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mobius-prime · 4 years

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285. Sonic Universe #12

Knuckles: The Return (Part 4 of 4): Echoes of the Past (Part Four)

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

Things are certainly dire, as both teams of heroes (minus Julie-Su and Ray, still up on Angel Island) have been captured by Finitevus and the local Dark Egg Legion chapter. Finitevus gloats about how well his plan has gone, that he found the Legion when he was investigating the very same ruins that had Knuckles so confused, and from there orchestrated an alliance between himself and them, so they could capture Angel Island for Eggman/the Iron Queen's regime and Finitevus could study the Master Emerald at his leisure. After monologuing a bit at the furious Knuckles, he takes his leave to go oversee Angel Island being reeled back into the Great Crater, something which… really should be more stunning to everyone involved, if you ask me. I mean, literally the past several centuries of echidna history have been irrevocably shaped by exactly this concept, returning the island to the planet's surface. Dimitri did his whole godhood insanity thing entirely because people didn't agree with his plan to set this in motion, and perhaps even more importantly, his plan was shown to have failed in an alternate timeline, causing the island to crash into the earth and kill everyone on it. Apparently, this entire time they shoulda just been using regular ol' chains to do the job! Imagine after so many hundreds of years of this being an issue, Finitevus really did just accomplish the task with some random chains. But anyway, Finitevus leaves the prisoners to the overwatch of Bill, who so far hasn't said a word during Finitevus' speech despite his former friends being among the imprisoned.

Oh no! Whatever horrible tortures are about to befall our heroes? The torture of having their shackles fall off harmlessly, as it turns out. Yeah, of course Bill didn't just turn evil for no reason! Though he does appear to have some beef with Vector, remarking angrily that he'd have preferred if Vector stayed chained up. Man, what in the world did Vector do in the past that pissed off so many people? Barby demands an explanation, with her dialogue vaguely hinting that she and Bill were possibly involved romantically, so Bill explains that several months ago when Eggman began pushing in this region, the other platypuses decided they wanted a little taste of that power and began demanding to join up. Bill couldn't talk them down, so instead, he went to Eggman and voluntarily joined his cause, becoming outfitted with cybernetics along with the other platypuses, hoping to manage the situation from within. Apparently he never found a chance to tell his former teammates that he wasn't actually evil after all, but he's been doing his best to mismanage the campaign in Downunda without seeming too suspicious. Everyone is pleased and relieved, and he urges them to quickly make their escape so he can play it off as having been overpowered while separated from his backup. Thrash happily obliges, and reveals his own special power - yelling so loudly that it can break down doors. The fight against the Legion in the crater quickly commences, but Walt encourages Knuckles to head back to his island while they carry on the fight here on the ground. Vector can't see a way to get back up without their warp ring, but Mighty apparently has an idea of his own.

I just need everyone here to remember that according to canon measurements, this island floats forty-three miles (69 km) in the sky. Yes, I realize that's only the case because Penders didn't create his units of measurements with sanity in mind. No, that does not mean I'm ever letting this fact go. It's also worth noting that this entire arc portrays the crater as not looking much bigger than like, a mile across at the most, but the island is forty-seven miles (75 km) across at its narrowest. I mean, we already knew that no one pays attention to matters of scale in these comics, but still, I notice, and it bugs me to no end. Consistency, people!

Anyway, Mighty tosses Knuckles alllll the way up to the island, as the fight continues to rage on the ground, and he hops up over the edge just as Finitevus is about to put his grubby hands on the Master Emerald. No sign of Julie-Su or Ray anywhere, huh? Knuckles is immediately ready for a fight, but Finitevus tries to talk him down, actually apologizing for forcing him into the role of Enerjak before. Knuckles still isn't buying it, but then Finitevus hits him with the bug guns - Dimitri actually wasn't the first Enerjak. Finitevus claims to know everything about the echidnas' history, the fact that Enerjak goes back much further in their history, the true history of Albion, the origins of the mysterious ruins in the desert, even some secret about Aurora and how she may not even be a real goddess. Knuckles is clearly torn for a split second, because damn are those some juicy-sounding secrets, but he's shaken back to reality when Finitevus tries to pull the "We're two of a kind, you and I" trick and promises, if he joins him, to give him "anything he wants." And what does Knuckles want?

Finitevus is not amused by Knuckles' defiance, and turns the fight around on him while mocking his childish desires. Hilariously, he actually does the cool-guy thing of catching Knuckles' punch in his own hand, which seems badass until you realize we're talking about the guy with spikes on his fists. I can only assume Ian forgot this little detail, or else the rest of this issue would just be Finitevus yelling in agony at the two brand-new holes that had been punched into the palm of his hand. Knuckles powers up with the energy of the nearby Master Emerald, while Finitevus summons his… I dunno, dark black evil-guy energy or whatever, and they go head to head, Knuckles reciting Tikal's prayer for strength, while Finitevus puts a new twist on the same chant.

I actually don't get Ian's fascination with Tikal's prayer at all. It's always recited verbatim from the version of it in Sonic Adventure, but personally, I always felt like it was strangely translated in that game, not really making a ton of grammatical sense, or any real sense at all, really. I mean, the chant was originally just supposed to describe the relationship between the Master Emerald and the Chaos Emeralds, but that's not relevant at all in this universe given the vastly different origins of both - the Master Emerald in the comics isn't a direct counter to the Chaos Emeralds like in the games, but one giant Chaos Emerald itself. I dunno, maybe this is just a nitpick, but it still confuses me.

Finitevus is impressed by Knuckles' display of raw power, but decides to end the fight quickly, and pulls out one of his warp rings, encircling it around Knuckles midsection and happily threatening to close it while Knuckles is still only halfway through. However, at that moment Julie-Su finally makes her entrance and shoots Finitevus in the shoulder, distracting him long enough for Knuckles to grab him and make good on his promise to throw him off his island. That doesn't seem like a proper solution to this threat at all, but eh, whatever, Knux is happy with it I guess. He, Julie-Su, and Ray all head back down to the crater, where the Downunda Freedom Fighters have finished running the Legion off for now, and say their goodbyes. Barby makes a remark that her father would have been proud of Vector, hinting at yet more unexplored history between him and the others, but he still refuses to explain further when Ray tries to pry. Thrash leaves through a warp ring of his own, making some odd comments about how it would be such a shame if the rest of the echidnas were to be wiped out - this guy really doesn't like echidnas for whatever reason - and with the threat settled, Knuckles and his friends finally head back onto Angel Island for some peaceful rest.

Yeah, gee Vector, I wonder why no one found a body? I mean, it's not like Finitevus has demonstrated that he can warp himself to safety mid-fall during literally the previous big battle against him or anything. Of course, he's safe and sound, and heads back to the crater once it's clear to watch the island's departure and muse to himself how his plans aren't through yet and he's ready to kill Knuckles when he next gets the chance - anything to put him closer to the Master Emerald. Let us know how your quest to off one of the comic's most popular characters goes, buddy!

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #su 12 #writer: ian flynn #pencils: tracy yardley #colors: jason jensen

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ecto-american · 5 years

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Bidding War

Challenger name: @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler

The Challenge: This year at Amity Park's yearly charity event, the committee has planned a "date auction" with the City's most eligible bachelors. Somehow, they even manage to rope Phantom in- after all, a celebrity like him is sure to win a fortune for the charities.

Rating: T

Pairings: Implied Danny/Sam, implied Danny/Dash, implied Danny/Paulina, implied Danny/Tucker

Word Count: 3259

Warnings: None

Other Notes: This is for the Phantom Phic Phight contest and I’m so sorry this is unedited NONSENSE I’m just tired of nitpicking at it my APOLOGIES to fabnames oaisfh

“Danny, this is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s just a charity bachelor auction,” he repeated himself for what felt like the millionth time. He was looking in the mirror at himself in his old room. The halfa glanced over at his sister, who was sitting on his old bed. Her hair was already styled very formally, make-up done and dressed in a nice dark teal dress. “Do you know anything about tying bow-ties?” Jazz sighed.

“No,” she admitted. Danny shrugged and put the bowtie into an inner pocket of the tux. “Danny, you’re going to get seriously hurt. I don’t think you should do this.”

“Come on, Jazz, even Sam’s on board,” he argued. He studied his reflection. Jazz had cut his hair for him a few days ago, so it looked presentable, and it was styled neatly. Snow white hair was contrasting the black tux, and in a sense, he looked as he usually did when in his Phantom form. “And Vlad’s already agreed to help take precautionary measures. I’m not afraid of ghosts, why would I be afraid of a few fans?”

“Can you really trust Vlad though?” Jazz wondered. She stood up, going over to stand with him in front of the mirror. The graduate student was now just an inch shorter than her brother. She leaned in to check her eyeliner.

“Vlad’s…different now, I think,” Danny said slowly as his mind raced back to the memories of the past few years. “But if nothing else, I doubt he’d want me to ruin his big Christmas charity event.”

“Just, be on your toes,” Jazz told him. “I’ll keep a thermos in my purse.” Danny patted his tux.

“I got one too,” he replied confidently. “Do you have your Fenton lipstick?” She nodded. Danny beamed at her.

“I’ll see you there then,” he said, taking a deep sigh.

The Christmas Charity Party that Vlad had hosted ever since his first mayoral election. Every year, there was a publicity stunt done to raise money for charity. Well, multiple. Every year there was a gingerbread decorating contest, snowball fights, the usual. But then there was always the big event. And this year…

“Mr. Phantom, it’s so fantastic to see you here!” Lance Thunder chirped, holding a microphone up as a camera crew filmed the party. Just like every year. Danny smiled politely at him. He had barely stepped foot in the door when the reporter began bulldozing through the crowds towards him. “May I ask what made you decide to participate in the auction?” He desperately held his mic out to Danny as he finally came within two feet of him.

“It felt like a great opportunity to participate in the charity event,” he explained. “So when Mayor Masters asked for volunteers, of course I signed up.”

“And your girlfriend doesn’t mind?” Lance questioned. The cameraman had properly caught up and was rolling, and Danny shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t have a partner at this current time,” Danny replied.

“What do you expect your winning bid number to be?” Lance wondered. Danny shrugged his shoulders.

“I hate to sound full of myself, but I hope for the sake of this event that it’s high,” Danny picked his words carefully. “I’m really hoping that we can raise a lot of money tonight. I’m also hoping that everybody stays safe.” Fuck was he saying hope too much? Christ, Fenton. Lance nodded.

“Of course, with the bachelors available, our news team is expecting this to be the best year for this Christmas Charity event,” Lance replied. Danny raised an eyebrow and gave a small noise of pretend interest.

“I really hope so,” he replied. Use! A! Word! Other! Than! Hope! “Uh, I need to check in and get my auction number. Have a good evening, Mr. Thunder.” Danny extended his hand out for a friendly handshake, which Lance eagerly took. The reporter began to direct his attention to somebody else.

Danny began to wade through the crowd with surprisingly less stares than he was fearing. He made his way to a table with a sign announcing the bachelor sign in, and he smiled happily at a friendly face. Sam’s bored mood seemed to cheer up as she saw her friend, and she broke into a grin.

“Hey, Danny,” she chirped. Her elbows were on the table, head resting on the back of her hands as she held a pen in her hand. Danny felt his heart warm.

Sam was dressed up for the event in black and dark purple, hair that had grown so much since their freshman year of high school so long ago neatly braided. She had grown a lot actually. Even though they attended different schools, Danny always believed that it made them closer still. He cherished what time they spent together when both were home from college on holiday break, like now. He had yet to really even properly spend time with her since he had gotten home, and he felt a dull, annoyed ache over that.

“Hey, Sam,” he replied as he got to the table. He put his hands down on it, leaning casually. “Boring night already?” She snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, a bit, but once all the bachelors are checked in, I’m free to come hang out with you,” she told him. Danny felt eyes on him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar face looking at him. Dash was staring at him with awe. Sam glanced over at Dash too. “You already need rescuing?” she teased. Danny flushed.

“Nah, I’m good,” he replied. He turned his attention back to her.

“Maybe I’ll just buy you at the auction and save you a bunch of trouble,” Sam teased before giving a nervous giggle. Danny felt himself give out an awkward chortle as well, his cheeks flushing green. “Sign in, clueless,” Sam continued, handing him the pen.

Danny smiled as he took the pen and signed his name next to his printed one on the form, and he got a pin. Bachelor Number 42. Danny had begged Vlad to put him as 42 on the list specifically for the number.

“Thanks,” he replied, and he put the pin on. Sam stood up, leaning forward to help him pin it on. Once it was pinned, she lightly patted it.

“Looking fly,” she grinned.

Danny smiled, saluting her with two fingers as he began to back up.

“Sam?” he spoke, and she raised an eyebrow curiously. “We really should hang out later. I miss you.” She burned red, but nodded in agreement, making the motion that she’d call him later.

Danny turned and took a few steps before realizing Dash was still staring at him. Dash had changed a lot since high school, since Danny had last talked to him outside of Facebook. The ex-bully had even delivered a proper apology that Danny never expected or believed he’d get. They weren’t really friends, but they were more friendly. Dash had become more friendly and nicer. Better to be around. They talked on and off on Facebook about the Packers.

Danny found himself giving an awkward wave before feeling an excited yet anxious stomach turn when the other took that as an invitation. He quickly came over to the halfa.

“Danny Phantom!” he quietly exclaimed, happily holding his hand out. Danny smiled, taking his hand. Dash gripped it tightly, his other hand happily clasping on his upper arm. “Dude! I can’t believe you’re in the auction! I’m totally bidding on you!” Danny’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. Somebody was super eager to bid on him? Already? And it was Dash?

“Oh, awesome!” Danny replied happily, gripping the handshake in return. He didn’t really feel uncomfortable by the touching. Dash was always super friendly to him, and it was...oddly nice to be around people who didn’t want to punch him. “I look forward to seeing if you win.” Dash beamed, and Danny smiled back.

“I can’t wait to go flying with you and have dinner!” What? Oh, right. The date Danny had promised on his application was going for a flight and having dinner. In that specific order. He had learned from Tucker to do that specific order to avoid having to make a trash can pit stop to throw up.

“Yeah, that’s what the app says, but we can always make adjustments if that’s too mushy,” Danny promised. Dash’s cheeks flushed a bit red, and he finally let go of Danny’s hand.

“Uh, actually,” he began, and Danny felt this odd spark of hope he hadn’t expected begin to flow through him. “I’m...I kinda like both. So I wouldn’t mind a date.” Dash quickly added, “But like, if that’s too weird for you, I-I-”

“Dude, it’s chill,” Danny held a hand up to stop him. “I swing both ways too. Lots of people do. Truth is, I don’t really care if I end up with a girl or a boy winning me. It’s all for charity.” Dash exhaled an intense sigh of relief.

“Cool,” Dash replied. “Because you’re just so cool, and I wanna get to hang out with you more, and I just,” the ex-bully began to ramble, and Danny patiently listened for a few moments. Dash soon stopped himself, and he flustered more. “Sorry for all that. I’m just excited. I’m actually getting auctioned off too.”

Danny glanced and noticed that, indeed, Dash had a bachelor pin on his tux jacket. Number 58.

“Oh dude, that’s great,” Danny spoke lightly. “If I had money, I’d def bid on you.” The words left his mouth before he could really process his own thoughts, and he was left lightly flushing green. Dash was staring at him in an awed, but excited, shock.

“Really?” he asked. Danny nodded, and he remembered a piece of advice Vlad had given him. Mingle as much as possible during the auction, to both help Phantom’s image by interacting with his fans, but to encourage people to bid on him. Vlad’s advice, only when it came to public image, had...annoyingly, failed to let Danny down yet, and so he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly.

“I need to go and socialize more,” he told him. “But it was great seeing you.” Dash was in a seemingly stunned silence, and he nodded as Danny quickly made his exit.

No sooner than he took a few steps that a familiar voice called out to him.

“Ghost boy!”

Danny turned to see Paulina eagerly going up to him, and despite being Phantom, he could feel Fenton’s heart skip. She looked beautiful, in a dress that complimented her perfectly with finely done make-up and hair mostly up. She smiled a dazzling smile at him, and he instantly felt weak.

“Hey Paulina,” he greeted her eagerly, and her eyes seemingly sparkled in excitement.

“You remembered me!” she said happily, and she clutched her hands together at her chest.

“Of course, I could never forget my biggest fan,” he replied. She stared at him for a moment before giving a light frown.

“Where’s your bow-tie?” she asked, pointing to his shirt. Danny flushed, putting his hand to his throat.

“Oh, I didn’t know how to tie one,” he admitted. Paulina hummed.

“Do you have it with you? I can tie it for you,” she offered.

“Oh, yeah!” Danny immediately began to pat himself down as he tried to remember which pocket his bow-tie was in. He soon produced it, and he handed it to her. She gestured for him to lean over a bit, and he did. She slipped the bow-tie around his neck and began to expertly tie it with practiced ease. “How have you been?”

“Great!” she replied warmly. “I’m on the dean’s list at my school, and I’m on track to graduate a semester early. How have you been?” He had forgotten that she too had gone to college. For chemistry, of all things. Danny had always been on Sam’s side in assuming that she did terribly in high school. Apparently, that’s just what she wanted her classmates to think.

“Good,” he gave the social answer. Truthfully, it really wasn’t, but when had his life ever been such a way? Not since the accident. He accidentally locked eyes with Paulina. She looked unusually serious.

“Danny, how have you been?” she asked, her voice more gentle about it. Danny felt a bit of a mental whiplash. She rarely called him Danny, and his voice got caught in his throat. He coughed awkwardly.

“It’s...been a bit rough,” he said slowly. She nodded understandingly. She finished tying the bowtie, and she carefully pressed his collar.

“You’ll get through it like you always do,” she told him confidently. “I believe in you. I always have, and I always will.” Danny felt his cheeks turn green as he stood up straight. This was going to be a trend, it seemed.

“Thank you,” he told her. “I hope you can graduate soon. I miss seeing you around Amity Park,” he told her honestly. Paulina laughed.

“I keep up with you on the news,” she confessed. “And I’ll be seeing you when I win the auction.” Danny nodded. A date with Paulina sounded magical, he couldn’t lie.

“I look forward to it if that’s the case,” he replied. He remembered what Vlad had told him. Socialize, and he reluctantly continued, “I’ll let you mingle with others. I hope to see you again soon.” Paulina nodded understandingly.

“I’ll see you at our date, Danny!” she replied confidently.

“Dude, you’re on fire.”

Finally, a voice he actually really wanted to hear. Tucker had found him, and he looked great in his tux. Instead of a white shirt, he had opted for a dark orange shirt underneath. It suited him perfectly.

“Hey!” Danny eagerly greeted him, and the two immediately fist bumped happily. “You look great! You should have signed up to be a bachelor.” Tucker chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I regret it, but I was dating Mia at the time,” he reminded his friend. “She wouldn’t have been cool with it. In hindsight, probably a sign.” Danny just shrugged sympathetically.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Danny told him. “I already ran into Sam, Dash, Paulina, and damn. That’s not even counting Lance Thunder. I know Harriet Chin’s around somewhere too.” Tucker gave a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s quite the roster,” he said.

“Honestly, it wasn’t so bad. Especially since I know there’s friendly faces like you here,” Danny commented. Tucker chuckled.

“Do I need to bid on you to free you from your torment?” Tucker teased. Danny laughed.

“I already joked to Sam that she should, but man, we’d probably have a lot of fun,” Danny admitted. Tucker snickered.

“Wait until my birthday so you can truly wine and dine me,” he joked. Danny felt his cheeks flush a bit, but he laughed again.

“Like how last Valentine’s day we just made ourselves each other’s Valentine’s?” Danny questioned. Tucker nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, and instead of going out to eat sushi like we planned, we ordered Domino’s and did nothing but play DOOMED and get sick on bread bites.”

“Dude, I’d rather do that with you than go out on a date anytime,” Danny told him. Tucker flushed a bit in return.

“Same,” he agreed. “I love hanging out with you more than I ever did Mia.” Danny made a noise of agreement.

“Yeah! And same with you, honestly!” he chattered on excitedly. “Dude, just buy me! They’re giving me a free food coupon, so we can just buy a bunch of pizza again and pig out!”

“Dude, I can make you take me out for free, but I’ll place my bets and see how I fare,” Tucker assured him. He lightly punched his shoulder playfully. “I’ll leave you to socialize. I’m gonna go see how Sam’s surviving.”

“Catch up with me later! I really wanna hang out with you!” Danny called out after him as Tucker passed him. Tucker flashed a peace sign in response, and Danny exhaled deeply.

People were so exhausting. How could Vlad do this all the time? Danny decided to just break for some food. His eyes scanned over the options as he approached. The buffet style options had a wide range of options, from fancy looking shrimp to chicken to salads. He picked up a plate and began to serve himself some food. It was time to take advantage of all the free food.

He picked up a few pieces of food, setting it on his plate. He grabbed a drink and settled into a chair to eat. There were so many people here. He only talked to those few, but people...really wanted their chance it seemed. And it made him feel terrible for only really wanting to be with one of them. He couldn’t help it. He truly hoped that they won.

The poor halfa didn’t even get to take a bite when he was distracted by a voice, but he didn’t mind. He flashed a happy smile to the one that was already on his mind, who stood before him with their own plate of food.

“Can I join you?”

“Of course.”

Danny stood before the crowd, trying to look cheerful and confident but it was very obvious that he was anxious and nervous. He could only pray that he could mask at least part of it. Vlad lightly patted Danny’s back encouragingly, and it oddly helped ease his anxiety. The billionaire was standing on the makeshift stage, mic in hand and a stapled packet of papers in the other with the bachelor’s information on it.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is Danny Phantom,” Vlad spoke, and he began to read from his paper. “He stands at 6’3’’, and he considers himself nerdy. He’s very interested in science, specifically astrophysics and engineering. In his spare time, when he’s not fighting ghosts, he enjoys playing video games, science fiction movies and astronomy. For your date with Danny Phantom, he has promised a one of a kind dating experience in a flight through town before you two have a nice dinner at the restaurant of your choice!”

The crowd was murmuring excitedly, and Danny felt a nervous bead of sweat begin to form. This was the most information Amity Park had ever really been given about him, and he could see Lance in the corner, taking intense notes. Other people seemed surprised at the listed hobbies of choice and interests.

“So, as part of tonight’s charity auction and due to Mr. Phantom’s popularity, I propose we begin the auction a little higher than normal, at $100,” Vlad said, and no sooner than he spoke, every hand in the audience shot up. Danny’s throat tightened.

“Oh, it looks like it’s going to be quite the contest,” Vlad lightly teased, and Danny glared at him briefly. “Do I hear $150?”

The entire bidding was a rapid blur. Danny’s head shot around as the bidding war went crazier than he could ever imagine. He began to space out.

“Anybody higher?” Vlad asked for the billionth time it seemed. “No? Going once.” Danny’s attention snapped back to reality as he scanned to see who was on the verge of winning him. “Going twice.” Danny’s chest tightened anxiously. “And sold to bidder number 113!”

Danny locked eyes with the winner, and they exchanged smiles. To his relief and joy, the person who won him was the one he had been wanting more than any other all night.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #sam manson #dash baxter #paulina sanchez #tucker foley #chose your own ship adventure lmao #phics #my phics

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sugar-petals · 6 years

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BTS: They Insist You’re Beautiful

❖ angst, fluff, hurt & comfort ❖ warnings: self-esteem issues, dieting, body dysmorphia, feels

�� Jimin

Even at the risk of embarrassment and making it worse, the shower of compliments will never cease once he senses your self-doubt. What drives Jimin is his own second-guessing that will haunt him all too frequently, be it through weight gain or just an outfit that won’t look right because “I’m ugly. No matter what I do”. Even after years of trying to fight it, those voices remain. It’s a continuous process that never really ends, which is the hardest part. He would never want to see someone else experience this feeling, not even the tiniest fraction. That’s the reason why he moves heaven and earth and won’t give up convincing you. All too soon, he realizes it’s equally difficult as his own journey because a person cannot be persuaded when there is not a spark of belief already. He has to appeal to your moral sense first and foremost and ask whether it really is so good and healthy to dislike yourself so much. You only got one life. Jimin affirms that when you find flattering things about yourself, that makes his heart beam with endless pride, even if it’s just a detail. Be it your fingers, your lashes, your legs, your smile, your hair, anything. If need be, Jimin will sit down and rack his creative brain to rewrite “Eyes Nose Lips” by Taeyang into something that mentions these aspects only to bring that song to you in a heart-wrenching delivery, dance included. You’ll have something to remember, then, each time you doubt yourself.

⟼ Tae

So perplexed, so lost. Oh, what have you said. Is it true, do you really mean it? Taehyung does not really believe it is a joke, he can tell by your tone, but he hopes in vain, he truly does. “I’m not beautiful enough” is something so harsh to say. There has to be time for himself to wrap his head around the problem because every hug and cuddle with you doesn’t seem to shoo away the heavy words you use against yourself. An idea is the only thing he can cling to, and he’ll make it reality with his old camera. Not the one he’s currently using, the other one that’s been halfway forgotten by now. There are still countless unused negatives from last summer when there was a confident phase, a time when you would not hold yourself to a standard but instead felt carefree and preoccupied, too busy to mind your body, and happy to be on vacation with him. The pictures are casual and seem so far away. In an obsessive bout, Taehyung will glue it all together seemingly at random, but from the chaos emerges the image of your face as a giant collage. There’s pictures forming ears, forehead, cheeks, eyes, everything. Taehyung signs it without further words but a purple heart at the bottom right corner, and gifts it to you when you least expect it. What he has created may be difficult to understand at first, but later you get why he put all these images together. It means that every part of you is important for your identity to be content in life, and vice versa, that each content moment constitutes your beauty and not the sad times.

⟼ Jin

Especially with Jin, hating yourself and finding flaws to tear yourself apart about is more than a capital offense. Daresay you’re worthless and not quite the eye candy everyone else thinks you are, he’s gonna be so up in arms like the Queen of England when she’s in her “not amused” kind of mood. But still, his reaction is not as you had expected when you nitpick your outfit for the tenth time. You anticipated him trying to persuade you otherwise by all means. Instead, he sits down with you to talk it out with a cup of tea and a not-so-tense atmosphere even if the topic is a fairly important one. Self-worth and dating Jin, that interlinks, it’s a big deal. What he’ll do is empathize and tell you when he felt the same. Which you vehemently deny, how could he put himself down like that so much, what a shame! He’s Jin! “See... and this is what I thought when you called yourself ugly.” You’re quite taken aback and need some time to process it. That’s a shocker. And maybe even reassuring if it didn’t hurt so much knowing you let yourself down. It’s not about you being eye candy for others or yourself in the first place. It’s about how much value you realize you have. Heck, there are legislations on this earth whose first law describes how untouchable human dignity and worth is. Jin won’t let your melodramatic ass break the law like a bandit in the bank of self-love and legit get away with the self-hate money. That, in the house of Kim, is illegal.

⟼ Yoongi

It’s more than hard to bear for him. If he could manage that, there would be no mirrors in your home or the entire path you walk in a day. Not a single one. Yoongi would paint, veil, remove, shatter all of them just to prevent you from sizing yourself up and starting to scrutinize every time, be it in gaze — you thought he couldn’t tell? he knows how it is — or in words. Especially that glance he is all too familiar with is something that he can’t handle. When you look down at your body to find things you would want to remove or replace. You wish you could be someone else entirely that by now you cannot measure up to, so it’s tough to be stuck in this inferior body, like a prison with no windows and regular food. There’s nothing more hurtful than to see a loved one fall apart when they compare and criticize themselves into a state where it’s not even sad anymore, just dull and a bottomless pit of feeling completely devoid of hope. To the point where your daily life feels that way, too. He will NEVER permit that you will feel emprisoned like this. There is always hope and he will rap and write it out for you until you realize that he appreciates you for everything you are, including each inch of surface no matter how tortured or deprecated or shamed or rejected it may be. Yoongi will reassure you that there’s no need to look a certain way. Who is he to judge. He doesn’t own you. And he didn’t want to get to know you because you were somebody else, or wanted to be that elusive role model in the first place.

⟼ Hoseok

“Oh... come on now, you didn’t see yourself, did you?” Disparaged as your body feels to you, you will not see how much effort he puts into demonstrating that he really accepts you without condition. The conviction that a boyfriend must stick up and really state the case makes Hoseok really want to encourage you to the best of his abilities. Hell, even if he cannot fully eradicate the put-downs he sees in your eyes when you look at yourself or take a picture and delete it right away, or when you throw on layers and layers of makeup because you can’t stand your skin and the shape of your eyelids and the way your eyebrows curve, and spots here and there and everywhere. It’s a fight. Hoseok has to admit that he himself loves makeup to correct and hide things, and not to amplify and ‘highlight’ features like the stylists say with their practiced smiles. It is, after all, a mask, made up. Before he can support you, first he realizes that he has to work on and examine his own values and shortcomings so he can give you the right kind of attention in return, without an all too easy hipocrisy and condescension, something that really makes your heart full of love. That he tries to change himself so heavily and put on ridiculous clothes to get a reaction from others serves as a warning to him. Hoseok knows how the opinions of others can puppeteer someone. He’ll make you get that you can believe him, that he sees you as beautiful and even if he didn’t, that is what you are. Doesn’t he look at you more genuinely and adoringly when you wipe off the foundation and eye shadow?

⟼ Namjoon

You’re down. On the sofa, trying to get some distraction online. But even there, each perfect image of a girl that pops up on your feed is a reminder. Instagram is not a supportive place to truly feel better about yourself. He does what he can do best. He’ll reason it through for you start to finish on a global scale. Women’s most demeaning role had always been to be looked at, not as a person of action, but groomed visual value on two legs for the last 5,000 years. It wasn’t good, but that was how she attained her legitimacy in the eyes of men who would reduce her to a shell without the power to define herself, even viciously competing with other women for approval while men straight-up walked around with the beauty routine of the Grinch getting away with it. Who were you to break out of that cycle when an entire culture was so deeply entrenched with this dynamic, still, entire industries run by wealthy men capitalizing on an ideal so deliberately unachieveable. Namjoon wouldn’t dare to see himself exempt from it. He, too was raised this way. What he promised you instead was to understand it, and resist it, even if chances of winning were so small. The only hope was that you would be more in his eyes. He tries to see further, he says, and that comforts. Instagram needs to slow the hell down. Namjoon doesn’t want to measure you against someone else and make you feel pressure to be a certain way just to be pleased by your looks.

⟼ Jungkook

“Maybe I’m average. Just not pretty. And skinny, and—” That just won’t get into his head no matter how hard he tries. How could you not think you’re beautiful given that he chose you. To spend time with, to play games and bicker, to enjoy tasty food whenever. Even if it was just some ramen to slurp away at with too much spice in it and fewer noodles than the packaging had promised. You were the person whose ginormous backpack JK would always offer to carry for a mile even if his own was 33 lbs heavy already, just so your injured shoulder won’t act up again after the bike accident last year. In his gym logic, especially since your shoulder muscles are good-looking and deserve this rest (that’s how he thinks don’t look at me strange okay). How could you not see it? Jungkook thought it to be a hopeless cause even singing cheesy songs at karaoke could not fix. So the last resort it has to be and that is cooking you buckets of kimchi and noodles and fried rice and vegetables and dumplings and a gold-encrusted, sparkling rice cake dessert. That good stuff. Jin even drops by to give him some ingredients. You won’t go to bed hungry and moody with that diet bs. He’ll make sure that next day you literally have to roll out of bed because the meal was so good and ample, forget skeleton skinny, you eat your pancakes and Japchae as prepared by chef JK and don’t look back because love very well starts in the stomach. Yes, and indeed: Self-love, too.

[masterlist]

#bts scenarios #bts reactions #bangtan fluff #bts fluff #bangtan angst #bts angst #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts imagines #bts as boyfriends #sub!bts #bts hurt and comfort #x reader #hurt and comfort #bts #bangtan

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movietvtechgeeks · 7 years

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/misha-collins-gives-classic-supernatural-interview/

Misha Collins gives a classic 'Supernatural' interview

As I’m about to have a new book about Supernatural released on May 9 (Family Don’t End With Blood: Cast and Fans on How Supernatural Has Changed Lives which you can get here), I’m reflecting back on some of my many conversations with the Supernatural cast over the past decade. Getting to know this special group of actors, as well as the extraordinary group of people that is the Supernatural fandom, is what gave me the idea for the new book. I knew that fans had powerful stories about how the show had changed (or even saved) their lives; from chatting with the actors over the years, I knew that they did too. So I thought I’d share some of those interviews here – take a trip down memory lane, as it were. First up, Misha Collins! Misha wrote a special essay for Family Don’t End With Blood, but it isn’t the first time he’s contributed to our books. He wrote a powerful (and amusing) chapter in our last book, Fan Phenomena: Supernatural, too. And he contributed to Fangasm: Supernatural Fangirls. In fact, he had the last word in that book, which made him happy. Way back in 2012, we posted some excerpts from our first meeting with Misha. We didn’t know him at all then, so let’s just say he was full of surprises—and that we had a very good time indeed. Check out when we interviewed Lynn on her own Supernatural experiences. Check out exclusive excerpts from Lynn's upcoming book! So, here's Misha Collins in all his glory speaking straight from the heart. We first sat down with Collins shortly after he joined the cast, and before he had any clue what “fandom” was all about – or even that Supernatural had so many passionate fans! We had spent the day on the Supernatural set, doing interviews for some articles in Supernatural Magazine, so by the time we returned to our hotel at Vancouver’s lovely Sutton Place, it was already late – not too late though, we hoped with some trepidation, for our scheduled interview with Collins. We’d been seriously impressed by Castiel’s dramatic introduction to the show, and his already powerful connection with Dean, and couldn’t wait to chat with the actor who portrayed him. Our set van pulled up to Sutton Place behind the one transporting Misha, and when he jumped out, we were completely caught off guard by how much the actor didn’t look like the character. Obviously the lack of trenchcoat was instrumental, but frankly, we just didn’t expect Collins to be so — well, attractive! Dressed in faded vintage flare jeans and a gauzy shirt, he looked like he’d just stepped out of the 70s, which was a very good look on him indeed. Add to that a beaming smile instead of Castiel’s uber stern verging-on-constipated expression, and damn, who knew! An hour later, we joined Collins in Sutton Place’s cozy bar, Gerard’s, for a drink and what was scheduled to be a half hour interview. Misha had just been booked for his first Supernatural convention, so he kicked off the interview by asking us what to expect, since no one had prepared him. Which seemed odd to us, since he certainly had a few convention experts at his disposal. Lynn: No? Did you ask Jared and Jensen — because they’ve been to a million. Misha: Yes, but I didn’t get a clear picture. Maybe they didn’t want to scare me. It’s an unusual phenomenon? In your opinions? Kathy: There have been other shows popular enough for conventions, of course, but Supernatural seems different. The dedication and also the level of involvement really is what impresses us. Not just watching the show, but writing meta-analysis of the show, fabulous fanfiction, screencap by screencap analysis of scenes…. We just came from an interview with (propmaster) Chris Cooper, and talking with him about the little tiny things fans pick up on. They know that you have to find the exact same thing you used in season 1 and bring it back in season 4 because fans screencap it and say hey, it’s not the same. (Not us, alas. We’re oblivious. You could probably replace the Impala with a hybrid and we wouldn’t notice. JUST KIDDING! But seriously, our friend Mary once realized that a scene of Sam and Dean burning bones at a graveyard was footage from a previous episode. And she was RIGHT!) Misha: It is amazing the level of creative input, not just the nitpicking continuity questions, but the creative input. Now that we were five minutes into our allotted thirty and had not yet managed to ask one measly question from our handy dandy prepared notes, Misha hijacked the interview once again to ask another. This constantly happens to us in interviews, which we used to think was due to the fact that we’re an English professor and a psychologist, not journalists, and thus we fail at journalistic rigor. Luckily their questions are as interesting as ours anyway at least half the time. Misha: Can I ask one more question, then you can ask your questions? Us: Oh, sure, no problem, of course. (Really, who would say no to those blue eyes??) Misha: From a psychological vantage point, what needs is this fulfilling? Leave it to Misha to ask a question that took us an entire BOOK to answer. He’s now got it all in one handy dandy place in Fandom At The Crossroads. At the time, we were only beginning our research for that book, but we laid out our theories about the supportive, normalizing, validating role that the fan community plays, and the ways in which creative expression like fanfiction, vidding, and fanart can be for play, celebration and fun – and for exploring identity, self expression, even working through trauma, with the fan community a kind of group therapy experience. Collins, we have to say, listened much more intently than most of our students. Alas. Misha: That’s very interesting. Kathy: Most fans kind of get into fandom because it’s a way to be accepted. So if you’re passionate about a television show, most people outside of that community will look at you and say “Get a life”. Within that community, it’s a conversation about people and places. That’s where we started and just really wanted to be. Lynn: The other weird thing about this fandom is, the more we’ve researched it, the more we realize that it’s a very reciprocal fandom. The creative side — the actors, writers, production office, directors, the art department –they interact with the fans directly and in a very respectful way. This is a smart, educated, older fandom. It’s not 10 year old kids who don’t know what their boundaries should be. So they’ve really built up this really reciprocal, active relationship. Misha: That’s very interesting. At this point, we realized we were now halfway through our allotted time, and Misha had mostly fixed us with those puppy eyes and kept us talking with “that’s very interesting” interjections. Damn!! We started to wonder if we’d been compelled-by-an-angel. Breaking eye contact with difficulty, we attempted to change the interview back to US interviewing HIM. Lynn: You must have had some interactions with the Supernatural fans. Misha: You know, I’ve received fan mail and it’s actually, I don’t know why, but previously my fan mail was coming from the US prison systems. Inmates were writing me. Lynn: (at the time utterly clueless about Misha’s propensity for teasing with a completely straight face….) Wait, what? Was that because you were on ‘24’ or what? Yes, those are Lynn’s incredible powers of hypothesizing. Misha: (still with that totally serious face, ensuring that Lynn would continue to look like a moron….) Honestly, I don’t know. I assume it must have been 24. Lynn: (continues to look like…..yeah yeah, whatever.) Misha: (realizing we’re going to, sadly, remain clueless….) Well this will be different because it seems like actual letters from people who really have a personal investment in getting a response, which gives it a different tenor to the writing than someone trying to collect a random collection of autographs that have no sort of personal meaning. Other than that, I’ve been approached on the street, there’s no way for me to tell if they’ve been avid fans or people who just watch the show. They were very respectful and positive. Kathy: This is an interesting fandom, because they don’t always take well to new characters in the show, they pretty much want the show to be about the boys. Your character is an exception, almost immediately the fandom took to this new character. We’ve never seen this before. Misha: (deadpans) You’ve hated the character. Lynn (beginning to get with the program): Did we say that?! Misha: (grinning) I think part of that has to do with the build up, being receptive to Castiel. It was such an inherent piece of the story. The character is a super character, a super cool character, it was a super cool introduction to the character. Lynn: Talk about drama! And it doesn’t hurt that there is a great deal of chemistry between Castiel and Dean. Misha: The scenes that we’ve had together, there’s something that clicks and they’re easy, the way we interact with each other. Lynn: There is, yes, in Castiel’s interactions with Dean. I always wonder how much of it you can feel in the moment. Could you tell if it’s going to be good, how it will play out on the screen? Misha: No, never. I’m not very good at telling. I think they’re really right on. I think the things that are horrible actually turn out to be the best. Lynn (deadpans): Luckily you’re not doing the editing. Misha: (who can take it as well as he can give it) Right. I don’t know why, but there’s always a certain intensity, like a quiet intensity that seems to organically comes out when we’re (Cas and Dean) doing scenes. We pointed out that for some reason, the Cas and Dean scenes, especially early on, were set up in a very intimate way, with lots of whispered conversation and emotion-packed stares and glares. Fandom, predictably, was almost immediately captivated by the character and his relationship with Dean. Kathy: The first online community devoted to Castiel (and Dean) was created within 42 minutes of the character’s introduction. Misha: (deadpan) Why do you think it took so long? Maybe the servers were down or something. We took a break when food and drink arrived, and somehow Misha once again took up question-asking instead of question-answering. Misha: So is that stuff mostly on Live Journal? What is Live Journal? How gigantic is it? How many people in the domestic US belong to these communities, about 10,000 people, or 100,000 people? As you can see, Misha is an excellent interviewer. It took us about ten minutes to realize we were once again being interviewed instead of interviewing, and to determinedly turn the tables back. Did he have any idea, when he auditioned for Supernatural, how passionate the fandom was? Misha: I had no idea what I was walking into. I had no idea when I went into audition. Lynn (grabbing the chance to ask one of our many still-unasked questions): Oh hey, that’s one of our questions! What made you audition for this role? Misha: The desire for a job. I think I didn’t even realize until after the audition what it was for, I thought it was a guest star. My manager told me, but I wasn’t paying attention. It was a demon that I was auditioning for. Kripke didn’t want it to get out to fandom (that Castiel was an angel). He gave me a little direction, after I did the demon version once, he gave me a little direction to change it to be an angel, and he told me they hadn’t been down on earth for two thousand years so there would be a quality of just looking at humans as though they were strange alien beings. Lynn: You do that so well. Psychologists are always trying to read people’s non-verbals. And there’s this subtle sort of little twist you do, regarding people a little too long and sort of speaking a little more slowly, because you’re not sure of your footing. It’s very subtle, but it’s very there. Misha: Cool. It’s fun to play with that. Lynn: Castiel is a complicated character and I think fans like that too because he’s not — you can’t really peg him. Is he good? Is he not good? He’s a sympathetic character but he can be a bastard. Does he like Dean, does he hate Dean, does he want to take Dean apart? Misha: (deadpans) Does he want to take Dean to bed? Lynn: (nearly spits her drink all over her interview notes). Excellent question! Both of us (silently): Everyone wants to take Dean to bed….. Kathy: (recovering from the take-Dean-to-bed visuals first) So, has anyone told you anything about what the conventions are like? Misha: No. I’ve never been to one. Kathy: Well, there will be thousands of people. And as soon as you walk out onto the stage there will be clapping and cheering. Misha: Sounds like a fantasy. Kathy: It does, doesn’t it? Then you’ll have to answer their questions on the spot. Misha: I have a friend who was on the last Star Trek series and he was telling me about his conventions a few years ago, and I was thinking, wow, I hope my career never comes to that. Then I got the first call and I was like, WHAT???? FANTASTIC, I can handle this, sign me up! At the time, Misha had just filmed his acrobatic guest spot on Nip/Tuck, and there was a clip on Youtube which the SPN fandom was loving. For obvious reasons. Misha: My barber found it and when I went in for my hair cut, he said your Nip/ Tuck clip had like more than 30,000 hits — oh, and it’s airing next week. I didn’t know it. I said, how the hell did you know that? It was a pretty weird role. When I shot it, before I was shooting this, I thought it would be under the radar. Famous last thoughts. Lynn: That’s pretty funny. And even after having been on things like 24, because that’s a pretty popular show, it doesn’t have the sort of concentrated fan base that this show has. This is something different for you. Misha: Totally different. Interesting, because something like 24, there’s more people watching me, but no one interviewing me. Lynn: No, exactly. Not watching you in the same way. I mean, I don’t want to make you paranoid…. Misha: You are! Lynn (evil grin): Am I doing a good job? Yes, that’s what we do. Misha: I think it makes me take it a little more seriously. It sort of makes it feel like a bit more of a responsibility. It’s just not some junk that people are half watching. There’s a bit more devotion on the receiving end. This may be totally out of line, but it feels like Jared and Jensen sort of feel that way with the cast and crew. Just the sense that they’re being watched. I haven’t got that kind of attention myself, so that’s good so far. Kathy: You will at the convention. The Supernatural conventions are like a self-contained universe, and it’s a different universe. There within that universe, you’re a celebrity. Misha: That’s funny how when they send the contracts they mention security, and I thought, I’m certainly not going to need that! At this point in the interview (of which we’ve only included excerpts), you may be thinking that surely our allotted thirty minutes had long past. You would be right. This didn’t occur to either us or Collins as we sat in Gerard’s trading interviewer duties, however. It was Misha’s turn again. Misha: Let me just go back to that last point, being scrutinized by the fans. The other thing is, seeing how nasty they are to the people they don’t like, it makes you conscious of that, it’s just not sort of the carrot on the stick. Just the accolades you get that are going to your head and skewing how you think. There’s a little bit of fear for me, being new. What if they turn on me? It would be devastating, it would be like a divorce. I don’t want to go through that. Lynn: Don’t worry, they’re not tired of you. Misha: (deadpans) You haven’t seen the stuff that we shot already, it’s pretty embarrassing. Collins’ zinging sense of humor was apparently nurtured in a remarkably pop culture-free childhood environment. I was raised fairly isolated from the popular culture in general. We didn’t have a TV. We didn’t have any money. We moved around a lot. I was in 15 different schools by the time I was a freshman in high school. I was often an outsider at the school and I never really had a tight network where I would get involved. I was wearing the Michael Jackson glove when everyone else was already on to Prince….I do get into things but I’ve never had a devotion to any popular culture and I’m always not understood at all. Lynn: So you grew up not really a fan and not watching TV — how did you decide to become an actor? Misha: Good question. Lynn: (silently) Finally! Misha: My mom was a professional storyteller when we were growing up, which meant that she would go and tell a story to a school assembly here and there. She did community theater and I was in a couple of her plays. Nothing serious. Then I did a couple of plays in high school. My mother would come to whatever school I was in, and direct the play. I don’t know how, but I would end up getting cast as the lead. As I looked back I was horrified at the nepotism that went into that. I think that the teacher should have said absolutely not, you’re not casting your son as the lead. So I have that background. But I was going to go to law school, I went to the University of Chicago. Then I got out of school and didn’t know what to do with myself right away. I took a little time off and I started a software company. I was just sort of floundering around. At this point, Collins must have realized that the interviewer/interviewee roles had been flipped again, suddenly exclaiming, “Wow, I haven’t given such a long-winded answer in a long time.” We assured him that was fine, and so he went on. Except, abruptly and inexplicably, he was now speaking with an unidentifiable but definitely non-American accent! Misha: I was going into character for some reason when I was in college. Lynn: (silently) Apparently that has continued into the present. Misha: I was a Russian foreign exchange student, Lynn (silently): Ohhhh, so that’s what this is! Misha: And these lasted for a long time, like six to nine months and it was fun and everyone laughed until they got really sick of it. So a couple friends said you should really try acting. Basically I got a head shot taken and took one class when I was living in DC when I interned at the White House. My first audition was for Barry Levinson for Liberty Heights. I didn’t even know what an audition was. I had no idea what I was doing. I got the part and worked on it for about six weeks. Then there was another movie casting locally, which was Girl Interrupted. I thought, this is easy! I’ll be a movie star for a little while. Then I moved out to LA, got an agent and went to my first LA audition and I saw 30 guys there. Auditioning in Baltimore and DC there would be me — the same old me and a black woman and a 4 year old child. Then moving to LA, there were 30 guys that looked like Mike Doppleganger. It took me nine months auditioning five days a week to get a guest star on Charmed. That was my first role in LA. That’s a long-winded story for ya. It was. So long winded that Misha was chastised by The Powers That Be for being late for some phone interviews and we were chastised for making him late. Hey, we were the ones BEING interviewed half the time, it wasn’t our fault! Anyone who has had the pleasure of seeing Misha at a convention knows that he took on the experience with the same intellectual curiosity he brought to our first interview. Sometimes his Q & As are so hysterical that we’re crying from laughing so hard. He broke the rules early and often (huge surprise there….) and in the process changed the norms for cons, and for the ways in which the creative side interacts with fans. He treated fans like fellow adults, asking as many questions as he sorta-kinda-maybe answered (a dynamic with which we were already intimately familiar), tossed out the no-cursing norm, and generally engaged in witty banter that some fans matched him step for step and others just quirked an eyebrow. We will continue through the launch of Lynn's book with some of her best Supernatural interviews. Check out Misha’s chapter – along with many other cast and fan chapters – in Family Don’t End With Blood. You can pre-order it here.

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#Featured #Interviews #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Supernatural

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clubakashi · 8 years

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Chapter 14

a cute story of Akashi and his mini-bokushi by @active-mind-15

Link to: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

Chapter 14

“Checkmate!”

“Miyoko, while I said I wouldn’t nitpick, may I remind you that we’re playing Go Fish?”

Bokushi sat across from Miyoko at the dining table in her house. It was a Wednesday afternoon and after Bokushi had spent the better half of his day in the library in his house, a maid suddenly called out to him from the entrance, informing him that Midorima was on the phone. When he went to answer it and politely greeted the Shooting Guard, Miyoko snatched the phone from her older brother and asked if Bokushi could come over. Now here he was, across the table from the green-haired little girl, shaking his head in exasperation at how incorrectly she was playing the card game. Miyoko frowned slightly.

“Eh? I can’t say that?”

“No,” Bokushi said for what he imagined to be probably the fourth time already. “If I ask you for a number and you don’t have it, you’re supposed to tell me ‘Go Fish’, not 'Checkmate’. And you’re not supposed to put your cards face-up, either.” She looked down at the cards she put down on the table and gasped.

“Ah, I forgot!” she exclaimed, quickly picking them up again. “Okay, now we can keep going.”

“It doesn’t work if I’ve already seen your cards,” Bokushi sighed. He rubbed his temples. “Never mind, give them to me and we’ll start over.”

“Hai~”

As Bokushi began reshuffling the cards, Midorima walked into the room and spotted the two sitting at the table.

“Are you playing a card game, nanodayo?” he asked. “If so, it takes Miyoko a while to understand instructions.”

“No it doesn’t!” Miyoko huffed, grabbing the cards that Bokushi handed to her. “I can play just fine! Look, I have three Kings already. That’s good, right?”

“For the last time, you’re not supposed to tell me what cards you have Miyoko,” Bokushi emphasized. “Now I have to reshuffle them again.”

“Oh. Oops…”

Bokushi rolled his eyes, taking her cards back and reshuffling the deck, his eyes wandering over to Midorima who was still standing over them. “If you’re that interested in watching the game, then why don’t you play, Shintarou?”

“This card game isn’t necessarily engaging, nanodayo,” the teenager replied. “I prefer more strategic games.”

“Unless you want me to start teaching your sister how to play poker then we have no other options,” said Bokushi. “At least sit down for one game.” Shintarou thought about it for a moment, weighing his options before sighing in resignation and sitting down, taking five cards from the deck. Bokushi began to sort his own cards.

“So, Shintarou, I never got the chance to ask you what you were up to these days.”

“Nothing special, nodayo,” he replied. “My days are the same as usual. Do you have any threes?”

“Go Fish.”

“Tsk.” He drew a card from the deck. Bokushi gazed at him with a deceptively innocent smile.

“Do you have any threes, Shintarou?” Midorima glared at him before surrendering two of his cards, the boy eagerly taking them and putting them in his deck. “Much obliged. Miyoko, it’s your turn.”

“Okay!” she said happily. “Does anyone have any sevens?” Bokushi heard Midorima growl before reluctantly handing a seven over to his sister. She giggled in excitement.

“Yes! I’m gonna win before you do, onii-chan!”

“Hmph, what a pointless game,” Midorima muttered, adjusting his glasses. Bokushi patted his shoulder.

“Try not to let it get to you, Shintarou,” he lightly teased. “How is basketball going?”

“The same as always. Takao is more rowdy than usual, though.”

“Ah, Takao Kazunari, the Point Guard in your team. Well, he’s probably excited for the upcoming basketball competitions. There are quite a few of them scattered between now and the next term. I assume your team intends to enter them.”

“Of course, it would be good practice for the Inter High, nanodayo. Does anyone have any Queens?” Miyoko pouted.

“I bet you were peeking at my cards,” she said before tossing a Queen in her brother’s general direction. He shook his head in amusement.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “Due to such unforeseen circumstances, it seems that I won’t be facing you in any more basketball tournaments.” Bokushi frowned.

“I suppose not,” he said slowly. He hadn’t even considered his future. Obviously, now that he’s stuck like this for good, he will no longer compete in high school tournaments. Akashi will be the one competing in Inter-High and the Winter Cup this year, and the year after in his final year of high school. Before, Bokushi could hope to play if they switched but they were two separate people now. Switching was not an option. All those times on the court, the adrenaline rush when he stepped into the packed stadium, the cheer of the crowd, the sound of the basketball bouncing on the polished stadium floors, the excitement when the buzzer sounds to start the game, all of these things he can no longer experience. He thought of his previous teammates and how their talents have grown over the years, and how exhilarating it was to have a proper battle with them. Now, they’ll continue on without him, going on to bigger and better championships, Bokushi going back to watching them from afar. He looked down as a wave of jealousy washed over him.

They’re leaving me behind again, huh?

Midorima glanced over at Bokushi, aware of the sudden change in the air. Despite the fact that Akashi and Bokushi were two different people, he was still able to detect when either of them fell into what Aomine always described as 'one of his weird moods’. The boy had also left his cards on the table, his face showing no desire to pick them up again. Miyoko, on the other hand, was sitting on the other side of the table, probably wondering why they had stopped the game. Midorima took the cue from the tension-filled atmosphere and decided that he too would put his cards down, standing up from the dining table.

“Come,” he said, grabbing the other two’s attention. “Both of you should put your shoes on. Let’s take a walk to the park, nanodayo. This house is getting quite stuffy.” Miyoko immediately perked up at the suggestion and jumped off the chair.

“We’re going to the park?” she said. “I’ll get my shoes and my coat right now!” She dashed upstairs and to her room before anyone could say a word. As she ran off, Bokushi looked up at Midorima and quirked a brow.

“Shintarou?” Midorima didn’t answer and instead turned around to go get his own coat. Once he took a step in the other direction, however, he stopped in place.

“You should go put your shoes on as well, nodayo. I keep the basketball in the back.” He then continued walking. Bokushi stared after him, unblinking, until he finally turned away and smiled.

“Okay.”

…

Bokushi, Midorima, and Miyoko set out once they got their shoes on and together they walked down the street, on their way to the park they were at just days before. Miyoko was bouncing the ball down the street with excitement. “Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy~” is what she sang as she bounced the ball up and down.

Bokushi, walking alongside her, observed her behavior. Kids really will just say the first thing that pops up in their head, don’t they? Once people get older, they might be thinking the silly tune that Miyoko was singing right now, but they wouldn’t actually sing it out loud, due to the fear of being heavily judged. He hadn’t realized how many excuses children such as herself had for doing such strange things without being reprimanded.

“Miyoko,” Midorima began “You shouldn’t bounce the ball so much, it might go into the street.”

“It’s fine, onii-chan,” Miyoko said back. “You worry too much—ah!” The ball bounced onto an uneven part of the sidewalk and began bouncing away from her, near the busy road in front of them. Miyoko eyes widened.

“The basketball!” she shouted and began to chase after it, but the door to a shop opened in front of the ball, the orange basketball coming to a halt once it hit the glass door. The person who opened the door bent down and picked up the ball, Miyoko stopping in her tracks to look up at the person who picked it up. He was very tall; very tall, and very pretty as well. He looked like he was wearing a school uniform, gray trousers with a white collared dress shirt and black tie. His hair was golden yellow, and his eyes were a deep amber color. This person was none other than Kise Ryouta. He held the ball out to her and smiled.

“Is this yours?” Miyoko looked entranced for a moment before shaking herself out of her state of wonder and timidly taking the basketball back from him.

“Yes…thank you.” She immediately turned around and held the ball up. “Onii-chan! I caught the ball!” He quirked a brow.

“Onii-chan?” he repeated. His gaze wandered behind her to find who she was addressing and saw the green-haired Shooting Guard he knew so well. “Midorimacchi?” Midorima furrowed his eyebrows.

“Kise?” he said. “What are you doing here, nanodayo?”

“I was doing a photoshoot near here,” he explained. “And I decided to look at something in this shop-ssu. This is your little sister?”

“Yes,” said Midorima. He gestured over to the little girl. “This is Miyoko, nanodayo.” Miyoko smiled.

“Hi! I’m Miyoko and I’m five. Nice to meet you!” Kise gave her another cheery smile.

“Nice to meet you, Miyoko-chan!” he chirped. “I’m Kise Ryouta.”

“Hi, Kise-san! Oh! I almost forgot.” Miyoko pointed to the redheaded boy standing next to Midorima. “This is my friend Bokushi-kun.” Kise followed her pointed finger to the boy she was talking to and his eyes widened so much they nearly fell out of their sockets.

“Wha—” His jaw dropped when he spotted the young boy who had red hair and heterochromatic eyes, one red and one gold, exactly like a certain captain he knew. Bokushi smirked, raised a hand and gave a small wave.

“Why hello, Ryouta.”

“EEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHH?!”

~O~

“Alright, five-minute break, everyone!”

“Yes, captain!”

Akashi took a long contemplative sip from his water bottle during practice as he reviewed some notes on a clipboard he was holding. Mibuchi came walking off the court and grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face and then stretching his arms out.

“What’s up next on the training menu, Sei-chan?”

“We’re going to have a few practice matches once everyone has returned,” he answered, still reading off the clipboard. “Once that’s over I’ll be discussing what we’re doing in tomorrow’s practice and then we can finish up for today.”

“Please don’t put me on Eikichi’s team. He’s disgusting.”

“He’s your teammate, Mibuchi,” Akashi responded, an amused smile on his face. “You should try to at least get along with him.”

“Well, maybe I would if he had manners,” Mibuchi huffed stubbornly. “Not to mention for every single thing he does, he has to shout 'Muscle-whatever’. That boy is a handful sometimes.” Suddenly, something began to ring, and it was only after a few moments that Akashi realized it was his cell phone.

“Ah, excuse me.” He unzipped his sports bag and dug around, quickly pulling his phone out and looking at the Caller ID. “Hmm? Kise?” Mibuchi arched a brow.

“Oh? What would Kise Ryouta-kun from Kaijo be calling for?” Akashi shrugged.

“I suppose I’ll find out.” He pressed the answer button. “Hello?”

“AKASHICCHI YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU HAD A YOUNGER BROTHER!”

Mibuchi watched Akashi wince from the Kaijo Ace’s voice on the other line, making a point of moving the phone as far away from his ear as possible, his eye twitching slightly in irritation. The redhead sighed wearily.

“You’re loud, Kise,” he chided. “And how did you know about that?” There was some shuffling on the other line and some muffled speaking, and then a different voice was heard.

“Good afternoon, Seijuro-nii.”

“Bokushi?” he said in surprise. “What are you doing with Kise? Where are you?”

“I was originally with Shintarou and Miyoko and we were walking to the park,” the boy told him. “But we ran into Ryouta along the way.”

“I see,” Akashi said, nodding in understanding. “In any case, I suppose Kise was in for quite a shock, wasn’t he?”

“Shock isn't nearly enough to describe it!” Kise exclaimed, taking the phone back. “Midorimacchi explained everything just now, and even though I understand how this happened, I’m still in denial-ssu! Is this really your other self? He’s so cute!”

“Don’t call me cute!” He heard Bokushi yell from the other line. Akashi chuckled.

“Now, now, Bokushi. Anyway, it really is a coincidence that you all happened to run into each other. It seems that ever since Bokushi and I came back to Tokyo we’ve been having run-ins with quite a few of you.”

“Midorimacchi wasn’t the first?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Akashi. “Kuroko and Kagami were the first to know, actually. We ran into them on the first night we were in Tokyo.”

“And they didn’t tell me?!” Kise whined (Akashi didn’t even have to see his face to know he was pouting). “Kurokocchi and Kagamicchi are both traitors-ssu!”

“I see you’re as dramatic as always,” Akashi observed. He looked at the clock at the far end of the gym and blinked in surprise. “Ah, the five-minute break should be over soon. I have to go now, unfortunately. Tell Bokushi I say goodbye and that I’ll call him tonight.”

“Okay~! I’ll tell him. And Akashicchi…”

“Yes?”

“The next time you come back to Tokyo, we should all play basketball sometime!” Akashi smiled, his eyes softening at the innocence of the proposition.

“Yeah. Let’s play basketball sometime. Later.”

“Later!”

The call cut and Akashi put his phone in his bag. Putting his water bottle on the bench, he looked back one more time before walking back onto the court along with his gathering teammates.

“Alright, let’s resume practice!”

~O~

Miyoko and Bokushi opened the gates that led to the court, stepping inside and looking around.

“Finally, we’re here,” Miyoko observed, sighing in satisfaction at the sight of the court in front of her. Bokushi, carrying the ball behind her, watched with an impassive expression.

“It didn’t take that long, actually,” he responded.

“Everything takes long to her, nanodayo,” Midorima said. “A minute usually feels like an hour to her.”

“That’s kids for you,” said Kise. Midorima’s eyebrow twitched.

“Kise…why are you still here?”

“How mean-ssu!” he cried. “I thought it might be nice if I joined you guys.”

“We didn’t invite you.”

“Midorimacchi is so stingy. You should be happy when someone wants to hang out with you!”

“I hardly think of you as good company, nodayo,” Midorima huffed, earning him another cry of despair from the Kaijo ace. “But I suppose you can stay now that you’re here.”

“Kise-san, did you want to play basketball with us?” Miyoko asked, staring up at the teen with questioning eyes.

“Would I?” He smiled. “I’d love to! Miyoko-chan do you know how to play?” The little girl shook her head.

“I’ve only watched onii-chan play,” she said. “But I wanna learn how to play too!”

“You know, I can play basketball too,” Kise added. “I used to play on the same team as Midorimacchi.”

“You used to play on the same team as onii-chan?”

“Yep!” said Kise. “Do you want me to teach—”

“Bokushi-kun, can you play basketball?” Kise’s jaw dropped as Miyoko completely ignored what he was going to say and went straight over to Bokushi. The redheaded boy nodded.

“I can play basketball. I can teach you if you’d like,” Bokushi suggested. Miyoko beamed at Bokushi with a wide smile.

“You can? Thank you, Bokushi-kun!”

“I got rejected!” Kise exclaimed woefully. Midorima grunted at the assault on his eardrums.

“You’re noisy, Kise,” he complained. “Anyway she’s Bokushi’s friend so leave them be.”

“But I wanted to help too,” said Kise. He was always fond of kids and adored it when they looked up to him. “Even now, Akashicchi still wins in the end-ssu.”

“It’s Bokushi now,” Midorima reminded the blonde. “And considering the fact that he’s still better than both of us in basketball, it would have been wiser for him to teach her anyway, nanodayo.”

“Come on, Bokushi-kun. Teach me how to shoot!” Miyoko said excitedly, skipping over to the center of the court. Bokushi shook his head.

“Basketball isn’t just about shooting, you know,” he sighed. “There’s a lot more to it.”

“Like what?” Miyoko asked. The young boy hummed in thought.

“Well, let’s start from the basics.” He went over to join her in the center of the court and set the ball down on the ground.

“First of all, the rules of basketball are easy enough to understand. All you have to do is try and score as many shots into the other team’s basket as you can. If you score more than the other team, you win. But there are a few things you need to learn how to do before you can play.”

“What do I need to learn?”

“In basketball, there are three things you have to be able to do. Dribbling, passing, and shooting. If you can do all three, you can become a good basketball player.”

“What’s dribbling?” Miyoko asked.

“It’s quite simple, really.” Bokushi bent down and picked up the ball he had left on the ground. “Dribbling is just being able to bounce the basketball while you run. Like so.” He dribbled the ball all the way to the other side of the court and then came back. Miyoko nodded in understanding.

“I can do that,” she said. “Like this?” She took the ball from Bokushi and started dribbling as well, going in zigzags as she bounced the ball up and down.

“Yes, like that,” Bokushi said in approval. “Now throw the ball to me.” Miyoko stopped in place and threw the ball in the air, Bokushi catching it before it hit the ground.

“Good. Now that was a pass. This is shooting.” From where Bokushi was stood at the three-point line, he made a jump shot and the ball soared through the air, swishing cleanly through the net and then bouncing away. Miyoko was in awe.

“That was so cool!” she said. “That’s like the shot onii-chan makes!”

“The shot that Shintarou makes is called a three-pointer,” Bokushi explained going to go retrieve the ball. “It’s his specialty move.”

“Specialty move?” Miyoko repeated, cocking her head to the side. “So, it’s special to him?”

“Yes. This move is what Shintarou is known for.”

“Does Bokushi-kun have a specialty move?”

“I’m glad you asked, Miyoko.” Bokushi turned around and sent a devious smile towards Kise. “Ryouta, can you please come over here?” he asked in a sickly sweet tone of voice. Kise jolted.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m in danger?” he said fearfully.

“Because you are, nanodayo,” Midorima said. “He intends to use you as a test dummy.”

“Why me, though? You’re standing right next to me-ssu. Why didn’t he ask you?”

“Tick tock, Ryouta.”

“C-Coming!” As Midorima watched Kise rush over to where Bokushi and Miyoko were, he realized that even though Bokushi had changed a bit since Winter Cup, he was still as domineering as ever.

And still as good at basketball as ever, Midorima thought when thirty seconds later Kise was on the floor, Bokushi scoring a basket and Miyoko pointing and laughing at the fallen model on the ground.

…

After Bokushi ran through all the basics and fundamentals of basketball such as rules and positions, how to properly dribble and pass, then finally he got onto what Miyoko was most eager to learn, how to shoot.

“Can you shoot a ball, Miyoko?” Bokushi asked the girl. She thought for a minute.

“I think so,” she said. “Let me try.” She turned to the basket near them and adopted a position that looked more like she was about to launch the thing at someone’s face than shoot it at the basket, her arms holding the ball up high, almost holding it behind her head. It took less than half a second for Bokushi to realize that this would not end well and decided to spare her the trouble.

“You won’t be able to score if you try and shoot like that,” he said.

“I won’t?” Miyoko asked. Bokushi shook his head.

“No. You need to fix the way you’re holding the ball. Which hand do you write with?”

“Um…” Miyoko timidly held up her left hand. “This one,” she said.

“Alright then.” Bokushi walked over and took her left hand, moving it so it was supporting the underside of the ball and her right hand was at the side of the ball. “If you want to shoot, you should hold it like this, otherwise there will be a much higher chance of missing.” Miyoko looked at the basketball in her hands.

“Am I supposed to stand like this?” she asked. Bokushi took a step back to examine her position.

“Not quite,” he said. “Your legs need to be spread a bit further for balance, and you should lower your arms a bit. Let me help.” Midorima and Kise continued to watch Bokushi as he corrected Miyoko’s shooting position. The blonde Small Forward let out a nervous laugh as he turned to his former teammate.

“He sure is a strict teacher…”

“It’s nothing that we’re not used to, nanodayo,” Midorima replied. “That’s just how he is.” No matter how much Bokushi was changing now, that part of him would always stay the same. His ability to teach others to better improve their skills, the guidance that he provided, both Akashi and Bokushi excelled in this aspect. He had once been told by Kuroko back in Teiko that he was a good teacher, even if sometimes his methods were a bit Spartan. At the end of the day, he still got results, though, and that was rewarding in itself. After Bokushi examined Miyoko’s stance one last time, he deemed it satisfactory and moved on to the next bit.

“Now,” he began. “For the actual shooting part, what you want to do is point your toes in the direction of the basket and crouch down. Then you jump and shoot the ball towards the basket. Don’t forget to flick your wrist as you’re shooting it. Can you do that?” Miyoko nodded, face determined.

“I can do it,” she said. “So, like this?” She aimed for the hoop and jumped, her left hand forcing the ball upwards, flicking her wrist so the ball would go towards the basket. The ball ricocheted off the backboard and then sunk through the net with ease, bouncing only a few times on the ground and then coming to a slow halt a few feet away from the pole. Miyoko grinned and jumped in celebration.

“I did it!” she said in glee. “Bokushi-kun I did it!” Bokushi wasn’t even expecting her to get the ball in the first time, so he was a bit surprised himself. He would have remained expressionless but the fact that she made the basket because of his excellent teaching made him smirk a little.

“Well done,” he congratulated her. “I have taught you well.”

“Onii-chan were you watching?”

“I was watching, nanodayo. It was a good shot,” Midorima said. Kise was clapping his hands and smiling.

“You’re a real pro, Miyoko-chan!” he said in encouragement. “You’ll be a good basketball player for sure!” Miyoko was over the moon with happiness.

“You think so?” she said. “In that case, Bokushi-kun, can we play a game of basketball?” Bokushi blinked, slightly bewildered at the wild suggestion.

“You want to play against me?” he echoed, sounding unsure, as if he didn’t hear her correctly. She nodded fervently.

“I want to try and play a game, just to see how strong I am.” The other two were just as dumbfounded.

“Going straight into the boss battle, huh?” Kise said. Midorima frowned.

“Even if she’s my sister, Miyoko is far too ambitious, nanodayo,” he sighed. Bokushi didn’t know how to feel about this declaration.

“You really want to play me?”

“Yes!” Miyoko exclaimed. “And don’t go easy on me. I won’t forgive you if you do!”

“You say you want me to go all out, but do you really know what that means?” Bokushi asked her. Even though he wanted to carry out her promise, Bokushi had morals. The thought of ankle breaking a poor defenseless little girl in a basketball match was too much. No one in the history of the high school basketball world was that mean, not even the really sleazy people like Hanamiya from Kirisaki Daiichi. Haizaki maybe, but that’s about all he could think of. Miyoko was so innocent, so naïve that she thought that she was ready to take on someone like Bokushi in basketball.

You teach one person to shoot and suddenly they think you’re beneath them, he thought. I suppose this could be interesting. He smiled.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll accept your challenge. Prepare yourself, Miyoko.” Miyoko got herself into a defensive position.

“I’m ready!” Bokushi bounced the ball experimentally. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then he exhaled, focusing himself for the oncoming battle.

“Let’s begin.”

…

Thirty minutes and several one-on-ones later, Bokushi was standing in the center of the court once more, not even breaking a sweat, yet somehow regretting everything. Bokushi promised her that he’d go all out, but that would be disastrous, and so for the occasion, he only played at half power. He thought if he did that, he should have been able to play at an acceptable level for Miyoko.

For the second time in his life, Bokushi had made a grave error.

Bokushi knew that Miyoko was a beginner, but he didn’t think she was that much of a beginner. More like, he didn’t adjust his power properly, and he ended up accidentally outclassing her— he knew he was going to but just not by that much — so badly that it couldn’t even be considered a game anymore. Even Kise and Midorima were mortified, and they weren’t even the ones playing.

“Um…Bokushicchi…” Kise was shaking, physically shaking out of the pure fear he felt for the girl’s wellbeing. “I think you used too much power-ssu…”

“I knew this match was doomed from the start,” Midorima began, his voice wavering slightly. “But to think that this was the outcome…” Bokushi could safely say that he agreed with them. It was an accident, he didn’t mean to do it. He may or may not have had the ball in his hands and Miyoko may or may not have reached for it and when she reached for it, he may or may not have crossed her and broken her ankles.

And as a result, she may or may not be sitting on the ground at the moment.

Bokushi cursed himself for being so stupid and giving into his bad habit. Taking a deep breath to convince himself that this situation wasn’t entirely out of his control, he composed himself and turned around to face the girl.

“Miyoko,” he began. “Are you alright—” He stopped in his tracks when he finally took a look at her. She was staring— correction — glaring at Bokushi from where she was sitting on the court, her arms folded tightly and her mouth pulled into a frown. Her cheeks were growing increasingly red as well, and it didn’t take a genius like Bokushi to know why.

She was mad at him.

“I apologize, Miyoko,” Bokushi said as he approached the girl. “Let me help you up.”

“I don’t want any help,” she huffed. Bokushi frowned and tried again to reach for her hand to help her up, but she turned away from him, her back facing the redheaded boy. Midorima was already sensing what was to come. He has dealt with his sister for five years. He knows that she is going to become very unpleasant very soon. When something doesn’t go her way, like any child, she gets mad. And when she gets mad, it is not a very pleasant time for Midorima. So, with a sigh of resignation, Midorima decided to try and diffuse the tension.

“Miyoko, please don’t start making that face, nanodayo,” he said. “There is no need to get upset.” Miyoko completely ignored him and continued to sulk.

“Bokushi-kun is unfair. I wanted to win!” she complained. Her voice sounded irritated, but Bokushi could still hear the whininess that was apparent whenever a malcontented child was speaking.

“I’m sure you did, Miyoko, but please stand up,” Midorima said as gently as he could manage, to not anger her further. Miyoko was still adamant.

“I’m not moving,” she declared, keeping as still as ever as she sat on the ground. Midorima made a noise of exasperation, getting slightly annoyed at how difficult she was being.

“Miyoko…”

“Ah, calm down, Midorimacchi,” Kise said, trying to appease the Shooting Guard. “She’s just a kid y'know?”

“Tch.”

He shot a look to Bokushi, one of sympathy, as if to apologize for what was going on at the moment, but Bokushi shook his head.

“I don’t need your pity, Ryouta,” he said, dismissing the sympathetic look he was giving him. “I can handle this.” Bokushi calmly walks up behind Miyoko and just stands there, staring her for a moment before finally calling her name.

“Miyoko?”

“Go away, Bokushi-kun.”

The boy moves out from behind her and goes to her front instead, but she immediately turns in the other direction. He cocks his head to the side but he walks over to her front once again, and again, she repeats the same behavior. This time, he walks over to her front, but sits down, crossing his legs and watching her in silence. He stayed like that for a while, staring at Miyoko, the expression on his face completely neutral. She noticed the staring, obviously, because it was very difficult not to, and occasionally she glanced up every once in a while, to see if he was still staring. It was only after the sixth glance that she finally caved in and looked at him properly.

“Don’t stare at me.”

“I was simply waiting until you’ve calmed down,” Bokushi replied. “I would like to know why you are angry with me.” Miyoko averted his eyes.

“Because.”

“You know 'because’ isn’t a proper reason. Were you angry because I won?” A pause, to consider the question, and then a slow nod.

“You didn’t let me win at all,” she said, going back to her pouting, her arms still adamantly crossed. Bokushi propped his chin up on his palm, leaning forward slightly, his lips curving upwards into an amused smile.

“So, is that it? Would you have liked me to lose on purpose then?”

“No,” Miyoko said immediately. “I just wanted to win…”

“I’m sure you did, but please keep in mind that you just learned how to play today, and there will be times when you lose.”

“I don’t want to lose. It’s no fun if I don’t win.” Bokushi was mildly taken aback at what Miyoko just said. His amused smile faded into a frown. That last sentence sounded eerily familiar and glancing back to look at the other two’s expressions from the side, it seemed they also recognized it too.

It sounded like what Bokushi used to say.

That phrase wasn’t supposed to affect Bokushi the way it did, but the fact that craving for victory could start as early as the age of five was alarming. He felt like he was staring into a mirror, looking at himself from when he was playing in the Winter Cup. Cocky; arrogant; and when he didn’t get his way, he went to extremes, like a petulant child. He deserved what he got in the end, yes, but the last thing he wanted to see happen was for those foolish ideals to be imprinted into the mind of a five-year-old little girl, much less Midorima’s sister. Imagining her having those ideals throughout her childhood, pushing away her friends, discarding emotions, going borderline insane when she doesn’t succeed, Bokushi almost gets lightheaded. He can tolerate himself making those mistakes, but not someone like Miyoko. So he shifts a little closer and stares into her vibrant green eyes, offering up a small grin.

“Winning isn’t everything, you know?” he said. “Even if you do lose, it’s not the end of the world. So what if you lost to me? Just work harder to beat me next time.”

Kise’s eyes widened in surprise. “Eh? Bokushicchi…” Bokushi’s eyes flickered up to the copycat.

“It’s true, is it not?” he asked him. “After all, you know what it feels like to lose. Shintarou as well.”

Midorima didn’t say anything, but he did silently agree with Bokushi. Ever since his first loss, his pride took a blow, obviously, but that didn’t stop him from trying his best to win the next time. One loss did not set him back. It made him frustrated, yes, but that was not nearly enough to make him quit. He remembered back in their Teiko days when they were still learning and made mistakes along the way to becoming back-to-back champions, Nijimura used to stress the importance of not dwelling on the past. To this day, all the Generation of Miracles, both Akashi’s included, remembered what he used to tell them.

“If you have time to look back, run forward!”

Midorima let out a small breath akin to a laugh at this memory. Who would have thought that this advice would be coming back to haunt them from none other than the victory-seeking, Kagami-stabbing, eye-gouging Bokushi himself? That was a turn of events he did not see coming. But the advice was working because Miyoko was no longer sulking. Instead, she was listening, eyes following Bokushi’s face as she quieted down.

“Have you lost before, Bokushi-kun?”

Bokushi’s eyes became distant as he recalled the memory.

“Just once,” he answered. “But that doesn’t stop me from playing. So it shouldn’t stop you from playing either.” Miyoko’s face went from neutral to sheepish, and she averted his eyes once more, this time out of shame instead of reluctance.

“I guess,” she mumbled. “Sorry for getting mad.” Bokushi took in the expression she was making. Children are the most genuine with their emotions, and it was fascinating, almost endearing to see emotions in such a raw form. He should probably do something. What was it that Akashi does to him? Something he did as consolation when he knew that Bokushi was in a bad mood…

He reached up a hand and placed it on the top of Miyoko’s head, slowly ruffling her hair.

“Apology accepted,” he said, flashing another grin. “I forgive you. Do you want to play again?” Miyoko nodded.

“Yes,” she said to him. “I'll…I’ll become better so I can win next time!” Bokushi turned to the two bewildered miracles standing by the side of the court.

“Aren’t you two going to join us?” he asked them. “Or are you going to keep standing there with your mouths open like you’re catching flies?”

The two were instantly snapped out of their trance and exchanged looks before finally deciding to join the two on the court. Honestly, even though he’s a kid, Bokushi still had his way with words.

~O~

The four of them had played basketball until the sun had set. It was nearly dark when they had finally decided to call it quits. They were tired, a little bit sweaty, and thirsty as well, but they were satisfied with how the day turned out.

“That was awesome!” Miyoko said cheerily. “I had a lot of fun!”

“Me too! Me too!” Kise chimed. “I loved hanging out today-ssu!” Midorima finished wiping his glasses clean before putting them back on.

“I suppose today was enjoyable, nanodayo,” he said. “Even if I had to babysit three children at once.”

“Eh? Midorimacchi don’t you mean two?”

“I know what I said.”

“So mean!”

“I enjoyed this outing as well,” said Bokushi. “It’s been a while since I played basketball so I’ve been wanting to since.”

“We should get going now, however,” Midorima pointed out, taking a look up at the darkening sky. “It’s almost dinner time and your driver said he would pick you up soon. We’ll be making our way back now.”

“Oh! Before you go,” said Kise, signaling the others to wait. “Why don’t we take a selfie?” Three pairs of eyes stared holes into the front of his head.

“Ryouta…”

“Only Kise would think of something so nonsensical, nanodayo.”

“Eh? What’s a selfie? Onii-chan, what’s he talking about?”

“Why is it that I’m always rejected by you people?!” Kise wailed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “For once can’t we just do something that I want to do for a change? Just one picture and then you can go. How about that?” Bokushi and Midorima exchanged equally weary looks and then shrugged.

“I suppose one picture wouldn’t hurt,” Bokushi finally sighed. Midorima felt like rolling his eyes at the thought of taking a picture with Kise of all people, but he let it slide.

“Alright. Just one picture. We’re leaving after that, nanodayo.”

“Hai, hai, Midorimacchi~”

Kise took out his phone and turned on the camera, the others gathering around him, settling once they were all in a comfortable spot. Once Kise had finally gotten the angle he wanted, his finger hovered over the camera button.

“Okay, is everyone ready?”

“I’m ready, Kise-san!”

“Midorimacchi, Bokushicchi, don’t you want to smile more?”

“Ryouta, I had no idea you wanted to die so early on in life.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m taking it!”

The blonde took the photo, and, once he deemed it satisfactory, he nodded to himself in appreciation before beaming and showing the other three.

“Got it! It looks great! A great way to commemorate our hangout-ssu!”

“Whatever you say, Kise. Anyway, we’ll be heading off now, nanodayo. We’ll see you some other time.”

“Yep! See ya!”

Kise waved to the other three as they parted ways, Kise going in one direction while Bokushi, Miyoko, and Midorima went in the other. As the three of them walked back to Midorima’s house, Miyoko gazed at Bokushi with those curious eyes of hers again.

“Ne, Bokushi-kun, will you teach me more basketball some other time?” Bokushi looked back at her, amused by her question.

“Anytime you would like,” he answered. “I have all the time in the world.” And that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

…

Sometime later that evening, Kise posts the selfie he took that day onto his social media accounts, and all of his fangirls who follow him went insane. Kise, being the popular ikemen bubbly model that he is, he’s obviously loved by many girls all over Japan. Wherever he goes he attracts a crowd, and the girls in his own school fell at his feet when he walked down the hallway. Fangirls follow a simple formula which decides how popular the post will be.

Kise equals cute.

Kise plus friends equal cuter.

Kise plus friends plus little kids equal nosebleed worthy kawaiiness.

One like turned to ten likes. Ten turned to a hundred. A hundred to five hundred. Five hundred to a thousand.

The more people like your posts, the more popular they become. The more popular they become, the more people see it. The more people see it, the more likely it is that someone you know will see it. Which is how a certain Touou Ace and manager and a certain Purple snack-eating Titan happened to come across this post while scrolling through their respective social media accounts.

To: Akashi Seijuro

From: Aomine Daiki

Subject: WHAT

THE FUCK

—

To: Akashi Seijuro

From: Momoi Satsuki

Subject: You have a little brother?!

Why didn’t you tell us! He’s so cute! Ｏ(ToT)Ｏ

—

To: Akashi Seijuro

From: Murasakibara Atsushi

Subject: I’m confused

Aka-chin has a mini Aka-chin?

All of these text messages and more flooded the poor Rakuzan captain’s inbox out of nowhere when they started cleaning up in the gymnasium after practice and his phone has been vibrating non-stop. Mibuchi hummed in thought as Akashi picked up his phone for the seventh time in the span of thirty seconds to answer yet another text.

“Somebody’s popular tonight,” he mused. Akashi narrowed his eyes, in that dangerous way that he tends to do when he’s about to quadruple someone’s training menu, his fist clenching as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Kise…” he gritted through his teeth. He didn’t even check to see the reason behind all this commotion. He just somehow already knew that it was his fault. “That guy is so lucky that I’m not his captain anymore.”

#active-mind-15 #submission #(gonna read this in bed)#akashi seijuurou #kuroko no basuke

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

Text

Whistle Down the Wind

by Dan H

Wednesday, 23 July 2008

Dan on The Name of the Wind, with reference to Superman, Macgyver and Roger Rabbit.~

While I was reading The Name of the Wind (which is called The Name of the Wind, and not In the Name of the Wind, despite the fact that I keep on being tempted to call it that) I stopped every thirty seven seconds to inform my girlfriend that I just didn't know what to make of it. I've finished it now, and I still don't know what to make of it.

So you should have a pretty good idea of what to expect from this review. Plus, y'know, spoilers.

A comedian, I think it was either Phil Jupitus or Bill Bailey (one of the Never Mind the Buzzcocksteam captains anyway) once observed that he had loved Captain Scarlet as a kid, but had always found himself with the same old problem. Captain Scarlet would get into trouble and he'd think "oh no, how's he going to get out of this?" Then he'd realize "oh yeah, he's indestructible." Yes, it was a joke. Yes, Phil or Bill or whoever it was, was mostly just trying to get a laugh, and yes in fact the way you deal with that sort of problem is by having Other Things at Stake but it does highlight a serious underlying problem.

The Name of the Wind is a peculiar book (which is part of why it's causing such a stir at the moment). It is primarily told in the first person, but unusually for a book with first-person narration, the narration is actually contextualized. The book begins with a simple village inn in a simple, grimy fantasy world. The text draws our attention to the barman, a man named "Kote". Although he seems no more than a simple innkeeper, we know there's more to him than that - he has red hair for a start, and under Article Five of the Fantasy Literature Act of 1972 it is illegal to have a redhead in a fantasy novel who isn't Totally Special (Ron Weasley slipped through the net due to the Sidekick Exemption Clause).

The town has the usual small-town worries: bad roads, a hard winter, attacks by demonic creatures, that sort of thing. The demonic creatures (who aren't really demons, they're creatures called "skraelings") have already jumped one villager, who escaped more by good luck than good judgment, and there's probably more coming. Simple Innkeeper Kote heads out into the woods in the dead of night and slaughters them in single combat, and this prompts a meeting with a travelling Chronicler called Chronicler, who has come to the sleepy village looking for a legendary hero called Kvothe who, surprise surprise, turns out to be one and the same as our mild mannered flame-haired barkeep.

It's here that the story switches to first-person narration, where it stays for the rest of the book. Kvothe arranges to dictate his entire life story to the Chronicler over the course of three days (which, it seems likely, will correspond to three books). In the course of this negotiation we establish several very important things about the book. Firstly, that it's going to be Kvothe's story as narrated by Kvothe. Secondly, that the Chronicler is a renowned debunker whose great passion is seeking out the truth behind legends (this will become A Theme). Thirdly, and most importantly, we learn that Kvothe is totally awesome at everything. We witness Kvothe cracking the shorthand-like cipher in which the Chronicler writes his notes with a speed and efficiency that makes the Universal Translator look plausible, and we learn a little of his dazzling exploits:

I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity ad my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age that most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep. You may have heard of me.

Now as the book progresses, we learn that at least some of these claims are not all they seem - Kvothe doesn't so much burn down Trebon as happen to be nearby while it gets burned down by a third party. He gets expelled from the university, but his expulsion is suspended as a matter of course. This is part of the second point established above: the book is basically all about the boundaries between myth and reality, men and legends. Regardless of all that though, the fact remains that Kvothe is totally awesome at everything, and that lies at the heart of my problems with the book.

I should say now, in case it gets lost in all the nitpicking, carping, and pettifogging, that The Name of the Wind is genuinely good and highly readable. It's one of those fantasy books which you can compare to serious literature without sounding totally risible. It deals intelligently with its themes and ideas, its characters are fairly well realized, and it's obviously going somewhere quite interesting.

None of that, however, gets me past the Captain Scarlet problem. "Oh no! how is Kvothe going to get out of this? Oh yeah, he's totally awesome at everything."

Long time Ferretbrainers, or people who know me in real life, will probably be aware that I have a George Silver-like fondness for identifying paradoxes: contradictions which it amuses me to highlight and declare irreconcilable. Kvothe is the perfect example of something I might glibly call the "Macgyver Paradox".

It is widely accepted that a hero who merely has unlimited power isn't interesting to write or read about. There's a reason that Lord of the Rings focuses on Frodo instead of Gandalf, or that Feist no longer writes books about Milamber. If a character can just wave a magic wand and make all his problems go away, he can't face any meaningful obstacles, and if he can't face any meaningful obstacles, he can't have any meaningful development as a character. Unfortunately, people assume that this very sensible, very important rule only applies to supernatural sources of power. Worse, they tend to assume that the best way to avoid relying on supernatural sources of power is to make their character "resourceful".

Of course, there's a giant problem with "resourceful" characters, which is that they wind up being exactly like the all powerful characters only worse. Sure, Superman can force majeure his way out of most situations, but it's relatively easy to think of situations where it would not be helpful or desirable for him to rely on his superpowers. It is much, much harder to think of a problem where it isn't helpful or desirable to "come up with a really clever plan". By trying to create a hero who relies on ingenuity instead of superpowers, all you do is turn ingenuity into a superpower. If Macgyver and Superman were both trapped in a sealed room that was slowly filling up with gas, it's Superman who would be in the most trouble. Sure he could bust his way out, but that might detonate the gas and kill a bunch of innocent people. Macgyver on the other hand can just use the gas to jury-rig a blowtorch, thereby getting himself out of the room and taking care of the explosives in one fell swoop. There's a reason that Batman beats Superman in The Dark Knight Returns: power is always finite, but "resourcefulness" is unlimited.

I suppose I should explain what all this has to do with The Name of the Wind. Basically the book concerns itself with Kvothe's origin story. He is raised as a wandering player, amongst the "Emera Ruh," a race of travelling performers who I won't describe as "Gypsy-like" since I know bugger all about Romany culture. It's no big spoiler to tell you that his idyllic childhood is cut short when his troupe is slaughtered by a group of quasi-mythical demonic entities called the Chandrian (the name seems to be plural). After this he lives wild in the woods for almost a year until he finally breaks two strings on his lute and heads off to the big city to get some more. Here he gets mugged and beaten up in short order (losing his lute in the process), and spends the next three years as a beggar living a horrible, Dickensian hand-to-mouth existence.

So far, so good, except that this goes on for nearly a third of the book, with very little real progress being made, and then suddenly he encounters a storyteller and then apparently "his mind wakes up" and he bluffs his way off of the streets and into comparative wealth and comfort, literally overnight (he pawns a book he's been holding onto for sentimental reasons, and then gets a bunch of free clothes by impersonating a nobleman). If it sounds jarring, it is. It's like that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit: "You mean you could have done that at any time?" "Not at any time, only when it was funny."

This pattern continues throughout the rest of the book. Kvothe gets into a bad situation, and then he gets out of it by being totally awesome at everything. Then fate (or his enemies or, dare I say it, the necessity of the plot) gets him into another bad situation, and he gets out of it by being totally awesome at everything. Even that I could almost forgive, except that everything follows the same awkward, jarring pattern as his years as a beggar: helpless ... helpless ... helpless ... totally awesome at everything ... helpless ... helpless.

After he stops being a beggar, Kvothe manages to persuade the University not only to let him in, but also to pay him for the privilege. Here he picks up the obligatory High School Enemy, an obscenely wealthy, obscenely influential nobleman by the name of Ambrose. Perhaps I'd have been more sympathetic towards this plotline if it hadn't been done in ... well ... every single boarding school based story ever. It's got to the stage where I can't even distinguish between the descriptions of Ambrose, that dude from the Black Magician Trilogy, and Draco Malfoy any more (I think they're all blonde, but they all run together in my head). Like all Boarding School Rivals, he's somehow powerful enough to totally wreck Kvothe's life, yet also clearly totally inferior to him in every way.

For example, as part of his continuing struggle to stave off starvation, Kvothe takes to playing his lute at a highly prestigious local music venue. Not only does he wow the audience by playing the single most difficult song in the world ever, but when Ambrose tries to sabotage him by magically cutting one of his lute strings, he completes the song anyway, thereby making people even more impressed at how totally awesome at everything he is. However, his plan to use this event as a springboard to find a noble patron is thwarted because Ambrose tells all the nobles not to support him.

Okay, fine, Ambrose is rich and powerful, but are you honestly telling me that his family has no enemies whatsoever? That there isn't one nobleman in the whole damn city who don't think that ticking off some uppity brat is a fair price to pay for being able to get one of the greatest musicians who ever lived playing at your banquets? (Seriously, when Kvothe plays his lute, people practically ejaculate into their pants he's that good). Is there nobody out there in the cutthroat world of noble politicking who would actually relish the opportunity to piss off Ambrose's family, with an orgasm-inducingly awesome pet musician as an added bonus?

Like with

my review

of the Age of the Five trilogy, I've had to take a step back from what I've just said to think to myself "god, when you write it all down like that it just looks absurd". Kvothe is a musical genius with an eidetic memory, precocious magical talent, wisdom beyond his years (the book constantly tells us how totally young he is " the broken down world weary version we see in the inn is only twenty-five), limitless courage, and infinite resourcefulness who only suffers setbacks at all because the rest of the world goes out of its way to screw him over. Hell, he's supposed to be so cool that he's literally reciting the entire damned novel from memory. The fact that this kind of thing works at all and is in fact quite entertaining to read about is testimony to the genuine merits the book possesses.

When all is said and done, The Name of the Wind is a genuinely engaging, genuinely interesting Fantasy novel. I genuinely enjoyed it and would genuinely recommend it but, as you might have gathered from the fact that I wound up using the word "genuinely" four times in the last sentence, I'm still hugely confused about it (genuinely confused, in fact). I really, really hope that the "Kingkiller Chronicles" (the name of the series, in case I didn't mention) will turn out to be the classic everybody is predicting. I really hope that Kvothe's ludicrously expanding skillset won't start to become annoying and implausible (or rather, more implausible). I really hope that we'll actually find out something about the goddamned Chandrian in the next book. I kind of hope that it will turn out that Kvothe has been totally lying about a lot of this stuff, but I don't think that will happen.

The Name of the Wind (no "In", remember) is an entirely readable, quite well-written book that raises some interesting questions about the boundaries between history and legend, reality and myth. Its protagonist is remarkably likable given that he's a colossal Genioos. The plot is remarkably engaging given that nothing much happens. I'll certainly be picking up the next volume in the hope that I might be able to make some goddamned sense of it all.Themes:

Books

Sci-fi / Fantasy

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Rami

at 14:30 on 2008-07-23I'm glad you liked it! Kvothe's total awesomeness made even me, gushy and enthusiastic as I

tend to be, think twice

-- but I really can't wait for the next one... in

a few months' time

, anyway...

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Michal

at 07:44 on 2011-07-02Hmm, I've avoided this book so far for the somewhat silly reason that one of the interior cover blurbs is from Robert J. Sawyer...I've found a strange correlation between "books I dislike" and "has blurb by Robert J. Sawyer", but I really should just give it a shot.

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Dan H

at 12:03 on 2011-07-02I wasn't sure who Robert J. Sawyer was, so I looked him up on Wikipedia and:

a) Wow, he *really* looks like Steven Merchant

b) OMG! He's the guy who wrote that book Kyra's got on her to-read pile about the blind girl who has experimental surgery which allows her to SEE THE INTERNETS!

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Michal

at 16:44 on 2011-07-02

He also nearly ruined my childhood.

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Alasdair Czyrnyj

at 01:12 on 2011-07-03Sawyer also tends to push the "science vs. religion" pretty hard in science/rationalism/whatever's favor in most everything he writes, but he doesn't really understand religion enough to criticize it effectively, so it just comes off as a strawman-fest.

Wow, he *really* looks like Steven Merchant

Really? I thought he was tubbier than Stephen Merchant.

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Vermisvere

at 03:24 on 2011-07-03

Sawyer also tends to push the "science vs. religion" pretty hard in science/rationalism/whatever's favor in most everything he writes

I'd probably be best off avoiding it then. I found that a lot of the books that I read which have the "science vs. religion" concept in them tend to, at one point or another, grind to a painful halt in terms of plot and turn into a mish-mash fest of mental wanking where the characters turn into your average 6th graders debating theology.

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown is a good example. *shudder*

Wow, he *really* looks like Steven Merchant

Hey, he does too!

Well, whadya know...

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Michal

at 04:15 on 2012-01-20Well, I finally gave it a go. Got about 70-some pages in before I gave up.

I think it was the bit where Kvothe deciphers the Chronicler's super-duper-complicated shorthand system in a matter of minutes that had me let out my first gigantic groan. But on a less superficial level, it was just pretty clear that the book was Not For Me.

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Dan H

at 10:14 on 2012-01-20I think that's a fair assessment. This is one of those books where people will tell you to stick with it because it gets better, when in reality it just gets more like itself, which means people who like it start to like it more, while people who don't like it get more and more irritated.

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Dan H

at 20:18 on 2012-01-20Double-posting like a noob, it occurs to me that the bit where he deciphers the Chronicler's shorthand system is a particularly sensible breaking point, because it's not amenable to all of the "unreliable narrator" arguments that apply to most of the rest of Kvothe's Mary Sue qualities. He might be lying about everything else, but he can't be lying about that.

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Michal

at 05:14 on 2012-01-21Well, I did feel particularly sensible at that moment. The framing narrative, at least from my meagre experience of the book, seems to serve more to affirm Kvothe's awesomeness rather than subvert it (he, like, kills demon spiders and knows magic and is super-smart and stuff!).

Are there any inconsistencies in Kvothe's narrative in this book or the next one? Because his voice, when telling this story, is essentially the same as that in the frame, but with an "I" swapped in for the "he". The guy recalls long inconsequential conversations his parents had when he was young in a way that doesn't suggest he's just embellishing and making shit up on the fly. And yes, this is typical of first-person narratives, but I've only really seen bad historical fiction framed in such fashion (

Aztec

comes to mind), and in those cases, we're meant to trust the tale-teller's perfect recall.

I have a feeling I've been spoiled in thast few books I've read that used the first person, and was just disoriented by the fact that no, I

didn't

need to pay close attention and peel back the narrative voice to find out what was really going on. No "wait, the towers are space ships?" moments in

The Name of the Wind

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Dan H

at 21:15 on 2012-01-21

There aren't any inconsistencies I can recall (although I might be missing something super-duper subtle). And you're right that there's no meaningful difference between the third-person narration and Kvothe's narration. As with most framing devices, Rothfuss only really pays lip-service to the notion that Kvothe is supposed to be reciting this story from memory.

#Ferretbrain #The Kingkiller Chronicle #Patrick Rothfuss #Dan H

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