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theinstagrahame · 11 months ago

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It's been a wild few months here at theInstaGrahame HQ, but what never fails to make me happy is the rad games I get from the mail. I'm getting over a cold, so I'mma work on this instead of anything productive I could be doing!

Here's my month of RPG mail calls, and why I'm hyped!

Coriolis: The Last Cyclade: I've been curious about Coriolis' Middle Eastern-themed sci-fi vibes for a while, so I put this on a Secret Santa wishlist; and this is what I got! Excited to dive in.

Curios: Albrecht Manor and Jasper Park: Good Luck Press is one of those game design teams I'll try anything from, and the pitch for this is really unique. It's not an RPG per se, as much as a collection of books, papers, maps, and other materials that point toward a mystery you get to figure out. Playing it is just... looking through stuff.

Salvage Union: I am a big fan of post-apocalyptic media, and a fan of the mecha genre. So, yeah, this was an easy sell. It's built on the Quest system, which I've been meaning to get more into anyway, and it looks like a mech repair manual!

The Zone (which I apparently thought people would just recognize): This game is available for free online, but the box set is gorgeous, and features some designers I love. Trying to set up an online session soon, but I do really want to play it in person.

Deimos Academy: Honestly, I picked it up because of the creative team, but also the pitch is great. I skipped my high school reunion, but if there was a chance to go back and face a monster? I might've thought about going.

Brindlewood Bay + Nephews in Peril: I was originally just going to get the super popular Elderly Detectives Solve Eldritch Crimes RPG, but the title of the expansion/mystery book was just too perfect.

Rebels f the Outlaw Wastes: I've already mentioned I like post-apocalyptica? Well, this took a neat approach to achievements/leveling that I was super intrigued by, and I just dig the fun vibe. The reason I like post-apocalyptic media is that it's hopeful, and this feels moreso than a lot of other stuff.

Skyrealms Almanac and Creatures and Folks: I've been into setting guides this past year. And like, this one is also a coloring book? Hell yeah.

Stoneburner: I've been following the creator on Twitter and elsewhere for a while, so I was curious about this title. But definitely sold when they talked about some of the inspiration being the original Starcraft games.

Forgery: Again, picked it up because I really like Banana Chan's work, but this is a paint-by-numbers solo RPG about forging a demonic painting. So like, yeah. That's rad.

Vast Grimm: Space Cruisers: Vast Grimm is Mork Borg in Space, but I'm also a big fan of ship catalogs, so I really wanted to check this one out.

.Dungeon: Everything Snow makes is beautiful, queer, and nostalgic, so when they mentioned a re-release of .Dungeon was coming, I really wanted to check it out. I have a lot of nostalgia for the

Cloud Empress (everything, including a patch!): I mean, you say Nausicaa and I'm listening. This has some roots in that world, but also does some really interesting things with the Mothership game engine. I'm especially intrigued by the notion of replacing racial traits with age traits, and having a series of pretty mundane jobs as the classes.

Layers of Unreality: The first of this month's Zine Club deliveries! I keep hearing about Liminal Horror, and this particular module I've heard nothing but incredible things about. So I'm really hyped to check out what happens in these backrooms.

Fear the Taste of Blood: My second Zine Club book this month! Kayla Dice is one of those really rad creators who I think deserves more attention than she gets, so I'm really hyped to dive into this take on classic movie monsters.

I also got this from my partner's family's Secret Santa.

Okami is one of those games that sticks with me, and has ever since I first saw images from it, and played it. It's a genuinely beautiful experience, and while it's maybe not a game everyone will like, it's one that I really enjoy, and the art is a big part of that.

It stands out as an example of what you can do with a video game that's nearly impossible with most other art forms, and also a reason that I don't think the Arms Race for More Photorealistic Graphics in video game consoles is worth the effort.

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 2 years ago

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Justice and Duty

Word Count: 3000 (oneshot)

[AO3]

Genre: Crime/Angst

Characters: Hinata Shouyou, Udai Tenma, various Karasuno characters

Summary: Udai Tenma was the legendary heir to a yakuza clan: cold-blooded, terrifying, and everything that new recruit Hinata Shouyou wanted to be. Now, Tenma is going straight, abandoning home and family, and destroying any chance his juniors have of being acknowledged by their hero. Shouyou is having none of it.

Warnings for gang violence, murder, possessive behavior, and brief harm to children.

Written for the HQ Black and Blue zine

~0~

People didn’t like to look Hinata Shouyou in the eyes.

They noticed him, of course, despite how small and slight he was next to his much bigger brothers, but then they very quickly wished that they hadn’t. They tried to pretend that they hadn’t, but they still couldn’t get him out of their heads.

There was an energy around him, a danger, like a live wire. Getting near him felt like creeping towards some wild thing on a frayed tether: those who hadn’t seen him in action felt their skin tingle and their guts start to swim without knowing exactly why. Those who had seen what happened when the tether snapped never forgot it.

Only the truly strong or the truly stupid had no fear of being caught in his line of sight, more terrifying than staring down the barrel of a gun. While once they had been a light, possibly even warm and friendly brown, now the light caught them and turned them amber. They were bright, too bright, always a bit too wide, and his perpetual smiles never quite reached them. Nobody could ever recall seeing him blink.

Likewise, nobody would peg Shouyou as being used for protecting people instead of destroying them. Which was exactly why the head of the Udai family was sending him to Tokyo to do just that.

Shouyou had met Udai Tenma fist-first.

It was his own damn fault; he’d been a pretty dumb thirteen-year-old. He’d known since he was little that there was something shady going on in that little electronics store; there had to be a reason his mother would always cross the street to avoid it, after all. It was a too-ordinary place on a too-ordinary road, whose interior was blocked by the assortment of TVs in the front window, all playing different sports, where plenty of men went in and out but never seemed to buy anything.

He’d been curious. He’d wanted in. And so he’d been skulking around the back, looking for a vent, a basement window, a glimpse of something that had not been his to see yet. Tenma moved on cat’s feet, but it was still amazing that Shouyou hadn’t realized he was there until he was being yanked bodily around by his unbuttoned uniform shirt and punched square in the jaw.

The blow rattled his skull and knocked him off his feet, straight into the trash cans against the back wall. Dazed, he’d looked up expecting to see a hulking beast of a gangster. Instead, he’d seen an older boy who looked a lot like him: only a couple inches taller, hair short and spiky over his round face. He certainly hadn’t been smiling, though.

“Who are you? What do you want with my father’s business?”

Tenma’s dark eyes had burned, and the growl of his voice had sent shivers down Shouyou’s spine. It had brought a grin to his face, despite the blood gushing from his smashed nose.

“To help out with it, actually.”

~0~

Shouyou wasn’t sure yet whether or not he liked Tokyo.

It could just be the weather. Winters in the city were decidedly unpleasant, cold and full of freezing rain. But he knew he was kidding himself if he thought it was really something that minor.

Being cut off from his brothers and boss was bad, no two ways about it. Nobody here knew who he was, though their eyes still flicked away if they chanced to meet his own: they knew they didn’t want to look any deeper or see any more of him. He would take his scraps of pride where he could get them, he supposed. And then there was the near-complete lack of things to do...

No. No, not quite. He had a job to do, like it or not.

Tenma was the worst part of Tokyo.

He followed in the footsteps of his favorite brother, just like always. But Tenma would never see him, never acknowledge him again, and that was the hardest pill he had ever had to swallow.

In the dusk, in the rain, Shouyou stalked down the sidewalk, black raincoat covering his suit. His hood did the job for now, but he was starting to amass quite the collection of hats to hide his telltale orange hair. If Tenma realized that he was here and what was really going on, Boss Udai would have his fingers.

The rain fell on Tenma’s thick mane of black hair. He never used to let his hair grow out. Shouyou almost hadn’t recognized him when he first tracked him down here. But he could never mistake his brother’s face. Just couldn’t understand it.

Why, after everything they’ve been through together, was he reduced to still chasing Tenma’s back? Never to meet him, let alone surpass him?

His beloved brother was becoming a different person; the long hair wasn’t the half of it. Instead of a box cutter or lead pipe in his hand, there was an increasingly well-worn leather portfolio. He spoke unfailingly politely to everyone, instead of simply demanding what his bloodline entitled him to. Whoever he was speaking to on his new cell phone, Shouyou didn’t know them; he had not only his father but every one of his old friends and younger brothers blocked.

Sometimes he wanted to run up behind Tenma, grab his shoulders and shake him, demanding to know, What did I do wrong? Why did you leave me behind?

As far as Shouyou was concerned, the organization and himself were interchangeable. Tenma might say differently, were Shouyou selfish enough to actually confront him, but Shouyou made no mistake: it was very personal.

~0~

Tenma had been impressed with him: not by his brazenness, but by the surprising maturity with which he carried out the sharing of sake, first with Tenma’s father and then with Tenma himself. The fact that he had worn his broken nose like a badge of honor, he tells Shouyou later, certainly helps. As does the fact that Shouyou will do anything to follow him.

Tenma directs him to collect protection money from bars and restaurants? He does it quickly and efficiently; despite his size, the weight of the Udai family behind him means everyone takes him seriously.

Teaches him through a school of hard knocks how to fight, with fists and blades? He’s a wildly eager learner.

Orders him to hunt down one stubborn shop owner who thinks he can refuse them their due, and remind him otherwise? However — and with whatever — he likes?

Oh, he’ll do it. Happily.

“Aniki,” Daichi remarks one night, “you should be proud of yourself.”

Five of them are gathered in Sugawara’s chilly but clean-smelling basement, watching Suga’s needle patiently poking the last sections of a samurai on Daichi’s back. Shouyou sits in the corner, playing Oicho-Kabu with Nishinoya and hoping that the lighter flipping around in their resident arsonist’s free hand won’t send their card game up in flames. Their jackets are off, and Shouyou’s bare skin itches for a needle in it too, to make him match his proudly decorated brothers.

Tenma sits cross-legged between each pair, his back straight and expression stoic, save for the single eyebrow raised at Daichi’s remark.

“Oh? What for?”

Daichi’s smile is tense (the traditional tattooing process is slow and painful) but genuine.

“The way you’ve trained Hinata. I overheard some of those street thugs complaining about him downtown. Apparently they’re the friends of that guy whose arms Hinata broke. They’d love to get revenge, but they’re too afraid of him to try on their own. And if they brought more of their friends in to overwhelm him, then you would be after them, and nobody wants that.”

Sugawara doesn’t take his eyes off his work, but gives a slow nod of approval. Nishinoya snickers, still flipping the lighter in his hand, the spinning circle of flame gleaming eerily off his grin.

“I’d like to see that little bastard try and pull a knife in one of our pachinko halls again!” he crows. “Must be hard, with your bones sticking out!”

Shouyou tries not to preen at that, but Daichi snorts anyway. “See what I mean, aniki?”

A smirk plays on Tenma’s lips as he looks over at his youngest brother, like a king regarding his heir.

“So I might’ve created a monster then, huh?”

Shouyou holds his head a little higher, and the glint of satisfaction in Tenma’s eyes feels like a lighter flicking on deep in his chest.

“I think I like that.”

~0~

He kept his head up high now. Ears pricked, like a dog on the watch for predators. Tenma was young, and he might be trying to go straight, but he’d been in the business long enough to build up a reputation to beat, and to make plenty of enemies.

It didn’t take him long to catch sight of some. They wore matching suits — sharp, but ill-fitting on their brawny frames — and dark sunglasses, and their hair was slicked heavily back. They strode down the street like they owned it, and maybe around here, they did. But Shouyou was here now, and the usual rules didn’t apply to him. No matter what opposing group they belonged to, he wouldn’t let them do as they pleased.

Shouyou watched the men’s hands more than any other part of them: the way they drifted towards pockets and waistbands as they followed Tenma, too. Clearly the threat of Boss Udai’s retaliation if his son was harmed mattered less to them than paying Tenma back for however he’d offended them. And they certainly didn’t give a damn who was on the other end of his phone call to hear them, when they finally reached him.

If they reached him.

With the rain still falling and night slowly coming on, none of them noticed the others as they made their way off the streets proper down to the path by the river. It was quiet; their footsteps made no sound. The streetlights were few and far between. And they were alone there, entirely alone.

Shouyou had already been tensed to strike, an arrow in a bow pulled back as far as it would go. He watched, unblinking, letting the fire inside him build and build until it suffused his whole body. Maybe he was angry and resentful. Maybe he had a right to be, maybe he didn’t. But he was going to put it to good use now.

The instant he saw a flash of metal emerging from one of those pockets, Shouyou was running, his sneakers soundless on the wet pavement. They were fifteen meters away from Tenma, but he had no doubt that with their bulk, they were one hundred percent capable of making that sprint. Though Tenma could react in time to counter them, probably even fight them off himself, that wasn’t the point. It was Shouyou’s responsibility to protect him.

Most of his brothers didn’t carry knives, viewing them as too big a liability in case the police caught them with it. (They were all willing to go to prison, but in service of their group, not out of their own carelessness.) Shouyou was just a little bit more reckless and he was glad of it now.

Five inches of stainless steel slid through the back of the bigger man’s neck, with the soft, quick sounds of tearing tissue and clicking vertebrae that Shouyou only heard because he’d been listening for them. Directly through the cervical section of the spine, enough to paralyze him from the neck down with one quick and clean stab. It was a high part of the body to reach, but Shouyou sure could jump when he put his mind to it.

The man dropped to the pavement like a wet sack of skin, and his buddy, to his credit, reacted well. He pulled his weapon so quickly it seemed to just materialize in his hand, and if his nerve were just a bit steelier, he might have actually landed a blow on his attacker. He might have, if he hadn’t had the bad luck to look straight into Shouyou’s eyes.

He was never sure, exactly, what everybody seemed to see there. But whatever it was, it was an icy part of him, a part not quite human, and it froze anyone in his gaze to the bone. Like realizing the moment of your own death. For once, he wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t know whether that enhanced or lessened the effect. Then again, he didn’t exactly care.

The man only froze for a second, maybe less. It was more than enough. Shouyou wasn’t afraid of the claw hammer in his meaty hand, not one bit. The sight of it, and the thought of what it was meant to do to Tenma, were like alcohol thrown on a fire. His fury renewed, Shouyou lunged, underneath the faltering swing of the hammer at his temple.

He had never felt his hand move so fast before in his life. Splashes of red seemed to appear on their own, all over the front of the man’s white dress shirt, in a matter of moments. To finish up, Shouyou put all the strength in his small, slight body behind burying the knife up to the hilt in his sternum and twisting it hard.

The man’s eyes bulged behind his sunglasses, and dark blood dripped over his lip. He might have made a choked gurgling sound, but the blade Shouyou left stuck there made that impossible. He lunged like a wounded animal, frightened and wild, and Shouyou crouched down, lifting his hands. It was one of the first things Tenma had taught him about hand-to-hand combat: no matter how big his opponent was, he could always win if he used their weight against them, in exactly the right way.

So with a twist of the arm and a mighty push upward between the hips, Shouyou hurled the man over his own head and into the water. His death throes propelled him for a few seconds, his hands flailing for the edge and his chin jerking breathlessly up above the surface.

Shouyou looked down on him with an expression of flat disgust. With one decisive kick in the face, he sent him under the water for good. He turned to the first man — still immobile on the ground, face bone-white and tongue twitching, unable to make a sound from shock — and with his other foot pushed him into the river, too. He, at least, wouldn’t be trying to swim.

He was incredibly thankful for the rain, so torrential it drowned out all the sounds and washed away all the blood, both on the path and on Shouyou’s hands. He started up a nearby stone staircase back up to the street, where he could watch Tenma from a less conspicuous vantage point, pulling his hood back up over his head.

Tenma seemed to be done with his call, and if he had noticed anything amiss, he hadn’t let on, his attention devoted instead to shielding his phone and portfolio inside his jacket. The water plastered his hair down and ran in rivulets down his face and the side of his neck, making the large bandage stuck on the latter peel at the corners. Shouyou knew that it hid not a wound, but the tail of the great black dragon tattoo that dominated Tenma’s chest.

It still stung to see such a beautiful thing covered up in such a way, as if it was shameful. As if the men he had once called brothers were shameful things as well. Shouyou hadn’t cried since he was a small child, but...it had made his chest seize up something awful the first time he’d realized it.

Aniki...do you really understand what you’ve done? How you’ve hurt us?

Tenma was in his own world now. A world that not just didn’t include Shouyou, but that actively shut him out. He wanted to surpass his brother one day, to be acknowledged by him; he had never been satisfied with simply chasing Tenma’s back. But now it seemed that that would be the rest of his life.

Aniki...

He could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He could feel the resentment and hurt like red-hot needles, along every line of the dark tattoos he now boasted on his torso. He could give in to the urge: run back down there himself, take his brother down now that his skills were rusty, with nothing but his fists, force him to come back and — and —

Aniki!

Just before passing under the bridge, Tenma stopped, as if hearing his thoughts, or just finally sensing the eyes on him. He looked around: suspicious at first, then puzzled when his gaze landed on Shouyou. They were too far away for Tenma to recognize him, especially with the hood obscuring his face, but Shouyou could see Tenma’s face clearly. He hadn’t looked directly into his eyes since before he had left for the city.

What he saw in them drained him dry of his fury. They still burned, but with passion instead of ferocity. They were brighter, stronger...full of life and pride.

(His opposite. Naturally.)

Shouyou realized with a jolt that he had never seen his brother like this before. Maybe...he had never really seen him at all.

...Well. There was no point in standing around and staring until his cover was blown; Tenma wasn’t stupid, after all. Shouyou turned and hurried the rest of the way up the stairs, and watched Tenma shrug and move on from a better hidden vantage point on the street. At that moment, his phone buzzed in his coat pocket, and he was surprised to find his hands trembling as he pulled it out.

A text from Boss Udai: Hinata. How is he doing?

Shouyou’s thumb hovered over the phone for a moment, before typing a simple reply.

He’s happy.

#haikyuu #hinata shouyou #udai tenma #kaen's fics

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hqcrimezine · 3 years ago

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hqmmzine · 3 years ago

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🔎 Set The Stage Lineup 🔍

Meet our prime suspects, accused of creating amazing murder and crime mystery content for our project ✨ Here are our contributors:

🗄 𝗖𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝟏: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁 👻 Follow the Karasuno 3rd years on their dangerous noir adventure with our Guest Contributors: 🧷 Lark — @kirioxel 🕵🏽 Skitty — @skittidyne 🕵🏽 Mye — Twitter / Ao3 📏 Nova — LinkTree 📎 Jana — Twitter / Instagram and 📎 Tiv — Twitter / Instagram

🗂 𝗖𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝟐: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 💎 Put a bunch of pretty setters and a priceless object into one room and watch things unfold with: 🧷 Sarrr — @sarrrdoodles 🕵🏽 Chili — Twitter / Ao3 🕵🏽 Nym — Twitter / Ao3 📎 Xen — Instagram 📏 Alice — Twitter / Instagram / TikTok and 📏 Ainsley — @aivicart

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🎛 𝗖𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝟓: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 🎏 There's no party like an MSBY4 party! Prepare for drama, action and supernatural adventure with: 🧷 Luna — Twitter / Instagram 🕵🏽 Rook — Carrd 🕵🏽 Binu — @itsbinuu 📎 Lance — Carrd 📏 Ivy — Carrd and 📐 LadySaladPuddin — Twitter

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musicprincess655 · 8 years ago

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Gradients

Pairing: Semishira

Rating: Gen

Tags: princess mononoke au, getting together

read on ao3

This was my piece for the HQ Ghibli zine. While the zine is no longer happening, I still want to share this with you, because I worked really hard on it and I’m really proud of it. I was paired with @ivytea as an artist, and you should definitely check them out as well.

The forest was still around Eita, though he could hear the sounds of life echoing all the same. No creatures were visible, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

He felt eyes on him, and smirked.

“I know you’re there,” he called. He didn’t have to wait long before a boy and two wolves came into sight.

“Why are you here again?” Shirabu asked. He looked annoyed.

“You’d get lonely if I never visited you,” Eita teased.

“No I wouldn’t,” Shirabu argued. “I have Kawanishi and Goshiki.”

He gestured to the wolf pups beside him. Kawanishi didn’t so much as acknowledge being called out, but Goshiki gave a friendly yip. Eita smiled. He could always count on Goshiki to be welcoming.

“You’re not going to leave any time soon, are you?” Shirabu asked, sounding resigned.

“I already walked all this way,” Eita agreed. “It would be a waste to just go back now.”

“Fine.” Shirabu tossed his head. “Come on then. We might as well sit.”

It was more than Eita would have gotten when he first started visiting Shirabu, but then again, they were kind of friends now. Shirabu certainly tolerated his presence a lot more than he had in the beginning, and that was probably the closest to friendship the other boy had ever come. He sat in the springy moss around the water, smelling the crisp green scent as some of it crushed under him. Shirabu sat next to him.

“Did you bring me anything?” Shirabu asked.

“I thought you hated humans,” Eita replied, because he still felt like teasing him. “Why would you want anything from that village?”

Shirabu didn’t look impressed.

“Fine, here,” Eita sighed, throwing a package to him. “I made you cookies.”

Shirabu tore into the package. He had a weakness for sweets that he couldn’t satisfy in the forest, no matter how well it could meet all of his other needs.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to at least go to the village,” Eita said. “The people there won’t try to hurt you, and it might be good for you. You might make a friend. You might even get a girlfriend.”

“Go die.”

“Who would bring you cookies if I did that?”

Shirabu fell silent, but Eita could tell he wasn’t actually upset. If anything, he was trying to control his mouth to keep it from turning up at the corners. If he was actually mad, Kawanishi and Goshiki would have growled in warning long ago.

No matter how much Shirabu insisted that he hated humans and was happier out here alone with the wolves, Eita knew better. If Shirabu really hated humans or didn’t want him around, Eita was all too easy to avoid. He always found Shirabu quickly, though, as if the other boy was waiting for him without trying to seem like he was waiting for him.

Eita tilted his head back, letting the patch of sunlight that filtered through the leaves fall onto his face. He was coming to love the forest almost as much as he loved his new home at the ironworks.

***

“Just let me meet him,” Tendou insisted. Eita sighed, rolling his eyes. Tendou was his best friend, and Eita was always up for getting into trouble with him, but he would definitely scare Shirabu off. They’d had this argument before, with the same results.

“He barely lets me near him, and you want me to introduce him to a stranger?” Eita asked. Tendou shrugged.

“You’re trying to get him comfortable with the idea of humans, aren’t you?” Tendou reasoned. “He has to meet someone other than you sometime.”

“I know, but…” Eita trailed off. “I understand why he’s so stubborn. His family abandoned him, and then he had to watch humans kill his friends. He has every right to be angry.”

“But you shouldn’t let him stay angry forever,” Tendou argued. “The lady is trying really hard to make things right. She can’t fix things if he won’t even talk to her.”

“Semi-san?” a quiet female voice interrupted. Tendou and Eita turned to see Lady Kiyoko standing hesitantly behind them. “Can I ask you a question about the wolf prince?”

“What about him?” Eita asked warily. He’d seen the good Lady Kiyoko was trying to do in this town, but he couldn’t forget watching her harm Shirabu or kill the deer god. She was trying, but she hadn’t earned his forgiveness yet.

“You visit him, don’t you?” She was much more hesitant than she’d been when he’d first arrived.

“I do.”

“Will you tell him I’m sorry?” she asked. “For everything? And that he’s always welcome here, whenever he wants?”

Eita considered her. She’d been putting in a lot of effort to fix the problems with the original ironworks, starting with fixing the relationships between humans and gods. She really was trying to make it a partnership rather than having humans take everything for themselves. It hadn’t gone perfectly, but they were getting better.

“I’ll tell him,” he promised. “I can’t promise he’ll accept, or that he’ll come here, but I’ll tell him.”

She nodded, grateful.

“You should still let me meet him,” Tendou cut in. “At least bring up the idea and let him decide. I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

“Because I definitely think your best behavior is going to make a difference,” Eita muttered. “I’ll ask him. It’s his choice, though.”

***

“No.”

“That’s it? Just ‘no’? You’re not even going to consider it?”

“I already told you I hate humans,” Shirabu snapped. “I don’t want to go to the village, and I don’t want to meet your friend. They’re all humans.”

“And so am I!” Eita’s voice grew louder in frustration. Shirabu had every right to be angry, but it was unfair that he wouldn’t even think about it.

Shirabu’s face softened.

“You’re special,” he said. “You’re not like the rest of them.”

“Of course I’m like the rest of them,” Eita argued. “Humans aren’t all the same. Lady Kiyoko is really trying to make everything better, and Tendou is really nice, even if he looks a little scary. They’re not going to hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. At least talk to them once.”

Shirabu stared into the water, considering. He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he sighed.

“Will you be there the whole time?” he asked. Eita nodded. “I’ll meet them. Just once. And I’m not going into the ironworks. They can come outside to talk to me.”

“That can be arranged,” Eita promised.

Lady Kiyoko was easy enough to persuade to meet Shirabu outside the walls, and Tendou was chomping at the bit to meet the wolf prince in person.

Eita led Shirabu there, even though he knew Shirabu knew the way. He stayed close to the other boy as they walked out of the forest, Shirabu’s head held high.

Shirabu grabbed for his hand as they approached Lady Kiyoko and Tendou, and Eita let him, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Shirabu took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Wolf prince,” Lady Kiyoko said, one good arm held out and open to show she held no weapon. “I want to offer my apologies for the pain I’ve caused you. You are always welcome here in our village, and I hope to earn your forgiveness someday.”

Eita nudged Shirabu to prompt him to respond.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly. “I’ll remember that I’m welcome here.”

Tendou stepped forward, and Eita tensed. Tendou was his best friend, and Eita loved him, but he could be a little overwhelming, and Shirabu already looked like he wanted to bolt. He looked over Shirabu carefully, mouth turned up in its perpetual grin.

“You really run with the wolves, don’t you,” he said, more statement than question. Shirabu nodded. “Nobody here will give you any trouble anymore. You could outrun them all even if they tried.”

Shirabu looked surprised, but pleased. Eita sighed in relief. Not only had Tendou not made it worse, he’d actually made it better.

“Will you visit again?” Tendou asked. “Eita makes chocolate chip cookies like you wouldn’t believe, and they’re better straight out of the oven.”

Shirabu considered carefully.

“I’ll come back,” he said slowly. Tendou nodded, and they all considered the meeting over. Eita walked Shirabu back to the forest.

“I’m proud of you,” Eita told him. “You handled that well.”

“You were right.”

“About what?”

“Humans aren’t all the same,” Shirabu admitted. “They weren’t what I expected.”

“So you think you’ll come back?”

“Apparently you make cookies to die for, and they’re better straight out of the oven.”

Eita smirked, and he could see the smile Shirabu was trying to hide. The light was fading, and he should go back before it got too dark, but he didn’t want to let go of Shirabu’s hand.

“Kenjirou,” Shirabu said quietly.

“What?”

“That’s my name. Kenjirou,” he said. “Shirabu is what the wolves called me, but Kenjirou was the name I was born with.”

“You never mentioned that before.”

“I didn’t trust you enough before.”

“You mean you hadn’t forgiven me for being human yet.”

Shirabu - Kenjirou - shrugged.

“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me now?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Kenjirou admitted. “You never did anything to hurt me, and...being human isn’t a crime. I...I’m sorry for...everything, I guess.”

“I understand why you were so angry,” Eita said. “There’s nothing for me to forgive, either.”

“Will you keep visiting me?” Kenjirou asked. “Even if I can’t come to the village yet?”

Eita considered for a moment, then leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. Kenjirou squeaked in surprise, glaring at him out of habit.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me,” Eita said. “Besides, I like it out here. It’s peaceful. Animals don’t rush around all day like humans do.”

Kenjirou looked away, but he still held on to Eita’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Eita teased him.

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Go die.”

“But then who would bake you cookies?” Eita sing songed. It was already becoming an old argument, one he’d be happy to continue having. “You’d get lonely if I stopped visiting you.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Kenjirou insisted, mouth quirking up as he spoke his part. “I have Kawanishi and Goshiki.”

“Yeah, but you’d miss me anyway,” Eita said, leaning in close. Kenjirou had plenty of time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t, so Eita kept leaning in until he could press their lips together. Kenjirou still didn’t pull away, not until Eita did.

Kenjirou would never live in the village, but that was okay. Eita would keep visiting him, and keep showing him that humans weren’t his enemies. He would continue helping Kenjirou and the people of the village learn to forgive each other and heal, and it was something he would be glad to do.

He leaned in once again to kiss his wolf prince.

#my writing #haikyuuwriters #hq ghibli zine #semishira #hq fanfic #hqoneshot

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