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souichioneshots · 4 years ago

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Untitled Binzo x Reader Fic

SO uhhhh.... Binzo thinks about the reasons why he hates Y/N so much? IDK you guys are kinda like frenemies ???

This is the stupidest thing ive ever written...

Might make an NSFW continuation of this if anyone shows any interest tho lollll

Enjoy?????

Binzo could remember the day you two first met like it was yesterday.

He had been awoken by the sound of his father and uncle arguing in a nearby room. Although he could barely make out what they were saying, he could tell by the way he was screaming, his father had done something unbelievably stupid again.

As the door to his room slid open, Binzo quickly moved to ‘greet’ the sudden visitor, his chains holding him back just before he was able to reach the door. A smile spread across Binzo's face as he saw his father react in a panicked motion, jumping back to avoid his son's vicious attacks. However, Binzo's laughter was put to a stop when he saw a small figure move behind the older man.

Moving a bit to the side, Souichi revealed a girl, a little under Binzo’s age, who had been hiding behind him the entire time. She gripped onto the back of the false-gentleman’s suit jacket, obviously hesitant to enter the room.

Binzo's eyes widened in surprise as his father insisted, almost pushing her into the room forcefully. His eyes looked the girl up and down, trying to figure out why his father had brought her here, let alone why he decided it would be a good idea to bring her into the same room as him.

Her clothes were almost as tattered as his own. She had no shoes on her feet, but the socks that she wore were stained black with dirt and mud. From what he could see with the little lighting in his room, the exposed skin of her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bite marks. Her cold eyes stared at the pale boy as she walked in cautiously, immediately following the older man to the other side of the room. Binzo could remember how she ran her fingers through his father's greased-up hair as he placed the chains around her ankles. They exchanged a look that his mind could not understand at the time.

Getting up from the dirty floor, Souichi stated that the girl’s name was Y/N. A name so foreign to Binzo that he was sure it was made up.

As soon as his father finally left, Binzo tried to attack you. But, that was when he found out the truth. You were a monster just like him. An abomination that someone must have tried to get rid of, only for his own idiotic father to pick up and bring home like a kitten off the street. You bared your fangs at him as you backed away into the corner, trying to avoid his sudden yet expected attack. Binzo watched as you stayed low on the floor, staring at him with angered eyes.

He should have been happy to finally meet someone like him, but he wasn’t.

Binzo hated you.

You were an idiot. You could barely keep a hold on your victims, and on nights when you couldn’t secure a meal like him, you resorted to trying to catch and eat the bugs that crawled around the room. You were also idiotic enough to try to steal from him. Whenever he would get ahold of someone, you would try to get close and steal a small piece for yourself. Sometimes Binzo would be too busy to realize, but when he did, he would reach out as far as he could and use his long-sharp nails to scratch you away, leaving you to become a crying-hungry mess.

You also had a habit of not responding whenever he spoke to you. However, this was completely his fault. After you finally became comfortable enough to talk to him, he started to tease you, claiming that your voice was annoying and, using a piece of broken glass, threatening to cut out your pretty pink tongue to eat as a snack. From that day on, you didn’t utter a single word to him.

However, as time went by, Binzo started to find your presence to be slightly humorous. Specifically, whenever you tried to feed.

Binzo would always laugh whenever you dug your fangs too deep into someone’s neck and ended up getting completely doused in their blood when you pulled away. He thought it was a waste of a good drink, but worth it to see you freak out as you tried to stop the fast-paced bleeding.

Your hair also grew at an unnaturally fast rate as well. It was disgusting, but fun to pull on whenever he wanted to get your attention. It was also especially fun to watch your victims pull on your hair, stunning you for a moment, and getting a couple slaps and punches in as they tried to get away. But, Binzo wouldn’t allow that, stopping them at the last minute and dragging them back in your direction. However, you would always be too embarrassed and cry, refusing the meal he was kind enough to go after for you.

You were ungrateful. Idiotic. An amateur. Everything he hated bundled up into a small ball that dwelled in the corner of his room.

But on top of all that, the thing he hated the most was how you weren’t here now.

“Where’s Y/N!! Where is she!!” Binzo exclaimed to his physically and mentally exhausted aunt. She just stayed quiet, ignoring the child’s vicious words and actions. If she knew, she would have told him by now, but she didn’t.

Binzo looked around his dark messy room as he tried to think of what might have happened to you. It had been 2 nights since he last saw you.

If you had been moved to another room, he would be able to smell it. But you weren’t. You weren’t anywhere in the house in fact.

Could his father have decided that it was too much for him to support 2 cannibalistic children, and off’d you in the woods while he was sleeping? No way. He was the one who brought you here in the first place, he should have known what he was getting himself into.

Maybe you ran away, not wanting to be held captive and enslaved to work at a lunatic’s haunted house. That would explain why his father was also not around either. Maybe he had gone out in search of his most popular attraction.

No matter the reason, you weren’t here now, and Binzo hated you for that.

As the raven-haired boy finally started to calm down, he laid down in his cage, his eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep their focus on the door of his room anymore.

However, he was suddenly awoken by a loud scream.

It was his aunt. She had left the room, leaving him alone while he was asleep. Her voice was loud, but not angry. It sounded almost cheerful. An emotion he hadn’t heard from her in the longest time.

Binzo jumped to his feet as the door to his room slid open. There stood his father, alone from what he could see, cigar burning away in his mouth as he smiled. Binzo tightly gripped the bars of his cage, a feeling of rage boiled inside him like nothing he had ever felt before.

However, that emotion quickly washed away when he saw a familiar face appear from behind his father.

There you stood. Alive and in one piece.

Just like the first time you two had met, Souichi forced you into the room. Binzo’s eyes looked you up and down as you cautiously walked in. Gripping the hem of the older man's suit jacket, you stared back at the pale boy.

Your hair had been cut, shorter than before. You were also wearing a kimono similar to his aunt. You looked almost like a doll. It was weird how he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

Binzo watched as his father put the chains around your ankles again, your hand running through his greasy hair. You two exchanged that look he couldn’t understand again.

Binzo barely listened as his father warned him not to fuck up your clothes. As Souichi finally left the room, Binzo put his hands on the lock of his cage and, using his nails, undid it.

Crawling out of the cage, he stood onto his feet and he looked at you. Although he was still only in his early teens, he was starting to grow extremely tall, a gene he inherited from his mother no doubt.

Binzo felt his heart start to race as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkled as they reflected the small amount of light that leaked in the room. It was almost like you were giving him the same look you and his father would often exchange.

Without a word, he forcefully shoved you to the ground. “Stop looking at me!” He exclaimed.

You probably thought he was jealous that his father actually let you go out, got you nice clothes, and even treated you like you were an actual human being. But that was far from the truth. He didn't really mean to push you so hard, but his emotions had gotten the better of him.

Binzo yelled out in pain as you kicked him for pushing you so hard. Just before you could kick him again, he moved to straddle you.

Putting his weight onto your stomach, he held your wrists on both sides of your head. You growled as he brought his face close to your neck and took a deep breath. It had been so long since he smelled your scent. However, this time it was different.

“You smell delicious.” He said in a hungry voice, drool dripping from his lips as he showed you his fanged teeth. You squirmed under him, knowing that he didn’t mean that as a compliment. “I thought my dad killed you. But now I see that he just dolled you up so I can do it myself. Kishishishi!” Twisting your head to the side, you dug your fangs into his arm.

“OW! You bitch!” Binzo screamed as he pulled his arm away from you. His long fingernails left a scratch across your face as he slapped you hard.

Baring your fangs once more, you pushed him off of you and rushed to get away. However, your chains didn't let you get far.

Binzo grabbed your legs just before you could go any further. His nails dug into the thick fabric that made up your kimono, tearing it a bit as he pulled you closer to him. Flipping you onto your back, he put himself on top of you.

You squirmed in a panic as the boy wrapped his arms and legs around you, restraining you from getting away. Not having eaten anything in a while, you soon became unable to continue fighting with the monstrous boy.

Binzo’s heartbeat slowed down as you started to relax, his body unconsciously trying to mimic the pace at which you breathed. You whined as he tightened his grip on you a bit more, making sure that you wouldn’t try to slip away from him again.

Pressing his head into your hair, he breathed in the new scents that covered your body. The smell of the brand new kimono you wore mixed with the fruity shampoo you had used made him doubt that you were really the same creature he had shared a room with 2 nights ago.

“Where did you go…?” He asked, his words slightly muffled by your hair.

Your body tensed as he dug his nails deeper into the fabric of your clothes, trying to force a reply out of you, but ultimately receiving nothing back.

He hated that you wouldn’t talk to him…

#binzo #binzo tsujii #binzo x reader #souichi x reader #souichi tsujii x reader #tw//violence?#like binzo is a mean bitch #ahaha #idk what im doing with my life anymore #just take this shit and block me please

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daesungfmd · 4 years ago

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hello! i’m peyton, but you can call me pey for short if you’d like; either is fine by me. i’ve only recently returned to tumblr rp, so i’m still getting back into the swing of things! please....... be patient with me in the meantime. anyway, i’m going to be writing for impulse’s lead vocal & rapper, hwang daesung! go ahead and leave a ♡ if you’re interested in plotting with us and i’ll send you an im asap!

private profile / idol profile / plots / pinterest

daesung is originally from the neighborhood of samcheong in seoul. his mom owns a small salon there, which is where he spent the majority of his time while he was growing up (and where he still spends a lot of his free time nowadays, tbh).

he doesn’t have any siblings & his dad passed away when he was twelve, so it was just him, his mom and the stray cats that they fed. they struggled quite a bit in these times and daesung’s mom often considered selling the salon, but daesung refused to let that happen. he didn’t ask for a whole lot because he didn’t want to make her feel bad.

but! he’s always been very deeply interested in music �� stems a little from memories of just sitting in the family car with his dad and sharing music as well as listening to a busker who frequently performed near his school.

wanted to be a rockstar, which definitely irritated his mom. she wanted to be supportive, but she also wanted him to succeed in life & knew how hard it would be for him to make something like that come true.

regardless, she kept buying him the cds, record players, records, guitars, etc that he asked for around his birthday and the holidays because he never wanted anything else.

a series of strong-willed fights resulted in daesung’s mom finally allowing him to audition for companies. after many rejections, he found his home at gold star entertainment.

he became a trainee in early 2012—so when he was 15—and two years later, he debuted with impulse. during this time, he became estranged from his mother, but after debuting, he began to get closer to her again.

he stayed outwardly optimistic during his time as a trainee, but he didn’t exactly love it and his health was on a steady decline, both physically and mentally. there were times when he wanted to back out because he didn’t want to be an idol, he wanted to be a rock musician, but... he had too much pride to go back home. so he stayed.

during next: origin story, daesung’s poor dancing skills & unfaltering confidence had him framed as an arrogant boy with no shame; furthermore, he was said to be dumb because of how many times certain things had to be explained to him. towards the end of the show, he was able to redeem himself a bit, though.

to be fair............... he is kind of dumb. promoted as the ~4d type~, but it’s not like that image was pulled out of thin air --- he’s more or less the same on and off camera, can’t really differentiate between his work persona and his actual self. the best way i can describe it is that it’s really obvious that he isn’t book/traditionally smart, but he’s intelligent in other ways: emotionally, first and foremost.

anyway! in impulse, the shameless and dense aspects of his personality that the public had already met were molded into a new, more likeable persona... although more likeable is still up for debate. during the debut era, he was very loud, a little too honest, always trying to crack a joke & steal the show.

in his most ridiculous shenanigan so far... he has a nervous habit of scratching his head (also does this when he’s embarrassed — i.e, when someone’s making fun of him) and fans made a compilation of the clips. he took it much further than he should have and made a statement without running it past management about how he’d been scratching because he had lice. never actually had lice, but fans began gifting him with copious amounts of lice shampoo, hair trimmers, plastic gloves, hairnets, etc. management was definitely fed up with him over this... but he found it hilarious.

impulse debuted nearly 7 years ago, so he has toned down his behavior a bit... or maybe the public’s just gotten more used to it? it’s hard to be shocked by him now ‘cause the public’s already seen it all. seen as the kind of idol who has no shame whatsoever.

i intend to push him towards variety whether he likes it or not. he really, really wants to act, but the company’s quite adamant about not letting him do that (for one good reason: he sucks at acting)... so maybe variety’s the next best thing? he certainly doesn’t want to be reduced to the few osts he’s done, anyway. </3

he doesn’t hate being an idol. it isn’t what he wanted, but all things considered, he doesn’t think it’s that bad, either. impulse’s music is a lot better now than it was when they debuted, he’s made a lot of friends who he never would’ve otherwise met & he likes to be known/liked. kinda indifferent about the idol status ig.

for more general facts about daesung... he’s quite the social butterfly. he has many friends, but i imagine that he doesn’t have very many close ones. partially because he doesn’t tend to spend too much time with individuals & partially because it’s hard to break past the superficial layer with him. his fans will claim that he’s the most genuine guy around, but when you actually know him, the constant grin and jokes become a bit unnerving. especially when it’s obvious that he’s not doing well, but refuses to speak about his feelings.

but once he deems someone trustworthy, he’s the king of oversharing. he’s a very open book, will tell you anything you wanna know if he knows that you actually care.

he’s a very affectionate guy, whether he’s close to someone or not. he thinks the world could definitely use some more love (and he’s seen first-hand that idols tend to be the angstiest mfs around), so he’s always looking for a way to brighten someone’s day or at least get the tiniest smile out of ‘em. with people he is close to, he’s usually pretty touchy; likes to hug his friends, rub their backs, ruffle their hair, etc, but his affection is also shown through words of affirmation! if you need an ego boost, he’s here to provide it. thinks his friends are the absolute coolest. with people he’s not close to, he tends to crack jokes to break the ice, try to talk about their interests, pay attention to whatever they have to say. gives spontaneous gifts to friends and acquaintances. likes to spend time with people, too, whether he knows them well or he’s just starting to.

he says “i love you” like it’s his life’s motto. calls up his friends when he’s drunk like, “you know that i love you, right? i really love you. so much... damn. i miss you!!! i love you and i miss you! please come back to me!!!” aka it starts out innocent enough but then he starts sounding like a crazy ex. no worries, though, it’s just your good ol’ friend daesung acting like a fool because it’s been a week since he last saw you. <3

makes spontaneous phonecalls. if he has your number in his phone, he’s definitely called you a handful of times — even if you’re a virtual stranger. i imagine there are plenty of people who’ve probably blocked his number at this point.

he’s interested in fashion, but if he said this aloud, it would be treated as a shocking statement. nothing that he wears is ever in trend. most of his outfits are inspired by ‘90′s fashion, but even taking that into consideration, hardly anyone ever thinks he looks good other than himself. his neon-toned bucket hats, excessively tie-dyed clothes & gaudy accessories result in him getting clowned a lot. it’s very obvious when he dresses himself....... probably not even allowed to pick his own airport clothes.

mcs have joked that he even manages to make expensive brands look cheap with how he styles them. kind of hurts his feelings but it’s okay. <3

he’s super into skateboarding. he didn’t start until after impulse debuted, but he’s gotten pretty good at it with how much he practices in his spare time. has a collection of unique boards & even has his apartment decorated with some furniture made from decks. some fans have definitely met him at skateparks before.

believes in the most outrageous conspiracies — say what you want, but you can’t change his mind about anything. he thinks that aliens are indeed real (and already walking the earth), he thinks that the government consists of people who are not entirely human, he thinks that there’s a huge chance that this world is only a simulation, he thinks that all cryptids are Definitely real (mothman, bigfoot, nightcrawlers, etc) and so on. i suggest not letting him get going about this because he can def sound a little crazy.

specialties: reciting quotes but always getting one word Terribly wrong, misusing and mispronouncing words, getting under everyone’s skin without even really having to try, slapstick humor and making 30 second stories feel 3 hours long.

#fmdintro

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promiscuous-jalapeno · 5 years ago

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Happy Blogiversary! I'm grateful for all the content you've shared with us! And thank you for being here ♥️ If you're still taking requests, I'd like to ask for Silence - a fable or The Man of the Crowd (from the poe prompts) for Jinpachi from SLBP. Feel free to skip this if you don't want to do it, but thank you very much if you do :) Have a great day!

Thank you so much, dear! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ I would be more than happy to! Jinpachi is a fav I love him so much! Also, this really got away from me omg. This is not a drabble, it turned into a one-shot haha.

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{Nezu Jinpachi}

│The Man of the Crowd│following, curiosity, fascination

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It had only been a bit of harmless self-indulgence. That’s what he had told himself. Yet he knew indulgences, albeit even harmless ones, were not suited to shinobi. Jinpachi was unaccustomed to acting of his own accord as he had oft of late, and even in the slivers of downtime, he couldn’t come up with plausible reasoning behind his actions. Aside from the obvious–he had, for the first time, been captivated.

She had twisted her ankle in town when first they met, a heavy basket of daikon and various vegetables toppling into the street. He had gotten her permission before wrapping the delicate thing in a strip of white cloth. And her hand was so small as it slid into his for support. Soft. Is this what a woman’s hand feels like? Later, he’d ponder if perhaps only hers could feel that way against his skin.

“Thank you, I’m sorry to trouble you,” she apologized, and Jinpachi had not missed the wince as she stood. Nor the way the sun’s rays illuminated her face as she looked up to him with a smile. It made his heart knot in his throat.

But he was an expert at hiding even this. He was practiced. He was calm. The unreadable expression so many had deemed aloof would come at his benefit, after all.

“It’s nothing. But can you walk?”

“My restaurant isn’t far from here, I can manage,” she hobbled.

Jinpachi’s face pulled from stoic to troubled frown. “If it’s not far, then allow me to assist you.”

“I couldn’t possi-”

“Forgive me,” Jinpachi interjected. He had already extracted the basket from her grasp and was now wrapping an arm around her waist in support.

He couldn’t help but notice the beautiful blush on her face when they finally made it inside the establishment, and she had a hard time making eye contact after he placed her at a vacant table. Had he done something uncouth?

He had only touched her enough to be of help, he frowned pensively. Yet she continued to stumble over her words. The more she attempted to conceal her flushed face the more desperate he grew to see it. It’s not as if he had never seen a woman’s blush before, however. Women fell over themselves for a chance to blush at his Lord. But this…this was different. She was different. Somehow.

Despite his protests for her rest, she cooked for him in gratitude. And when he ate at his usual rapid pace she laughed. Oh, heaven. She laughed! And the sound sent him choking on a mouthful of rice.

“I’m sorry,” she finished laughing. The melody faded into her light pants like the sound of rustling leaves carried off on autumn wind. “That was rude of me, wasn’t it.”

“No, I’m…often told my eating habits are strange.” Among other things, he thought, shifting his gaze uncomfortably. No matter how many times he’d heard the remarks about his peculiar stoicism or the speed at which he ate, there was simply no changing the habits of one such as a shinobi. That did not, however, make him less self-conscious in the present moment.

“I’m not laughing because I think it’s strange,” she corrected. “I laughed because, in a shocked sort of way, it made me happy.”

Happy? Now who was the strange one, he thought. This was the first time anyone had regarded him with normalcy. Aside from Nobuyuki, that is. But Nobuyuki was far from normal, himself. The confusion must have registered on his face, and she explained while pouring more tea.

“You ever feel like you were just born to do something?”

Yes. He gave a nod.

“Well, that’s cooking for me. My father left this restaurant before he died. I guess in that sense, I would have ended up a cook either way, but…I’m lucky to love what I do every day. Seeing people enjoy my food like you just did, well, it gives me great pride. So yeah, I was happy to see you eat so quickly.”

“Is that so…I’m sorry about your father.”

“It’s alright,” she sighed wistfully, “his memory lives on in the recipes, at least. Would you like some more?”

Yes. He gave a nod.

──────

That night he couldn’t forget her. What if she fell in town again? Trouble always seemed to follow women as kind as she. And what’s more, the whole reason they had come to Kyoto was to track thieves fleeing Sanada lands. What if she had been accosted while mindlessly thinking about recipes?

What if they happened upon her restaurant and caused trouble? The blame would be his, in his failure to apprehend. Yes, he had a duty. Yes, he decided. Maybe he had better check on her once more.

Out of sight, he watched her day. Her early morning service prep and the elegant way she tied her sleeves back, hands of grace chopping vegetables into uniform bits while she hummed to herself.

He watched her the day after. And the day after that.

The way she lit up the town when out went shopping for ingredients. Jinpachi couldn’t help but smile at the charming way she held up each bit of produce for inspection. She was a curious one, indeed. He didn’t know what she was looking for.

She’d sniff and poke and weigh two against each other in her hands, quirking an eyebrow with pensive concentration. He couldn’t understand what drove her to care at such lengths over a simple onion or radish, but oddly enough, that made it all the more endearing to watch.

He felt a twinge in his chest when a young grocer stepped a little too close to her one afternoon.

“A discount again? But there’s nothing wrong with these…I couldn’t accept, I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you,” she kindly protested.

“Don’t be silly! Look, I’m stopping by your restaurant after I close up shop here. If you’re still feeling guilty you can always treat me to some sake, on the house,” he grinned. “Even better if you decide to share it with me.”

This guy…there was no mistaking that tone and what he was implying. Jinpachi’s lips pressed into a thin line…Using a favor as leverage against her. He wanted to tell him as much, but meddling was never his forte.

Besides, what if she was actually interested in his company? The thought turned his stomach. Still, such an underhanded tactic…he waited until she left and settled for hurling a hearty pebble at his head. Cocky smile growing on his face when the man yelped, rubbing the wound and looking up at the sky in confusion.

And the man did show up that evening as promised, but she paid him no more mind than any other customer. She smiled as she did for everyone else. She poured only when necessary. And though his eyes were trained on her, she seemed fixated on stealing glances at the door.

──────

Her path to and from shopping had a few rough spots. Thieves and gamblers and drunks loitering around. The usual. Too dangerous to be left alone, surely. But nothing he could not handle in a day. Those that couldn’t be verbally threatened away were subdued so easily he hadn’t the need to use weapons at all.

“You’re back awfully fast!” he heard her mother exclaim.

“It’s the craziest thing,” she huffed, placing the heavy produce on the counter before throwing her hands on her hips, “all of the shortcuts home have been practically empty lately.”

“Now that you mention, the crime around here seems to have gone down. I wonder what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is I hope it stays this way,” she laughed.

Jinpachi smiled.

──────

When visiting her father’s grave she was surprised to see a bundle of fresh vibrant flowers already placed. Curiously she picked them up to examine them, looking around for a sign of anyone else on the lonesome hill. The only answer a silent swift breeze.

──────

The day he saw her eyeing a peach a little too long, he couldn’t resist buying it. Finding a way to slip near her in the crowd and toss it at the top of her basket. The surprised noise she made when she arrived home and discovered it was gift enough for him. And the pleasured ‘Mmm’ she made when she bit into the juicy thing, even more so. She looked around curiously, clutching it between her palms like a treasure.

──────

It was best this way. He was comfortable in this. Ever the invisible hand from the shadows. He needn’t glory nor recognition for his deeds, these small moments were enough. But it never occurred to him that he might simply be frightened at the idea of anything else.

Not until this night, when she had closed up and sat alone, her family all gone to sleep. A single bright lantern and her gaze fixed at the door. He wondered what she was thinking, her cheek resting in her palm as she sighed. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping. Or was she was ill? He hoped she wasn’t.

But then he watched her reach into her sleeve and retrieve something in a balled fist. He wasn’t thinking anything, then. Time slowed. Finger by dainty finger she unfurled. Eyes trained down she untangled a familiar white strip of cloth with care.

He was thinking everything, then.

Eyes wide and heart racing he left as fast as he could manage. It couldn’t be. He’d imagined it. Surely, he did. It was something else. It didn’t matter, either way...he wasn’t staying in Kyoto.

“You’re rather late again.” Nobuyuki’s brush stilled before he placed it on the writing desk. His face was illuminated by dancing lantern light.

“Forgive me,” was all Jinpachi replied. He had been concentrating on the evening of his breath. Shutting the shoji behind him, he quietly took a seat against the wall. If he spoke now, Nobuyuki would surely catch on that something was amiss. He was far too clever for anyone’s good.

“Jinpachi.”

Oh no. “Yes, My Lord.” He knew that tone.

“Who is she?”

Oh no…How? “She?”

Nobuyuki smiled. “Your thoughts are preoccupied, you arrive late almost every evening. And you apprehended the bandits days ago…or did you think I would not find out?”

“I…” It was not as if he was purposefully hiding that fact. Though, he had told himself he might have missed one somewhere. That one had gotten away. That they needed to stay a little longer, to be sure. Absolutely sure. Perhaps it was all just a selfish excuse after all. Suddenly, he felt terrible.

“Come now,” Nobuyuki laughed lightly, shrugging it off, “no need to look like a child caught sneaking sweets. I was beginning to think I’d never get to see this side of you, old friend.” His face fell into a more serious expression, and he picked up the brush once more. Making one last point before turning back to his work. “But we depart for Ueda in two days’ time. I trust you know what I mean by that.”

Yes. He nodded. “By your will.”

──────

If she did not remember him, it would be just as well. And why would she? He was quiet and near impossible to understand. They had only met once. If he walked in and she gave him the usual empty courtesies, he would drink he tea and leave quietly.

Had what he seen the night before truly been a mirage built from exhaustion and buried hopes, that would be alright. But if she did remember him, then maybe…No. It was not likely.

The town was painted in scarlet when he finally had the restaurant in his sights. He’d faced death countless times over. He’d been surrounded by enemies, sword to sword with foe’s in battle, yet nothing gave his heart chase like parting that noren and stepping inside the mouth of fate.

“Jinpachi!” she beamed immediately. The face he had grown to love cheerily peeked out from the back room. He could swear she practically skipped to him from the kitchen. “I was…hoping I’d see you again.”

#Jalapeno Blogiversary #slbp #samurai love ballad party #slbp jinpachi #nezu jinpachi #slbp fanfic #my writing #Anonymous

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consciouswhispers2929 · 5 years ago

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The Irony of Life

"Thank God it's Friday!" Shouted Maggie as she punched her left fist in the air. She had a smile of relief on her face which pronounced her beauty. She had the deepest dimples on both of her cheeks and she had maroon lipstick with lip gloss on top. her lips weren't too fat but not small either, just the right size to compliment her small dark eyes. She wasn't light skinned but she wasn't dark either. She was brown like a doughnut. Her nose was small but round. Her cheeks were red because she always had make up on. Presentation meant everything to her, it's what her mother taught her ever since she was a little girl. Looking her best was part of her obsessive compulsive personality because she was always concerned about making a lasting first impression. She had her new weave going on from the hours she sat getting it done and she always bought human hair, no synthetics. This hairdo suited her more than the last one she had. Again, presentation meant everything. She had removed her light scarf cause it was hot outside, so she was left with a stylish white top that she got from a killer sale just two weeks ago. It's amazing how much time, money and energy she would spend on buying the perfect clothes. She never really liked repeating clothes cause she could afford that level of extravagance. These are probably the reasons why she was poached to work for a leading advertising agency in Nairobi. To put her in a summary, she always knew how to present herself. She wore a grey pencil skirt with purple stripes and a small slit at the back, reaching just above the knees. She was bow legged but she didn't care. And she had flat open shoes with a distinctively African design. Of course she never had any hair under her armpits, presentation was everything, remember? Apart from looking a certain way, she was also very particular about the way she smelled. She had a collection of limited edition perfumes and was wearing one today. God forbid she'd walk the streets of Nairobi to find another woman smelling like her too.

"I don't even know where this energy of yours is coming from," Bruce sighed, "I've sat down for so long in this seat yani mpaka my ass cheeks are wet."Basically, he didn't care anymore when he was that tired and wanted to go home. And by home I don't mean an the actual house where his parents lived because he couldn't stand their energy. So he used uni as a reason for getting out of the house to "open his eyes" a bit. His accommodation was the best that money could buy cause he was in the dorms. He could use the meal though, it was a good fast food joint they were in at the moment. It just opened a couple of months ago but they were doing well for a new start up business. Pepinos usually attracted the younger generation. He was 23 and Maggie was 20. They were waiting for Halima who was coming into town from her parents pharmacy in the Westlands branch, so you can probably guess what she was studying. As they both heard the stomping of footsteps climbing up the stairs Bruce and Maggie both gave the exact reaction of surprise of glancing at the metal staircase, curious to know whether it was Halima. And as sure as day it was. As Halima was climbing up the stairs, Bruce returned his eyes to the large chicken tikka pizza they had ordered and were planning to eat together. Maggie flashed a smile at Halima and went to her bad to remove her phone to check for any messages on What's App. She was constantly preoccupied with online presence regardless of what platform she was surfing. Bruce did a quick glance at Maggie, curious to know what she was reading and then returned his eyes to Halima who was now approaching their table that was one of the three tables close to the staircase. He had a long face and pronounced cheek bones. He was one of those annoying few who could eat anything he wanted and never get fat. He always used to dress like a hippie and today was no different. You could always tell what he was feeling on whatever day just because of the way he chose to dress. He shaved a week ago but the facial hair was partially growing back. His hair was thick and he loved afros but it couldn't grow too long, he just never shaved his hair, even when it was too hot. He kept a pink comb or any bright coloured comb in the back pocket of his jeans, just in case the girls were messing with his fro again. He had a habit of always taking shots with the comb in his hair. Maybe it was his fear that he would one day go bald like his uncle, the worst kind of baldness comes from his dad's side. He takes after his dad. Bruce had an amiable appearance, you could never find anyone who hated him. As he stretched out his right hand with a welcoming gesture to Halima, Halima sighed as she dropped her bag on the table.

"If you took any longer I was gonna take your pieces walahi." Bruce joked. "I won't leave this place until you buy me a meal." she challenged, "Ati you're telling me I've walked all that way from the stage and I eat nothing when I come here. You're joking with me."Maggie laughed and returned her attention to the two. "How come you took so long? The stage isn't that far.""Some jinga got caught stealing at archives." her eyes popped, "I left them chasing him huyo jamaa ako lucky, I think he hepad. Mwanzo he looked like he doesn't shower. Eh bana that nigga looked rough, skin and bones. You're not catching that nigga." They all laughed. It's a hard knock life."Woiye.. Okay, maybe he just needed something to eat." suggested Maggie. She was always about equality. She believed that everyone deserved to have an equal chance to live a meaningful and fulfilling life even though that wasn't the reality for many.Halima tucked herself into her seat next to Maggie as Maggie and her eyes were level now. "What do you expect when there are no jobs?"Halima suddenly frowned as if she was shocked by the statement and sort of shook her head gesturing disagreement. She lifted her right hand and opened her mouth, paused and as she was tapping the table she gently remarked, "The government can't give jobs to everyone. They can appoint some people but they cannot appoint more than say 800,000 people. What the government needs to do is to give opportunities for people's businesses to thrive. That way more people will be employed in the long term because of the expansion of these businesses. The government can't give everybody jobs. I mean, does that mean that I can start stealing now and blame it on the government? That's not a valid excuse or decent source of income to sustain your livelihood.""i'm just trying to play the devil's advocate for this guy, because it seems that no one ever empathises with the situation of a thief - hear me out..." Maggie replied while raising both her hands at both Bruce and Halima because that comment clearly triggered them. Maggie placed her smartphone on the table and was playing around with it as she was trying to explain herself. She knew she had to come up with a solid defence to support that statement."Some of these people who are stealing don't know how else to make a meaningful income to feed their loved ones. Some of them aren't properly educated and if they're educated they can't be employed. They come from rough neighbourhoods where all that makes sense to them is they have to do whatever it takes to survive. I'm a marketer, Halima you're a pharmacist, you work in your parents business. Bruce is a writer. You realise the fact that we've reached uni and we're almost done is something a majority of the poor can only dream about. Even if they were willing they're not able. A majority of the working class are in jobs they never wanted but have to work in so they can bring food to the table. I guess what I'm asking is, what advice would you give the poor? Because it seems like poor people are blamed for being poor, and yet when they were born, they simply found themselves as being poor."

Halima was silent as if she was contemplating her next response. Bruce suddenly jerked in his seat and leaned in saying, "I think the problem here is that those who can do something for man like the one you just met Halima, either do nothing or cause more damage than good. The question that Maggie is asking needs a deeper reflection on our individual moral compass and current societal problem. Look... I hate politics and if you ask me we are headed to anarchy because that seems to be a system that would be best suited for the typical African but that's not what I was driving at. I choose to be apathetic because I'm aware of my potential and limitations. My goal in life regardless of what circumstances befall me, is to make a positive change in the environment that I live in - in my own way. Shakespeare knew what he was saying when he said that there is nothing neither good or bad but thinking makes it so. But it has to start with having the conversation. And that is, do we know what is moral or immoral anymore when there are so many gray areas?" Bruce asked while his eyes were bouncing between them with a serious look of concern on his face. And he had a valid point because technically speaking, everyone thinks they have an idea of how a moral life should be lived. Everyone creates gray areas around such matter when it affects a certain area of personal individual inclinations. Halima picked up her first slice of pizza and took a small bite. Then while she was flinging it in her hand, you could tell she was trying to chew it as fast as possible to give her sentiments. She said, "You know, it's easy to empathise with a thief when it has nothing to do with you. But sympathising with one is another thing all together. You already know the guy stole because he honestly thought he had no other means of making a living." she murmured and swallowed, then took a sip of the soda she had poured from that litre of coke they bought for the three of them. "The only reason why we would sympathise with this man is because we would want remorse too if we were forced to go to those lengths to survive. But when we are the ones he would be stealing from... even if he was just trying to survive, it would be a whole other scenario in our minds. One that blocks us from feeling remorse for the very same person or even someone like him."

Bruce looked down at the table with a smile of agreement. Maggie put her right and bony elbow on the table, letting out a huge sigh. "It just sucks that the only time when human beings care about such a person is when they are directly affected yet they never do anything to help the person. Because I'm sure that when we leave this table, the guy still has the same problems and people just like him. The solution will always be elusive for as long as no one wants to have the conversation." she said while spinning her phone with her left hand. For a few seconds there was a piercing silence because the reality of that statement hit home. Then after a long pause, Halima adjusted her bright gray hijab and placed her hand on Maggie's left to stop the phone from spinning. "Have you reached out to my dad yet about the advertisements in Parklands? I haven't seen him since morning cause I was in the Lavi branch today." she asked Maggie, trying to change the subject at what appeared to be a dead end to that conversation."He just wanted to know about the rebranding?" Maggie asked while she took a sip of her coke, "I need time but I have his number."Bruce lit up and sat back in his chair, "You marketers think you have creativity but you'll never have a way with words like a true linguist.""There's a reason why writers don't make money my friend," she replied, "all that writing wouldn't be necessary if you people just learned to get straight to the point.""Yeah, you clearly don't have an appreciation for art." he laughed and noticed Halima give a sly smile to Maggie."There's nothing wrong with preferring movies over books. Saves the hassle of reading for like a month and you know the way I'm a slow reader." she frowned."It's not a crime. Just open your mind." Halima commented, "Life is a story of loops and webs. The loops are when history repeats itself. The webs are what connects us to one another. Life is about creating the perfect story.""Exactly!" Bruce exclaimed while pointing at Halima, "You can't just put it in some 2 hour movie, sometimes it doesn't do justice."Halima shrugged. Maggie pushed the cup she was sipping aside as if to say she was full. She put her phone in her bag, stood up and added, "I don't know what you people are sniffing, but I have to hand go back to ngara and pick the key to the house. I'm going home this weekend, no way in hell I was gonna was gonna wash all that laundry.""Millenials." Bruce teased, to which both Halima and Maggie answered, "You're a millennial." and they all laughed. Maggie picked her bad and left.

After stopping by at her hostel in ngara, Maggie was just about to leave the house with her handbag and what appeared to be a bag full of laundry. She locked her gate and proceeded to walk towards the stage. It was just after seven and the sun had already set. She was strolling but cautiously scanning her surroundings in case people were up to mischief since it was getting darker and darker. The only lights near the stage were the new lights on the road and houses nearby that were slowly lighting up as every home was easing their way into the night time. A totally different time for a totally different reality in Nairobi. She was weaving through the pedestrians that were all busy going somewhere. Some were walking in her direction headed for the stage home, when she noticed a stranger bumped into her in a manner that seemed deliberate. Instinct made her check her right arm where she was carrying her bag. She forgot to zip her handbag cause she left in a hurry."Shit!" she noticed her phone was missing. "Shit!" she said more loudly this time and looked back at a guy who started walking more briskly and that turned into a jog as he rushed to cross the road. A skinny man with a simple blue shirt and black jeans. As the big buses started rushing to enter town through globe round about, at least three of them zoomed by before she could get another look, still rustling through her bag. He was gone. It was then that she remembered that the only reason we would sympathise with a thief is because we would want some remorse too if we were forced to go through those lengths to survive. Halima's words were ringing in her ears, "But when we are the ones he would be stealing from... even if he was just trying to survive, it would be a whole other scenario in our minds. One that blocks us from feeling remorse for the very same person or even someone like him."Maggie shook her head, laughed in disbelief, clicked her tongue and said, "Are you fucking serious?"

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