#and smoking is based on a manga I believe

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare Chapter 128 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-128.html

Page 1

Sign: Judge's Waiting Room.

Side Text: It's Tokise's turn. The competition's second day begins...

Chapter Title: #128 Dull Footsteps

Judge Tatsumi: !

Judge Tatsumi: Agata-sensei, Kurokawa-sensei. Good morning. You are both early, I see.

Page 2

Judge Agata: No, we just arrived ourselves.

Judge Tatsumi: Did you get enough rest yesterday?

Judge Agata: Well, yes.

Judge Tatsumi: I was so excited I didn't sleep a wink!

Judge Tatsumi: To think high school clubs would display such high level!

Judge Tatsumi: And today Ichiei, the best in the nation, will play. I truly can not wait.

Judge Kurokawa: Certainly, they have won for 5 consecutive years.

Judge Tatsumi: Exactly! That is amazing---

Judge Kurokawa: Then again, Ichiei's members are all children who aim to become professionals, so it's to be expected that they are at a completely different level.

Judge Tatsumi: You may be right about that but... Yesterday's Meiryo and Chibana's performances were perfect

Judge Tatsumi: I can't imagine what could possibly surpass that.

Page 3

Judge Tatsumi: ---Also, there is one school that has picked my interest.

Judge Kurokawa: !

Judge Kurokawa: Aah, you mean that problematic school...

Judge Kurokawa: They are out of the question, I would say.

Judge Kurowaka: How could they cause such a commotion and not get suspended?

Judge Tatsumi: They did explain to us that the students weren't really at fault for the incident.

Judge Kurokawa: Where there is smoke, there is fire. It's detrimental to the other students as well.

Judge Kurokawa: At least we, the judges, should give a proper and fair evaluation---

Judge Agata: Are you not planning to judge them solely based on their performance?

Judge Kurokawa: Eh...?

Page 4

Judge Agata: Excuse me but, it sounded to me like you are planning on lowering your rating over areas irrelevant to the performance, so…

Judge Kurokawa: ...I'm sorry you see it that way. To begin with, I don't believe you can separate the performance from the performer.

Judge Kurokawa: For instruments and music... Attitude. Courtesy, Respect... I believe those things are included in the performance.

Judge Kurokawa: And I will most definitely consider them in my judgment.

Judge Kurokawa: --Well, I don't know if you would understand this, Agata-sensei, since you are a musician who always does new things, like collaborating with other genres and using unusual performance methods without respecting the traditions.

Page 5

Judge Agata: I have never disrespected tradition.

Judge Arata: I am trying to explore all of its possibilities while cherishing it.

Judge Tatsumi: Now, now.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: Man... These two are a pain in the ass as per usual...

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: ---Then again, the school in question... I feel sorry for the Tokise kids.

Judge Tatsumi[thoughts]: Even in the unlikely event that they make it to the top

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I can clearly see the bashing we would receive from other schools and their parents.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I want to avoid that kind of hassle.

Page 6

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be conscience-stricken if I lowered my ranking because of that.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: At the end of the day

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: It will be fine as long as Tokise's performance is not that good.

Judge Nanba: Good morning---

Judge Tatsumi: Nanba-sensei, Iwagaki-san, good morning.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: --My... to think I could be so calculating and cowardly.

Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: I think I have become one boring adult.

Page 7

Isaki [thoughts]: I was a bit late to leave. I wonder if I can still ambush Takaoka-kun.

Isaki [thoughts]: Also, I wonder if Uzuki will be waiting for me

Isaki [thoughts]: If not… well, that's the path he chose for himself.

???: Isaki.

Page 8

Isaki: Eh?

Tetsuki: ...

Tetsuki: ...Whatever, I've already gotten used to it. This pattern.

Tetsuki: Alright, fine. I will get in.

Page 9

Isaki: ...Takaoka-kun, sorry.

Tetsuki: Eh?

Isaki: For every time I've taken you forcibly on a drive, I have not once felt an ounce of regret about it. If anything I enjoyed seeing how much you hated it.

Tetsuki: What?

Isaki: But today

Isaki: I regret it from the bottom of my heart. I'm very sorry.

Tetsuki: What's with that, suddenly? I'm scared now.

Isaki: Well, first off, get in.

Tetsuki: I reaally don't want to...

Isaki: Just do it

Tetsuki: Whaa---...

Page 10

*No text*

TL/N: Welcome to spooky season.

Page 11

Tetsuki: ----... Uh... umm...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: Don't... tell me

Tetsuki [sfx]: Turns

Isaki: Yup, as expected you are quick on the uptake.

Isaki: -----

Page 12

Isaki: That's Chika's father.

Chika(?): No joke, the air is so crisp and clear the moment you arrive at the venue!

Mittsu(?): It feels like something is about to happen

Satowa(?): Aren't there more people than yesterday?

Chika(?): Ah, you are right.

Suzuka: Well, it's Ichiei's, the Nation's number one, turn. Also--

Page 13

Student 1: Aren't those the Tokise people?

Student 2: Woah, they are.

Student 3: They do kinda stick out like a sore thumb...

Student 4: They really came...

Sane: Ri... right...

Suspicious men: Did you take it?

Chika: !

Satowa: Kudou?

Tsukaji: Hello, you guys!

Tsukaji: How are you feeling?

Page 14

Chika: Old man!

Tsukaji: Did you get proper sleep yesterday?

Chika: Ye- yeah

Suspicious guy 1: Who's that dude. Get outta the way---

Komaki: Whaaat---

Komaki: Are these Peeping Toms what I'm seeing here? Oh gosh, scaaryy-

Tsurugi: Security, over here--!

Suspicious guy 1: Shut up. What the hell!

Suspicious guy 2: Hey, let's just go.

Tsurugi: What? You shut up!!

Tsurugi: Are you ok?

Suzuka: I'm sorry. Thank you very much.

Student 1: Even voyeurs.

Student 2: Well, isn't this their own fault?

Page 15

Student 3: Isn't it because Tokise has come that people with no civility have gathered here?

Student 4: This is really bothersome.

Tsukaji: Ugh---

Chika: Old ma...

Sane: It's all good, Tsukaji-san.

Sane: I don't mean to brag here, but we are used to playing in hostile fields

Page 16

Mittsu: You really are bragging---

Satowa: Well, we have certainly got used to it.

Satowa: To people (audibly) talking behind our backs and being looked at with disdain.

Takezou [thoughts]: They really do have thick skin... Should I be happy about that...?

Hiro: Hozuki-chan is growing so fast.

Takezou [thoughts]: Ah but, what about the first years---

Atsumu: I used to get bullied! The fact that you guys are with me now makes me feel so at ease!

Natsu: I don't care about other people.

Takezou [thoughts]: Aah, so strong.

Sane: Wahaha we know, Momoya.

Page 17

Sane: Well, that's how it is. So you don't have to---

Tsukaji: I'm so touched...

Sane: Whaat--...?

Tetsuki [thoughts]: ...Isaki-san.

Isaki [thoughts]: ...Yes.

Page 18

Tetsuki [thoughts]: What is this ride from hell?

Isaki [thoughts]: Sorry. I'm really sorry...

Isaki [thoughts]: My brother didn't even contact me, he just suddenly appeared...!!

[flashback begins]

Chika's Father: ---Isaki

Isaki: Eh?

Isaki: Wai- what!? Bro- brother!?

Isaki: Wha- no way. Why are you here!? Don't tell me you came to listen to the performance!?

Page 19

Chika's Father: ...

Isaki: Ah, no.

Isaki: Sorry, I totally thought you were not coming. You gave me a start.

Chika's Father: I'm going back.

Isaki: What!?

Isaki: Now, wait a second. Why are you so bent out of shape over this? Didn't it take a lot of determination to come here!?

Isaki: And didn't you come all the way to where I'm staying hoping I could give you some room with Chika!?

Page 20

Chika's Father: ...I haven't really thought about something like that.

Chika's Father: I don't want to see him.

Isaki: ...Then why did you come all they way to this place.

Chika's Father: ...

Chika's Father: ... ....

Isaki [sfx]: Pissed

Isaki: Whatever, I gotta go pick those two up. For the time being, just get in the car, Brother!!

[end flashback]

Isaki[thoughts]: Maybe I was too reckless---

Page 21

Isaki [thoguths]: No, but if I let him like that, I'm sure Brother would've gone back...

Isaki [thoughts]: Even so, this atmosphere is so heavy---

Tetsuki: Um.

Tetsuki: Is today perhaps... your day off from work?

Isaki [thougths]: Takaoka-kun...

Chika's Father: No...

Tetsuki: Ah, that means you took a vacation day to come here, then.

Chika's Father [sfx]: Glare...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: Woah

Isaki: Hold on!! You drop that rude attitude towards Takaoka-kun right now, you stupid brother.

Chika's Father: !

Page 22

Isaki: He has always been beside Chika supporting him, and the reason he is able to smile now is because of Takaoka-kun!

Isaki: Instead of glaring at him shouldn't you be thanking him?

Chika's Father: ...I ...See.

Chika's Father: ... ... Sorry...

Tetsuki: Ah, not at all...

Isaki[thoughts]: A man who won't say"Thank you"...

Page 23

Chika's Father: ...Are you also his... friend?

Tetsuki & Isaki: !!

Uzuki: ...No. I'm...

Uzuki: The person who vandalized Chika's Granpa's place and then framed Chika as the culprit.

Tetsuki & Isaki [thoguths]: Geh....!!!!

Page 24

Chika's Father: Wha...

Uzuki: Also, recently, to make Chika look bad, I edited a video where he was helping out a kid from being harassed, posted it on social media, and it became trending.

Tetsuki: He- Hey, Uzuki Are you serious...

Chika's Father: ..Wha

Chika's Father: What... Are you saying...?

Chika's Father: You mean that incident, it wasn't the guys he hung out with---

Isaki: I don't know how many times I've told you, Chika had nothing to do with it.

Chika's Father: But... The fact that he was the cause of it is true, isn't it!?

Isaki: ...Trying to become happy... He grabbed onto Dad's hand, that's all.

Chika's Father: Hu...

Page 25

Uzuki: Fu ...If you had really looked at Chika.

Uzuki: You would have easily known that.

Isaki: Uzuki-kuuun?? You are right, but that is not something you should be saying, is it?

Isaki: You have no right to reproach my brother.

Page 26

Uzuki: ... I'm sorry...

Tetsuki [thoughts]: ...What is this ride from hell... (Second time)

Isaki [thoghts]: I promise I will invite you to eat expensive meat.

[flashback]

Chika's Father: You are a disgrace!!

Chika's Father: In your 3rd year of middle school, and you can't tell the difference between what is right and what is wrong to do!?

Isaki: Wait, Brother! Stop it, we are in front of Dad.

Chika's Father: You stay out of it!

Chika's Father: What's with those eyes. If you have an excuse, then say it

Chika: ...Nah, not really.

Page 27

Chika's Father: What did you say?

Chika: Whatever, I don't care.

Chika [memory]: Dad

Chika [memory]: Dad

Chika[distorted]: D a d...

Page 28

Chika: I don't give a shit about what you think about me anymore.

Chika [memory]: I'm sorry for being born.

[end flashback]

Page 29

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: Even if there is a person right next to me who framed my son for a crime.

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: Even if that person spits sarcasm at me.

Page 30

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: The right to be angry about such a thing.

Chika's Dad [thoughts]: I don't have it.

Sane: I'm glad we can sit together.

Kota: Riight?---

Page 31

Takezou's Mom: Takezou! Takezou!

Takezou: Ah

Chika: Your mom and dad?

Takezou: Yeah...

Chika: Wahaha You look just like your mom!!

Page 32

Assistant: Ichiei High School, you have 10 minutes before leaving.

Kifune-sensei: Yes, thank you. Ok, guys, let's get ready to leave---...

Page 33

Kifune-sensei: Mi...

Luka: Miran, it's time.

Page 34

Akira: If I remember correctly, Ichiei was playing 4th, right?

Suzuka: Yes.

Akira: Um... Did you notice? Ichiei's parts. Before, they---...

Suzuka: Aah, yes.

Program:

Solo - Luka Chevalier

1st Koto - Hoshou Sao

2nd Koto: Hanahata Imari

3rd Koto: Saotome Miran

17-Stringed Koto: Takamura Togo

Suzuka: Apparently, they have no intention of giving up first place this year either.

Side Text: The new interpretation of [Tomfoolery] that Luka and Miran's exchange has sparked is---...

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue on the next issue!---

[revlischarm]

what are some of your favourite one piece hc's :?

Sorry this took so long I was jotting them down as I went. I’m sure I missed some of them because a few weren’t coming to mind but uhhhh. The list turned out way longer than I thought it would be!!

• All of the ones you listed because they’re great

• Transman Crocodile

• Transman Ace

• Sabo has a tattoo like Ace’s except on his right arm, and it says “SABO” but with the “A” crossed out. heheheheh ‘SBO’ lmao

• Sharp teeth Zoro supremacy

• Ace has narcolepsy

• Luffy has a tattoo of the dawn that doubles as a Strawhat on his forearm!! I saw that idea somewhere and I’ve just. Amassed it into my horde.

• Zoro getting the Strawhat Jolly Roger tattooed on his back after Luffy is King of the Pirates,,,my beloved,,,

• Luffy has a bracelet of beads like Ace’s after Marineford!!! So does Sabo :)

• Zoro instinctively likes doing things in sets of three’s. Has a thing when it comes to numbers and counting. I’m inflicting him with a very specific brand of OCD/Autism. I saw this stuff with him counting certain things in this one Lawzo fic?? Fucking amazing, highly recommend. I’m gonna link it here just for how incredible it portrays Zoro.

Seriously, even if Lawzo isn’t your thing, I recommend it alone just based on that particular Zoro trait.

• Robin can do an impeccable horror girl scream. You know the one.

• Zoro can do math in his head insanely quickly

• Zoro knows how to garden a bit after time on Kuraigana

• Luffy is super knowledgeable about bugs, actually! His favorite kind of insects are Atlas Beetles

• Sabo is fucking unhinged. Good for him. Would crush the skull of anyone who so much as looks at Luffy the wrong way.

• I’m partial to the idea that Luffy has a super high metabolism

• Zoro’s got an oral fixation (Luffy might too, actually)

• Colorblind Crocodile

• Zoro is agender!!! Mostly uses they/he, but honestly, I don’t think Zoro would fucking care what pronouns you use for them

• Luffy has a bad habit of gnawing on things, especially fingernails, when he’s hungry. Which begs the question, are his fingernails rubber as well? When they fall to the ground like rubbings from an eraser, do they too retain their elastic properties? Who can say. Do Luffy’s teeth fluctuate between solid and rubber. Is Luffy capable of breaking any bones at all. I have so many questions about the physics of devil fruits sometimes you have no idea

• Sanji smokes because it can stave off hunger; he’s also always the last to eat, waiting until everyone else has their meal before eating himself

• Law is a fucking nerd and I’ll say it. He’s absolutely the type to try and act/look cooler than he actually is and I think most of the fandom has fallen for that ruse. I love him still, tho. Pathetic wet meow meow. You are sad and depressing and a genuine freak. Good for you.

• I like thinking that Doflamingo is partially blind in one eye from getting hit by an arrow during his whole backstory as a kid, that’s why he’s always wearing the glasses. Yes I know he’s also wearing glasses as a kid, leave me alone, it’s between that and the idea that maybe he and Rosinante have some sort of light sensitivity, since they both have their eyes covered when they’re younger.

• Crocodile’s eyes are the most gorgeous shade of lavender I’ve ever fucking seen, I swear to god

• Goth family. Goth family. Goth family!!!! I don’t care how unlikely it is I FIRMLY believe that all three of them keep avid tabs on each other, and would 100% do frequent calls on den den if they weren’t affronted by the idea that it would seem needy(Idk if that’s the right word but. You know what I mean. They’re embarrassed to admit they care.)

• Zoro picked up a mishmash of behavioral traits from both Perona and Mihawk after the two years. Man knows how to do hair and paint nails now. Picked up a smidge of fashion sense from them both, too (and by that I mean goth)

• Law and Robin get along insanely well, they have the same sense of humor.

• Law loves anything even slightly bear-shaped. He has so many items that go along with the theme. Fucking loser nerd.

• Law also gets super moody on winter islands; I read a fic once where he tends to go to the local church whenever he visits one and. Yeah idk that felt right to me. Law’s got an overall SOMETHING of a relationship with religion (just based off some of what we saw with his childhood I think) that I’m not complex or knowledgeable enough to do a justified analysis of

• Sanji makes recipe books, and labels them with notes on what’s easiest vs more hard to make in case the crew ever needs that. Dude also absolutely has a notebook somewhere on how to prepare human meat should it ever come to that. The ideal way to mourn his passing. Consume the flesh of the fallen. Become feast.

• Sanji’s hands don’t have a single blemish on them, and he moistures them frequently, actually.

• Luffy gives platonic kisses to all of his crew mates!!! All of the love

• Franky sacrificed a lot of the feeling left in his body during the two year skip in order to get stronger for everyone :(

• Law has golden eyes, Zoro’s is silver, Luffy’s are an abyss of darkness. Like a bug!!!! Bug-eye luffy. He’s a creature to me.

• Luffy likes to walk up stairs on all fours

• I think another reason that Luffy’s built up such an immunity to poison is because he puts his mouth on literally EVERYTHING. Consumes so much that should be inedible and takes it in stride.

• On that note, I think that Zoro would deliberately ask Sanji to poison his meals sometimes just to build up his own resistance. Because that’s also the safest way to go about it honestly.

• Sanji burns really easily in the sun actually I think lmao. And he always has one part of his face that’s perfectly off-color

• The arm that Shanks lost was his dominant one :) that’s part of the reason Mihawk was so disappointed he lost it. He would sword fight with that hand. Any letters he tried to write to people came off as shaky and uneven for the longest time

• Zoro is ambidextrous. He can also write shockingly well with his mouth and his feet if need be. Fucker is absolutely planning to go multiple different sword styles one day. Cut off his legs, replace them with blades.

• Luffy will bite Zoro a lot just because. It’s Zoro. Why would he mind. Captain is just releasing pent up energy cause he got excited.

• Luffy is immune to getting acne—as well as most other skin conditions—since he’s made of rubber. Lucky bastard.

• Kidd has a ton of piercings that he can and will use as projectiles. He’s also 100% had tetanus and rabies as a child. It just fits.

• I think that—Zolu or not—Zoro was Luffy’s first kiss. Just based on principle. A captain and his first mate, sitting in a cramped dinghy for who knows how long together?? Listen, all I know is they must have talked about some weird shit. And Luffy probably mentioned that he’d never kissed anyone before if it was brought up, before going suddenly silent and then asking if he could kiss Zoro. Just because. And who’s Zoro to say no to his new captain?

• Sometimes Sabo will sit and just. Let himself be on fire. Just to see if he can feel Ace.

• I firmly believe one of the reasons Zoro and Sanji don’t get along is because of their differing views on woman—or more specifically, how Sanji acts with them that pisses Zoro off to an extent. And that’s due to the whole Kuina thing. The fact that Sanji would not only treat women like they’re glass, so capable of breaking and delicate, to the point where he refuses to so much as lay a finger (or toe in this case??) on them—it really fucking grates Zoro. If a person is demanding you to fight them on equal grounds, regardless of their gender, you shouldn’t disrespect them just because they’re female. Just feels like an insult. Cant fucking believe I gotta argue in defense of hitting women here because of you, Sanji

• Usopp has the second best observation haki on the crew—and I say second only because of the whole Luffy and Katakuri thing. Yeah. Third best would be either Zoro or Sanji, because we see Zoro specifically training with haki during the timeskip, and after losing an eye I refuse to believe that Mihawk wouldn’t give Zoro a pretty decent training in observation haki to make up for that. And Sanji just. Idk man he gives me the vibes, plus he always seems adept at being able to know when someone’s in danger (even if that’s only catering specifically to the female sex)

• I think that Zoro postures a lot whenever Luffy compliments Sanji or talks about how cool someone else is because he doubts his place on the crew a lot. Like. He’s just the swordsman, right? He’s a lot more replaceable than the other members of the crew, a swordsman isn’t totally needed to survive in the New World. Y’know. Stuff like that :)

• Zoro has a super high alcohol tolerance, so it takes a lot to get him drunk. He’s also got a high tolerance to most heavy sedatives.

• Zoro does the boob-grab thing to himself sometimes when he’s thinking. You know the one. I sure do. Hold the titty for comfort and serotonin.

• Law is an EXTREME control freak. Just in general.

• Zoro and Usopp are part of girls nights. Just because. They are.

• Transmac Usopp my beloved also—this is UNRELATED TO THE PREVIOUS HC. Usopp is part of girls nights because of his chill vibes!!!! Don’t get it twisted. I’ll bite you.

• Everyone is autistic. Not just the Strawhats, but like. Everyone in the One Piece universe. Luffy is the most autistic. He’s going to be King of the Autistics. His hyperfixation is pirates and he’s collecting crew mates like plushies at the end of his bed

Idk if I have more, I probably do just stirring around in my brain somewhere

[99pacificpassions]

Cat Corners a Mouse

@absolutebl:

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese AKA Kyuso wa Chizu no Yume wo Miru (Japan 2020) - Drama llama queers so queer and so dramatic it's like Japan is trying to PROVE something: obsession, cheating, break-up, reunion, then break up again, all of it explicit. This show is just SO JAPANESE. I can't even, but you should watch it and you'll know exactly what I mean. Something like My Personal Weatherman owes it's lineage to this kind of BL. If you like Japan naked, boney, emo, and smoking (hot & ciggy) you will love this, and should watch it. It's objectively amazing, I can't stand it, but I NEED people to talk about it more.

Absolute-kun gives so much and asks for so little. Here's my personal appreciation of this terrific film, for him and others interested in top shelf BL…

Spoilers ahead, but I felt Cornered Mouse (currently on Viki) was better the second time because I could soak up the details. If you haven’t seen it, you might enjoy it more with some background beforehand. It's a bit difficult to keep up with.

The seme is Imagase Wataru (on left above), a gay man passionately in love with Otomo Kyoichi, a businessman married to a woman. Wataru (given name) is like a character out of American Noir… literally a chain-smoking private investigator.  Like a Noir protagonist, we may not like his means, but he has a code he lives by.

Kyoichi is handsome and sympathetic, but he places himself in situations where women eventually suggest a sexual liaison and his fatal character flaw is that he can’t say no to women. But the philanderer can say no to Wataru, to a point. He’s much rougher with Wataru’s feelings than he is with any of the women in the movie.

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese is based on a manga of the same name and reviewers say that it’s about 65% faithful to the original story. Another reviewer compared it to Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, which is one of the best films ever made. I won’t claim Cornered Mouse is in Mood's league, but I would say it's close and that the main differences are Mood’s opulence and heterosexuality. Cornered Mouse is the best-crafted BL I’ve seen to date.

The film has some great writing, but prefers to show instead of tell, which requires a lot from the talented actors. Narita Ryo as Wataru is remarkable and a couple screenshots aren’t going to do his performance justice, but here he's hunched on a stool like a cat:

Here's Wataru after Kyoichi wakes up to find him looking through the text messages on Kyoichi's phone... in the same room: 

Narita Ryo transcends the AbsoluteBL bar for great acting. Elsewhere, he’s not afraid to look ugly in a scene.

Obviously, this film’s in the BL category of “gay man converts straight man”, generally considered a doomed goal within the queer experience. Somehow, Cornered Mouse’s river of details makes this seem realistic, mostly due to the straight lead’s indecisiveness and Wataru’s persistence... and his fellatio techniques.

Negative reviewers of Cornered Mouse never dispute that it's well-crafted. They tend to complain about the ending and that the characters were difficult to like. Yet, the movie is about accepting people for who they are. If you don’t believe me… well, here’s the director Yukisada Isao:

My hot take is that Cornered Mouse is less about the lead characters accepting each other for who they are and more about the audience accepting them despite Kyoichi’s duplicity and Wataru’s lack of ethics.

The audience is also asked to accept the dilemmas inherent within the “gay man converts straight man” BL subgenre. At a key moment, well along in the men’s sexual relationship, Kyoichi’s college lover has called them both separately for drinks. She makes Kyoichi choose between them, resulting in this exchange:

Kyoichi (to Wataru): “I could never choose you. No straight guy would. You get it, don’t you?”

Wataru, smirking: “Yes.”

Kyoichi then goes to bed with the ex-girlfriend, but can’t perform. He returns to Wataru and is “punished” for his hubris. 

Previously, Wataru has asked to be the top during sex, but was rebuffed. After getting drilled, Kyoichi treats his relationship with Wataru with new respect. Yes, he will break up with him and even get engaged with a woman, but he goes through the formalities of a break up, on par with a heterosexual relationship. He’s far more concerned with Wataru’s feelings, even as he’s crushing him, than he was before that key moment.

The film asks its contemporary audience to come to terms with this more traditional implication: that Kyoichi “turned gay” by taking the sub role.

The other problem for many reviewers was Cornered Mouse’s open ending. They thought it was open, anyway. I didn’t. Kyoichi breaks off his engagement to a lovely woman and vows to “prepare” for the return of his lover Wataru. Kyoichi has always been the reluctant partner. Throughout the film, Wataru pursued Kyoichi no matter his target’s resistance... stalking, blackmailing, pleading... as if he had no limits. Of course, he’ll be back for more. Besides, in the manga, it’s made clear that’s what happens.

Wataru talking earlier in the film:

[ispendtoomuchtimeonline]

Idk if you're into MHA anymore and I know this is a very common complaint, but it absolutely grinds my gears how the narrative/characters wank Bakugou off for ANYTHING he does.

Develops an ultimate move (the literal thing everyone else was doing)? Aizawa, All Might, and like 5 other 1A members stop what they're doing to monologe about his "potential".

Participates in the Joint Training Exercise? 1B keeps repeating how Bakugou's the biggest threat (not like Todoroki and Momo exist, but okay)

Acts like a colossal asshat during the Sports Festival and runs straight into the LOV's arms at the Forest Camp Attack? UA runs damage control on his behalf - talking about how "he works harder than anyone (which throws the rest of 1A under the bus) - and takes no measures towards reigning in his behavior.

Blatantly torments Izuku and mistreats his classmates? "It's just classic Bakugou!", "you two need to make up and be friends!", "you're proper rivals 🥰", "leave Bakugou alone! He really cares!", "he's hero material! You all should retire for criticizing him!" "I know you tried killing your classmate, but grow up and stop wasting your talents!", "they have no communication!", "here Bakugou, let me hug you and comfort you while leaving your injured victim on the ground!"

What's worse is that for all of his supposed "character development", not once does ever aknowledge the full scope of the shitty things he's done. He admits to All Might and 1A by extension that he bullied Izuku due to his Quirklessness. Okay, 1. you were already an ass to him before that, and 2. how exactly did you bully him again? Oh yeah, you told him to go kill himself, used your Quirk on him and his belongings, tried killing him during the Battle Trials, and threatened him to not apply to UA. You even dragged him outside after curfew to take out your anger and jealousy over failing the Provisional License Exam and not being All Might's successor out on him. He even says this won't change anything between them, which goes to show that he has no remorse for his actions.

Sorry it took me so long to respond. Literally everything you said here is 1000% true. It’s why I actually quit the manga a long time ago.

It’s just…what happened to BNHA is so pathetic and sad it’s not even worth getting angry over anymore. And what’s most bewildering is that I KNOW Horikoshi is capable of decent writing. Even great writing. (*cough* Stain Arc *cough*) And his ideas had incredible potential. So, WTF went wrong? Is he really that big of a Bakugo fanboy? Does he actually believe the things he’s writes? Or is he just pandering to Bakugo’s fan base? And if so, why? Is he simply trying to milk this unexpected cash cow for all its worth? Is he so scared of this portion of his fan base’s (admittedly rabid and vitriolic) disapproval that he lost his spine? Is he secretly sick of writing this series and trying to sabotage it? Is it even him, or are his editors pushing him to write this crap because THEY want to milk the cash cow? And Horikoshi refuses to stand up them because, again, no spine?

Well, whatever the reason is, all I can do is gaze upon the smoking wreckage that is BNHA and shake my head at the fact that the writer did this to his own work. And, you know, consume media that’s actually WORTH my time.

[bl4ckr0se-3006]

Looking for a Sherlock related Rp. I would playing to some degree my own take on Arrhur Conan Doyle’s famous detective, who I honestly adore. My version of Sherlock is based on the books and the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock and I recently started watching the Anime Moriarity the Patriot, which I am being honest I love and no it has not changed the way I view Sherlock in the slightest.

Trigger warning: Drug abuse/addiction and Mental illness, smoking and drug overdose.

For this RP I would be looking for my partner to play John Watson and Mrs Hudson (yes Mrs Hudson not Miss Hudson, this isn’t entirely based on Moriarty th let Patriot, it does also to some degree have links to the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock TV Show and I personally fell like having the 221B landlady as an old lady makes more sense.)

These first 3 pictures above show to some degree the physical appearance of Sherlock I am wanting to use for this Rp. Since Benedict Cumberbatch has Sectoral Hereochrimia that makes his eyes both blue and green at the same time I play Sherlock with Sectoral Hereochrimia and blue-green eyes also. The bottom image shows what his eyes look like when blue. The top one is without freckles, I used Faceapp to add the freckles and top one and middle two show what his eyes look like when green. One of the middles ones has freckles. And one of them shows full suit. I got the images off Pixai art generator. The pictures below show the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock and Morairty the Patriot Sherlock who inspired my own view of Sherlock as I want to play him.

Do I have plot ideas for this well I am glad you asked. I am happy to come up with one together. Or I do have one plot idea which we can use, however trigger warning the plot would contain drug use/addiction on Sherlock’s part, as well as I would be playing Sherlock to be High Functioning Autistic and have Bipolar Disorder also. As well as I would play Sherlock as having an IQ of 190.

The plot idea:

John moves back into 221B Baker street following Mary’s death, with his baby daughter to find the place is a complete mess, which of course the mess is Sherlock’s fault, since the house he was living in with Mary was two large. Sherlock of course wouldn’t be expecting this and maybe the two weren’t really talking to begin with at the time. But we’d go from there. I do have one scene in mind where Sherlock would either be drunk or high before he’d end up accidentally admitting to having feelings for John if you’re interested please pm me. This can work for a platonic without the scene where Sherlock gets drunk/high or romantic with that scene.

I want to keep with Mary’s main storyline from the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock Tv Show though the setting can be either Victorian or Modern. I don’t mind. We can discuss in Pms. I would ask that my partner be familiar with The Sherlock Holmes books, the Benedict Cumberbatch Tv show adaptation of Sherlock and Moriarty the Patriot Anime, I have yet to finish the anime and yet to read the manga. I am currently reading the Arthur Conan Doyle books and have finished the Benedict Cumberbatch adaptation of Sherlock.

The head cannons which for Sherlock I want to use for this rp are:

1. He is Asexual and Biromantic, he can fall in love though doesn’t really understand it. That’s why he tends to act the way he does around Molly.

2. He is Autistic, specifically High Functioning Autistic (this one is kind of recognized in canon anyway, John brings up a reference to it). It’s not impossible for someone who I’d autistic to be a genius, it can happen and honestly I picked up several signs in Sherlock which led me to accept this headcannon, and I am a strong believer in it. I could go on a rant about it but this isn’t that kind of post this post is simply to set out the Headcannons I have for Sherlock.

3. He suffers from Bipolar Disorder. He swings between hypomania and depression and in general his mood swings in combination with the fact he’s neurodivergent make him almost impossible to deal with by the wrong people - for example Sargent Sally Donovan and Philip Anderson (For the Benedict Cumberbatch Adaptation of Sherlock) and Assistant Inspector Gregson (For Moriarty the Patriot) - for my Sherlock all of them, being three such people.

[skatingbi]

Fighter Pilot AU - All the character's roles in the storyline so far (Pt. 1/3)

Hello everyone! I decided to organize my notes app more by adding everyone's roles to this post. So far, this AU includes Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Usopp, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Shanks, Garp, and Mihawk. I hope I can add in Koby somehow bc Luffy/Koby has my heart but as a newbie to the OP canon storyline I'll have to read more of the manga first since I just barely got to the Water 7 arc...

Anyways, heres the masterlist of major traits, roles, flying habits, etc. that I can think of for Luffy, Zoro, and Nami! Enjoy!

Luffy: Luffy is a fucking lunatic while flying...you know the scene at the end of maverick where the enemy 5th gen pull that free flying shit and use gravity/steering alone to evade fucking missles??? yeah, luffy does that shit. bro takes "dont think just do" too literally and is somehow the top of his class bc of it. Shanks definitely taught him that.

Luffy is Zoro's best friend and also close to Sanji, but in this AU, Luffy and Zoro are either childhood friends or just happened to be in the same company together for basic training and have stuck together since then. Maybe in the past, Zoro was Luffy's nav until Nami joined the group, and then Zoro flew solo afterward like he wanted.

He's the youngest of the group for this series as well, at least under 21 but above 18. In modern standards, enlisted soldiers will be 18 or older for this AU, but I also dont think Luffy is old enough to drink. That being said, Luffy doesn't care for smoking or alcohol anyway since he prefers to eat all the snacks he wants lmao

I also believe in adoptive dad Shanks supremacy in this AU. Yes, I know who Luffy's canon dad is. No, I will not be following canon. Canon is simply a suggestion at this point, and this entire AU is self indulgent as hell anyway. Shanks being luffy's father figure means that having to spectate Luffy in the marines is both reassuring and also two seconds away from giving him a panic attack but we'll talk more about that in his own entry later.

Zoro: Zoro joined the marines with Kuina the moment they both grew out of foster care. Even though they were both in separate locations for basic training (Zoro in the east blue and Kuina was probably in the north blue) they constantly kept in contact. Kuina is essentially Zoro's big sister, and he looked up to her a LOT and is the main reason why he even became a pilot.

In the beginning, Zoro joined to be in infantry (or infantry equivilant) and Kuina joined to be a pilot (I can see her being a fighter pilot for sure, but she would also probably do well as a bomber or even a test pilot in the beginning). Kuina would always talk about her achievements and adventures when she was legally allowed to, and Zoro would do the same. After a year, when they were setting up a meeting date to visit each other since Zoro would be stationed in the North Blue with her, he gets the news that she passed away.

During his assignment in the North Blue, which was originally supposed to be 2 years long, he was pulled out a year early. This is when he meets Mihawk. This meeting will most likely be when Zoro decides to change career paths and after months of arguing with admin and the world government he can finally change jobs to be a pilot and finish what Kuina started: Becoming the world's greatest fighter pilot.

Zoro flies like he fights in the manga/anime. Defensive and only offensive when his squad is threatened. This is how he gets a confirmed kill after resuming his assignment in the North Blue under his new job title. Although he's the newest to piloting in the top gun program in this AU, he's extremely gifted, and I also believe zoro is smarter than people make him out to be as well.

Nami: Nami originally became a pilot for the pay (irl in the U.S. pilots make decent pay as far as I know, so im basing it off that knowledge. Piloting can have diverse pay, though). She wanted to send money to her family to help keep them afloat, especially since their home relies on agriculture for income. Although she prefers nav over being a fighter pilot, her skills caught the eyes of a few top gun instructors, and so she used that to be able to get accepted into the program. Her, Usopp, and Robin bond over this, despite Usopp being a talented fighter pilot as well.

Nami is also extremely smart, not only academically but also practically. Her street smarts, as I like to call them, are extremely useful to the friend group, especially when training and doing mock combat exercises. Zoro actually respects this about her and grows to become a close friend of hers as well. In this AU, when Zoro doesnt know how to talk to the men about something, he'll usually go to Nami since not only is she great at reading people but also doesnt sugar coat her thoughts or feelings.

I like to think that Luffy also latches onto her as well, and when she attempts to leave the program, Luffy immediately refuses to let her and gets the rest of the group to encourage her to stay. She's always had a rough time trusting people, but the friends she's made out of her squad members have helped her open up a lot more.

[amazon-did-nothing-wrong]

Parents probably yelled at Kamen Rider more because it was more popular, therefore a bigger target, there for they'd get more attention & smoke up their asses from tabloid headlines. In fact the 1972 toku Barom-1, loosely based on the 1970 manga of the same name by Takao Saitou of Golgo 13 fame (fun show btw), got cut short at 35 episodes due to bad press from an either highly exaggerated or outright fabricated (I don't remember which I'll have to double check) tabloid claiming a German exchange student was getting bullied over his name sounding similar to the series' main villain, Doruge (ドルゲ) I'm inclined to believe that the piece was entirely fake as I can't find a single German name that sounds remotely like that.

This reminds me of how supposedly the reason they had to do a sudden direction change for X Rider was because someone wrote to the studio complaining that the villains being based on Greek mythology was an insult to their religion

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

*Sees a post in my other, current main fandom that gives me pause and makes me realize something about my OCs in this fandom.* So, I make no secret oflong-term being into Trigun and of having been swept BACK into that fandom by the recent "Stampede" reboot. That set of fiction has influenced me greatly in life and my fiction writing (fanwork and regular writing) in a big way. I just sort of had a revelation today about my clone OCs. Everyone who ever did stuff with Horde clone stuff in this fandom, particularly when it was a fad, had their own takes on them and did "Instant OC, just add water" to them - because the canon just had them as random minions and wouldn't and couldn't spend a lot of time on them because that was not the story being told. They were essentially free for the fandom to use post-series and so, a lot of fun. We generally had fun with them being / coming from a hive mind, but still having had some independent thoughts the entire time (even though they had to suppress them, because, you know, cult) and discovering their independence. I remember even when I was full-bore into Spop and not into my old fandom as much thinking about Horde clone parallels to the Plants of Trigun. I'm especially thinking about it now, but even then... It's not entirely the same, as the Plants are not in a cult (more like what a human cult worships - see manga and Stampede, it's not detailed in the '90s anime), but they are a used and abused enslaved race. The number of "Independents" (including the protagonist and antagonist of the series) can be counted on one hand. Anyway, without digressing into chattering about my other fandom too much, I saw a thread about Vash the Stampede's and Millions Knives' brotherly relationship, particularly about Knives' twisted protectiveness of Vash and I just had this weird flashbang to my Spop Horde-clone OCs. So, Robin and Jerome, I'm talking about them again, even though I've pretty much decided never to write about them again for personal reasons (death in my family last year that I took pretty hard, making them a bit "too real" for me, given the themes of their stories). I'm glad they existed in my brain, I do believe that they prepared me for what I didn't know was coming. They helped me parse grief before I had it? Anyway, even though the two are literal clones, I gave them an adopted brotherly relationship that was an "older brother, younger brother" thing. One is of an older batch and the other is from a younger batch, but most of their relationship is more like the "gruffer, more stoic clone" and the "sensitive, emotive clone." (Granted, Robin isn't like Knives at all - he's not genocidal. I'd say he's probably more like Wolfwood if you wanted to find any parallels, sans having a giant gun and a bad smoking habit - Wolfwood's even an undertaker instead of a priest in the new series, which made me raise my eyebrows). And then Jerome has as one of his defining characteristics some rather prominent scars. (Vash-influence. Vash is just RIDDLED with scars, although there aren't any of them on his face like what I did with Jerome). So, I don't know... I think I am being confronted with how much of my love of good ol' Vash I actually put into one of my OCs here - a sensitive guy who is treated as the "younger" of a set of unnaturally-born brothers mainly based upon his sensitivity and who's got some gnarly scars (for trying to save a life). An older brother who has an urge to protect his more sensitive younger brother (albiet the fact that Robin is in no way twisted and abusive in his protection). Still, some of the same gist. I recall some of it being purposeful, but some of it was probably subconscious, too. Thank you for letting me talk about my OCs for once in a dog's age. (For all of maybe two of you who care)? (My blog, my rules, I'll talk about whatever I want, even if it's stupid).

[fanthatracks]

Doctor Aphra (2020) #31 ALL MADE ONE An uneasy truce between Aphra and the Spark brought the dual-inhabited body of the archaeologist to the Amaxine Station. There, Aphra came face-to-face with Darth Vader. After an intense battle, Aphra and the Spark were finally separated, with the good Doctor saying goodbye to the locked-away spirit of Miril. Now it's time for Doctor Chelli Aphra to get her life back on track…. Writer: Alyssa Wong Artist: Minkyu Jung Letterer: Joe Caramagna Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg Cover artist: Rachael Stott Editor: Mark Paniccia Publication date: May 3, 2023 We're finally beyond the Spark Eternal storyline, but much in the way that Jean Luc Picard never truly got over his assimilation by the Borg, so you have to believe it will be with Aphra as her similarly invasive coercion is simply too huge an event to just forget. We're with her at Mareti Base on Hiorin in the Outer Rim, and as Chelli checks the mark left behind by the Spark she walks back into a dimly lit room where Ariole Yu, Just Lucky, Magna Tolvan, Eustacia Okka, her father Korin Aphra, Detta Yao, Sana Starros and Kho Phon Farrus sit waiting. What they don't expect is Aphra to tear into them, telling them to go home, help the rebellion, whatever they want. Magna is annoyed, while Kho defends herself when accused by Aphra of risking everything to crack the secrets of the Ascendant. As Korin calms the tension somewhat, Aphra reminds them that she didn't ask them to risk their lives, to which Magna replies that no, she didn't - Sana Starros did. Frustrated, Tolvan walks away and Sana tells Chelli to go after her and apologise, and following close behind we learn that Sana orchestrated the situation so she was there with Tolvan, the two people Aphra loves the most. Magna and Chelli speak, Aphra as cutting as ever as she refuses to aplogise for their night together back in issue #39 of the orignal run of Doctor Aphra, claiming she did it to protect Manga and keep Vader away. Chelli knows Magna is leaving and wants their last memory to not be one of them fighting, but Tolvan makes it clear that the rebellion will always be her priority just as Aphra will always choose herself. [gallery link="file" size="large" columns="2" ids="143933,137924"] Back with the group, Korrin and Eustacia discuss the Shadow University while Detta and Kho tussle before kissing, the pre-emptor to the door locking as Just Lucky and Ariole walk by and have their own moment, Lucky propositioning Ariole as they too kiss. We cut to Sana and Aphra, and after explaining a thousand reasons why she should run for the hills, Sana tells Aphra she loves her and they also kiss. However, Sana then explains why she has to go, how she'd go through it all again but doesn't believe Aphra would do the same, or even tell Starros that she loves her in return, which Aphra can't do. We leave a broken Aphra as we shift location to Numidian Prime a while later and Luke Skywalker walking back to his X-Wing where R2-D2 waits. However, the droid is on his side and as Luke checks closer a cannister opens and smoke plumes out, knocking Luke unconscious as Aphra steps in looking for 'a little adventure'. This is certainly a reset, and while very little happens in the issue there's certainly plenty to ponder. Magna Tolvan has left, Detta and Kho are a couple, as are Just Lucky and Ariole. Even Korrin and Eustacia are planning to work together, but it's the love life of Aphra that drives this issue and leaving her bereft after Sana leaves (quite possibly for the events of her currently ongoing mini series) she appears to be turning her attentions back to her stock-in-trade and luring Luke into helping her achieve it. There needed to be a tonal break between the Spark Eternal storyline and whatever comes next, and again the consistent thread was everyone highlighting what a thoroughly lousy person they believe Aphra is. Of course, as a reader we can see things in Chelli

her companions cannot (especially her lack of worth, something she often states but her group clearly don't believe she means), but the trick of Alyssa Wongs writing is to in turn take us to ground level to show us how she is seen by everyone around her. On that basis, she really is a contradictory, hypocritical, complusive, manipulative 'horrible little womp rat of a person' - the trick to keeping us coming back is her friends are every bit as morally bankrupt as she is. Fascinating stuff, and with the Skywalker ending we're all geared up for the next adventure in issue 32. [amazon box="B0BWSNB7DQ"]

[fighting-these-demons]

I want to say first up that I'm Anime Only so this is to be taken with a 10lb bag of salt but this is my theory if it helps anyone that cant seem to get past the idea of adults not being around in thi story about high schoolers.

Afaik - you're allowed to drop out at the end of Middle School and start working in Japan. At 15.

The age upon entry of High School over there is typically 16 and the usual age during their last year is 18.

So culturally these teens and young adults are viewed as responsible enough to be making a living on their own but not necessarily old enough to vote to change anything systematically unless they're 18. (as of 2015. I believe the voting age before then was like 20 or something?)

On top of that, there's a current trend with the STEEP drop in population and what population is left moving to Major cities - that leaves schools all over Japan with such a small student body that they're being shut down entirely. This often causes the kids to have to go to schools much farther away.

The yakuza have beesn systematically erased in Japan for the past 2 decades as well.

So! For an author a neat way to comment on all of this while telling a cool and fun story would be:

Have a city left ignored / to rot by corrupt politicians. Swarmed by yakuza looking to hide and establish a safe haven for themselves.

The rent is low so people forced into poverty may look to start over there as a last resort not knowing that the politicians are corrupt and the city is overrun with crime.

Once they've bought in, they're in debt and can't leave - but their shops are being destroyed and their goods stolen and their lives threatened. They're given the option of "protection" from the yakuza for a fee. Common enough practice. But they don't always keep their word.

Imagine being a shop owner. As you manage to finally get established enough because customers come to your business one if the few untouched in the area. You're finally doing well. You start to catch up on bills. Then the fees hike - because you're making more money now after all, and your neighbors gave up and left. More business! Surely, they say, you can afford that much right? They start regularly increasing the fee. You're barely breaking even. You eventually can't keep up. You're on the brink of giving in and ending it all.

Meanwhile for families, the highschool has been getting increasingly unsafe with kids being poached by gangs and joing the yakuza and leaving.

The teachers and principal don't give a single shit and as a parent you're watching your kid's future go up in smoke as their grades tank. Everything is so performance based and you know that despite how bright and accomplished they were in elementary and middle school in the last city you lived- that they're being left behind. They'll never get into a good college. This leaves only minimum wage labor or if you're lucky enough to own some kind of shop - your work that you can train them in personally.

Then there's the option that probably looks best to them: the yakuza. They're practically running this town hand in hand with the politicians. They do whatever they want whenever they want. They've got drugs and girls and easy money. They've got power. If you've had your entire future beaten out of you by them: joining them starts to look pretty damn good.

Now:

An influx of orphans because the area is cheap is not uncommon. More orphanages are shutting down for the same reasons that schools are. These kids often make great and easy recruits. It seems like there's going to be an even bigger wave of crime in the city.

But wait

Might is Right is this city's mantra. These kids - the ones living here longer than a few years - have taught that to these new kids upon entry.

What No One saw coming was that a few of them would be skilled enough and observant enough to take their own High School Gangs to the Top.

The New Wave has 8 ultra strong kids that rally and organize the other weaker kids under them. They train them too. They're all getting stronger.

Suddenly you have 2 huge hives of ultra strong 16-18/19 year Olds that can beat the tar out of 25 year olds running around.

The teachers and principal (of Bofurin at least) talk to the officials who agree it isn't worth it to do anything about these huge high school gangs. They assume that most of them will probably join the yakuza anyway within the next 3 years.

They've still got to test them though so that the national government doesn't get wise to what's going on.

So the politicians and the principal come to some form of agreement:

These kids are all old enough to leave enmass anyway. Their school has always had an exceedingly high Dropout rate. If they kept the school "running" they could get paid easy money to do next to nothing and the school staff can maintain their safety - even put their skills towards much more lucrative pursuits elsewhere to return more on the easy money they're being handed.

Why not have the principal agree to give the school over to the kids? On the condition that they actually take tests and that enough of them "pass" (the results are obviously going to be doctored) to avoid raising National suspicion and falling under scrutiny. The principal agrees.

What the Politicians and Teachers and Yakuza don't know is that between these 2 High School Gangs : the leader of one of them (Bofurin) wants to metaphorically tear this city down and build something better.

The leader of Bofurin inspires these kids. These kids can't fucking move, so they're gonna grow a better world from the ground up! Right here damnit!!!!

Giving them control may or may not make things more difficult for their yakuza business partners.

Although it seems long term that Bofurin just establishes their own turf that becomes a safe zone and center for normal business like shops while the areas outside operate as normal - so not too big a problem in the grand scheme of things for now.

Still though, this is priceless to the people living in that safe zone. Their lives are forever changed for the better by these kids and young men taking control of their high school and running it so they're all in support.

That's why the bars are all on the side of town under Shishitoren control. The yakuza can still run amok on that side because Shishitoren only cares about fighting and proving who is the strongest (as of right now). They don't care about and arent focused on rebuilding and protecting their community or putting the yakuza back in line the way that Bofurin is.

Again, I'm Anime Only, but this is kind of what I assumed the backstory to be based on what context I've seen so far.

I don't have any manga info to go off of.

But when I asked myself "Where the fuck are the adults???" I started to answer myself with "Well these guys can kick the shit out of men bigger and older than them. Maybe if they kicked enough Yakuza ass to keep THEM in line then the shit teachers that were neglecting the place during Yakuza Rule gave up control to Umemiya who proved that he would wipe the floor with any Yakuza brought in to drag the student rebellion down.

Then I answered more of my questions by thinking of how it was a social commentary on all the stuff going on and how it all loops back to make sense for the message that this series seems to be trying to get across to its readers

That even if the adults in your life have failed you- you can still do your best to do good and change the world around you - that there's still hope even if you drop out - to create a better home for yourself even on the crumbling edges of our collapsing societies.

Is it realistic? Nah. But the message of hope is the focus and it uses hyperbole in a cathartic way.

And again like OP said it's a Shonen Manga. A work of fiction.

Let it be fun and interesting. Let the teenagers and teenage adults be the most powerful in their own fantasy story. Would it be so terrible?

I have seen a wild amount of people complaining about the context of Wind Breaker and how "unrealistic" it is for the characters to go to school but without any teachers or adults being shown or protecting them and... First of all, realism is not what you're going to find reading a Shonen and if you want a full-on high school experience, read another manga. It is very common to skip those details as a writer because they are not interesting in the slightest and they have confirmed multiple times that all of their grades are awful, so you won't get a silly little arc about them studying, because they directly don't. To say it is "unrealistic" is to ask for boring, pointless, plotless occurrences in a Shonen manga about fighting. Are people even hearing themselves when they complain?

But it's not only from a writer's perspective skipping what's unimportant that justifies the lack of teachers and responsible adults, but the plot itself. At first, it is confusing, but I think you only have to look a bit deeper into the cultural context of the story to understand why there aren't teachers/adults shown.

I'm around chapter 100, so I am not sure this gets explained further in the manga, but my theory as to why they behave this way is pretty simple, honestly: They are poor and in ruins, and adults with the power to change things do not care about them. Easy as that.

Whether it is real or just an exaggeration of what's actually going on, it has been shown countless times (especially in Umemiya's backstory, explaining directly how authorities don't care about the kids or anybody, really) that the whole city is made for outcasts and left to rot by the government. It is not some apocalyptic bullshit, it is stuff that happens every goddamn day in real life. They go to school but they aren't shown studying and the place itself is a mess. We only see Umemiya running the school but it is confirmed that there's staff and somebody grading them somehow, despite never being shown studying or doing anything other than patrolling. But they have shown us that the city used to be extremely problematic and chaotic and only recently have things started to change for the better. Most villains and even main characters are orphans and live on their own. There's a whole arc about a group of kids being left to rot in poverty without any means to study or live a normal life. Even our main character lives on his own in a horrendous apartment. Like--

I believe you have to be blind to not see that, if this isn't just literally some people turning their backs against poor kids in a place in ruins, it is at least an exaggeration of these things happening in real life. Because they could have classes and teachers and everything you want in the manga to make it more realistic, but this is, after all, from the perspective of teenagers who can't rely on anybody but themselves. There's only so much a teacher can do, and we know most of them do nothing for these kids. So if it is "unrealistic" perhaps you aren't aware of what damn hyperboles and metaphors are, but this is from the students' points of view, and when you live in a place like this, it doesn't matter how many teachers there are or police, because they won't help. So they are directly erased from the story to be replaced with Sakura's point of view of Umemiya running the whole place.

So I think that instead of looking for realistic interpretations of their high school experience, perhaps you should empathize a little with the actual real high school experiences of people like them.

[icarusdiesatdawn]

I still think dele and smoking are wildly underappreciated shows. At least as far as I can tell by the lack of content on here I don't think many people have seen them. They are so good though!

[theoriesbrainrot]

The similarities of Todoroki Touya and Bakugou Katsuki

In many ways, Todoroki Touya and Bakugou Katsuki are similar people. Not just through their quirks, but also by personality. Both of them were cheerful but ambitious boys with a great deal of insecurities surrounding their self worth. Both of these boys were told they had the perfect quirk, only to be thrown away when they were no longer perfect.

The difference is the timing and severity to which this process happened. For Katsuki, he was told he was perfect throughout his childhood until he came to UA. However, this was never enough to make him truly confident in himself. Deep down, he knew they were praising his quirk, not him. Therefore, as he got older he gained a very shallow understanding of love and compassion. When he finally entered UA, suddenly his former position went up in smoke and he was given a rude awakening in the form of the kidnapping. As we saw in Deku's fight with him, this fall from grace caused a complete mental breakdown on Katsuki's part. Everything he believed to be true had now been called into question thanks to these events. When Katsuki is hurting emotionally, he has a habit of seeking out fights and training to the point of hurting himself. There's one other character who took a similar fall from grace and had a similar reaction: Touya. Touya was in denial the day he became imperfect, much the same way Katsuki denied no longer being number one. Both started training obsessively, to the point of willfully hurting themselves in order to win. With Katsuki, this aspect is harder to see. However, he blatantly tells All Might that "he'll break himself" in order to win. However, not only were Touya and Katsuki dealing with these issues, they were also feeling the pressure at school too. We saw clearly in the manga that Katsuki was under pressure to be perfect due to everyone wanting to be a hero. We also learn in a flashback that Touya was facing similar problems, unable to stop thinking about heroes due to his friends discussing them constantly. When people only praise a child for a specific talent that they have, those children often grow up with self worth issues. They typically have superiority complexes that are caused by low self esteem, as paradoxical as that seems. Due to insecurity, kids like this feel a need to reaffirm their self worth, often aggressively the more bad things happen. Along with this, they often value and rank people by the same metric they themselves were subjected to. In order to move past this problem, these people often have to learn to stop valuing themselves and others based on one specific attribute. We see this happen with Bakugou Katsuki. As he learns to value other people in a healthy way, his own extreme views begin to lessen. This contrasts sharply with Touya's views, which only worsen and become more twisted as time passes by. While he's never stated or treated as such, I believe Bakugou Katsuki's ideal villain counterpart is Dabi. They make excellent character foils to one another, and are driven by a very similar "victory at all costs" mindset. Both of them were ultimately talented kids who had to find a new way to survive when their best stopped being good enough.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Yu Yu Hakusho offers one of the best portrayals of Feminine Based Badassery. You cannot change my mind.

Like they may not be as physically/spiritually/magically as powerful as the main male team.

Shiori treated her child with such love and kindness that she literally had a Millenia old Trickster Demon willing to give his life for her. She was so generally human and good to other people that she made a demon renouned for his self preservation to willingly give it all up for her…. And she didn’t even have ulterior motives.

Keiko can have some questionable moments (i dislike how anime makes female physical violence against their male love interest seem normal)…. But for the 90’s, she was a rather unique female love interest, she didn’t just wave her boy off to war and wait around at home. She tried.

Shizuru was one of my first female crushes. Her smoky English voice dub was urgh. Her willing to defend her girls at the Dark Tournament despite only just meeting some of them? Amazing. Just a generally awesome woman.

Yukina might seem sort of Damsel ish. But she is still recovering from an extended amount of trauma soo

Yu Yu Hakusho is one of those rare shows where there's not a single female character I hate.

Even Atsuko, Yusuke's mom, doesn't garner my outright hatred like so many shounen parents do. She's an 28 year old alcoholic (who gave birth to Yusuke at 14 so there's a lot being implied there) and is not the best of mothers but she legit loves Yusuke and wants the best for him and it's obvious. She rags on Yusuke but it's because she wants him to be better than her, not because she thinks he's worthless. The way she absolutely breaks down at his funeral? Perfect. She's also much more present in the manga unlike in the anime which ended up being her true saving grace in my eyes.

Botan is delightful and bubbly but also strong in her own way. She shows her determination and strength over the series as well as her pride in her job.

And like, yeah Keiko has her issues but most of them can be legit chalked up to her being young and overwhelmed and even then she's still a little badass with the way she sticks with Yusuke and accepts him and what his life has become.

And Shizuru? Ooohhhh Shizuru. Love her so much and seeing her character honestly explains so much about Kuwabara. She's a beautician who wears traditionally masculine clothes but is still feminine. She smokes, she's a bit rough around the edges and cynical, but she's also protective and willing to fight for others and what she believes in.

Yukina? Baby girl was just as strong as Hiei but in the opposite direction. She left her home to find her twin brother, endured brutal torture, and still stayed so kind and helpful.

Just, there's a reason YYH is one of the greats.

[athyathye]

Some scenarios that I think would happen if you were dating them

(Chifuyu, Hanma, Izana and Draken)

Author's note 📝: kekeke~

Warnings ⚠️: Profanities, slight violence or mentions of a stalker in Izana's part and more.

Chifuyu :

❥ Skipping school with him just to laze around in his room with his cat stealing all his attention wasn’t really worth it. But hey, cute boy cuddling with a cute cat? That’s something that could top even the covers on magazines. “You having fun there?” You asked from his bed, reading one of the romance mangas he had given you. “Awwe come on~ Don’t be like that! You know I love you~” He cooed, acting like how a boyfriend portrayed on TV would. You could tell he still wasn’t used to all the dating stuff as he had a quite noticeable blush on his face. “Inviting me to skip school with you just for this...I’m really gonna get scolded at home….I might have to break up with you because of that.” You walked towards where he was laying at, enjoying the sudden panic-stricken gaze he had once he heard you. “What should I do when that happens?” You squatted down to meet his face, your hands positioning right beside his head as you leaned down. “...you’re not planning on breaking up with me are you?” “What if I am?” Chifuyu stared at you with an unreadable gaze, his hand coming to your chin, gripping it with such delicacy. “I won’t allow it…” that was all he said before pulling your face down to meet your lips with his. Admiring the soft blush he had whenever your lips locked, you smiled through the kiss. A few seconds passed before you broke off with a sly grin on your face. “Then stop making me skip school.”

Hanma :

❥ Having the Hanma Shuji as your boyfriend was hard. Having to endure many days without contact with him as well as the many threats that came along with him, it was a surprise to many that you were still with him. Though Hanma knew better than anyone how lucky he was to still have you by his side. He showed it by making sure you were happy and making sure you spent a lot of time with him in his free time, or just whenever he deemed he could take you with him on gang activities without the possibility of you getting harmed. Which leads us to this predicament, sitting boredly by his motorcycle as he talked to the lower members of the gang with a smirk and cigarette on his hands. “You get me? No? Sounds like a you problem.” He finally finished talking to them, as he turned around he met your eyes that showed just how vexed you were by the fact that he brought you along just as some decoration or something. “Why you looking at me like that?” he asked, sounding amused as he looked down on you from where you were sitting. He leaned just so he could blow smoke on your face which made you squint. “If your cigarette burns me, I’ll kill ya’.” “That’s fair~” “You won’t be getting kisses from me either if your breath smells like smoke.” “Now that’s foul! How dare you!”

Izana :

❥  To count how many times you’ve gone through near death experiences, would be something you weren’t interested in. More so because you’d rather wonder just how many times Izana has cheated death on your behalf. You were pretty sure if it weren’t for him you’d have already met your demise years ago. Though sometimes...you were kind of unnerved from how he knew something bad was about to happen to you. His only explanations would be that he ‘sensed something bad was about to happen, so I ran straight to where I thought you’d be’. You shook it off of course, believing it as he had never lied to you before, and because his intentions were always good. And you really should be thankful he knew when and where to come at times like these. Being chased around by an unknown man, a stalker if you will, that you could only guess based on the knife he held that he wanted bad things to happen to you. “Izana” You mumbled in fear, hiding behind a street lamp as you tried to conceal any other noises that you could unconsciously let out. That was when you heard the loud sound of an object being hurled and hitting something, hitting a person to be exact. You heard continuous thumps before a hand was placed over your shoulder which caused you to squeal in surprise. “Hey...It’s me. It’s fine now...as long as I’m here, you’ve got nothing to fear.”

Draken :

❥ It was a sight to see the big bad Draken wearing an adorable-looking pastel sweater while beating up random thugs that provoked him. Mikey had to stuff his face with his snacks to keep him from laughing and further angering the already annoyed Draken who looked to be standing on his last leg. “Even if you try not to, I can still see very well the laugh you’re trying to hold Mitsuya.” Draken uttered as he crossed his arms, leading Mitsuya to reply with a chuckled “Aw, Don’t be like that. It makes me want to laugh more- I mean, it doesn’t suit the look you’re going for.” That was apparently the last straw for Mikey and the others as they looked away, trembling as Mikey laughed to his heart’s content. “Well don’t you look manly ken-chin!!!” he spoke in between laughters as he pointed to the ‘ready to murder everyone’ look Draken had. “You really look like a rejected pony from a 5 year old’s imagination” He commented once more which led to the others to bend down, trying their damndest not to laugh. Mikey grabbed Draken’s braid and continuously played with it “Right Horsey-” That was all he could speak before getting grabbed and thrown like a ragdoll. “Mikey!” The others shouted in slight worry as they immediately ran to where their leader was, hoping to escape the fiery Draken. Welp, the things he does to keep you happy and satisfied, he sighed through his nose, using his hand to cover the slight smile on his face.

[filipinoizukuu]

class 1-a hcs based on science and shit: part 1

u cant tell me any of these characters smell completely normal. or good in a way u can make candles out of them. this is my hc list and i am RUNNING with it. @emogaeness this 1's for u, my dude

Aoyama: one of the only 'normal' smelling ones. he defs uses french parfum but also he probably smells like heated metal and cheese all the time. Energy doesnt really have a smell til it interacts with gas so i think he probably just smells like however he wants to.

Mina: IM SORRY TO SAY BUT MISS MAAM IS STINKY AS HECK. mina is an acid producer and therefore smells acidic--and going by what we know of acid, she smells PUNGENT. dairy-like but also sour. BUT her body is probably evolved to be antacidic and she's a gymnast. after reading like, 2 research papers, gymansts chalk (magnesium carbonate) neutralizes acids (caus its 10.5 ph) and so i think while she does kinda smell, it wouldnt be AS bad even if she's training. its possible for her to wear perfume if she wanted, since usually they're around the 7 pH range.

Tsuyu: Oh. wet grass. and just. damp. she probably smells like marshlands or just nature in general, because thats part of camouflage. she probably also has an underlying sweet scent from venom? idk. on the normal she'd probably just smell neutral if a little musty.

Iida: ok i had to wiki this but i dont think he smells like much? he faintly smells like exhaust--but when he overuses his quirk and inevitably combusts whatever engines he uses, the chemical reaction creates sulfur which would make him smell like rotten eggs. otherwise he smells like orange juice (his choice of 'fuel'), sweat, and cologne.

Uraraka: I think she just smells like mochi lol. gravity doesnt really alter her body so i think ochako's normal--if a bit sweet bc she generally seems to like sweet stuff in canon

Ojiro: OK HES JUST GOT A WEIRD LUMP OF FLESH ON HIS BACK FOR A TAIL THO LIKE?? IDK HE SMELLS NORMAL?? maybe a bit like spray-on shampoo and deodorant, but that's it. does a third limb of pure muscle smell like anything? no? godspeed, mashirao, godspeed.

Kaminari: he smells like ozone. He's probably crazy static since he generates the electricity inside of him constantly and is canonically a terrific electricity conduit, so unlike aoyama he'd definitely smell like frying electricity. also. (minor manga spoilers) he bathes enough to be able to call midoriya stinky, so he definitely has basic hygiene. other than that i think he smells like sweaty leather bc of his hero costume and candy.

Kirishima: not quirk related but he probably just smells like sweat. and like, meat. maybe dirt. i love this boy but i'm also a sheeple bc i believe in the hc that he smells like axe body spray. and really good conditioner bc of how fucked up his hair would be by now if he wasn't taking very good care of it.

Kouda: smells like animals. like. bunnies and hamsters and birds and stuff. its not bad per se, but he definitely smells like he's constantly hanging out with the city's local rodent and avian population. other than that he probably just smells neutral/like nothing, since that's more approachable to the prey animals that he seems to favor.

Satou: baked goods and candy.

Shouji: I think Shouji is probably the most hygiene-conscious of all the kids in 1-A. Because of the amount of open/accessible body parts like eyes, nose, ears on his limbs--he probably takes very good care in showering and all that stuff to prevent random infections or just generally damaging any of his senses. Dude's chill--smells like mild soap and laundry detergent.

Jirou: Ah, not gonna lie she probably smells a bit like burnt electrical wires. She's a bit like Kaminari in terms of smell, except her's have that more 'metallic' and burning sharpness whenever she uses the stunning part of her quirk. Other than that... probably also leather because of her hero costume, or just like the inside of an instrument shop (wood, ivory, brass, etc.)

Sero: Packaging type. you know when you pull like, a large strip of tape and--? yeah? that. smells like tack. other than that, excellent hygiene! bergamot and pine or whatever.

Tokoyami: he smells like bird, but only faintly. dude mostly smells a little musty caus he probably never airs out his room. Dark shadow is described like "dark energy" which, similar to aoyama, kaminari, and jirou, probably makes the air around him smell different bc thats gas interacting with energy. Aside from that, he most likely smells neutral. (... maybe with a bit of leather and metal because thats just how his fashion probably works)

Todoroki: Sweat, but not like, a lot. He definitely doesn't smell bad after battles because steam kills bacteria like, fairly effectively, and would eliminate most foul odors. I think he'd smell like Expensive herbal soap or whatever most of the time. He doesn't seem like the type to be unhygienic.

Hagakure: ????? fuck dude she probably tries her best to smell like nothing, caus if her whole schtick is being invisible then its probably best if she just smelt like nothing. imagine being a villain and then promptly getting kicked in the nuts by a gust of wind that smells like strawberry peach.

Mineta: i cant explain it but just... warm grape juice. his... orbs. have oily/sticky like substances to act as adhesive and ill be damned before u tell me he doesn't smell like anything even remotely artificial-grape-flavoring adjacent. he also smells of like,, axe body spray but stronger.

Yaoyorozu: herbal tea on a normal day. most likely the digestive kind just because i think thats the most practical tea to have with a quirk like hers thats reliant on eating large quantities of food. other than that, i think she smells like basic weaponry-grade materials like iron, polished wood, copper, and gunpowder.

Bakugou: stinky boy. canonically, his hygiene's great but that's likely for a reason. he sweats a lot and excessively, and while his sweat is described as 'nitroglycerine-like' it doesn't mean it smells like caramel. the common description for nitroglycerine according to the brittanica encyclopedia is that it's toxic and has a 'sweet, burning taste'. the sweet scent is described as sharp at best--so while its totally okay if you wanna think of his sweat as caramel-like, i just wanted to clear up the misconception that thats what it factually is. ASSUMING his sweat still has a similar molecular makeup to nitroglycerine and has nitric dioxide, it would smell sickly sweet, if slightly neutral due to the nature of sweat itself being odorless when clean. other than that? bkg is definitely just a smelly, smelly boy. smells like sun and smoke and teenage body odor and burnt plastic.

Midoriya: SMELLY STINKY. deku sweats like, a lot. not only does ofa expend a ridiculous amount of energy and probably strains his muscles like crazy (forcing him to expel all that lactic acid in the form of sweat), but he also spends a lot of time just outside in general. science slightly aside, deku smells a lot like grass and dirt and just,,, the outdoors in general. he, like kaminari, smells very strongly of ozone (clean, chlorine-like) because of the sheer amount of energy output OfA has. Not expounding past the manga, Black Whip is described as a quirk that produces tendrils of pure black energy. This probably creates the same effect/smell as an area struck by lightning.