#fujimoto loves to hurt his audience…….

[tariah23]

If look back is getting a movie fr, I swear I’m gonna start bawling rn

[savonline]

chainsaw man 167 thoughts

contains major spoilers

tw: sexual assault

Alright, I'll admit this chapter caught me super off guard. I'm aware of the themes of the story. I'm aware denji has been assaulted before. But to see it so explicitly... Just not what I was expecting this week.

Watching this happen to Denji again, at what is the lowest point of his life, after he's beginning to grapple with his hypersexuality being a problem. This chapter was painful. We as an audience know it was Yoru, not Asa. But Denji does not know that. He saw Asa as the one girl he kissed that didn't try to hurt him or use him. He genuinely liked her.

I'm not sure how he will react after this. If he will even process what happened. Whether he will recognize he was assaulted or assume he was supposed to be happy because of his body's response. I know sooner or later all of this sexual trauma is going to break him. It breaks my heart to see it

And Asa... my heart breaks for her too. To have her body used in that way when she already has made it clear how sex repulsed she is. How is she going to cope, knowing her trust in Yoru is shattered, knowing she hurt Denji who doesn't understand what she is, knowing Yoru used her in that way and she's still sharing a body with her

I'm not going to stop reading of course. I don't even think it was a bad decision on Fujimotos part. And I understand why it was portrayed the way it was. I mean, I read through goodnight punpun and really loved it. This clearly is not a topic I think is untouchable.

But also, the fandoms responses have been extremely disappointing. Between people who are making light of the situation not even seeing it as assault, and the people going "lol you're upset over just that? You clearly haven't read [insert dark thing here]" like no maybe I'm just someone who still experiences emotions when reading media

I'm looking forward to seeing the consequences of this chapter in the story. I'm trusting Fujimoto to continue to handle these situations well.

And for those who are no longer reading after today's chapter, that's okay and understandable. I have ptsd, and this chapter genuinely was a hard read. I wish you all the best.

Here's to next week and the copium I suffer from in imagining Kobeni will show up any day now...

[cruzandouniversos]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist, Harry Potter - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Okumura Yukio/Harry Potter, Okumura Rin & Okumura Yukio, Okumura Rin/Harry Potter, Mephisto Pheles/James Potter onesided, Fujimoto Shirou/James Potter, Fujimoto Shirou & Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Okumura Rin, Okumura Yukio, Fujimoto Shirou, Mephisto Pheles, James Potter, Shima Renzou, Suguro "Bon" Ryuuji, Miwa Konekomaru, Amaimon (Ao no Exorcist), Moriyama Shiemi Additional Tags: Demon Harry, demon james, AU, kill the fucking Dursleys Summary:

“The resemblance is so very uncanny, it is rather startling,” Mephisto said, his voice holding a pinch of awe in it as he hummed to himself, his dark eyes taking in the slumbering child on his lap. Memorizing the fluffy red curls of the child, the soft and smooth pale skin unfortunately covered in cuts and bruises and cherub like features the child seems to own. Indeed not a lot of children in True Cross citadel could ever have such a face as lovely as this one, nor could not a lot claim that they can come close, but that does not give Mephisto the excuse to look at the child as if he is some prize to be won.

The child of another demon is discovered by Father Fujimoto, or rather he came through a door that was supposed to be a door leading to the bathroom where the child just suddenly burst through full tilt running away from an obese man who was trying to hurt the said child. Father Fujimoto saved the child and from there everything just spirals down to madness after.

Not that he minds, another brother to his twins, an adorable and sweet addition to his family.

There is just one problem...Why is the said demon child's father living with them of all things?

[stagelightshineonme-blog]

Intro Post!

Hello everyone, my name is Gore, I’m 24 years old, and seriously surprised to be here, but very glad to be in this group! I use they pronouns, or any really, no wrong answers there- I hope to get along with all of you, and if I do slip up please just feel free to let me know!

In this game I go my boy Izumi Fujimoto! He’s a musical actor, and a very soft young man. Don’t be shy about interacting with him, he couldn’t hurt a fly, and would probably definitely apologize for being bumped into.

Would your oc know Izumi?

If your OC was interested in musical theater, or theater as a whole, chances are they would have heard of Izumi, he’s been rising to stardom pretty quickly and has quite a fandom, especially online

Recordings of his performances are on YouTube, so if your OC did a simple google search would doubtlessly bring those up very quickly

If they were in Japan about two years ago, they will likely have at least heard his version of ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’, which proved a surprising hit especially with teen audiences, and really brought up his fame. It was playing in shops and cafes, and of course by a whole lot of people themselves.

If your OC is really into 80s stuff, or into sports, they will know his father, Itsuki Fujimoto, who performed as wrestler The Emperor in the USA for a short time during the 80s. His career was ended abruptly when he was injured in the ring.

Similarly, wrestling knowledge would quickly have them connecting him to his siblings- five brothers and one sister- who are all wrestlers (though in Japan, not America this time) and look much tougher and more dangerous than him without exception.

OOC

I am fine with just about anything: shipping, drawing art, whatever you want to do, feel free to do it! Drop me a note if you want to plot something, maybe think he could help out with an event you have planned, I am usually down with anything!

Trivia

Izumi starred, most famously, in Grease, West Side Story and Wizard of Oz, and actually played only female roles this far in his career (Sandy, Maria and Dorothy)- he’s a tenor known for his impressive range and high notes.

He is the youngest in his family, with six older siblings.

Izumi has an amazingly soft and sweet voice, and mostly speaks very quietly- it’s quite possible no one has ever heard him yell, and even his laugh is more of a quiet chuckle for the most part.

His grades are actually horrible. He’s always had trouble in school.

He really loves pumpkin spiced anything, and enjoys hanging out at cafes greatly.

Despite his composed, polite appearance, Izumi’s interests go more into the direction of simple trashy romance novels, romcoms and of course musicals. He has very simple tastes in that regard, and is known to be a bit of a daydreamer.

Izumi always takes care to be well dressed, though he prefers a boho-hipster-sort of approach, with flowy, wide clothes featuring quite often in his outfits. He also has a special love for including flowers in his style.

[hdecidveye]

For @3chocolatechipcookiesplease in the @haikyuuwriters secret santa exchange! I hope you enjoy it.

Merry Christmas!

Title: Festive Rating: General Audiences Pairing: KuroKen Word Count:  1607 Summary: “He considers just confessing. It’s the easiest way to get everything sorted out. But it’s a difficult thing to do. He’s not one for expressing his feelings in such a straightforward way. He finds himself convinced he needs to give him worth the world. What does he have to offer? Nothing.”

Kuroo’s parents aren’t big on Christmas. They aren’t grinches, not at all. It’s his maternal grandmother who is the real grinch. It’s more that his parents don’t emphasize Christmas. They don’t decorate or buy a tree or tell their children of Santa. They aren’t spirited, and don't give their children more than one gift.

Kuroo doesn't mind. Not until his friends at school tell him all about the stuff their parents do during the holidays. They come in with new toys and clothes like it was their birthday. He wonders why his parents don’t do the same.

The family moves to Tokyo when Kuroo is seven. During the drive he overhears his older brothers hoping their parents will learn to be more festive. He agrees.

They later learn that one family is festive enough for the street. Decorations appear from thin air when the neighborhood wakes on December first. Fake pines topped with red ribbons line the way to the door where a wreath of pine cones and leaves sits. Reindeer made of brown wire eat at the grass and lounge on the porch. The golden lights hurt Kuroo’s eyes the first few nights but when he can finally admire it, he decides the family inside must be very happy.

Later he learns it is not a very happy family. The mother and father are rarely seen in the same room. Their only son has no close friends. Kuroo makes it his life goal to be close with that boy.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

In Kuroo’s third year of middle school, he and Kenma celebrate Christmas in the gym with the volleyball club. The team decided on holding a secret santa event back in November and agreed to meet up at the gym to exchange gifts. The vice captain, as a surprise, brought a platter of cookies along with him.

“They’re homemade,” he says when asked. “My dad love baking.”

He withholds the cookies until gifts are exchanged and opened. Their ace plays holiday music in English, which most of the team takes turns trying (and, for the most part, failing) to sing along. But they can agree it’s fun. Kenma almost looks like he’s holding back a laugh.

Kuroo tells the vice captain stories about Kenma who, currently, is playing the game his secret santa gave him. He must’ve told these stories a million times but Fujimoto is kind enough to listen yet again.

“It must be nice knowing someone so long,” Fujimoto says. He once mentioned having no childhood friends, and not making any close friends until late last year.

Kuroo nods, leaning back against the wall, “It is. He’s quiet but we understand each other. He’s amazing and I love ‘im.”

“How so?” Fujimoto asks. It’s an innocent question, at least it sounds as such, but Fujimoto is the kind of guy who can dig through another’s inner self. He’s scary like that.

“Good question,” Kuroo says. “Ask me again later.”

He considers it that night when he’s supposed to be sleeping. He feels silly - weren’t emotions simpler than this? - but it keeps him up until two hours before his alarm is meant to go off. He decides he’ll figure it out in the morning.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

Kenma begins avoiding Kuroo. He can’t pinpoint when it starts but he knows it’s happening. He doesn’t answer texts or calls, though it’s not like he says a lot anyways, and when he sees the other he makes a point to avoid at all costs.

And all because of stupid emotions. They’re not a difficult thing to figure out. He is in love with his childhood best friend. He knows it’s a cliché movie plot but that doesn’t make it any less true and his love any less real.

It’s what to do about his emotions that he can’t figure out.

He considers just confessing. It’s the easiest way to get everything sorted out. And, in the end, at least he’ll know whether or not his feelings are reciprocated. It sounds much better than what’s happening now. He’d rather live with a rejection, guessing it’s easier to get over, than with unanswered questions.

But it’s a difficult thing to do. He’s not one for expressing his feelings in such a straightforward way. He can’t find the courage to do it.

He finds himself convinced he needs to give Kuroo the world. He is a star in the night sky, maybe even a god in the heavens, who deserves everything to ever exist.

And what does Kenma have to offer? Nothing. Nothing worth much, anyways. If he could rid himself of his anxieties then, maybe, he could offer something closer to decent. Until then, anything he could offer is worth less than copper.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

Kenma should’ve known Kuroo would eventually notice. The avoidance goes on for weeks, and he must’ve noticed long before he acted on it.

Interactions become awkward as Kenma’s walls are rebuilt. He goes back in time to when they first met on Kenma’s front porch. He forgets everything about his closest friend - what’s his favorite color? what makes him happy? - and he suddenly feels much like a stranger.

Kuroo is facing Kenma, blocking the door to his house. His hands are stuffed into his coat pockets despite his three layers gloves, and his mouth and nose are hidden behind his scarf. This is it, the confrontation, and Kenma expects it to be some kind of monologue. Kuroo will tell a story from their elementary days, or scold him for letting the walls come back up.

But instead, Kuroo speaks in the softest voice he’s ever used.

“Where did you go? Kenma, where did you go?”

Kenma wants to ask if Kuroo is dumb. He stayed by his side the entire way home, and this is his house. Where is there to go?

“I feel like don’t know you anymore. We met seven years ago, yeah? It feels we’re meeting for the first time today.”

Kenma laughs at himself. Perhaps he was the dumb one for letting this happen. Kuroo is just a boy - not a star or a god - who doesn’t need an offering worth the world. He remembers a promise from his last year of elementary, made because he was more anxious without Kuroo.

In the future, once they have enough money, they will leave for a quieter place. A place where Kenma wouldn’t have to worry about splitting apart or the opinions of actual strangers. He likes this future, not for the extra promises, but for life he’ll lead with Kuroo at his side.

It’ll be great, he thinks in Kuroo’s voice. The one he used when he made the promise.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

Kenma and Kuroo go on their first date on Christmas - the day after the confrontation.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

Kenma’s mother, Atsuko, is a fan of Christmas and decorating. During the holidays every room has its own theme and no two are the same. Yet, despite the difference, she always finds a way to make them blend together to give the entire house a cozy, festive feeling.

Every year Atsuko decorates Kenma’s room to fit a general winter theme. Snowflakes hang from the ceiling and some are stuck onto the walls. Several white trees no bigger than a hand litter his desk and dresser. Blue lights flicker where the walls meet. The usual blue, yellow, and white checkered bedsheets change to plain white and gray ones.

“Your festive room will give me a cold one day,” Kuroo says as he falls back onto the bed. The bottom half of his legs dangle off the edge.

Kenma scoffs, not looking up from his PSP. “You say that every year.”

“Actually, I think,-” Kuroo holds up a finger, “-I’m feeling it right now.”

He lets loose a noise almost as hideous as his hyena laugh, and from the corner of his eye Kenma can see him flailing about.

“Stop that,” Kenma says and kicks his friend off the bed, “Momma’ll get mad.”

Kuroo grabs onto Kenma’s ankle as he goes down and hits the floor with a loud Ack!, frowning when the other doesn’t come along for the ride. The drop was short enough that he never moved. So Kuroo thinks, then, along with a smirk, takes ahold of Kenma’s other ankle and pulls him down.

Kenma punches Kuroo’s shoulder when he recovers from the fall. He takes his PSP, held close in an iron grip during his fall, and continues on with his game.

“Offended.” Kuroo says, rubbing his arm. “I can’t believe you would do such a thing.”

Kenma scoffs again, but this time rests his head on the other’s shoulder. “Stop actin’ like I hit hard.”

“You’ve shattered my heart in pieces.” Kuroo says, sporting an expression like he’s told the greatest joke. He wraps an arm around Kenma and pulls him closer.

“Kuro, I barely tapped you.”

“In pieces, I say! Pieces!”

Later they fall into a silence, content to listen to the other breathing.

✣•✣•✣•✣•✣•✣

Atsuko enters her son’s room holding a tray with two cups of hot chocolate and various pastries. She opens her mouth to announce her presence when she sees Tetsurou and Kenma sound asleep. They are wrapped tightly around each other as if afraid they will lose a companion their grasps loosen.

She leaves the tray on the nightstand alongside a note telling the boys to heat up the drinks if they get cold. She leaves the room, stopping on her way out to smile at the boys, and heads off for her own room.

Her son has found someone to keep in his life, and that makes her happy at every second of the day.

[breziarchive]

4, 11, 12, 16?

04: Have you ever thrown a book across the room?

yes it was one of the Pendragon books by D.J. MacHale, the Quillan games one. it knocked over a glass of soda. the book was unharmed. i don’t even remember what exactly happened to make me do that.

11: What’s your favorite book cover?

oooh this is an interesting one. Honestly any of the Redwall series book covers are my favorite, and i’ll have to put forward Mattimeo because it’s my favorite Redwall book. 

but also, i’m a sucker for this Jane Eyre cover/illustrations by fritz eichenberg

12: Who is your favorite author?

gonna be honest, i haven’t read any books in a long time, i haven’t got any time for it anymore and i just fuckin fail when i try

growing up i loved brian jacques (of course) and dj machale was a huge influence i think, i’ll always remember the training montage loor tried to put bobby through and how he sat on the ground and started crying because it hurt and it sucked and he had no aptitude for it yet. and he was straight up like “you’d think you’d be cool and be a hero but you just are not” or something along those lines. a lot of Bobby’s first person writing probably went into how i write first person with IWRY and stuff. Also a huge influence, especially with first person writing, is Jim Butcher and his Dresden Files series. I have my favorite book from the series signed by him thanks to my brother (the book is Dead Beat)

nowadays i try to get by on short stories. i rarely even read fanfiction, either. but i adore harlan ellison’s stuff, like, to the point where i didn’t wanna finish A Boy and His Dog because i was too invested in it. I do love JRR Tolkien but i hate his legacy. since this counts as an author and an artist, though, Kentaro Miura is honestly one of my biggest role models i just adore his stuff so much and so much of what he does, for better or for worse.

an author i admire but regrettably haven’t gotten far into her stuff is Ursula K. LeGuin.

16: How do you feel about movies based on books?

book-to-script is an art form. for a very stark example, even though i have little to no respect for thomas harris, are the hannibal lecter movies. the scriptwriter for silence of the lambs, Ted Tally, did a fantastic job and elevated the book to the halls of fame with the combined work of the actors (jodie foster and anthony hopkins) along with jonathan demme’s beautiful direction with Tak Fujimoto’s cinematography.

and thennn you look at hannibal and you look at hannibal rising and you just wonder why it didn’t connect with the audience. (red dragon redacted since ted tally did the screenplay for that too, but it was directed by brett ratner so, neh?)

writing a screenplay and pulling the screenplay to life is an act of translation woven through multiple people--thus, it’s a masterpiece when it comes together.

take a look at this every frame a painting video for an in-depth tidbit on how demme and fujimoto tackle a scene with the collaboration of foster and hopkins working off the screenplay that tally translated--not to mention all of the other workers on set that make a scene like this possible.

books to movies can be done, and they can even seem better than the originals (imho i enjoyed legend of the guardians better than the ga’hoole books they were based off of weirdly enough) but because it takes a passionate, artful group effort and because nowadays thanks to harry potter lots of book-to-movie movies are rushed corporate schlock (see: every hannibal lecter movie released after the success of silence of the lambs) and a lot of that precise, careful, artful translation from page to screen is lost or brushed over as unimportant so they can jump on the cashwagon a book is raking in before the book becomes unpopular or outside of mainstream media.

[sighallyy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Okumura Yukio, Okumura Rin, Fujimoto Shirou Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Strength, getting through issues, short one shot for ask Summary:

Yukio was just trying his hardest. He wanted to be stronger, better, faster, able to protect the things he loved.

1860 words ish

Or/ a one shot thing requested by a lovely person on tumblr

For @snkyeager

[darisu-chan]

The Lies We Tell Oursevles, 4

Warning: anxiety attacks, character death, blood, murder, rape mentions

Chapter 4: Breakdown

“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.” ─Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

There were just a girl and a boy in a graveyard. A deafening silence surrounded them. Even nature had quieted down, as if it understood the importance of the conversation taking place around it.

“What?” The girl asked, dumbfounded and even a little disturbed.

“I killed her!” The boy yelled, with all the pain he had repressed over the years. Then, not waiting for the girl’s response, he turned around and sprinted, going anywhere but where he was.

The girl stood motionless for a couple of seconds, and then bolted in the direction the boy was headed.

She was never far behind him, no matter what. And that was the way it was supposed to be. A boy, a girl, and their never-ending dance.

“I ask the witness Kurosaki Ichigo to come forth to the stand.” The prosecutor said with a booming voice.

Ichigo stood up, with shaky hands, and his heart drumming rapidly against his chest. He walked toward the stand, trying to appear confident, although there was a lump on his throat. He took his place, and faced the audience. All eyes were pointedly looking at him. He found his father, and made eye contact with him. The older man nodded, and the questions began, eliciting gasps and shocked faces from the audience and the jury. Others looked at him incredulously. After it was over, he walked shakily towards his seat, and watched in a detached manner how the trial continued, reaching no conclusion. The trial would continue for a day more, as it had been happening since the very start. The jury seemed to be undecided, and more evidence was needed. This attracted the attention of the media, although the police kept all details hidden from the general public.

Ichigo exited the courtroom quickly, not pausing to speak to his father. He passed everyone, and finally reached his destination: an empty restroom. There he locked himself in an empty stall, and puked his guts out. He trembled as he emptied his stomach, while the trial repeated on his head over and over.

“Kurosaki-san, can you tell us what happened on June 17th, 1995?” The prosecutor asked.

Ichigo gulped. “I was walking home with my mother after my judo lessons. It was around six, but it was already dark outside. It was raining.” He said, remembering every detail from that fateful day. It wasn’t difficult to do so. Every detail was embedded in his mind. “I told my mother to change positions with me on the sidewalk.” He added, already far away from the trial.

That day they had been walking, hand in hand, on the rain. He had been wearing a yellow raincoat, while his mother had a pink umbrella, which covered them from the June rain.

“Over here, mom.” He said, as he started walking on the slippery side of the sidewalk.

His mother had giggled. “My, aren’t you my savior?” She told her him fondly, and Ichigo had smiled a toothy grin.

They kept laughing in the rain, when a scene caused them to stop dead on their tracks.

“We saw a young woman, probably a teenager, with short, black hair. She was being molested by a man. I had a bit of a hero complex at the time, so I rushed to her aid.”

“Hey! Stop that!” The nine year old boy had yelled, and then started running towards the girl and the man.

“Ichigo! Wait!” His mother yelled after him.

“I wasn’t really thinking. All I knew was that there was a bad man, and a girl who needed help. I confronted the man. Told him to leave her alone.”

“Leave her alone!” The young boy screamed at the man, whose hand was grabbing the girl’s arm hard, and pulling him towards him.

The man leered at him. He had yellow and malicious-looking eyes, and an unnerving smile. His scarf covered the lower part of his head. “Ah, a hero, I see. And what are you going to do, boy?” The man scoffed.

The little boy puffed his cheeks, and his fists trembled. “I said leave her alone!” And the boy tried one of the attacks he had learned in class on the man. But that didn’t help him much, due to the man’s stature and built.

The man laughed harder, and mocked him. “That sure will stop me!”

And then Ichigo kicked him on the shin, hard.

“I kicked him, and it must have hurt him, for that infuriated him.”

“What happened after that, Kurosaki-san?” The prosecutor inquired, for the witness had grown silent.

“He hit me.”

The sound of the slap resonated hard against the pitter-patter of the rain. The boy stood wide-eyed, his cheek growing red. The man in front of him breathed heavily. He had a crazy look on his eyes.

“Now, you’ve sure done it, boy.” The man whispered dangerously, and took out a knife.

“My mother intervened. Begged him to let me go.”

“Please, let my son go!” Masaki yelled, putting herself between the man and her child.

The man eyed her, with evident lust, for Masaki was an exceptionally beautiful woman. “I’ll let the boy leave, if you stay with me. I can give you a good time.”

His words repulsed Masaki, but she was willing to do what the man wanted for her son. “Fine.”

Ichigo, although not quite understanding the man’s meaning, knew that something was wrong with his words. “No! Mom, don’t go with him!”

“He told her I could leave, if she stayed with him. Of course I didn’t agree, so I attacked him again, and that was my mistake.”

The young child pushed the man away in anger and fear for his mother. Masaki watched horrified, but couldn’t act in time to stop her son. That was the last straw for the man. He hit the child, and kicked him until the boy fell to the ground. As he fell, the boy’s head hit a rock on the ground. The hit left him unconscious.

“Ichigo!” Masaki screamed in anguish. The man laughed.

“The man hit me, knocking me down. The impact was strong enough to render me unconscious.”

“And after that?” The prosecutor inquired.

The man paled, and pushed down the bile that gathered inside his throat. “When I woke up, I noticed a lot of blood everywhere. My mother was on top of me, but she wasn’t moving. I shook her, to try to wake her up, but she didn’t open her eyes. I instantly knew she was dead, and that that man had killed her. Grand Fisher killed him.” Ichigo boldly stated, shocking the audience into silence.

“Objection!” The defendant attorney yelled. “How could the witness remember clearly what happened over twenty years ago? This man could be mistaking my client for someone else.”

“I could never forget the face of that man.” Ichigo replied. When the man had hit him, the scarf had unraveled from his neck, letting the boy see with clarity who was hiding behind it. It was the same face that regularly haunted him in nightmares. “And that man is Fujimoto Kaito, better known as Grand Fisher.” He declared, making eye contact with Grand Fisher, who was looking at him with the same malicious eyes he had that very night. His hair may have become gray, and wrinkles covered his face, but those eyes were the same. Ichigo’s blood boiled, and the only thing he wanted was for the motherfucker to have the same fate as his mother.

After Ichigo’s turn, the prosecutor called another witness. “I ask the witness Morikawa Reiko to come forth to the stand.”

A middle-aged woman stood up and walked to the stand. She trembled as she did, her hands smoothing her black skirt over and over. Ichigo gasped when he saw her. She might have put on more weight, and had aged from the last time he saw her, but Ichigo recognized those frantic eyes and that short, black hair. The woman was the girl from that night.

“Morikawa-san, can you tell us your account of what happened on June 17th, 1995?” The prosecutor asked again.

The woman fidgeted. “I was walking home after going out with some friends. It was raining, but I used to like the feeling of the rain, so I decided to walk on the river bank, where I could feel the raindrops on my skin.”

“What happened next?” The prosecutor continued.

“Well… suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere. He started talking to me.”

Reiko was walking on the river bank, delighting in the feeling of the cold raindrops as the fell on her skin. The sensation brought a smile to her face. It was a regular day for her. Walking home after eating out with friends. Admiring the nature around her, and the people passing by. Little did she know it was all about to change.

“Hey, babe. Where are you going?” A middle-aged man appeared out of nowhere, and started talking to her. Reiko was afraid. She knew the man wasn’t being friendly. He was watching her with lustful eyes.

“He seemed flirty. But there was something weird about him. I was scared.” The woman choked out, as she remembered her feelings from that evening.

“I’m going home.” Reiko said, in her panic not realizing she shouldn’t have said that. She should have ran to the other side of the street, where it was crowded.

The man smirked. “It’s too early to go home, don’t you think?” He took two steps, walking towards her. Reiko walked two steps back.

“I need to go home.” She reiterated, her knees shaking, her heart beating fast.

“Why go home when you and I could have a nice time.”

Reiko gulped. The man grabbed her arm hard. This was it. She was going to be assaulted by this man, or worse.

But…

“I thought he would rape me then and there.” The woman cried. “But then… then a voice stopped him. It belonged to a little boy.”

A boy ran towards them. “Leave her alone!” The boy defied the man, surprising them both.

The man laughed at him, obviously amused by this turn of events. The mother tried to reach the boy, but cars were passing, stopping her on her tracks.

“He told the man to leave me alone. The man laughed at him. He asked the boy what he could do to help me. And then the boy started hitting him. It was obvious his little kicks and punches didn’t hurt him. But then, the boy kicked him hard. The man was no longer amused. He took out a knife, and planned to stab the boy, but his mother finally arrived to the scene, and begged the man to stop.”

“Please, let my son go!” The mother yelled, as she put herself between the man and her child. Reiko admired her bravery, but could say or do nothing. She remained paralyzed.

The man eyed the young mother and smirked. “I’ll let the boy leave, if you stay with me. I can give you a good time.”

Reiko felt sick to her stomach. That man’s lust was unstoppable. Did he plan to rape two women that same day?

The mother, although repulsed, agreed to it, possibly for her child’s sake.

“The man told her he’d let the boy go if she went with him, and had a ‘good time.’ The mother agreed, I think to save her son. But the child wasn’t having any of it. He confronted the man again.”

“No! Mom, don’t go with him!” The child yelled, and grabbed his mother’s sleeve. The mother wasn’t looking at him, but at the man, who was licking his lips.

Reiko wanted to do something, but feared that if she acted too rashly, the man could hurt them. He was armed after all, and seemed like the kind of person that would not hesitate to kill, much less a child. As Reiko thought hard on what to do, the boy did something that caused things to spiral out of control. He pushed and kicked the man away, trying to make him go away. The man wasn’t in the mood for games anymore. He needed to get rid of the child, and fast.

“As the child pushed him, the man hit the poor boy on the face, and then kicked him hard. This caused the boy to fall down, hitting the ground hard. I heard the sound, and for a moment I thought he had killed him, for the boy wasn’t moving anymore.”

Both women watched in horror as the boy fell down, his head making a ghastly sound as it hit the ground.  He stopped moving.

“Ichigo!” The mother screamed in anguish, and rushed towards her son. The man laughed at them.

“The woman, then, confronted the man. She told him she was calling the police. This only angered the man even more.”

“What have you done?!” The woman shouted. She was crying in pain, fear for her child, and pure anger.

“What needed to be done. The brat went too far.” The man answered simply, which infuriated the woman even more. “Now come with me.”

“No!” The mother yelled. “I’m not going anywhere with you! I’m taking you to the police!”

The man raised scowled. “Oh, are you?”

“That’s when he took the knife out again.”

The man attacked in the blink of an eye, stabbing the woman on her arm. Reiko didn’t know who screamed first, her or the young mother. The woman tried to push him away, but to no avail. He was much stronger and taller than her. It was so easy to knock her to the ground. It was so easy to keep stabbing her, and kicking her.

Reiko watched in a horrified fascination as the man kept stabbing the poor woman. Blood rained everywhere as the man kept stabbing the woman, who by then had put herself on top of her son, protecting him from the man. Reiko lost count of how many times they woman got stabbed. She didn’t even know if she was screaming or not. There was just the man, the woman, blood and the rain. Nothing else.

“I don’t know how many times he stabbed her. But at one point, the woman stopped moving, stopped defending herself. When he noticed this, the man stopped stabbing her. Just in time to hear the police sirens, for the people around had watched the scene and called the police. He quickly left, and dropped the knife, sparing me a single glance, as if he was telling me I’d be next.”

The man left as quickly as he had come. Leaving behind a trail of blood and death. Reiko didn’t need to be told to know the woman was dead. Before the police could arrive, the boy woke up. It took him some time to realize what had happened, but when he did, he could not stop sobbing and screaming, calling for his mother. It was the most heartbreaking sound that Reiko had ever heard, and one that would haunt her forever.

“Perhaps Kurosaki-san was then too young to remember the man, but I wasn’t. I was fifteen, and I will always remember his face. And yes, that man was Grand Fisher. I have pointed at him several times, and no one has ever done something. I want this man behind bars for what he did. He not only killed a woman, but destroyed a family.” And with that, the woman returned to her seat, leaving even the judge speechless.

Ichigo stopped throwing up. He tried to stand shakily, feeling dazed. He remembered all the blood at the crime scene, the blood which covered him and drenched him. The woman had said she didn’t know how many times Masaki had been stabbed, but Ichigo did. He had read the report when he was older. 72. That was how many times that bastard had stabbed his mother. She had probably died before reaching that number, which meant the fucker kept going. It was a miracle he hadn’t somehow got stabbed as well. All Ichigo knew was that Grand Fisher needed to be found guilty. Only then, Ichigo could be able to rest.

He flushed the toilet, cleaned his hands, and exited the restroom as if nothing had happened.

Two weeks had gone by since the trial. Grand Fisher had been found guilty not only of Masaki’s cruel murder but of many more gruesome crimes. He was given the death penalty. However, Ichigo was still restless. He kept having nightmares about that day ever since he testified in the trial. His mind repeated those moments in a continuous cycle. He hadn’t gotten any rest. His nightmares weren’t his only problem, though. There were moments in which he zoned out, his mind focused on the memory of his mother. Other times, his heart rate picked up for no reason whatsoever. His hands would shake sometimes, which was an unwanted situation when he was treating a patient. Worst of all was that sensation of dread that invaded him from time to time. Four times already he had had to lock himself in the bathroom, and try to keep quiet his sobs. He’d cry until his throat was soar, and his eyes stung. There was a lump on his throat that wouldn’t go away. It felt like drowning in darkness. There was no way out. His father and Yuzu had noticed the change in him. Perhaps even his wife and child. But he never considered telling anyone. This was his burden to bear. His curse for acting so imprudently that day. He was his mother’s killer, and he needed such a punishment for his sin.

“Ichigo, are you okay?” His wife asked him one night, once Kazui was already sleeping.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” He tried to smile, but it never reached his eyes.

Orhime eyed him carefully. “It’s just… you haven’t been yourself for some time, honey.”

Ichigo scoffed at her. “I already told you I’m fine. It’s all in your mind.”

“But… I’m worried about you, Ichigo.” The way Orihime spoke to him hit a nerve in Ichigo. Her eyes tried to search for answers in his own. The look she gave her was too much. It was like she pitied him. He couldn’t take it.

“I already told you, I’m fine! So quit bitching about it and let me sleep!” He snapped at his wife, something he had never done before. This stroke a nerve on her too.

“How can I know if you’re fine when you never tell me anything?” Orihime cried.

“It’s not something you need to worry about.” Ichigo replied, trying to shrug the whole thing off.

“How come? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m your wife. I’m supposed to know how you’re feeling, and if you need help. But you never confide in me!”

“Why should I? You’re not entitled to know my every thought, my every feeling.”

“But I am! Spouses are supposed to trust in each other. To share everything!”

“There are things you don’t need to know, Orihime. There are things I like to keep to myself!”

“So you don’t trust me?”

“Not with everything.” Ichigo admitted, causing Orihime to sob.

“But why?”

“If you knew them, Orihime, your happy life would be ruined. You wouldn’t take it if you knew.”

“Do you think I’m some simpleton who cannot take pain?” Orihime wondered.

“Yes.” Ichigo said rather quickly.

“So that’s how you think of me.” The woman said, rather brokenly. It was as if her eyes had been opened. “If you can’t trust me, how are we going to make this marriage work?” She asked him, but Ichigo didn’t answer. “If I were her, you’d tell me.” The woman snapped.

He stood up, took his pillow with him, and stormed the room in anger, leaving his wife to silently cry herself to sleep. It was the first time they had ever fought about anything. It was also the first time he’d make Orihime cry, and the first time he truly had felt mad at her.

Ichigo understood where Orihime was coming from, but at the same time couldn’t make himself open up to her. Orihime was a child of the sun, always happy and merry. Her heart would break if she knew how fucked up he actually was. He wasn’t like the princes of the fairytales she liked to read to Kazui. He was a monster. A monster paying for a terrible mistake. His pain couldn’t be shared. It was best if it remained a secret to the rest of the world. He was fine. He could be fine. All he needed to do was pretend, pretend, pretend. Play that game. For there was only one person who could have helped him, but she wasn’t around anymore. She couldn’t help him anymore.

That night he slept on the couch, giving Orihime time to calm down. But he wouldn’t bulge. He wouldn’t tell her about his sins. It’d break her heart.

Unbeknownst to him, he had already broken her heart.

“Found you.” Rukia said the moment she saw Ichigo sitting on a rock, his hands covering his head.

The boy turned to look at her. “What do you want?”

The girl shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you were fine.”

“Well, I am. So leave me alone.”

Rukia didn’t listen to him, and sat down next to him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s going on?” Ichigo asked after some time.

Rukia shook her head. "If I ask, will you answer?” She wondered. “It's your problem. A deep, deep problem. I have no right to know. I don't have a method of stepping into the depths of your heart without getting it dirty. So I'll wait. When you want to talk, when you think it's okay to talk... Talk to me. Until that time, I'll wait." And then she smiled at him so brightly, it dazed him.

Ichigo smiled back.

They remained in silence for a few minutes or hours, they weren’t sure. It was just them in the graveyard, silently enjoying each other’s company. But then, Ichigo turned to look at the girl sitting next to him.

“Rukia?”

“Yeah?” She looked at him with curiosity.

“I think I’m ready to talk now.”