be one that i am already familiar with, even in a fully fictional and animated story) and a somewhat disturbing conception of human interiority (i would argue there's a continuity here from using the labourer-owner metaphor in a dramatisation of the mind, to broader attitudes about human dominion over 'nature').

[oneatlatime]

The Guru

Happy 2024 everyone and welcome to the first time I managed to type 2024 without first typing 2023! Oh and also a write up of The Guru. That too.

Me too Iroh. Me too.

So Zuko is riding high on that post-crisis 'time to get my life together' buzz that, similar to 3 am life plans, should absolutely not be listened to. Wonder how long before he crashes and burns? There's literally 2 episodes left, so I'm guessing one and a half?

Poor Sokka. My boy's got anxiety.

I don't know if it's a monk thing, an airbender thing, an Avatar thing, or an Aang thing, but I envy his complete lack of nerves.

How is Appa ok with them splitting up for a week after JUST getting them back?

I paused in a funny place. Have bonk-eyed Appa.

I love them comparing heights. What do you want to bet that that guy on the right was one of the youngest allowed to go fight, and Sokka made a big deal about how they're almost the same age and surely that means he can go too, right?

A lot of these Southern Water Tribe people have dreads or braids. That's neat.

Bato's arm is still messed up. That's some good continuity.

I've found the source of Katara's cheek bones. I guess Sokka takes after his mum.

Ok I know this is a really emotional moment (and it is! Sokka's spent two seasons earning this!) but my brain fixated on the furs and briefly thought they were sky bison pelts.

"It's been a difficult week for me." This guy thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are there to provide him therapy. Someone please just crown the bear instead.

He just gave away literally every relevant plot point AND outlined how to make sure all these plot points don't succeed. Crown. The. Bear.

Maybe if these generals spent less time playing with their giant model Earth Kingdom and more time general-ing, the war wouldn't suck so much?

Pretty.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the designs, the colour palette, the music, the sound design of this air temple. I love everything about it. If I had the chance to live anywhere in the Avatar universe, it would be here. Even in its ruined state it's such a refreshing contrast to the claustrophobia of Ba Sing Se. I can feel the freshness of the breeze through the screen.

"A spiritual brother of your people" an adult perspective on a near extinct culture! What a resource!

"and a personal friend of Monk Gyatso" an old as balls perspective. He's got to be at least 130.

Anthropology cul de sac time: this guy is so valuable as a resource on the Air Nomads. There's probably parts of Air Nomad culture that Aang can't ever accurately talk about, because he was a kid when he left, and there was almost certainly stuff that the adults kept to themselves, or only shared with the older Air Nomads. This Guru doesn't seem to be an Air Nomad himself, but there's a good chance that there is knowledge that he has, that Aang doesn't. Aang should be nerding out more about this. I'll do the nerding out for him.

Aang just breezes right by that Gyatso name drop like it's nothing. Huh.

Oh hey Toph. I'd forgotten she was in a box. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber really are quite the pair. What's their plan for keeping her fed and watered? Actually, these guys apparently don't know that maps exist, so it's probably never occurred to them that humans need sustenance. They'll rock up to the Bei Fong estate with corpse Toph and wonder why they aren't getting the reward money.

Mai gets called out in-universe for shopping at Hot Topic.

Ty Lee's buttering up of Azula is getting less and less subtle as the season progresses. It's a testament to Azula's lack of awareness that she's hasn't noticed that, and that Ty Lee can get away with it.

Azula's right that it's an extraordinary opportunity. The King gave them quite literally every piece of info required to overthrow his kingdom in a 25 second conversation. I can't blame her for taking advantage of such an easy win.

That's a very effective unimpressed face. And a very impressive beard.

It's funny to see a spiritual concept from the real world pop up in a show that includes things like bending and giant fish possession. The mention of Chakras kind of sticks out. They couldn't invent a Avatar universe version?

"Once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open." Well that doesn't feel like foreshadowing at all.

This episode should be called "Aang's self-care Journey." It's about time the kid had a me day that wasn't avoidance-based.

Fear: Losing Katara - makes sense. Losing control of his powers via fish possession - makes sense. The Fire Lord - makes sense. But the Blue Spirit? He helped. Doesn't make sense.

Guilt: Running away - makes sense, although I thought he'd worked through that with Katara in the storm. Nuking that idiot General's base - makes sense, but boy did he quite literally ask for it.

This guru is saying some wonderfully accurate, and realistic, things. I love that he's not taking the Katara route of denying anything is wrong. He's going for the acknowledge, then heal route. And yes, it's unfair of me to compare the emotional maturity of Katara to a century+ old spiritual expert.

I'm going to ruin the immersion here and point out that Sokka's dad's voice actor voiced a bunch of characters in season 1. He's doing an excellent job, but couldn't they get a unique voice for a character that's so important (albeit offscreen) to Sokka?

That's an incredibly roundabout way of avoiding pointing out that the Southern Water Tribe are active participants in a bloody war. Sure, we can show multiple characters with visible scarring from horrific burns, but heaven forbid we imply that the Southern Water Tribe sinks ships. The parameters for what is and isn't appropriate on this show sometimes make no sense.

"Aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle." He hasn't seen his boy in two years, but fifteen minutes in his company and he knows exactly what needs to be said and how. That's some top tier parenting. Dad of the year. Dad of the century. Only decent Dad in this show that isn't technically an uncle.

"Follow your passion Zuko, and life will reward you." Great advice for your eight year old audience. Also a great way to end up unemployed.

Positive Sokka creeped me out a few episodes ago. Now positive Zuko is freaking me out too.

Pretty.

Back to Chakras! Shame: Burning Katara - makes sense. But that's it? To have the inner peace of mind of a twelve year old who's somehow only ever done one thing that he's ashamed of.

Is there anyone in the earth kingdom who isn't stupid? Once again wondering at the network's standards. Visible burn injuries are fine, but Mai can't say 'Shut up." It's got to be Shush up. Although I do seem to recall of brief time in the early 2000s when Shut Up was treated as a curse on par with Shit or Fuck. Maybe that was just at my school.

Chakras again! Even for a show that often has an A, B, and C plot, this narrative is ping ponging around a bit much.

Grief: nothing major, just a whole nation. Makes a horrific amount of sense. but I don't buy that he can get over grieving the whole world as he knew it by thinking about his crush. That's way too high a pedestal for Katara to be placed on.

Lies: Not accepting he's the Avatar. Interesting that not accepting that he's the Avatar and not accepting that he's a firebender are two different problems.

I see you reusing the opening credits footage. Your blue filters can't fool me.

PRETTY

Illusion: So we're relearning what we learned in The Swamp. Aang's probably the person currently alive least likely to believe in the rigid separation of the nations anyway. This doesn't feel like an illusion he's subject to?

The way this episode dances between its narrative threads is so great. It's all woven in so beautifully. And this makes perfect sense! Toph's spent her life secretly doing things excellently that everyone says are completely beyond her capabilities. Life has taught her that the statement "you are not able to" doesn't apply. Of course immutable laws of bending physics are treated with the same respect as an adult telling the champion of the Earth Rumble that she's can't earthbend beyond breathing exercises. If you told her that humans can't fly, she'd figure out how within the week.

Plot collision incoming.

Interesting that Katara initially recognises Zuko by his voice rather than his scar.

I'm pretty sure that Zuko and Iroh don't know about the whole brainwashing thing, but wouldn't it be hilarious if Zuko introduced himself to Katara as Joo Dee, and his uncle Joo Dee, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, can I take your order? That would throw Katara into one hell of a moral quandary.

Katara being framed as the solution for Chakra number four comes back to bite Aang, as she's the problem in Chakra number seven. I knew that pedestal was too high.

I've changed my mind. This episode should actually be called "Half a dozen reasons why everyone should just learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut already."

So is anyone going to let Zuko and Iroh know that they're now in immediate danger and need to leave, like, yesterday?

I think the Guru is going for the whole 'if you love them, let them go, and they'll come back to you' thing. Don't cling, in other words. But for the sake of the plot he's suddenly lost his ability to explain Chakras in a way that makes them seem like the logical thing to do. The only clunky bit of this episode so far.

May I introduce you to our Lord and Saviour Toph?

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world." Yes. Yep. Yeah. That's now a quantifiable fact, and it's correct. Look on ye mighty and despair. She's even got Bumi beat.

Earth Tongue Running is a bit wonky looking but it covers a crazy amount of distance.

What's the range on Toph's earth sense? Can she sense what direction Ba Sing Se is?

I hope those two idiots' horse bird is ok.

"You don't know how much this means to me dad." He does. Very much so.

Every word out of this guy's mouth is precision engineered to make Sokka feel like a million bucks and I for one think it's about time someone built him up. Also, seeing this makes me realise how few good parents there are in this show. It's a trope of kids' adventure shows that the parents fundamentally can't be there, but I also think it's a commentary on yet another thing that this war has messed up.

Hey look! Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most, and right now that's in Ba Sing Se, protecting your sister! I love narratives that tie their themes up with a pretty bow on top.

This is Azula laying a trap, right? Which means that Katara squealed to someone about the exact location of Iroh and Zuko's tea shop. Don't like the implications of that.

Photos taken seconds before disaster.

Final Thoughts

This episode was a lot! I mean that in a good way! But I felt a bit like the Maxell Blown Away Guy, the way I kept getting assaulted by yet another plot thread. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a criticism. I think the switching between plot threads and the amount of info in this episode worked 99% of the time. But I'm kind of in awe at the balancing act the writers pulled off and I'm sort of sitting here blinking a bit trying to fit all this stuff in my head. I'm probably going to forget half the stuff I wanted to talk about in this write up, so here goes nothing.

Given the Azula reveal in at the end of last episode, I thought that this would be the episode where the shit hits the fan. I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong. An episode of set up is required and is nice breathing room, even an episode as busy as this. And I got to leave Ba Sing Se! But this does mean that next episode is going to be calamity after calamity.

Aang and his Chakras: I'm fascinated by this guru. I hope he comes back. That brings the total number of people who were alive before the war started up to three: Aang, Bumi, Guru Patik.

I'm impressed that the run through of the Chakras rarely felt like an info dump. The onion and banana juice thing didn't work for me, but I'm sure it worked for people in the target age bracket. Kids love burp jokes.

So many shows sprinkle in tragic backstories for flavour and then never have them influence the character in the present. It was a nice contrast to see a show take a whole episode to tell Aang "yeah all that sucked. It's ok to feel down about it. Here's how you move forward."

Sokka and his dad: Love it. Love it so much. I love seeing Sokka built up, and he definitely deserves it, but I wonder if this is the reward for a character arc well done, or the set up for a character arc that's about to start? Is his dad's praise his prize for crossing the finish line, or is it so he's built up with farther to fall?

I loved seeing more of the Southern Water Tribe. I loved the fashion. There's a lot of variety in accessories and variations on a few basic elements like those knee guard things. I loved their hairstyles. I loved how cozy and communal that command tent felt. I loved their ships. I wonder how often these guys work out, that they can make loading ramps that are presumably deployed and stashed out of the way frequently, out of whole logs rather than planks. I have a bone to pick with the child-friendly sea mine. But it provides a good set up for a dad joke, so I'll let it slide.

Zuko and Iroh: Of course the one time Zuko is allowed to be in a good place, it's so that he and Iroh both have farther to fall when the inevitable happens. Poor guy just can't catch a break. I'd be mad at Azula for the party crashing that I'm assuming she'll do next episode, but it's been established that Zuko has all nice things taken away from him as soon as he gets them, and I can't blame Azula for being a tool of the universe.

Azula & Long Feng: Azula's acting in Long Feng's prison cell was miles ahead of what Long Feng was doing in front of the Earth King, so I'm wondering if Long Feng has bitten off more than he can chew. Also: conspiring with the enemy to bring down your own city just so you can reinstall yourself as the power behind the throne that will presumably cease to exist as soon as the Fire Nation takes control? That is both treasonous beyond description and an incredible case of shooting yourself in the foot. What's Long Feng's plan here?

Toph and the Dunderheads: it says something about the consistency of Toph's characterisation from her introduction onwards that she breaks the universe this episode and my reaction was "that's neat." It's obviously a huge moment, but of course Toph can do that. Toph can do anything. More importantly, Toph knows that Toph can do anything, so Toph routinely does do anything, especially things she shouldn't be able to do. If you had asked me a few episodes back which character would be most likely to fundamentally redefine bending, I would have said Toph, since she's already fundamentally redefined bending with her earth sense sonar vision.

Also Toph just breaks stuff. Things that come into contact with her cease to function as intended and instead function as Toph requires. Look at the two idiots: both successful business owners, one also a successful hoodwinker of the richest family around. But they come into contact with Toph and their brains take an extended vacation.

Katara & the Generals: this plot was more like an extension of Azula's plot than its own standalone thing. You can't blame her for spilling the news about Zuko and Iroh to someone she honestly thought was Suki. Not much else to say about it, although it's cute that she asks for a table for two at the tea shop. Momo gets a chair!

I like that there's a theme this episode of things going wrong despite the best intentions. No one's acting maliciously here apart from the Antagonists. The Earth King is having an honest chat with people he thought were friends. Sokka vouched for people he honestly thought were the Kyoshi Warriors. Katara shares information about a presumed threat with people she honestly thought were her allies. You can quibble with the wisdom of some of these decisions, but there were all done with good intentions. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry and all that. It brings to mind that Star Trek quote about how you can do everything right and still lose. And this set up is going to hit harder when whatever goes wrong next episode happens. And something will go wrong. A few months ago I figured that the Season 2 finale would be a triumph, but all signs are pointing towards a tragedy instead.

This episode was visually stunning, the soundtrack in the Air Temple sections especially was very evocative, and I applaud the minds that could juggle that many plot threads at once without dropping any. This one is definitely going on my rewatch list.

[braindeathaoe]

Brain Death - An Oracle's End

“Welcome back, Oracle.”

Upcoming content may include but won’t be limited to: - Descriptions of intense violence, gore - Substance abuse - Ab*sive/Neglectful parenting - S**cidal/Homicidal thoughts and tendencies - Complete loss of self - Brain death This IF is not for children nor the faint of heart. However, I’ll do my best to integrate warnings preceding potentially triggering material. Proceed at your own discretion.

~In continuing, I hereby acknowledge that any exposure to that which I cannot handle is to the fault of none other than my own.~

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Synopsis

Paradise is a beautiful city.

Encapsulating the very definition of Utopia, it is revered as the shining beacon of North Amerikas. And in 2 hours, it'll be destroyed—along with you and its citizens. But for reasons unknown, death will not take you.

You are an Oracle. A cursed soul doomed to live, perish and repeat your miserable existence in an eternal limbo. Alone, forgotten, disregarded. You've witnessed the carnage countless times; explored as many avenues as humanly possible. You have yet to conquer fate.

It's only going to get worse from here.

Being trapped in this loop for so long has had horrifying consequences on your mind. How many years of memories can the brain truly store?  That question may be answered soon.

Such a shame that nobody will be around to hear it.

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Features

Create and customize your Oracle, developing their personality through dozens of choices!

Be AFAB or AMAB, decide your gender, appearance and pronouns!

Explore the city of Paradise, meet new people and utilize your knowledge of past lives.

Eat a burger.

Uncover lost memories, and maybe find a way to influence them?

Solve the mystery keeping you trapped in this endless loop, or choose to enjoy the time you have left.

Succumb to brain death.

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Demo: TBD

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Author's Note

Hello!

My name is Ricey! I'm the one writing this thing.

This is a passion project that I started out of discontent. In my personal opinion, there are a lot of interactive fictions out there that share similar problems.

Whether it be deciding for you how your character feels, what they say and do, or punishing players for not having the correct stats... It all feels so hollow and sometimes even immersion breaking.

(Don't get me wrong, sometimes there are plenty of upsides to a story to justify these "flaws". But the execution can be lacking, and unsatisfying. No hate!)

The goal of this IF is to give you, my dear reader, full creative control on how your character reacts, what they do with the information provided, and MOST IMPORTANTLY! To not tell you how they're feeling. That should be up to you to decide.

Of course, there will be exceptions to this rule. Some choices will trigger what I'm calling "Emotional States". And for narration purposes there may also be times that your Oracle feels frustration over something. But I will do my best to limit that.

Anyway, I'm done yapping for now. Stay hydrated! And stay tuned!