#i think i am able to reflect on how living in japan for four months REALLY changed me for the better

[fairyzar]

today i was able to help build a yurt for unhoused folks in my community and it was really nice :)

[lumelii]

BREAKING IN ~|~ FUSHIGURO TOJI X FEM!READER

Summary: Your business partner and you are celebrating the end of a difficult project. Lucky you. 

Content Warning: nsfw, smut, fwb situation, FEM!READER established "relationship", dilf!Toji, face fucking, slight degradation, face slapping (just once) (if I forgot any let me know)

Note: Big thank you to Moni and @shokami for being my guinea pigs on this one. 

Word Count: 5.1k

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There were few things Toji liked about traveling for work. He liked seeing new places. He hated long plane rides. Hotels were nice, but sleeping on the mattresses for too long wreaked havoc on his back. He enjoyed making new business connections. Most importantly, however, he hated leaving his kids for long periods.

They were on his mind now, as he checked his phone periodically through the business party he was attending, celebrating the completion of another building Fushiguro Design Group had planned and engineered, this time in New York City. It was almost time for them to go to school in Tokyo, usually one of them called before they left so he knew they were up. His finger paused over the home phone contact for a moment before he put it away with a sigh. Megumi and Tsumiki were both teenagers now, almost in high school. They didn’t need him hovering all the time.

“Congratulations on another success, Mr. Fushiguro.” One of the executives of the company who contracted the firm came up to shake his hand. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“It was a group effort.” His eyes searched the room, hoping to find a distraction to get him out of this conversation before he put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t deal with clients, he had employees who did that. He wasn’t great at curtailing his frustrations when in conversation. Especially with this client, who changed their design at least four times, which meant he had to redo all the math. Four times.

Luckily, his distraction came just a few seconds later as his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he felt a wave of relief seeing his home phone number. At least that meant one of the kids was up. He wasn’t counting on Gojou.

“Please excuse me.” Toji stepped away and walked out onto the balcony just off the ballroom, closing the door securely behind him before answering.

“DAD!” He held the phone away from his ear just slightly when Tsumiki yelled even before he said hello. He brought it back to his ear once he was sure his eardrum wouldn’t be ruptured.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” He answered sarcastically. “How are you? Getting ready for school?”

“Megumi stole my notebook again!”

“I did NOT!” Toji heard Megumi yell in the background.

“It had my homework in it! If I don’t get it back, the teacher is going to dock points!”

“Did you already look in your backpack? Everywhere in your room?”

“No, because Megumi took it!”

“Princess, look in your backpack and your room first. If you can’t find it, have Gojou help you. Now give the phone to Megumi.”

He heard her huff and set the receiver down, yelling for Megumi to get on the phone. A few moments later, the receiver was picked up again. This time, Megumi’s voice. “Hi Dad.”

“I swear to god, Megumi, if you have her notebook and you’re lying about it just to bother her—” Toji warned.

“I’m NOT!” He yelled again. “I was over at Yuuji’s house last night anyway, why would I need her homework when we did ours together?”

“Why weren’t you home last night?” Toji’s eyes narrowed even though his son couldn’t see him. “It’s a school night.”

“Yuuji and I were working on homework. Plus his neighbor made sweets. She sent some home with me. I’ll save you some. Are you coming home soon?” His tone was hopeful. It made Toji’s chest hurt. He missed his family.

“I’m going to be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, I promise.” Toji told him. “Are you ready for school?”

“Not yet. I can’t find my slacks.”

“Look on the right side of your closet, they’re probably in there. Where’s Gojou? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I think he’s still sleeping.” The phone was set down again, and Toji had to wait what felt like forever until he finally heard Gojou grumbling on the other end of the line.

“G’morning sunshine.” He yawned. “What’s up?”

“Are you aware the kids are ready to tear each other’s throats out?” Toji frowned. “And why are you still sleeping? They’re almost ready to leave for school.”

“Kento was on the phone late last night freaking out, I had to calm him down.” Gojou stifled a yawn again. “I made sure they have their breakfast and their school stuff is ready.”

“Tsumiki’s missing her notebook.”

“It was in the living room last I saw, I’ll make sure one of the dogs didn’t take it.”

“I KNEW IT!” Tsumiki screeched in the background.

“Shit, I have to go, Toji. Call later.”

The line went dead before Toji could ask any questions. He looked down at his lock screen with a frown, debating on calling back but ultimately deciding against it while he put his phone away. He would call later once both kids were at school, and keep an eye out for breaking news of fratricide in Tokyo.

He looked to the balcony doors when they opened, relaxing slightly when he saw his preferred distraction walking out with two drinks in hand. 

You closed the door behind you before walking up to him, holding out his favorite, an Old Fashioned. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

He took the proffered drink and downed it in one gulp while you sipped your Gibson carefully. “Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to these kinds of parties, yes. Either you were about to lose your temper and needed a breather, or you had to take a call.” You answered. “Problems at home?”

Toji shook his head. “Just wish we were back.”

“It’s been a month. I can’t wait to get back to Tokyo. No matter what anyone says, no one can beat Tokyo ramen.” You leaned your elbows on the balcony railing. He leaned next to you, copying your pose while you both looked over the glittering New York skyline in silence.

“Why don’t we focus on projects at home for a while?” You offered. “Or in Japan, at least. That way we wouldn’t have to be gone for too long, you’d still be able to go home at night.”

“We have some pretty big clients lined up in Dubai and Europe. I don’t think they’d want to wait until we felt like traveling again.”

“You’re the boss. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” You reminded him with a smile. “I can take someone else with me, then send the specs once we’re done. I’ll even let you pick your stand-in.”

“I’ll pick my stand-in whether you like them or not.” He smirked before continuing. “I’m the boss.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. “Just don’t make it fucking Ren. I can’t stand that asswipe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He promised.

The conversation wasn’t typical between a boss and employee, but you were more than that. You were partners at the firm, Toji was just the one in charge. You’d built the firm together from the ground up, making it the success it was today.

He had come to you, needing an architect for his own firm back when it was only an idea, offering two-hundred million yen out of his personal coffers as an incentive. But it wasn’t the money that had made you say yes. It was the almost maniacal determination in his eyes. He had something to prove, and he would burn the world to the ground to do it.

You learned later his wife had just died a few weeks prior, and it was part of his promise to her on her deathbed that he follow through with his plan of opening his firm. You’d been with him since the beginning, in the early days where you both spent countless sleepless nights completing projects other firms only dared to take on, through the intervention staged by his two closest friends Nanami Kento and Gojou Satoru, as Toji became consumed by his work as a way to suppress his grief, to the point where his son almost didn’t recognize him when he came home. You’d been by his side through the boom of success that befell the firm just a few short years after its founding, along with the money that soon flooded both your pockets, and his second “marriage” to a model he met at a film festival, who promptly disappeared after moving her daughter into his home. He had been surprisingly calm through the whole ordeal, submitting the paperwork to make Tsumiki his own once they were completely certain her mother was never coming back, with a hefty cash incentive and NDA to tie it with a nice bow.

He’d been through a fair amount with you as well, dealing with toxic family that had come out of the woodwork as the company started to increase your wealth, demanding money for so-called “investments” they had made into you by providing basic care until you finally left at fifteen. Through the sudden death of your fiancé, where Toji was the only one who could understand and help you navigate through the unending darkness that consumed your life for almost a year afterwards. He’d ignored some of your questionable choices as you tried to adjust to your new normal, but also was not afraid to step in when necessary if the choices turned destructive. You had thought it was just to protect the interest of the firm, but when he had come to your apartment after a sobbing phone call on the anniversary of your fiancé’s death and held you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, you knew it was because he cared about you.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked after watching the sunset sink below the horizon, breaking you both out of your reflection.

“I’d rather drive an ice pick through my skull.” He admitted. 

You laughed, the sound echoing off the glass windows and empty air around you. “We could always dip.”

“Wouldn’t they be offended, us leaving early?” He turned to face you with one hand on the railing. You ignored the way his suit jacket strained against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mari’s in there, it’ll be fine.” You said, referring to your project manager. “She loves people. She’ll have them eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“If you say so.” He took the empty glass from you, setting it on the railing before taking your hand to thread it through his arm. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

You made a hasty exit from the party, repeating your excuse of an early flight at least a dozen times so no one would hinder your escape. No one bothered to ask follow-up questions. If they had, they might have found out you were flying private back to Tokyo, and the plane could leave whenever you goddamn pleased, obliterating your excuse.

Luckily, the lie held until you were safely in the cab of an elevator, heading up to the floor that held your two hotel rooms. The company had offered the two massive adjacent suites to you both, taking up an entire floor of the newly constructed hotel. Toji probably could have brought his kids if he had wanted, but he didn’t want to pull them out of school for that long. You were happy to have the entire suite to yourself. It meant you didn’t have to listen to neighbors through all hours of the night, and you didn’t have to worry about keeping anyone up when working late at night. 

“The flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” Toji told you as you stepped off onto your floor. “There’s going to be a car to pick us up an hour before.”

“Did you already send your bags with the service?” You stopped just outside your door, directly across the hall from Toji’s. 

He nodded. “I saw yours were ready, I had them sent as well.”

“Thank you.” You looked behind your shoulder to your door then back at him, his hands in his pockets, watching you like he was expecting you to say something else. He looked downright sinful in his all-black designer suit, his normally straight hair styled back with hair gel but still looking soft to the touch. The watch that cost more than most people’s houses glinted in the warm light of the hallway as he played with his cufflinks, also worth a small fortune. You would know. You bought them. 

He quirked his eyebrow at your examination, almost like a challenge. Damn him. 

“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I thought you would never ask.” 

You smiled back and turned to the door, inserting your keycard to hear the small click of the lock disengaging, slipping inside with him closely following. “We haven’t broken in this one, yet.”

He was on you before you had the chance to slip out of your shoes. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him a sense of urgency, the sweet bourbon still on his lips as they slid over yours with a practiced ease, or that you had an early flight in the morning and needed as much sleep as possible to prevent jet lag. If it were the latter, this was definitely not the activity to be participating in.

These liaisons only happened on trips, or late nights at the office or your apartment, where there would be no prying eyes. You both didn’t need questions. It was fulfilling a primal desire, one that burned within you even as both your hearts were locked by grief. There was an understanding. You cared for him, and he for you, but not in a romantic way. You were making sure the needs of a friend were met.

The “breaking in” was also a tradition as well, ever since your first major deal had been completed. When the building was finally complete for a major project, you and Toji would sneak off somewhere to do the deed, christening the building like a bottle of champagne before a ship’s maiden voyage. It had started as a joke, a way to release the pent-up stress that resulted from design and construction but eventually became a tradition. As the business grew over the years, you and Toji had christened well over a hundred completed projects with none the wiser. 

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before moving your hands between your fused bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, working quickly in the tight space as Toji didn’t allow you any room to pull away. You struggled to focus while his kisses moved down to your chin and then your neck, licking and sucking the skin with reckless abandon. You let out a breathy moan as he bit your pulse point with a low growl feeling your heartbeat thrum beneath his teeth. Toji pushed your hands away when his shirt was finally on the floor behind him. He grabbed your face between his hands bringing your attention back to him to kiss you. Ever the multitasker, his tongue explored your mouth while he began his task of getting you naked. 

“Don’t rip the dress.” You warned under his kiss while his large hands grappled for the zipper. “I borrowed it, it has to be in perfect condition.”

“I’ll buy Mei Mei a new one.” Gripping the top of the dress with a hand on each size of the zipper, he yanked hard, the fabric splitting like he had just ripped a sheet of paper as it fell off your body. His eyes went wide as the dress pooled at your feet, revealing the matching black lace set you had underneath. The cups barely contained your breasts and did little to cover your most delicate areas, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed.

You grinned and kneeled in front of him, starting to undo the buckle of his pants. “Paris paid off, then?” 

A sigh fell past his lips as you finally pulled his pants and boxers down, wasting no time to wrap your hand around his thick cock, pumping languidly. His breath hitched as you licked his angry red tip slowly, pulling back to prevent him from pushing past your lips when his hips moved forward. His hand went to the crown of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Shit. You’ve been saving that since Paris?”

“I’ve worn this plenty before. You’ve just never seen it.” Your smirk was devilish. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him to the base, neatly trimmed hair tickling your nose while you forced your throat to relax. You tried to gather as much spit as you could to make the glide easier as you bobbed your head. Toji was a large man with an equally large and impressive dick, almost too much for you to take in. Through years of practice, both on him and several inferior specimens, you had learned just how to hollow your cheeks, how to move, and how to swallow to have a man cumming in minutes flat. 

“Fuck, you okay?” He panted when he thrust involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly. Once you composed yourself, you hummed around his cock and nodded. Grabbing his other free hand, you placed it on the back of your head with his other one before taking him back down your throat. A silent invitation. 

He wasted no time responding, beginning to thrust into your mouth with no reserve. You grabbed his hips to steady yourself as you relaxed and remembered to breathe through your nose. Tears ran down your cheeks while he choked you with his massive cock, mixing with your mascara and staining your skin black. The salty tang of precum hit your tongue, mixing with the saliva that fell from your lips the faster he moved. You smiled around his cock when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough for him to let out a loud groan. 

“Stop.” He growled, pulling you off him and tilting your chin up. He took in your tear-streaked face, your chin and neck covered with a mix of saliva and pre-cum. When he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, you caught it between your teeth, sucking him in and lavving the digit with your tongue. He chuckled darkly, hooking his thumb in your mouth and using it as a guide for you to stand up in front of him. 

“Messy doll.” He crooned. You had to admit, you were shocked as he leaned forward and licked up your neck, tasting both of you on your skin. While you were distracted with his sinful lips, you heard another distinct ripping sound before you felt the cool air of the room against your bare ass. You broke away and looked down to see your panties in tatters on the ground. 

“Can you at least leave one piece of my clothing intact tonight?” You frowned at him, your voice slightly hoarse from his antics. “Those were expensive. I know we’re made of money now, but I’d prefer not to spend it all.”

He ignored you and reached around to plant a firm smack on your cheeks. “In the bedroom. On the bed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but you decided to have a bit of fun as you walked through the massive suite. You could feel his eyes on you, almost predatory when you entered the bedroom and caught sight of the king-sized bed, made with fresh linens and piled high with pillows, accented in the light greys and blacks that matched the rest of the suite. You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, back down, and propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. 

He frowned at your position as he walked forward. “I said on the bed.” He rumbled. 

“I am on the bed.” You played dumb and cocked your head to the side. “What did you mean?”

He shook his head and stopped at the edge, towering over you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” 

“It’s a nice break from those girls that call you daddy, isn’t it?” You purred. 

The growl that ripped through his chest made your heart jump and another wave of arousal coat your lips as he surged forward, gripping your hips to flip you onto your stomach and pull them up so you were on your knees, your throbbing center level with his cock. He ground against you, slipping his length along your drenched labia to coat it, the glide easy as your spit mixed with your slick. He was more than ready to pound into you. 

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he put a hand on your neck and pushed you down so your face was pressed into the mattress. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath on your back and trailing up as he bent over you to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, I was going to be nice, maybe take it slow at first so you wouldn’t be absolutely wrecked sitting for fourteen hours on our flight tomorrow.” He hummed. “But now, I think I’m going to like seeing you squirm.”

It wasn’t even a second later before he slammed into your pussy, the stretch almost painful as you wailed at the intrusion and he began a brutal pace that rivaled his speed while he was fucking your face just moments before. You were already sopping wet from sucking his dick earlier, turned on beyond belief as you thought about what lay in store for you after he was done with your mouth being his personal fleshlight. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He hissed, spanking your ass to feel you clench around his dick. “No one can stretch this cunt as good as I can, can they? You need a fat cock to satisfy you, those skinny dicks can’t even get you wet.” 

You moaned an affirmative, playing along with his narrative as he pistoned his hips into you. You could feel every vein on him as they dragged along your walls, his tip hitting that soft spot inside you with every thrust. There were plenty of other dicks that had gotten you wet, but it was true his was the most impressive, and the one that had more knowledge of just how to make you scream, monster dick or not. He had that advantage over every other man you slept with. 

The slap of his hips against yours echoed through the cavernous room as Toji grabbed your upper arms, pulling them behind your back and forcing your back in arch, his thrust becoming more shallow but no less punishing. You bit your lip to control the noises you were making, but whines still escaped. 

When the new position didn’t produce his desired response from you, he released your arms without any ceremony causing your upper body to fall limp back to the bed. You gasped as Toji pressed his hips flush to yours, curling his body on top of yours with one powerful arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from pulling away while his tip continually massaged your g-spot with every roll of his hips into you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He murmured in your ear, his voice steady without any sign of effort. His stamina was something to marvel. 

“You know how it feels.” You moaned back, unable to control yourself. You were so close, just ready to reach that peak if he would only speed up. You reached back with one hand and gripped his hip hoping that would encourage him to resume his previous pace. 

He took your hand from his hip and put it back near your head, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. The sharp sting of pleasure was what you needed for your back to arch, squeezing around him while you fucked yourself back onto his cock to prolong your climax as much as you could. 

Toji pulled out as you finally slowed down, his heavy cock bouncing against his leg as he sat up against the headboard and patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on. You wasted no time in doing so, raising yourself on shaky legs to straddle his lap. His hands moved to cup your ass as you settled over him, taking his length in hand and sinking down onto it with a sharp exhale through your nose. You could almost feel him in your throat in this position, the stretch still borderline uncomfortable even after he had already stretched you out, coupled with the sensitivity of just having orgasmed. 

His gentle grip turned hard just as you were about to start bouncing to stop your movements. You gave him a confused look but understood when his hands started to guide you in grinding on his lap. The added friction on your clit against his pelvis made you sigh in pleasure, just a tinge of overstimulation creeping through the tightness already building in your stomach again. In this position with the lack of harsh movements he was able to play with your breasts, which he always gave proper worship. 

His large hands made your breasts look small as he covered the left, slipping your nipple between his fingers and rolling it while he cupped the other, pushing it up and licking at the flesh. You sighed at the rough texture of the scar marring his lips against your sensitive skin and wrapped your arms around his head, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. He loved to tease, licking and sucking all around your breasts until you were about to beg, arching your back further into his touch. You hated begging him, hated admitting how well he could affect you. But you had known each other for so long, you knew each other better than anyone else. 

You whined as his lips finally closed around the pert bud, laying the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin. You felt his lips stretch into a smile against your skin at your vocalizations before he moved to your other breast, immediately latching onto the nipple to produce a breathy moan. You knew he was enjoying himself from the way his hips matched each roll of your own, driving deeper as he got lost in the feeling. 

“I got your milkies.” You whispered, part of your sinister trick to bring him back to earth. You were starved for actual friction, grinding not providing the drag on your insides you craved. 

He pulled back with a soft pop and frowned, though his pupils were still blown out. “You did not just say that.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He mumbled, pushing your breasts together to bury his face between them, licking through your cleavage and up your chest.

“Then why are you still hard?” You squeezed down on him deliberately. His eyes grew dark as he looked up at you through thick lashes and you knew you were in for it. 

With one quick movement you were under him, back pressed into the pillows while he kneeled between your legs still holding your waist so he could stay buried inside you, your hips tilted so you were at an angle. You struggled to sit up trying to resume your previous position, but his strong hold on you didn’t allow you any room before he continued burying himself in your velvet walls. You could barely breathe from the force of his thrusts, twice as hard as before but just as fast. 

You could have killed him from how composed he looked as he watched you slowly lose control. He watched you with an almost curious expression, studying how your brow drew together and short gasps fell past your lips while he was barely breaking a sweat. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans. If he wanted them, he’d have to earn them. 

“I know you like taking it from the back, but I think I like this better.” He mused, voice even like he wasn’t balls deep in your cunt. “I can see the look on your face when you lose control.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You gasped, your words stuttering with each of his thrusts. 

“No, that’s your job.” He grinned devilishly and bent down over you, resting on his elbows. “Scream for me, little slut. Let the floors around us know how good I fuck.” 

You opened your mouth to retort but a loud scream came out instead as Toji sneaked his hand between you to roll your clit between two fingers. You barely felt his breath on your skin as you shattered beneath him, screaming just like he wanted as your orgasm crashed over you, ten times as intense as the one he had just given you. You gripped the pillow under your head and turned your face into it so he couldn’t see just how much you were enjoying this. 

In an instant, you felt the pillow ripped from beneath your head and his hand come into contact with your cheek. The sting of his slap was dulled by the pleasure still running over your body as he gripped your chin tightly in one of his large hands, forcing you to look in his eyes, your noses almost touching. Your eyebrows knit together and mouth open on a silent moan made him finally push as far in as he could on a final thrust, painting your inner walls white with his cum as he groaned loudly. The roll of his hips didn’t stop until he deposited every last drop within you, until you could feel his cum leaking out the sides of his dick. How could he cum so fucking much?

His hands turned gentle as he pulled out, smoothing your hair off your sweaty forehead and tracing his fingers over the hickeys he’d left on your neck. He bent down to ghost his lips on your hairline before hauling himself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. You could faintly hear him rummaging around through your post-coital fog, coming back with a warm damp towel and starting the task of cleaning you up. 

While he did, he grabbed the phone from the room and dialed room service, ordering two meals, along with ice cream at your insistence, billing it to his room. Not that it mattered, you were staying here on your host’s dime. When he was done cleaning you, he laid on his side next to you, smiling down fondly as you still tried to catch your breath. 

“You did good.” He whispered, caressing your face. You managed a weak smile and laughed. 

“Don’t get soft on me now, Fushiguro.” You sighed. “I might just lose respect for you.”

He smiled down at you, basking in the afterglow of your liaison. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

Tags: @oikawaandkuroostan, @gummy-dummy

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Chapter three! I already skimmed through it and just. Holy fuck I’m falling in love with this series all over again, and this is just the opening arc, how the hell is this so good??? I’m genuinely just in awe and fuck is it making it hard to decide where to have a cut-off point for this chapter. I suppose we’ll just have to see what fate decides.

(Also, the temptation to just paste in all of the last three pages of the chapter is so incredibly strong, you don’t understand.)

[No. 3 - Entrance Exam]

We start off with some exposition: UA’s hero course is designed to give students all they need to go pro, and is the toughest and most popular hero course in the country, with only a 1 in 300 acceptance rate. Discounting the four slots that are recommendation students, that’s 36 slots a year, which is about…

Yeah. That’s a lotta applications, and that’s just for the hero course! 

Several alumni are mentioned: All Might, who declined the people’s choice award; Endeavor, who’s stopped more crimes than anyone else in recorded history; and Best Jeanist, who’s won the Best Jeanist award eight years running. (One of these things is not like the other~ One of these things just doesn’t belong~) The exposition suggests that graduating from UA is basically a requirement for becoming a great hero - something which we’ll learn soon enough isn’t quite true.

But yeah, Endeavor with the record for crime handling, even above All Might. Quite the impressive hero, though that face…

Not precisely reassuring.

So yeah, Izuku here mentions the date of the exam - February 26th. I figure that this has to be a Sunday, for the simple fact that Japan has a slightly different school schedule than us. Most notably: Japanese schools (some of them, anyways) have 5.5 day school weeks. Yes, that means the first half of Saturday can still be a school day. 

While I couldn’t confirm for sure whether this is more common among the higher end schools, I feel like a school like UA, with its ‘Plus Ultra’ motto, would definitely be a school to have a half-day (or even a full day) on Saturdays, and since they also have to accomodate for middle schools that have Saturday morning classes, I figure that it would make the most sense for UA to schedule this exam on a Sunday. 

The benefits of this, as we’ve already seen, is that we can then narrow down the timeline for the rest of the series, just based on that single, confirmed date. We know from the last chapter that the Sludge Villain had to happen on a Thursday or Friday of the first week of school (April 14th/15th), with the first training session two days later (the 16th/17th). But what this also gives us is when Izuku’s first year of UA starts, AND the possible years it could start on. 

Since we see the glowing baby is in a modern hospital, we can assume that’s correlated to about our times. Give it a few generations, and we can guess that we’re in the 2200s or 2300s for the current era. Based on that assumption, we get the following years that have February 26th on a Sunday:

23rd century potential years: 2204, 2209, 2215, 2226, 2232, 2237, 2243, 2254, 2260, 2265, 2271, 2282, 2288, 2293, 2299

24th century potential years: 2310, 2316, 2321, 2327, 2338, 2344, 2349, 2355, 2366, 2372, 2377, 2383, 2394, 2400

As a side note, when I got into the series, my brain weirdly latched onto the idea that this had to all be happening in the year 2317. I don’t know why I decided on that number, but that’s what I rolled with, and hilariously I could be RIGHT about the year the current manga arc is happening in, provided Izuku’s first year is in 2316. Sometimes you just know, ya know? I know at least one other friend made these calcs independently of me and chose to run with 2237, which is totally valid! Probably makes more sense to be in the 2200s, but there’s room depending on how much time one thinks has passed.

As for when Izuku’s high school school year starts, we know that Japanese schools start on the second Monday of April. Since we don’t know if this is a leap year or not, we’ll end up with two dates, but that’s fine!

Feb 26 (Sun) -> Feb 27 (Mon) -> March (6/5, 13/12, 20/19, 27/26) -> April (3/2, 10/9)

Therefore, Izuku’s first day of classes (not counting the orientation, which I’ve seen a few other timelines assume is on the Sunday before classes start) is April 10th (or the 9th if a leap year)! I know this is all in the future from this chapter, but still, I wanted to share this at some point and figured now was as good a time as always.

Math!

Sorry, I’ve just wanted to share this math I did for a while now, I put a lot of work into it and I am very proud of it. Let’s get back to the chapter.

So Izuku lives a 40 minute train ride away from UA, and has made it just in time for the exam. Apparently, this is only the practical portion? Or well, that’s the part that gets focused on in this chapter, with no mention of the paper exam. I would imagine they’d be the same day, though? But I suppose one can do whatever they like with it.

He’s standing there looking at the school, thinking about how he didn’t have a chance to test the power, while the other students head in-

Excuse me, Toga?? I know that hairstyle is just a bit off, but… ???

...right, anyways. Izuku is wondering whether the hair really did anything (also, it was apparently sour, which, ew.) Katsuki comes up behind him and tells him to move aside.

Truly a flattering image. Izuku panics a bit and greets him, but Katsuki just walks by without another word or gesture, leaving Izuku confused as he watches him head on into the building. The narrative notes that since the villain incident, Katsuki hadn’t bothered Izuku, while the unnamed characters in the background apparently recognize Katsuki from the ‘sludge’ incident (well, not shocked how the fandom held onto that name). 

Izuku notes that he’s gotta stop flinching instinctively, and then tries to hype himself up, noting that it’s not like before, and think about the past ten months while taking a wobbly step forward- and then tripping over himself.

I’m sorry Izuku just has so many fantastic faces in this chapter I am crying trying to limit myself to just a few. But yeah, that little derp as he realizes what’s happening is adorable, especially while Ochako gently sets him back on his feet. She mentions that it’s her quirk, and apologizes for using it, but that it’s a bad omen to trip and fall. (I wonder if that gets played with again during later parts of the series… will have to check to see.)

While Izuku freaks out over talking to a girl, Ochako notes that the exam is nerve-wracking, and then heads off while wishing both of them luck as Izuku stares after. 

This fucking kid. I love him so much. His flustered excitement gets him some weird looks from the others still outside.

We transition to a new character (Present Mic) who immediately shows off his performative side by calling for a ‘hey!’ which… is met with silence from the crowd. He doesn’t let this throw him off, instead letting them know that he’ll present the guidelines for the practical, followed with a ‘YEAH!’ that gets met with an even heavier silence.

Izuku and Katsuki are seated next to each other, with Izuku descending right into excited muttering over Present Mic and how he listens to his radio show every week. Also with the assumption that all the UA teachers are pro heroes, which I mean, true, but still. Katsuki tells Izuku to shut up.

Present Mic explains the test: ten minute long ‘mock cityscape maneuvers’, with the applicants split among seven arenas, labelled ‘A’ through ‘G’. With more than 10k applicants total, that’s about…

Yeah, more than 1500 per arena. Fucking hell, no wonder the robots deplete so quickly in only a few minutes. Also of interest:

“Bring along whatever you want.” So technically, if Izuku were able to procure the tech and training to handle the robots, there would be nothing keeping him from getting into UA quirkless… though I imagine any kid who gets in mostly on tech probably gets side-eyed… though if said kid made their OWN tech, they might also get an offer from the Support department.

(AU where Mei accidentally took the heroics exam and got a shitload of points, but she ended up taking the offer for Support instead despite setting the record for most points in said exam. Katsuki forever wants to fight her. Izuku and her are good friends.)

Also, another thing I love is how Katsuki just told Izuku to shut up a moment ago, and then:

He’s the one to initiate conversation on the details of the test, basically agreeing on the reasoning behind dividing up the students between arenas. Katsuki is annoyed at not being able to crush Izuku, which has Izuku awkwardly silent. 

Also mini-Mic.

Poor, poor Mic. He just wants audience participation. Anyways, he continues on to explain the points system, with the help of cute little Mario-themed silhouettes. There are three kinds of faux villains, with different points awarded for defeating each based on their difficulty levels. Also, attacking other examinees is prohibited!

A student (cough Tenya) raises their hand to ask a question, going on to note that the handout sheet appears to have four varieties of villain, and that such a blatant error (if it is one) reflects poorly on Japan’s top academy. He then spins around and points at Izuku, calling him out for his muttering and how distracting he’s been, and that ‘if this is some sort of game to you, then please leave immediately!’ 

Is that… Mineta seated behind Izuku? I can’t find another panel that disproves that theory, so. Whelp. If you ever for some reason want to have Izuku accidentally deal with the grape early, he’s right there. 

Anyways, Present Mic brings the convo back to the initial question/comment, noting that the fourth villain is worth zero points, and is more of an obstacle. He then brings up Super Mario Brothers, the old retro game, and compares the Zero Pointer to a thwomp. There’s one per site, serving as a gimmick that’ll rampage in close quarters. Tenya thanks Mic and apologizes for the interruption. 

And so we get our final words from Present Mic:

??? either he's referencing the original guy (which I think would be a misquote because I doubt OG Nap ever noted anything like that) or some French hero or the like who took on the name.

Discord offered this to me while putting together the post:

So there you have it. Tentatively confirmed.

Those EYES man, dude’s got the Rinnegan going on.

Honestly, I have to end on this panel just because of that last line from Present Mic. Like, look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the exact point to end on. 

The discord’s takeaway from this:

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 9: Follow The Rules]

Hi y’all, I hope you are all doing well 💜

Chapter summary: Veronica has some questions, Roger has a plan, John has a short temper. 

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

At the wedding, Roger is wearing a cast on his right arm and a dazzling smile...and a white suit that he looks criminally good in.

John is in black, Brian in blue, Freddie in maroon-colored velvet and heavy eyeliner. Veronica’s dress is high-waisted and falls in huge, billowing, shapeless ruffles to hide her silhouette. Her family knows, of course—it’s written all over the tense, grim lines of their mouths and the blades their pale eyes hurl at John—but none of those strict Catholics are going to mention an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in God’s house, nor at the modest reception in the church basement that follows the ceremony.

Veronica’s mother and aunts and sisters are just like her, docile and milky-skinned and small-boned, and you’ve helped them deck the vast room with enough flowers, ribbons, candles, and balloons to make everyone forget this event was thrown together in five weeks and on a shoestring budget. There’s a simple buffet with pot roast and potatoes and vegetables, a live band (some of John’s old friends from high school), and a homemade Polish honey cake baked by Veronica’s grandmother situated regally on a china serving dish. Veronica and John cycle through the tables of guests, smiling and nodding and thanking them for coming, dutifully and yet also seemingly genuinely cheerful.

“The boning is bloody impaling me,” Chrissie murmurs as she tugs at the bodice of her gown. It’s satin and a muted pink, just like yours and Mary’s and Veronica’s sisters’. “If I happen die, wrap me in one of those nice tablecloths I paid for and throw me in a ditch somewhere, will you love?”

“You got it.” You stab a piece of potato with your fork. “This should inspire you to be especially compassionate towards your own bridesmaids! Maybe no horrid shiny green.”

Brian chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“Are you comfortable?!” Chrissie asks Mary, exasperated, fanning herself with a wedding program.

“I am,” Mary admits cautiously. “But...well...at the moment, I think my dress is a bit...roomier.”

Chrissie moans, dropping her face into her hands. “I always gain when the students go home for summer. My routine is wrecked, all I want to do is read Glamour magazines and listen to records, it’s too damn hot to go walking...and I adore ice cream.”

“I like you just fine,” Brian reassures her.

Freddie snickers as he taps his cigarette against an ashtray. “Yes, we’re all well aware of your anatomical preferences, Bri.”

Chrissie rolls her eyes. “Please do not elaborate.” She’s not offended—she’s far too used to Freddie’s shenanigans to be offended—but she’ll be embarrassed if he makes a scene at a wedding.

“Darling, I don’t care what anyone tries to tell you, plenty of men love a little extra meat on the bones. Particularly the ass bones.”

“We’re in God’s house!” you scold him in a hiss. “You’re going to give Great Aunt Zofia over there an aneurysm if she hears you!”

Roger quips: “Great Aunt Zofia stole the last kielbasa right out of my disabled, ineffectual  grasp, so fuck her.”

You all burst into shocked, uncontrollable laughter. Great Aunt Zofia squints judgmentally at the commotion from several tables away, gnawing on her kielbasa; she’s been glaring at John and Veronica—the Tetzlaffs’ very own fallen angel—since she first ambled into the church. Roger rocks back in his chair, smoking with his unbroken left arm, smirking cockily and basking in the distraction from the real world that the wedding has gifted you all tonight. He catches you watching him—marveling at him, truthfully—and winks.

John appears and rests his hands on the back of your chair. “What’s so amusing? I swear, I leave you people alone for two hours and you’re having all sorts of fun without me, I won’t stand for it!”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” you tell him. “I’d forgotten how beautiful Catholic weddings are, all the music and ambiance.”

“And from what I saw, you knew most of the words.”

“We have a lot of Irish people in Boston. Saint Patrick’s Day is bigger than Christmas.”

John points at Roger’s cast. “It’s not paining you too much, is it?”

Roger holds his Dark ‘n Stormy aloft, and ice clinks in the misted glass. “Enough of these, and I can’t feel anything. Numb to the world’s many disappointments. I highly recommend it.”

“Noted,” John replies. Roger has pills for his arm, but they only take the edge off. You don’t know that because he’s told you; Roger never tells you that he’s hurting, that he’s frustrated, that he’s afraid. He wears grins and flippant humor like a second skin, shrouding his wounds—both physical and disembodied, old and new—in darkness. Still...you can see all those words he doesn’t say swimming in the depths of his eyes. “I think I’ll hunt down a Manhattan myself.”

“Dad made an impression!” you tell John enthusiastically. “I’ll have to let him know, he’ll be overjoyed.”

“He mixes a good one, that’s for sure. I doubt Cousin Bartosz will be able to compare.” He casts a glance at a perplexed-looking, flame-haired teenager manning a tiny wet bar.

“Booze won’t help you heal,” Freddie informs Roger, checking his reflection in Mary’s makeup compact and fluffing his lustrous hair. “Eat your vegetables. Get more sleep. When do you start physical therapy, again?” Then, to you: “Darling, when does Roger start his therapy?”

Roger sighs. “I’ve got it handled, Fred.”

“Dear, don’t have a fit, I just want to make sure you’ll be ready—”

“I’ve got it handled,” Roger repeats, his tone a warning.

Brian breaks the tension with a toast, his Vesper jangling against Roger’s Dark ‘n Stormy. “I’m thrilled, honestly. Now I’m not the only one who’s ruined a tour.”

Roger grimaces. “Thanks, Bri.”

“Yes, let’s all have a turn,” Freddie mutters, sipping champagne. “Deaky can electrocute himself while fiddling with his amp, and then I’ll...what? Have my foot chewed off by an alligator in New Orleans? Get gored by a wild boar outside Atlanta? It just can’t be a boring maiming, that’s my only request.”

“Alaska has grizzlies, huge ones,” Brian suggests.

“Darling, in what dimension would my luxurious self ever end up in fucking Alaska?”

You shake your head, frowning down into your wine glass. It’s June now, the dead center of a crestfallen year: the rest of the Sheer Heart Attack Tour is cancelled, the record company is furious, and the band is broker than ever. Queen is supposed to start recording their next album—their last album, the record company insists, unless it happens to be a runaway success—in July, but you don’t know if Roger’s arm will be healed in time. None of you know that. You wonder if this really is God’s house, or at least one of his homes, sanctified piles of bricks and glass scattered across the globe; maybe you could ask Him where Queen’s future lies.

Veronica swoops in and dusts an airy kiss onto Mary’s cheek, and then Chrissie’s, and then yours. “Thank you so much,” she gushes. Her high cheekbones are flushed, her watery eyes sparkling. She’s in heaven, sinner or not. Her massive white dress swishes with every step. “We couldn’t have done it without you. And you’re next, Chris! I can’t wait.”

Chrissie smiles. She and Brian are getting married just before Christmas. “Yes, well, time will tell if we’ll be serving Christmas ham or canned beans.”

“And then Mary...” Veronica’s gaze migrates across the table. Mary’s been wearing a ring on her wedding finger since Queen returned from Japan, a simple gold band that once belonged to Freddie’s mother. “What about you, Y/N? Any plans? Then we’d all be hitched!”

Red wine spurts from your lips and you fumble for a cloth napkin. Roger doesn’t believe in marriage, and neither do you; not after only four months together, anyway. And yet...is there some part of you that can’t help but think of papers and rings when you get lost in his eyes, of promises of forever, of some way to tie yourself to him like vessels to a heart? Sure; and that’s a little wonderful, that’s a little terrifying. “Uh, uh, oh, oh no, definitely no plans whatsoever.”

“What bollocks!” Rog sneers. “Really, what’s the point if you’re not religious? Who needs a bloody piece of paper to prove they love someone?! ‘I care for you so much I need the government to know we’re together and the hassle of divorce fees to make me stay,’ what the fuck. I mean, uh, no offense John, Bri, uh...this is all well and good for you, but...ah...”

“It’s just not your scene. That’s fine, Rog,” Freddie says with a tad too much empathy. Mary doesn’t seem to notice.

“But you’ll want children at some point, won’t you?” Veronica asks you, almost pained. She’s not trying to be cruel, you realize; she genuinely can’t fathom the pinnacle of a woman’s life as anything but being a wife and mother.

“Theoretically, sure. One day. Eventually.” You titter nervously. Roger’s good arm circles your shoulders, his cigarette lofting smoke. Oh, but wouldn’t he make beautiful children? You push that thought away. It’s too soon, it’s too much, it’s not in the cards for an impoverished maybe-drummer and his girlfriend; and a girlfriend—with all the intangibility and impermanence that title entails—is all I’ll ever be. “I think I need to travel the world a bit more first.”

John sighs and pats the back of Veronica’s hand. What is that weight in his voice...impatience? Annoyance? “Ronnie, please, don’t bother her.”

Veronica sulks, scraping the old scuffed linoleum floor with her pointy white heels. “I wasn’t trying to bother anyone...”

Mary comes to the rescue: “No, of course not. You didn’t, dear.” She likes Veronica more than Chrissie does. Isn’t she oppressively vapid? Chrissie has asked you more than once. Isn’t she so miserably naïve? Veronica is sweet, sure, but she has no fucking idea what she’s in for. “Babies are wonderful, but they do make things harder, don’t you think? Especially for the mother. You have to be ready to drop everything for them. All your other interests and aspirations.”

“I suppose,” Veronica mumbles. You can tell she’s thinking: What other aspirations?

“But you must be so excited!” You beam up at Veronica. It’s her wedding day, and John’s; it should be happy, it should be optimistic. And you’re learning to like Veronica—less than Mary, but more than Chris—because you know that’s the best thing for John.

She instinctively rests her hand on the swell of her belly; or, rather, where it must be somewhere beneath all those heaps of satin and tulle. Great Aunt Zofia’s glare intensifies. “I’m scared to death, to tell you the truth.”

“Why?!” Mary cries.

“I’m so afraid something will happen to him.” Veronica’s voice is soft, her blue eyes glassy. She’s certain the baby is a boy, claims she had some sort of dream about it. “There’s a lot of bad luck going around for us, isn’t there? And my mother lost four babies. Any time he stops moving, I worry constantly until my next appointment. I haven’t felt anything in days, and I just...I just...” She trails off, staring vacantly across the crowded church basement. She’s trying not to cry, you realize.

“I can try to check for you,” you offer. “If it would make you feel better.”

“Really?” Veronica sounds hopeful, but guardedly so.  

“This is embarrassing, but I carry my nurse kit almost everywhere I go now. That’s why I brought my huge blue purse even though it doesn’t match the dress. You know, you can’t be too careful...”

“Yes, who knows when someone will try something idiotic like jogging backwards down the stairs?” Freddie muses. Roger lobs a pierogi at him. Great Aunt Zofia wheezes out a disgusted huff and crosses her veiny, wrinkled arms over her sagging chest.

“I have a stethoscope,” you continue. “I can’t guarantee I’ll find a heartbeat, but I’ll give it a try if that would help.”

“Would you, Y/N?” Veronica clutches for John’s hand, and he lets her take it without any resistance; but he doesn’t seem to know how to comfort her. He has the same dazed look on his face that he has a lot these days, the same look that Bri and Freddie sometimes get: like they’re on autopilot, like they’re actively filtering through brainwaves to fish out any that wander astray. Roger lands a kiss on your bare shoulder and pitches you a playful smirk, his I’m so proud of my too-fucking-smart girlfriend smirk.  

You grab your purse from beneath the table. “Does God’s house have a cozy private spot somewhere?”

Veronica leads you, Mary, and Chrissie to a small unoccupied room that is used (how pertinently) as the church nursery. The pink wallpaper is dotted with waddling ducklings, cloud-shaped sheep leaping over fences, smiling suns and winged cartoonish angels. Veronica settles into a faded blue couch, and Mary and Chris help her shove aside the massive plumes of her wedding dress to reveal the plain shift she’s wearing underneath. She’s over five months along now, and her entirely unremarkable bump seems colossal on her delicate frame.

You pop the headset into your ears and press the chestpiece against Veronica’s unyielding belly, gliding it over the pearly shift as you try different positions.

“Anything?” Mary asks anxiously.

“It’s not bloody instant, Mary!” Chrissie snaps. “Be quiet so she can listen.”

“No need to be cranky—”

“You can’t find a heartbeat, can you?” Veronica says, her voice quivering. “Oh god...”

“Found it,” you announce. You hold the chestpiece in place as you yank the headset off and pass it to Veronica.

She gapes at you. “You’re just saying that so I’ll stop worrying, aren’t you?”

“Hear for yourself.”

Veronica takes the headset and listens, closing her eyes as the rapid-fire and rhythmic swishing of her child’s heartbeat floods through her ears. “Oh,” she breathes, beaming. “There he is.”

“That’s incredible!” Mary trills. “Can I hear too, Veronica? Whenever you’re finished...”

Mary listens, and Chrissie does too, and then you all help touch up Veronica’s hair and makeup before you head back to the reception. The cake is due to be cut in twelve minutes. As you smooth the short train on her dress, Veronica turns back to you.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asks timidly, hugging her belly. “You know...for this.”

“That’s something I’ve always liked about nursing. So many jobs require sorting out who’s right and wrong, casting judgment, assigning punishment. There’s no weighing of the moral scales in medicine. It doesn’t matter if a patient is trustworthy, deceitful, good, bad, worthy, undeserving, if they disappoint you, if they’re the ones who hurt themselves. You treat everyone, you heal everyone. And I would like to keep that part of myself for as long as I can.” You smile at Veronica. “But, for the record, no. I don’t think you’re a bad person at all.”

She sighs in relief, untethering an anchor she hadn’t even known she’d been dragging around by her throat. “Thank you,” she whispers, tears snaking down her powdered ivory cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on.”

“How do you feel about marble lion statues? You know, the ones at the end of long, winding driveways. Rich people’s driveways. Mansion driveways. Or do you prefer gargoyles?”

“Roger.”

He groans, grins, presses his right fist into your palm. You measure the force with your mind, with your muscle memory. He’s stronger than he was yesterday, the day before, last week. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rog teases. “You’ve got a soft spot for damaged people. Helpless people. That’s why you warmed to Brian so quickly. He was lying there all gaunt and jaundiced and terrified, and you just couldn’t resist, you just had to make sure all his wildest dreams came true.”

“I have a soft spot for self-destructive musicians who end up in hospitals, evidently.” Your gaze cruises over the scar on Roger’s forearm where the surgeons popped his bones back into place, stabilized them, stitched the ragged gore closed. You hate looking at it; you hate reminders of how mortal Roger really is.

“I want lions,” Rog decides. “For the driveway of our eventual mansion. I like the Leo connection.”

“And the Queen crest connection.”

His grin widens, toothy and radiant. “See, I knew you were the love of my life.”

“Come on. Again.”

He winces this time. “Doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Uh huh. I bet.” You’ve slathered his fresh blisters with numbing antiseptic ointment, iced his arm, administered pain medicine, allowed him the constant sips of alcohol necessary for him to work, to drum, to sleep. But he still hurts. You imagine he hurts all the fucking time.

It’s August now, and Queen is recording their fourth album at Rockfield Farm. You and Roger are sitting by the pool as Freddie splashes around in the clear chlorine-smelling water trying to get John’s attention. John, meanwhile, is lounging on an inflatable raft, wearing black sunglasses and most likely asleep. Brian circles the pool snapping photos with your Canon F-1.

“I have a plan,” Roger informs you as he starts his stretches without prompting. He knows the drill, even if he likes to be difficult about it.

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“Fred’s thing, the weird one. It has a name now.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, it’s perfect!” You try to stay out of the band’s business decisions as much as possible; it’s not your expertise, and it’s not your place, and there are already a few too many creative chefs in that kitchen. Still, you love when they share their magic with you. “Eccentric, whimsical, exhilarating. Just like the song. Just like Queen.”

“I’m so glad you approve. We’re going to make sure it’s the first single off the album. And I know exactly what song’s going to be on the B-side. Freddie and Bri don’t know yet, but I do.”

“Sounds like they’re going to murder you when they find out.”

“I’ll convince them.” His grin is crafty, daring. “Picture it: you’ve just finished the incomparable experience that is Bohemian Rhapsody. You’re a newly converted Queen enthusiast. What could possibly come next? You flip the record over. And the virile, screeching, pure rock and roll passion of I’m In Love With My Car is there to greet you.”

“Oh my god, Roger.” You shake your head in mock mourning. “They actually are going to murder you.”

“Listen, love, BoRhap is going to be a hit. I can feel it.”

“Sure,” you agree lukewarmly. You want to be supportive, you really do. But disappointment stings more than resignation.

“It will be,” Roger maintains, unmovable. “And it’ll sell mountains and mountains of singles...and with my song on the B-side, I’ll get half the royalties. Which means we’ll get half the royalties.”

“Which is how we end up with the hypothetical mansion.”

“I’m being serious.” Roger picks up his mini barbell weights from the water-splattered concrete and begins his bicep curls, flinching each time he lifts his right fist.

“Rog—”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m going to make this happen. I’m going to get rich so I can provide for my family. You know about that, you know it’s on my list. And my family includes you now.”

“I don’t need a mansion, Roger.” I just need you. You stare at his right arm worriedly. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m fine!” he shouts, and you recoil. Brian peers over from where he’s taking pictures of blooming purple foxgloves. Instantly, Roger regrets it. “I’m sorry,” he says, setting down the barbells and cradling your face with his rough, bandaged hands. “I have to be fine, you know? I don’t have a choice. If I can’t play, I can’t be in the band. If I leave, John will leave too, and that’ll be the end of everything. Or worse, John will break the pact and stay and they’ll find a new drummer and forget all about me. Sail off into some blissful new future. And where will I be? Moping as I drag myself back to dental school? Becoming a freaking lab biologist? Resigning myself to being some excruciatingly ordinary bloke, someone who climbed just far enough out of Cornwall to know everything he’s missing out on?”

You try to imagine who Roger would be without the band, but you can’t. You’ve never known a pre-Queen Roger. “No,” you say, amused. “You’ll never be just some ordinary bloke. You’re too brilliant, too determined. Even if you do have a dodgy arm.”

He kisses you, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile beneath yours. “So you’ll let me buy you a mansion.”

“If you get I’m In Love With My Car on the B-side, and BoRhap is a hit, and Freddie and Bri don’t smother you with a pillow in your sleep...yes, you can buy me a mansion. Buy us a mansion.”

He winks, his sapphire eyes glinting in the late-summer sunlight. “Watch out, baby. I get everything I want eventually.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s done,” John tells the others as he passes out copies of his new song, the second he’s ever written. There are only four sheets of crisp white paper; as you watch from the studio couch, you wonder what the song is about, why he didn’t mention it to you.

“It’s done?!” Brian yelps. “What do you mean, it’s done?! Nothing’s ever done after the first pass! That’s how it works, that’s how it always works, someone suggests something and then we all dice it and slice it and flip it around and stitch it back together like the world’s most maniacal surgeons, and then, only then, maybe, it’s done.”

You glance up from where you’re sewing an eleventh patch onto Roger’s jeans. “Must we disparage the medical profession?”

“Sorry, love,” Roger tosses to you with a laugh.                          

“It’s done,” John repeats.

“Deaky, darling,” Freddie ventures gently. “We should endeavor to keep our minds open to collaboration—”

“Oh, should we, Fred?!” Bri exclaims. “How extraordinary, you never seem to encourage collaboration when it’s your song on the cutting floor!”

“Okay space boy, you listen here—”

“‘I’m happy at home’?!” Roger reads, revolted. “We’re not the bloody Bee Gees, Deaks!”

John explains measuredly and patiently, as if to a child: “That’s the way it goes. We record it as it is or not at all.”

“That’s not how we do things,” Brian mutters, deep frown lines chiseled through his face as he scans the lyrics.

“Then just fill the album with your and Fred’s songs like you always do, I’m sure that’ll keep me and Roger loyal.”

Brian glares at John. John stares back stoically, his eyes like steel. Brian looks to Roger for support; Roger lights a cigarette and pretends not to notice.

“Darling, please, you’re not being reasonable!” Freddie pleads.

“I need it.” John turns to Roger now. “I need it to stay the way it is.”

Rog just watches him for a while, exhales smoke, shrugs. “Okay,” he says at last.

“Okay?!” Brian howls. “What do you mean, okay?!”

“He said he needs it,” Roger replies simply.

Bri throws his hands into the air. “Bleeding christ! ‘He needs it.’ What rubbish! Do something, Fred!”

“Oh relax, darling.” Freddie sashays to the microphone and points to Brian’s Red Special. “Let’s try it out.”

“But—!”

Roger claps Brian on the back as he trots by him towards the drum kit. “Come on, Bri. Big smiles. Just picture the nice shiny pounds from all those album sales plinking into your bank account. You’ll have fifty Christmas hams at the wedding, one for every guest.”

You listen passively from the couch as they rehearse, trying not to let on that you’re paying attention, trying not to overstep. But you can’t help being struck by the lyrics, feeling the somberness of Freddie’s voice and John’s tentative notes on the electric piano slink into your bones; because it sounds so familiar, because it echoes so many things that John has told you.

When Queen takes a mid-afternoon break and John slips into the kitchen for a Coke, you follow him.

“Hey John?”

“Yeah.” He rests his hands on the dining room table. They’re sturdy and unmarred and completely unlike Roger’s; and you aren’t sure why you notice this, but you do.

“I completely understand if I’m being intrusive, and if I am please just tell me to shut up and I will.”

He chuckles. “You’re never intrusive. Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering...who is You’re My Best Friend about?”

Now his smile evaporates. “No one in particular,” he says briskly. “It’s just a song. Just something to put on the album. Maybe a single one day. A soulless royalties grab.”

That seems unlikely. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He takes a swig of Coke, peers down at the table, traces swirls of centuries-old oak with his fingertips.

“It’s just...you know...well...it kind of sounded like...maybe it was about me.”

He looks up. And for the first time, John levels some of his infamous, razored words at you: “Don’t be such a fucking narcissist.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, John doesn’t apologize. But he smiles at you over tea, offers to clean off the fingerprints of strawberry jelly that Roger left on the Canon, splashes you from the pool as you sunbathe beneath lapis August skies. And you agree, wordlessly and unconditionally, to forgive him. Because John is your best friend, whether or not you’re still his.

Nine weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody is released as a single. (And, as promised, Roger ensures that I’m In Love With My Car is on the B-side.)

Twelve weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody reaches the #1 spot on the UK Singles Chart, and remains there for over two months.

Fifteen weeks later, A Night At The Opera becomes the #1 album in the UK.

Fifteen weeks later, Queen’s future is suddenly crystal clear.

[theunderdogwrites]

2020: The Year I Lost My Ass

Well, we reached the end of that toilet roll only to start another one, because that is what we do for as long as we are allowed to continue revolutions around the sun – we keep going.

2020 was a terrible year for so many. My brain is incapable of processing the number of losses suffered on a global scale. Be it jobs, security, rights, sanity, relationships or life. My brain is not just incapable of these calculations, it has plain refused to entertain those thoughts on behalf of my heart. My heart, that sensitive little blood pumping work horse who not once allows itself to stop. Thank goodness.

I don’t believe the majority of people are willing and able to bring themselves to fully comprehend what was lost in 2020.

Here is a list of a few more losses suffered last year:

- People lost their shit. And over the most ridiculous things like toilet paper, having to wear a mask to secure toilet paper and being held to the consequences resulting from not wearing a mask when asked to while attempting to purchase toilet paper. Pause for a moment and let that last sentence hang around in your mind. 2020 made that happen. I didn’t make it up! Recently I saw a news piece showing a man (40’s) lying down on the floor in a Costco to protest being asked to wear a mask. He spoke loudly, he beat his hands at his sides and wildly kicked his legs when an employee asked him to get up. Now, I am not judging for I too have participated in such behaviour MANY times. Granted I was three, but hey… some of us mature faster than others.

 - People lost their damn minds. 2020 should be dubbed “The Year of The Karen”. For those of you not in the know about the Karen phenomenon, here is a description courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

 “Karen is a pejorative term used in the United States and other English-speaking countries for a woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is appropriate or necessary. A common stereotype is that of a white woman who uses her privilege to demand her own way at the expense of others.’

 Basically, a Karen is a I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER type person (There is a male equivalent, but it seems no one can agree on the name… Chad, Terry, Kyle, Kevin, Steve). You can often find a Karen on her cellphone calling the police to report a black man who lives in her neighborhood, simply living his life in her neighbourhood. I didn’t make that up either.

 More recently a Karen was videoed in a UPS store claiming that she didn’t have to wear a mask because that space was government property and not a private business. Would it be safe to say that most Karen types suffer from a lack of oxygen to their brain? Possibly. But that would involve science and Karen types DO NOT enjoy hard facts.

 As always when I download my thoughts into reality, I must go within and search myself. Am I a Karen? My immediate answer is: no fucking way. I can honestly say I’ve never once asked to see a manager or called the police to report someone eating their lunch on a park bench. I do not enjoy confrontation. Unless there is a bully involved. Then I will drag that person to hell with me. I much prefer discussion over going straight to the ‘I triple dog dare you!’ approach to the world. (If you got that reference, you are my new favourite) Because that is who a Karen really is… someone who jumps right to the most extreme action in order to satisfy their need to be superior. Truly, we should feel sorry for these people because instead of engaging they’re raging. And how awful must their insides feel… always full of anger, fear and self doubt. I say instead of judging these Karen types or putting them on blast on social media, we should hug the shit out of them. Just grab them and squeeze as hard as you fucking can until they stop talking. Peaceful solutions my friends, peaceful solutions.

 - Pets lost their faith in us. Children a close second. If you are a proud owner of a pet or a child, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve always operated under the notion that my cat loves it when I’m home and hates it when I leave. 2020 has taught me it might be the other way around. Because our animals are, well, animals we just believe our presence is the greatest gift in their lives. Remember when you were old enough to be left alone by your parents and once you had the taste of that kind of freedom, you just wanted more of it and couldn’t wait for them to go out? I feel it’s like that with our pets now. We might not think animals have a routine or preferences or enjoy some alone time, but we’d be wrong.

I think at first our pets were thrilled. If we are home more it means more time for prolonged petting, walks and the opportunity to ritualistically train us to respond to their caterwauls for more food and treats than normal. But then as the weeks of lockdown and working from home increased, so did our pets desire to kill us in our sleep.

 I’m pretty sure my cat has asked me several times using her feline glare: “why the fuck won’t you just leave?”. It would be naïve of us to assume we don’t disrupt their day with our constant noise making and snacking and scotch drinking that leads to a good buzz that leads to showing too much affection to our pets. To the point where they run and hide when they see us coming. Please tell me I didn’t describe just my own experience.

 There is such a thing as everything in moderation, we know this, so I think it can be applied here. People, get away from your pets. Give them the space you often desire from human beings. Because if you don’t, that random turd in your shoe could be pointing to a much larger, more alarming problem you’re about to encounter.

 I had the absolute blessing of being able to assist in caring for and raising of my three nephews (12,9,6) for the last 11 years. So, when I say: ‘children are always watching us’, I feel I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been mimicked so often by these young boys that I’ve had to pause due to mortification. Children will hold you accountable without even knowing it. I’ve had some behaviours of mine corrected by a 5-year-old and let me tell you, it stings like hell.

 As adults, when our world was thrown into turmoil because of Covid-19, we looked to our medical health professionals and our politicians for guidance. Basically, we searched for those who would lead us. The children – looked to us. And while many adults handled this responsibility the best they possibly could, many more failed miserably and displayed attitudes I can only describe as juvenile, damaging and pathetic. I suppose it doesn’t help if the people the adults are looking to for help are themselves - juvenile, damaging and pathetic.

 When I say we still have not grasped just how much has been lost over the past year, I’m hinting at integrity, compassion and creditability. Three vital qualities you’d hope people want to instill into their children. But if they themselves are unable to display such valuable traits, what does this say for the children who are looking up to them as an example on how to act when life gets challenging?

 For myself in 2020, I gained by losing.

When they locked our gyms down for four months last spring, I came close to being one of those people who lost their shit. While people were moaning about wearing a mask for 20 minutes in the grocery store, I was contemplating if murdering those people could be considered a cardio exercise and would that hold up in a court of law.

To reflect on that time period now (especially since our gyms are closed AGAIN at the moment) the loss of the gyms brought me the knowledge of how important the routine of going to and being in the gym is to my mental health. I won’t launch into how I feel about shopping malls being open and gyms being closed despite their proven benefit to one’s overall health because then I really will lose my shit.

People always say getting to the gym is the hardest part and once they’re there it’s easy to workout. And for many that is the truth, but for me it’s all a part of the workout. Getting to the gym is the psychological effort. Putting in the work at the gym is the physical. You can’t have one without the other. I became so pathetic that I’d often walk to the closed gym from my house, stare at the closed doors and then walk home. 1.5 hour round trip. True story.

Remember a few years back everyone became obsessed with that Netflix show ‘Tidying Up with Marie Kondo’? It is the show where that lovely woman from Japan showed us all how to declutter our homes by getting rid of anything that didn’t bring us joy. Those acid wash jeans from 1989… sit with them… hold them close to your chest… if they don’t make you happy, remove them from your space. Well, the same idea can be applied to people and ideas and even feelings. And 2020 was a great year for simplifying our lives. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they can’t wait to get back to ‘normal’… not me. I’ve already started my ‘new normal’.

The loss of drama has gained me peace and a better understanding of the importance of remaining true to who I am instead of trying to please others in hopes it wins me points. Because it doesn’t. Because its inauthentic and only brings you more loss and more drama. And anxiety. And sleepless nights. And an overall sense of hatred for everyone. 2020 gave me the option to no longer care about the things that don’t make me happy and to embrace the process of letting all that stupid bullshit fade away.

It was a year of gained focus.

It was a year of gained appreciation.

It was a year of gained gratitude.

It was a year of gained love for myself.

 I’m going to leave you now, but not before I share one of my favorite songs by the Tragically Hip:

In A World Possessed by The Human Mind

Just give me the news

It can all be lies

Exciting over fair or the right thing at the right time

Everything is clear

Just how you described

The way it appears, "A world possessed by the human mind"

 Then I think I smiled

Then I think you said, "it's fine"

And quietly I dressed, in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 We're in awe of no one

We've none of their fear

Fighting's goin' nowhere and we stay right here

Where everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

"In the shadow of the law and with colours of justice"

 Then I hope I smiled

Then I'm sure you said, "It's fine"

They got no interest in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

Quiet enough to hear God rustlin' around in the bushes

Oh, but it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

 Then I hope I laughed

Then I hope I said, "it's fine"

And quietly undressed in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Oh it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgXphurrsE0

[seeyacowboy]

COFFEE TABLE JAZZ.

Shinso Hitoshi x reader

The coffee table jazz playlist on Spotify was a huge influence while writing this and if you like instrumental jazz I strongly suggest reading this with the smooth background noise. It’s been nice to write while taking a break from my fic “blood of a todoroki”. Warning: fluff.

Watching the window get covered in a light rain you let out a relaxed sigh. Lovely instrumental jazz was filling the coffee shop in Paris. You were on vacation by yourself which you had never done before, but you had just broken off a relationship a couple months prior and wanted to work on yourself. What better way than to fly across the ocean to go to the city of love. It was almost ironic. You take your coffee cup up to your lips and lightly blow on it trying your best to cool it down, inhaling the bean juice smell before ever heavy exhale. You look down to see yourself in the reflection. Giving yourself a little chuckle and making your lipstick looks okay before taking a sip. Once you are done you get up returning your plate and mug, then existing. The rain is light and thankfully you wore a nice hipster looking hat. Digging your hands into the pockets of your black jeans you start making your way down the street with no direction. You were just happy to be there.

You were able to go into a couple museums and see some land marks. You were over by the Eiffel tower trying to hail a cab but nothing seemed to work. No one wanted to stop. “Mind if I help you?” You hear a deep voice from behind. As you turn around you were bewildered. A gorgeous man with purple hair and sleepy eyes staring at you with a small smile on his face. “Yes, please. I don’t think I came to France to be stuck on this side walk all day.” You jokes both chuckling. A cab pulled over and the gentleman went over and opened the door for you. Before you got it you stopped and looked up at him. You just couldn’t help this feeling that you needed to know him. You’ve never felt anything like it in your whole life. “Leaving me so soon stranger?”You batted your eyes at him.“Well, how bold of you. Where are you headed?” He didn’t even blink as if trying to read your mind. “I’m just down north 10 minutes. My air bnb is the one with the flowers on the balcony you can’t miss it.” “You sure can’t I get coffee across the street.” “Oh, do you? Well in that cause how would you like to get a cup now?” You said with a sweet smile biting your bottom lip gently.“Are you two gonna get in the car or what?” Said the Parisian cab driver in French. You couldn’t help but look back at the young man and he smiled nodding his head to the side for you to get in knowing he would follow. “(Address of Airbnb) , please.” And the driver just nods. “So stranger” you look over at him. “What brings you to the city of love?”“Well, dear, I am here for work.” “Work ah? Well that’s no fun. Have you been able to see the sights?” The purpled hair man thought for a moment before looking at you with a response “yeah.. I’ve seen some beautiful sights.” You immediately blushed as the cab stopped. The stranger-gentleman opened the door and you both made your way out walking side by side into the coffee shop. Sitting down a cross from each other staying silent for a moment. “What’s your name, dear?” His face was soft yet blank. “(Y/n),(l/n) and you, stranger?”

“Hitoshi shinso”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you I got it for my birthday.”

You laugh. “Oh Hitoshi’s got jokes I see”

“ A few sometimes. So what brings you to France?”

“Well it’s love, but self love. I just got out of a relationship a couple months ago and I actually took it very hard. I’ve been traveling ever since. I’m not running from anything though. I’ve always wanted to experience different cultures. America is beautiful but it’s nothing like Europe or Japan. Which is actually where I’m headed in a couple days. I’m going to see if I can get a job working with a hero agency.”

“You just got up and left your whole life in America to work in Japan? Don’t get me wrong that’s very brave but why not just find one in the US?” Shinso’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Well hero’s in the states aren’t like hero’s over in Japan. They let the police handle a lot of the crimes and mostly do the publicity stuff. There’s a lot of things wrong over there right now and they don’t even have schooling for hero’s. If you have a combat quirk you might as well join the military and if not you’re pretty much considered normal.”

“So what does that make you?” He leaned closer and said a little low.

“Normal in the states terms. Im able to touch someone and see their past. It’s not very convenient but it helps me stay under cover being that it’s very subtle.”

“You must be such an empath.” He chuckled.

He had that right. So right it was your hero name. “ let me see your hand, please.”

“Not yet.” You leaned back in your chair and smirked.

After about four hours of talking, flirting and a lot of coffee, shinso walked you back to your air bnb across the street. It was pouring rain outside at this point ,but luckily the breeze-way was warm. After you hung your coat up you offered for Hito’ to come inside and have a glass of wine, but he kindly denied saying he had to get back to work shortly. You didn’t even realize a pout grew on your face until his hand was under your chin and his face was coming closer to yours. Letting each other’s lips lightly touch before he pulled away to look at you. You were breathless and he barely kissed you yet. Hitoshi smiled before going back in for another kiss. The longer he stayed there his memories started to flood in your brain. The bullying. The entry exams. The practice of his mind control quirk. Everything he’s ever lived through. Each moment made the kiss deeper. The bullying memories made you kiss him harder pulling him closer as if there was any more room. He had you up against the wall closest to the door. He knew passers by could see you on the other side of the glass. Neither of you cared. All you were focused on was the taste of each other. Your leg was wrapped around his waist and your hands pulling at each side of the collar of his white dress shirt. His hands went slowly up and down from your hips to your sides; at some points gently putting your hands around your neck just under your jaw to get you as close as possible. The kissing started to slow down until they were tiny pecks. “You sure you don’t want to come inside?” Mumbling out of your mouth between each smooch.

Shinso gave you one last kiss before resting his forehead on yours and closing his eyes. He looked like he was really restraining himself from saying yes. “If I do that I’ll be job searching with you by the time you get to Japan. What day do you go back?”

You rub the tip of your nose on his and whisper “3 days from now”

“Perfect- so do I. You know, (y/n) I’ve never met anyone like you. You simply take my breath away. Where have you been all my life?”

“Fixing myself for this moment.” You smiled.

[eallisnwndrlnd]

A New Year. A New Decade.

As I type away, only a couple of hours to go to lead us into not only a new year but a new decade. So many memorable moments that happened this year…some good…some not so much.

2019, a year that began with anxiety and stress as I began my final semester and final year of college and ended it with uncertainty of what the next year will bring with a bit of hope that things will get better.

As I begin to reflect on my 2019, I note that even with all my downs I had a lot more ups and so much to be thankful for this year. As some of my family and friends had many new joys to celebrate there are others near and dear that also suffered a lot of hardships and loss this year. For them I hope that this New Year will bring hope, joy, peace and many more blessings.

I stressed over my academic performance as my college years were coming to a close. As I lost myself in my thesis and trying to complete it and finding that pulling my hair strand by strand may have been less painful of a process. The stress of personal issues happening at home, my deepening depression, and self-inflicted stress from school, led to me smoking a ciggy after being more than 2 years smoke free. Albeit only two lung cancer sticks, but still a moment of succumbing to my go-to distressing vice. I was, however, more determined than ever to survive my senior year being on top. With many late, tiring nights I worked towards ending on a high note. And boy did I. After having graduating high school 19 years ago, I, Ethni, at 37 years of age FINALLY graduated college…as a foreign student…with honors to boot! Can you believe it folks? I actually managed to graduate cum laude. Holy mother of fruitloops, how the frak did I even do that and not go bald? An academic acknowledgement I never dreamed possible four years ago when I started my first year of college. An honor that I can solely chuck up to hard work and determination no matter how much I lacked in confidence or ability. Alas, I finally completed a long held dream to obtain a college degree even if it took me a long time to get there. Of course the dream initially was graduating back home years ago in my dream school NYU-Tish, but hey, there are moments when dreams and goals change depending on what cards you’re dealt with and how you deal with them.

This year I was able to go back home for a visit after being away for five years. Oh how I missed my family and friends and OMG the FOOD. (the latter gifted me 20 extra pounds to take back to the Philippines) As I went back to visit the people nearest and dearest to my heart, unfortunately not having enough time to see all of them,  I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. How much has changed in just those five years amazed me. I felt so odd when I visited my old workplace. I hardly remembered the halls I once roamed for three years. It felt so much farther back in time than it was that it almost felt like a dream rather than actual memories. I also found some odd connection to my hometown of Los Angeles that I don’t remember ever having in all the time that I lived there. Perhaps being away for as long I had gave me some new perspective of my birthplace that was something other than being at odds with it and not feeling like I belonged. Basically I can say I don’t hate L.A. as much as I did when I was so desperate to move away from it.

After graduating, I had so many things I still needed to complete before I could even begin to search for my new direction in life. I had to change my student visa status which was a trying and pricey task. I had to finalize the printing and binding of my thesis which I finally managed to do only a month ago…ahh ever the procrastinator that I, at times, can be.

As a part of my student visa downgrading tasks of having to deport myself briefly and return with tourist visa status, I was able to check off yet another goal of mine from my ever changing and growing bucket list. My ma and I made a three day vacation of it in Tokyo, Japan. This was a city I had wanted to visit for years but had to work at convincing my mom to let our trip itinerary be in Tokyo. With her memories of WW2 as a child, I couldn’t really blame her but thankfully she finally said yes. Tokyo is a remarkable city with a lot of history and traditions. We found the Japanese people to be some of the most respectful, disciplined, welcoming and helpful people we ever had the honor of meeting throughout our travels. There were a handful of standout moments like where one young lady even walked opposite of her direction to help show us where our hotel was. I definitely will make plans to return one day but for longer than the three days we were there and make sure that I go to Mount Fuji. 

Out of what I had hoped to accomplish from what I wrote last new year, I only managed to check off a few but hey, we all know that even one being checked off is practically a miracle for many of us.

I did get to learn a new language, bombarding my phone with language apps. I have managed to nearly memorize the Hangul alphabet. Now I just need to start memorizing the actual vocabulary and I’ll be good. I can now at least read several of the ingredients on Korean cosmetics and skincare products.  I have also added some words in Chinese, Japanese, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Gaelic, and Russian. (I tried Arabic but I need a one on one assistance with that one rather than an app) In one or two more years I hope to at least be mediocre in my ability to speak and understand Korean while learning a few more words from other languages. Of course I sometimes get confused as hell mixing up foreign words and their translations in my head. Some Chinese leaks into Korean sentences and Portuguese gets muddled with Spanish, Italian and French. The proper pronunciations and accents also get flipped around. I already had this issue with my second language, Tagalog, finding itself mixed in with my first language of English (U.S.) With my memory issues also adding to this problem, I may find myself one day accidentally saying a multilingual sentence without realizing it. I already have a bad habit of going Taglish around people who only understand the English part. 

I did cook and bake a lot more this year than I did last year to the point that my mother is complaining that I am spending too much money and time on ingredients for my baked concoctions. I even took the time to cook vegan dishes for much of my school lunches during my last semester. I did love to bake more often than cooking this year thus partly to blame for my added weight gain…

As one recent unsolicited comment from a male FB acquaintance said…”u really fat” Yes, darlin’, thank you so much for that ‘oh so keen’ observation (FYI I have a mirror and a plucking scale of my own. I don’t need input I didn’t ask for nor need. Ever heard the phrase “if you ain’t got nothing nice to say...shut tf up”?) . As he so gracefully put it, yes I’ll admit I added a bit more junk in my trunk this year rather than shedding it. And? Yeah so I admit, I piled on the dessert and snacks and revisited my obsession with video games that had me mimic the physical actions of a sloth or an overly blubbered seal to the point that I nearly gave myself tennis elbow and the posture of Igor. It also didn’t help that my fybro kept flaring up on and off this year which made me feel like a Golden Girl could take me down in one fell swoop and outrun me. Not to mention my constant and annoying friend that is called clinical depression and chronic anxiety that kept nipping at my heels that I’m lucky that I can even act like a functioning human most of the time. The fact that I can tell my inner negative voice to shut the duck up most of the time and ignore it, as well as wishing to not wake up at all only twice this year is a frakking miracle in itself. (Seriously though...what is up with some people that feel the need to foist their shallow insights on those that did not solicit it. And the added ludicrousness that sometimes this is supposed to lead into a flirt-on...I mean what kind of hells bells reverse psychology load of horse manure is that?)      

Unfortunately I did not read any books this year but I did read more news articles and try to keep myself up to date on current events. (and try tried to stay sane while reading them)

My writing progress stalled and I only have a long list of story ideas to show from it. There is one story I recently started outlining that I find hopeful. I think it has the legs to be a decent script if I can manage to focus on its development. That will be a big focus this coming year…to gain some momentum in my writing.

(currently being distracted by the onslaught of illegal fireworks popping in my neighborhood, hoping my house and neighborhood manages to survive these irresponsible idiots.)

The promise to keep up with my daily checklist died a hollow death early on in the year with my senior year and thesis weighing me down from being able to stay consistent. Well there’s always next year.

Sadly I didn’t get any higher in Gurushots but I did get one of my shot viewed along with other peoples work at a showing. Yay for the small things!

I did sell several of my clothes and accessories but still way more to go before I can say I am done. Like a HEEP load. Every time I see some clothes I want to buy I have to keep repeating “no more clothes” over and over again. I just try to picture Hasan Minhaj’s piece on fast fashion to control those horrible habits of mine. 

Even though I didn’t successfully check off a lot of what I wanted to complete for this year, I still look back to this year as a decent one even with my ever present depression and anxiety looming over me. Dude, I graduated college, I learned a new language, and I knocked off Tokyo from my bucket list. I think that was enough to make my year above meh and almost a big YAY!

As I near the close of this annual report of mine, I list these goals and hopes not set in stone but in rainbows (oh yes I just went there into ridiculousness!!!)

May I find a job I actually like rather than what I just deem as a necessary obligation to obtain a paycheck.

I will learn enough Korean to be able to legitimately claim that I am multilingual.

Finish reading the books that I have collected on my shelf before I leave the Philippines.

Cook and bake with a bit more flair and add more complicated dishes to my repertoire.

Sell and clear out more of my shit to prepare me for our move back stateside if all goes according to plan.

If I manage to shed enough off my caboose to fit in the jeans I already own that will be a small victory in itself and the only goal that deals with my rollipollies for the year. If any extra manages to come off along the way that’ll be just an added bonus.

Hitting reset on my daily checklist and will do my best to let it last longer than last year (I can say that now as it is currently past midnight and officially 2020 in my neck of the woods)

If I do move back stateside this year I will start saving towards my future goal of getting me a tiny home. (Seriously the perfect solution to my wanting a permanent home but not a permanent address and thus my added reason to shed the burden of most of my crap)

Complete my story outline and treatment and finalize the first draft of a 45 minute script.

Delve a bit more into my art and photography as well.

Get more sleep���(crappy sleeping habits I can lay blame to my current gaming and ongoing kdrama addiction and mindless internet browsing habits)

Begin volunteering once again.

With my final moving destination still unknown dependent on the job prospects I get, pretty sure I won’t be able to mark off any other travel destinations or adventures for the coming year.

Just be healthier not only in body but in mind and soul overall. I need to work on alleviating my health issues that aggravate my fybro as well as my anxiety. If my brain could shut the frak up and calm the frak down, and keep my ma’s schizophrenic outbursts and episodes to no more than an hour a day at least once in a while would be oh so lovely.

As long as I keep going and progress even in baby steps I will eventually get there.

For those that know me and my political ideology, they know what I especially hope for this year. Please oh please if there are any actual deities that exist or even if there isn’t…please let that outcome be a good one.

Now I end my annual New Year musings with a Happy New Years greeting to everyone. May we all find good and peace in this new year and may we have a better decade than the last one.

Goodbye 2019, I can’t say I’ll really miss thee. And goodbye to another decade.

Hello 2020, be better dammit and I promise that I will strive towards making it a positive and productive one for me, my family, my friends and with that, some decent contribution to this world we all live in.

[nanoka12]

Exclusive photos and long interview in Kiss & Cry--Yuzuru Hanyu: Be Myself

The open practice in Toronto, Canada at which many journalists also gathered this year. Hanyu, speaking about his new programmes, had a cheerful and calm expression. Half a year after his great feat of defending his Olympic title, what are the things he thinks of?

The FS which is a return to his own origins

The open practice which took place at the end of August at the Cricket Club in Toronto. On the first day, the music that played during his practice run through was Hungarian violinist Edvin Marton’s Art on Ice. Hanyu gave the programme set to the musical arrangement the name Origin. “It was a piece of music that made me begin to be engrossed in skating. I want to skate this programme while feeling the enjoyment of skating, the beginning of my skating life.”

Although Art on Ice is a piece of music that has been used by many skaters to date, among them the best known is probably the legendary programme Tribute to Nijinsky in the 2003-2004 season by Evgeni Plushenko, whom Hanyu loves and respects. 

“There is a very strong impression that Plushenko-san had skated to this piece of music. As it is one of his signature programmes, I had some slight feelings like not measuring up to it. During Continues~with Wings~ (13-15 April), I conveyed to Plushenko-san “Allow me to use this song”, and I received the words “Do your best” from him. The wonderful programme that Tribute to Nijinsky is, is also something that is extremely important to me. Therefore, I think it would be wonderful if I am able to complete Origin as my own programme which differs from that (Tribute to Nijinsky).”

The SP which is another of his origins

His SP is to Argentine pianist Raul di Blasio’s Otoñal. Likewise, it is music which had been used by a skater Hanyu admires--Johnny Weir’s FS for the 2004-2006 seasons had been to this piece. 

“The arm positions during spins, the softness of expressions, the way to pick up nuances and move to music, landing positions and so on, it was the music of the programme that led me to perform with attention to each of these details.”

Were there other possible choices he considered? 

“No. (He said this decisively). It was a situation in which I made an almost instantaneous decision. I started thinking about various things the instance it was decided I was unable to compete at the World Championships in March, and I had already made up my mind before Continues~with Wings~. To skate to my favourite pieces of music. Just that, after I made the decision, I thought “I must seek permission from both of them” (laughs). Also, as the reason for choosing this programme was just my feelings that “Because I like it I want to do it”, I considered with my whole being as to what meaning these two programmes hold, and how I can complete them as my own programmes while also respecting (the skaters and their programmes).”

The ice show and 24H TV programme that reflected his “roots”

At the ice show he personally produced for the first time, Continues~, skaters who had connections with Hanyu were gathered. 

“I think Continues~ was a show that reflected my “roots”. As there was the injury to my right ankle, although I was not able to show a proper skate, I really feel that with the performances of the great skaters who agreed to grace the show, it became a wonderful show. Also, I respect them and they also gave me their respect. The receiving and acceptance of those thoughts and feelings have become one of the driving forces for me to continue to work hard from this point onward.”

The “roots” that were reflected in the ice show. Are these the same as the “origins” of his new programmes?

“For me “origins” and “roots” are slightly different, roots have the image akin to  “scenes of my own heart, my own thoughts”. Receiving various influences from different people, leading to the me that is here right now, that is something I feel very much recently...I cannot be cognizant of the existence known as myself without the gaze of other people. It was a show that made me feel such things and view the existence known as myself objectively.”

About 4 months after that, for the TV programme 24H TV 41 Love Saves the World~Person Who Changes Lives~ which was broadcast in August, he revisited the sewing classroom in Narahamachi, Fukushima, which he had visited 3 years ago, to report back on winning the Olympic gold medal.

“If I was not personally in the position of a victim of the Great East Japan Earthquake, perhaps they would not be able to draw close to me from their hearts. And, perhaps they would not watch my performances with their hearts drawn to my performances to this degree. Therefore, from now on also I must properly accept that I was affected by the earthquake and tsunami in Sendai, Miyagi and live on properly. Although the experience of the earthquake and tsunami was really painful, precisely because I experienced that, I want to do the things I can do, this is what I thought anew.”

Also in the same TV programme, he collaborated with Disney on Ice at the place of his starting point, Ice Rink Sendai, where he had begun skating at the age of four.

“Although it would have been nice if I could have also performed together with Pooh-san, but even Pooh-san has circumstances...(wry smile) It seems that without the forest Pooh-san will not come.(laughs)”

Becoming greedy and enjoying life more

On changes to his state of mind after the PyeongChang Winter Olympics, Hanyu describes it as such:

“Until now there has been tremendous pressure to “do my own skating”, “meet expectations”, “produce results”...But right now all that is disappearing, from now on perhaps it is alright to skate for myself, this is what I am thinking. The reason I began skating was because it was enjoyable. Together with this emotion, looking back at the difficult path I have walked until now, perhaps it can be described as repaying myself or they have become the emotion of wanting to do something that would be like a personal reward for myself.”

After the Olympics, he had also declared his intention to challenge the 4A.

“Within myself there is the desire of wanting to jump it this season. When I was in the lower grades of elementary school, I would spend 45 minutes of 1 hour practice sessions on practicing the axel. (laughs) The sense of achievement when I landed the axel is one of the key reasons I came to love skating.” 

Then, are there perhaps other things he wants to do outside of skating?

“...From now on I think I will be more greedy and I will go and do various things. Before the PyeongChang Winter Olympics, I cut away various things, my consideration was to make everything work for the sake of success at the Olympics. Right now my mindset is becoming slightly different from that time. Of course even from now on before competitions, or in order to land the 4A I think there will be various things I will cut away, but now I think I want to properly receive this happiness, and in addition to that also complete my own happiness.”

In specific terms how does the happiness he pictures look like?

“Playing video games, listening to music...and also earphones. (laughs) Right now I am playing games such as Fire Emblem, and Power Pros. I also want to play Super Smash Bros. ...and, though this has become about personal matters (laughs), I think it would be wonderful if I can accept completely the thoughts of many different people in the form of their “congratulations” and connect it to my own happiness.”

Hanyu who smiled while describing the leisure activities that young men of his generation enjoy as a matter of course as something that is “greedy”. With consecutive Olympic victories, for him who has become the best skater in the world in both name and fact, this time he will skate “for himself” to the music of his favourite skaters.

Original article by editorial team of Kiss & Cry, published in  KISS & CRY 氷上の美しき勇者たち　 2018-2019シーズン開幕号～Road to GOLD!!!

[izayukam]

Daisuke Takahashi [An Exclusive Interview]   “My Peak is Yet to Come”

https://number.bunshun.jp/articles/-/839101 The article translated from: Bunshun NUMBER Vol. 970 Jan. 17, 2019 Gasping for air harshly, the eyes shut tight in agony,

yet there was an unmistakable smile on his face.

It was about half a year since the announcement of his return to compete.

The former champion came back to the Japan Nationals that he set as his goal. He said, “I will not retire yet”, while declining the World Championships

to represent the nation. He now tells the story behind those decisions and

about the change of his feelings toward skating ------.

Text by Takaomi Matsubara Photos by Kosuke Mae / Asami Enomoto

The new year has started, and he appeared with a freshly cropped hair style and a smile.

“I took a break for about ten days after the Nationals and indulged in heavy eating and drinking on all those days, but I returned to the ice rink now. I have started practicing”

He announced his return to compete last July. While an unusual kind of challenge by the 32-year-old after four years of retirement got attention by many, he proceeded step by step competing in the regional and then the sectional competition and reached to attend the National Championships last December for the first time in five years. He realized his initial goal at the time of announcement of his return to competitions, that is, making it to perform his Free Skating in the final group, and beyond that, he even got the overall result of winning the second place.

After the competition he revealed that he declined the offer to be selected to represent Japan in the World Championships, but also, he told the press he was “not planning to retire yet”.

It is about half a month since then. His expression shows that he is feeling good and fulfilled in the way as he has been all through the time since his return. It looks like symbolizing this season itself.

“Nothing has been wasted. Now I feel that all that happened were connected.”

Reflected the past, Takahashi touched on his decision not going to the Worlds as a start.

“When I thankfully got offered that they would select me as a representative if I go get the Minimum Score, I thought, “that’s not it”. Going to the World Championships is to represent Japan and one must feel the responsibility to match that, and yet, I got no time for such preparedness. I did not return to go to the Worlds or to compete in the world. I returned to get back my own skating, so my feeling doesn’t chime in with it. Something feels wrong, perhaps, like lack of resolution. If, say, this was next year, or if I were doing it for about two years already and could feel familiar to the world level, then I might have been able to tell myself “heck, they (other skaters) simply couldn’t go above me” though. Moreover, a chance to go to the World Championships held in Japan is a rare opportunity. That experience is huge. Therefore, I thought it must go to the young ones. Keiji (Tanaka) is not all that young but he is, to me. (LOL)”

Although he was placed second in the Nationals, he made a lot of mistakes in jumps in his Free Skating and Takahashi himself called it “pathetic”. If he could skate that FS well and felt satisfied with his performance, would it be possible that he chose not to decline the Worlds?

He instantly replied. “No. I would think I did it by dumb luck. If I got asked whether I can do the same in the Worlds I don’t think I would feel confident. So I think I still would choose not to go.”

The Worlds 2019 will be taken place at Saitama Super Arena. That is the same venue the Worlds 2014 were held, which Takahashi had to decline. Did he not feel driven by a desire to settle the score with the regret he had last time around? “I sure thought of it. But probably that’s just my ego.”  All through the time from the press conference to announce his comeback until the National Championships, Takahashi kept making mention of the younger generation or the development of the sport. And often, this attitude stood out more than his focus on his own matters in competing. Athletes generally place the “I” first before the other things and that is an accepted trait.

 Takahashi himself, while showing the strong feelings against loosing, has been an athlete very thoughtful and caring to the people around him from the very beginning of his career, but even with such a nature considered, those words and acts of his left a conspicuous impression.

“If I had kept competing, I might feel like that. But I left once. Ichiro (Baseball) and Kazu (Kazuyoshi Miura of Soccer) both never left the field. Mr. Funaki (Kazuyoshi Funaki of Ski Jump) as well. I think continuing is very hard and people like them are just fine to put their “I” first. On the other hand, I ran away, or I lost confidence and left and then returned. And when I was away, I was in a place to support and cheer them all. It’s hard to explain, though.”

He expressed his earlier decision to retire that he “ran away”.

“I could not reach my goal, could not get a medal in the (Sochi) Olympics, then I could not go on until the Worlds even I got selected to, I failed to sort things out and rewire myself; I would put it that I gave it up and fled, in a way. I had an issue with my leg. But I could force myself to go to that competition if I really try hard enough. So, I mostly felt that I ran away.”

At that time, his coach, Mrs. Utako Nagamitsu recommended to decline the Worlds as well.

“That made me feel relieved. I could feel much easier. Even though (she) normally would be the one to say, “you might as well go, you never know what will happen”, she just said, “sounds good” at that time. She had been watching how things going throughout the time. For those two years until Sochi, things are not working out well. It was like I kept pressing all the wrong buttons.”

And yet, he was expected to get results as a representative of Japan. He was counted on. It must be quite some weight he had on his shoulders as much as his sense of responsibility.

“I had fun feeling anticipating I could move ahead on and on even at age of 32”

With a sense of bitterness Takahashi left his competing life on October ’14. And after some period studying in New York, he expanded his stage of activities. Along with performing in ice shows he worked as a TV reporter. Those hours and days precipitated at the bottom of his heart like lees.

“While I was doing different things that had been thankfully offered to me, I could not help feeling that I was doing what  I was not cut out for. I already knew that I was not good at talking but I truly realized that I was a failure. I thought it’s not just for me.”

Or he felt that:

“I hated my face more and more. I don’t look lively. I don’t like this face. That feeling got stronger as time went by.”

But this period was not just filled with what made him unhappy. In addition to the conventional ice shows, Takahashi performed in a dance show “LOVE ON THE FLOOR” and a collaboration of Kabuki and figure skating, “Hyoen”. 

“As I took part in those shows I realized that I liked a place to do a performance and that feeling grew stronger. And even through the work of a TV reporter I feel uncomfortable, I had some opportunities to hear some stories from artists working in different fields. They were shining brightly, I could really sense their joy of being able to do what they love to do, and at the same time, I thought I wanted to be like that myself.”

And he reached to this one thought.

“The tool for me to shine is figure skating.”

The time of four years had him rediscover skating.

The final push to the decision was the Japan Nationals at the end of year 2017.

“When I saw the official practices, or while I sit in the commentator’s seat looking across at the skaters and coaches, I thought, ‘I want to be on that other side’.”

Many were paying attention to who would win the tickets to Pyeongchang Olympics, but there are some skaters who left Takahashi’s heart strong impressions: Koshin Yamada and Sota Yamamoto. Yamada once retired from competing after he graduated Kansai University. He returned to the sport while working at the Mitsui Sumitomo Bank. The other skater, Yamamoto, managed to come back to the Nationals after two times of major injuries.

“Koshin left figure skating once but returned as a member of working society and did a good performance and gave a fist pumping of joy at the end. Sota was not back to his real level with injuries but he performed with deep feelings. The performances by those two hit me in my mind and made me realize that there are many ways to compete. Even if it is hard to be a few of the top, there are skaters who continue for the love of competing, performing in front of people or simply for the love of skating.” And he realized:

“Up until then, I thought that I should not be competing if I could not feel that I am capable to win. But that is not the only way to compete.”

It may be the Nationals that gave him the direct impact. But what made him to regain the feeling for this sport once lost is the four years of different experiences he had been through.

Once he decided to return to the sport and came back to the ice rink as a competitor, what Takahashi got is the feeling of pure joy. “I put the skating on the back burner for four years until I returned and there are lot of things I can no longer do, but when I started to practice then I got, like, ’oh, I can do this, or that, and hey, I can do this too!’ I almost feel like a new beginner with a mindset of one. It is true that I felt some pressure, a different kind from the one before. If I would turn out to compete miserably then people might say ‘oh Daisuke Takahashi is actually not that good after all.’ But rather than that fear, as one by one I added what I could do on the list, I had stronger feeling of anticipating I could move ahead on and on even at age of 32.”

“I finally got to be able to say, ‘I love skating’.”

Soon, he was feeling more than just “back” on the ice. 

“I was away from skating since I got tired of it, but after all, what I feel most confident in me is skating. Now I face it squarely, feeling that I want to truly devote myself to skating, and that I love to do performing. I found myself determined as much as considering myself competing for a lifetime even after I eventually retire from attending competitions. So, I thought I am making “a new start”.

And that is not all.

“I finally got to be able to say, ‘I love skating’.”

As far as I remember, he never said “I love skating” before his retirement in 2014. Takahashi nodded.

“No. I think I didn’t say that. I didn’t know myself if I like it or hate it. It was rather something what I had to do. I certainly liked it very much at the beginning, but I guess I lost that somewhere along the line. Because I was offered to do many different things after the retirement, I could find that I like skating and I could say that. That was a discovery as well.”

And he smiled.

“I had opportunities getting my photos taken before my return, but after coming back to skating the pictures of me look better, or they impress myself that I got a good face now. That’s another way I realized that I liked skating. My love of skating might have finally grown in my mind after I came back.”

He once again spoke clearly regarding his word that he would “not going to retire yet”, the statement he gave at the same time he announced his declination of the Worlds.

“Yes. I will continue to be a competitive skater”

Asked what his goal is in the next season, he answered:

“I have no thoughts. (In the press conference for comeback announcement last year) I said that going to the Nationals was my goal just because I got asked. I had general goals of building up my skating, showing my best performances whenever I am in front of audiences and to make those happen, I wanted to practice as hard as one would for going back to compete. I really haven’t thought about any specific target. I will find one. (LOL)”

In an event in central Tokyo he attended on January 12, he shared that he is planning to have a quad in each of his two programs, Short and Free, and challenging a quad Salchow is also a possibility in addition to quad toe loop, but he doesn’t have any certain scores or results in mind. He is just sure about one thing, though.

“Now I am thankful for the environment that allows me to concentrate on skating and my days are so fulfilling. If you ask me what my motivation is, I really don’t know the answer. I have no specific goal, but I am simply feeling well motivated regardless, I guess.”

A moment of silence, then he started.

“For the last two years before Sochi, I could not imagine that I would improve myself. I only had a fear that my peak was over. I had no confidence as I was wondering when my end would come. But I returned to compete now, although my quad jump before the injury (on his knee in 2008) is some other thing, I am sure that my current jump is better than the jump I was doing after the surgery. I was watching the video the other day and thought, ‘Oh, I’m good’ (LOL). They are higher, for the axel and generally all the others. My spins are terrible, but my skating quality is better than how I was in the past. Regarding my expression, I may not be able to do like when I was young, but I may have something I only can do now. I feel that I am getting matured in a good way. In that sense, perhaps my peak is yet to come. Therefore, I want to move ahead fully committed.”

He stopped, and he smiled as if he suddenly realized something.

“Oh, I see. That’s the motivation I got.”

-------------------------------------------------------

First published: January 17, 2019, The Web article posted: May 1, 2019

Translated by: izayukam

[Photo by Asami Enomoto]

[Photo by Kosuke Mae]

[asterinjapan]

the end of a journey

And that wraps up my collection posts for this trip. How time has flown by…

As always, I like to do a final post in which I look back on my travelling, before I close this blog until my next trip. I am going to do that this time as well, but my reflections on Okinawa will be slightly different than expected, as in the early morning of October 31, the main buildings of Shuri Castle were destroyed in a fire. Thankfully there were no human casualties, but the loss of the castle cuts deep for Okinawa, and it would feel odd to just cheerily babble about visiting the castle without touching upon what happened a mere 4 weeks later (to the day, I now realize).

I uh, might have postponed this entry so that I could pretend I didn’t have to close the chapter of this trip, haha. But with my photo album done, all that’s left is my final words.

Now without further ado, the final post for Japan 2019!

  One would think that after eight previous trips, another flight to Japan would feel like routine, but the start was already different since I needed a domestic flight transfer. However, being able to see the islands of Okinawa from the plane awed me, and definitely set the tone for my enjoyment of the main island. I arrived with fairly high expectations, and I got to say that Okinawa more than delivered. Although I confess it was slightly odd to stay along the Kokusaidori main street, as it’s so touristic and feels like a shopping street in Tokyo, but it still has its own Okinawan flavor. And I was so close to the ocean! I couldn’t believe how quickly I reached the shores, and even with a highway road above my head, it was great to trail through the water on my day of arrival.

Visiting Shuri Castle was on the top of my wish list, so I did that right on my first full day. Reading about the beautiful reconstructions and seeing the pictures definitely didn’t hold up to the real thing, and I could only admire the love and dedication that had gone into reconstructing this centuries old castle. It felt so completely different from the other Japanese castles, which it of course is, but I hadn’t expected to feel that so acutely. You could definitely tell how proud the people here were of the castle, and I can only hope that those whose livelihoods depended on the castle can get by now. It still feels surreal to think that the buildings are no longer there. There are logistical problems for rebuilding, although I don’t doubt they will get there in the end. It burnt down before, and rose from the most terrible of ashes. It will likely take decades, but considering how big a symbol this place is, there will definitely be something new. I do confess I kind of skipped war memorials during this trip to Okinawa, but the scars of the Battle of Okinawa was visible everywhere; and yet it was also noticeable how the people have come back from it. I can only hope their spirit will continue from hereon too and that this symbol will rise again.

Of course, I had no idea while I was there what would happen four weeks later, but I’m glad in retrospect that I took my time and uh, took as many pictures as I did. Nearby Tamaudun Mausoleum impressed me deeply as well, although I must confess that was due to the full package: the castle and the history and the mausoleum together, plus the pathway leading up to the building was short but absolutely lovely.

After that, I saw so many sights. I climbed the mountain to find Nakagukusu castle, where I had a blast feeling like I was in some weird limbo between a gothic European castle in ruins with crows flying by and, well, a subtropical island, with beautiful blue seas on both sides. Weirdly, it really looked like only the castle was clouded that day, as the sun was shining on both sea sides, but it just added to the atmosphere.

I went from super touristic but cheerful Okinawa World with its gorgeous caves to the genuine and wonderful museum, teaching me so much more about the islands, explored gorgeous gardens, and to top it all off, I got to spend a day on Tokashiki island, which really was the icing on an already delicious cake. The weather was lovelier than I could have even hoped for, the views were amazing, and I was honestly jealous of myself while I was there. This really was the picture perfect ‘tropical holidays’ right from the travel brochure, and although I think I’d get bored of it if I were to spend a whole week just chilling on the beach, it was an amazing way to end my week down south. Not to mention the submarine ride! I’m really glad I was tenacious and eventually lucked out and got on, because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It’s one thing to see coral reefs on tv or in an aquarium, but seeing them in the wild is awe inspiring. Luckily the Kerama Islands (which Tokashiki is the biggest of) are a national park and under protection, and I can only hope that we can all protect amazing sights like these all around the globe.

 After a week of exploring something completely new, it was time to return to an old friend: Fukuoka, which I had stayed in for a week back in 2015. I had fond memories of staying there, and this week didn’t disappoint. The flight was so relaxed I would almost say I got rid of my fear of flying (not entirely, but it definitely diminished from here on), and then it was time to explore the places I had missed out on before! It was my first time seeing a typical conical and active volcano, and Sakurajima definitely didn’t disappoint. Karatsu had caught my eye in recent years, and I’m so happy I went there, because I had a delightful day and I was thoroughly charmed by this city. Beppu was highly touristic, but I had a good time exploring the hells anyway, and I’m easily amused, so getting to say ‘I went to hells and back’ won’t get old soon. The typhoon made me stay in Fukuoka for a day since I didn’t want to risk getting stranded, but I don’t regret it one bit as I finally got to see Kushida shrine in the sun and had a blast in Canal City. It was safe enough to go to Yoshinogari Historical Park next, and wow, there was so much to see and do that I definitely have to go back here sometime. And hey, I got to be crafty and made a mirror! I’m still unreasonably proud.

With the weather continuing to smile down on me, I hit Okayama next, where I finally got to dress up as a princess in the castle (I’m easily pleased) and saw the sights we sadly had to miss out on last year due to floods. Gorgeous sights and castles greeted me as I finally got to see more of Shikoku, and although I am definitely a bit weary of temples now (sorry, Onomichi), the views over the Inland Sea continue to impress. The weather was exceedingly kind to me and gave me blue skies over all castles, and so I happily checked off number 7 on the list of 12 original castle towers still remaining. Past the halfway point! I do love castles, haha.

My luck hadn’t run out yet as on my final day in Okayama, KOKIA was performing in Osaka. It was just an hour away from Okayama, the closest I was to Osaka the entire trip, so that left enough time to visit Universal Studios beforehand. And of course, seeing KOKIA live is always a magical experience (which is a nice bridge from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter I guess, haha). I’ve said it before, but even live recordings and DVDs can’t compare to the live experience, and I feel so privileged and blessed that this is my seventh time (!) getting to see her live. And this was my third time in a row getting to meet her for an autograph! I might get spoiled at this rate, haha. It was wonderful to hear songs from all those years ago as well as some newer favorites.

And although I hadn’t been looking forward to the long trip to Tokyo, this was in fact a very relaxed experience. I had so much leg space that my suitcase in front of me was no big bother, and the seats next to me stayed empty anyway. Getting back to Tokyo, and more specifically Ikebukuro, felt like coming home again, and I enjoyed soaking into the familiar sights (and uh, shopping, I have to admit).

This was the only part of my trip where I actually noticed the typhoons that had blown over or were on their way. Japan has taken quite the battering this year, with typhoons forming very late into the season, being more powerful than ever, with Hagibis being the tragic record. It had given me quite the scares, but all it really meant for me was a few windy days, two days of rain on 4 weeks total, and making it risky to leave Tokyo for the mountainous areas. The people here have suffered far more. I can only hope they recover well from this natural violence and that they can catch a break for a while.

 Anyway, you can easily dump me in Tokyo for months on end and I will still have a great time. This city is so massive and there are plenty of places worth a second (or third, or ninth) visit, so it’s hard to imagine I’d ever get bored here. And since many of the series and games I like hail from Japan, I definitely took the chance to stock up on merchandise and go to cafés to let out my inner fangirl. Look, I grew up on Pokémon, I’m not gonna ignore the chance to have dinner with Pikachu. Rainy days aren’t so bad if you get to spend them in a museum so big that even a full day is barely enough to see everything, and I got to spend some extra days with my friend on top of it.

I have to admit I felt a bit bad about not using my JR pass much in that last week except for the Yamanote line, but that in no way diminished how much fun I had, and I confess to having cried a couple of times in my final days in Tokyo due to my impending return home. Of course, going on holidays is different from living somewhere, but I still feel like a piece of me was left behind in Japan way back in 2010, and so it hurts to part every time. That might sound dramatic, but that metaphor does explain why I feel so strongly about it.

 The flight back gave me one last treat with the Fuji showing up through the clouds, marking the first time in all those flights when I actually got to see it from the plane. Sadly the picture I took on my phone isn’t super crisp, but it’s the best I could do at the moment, and really, there’s something about that mountain you can’t quite catch on camera anyway. The flight was calm and hardly affected my nerves, and though I didn’t sleep much, I managed to get home safe and sound without even falling asleep on the train or bus.

Of course, the jetlag was waiting for me with a big ol’ hammer, and it took a while for me to recover. A bit longer than expected, actually, although I suspect part of that was caused by just how much I’ve seen and done over those past 4 weeks. Look at how long this entry is getting, and I barely even touched on some days and impressions! I can’t believe I got to check off my entire list of places to visit until I got to Tokyo. I hadn’t thought my body could handle it, but I was pleasantly surprised, and I definitely feel in a better condition than ever. Seeing all these wonderful sights for sure invigorated me, so I don’t doubt it helped, but the relative ease with which I climbed those mountains also surprised me. Not that I’m complaining!

And that brings me back home. I’ve had two weeks to recover now, and I think my body has adjusted to being back in the Netherlands again. I’ve collected all my reports from this blog (and have apparently done NaNoWRiMo writing challenge a month early, as I surpassed 50,000 words written in a month, oops), my photos have been sorted out, I’ve put together a photo book for the collection, and… well, all that’s left is closing off this blog until the next trip. That won’t be this year anymore, haha, no more last-minute Christmas trips to Tokyo! Although I won’t deny it’s tempting, but I’d rather take the time to plan out my trip for next time.

I don’t know when that will be. Part of me really wants to see the cherry blossoms, but it’s a busy season, so I should be looking into flights and hotels already if I am set on doing so next year. Summer 2020 is out, though. I’d rather avoid the height of summer in Japan if at all possible, and well, with the Olympics and Paralympics next year, I think Japan really doesn’t need any more tourists in the mix, haha. So, who knows! I’ll have to wait and see where next year takes me, although I’d love to return to Japan as soon as possible. I still haven’t visited Hokkaido, after all, and I did plan out a lot of day trips from Tokyo that I didn’t get to do now.

 I keep saying it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be done with Japan. Despite hardships, I am so happy I decided to study its language and culture, over a decade ago now. It really broadened my horizons, allowed me to meet new people, and introduced me to an immensely interesting country. Although I’m far from fluent (I really need to pick up my study books and at least increase my vocabulary, yikes), it still really helped finding my way here and getting in touch with people. Of course, I saw everything through a tourist’s eye, but I do my best to read up on the places I visit and get a better sense of the culture and history through first hand experience. Speaking the language to a degree definitely helps with that.  

And so, I will now close this blog again until my next trip, which hopefully won’t take too long. Whether it’ll be a short hop over to Tokyo or a longer cross-country travel remains to be seen, but I can’t wait to find out!

Thank you for sticking with this blog and for reading all that in case you made it here, and see you soon!

[tw-koreanhistory]

The mother flung her arms around the son she had lost while fleeing from the fighting 67 years ago. “Sang-chol!” she cried, intoning the name of the boy she had missed for decades.

During the 21st reunion for families divided by the Korean War, which was held at Mt. Kumgang, in North Korea, on Aug. 20, 92-year-old Lee Geum-seom, who lives in South Korea, sobbed as she stroked the face of her 71-year-old son Ri Sang-chol, who lives in North Korea. Geum-seom’s family had been fleeing from the horrors of the war when she was separated from her husband and her four-year-old son.

“Mom, this is what Dad looked like, Sang-chol said, showing Geum-seom a picture of her husband, taken before he passed away. Sang-chol couldn’t stop the tears flowing from his eyes in apparent pity for the tragic lives of his father and mother, who had been divided, just like the Korean Peninsula itself.

“How many kids do you have?” the nonagenarian asked, rattling off a series of questions to satisfy the maternal curiosity she had carried around her entire life. Sitting there hand in hand, they shared their stories. But pitiless time passed by in the blink of an eye.

On Monday, which was the first day of the event, the South Korean participants comprising 197 people, representing 89 families, arrived at Mt. Kumkang. South Korean Han Shin-ja, a 99-year-old woman on the verge of her 100th birthday, was reunited with the daughters she had left behind in the North: 72-year-old Kim Gyong-sil and 71-year-old Kim Gyong-yong. When their mother approached, the North Korean sisters greeted her with a deep bow and burst into tears. At a loss for words, Shin-ja moaned and managed to say, “Goodness gracious!”

Liberated from Japan only to be divided by civil war

When Han fled during the war, she had only been able to take her youngest daughter, a newborn. She had left her older daughters, who were 4 and 5 years old at the time, in the care of her parents and aunt, thinking she would return in a few months. Guilt at the thought that she had orphaned her own children robbed her of sleep for countless nights. The afflictions of old age have left her hard of hearing for more than a decade now, and the cataracts in her eyes have dimmed her vision. Even so, she instantly recognized the faces and voices of her daughters.

South Korean Kim Hye-ja, 76, had already been talking with her North Korean younger brother Kim Eun-ha, 75, for five minutes when she finally broke down and cried. “It’s really you!”

After Korea was liberated from Japan’s colonial occupation, Hye-ja had followed their father to South Korea while Eun-ha had joined their mother at her parents’ house. When the war broke out, their separation became permanent. Eun-ha took out a photograph of their late mother and showed it to his sister. “That’s Mom! I feel so bad for Dad!”

When KBS was broadcasting a live show designed to reunite the divided families in 1983, Hye-ja showed up holding a sign in an attempt to find her family members. “It’s been 73 years now, since we were separated at liberation. You know, this is so great. Even when I was on my way, I was worried that it wouldn’t be you, but here you are!”

Lee Geum-seom, 92, who lives in South Korea, embraces her son Ri Sang-chol, 71, who lives in North Korea, after seeing him for the first time in 67 years at the 21st reunion for divided Korean families on Aug. 20 at the Mt. Kumgang meeting hall. (joint photo pool)

Blood runs deep

South Korean Kim Byeong-o, 88, and North Korean Kim Sun-ok, 81, who were separated while on their way to school with their knapsacks, were reunited after finishing respective careers as a school principal and a medical doctor. “After we were selected for the reunions, I couldn’t sleep a wink,” said Byeong-o, the older brother.

“Byeong-o, this is a photograph from when I was going to medical school. I’m a graduate of Pyongyang Medical University, and that’s brought me a ton of respect in Pyongyang. They even pay my gas bill each month. Sun-ok went on and on without a pause, as if she were attempting to make up for more than 65 years apart.

“It’s such an honor to hear that my little sister turned out so well. I was a high school teacher for thirty years and retired over a decade ago as a school principal,” Byeong-o said. The whole time they were looking at each other, the siblings never stopped smiling.

“There’s no hiding blood relations. You and I look just like peas in a pod. It would be so great if our country were reunited, Byeong-o. After unification, I’d be happy if we could just have a single minute to be together.”

As soon as North Korean Cho Jeong-il, 87, saw his South Korean younger brother Cho Jeong-hwan, 68, he began to weep. Jeong-il said he was “just glad to find out his little brother is still alive.”

Jeong-hwan hadn’t dared to request a reunion with his older brother. “Because my family members crossed the border into South Korea, I was worried that Jeong-il might run into trouble if we tried to find him,” he explained.

The little brother who was born the year the war broke out and whose name had been chosen by Jeong-il pulled out a family portrait. The photo was wrapped in thick plastic to prevent it from fading over the years.

“Look at the family resemblance! I look just like Dad,” Cho said, turning the photograph this way and that.

The first day of the 21st reunion for divided Korean families took place on Aug. 20 at North Korea’s Mt. Kumkang meeting hall. The above photo shows South Korean Cho Hye-do, 86, embrace her older sister from North Korea Cho Sun-do, 89. (joint photo pool)    

During the reunions on Monday, family members from South and North Korea looked at photos and reflected on the past as they sought to find traces of their childhood in each other. When South Korean Kim Dal-in, 92, told his North Korean younger sister Kim Yu-deok, 85, that she had “gotten old,” Yu-deok’s eyes filled with tears. “The reason I lived this long was to see you, Dal-in,” she said.

South Korean Mun Hyeon-suk, 91, saw traces of his mother in his two North Korean little sisters. “When did you get so old? The child in you is mostly gone, now. Your eyes used to be so big, you know. You really looked like Mom,” Mun said.

“My beautiful sister has aged so much,” said 86-year-old Cho Hye-do with a laugh when he was reunited with his North Korean older sister Cho Sun-do. Hye-do went on: “Even so, I recognized you right away. You look the same as me.”

The following are scraps from other conversations: “I’m not sure if I’m awake or asleep.” “I’m so nervous that my leg is trembling.” “I postponed my daughter’s wedding to be here.”

At 8:35 am, the South Korean family members got aboard more than twenty buses, which took them to Mt. Kumgang over the East Sea overland route. After that, they participated in a group reunion and a welcome dinner, which was hosted by North Korea. Over dinner, when an elderly South Korean woman tried to lift her chopsticks with trembling fingers, her North Korean daughter deftly fed her a piece of fried chicken. Elsewhere in the room, brothers clinked glasses filed with Taedonggang Beer.

On Aug. 21, individual reunions will be held from 10 am to 1 pm at the Outer Kumgang Hotel.

Lee Geum-seom, 92, who lives in South Korea, embraces her son Ri Sang-chol, 71, who lives in North Korea, after seeing him for the first time in 67 years at the 21st reunion for divided Korean families on Aug. 20 at the Mt. Kumgang meeting hall. (joint photo pool)    

By Noh Ji-won, staff reporter

Please direct comments or questions to [english@hani.co.kr]

via http://english.hani.co.kr/arti/english_edition/e_northkorea/858592.html

[zee-cupcakes-personal-blog]

Present Mic x Reader: Major Key 2

Backlash 1 / Repeat 2 / Refrain 3 / Skip Back 4 / Pause 5 / Caesura 6 /Intermission /

(Reach Out) Major Key 1 / (Major Key 2)/ Encore (Coming Soon)

(Stay Away) Minor Key 1/ Minor Key 1 (Coming Soon)/ Aftershow (Coming Soon)

    You shot Hizashi a text when you got home. It was nearly four-thirty and you had to be at work at five for Saturday rush hour. Probably the best shift as far as wages went- but a shift that was in no way pain-less… Hm. You’d have to call your job and let them know you could be a few minutes late… But you couldn’t put your phone down from texting Hizashi.

      From: Hizashi

“Babe.”

“Sweety.”

“Honey.”

“Darling.”

“Apple of my eye.”

“Forget about going home tonight, just come straight over.”

“I’m making up for last night!”

       You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t curious—but that meant you had to pack things- clothing. Your toothbrush, any facial cosmetics you could carry… Your mind wandered, pushing away things you’d need to pick up discreetly as you ambled up the stairs to your apartment.

      How late was the drug store open on a Saturday? You couldn’t remember, but maybe it would be wise to-

      You paused at your door.

      It was open.

     Or, rather, it was unlocked. You could tell by the way the keyhole was turned. Could it have been possible you had… Just forgotten? No. You remember very distinctly locking the door before you left… And the only other people who had extra keys were your mother and Hizashi himself.

      To: Hizashi

“Hey, you wouldn’t have happened to have stopped by my place would you?”

      From: Hizashi

“What? No… Y?”

 Ooooh this was bad.

      Without thinking, or responding you ran through the open door and looked around.

      “Oh hey!” a voice chirped from your counter- he had long black hair and a slightly babyish face. “I was wonderin’ when you’d show up!”

    Your years of vigilante experience have taught you that the typical questions a normal person would have asked in that moment were useless. You spent no time at all before you carefully accessed the situation and threw a heavy phone-book from beside your door at the stranger.

      The stranger’s entire body- clothing and all- shifted and bent around the book in a goldish rush. “Okay, actions speak louder than words! I like that!”

      “Get out of my apartment!” you demanded the person in your room. Who was he? Another vigilante? A villain? A hero? No he couldn’t have been a hero… And what’s worse is that his Japanese was… Not bad, per se, but it was definitely not his first language.

    “Then let’s take this outside.”

      You felt the force of your legs slip out from underneath you as a rush of heavy liquid pushed you off your feet and back out onto the apartment walkway; all the way back against the rails where the amorphous blob pinned you before a decidedly human face formed from it.

      “Hi. You are coming with me and we’re going to have a niiiice little chat and-“

      You punched it. You punched the liquid man right in the face.

      “SON OF A—“

      You grabbed what little bit of his nose you could and jerked his head to the side- watching as his face moved seamlessly across the expanse of his body(?). You tried to make sense of the strange quirk this man had. It appeared he could make his body turn into this pliable metallic alloy at will.

      As his face shifted away back into the rest of his mass a part of him reached out for your face.

    And then he was human again. Human and incredibly naked.

      “You just walked into an open apartment?” came a slightly condescending voice as a flash of gray pulled you back and away from the rail.

      The sight of Eraserhead standing there both horrified and relieved you.

      “God fucking dam-“ the naked man grumbled, covering himself for some sense of modesty. “Seriously?”

      “It’s over, Alloy. Present Mic, and Endeavor are both on their way.”

      “Oh,you must not know then,” ‘Alloy’ mocked back as you recalled, vaguely, hearing about a relatively unknown American villain slipping through the international waters and making headway in Japan. Apparently he was known for forming himself around victims and controlling them.

      That could have been you.

      If Shota hadn’t shown up…

      “You know you’re helping a-“

      “THE CALVARY HAS ARRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVEEEDDDDD!” came the next voice overpowering voice from a story below from the parking lot which sent you, Eraser, and Alloy flying- Alloy even seemed to vibrate on the surface like water reacting to a rock dropping into it.

      He was weak to high frequency noises… And from the very specific hero choice he was weak to heat as well.

      Gold. Alloy’s quirk was gold.

      When you watched the villain stand from where he sat, slumped on the wall his clothing from earlier formed around him. Erasure must have worn off somehow. “God damn… Hey, Paul McCartney WANNA BE; watch where you’re aiming that thing!”

      “Go,” Eraserhead said quietly from beside you. “Get away from him; he’s after you.”

      It wasn’t something you were willing to debate; and in the end you probably guessed he knew that if you helped and Endeavor showed up—you’d be put up for your crimes of vigilantism for sure. Without thinking twice you followed up on Eraserhead’s command and ran down the walkway to the stairs- you weren’t about to use Backlash to jump to the lower level- not when you could still need it.

      “Hey! Come back here!” you heard Alloy holler after you- reaching out with an extended golden arm. His quirk must have worked like pliabody as well!

      Surely, though, you thought Eraserhead would be able to stop him- but he didn’t. Not with Erasure at least… But no; Shota steps between you and the man made from gold and you can’t help but stop and look on in morbid, complacent horror.

      The rest of Alloy caught up to his arm and he slowly morphed around Eraserhead- tightening and forming around his clothing- leaving the majority of your new friend covered in a liquid yellow sheen… And then he ran at you.

      “C’mon, come on!” came a voice from beside you as you were jerked down the stairs- Hizashi had apparently run up the stairs himself and hopped the rail on the last few as you descended with him into the parking lot.

      Alloy, however, now coupled with Aizawa- jumped from the second story of your apartment and landed in a little ripple of gold. Eraser’s mouth was exposed, but that was the only extent of Eraser’s body you could see that wasn’t covered in some golden veneer.

      “This is annoying… Seriously? You knew two pro heroes?” Alloy uttered- standing completely still around Eraserhead’s body. “… Eh… You’re not worth the trouble,” he finally said, making Eraserhead take a few steps back.

      “Oh, don’t you DARE,” Hizashi said as he put a hand to his directional speaker.

      “Really?” Alloy questioned mouthlessly. “You think you’re in a position to bargain?” he asked twisting Eraserhead’s neck. “Unless you want to see your friend’s neck break; you’ll take off that speaker.”

      Hizashi stood there, biting his lip before he gave you a furtive glance, then he let out a defiant huff and pushed the speaker over his head, setting it down on the ground.

      “Good little pawn…” His words were satisfied, condescending. “Now… I know you know I can’t fight three pros at once. So I’m afraid I really must dash. Pass along a little message to my darling princess would you?”

      Clearly, you had been out of the loop for months. You had been out of vigilantism for months and- suddenly- you were useless.

      “Ask her if her choice makes her happy.”

 And just like that tendrils of gold slid off and pooled around Eraser’s feet- sinking into the storm drain beneath the pair of them. Eraser, dazed and looking… Rather invaded as police sirens blared.

       For the first time since you first opened your door you got a chance to look around. Hizashi wasn’t just… Hizashi he was present Mic. Directional speaker aside- but he was dressed just as he was that one time you were meeting after the fire. And Eraserhead—Shota, was looking livid as he pushed his goggles up revealing a trickle of blood dripping down into one of his eyes.

     And then… He showed up.

      The De-facto  number one Pro Hero, Endeavor, ran into the parking lot- demanding to know what happened as your world began to twist away- adrenaline finally wearing off as your limbs felt heavy. You acknowledged you probably would have been more composed if it was for the fact you were out of practice… But between that and the sheer amount of Heroes all you could do was just numbly let your body shut-down as you fell into Present Mic’s arms.

        You awoke in white. White everything- white ceiling, white sheets, white hospital gown… Your heartbeat monitor blipped obediently in the distance as you scanned the room. Indeed- you were in a hospital…

      The heroes must have put you here after that fight—oh. Yeah. You had collapsed right after Endeavor barged in.

      And alloy had gotten away.

      You let out a sigh and went to bring your hand to your temples- but found you could not when your wrist was met with a jingling resistance.

 ... Handcuffs…

      You couldn’t tell if it was because they had given you medicine to stop your panicking or because you were too tired and too numb at this point to feel anything more than remorse… But you weren’t freaking out nearly as much as you thought you should be.

    Your heartbeat monitor reflected that and not long afterwards a man in a white coat came running in. “… Ah.” He said plainly. “You’re awake.” Seemingly unperturbed by your tears of grief the man came to your bedside and immediately began passing a finger in front of your hand to make sure you’re responsive.

      “You were involved in a very bad villain attack,” he said. “No physical injuries as far as we can tell, though. Can you tell me your name? Where you live?”

      You blinked, sniffing. You gave him your name, and the address of your apartment complex and seemed satisfied.

      “… Where am I?” you asked. “And… Why do I have…” you moved your wrist against the handcuffs.

      “Fair enough. You’re at a hospital not far from where you live… And you’ve been restrained since you came to the resting room for…” he sighs. “You’re a suspect for vigilantism.”

      Damn it.

      Your free hand came up to hide your eyes as you came to terms with what the heck had just happened. After all this progress you were making- you’d be put away because a villain attacked you. The cosmos had a funny way of making you pay back for what you had taken… But maybe you were just working on borrowed time anyway.

      “Now before you get upset—there’s someone who wants to talk to you. Hopefully this will cheer you up… I can bring him in in a few moments.”

      You poked your head to see the doctor smiling at you. “It’s Yamada. He has a high opinion of you… He was also talking about getting a few other people to talk with you in regards to this mess… Will you see him?”

      How could you possibly say no?

      Hizashi had come in wearing civilian clothing, hair down and tied back as he let out the most satisfied smile to see you awake and well.

      But he was quiet as he pulled up a chair and placed a hand on your arm. “Hey, lover… You okay?” he asked.

      You wouldn’t lie. “… I feel like I could be in a better situation…” you admitted. “But I’m not panicking so…” you shrug. “That’s a plus, I think…” You look at him, he’s nothing but kindness in his expression. “… How long have I been out?”

      “Weeeeeell,” he said with a cringe. “It’s ten thirty now… So… A few hours. The doc says he wants to keep you over-night for observation,” he says. “And… Maybe it’s best if you stay a few hours after that. Just to keep you out of… Holding.”

      Right. That.

      You blinked at him. “… So… How’d that happen?” you asked.

      You watched his expression sour. “The police went into your apartment to gather evidence on Alloy. When they saw your computer and a few of the other things you had in your room they cuffed you.”

      When you wiggled to a sitting position you gave him a look. “… So… Uh… I guess… I guess that’s something I got to figure out, right?” you ask. “They already question you?”

      “They did,” he said. “And I said that if you had been a vigilante- you weren’t a vigilante while we were going out.”

      It wasn’t a total lie, you admitted. Still, the fact Hizashi would lie like that made you wonder if he was lying less for his sake and more for your own

      “So… I guess we’re not going out anymore, are we?” you asked, feeling ashamed.

      “Huh? No. What gave you that impression?” The mood of the room twisted in a matter of moments. Suddenly everything seemed brighter. “The police are reviewing the evidence and then they’re going to pin you for any crimes and fees you have.” Hizashi smiled. “I… Uh. I wasn’t allowed in the room while you were asleep so I did some digging with a friend! A few actually! We think we can get you off the hook for a lot of this.”

      How could he be so happy in a time like this?

      Why were you so happy in a time like this?

      Hizashi reached forward and grabbed your cuffed hand. “We can get through this!” he jeered right before there came a few sturdy knocks on the door.

      “Oh, that must be her,” Hizashi said as he stood from the chair for a moment to answer the door. “Annnnd I was right! Come in come in!” he said, standing out of the way for a young woman in a skirt suit to walk in.

      “Good evening,” she said. Clearly she was stressed but she was trying to be cordial with you. She looked rather foreign- but she spoke Japanese clearly- as if it was something she had spoken for all her life. “My name is Kiyoko. I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but I’m with the American Embassy and I need to ask you a few questions in regard to the attack… Is that alright?”

      You looked at Hizashi from behind her. He gave you a thumbs up. “… Can he stay?”

      “Of course,” Kiyoko said with a sympathetic grin. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable!” Hizashi let out a satisfied snort as he sat on the foot of the bed nest to you.

      “Alright, let’s hear it then.”

      The woman’s smiling face suddenly fell again. “… I’m here to gather and compile information on Alloy. He’s an American leader of an incredibly powerful gang based out of the United States…” She crossed her legs. “… So let’s start by asking; what… Do you know why Alloy targeted you?”

[scifigeneration]

Dear diary: another day in the life on Mars

by Jonathan Clarke

On June 16 Jonathan Clarke is starting a return journey to Mars. Not the real red planet, but a simulated Martian life in the polar desert of Devon Island in the Canadian Arctic.

It’s all part of a project to see what some of the challenges are, should humans one day decide to live on Mars. Jonathan has already spent a total of five months in simulated Martian camps, and he’s detailed some of the events as they happened across 85 Martian days of his most recent experience late last year.

Sol 1 (A Sol is a Martian day)

Our party has “landed” after an eventful two-day drive from NASA’s Ames Research Center, near San Francisco, to the Mars Desert Research Station (MDRS) in Utah. MDRS is a simulated Mars station built and operated by The Mars Society for Mars research and education. The core is the habitat module, a two-deck cylinder eight metres high and eight metres in diameter.

Mars Desert Research Station. MarsSociety

It’s good to be back at MDRS; this is my fourth time here since 2003. Most of our Mars 160 crewmates are already here. We are a diverse crew of experienced expeditioners; all of us have been to MDRS before or taken part in similar expeditions elsewhere. All of us know at least one other person in the crew.

There’s Alex our commander and a French engineer; Claude-Michell, a Canadian engineer; Yusuke, a Japanese architect; Anastasiya, a Russian journalist; and from Australia, Annalea (a writer and artist) and myself (a geologist). Our biologist, Anushree from India, will join us in a few days. We are all supervised by Shannon, the MDRS manager and the Mars 160 principal investigator, who lives just off site.

We spent the first Sol settling into our small cabins and getting to know each other. Everyone is excited. There’s a lot to do in the station before we can start making ready for the simulation.

The Mars 160 expedition is different from many other Mars simulations of the past few years. We are not an isolation experiment, although we have limited contact with the outside world. Our responses to the mission are being monitored by the Institute for Biomedical Problems in Moscow, the world’s leading centre for human factors in space.

Instead we are carrying out real research projects under some of the constraints of an actual Mars surface mission. We aim to better determine the realistic capabilities of future explorers of the planet.

Mars 160 crew on the porch of MDRS. Left to right, Cluade-Michell Laroche (engineer, Canada), Anastasiya Stepanova (journalist, Russia), Shannon Rupert (principal investigator, US), Jonathan Clarke (geologist, Australia), Yusuke Murakami (executive officer, Japan), Anushree Srivastava (biologist, India), Alexandre Mangeot (commander, France), and Annalea Beattier (artist, Australia) Annalie Beattie personal collection

Sol 9

First day of our actual Mars mission simulation (“in sim” for short). From here on, barring emergencies or special circumstances, we operate as far as possible under Mars mission constraints. We only go outside when we have to, and when we do we will have to wear the simulated extravehicular activity (EVA) suits.

Communications with the outside world are limited to asynchronous modes only. This means emails only, no telephone or Skype. From now on we have only shelf stable food – dehydrated, freeze-dried and tinned. Much as we would on a real Mars mission.

We had a quiet day, settling into the routine. Dealing with a fragile communications system and other engineering issues. I suspect real Mars missions will be like this, routine days, constant problem solving.

The weather is warm and sticky. A pack rat has decided it wants to go to Mars. We hear it scrabbling about and sometimes glimpse it in the evenings. Maybe every Mars mission needs a cat?

Crew relaxing and working in the upper deck lounge of MDRS. Jonathan Clarke

Sol 24

Very busy day. Some people I have spoken to in the past seem to think the big issue in a Mars simulation is boredom. They imagine we spend our time staring at each other. Not here!

We work 12-14 hours a day, on actual EVAs, EVA planning or analysis, engineering and station management tasks, report writing, communications, outreach tasks, research, cooking, cleaning and washing up.

So this morning I cooked scrambled eggs, we then went on an EVA (Alexandre, myself and Claude Michell) out to Skyline rim, the prominent ridge north west of here.

It’s too far to walk, except in an emergency, so we rode the quadbikes. These little vehicles are stand-ins for the small non-pressurised rovers that astronauts might use on Mars.

Long-range mobility will be essential there, as the interesting sites may be many kilometres from the landing site and the station. NASA expects astronauts to explore as far as 100km from the landing site. Fortunately we don’t have to go so far.

Riding a quad bike on simulated EVA towards Skyline Rim. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Skyline Rim itself is composed of sandstone deposited where a Cretaceous river entered the sea to form a delta, overlying marine shales. Weathering of the shales has produced a multitude of colours from dark grey through to white and yellow. Gypsum veins are common, forming great sheets of the glassy mineral scattered across the landscape like windscreen glass beside an Australian road.

Simulated EVA near Skyline Rim. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Sol 29

We have a strange relationship with the outside environment. On one hand we are isolated from it, permanently indoors, whether in the station or in our suits. On the other, we are also closely engaged with every change and detail.

We are studying the geological and biological features of our landscape. We are constantly aware of the vagaries of weather such as temperature, wind and rain, as well as the shortening days, and their impact on our day-to-day activities. Looking through the porthole becomes a glimpse into an alien world, almost like living under water.

View out of the main MDRS porthole. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Today Anushree, Annalea and I went on an EVA to an exposure of the gypsum-rich Summerville Formation of Jurassic age. Strata rich in gypsum and other sulphate minerals are common on Mars and indicate deposition by saline surface water. Studying these deposits helps us to understand past surface environments. Gypsum and other salts can also preserve chemical traces, fossils and even dormant microbes.

Similar deposits are being studied by the ongoing Opportunity and Curiosity rover missions on Mars and important targets for future astronauts.

It’s a spectacular site, stacked with thin, reddish-brown and cream beds of mudstone and gypsum exposed in cliffs. In the suits we find we can sample all the different rock types, labelling them and bagging them up for return to the station and further analysis. Annalea supported our EVA with a field drawing of the location from the vehicle. Field drawing is an useful technique for geological field work on Earth, and we want to explore how it might be used on Mars, even with all the digital imaging technology available to us.

Anushree against a background of Jurassic bedded mudstone and gypsum, analogous to many martian sediments. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Sol 52

In the morning went on a geology EVA, aimed at sampling every colour change in the sediments between the station and the top of the ridge behind it. This provides us with a geological section through the so-called Brushy Basin Member of the Jurassic Morrison Formation.

Deposited by ancient rivers, the unit is marked by repeating layers of cream, red, green, white, grey, purple and brown colours. The samples, after preliminary analyses here, will be sent to the University of Arkansas laboratory to determine their mineralogy and chemistry. We expect the colours to reflect changes in the chemistry and mineralogy, important to understanding the local Jurassic geology and also perhaps to understanding similar deposits on Mars.

Sampling multicoloured Jurassic clays behind the station. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Annalea and I did a recorded interview for an Australian journalist. The sound file is 11 megabytes. Routine to send via a normal internet connection, but challenging for us with the bandwidth limits of our internet connection - 500 megabytes per day.

Sol 61

Slept really well. Had a funny dream last night about the crew: we were doing this mission in a seven-berth caravan in a camping ground. Very crowded, very messy, constantly interrupted by visitors, and very muddy!

Today is a day off. These are really important we have found to help us recover and recharge our batteries. We generally have one day off a week. The couple of occasions we have worked through we have ended up really feeling it. Today I did not get up to until 8:30am; a great treat is to read in bed. Nice email from the family today to savour as well.

I read (Ralph A Bagnold’s Libyan Sands: Travel in a Dead World) while others worked on a craft project, making necklaces from the Cretaceous oyster shells on the ridge behind the station. Others played video games.

Today was also Annalea’s birthday. We had pancakes and a party, and Yusuke made two videos for her with surprise comments from us. We had a great time, everybody dressed up (as far as we were able) and we decorated the station for the occasion.

Annalea’s party. Annalie Beattie personal collection

Sol 76

Slept very well last night. Woken up at four by the rat trap going off and rattling around. We had caught another pack rat, the fourth to date, whose presence was suspected but not observed. We took it on an EVA later in the day and released him near some sand dunes with lots of cover.

Alex and I did the EVA: we went on one of the two-seat electric rovers, parking it at the base of North Ridge, a prominent hill north of the station. I’ve never been up this ridge before, and it was very steep. The views from the top were spectacular. Alex tested out a data management system attached to his suit. This has been an ongoing project for him on the expedition.

The EVA provides a good opportunity to reflect on the respective roles of astronauts and robots. North Ridge is too steep and hazardous to be climbed by a robot vehicle such as those we currently use on Mars, although it was no more than a stiff scramble for us.

Astronauts are able to access much more diverse and interesting sites than robotic systems, and do so much faster. The robotic vehicles are, however, great pathfinders and testbeds, and both astronauts and robotic systems are required to explore Mars.

How many EVAs could we expect a Mars crew to do? I have estimated at least two a week for a six-person crew. We have averaged about four or five a week, but ours are typically short, only two to four hours. We have been working at roughly the same EVA tempo to what is predicted for an actual mission.

Exploring a steep ridge near the station, terrain impossible to access with current robotic technology. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Sol 84

This is our final day. It’s quite sad, leaving the station and saying goodbye to Anushree (who we were leaving at the town of Green River to catch the train), and to Shannon (who was staying behind to prepare for the next crew), but we were too busy to really experience the goodbyes. Before we knew it our cars were loaded and we had shoehorned ourselves into them.

We are all much leaner after almost three months at the station, which may have helped us fit in. Then we were off, seeing familiar sights for the last time, as we drove out to the main road and then to Denver. Eight hours driving and a blizzard later we were receiving a warm welcome in the home of the Mars Society president in Denver, along with all the comforts of civilisation.

Last sunrise at MDRS. Jonathan Clarke personal collection

Reflections on return

Returning to “Earth” (normal life, family and friends) is a strange experience. Odd things stand out among the impressions. Here is a selection.

So many people! Fresh fruit, vegetables and meat. Real eggs. Fatty foods take a bit of getting used to – uncomfortably heavy on the stomach. I seem to be extra sensitive to unpleasant smells such as smoking.

So much of everything! Food, power, water, internet, space and people. Everything is so wasteful of water, such as toilet flushes and high-pressure taps.

Seeing animals again - especially cats. Greenery everywhere, and the smell of eucalyptus. Runny nose from pollen.

Lingering sadness of goodbyes to the crew mates but satisfaction and fond memories after a successful mission. Looking forward to keeping in touch and the next phase of the program. This will be two months at the

Flashline Mars Arctic Research Station

on Devon Island in the Canadian Arctic, and hopefully the topic of a later story in The Conversation.

FMARS panorama. Wikipedia

Jonathan Clarke is an Associate member of the Australian Centre for Astrobiology at UNSW.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. 

[ezmisery]

Have you read “Dad’s Tapes?”

My girlfriend Allie is missing and I think it has something to do with the “Dad’s Tapes” entries on this site.  Anyone normal would call me insane for thinking all of this, but I have to try. I know something isn’t right.  I can feel it in my bones.

 My name is Haruka.  I live in California with my girlfriend Allie. We’ve been together almost five years.  We were planning to get married this spring (before the crazies in office can take that right away from us).  There isn’t much exciting or unique about me.  Just your average Japanese-American lesbian.  I work in marketing.  I want children but haven’t been able to justify the expense yet.  My parents moved from the US back to Japan when I started college.  It’s really just been me and Allie, no one else.

 Allie is eccentric, to say the least.  She is the kind of woman who changes her hair color weekly.  She likes morbid things.  I had to convince her to get a cat instead of a tarantula.  Her family died when she was young.  Maybe that’s where her interest in death comes from? She’s in school to be a mortician. But the thing I love most about her is her passion.  She never does anything half-assed.  It’s inspiring.

 She is the only reason I even know about Nosleep.  Allie is obsessed.  She used to spend a good hour every night lurking on the page.  I didn’t really get it.  It’s just scary stories, right?  I’m not a huge fan of horror.  Plus, Japanese horror stories are very different than American ones.  I never saw myself or my culture reflected in American scary stories so I wasn’t interested.  But Allie – she adored the words.  If her favorite authors didn’t update soon enough she would complain all night.  I just wrote it off as one of her quirks.

 But the Dad’s Tapes series pulled at her in a way I hadn’t seen before.  She drank those stories up like water.  Allie talked about the characters all the time.  She lost sleep worrying about the protagonist and his situation.  I pretended to be interested but the whole thing sounded too odd for me.  When the series ended, Allie cried.  I think it was a combination of her favorite stories being over and the outcome of the plot.  I held her as she sobbed against my shoulder.

 I remember vividly lying in bed with her a few days after the finale.  I was snuggled under her arm, my head on her chest.  She was clearly restless.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

 “It’s nothing,” she said sadly.

 “Is it still about that story?”

 She sat up, almost offended. “It’s not just a story, Haruka. It was an experience.  I really felt for those characters.  They were like…I don’t know.  Like they were my friends.”

 “I’m sorry!  I just don’t understand.  You know I’m not the creative type like you.”  I rubbed her arm.  She leaned into my touch.

 “I feel so bad for Sam.”

 “The character?”

 “Yes!  I’ve only mentioned him a hundred times.”  She sighed.  “His life was so terribly lonely.  He never really had anyone except his dad, who was basically lying to him his entire life.”  A tear fell from her eye.  “He was just a sad person who never had a chance.”

 “Sounds like a kid I knew in middle school,” I said offhandedly.

 Allie looked at me.  “What do you mean?”

 “Sorry, it just sounds like this boy I knew.  His name was…Timmy, maybe?  I don’t remember.  But he basically had no friends and his dad was really over protective.  I actually wanted to be his friend but his dad didn’t like us to hang out.”

 Allie nearly flew off the bed.  “Was his dad a police officer?!”

 “I have no idea.”  

 “Oh my god, I knew it was real!”  Allie started to dance around the room.  A red blush rose in her skin.

 “Allie, come on.  What you read was fiction.  I bet there are millions of weird kids with overprotective dads.”

 She narrowed her eyes. “Sure.  You’re probably right.”  She got back into the bed with me.  “You grew up in LA, right?”

 “You know I did.”

 “Yeah.  Yeah…”

 I fell asleep but I got the feeling that Allie stayed up late that night.

 The weeks passed and Allie just kept talking about Dad’s Tapes.  She wouldn’t stop bothering me to read it.  She said I had to give it a chance.  I avoided it.  The way it affected her was disturbing.  She would giggle to herself and whisper about her ‘friends.’  She told me she finally reached out to them.  She was waiting for a response.  It was getting really weird.

 Fast forward to a few months ago.  Allie received a letter in the mail.  I didn’t think much of it but she was overly excited.  She ran into the bedroom and closed the door.  I went to follow her but she had locked herself in.

 “You okay?” I called.

 “I’m amazing,” she responded.  “Be out soon!”

 That night we had the best sex of our relationship.  It was like she had unleashed a part of herself neither of us knew existed.  Her touch was fire.  We rose and fell together in a chaotic harmony of bodies.

 “That was incredible,” I told her, still sweating.

 “It will only get better,” she whispered.

 She kept getting these letters and running off to the bedroom alone.  After each letter she would reemerge hungry for me.  Our sex was becoming monumental.  She played me like a violin.  I was sand between her fingers.  I would do anything she asked of me.  The passion between us was indescribable.

 But even with this new intense part of our relationship, I still couldn’t get over the letters (which never had a return address).  I mentioned it to my mom and she warned that Allie might be having an affair.  At first I laughed it off.  We were amazing together.  We were weird in all the right ways.  Hell, we fucked like caged animals.  But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was keeping something from me.

 That’s when I snooped on her computer.  I feel like a creep even admitting it.  I knew all her passwords and it was easy to guess any security questions.  We didn’t keep secrets from each other.  There was nothing off about her emails or social media. I couldn’t find any of the letters that had been sent to her.  But I noticed a youtube channel on her search history that she was viewing quite often.

 I realized quickly it was her channel.  Every thumbnail was an image of Allie, sitting alone.  I watched the first video.  Allie sat in the dim light of the bedroom, staring at the computer camera. She wasn’t smiling but there was excitement in her eyes.  In a monotone voice she said, “I am a clever friend.  I am a foolish friend.  I agree to the violent things to come.”  Then the video cut out.

 I felt sick.  The next video was called “Violent Trial #1” but before I could click it Allie barged through the door.

 “No,” she screamed, hurling herself at me and the computer.

 “Allie, I just-”

 “You ruined it!  You ruined it!”  She grabbed the laptop and threw it on the ground.  The screen split.  I jumped at the sound.  “How could you?”

 “I’m sorry!  I was just afraid…”

 “You should be afraid.” She walked right up to me and nearly pressed her nose to mine.  “You have no idea what forces you are dealing with.”

 “Look, I’m really sorry. I made a mistake.  But can you please tell me what those videos are about?” She was scaring me.  For the first time in our relationship she was truly terrifying me.

 Allie cracked her fingers. “Those videos are about you, Haruka. Can’t you tell?  Can’t you see?  You are special too.”  Without warning she slapped me across the face.  I grabbed my cheek, shocked.  “Stupid Friend.”

 “Allie, what the fuck…”

 “Ask your friend Timmy.” She turned around and left the house. I haven’t seen her since.  This was four days ago.

 I debated going to the police.  Something is clearly wrong with her.  But I felt stupid.  What would I say?  “My girlfriend thinks a reddit story is real and disappeared?”  I thought about reading the series but I can’t find it anywhere. I know it was popular…did it get taken down?

 Anyway, I would have kept all this to myself except a few hours ago I got a package delivered with no return address.  It is a huge cardboard box.  It was initially addressed to Allie but someone crossed out Allie’s name and wrote in mine.  

 Inside are hundreds of cassette tapes.  Could this be related to the stories?  They all look like they’re labeled in Latin except for one, which was placed on top. As though the person sending it wanted me to see this exact tape.  It is identical to the others except the label is written in Japanese.  It says, “私たちはあなたのために来ている”

 What should I do?

[pocketminstrel]

twenty-sixteen, age 21+22

it’s quite beautiful that i can never predict the experiences that will stick to me as i finish each year and look forward to the next, even though i can always outline my commitments and the places i’ll be. as i look back on this past year, i think of a collection of singular memories and emotions that have all bled into each other and seeped into my soul and exploded into the mess i am today. currently, i feel that i’m the most confused i have ever been. and yet i feel the most aware and knowledgable about myself, the world, and what i can give and take from it. i guess basically what had happened in 2016 is that more and more question marks began to spring into my life than were being resolved, either because of new experiences or the sheer fact that i was finally motioned towards them. 

i’m realizing that just sounds incredibly vague, so i’ll wrap this intro up and dive into details. but before i start, i would like to say that 2016 was another grand year of coming of age. but tiffany, you’re already 22, you already came of age. i’d like to think that life is just a long and stringy story of self-discovery, and that no matter how old we get, if we are properly living, we are constantly changing. which means there is always more to learn, especially when it comes to ourselves. The smart ass self-aware-tiff in me would like to disagree, but i wave my white flag to this truth.

i started this year off pretty secure. i had a great summer (facebook) and fall (berlin) lined up for me, so all there was left for me to do was to enjoy the present: my friends, family, boyfriend, school, and projects. my classes - collaborative innovation, modern lit, philosophy of mind, and social psychology - each represented and stimulated very important pillars of my identity. it was a very wholesome academic semester; lots of writing - i think i counted all the pages i wrote for social psych and it was around 70 or so - but i never dreaded any of it. i remember constantly walking out of my classes in awe and inspired. i was able to throw an art gallery and work in teams that encouraged me to learn about what role i take in them.

during spring break, i went to japan. ironically, i’m actually here again writing this right now. but being in an asian country for the first time in 8 years had a profound effect on me. i have vivid memories of struggling to find the airbnb near the skytree and falling dizzily in love with the tiny streets (finally my size!!), delicate greenery, and colors of the streets - pink, yellow, and green, talking fulfillment with jasmine and monica at commune 246, filling up a whole bar every night out with the sep group, bright green calpico/sake drinks, biking down arashiyama forest and getting lost in the cold, walking out of the station in kyoto to be surprised by the fushimi inari temple, gawking at the box-like architecture in harajuku, and so much more. i remember on the train to kyoto, i thought to myself, it feels really damn good to be asian here.

when i came back to berkeley from japan, my boyfriend at the time told me that he loved me. i didn’t think i was the type - to put so much weight into words of affirmation - but strangely, this changed a lot of things for me. i was trying very hard to kid myself of the very strong feelings that i had for him in fear of pain; but hearing those words from him yanked that delusion immediately out of me. i was in love, i had a very special person in my life who made me stupidly happy, and there was no turning back.

much of the way i organize time for the most of this year is marked by where i was in my relationship. i think in general, relationships tend to do that to you, but i think my case is a little different because our relationship was a slave to time. man, is time a bitch. but time also heals, time sheds light, and time gives you wisdom. my prolonged post-breakup reflection forced me to stare at some huge huge faults about and what i need/what i can improve on about myself in regards to the ways i receive and give love. 

in may, i started my internship at facebook. i was working on a tool with immense social impact. i woke up every day to the rewarding and intimidating reality that i could help millions and millions of lives. but 90% of the time my manager was stressing balls because of the nature of our product, and i felt that i didn’t get as much mentorship as i deserved. and being me, i didn’t ask for it, thinking it would all be okay and i could handle it all by myself just fine. and sometime halfway, i realized that my creative process is not where i want it to be, and that being at facebook could not realize that for me, at least not immediately. i knew i had to be somewhere else. also around the same time, i could not shake facebook’s eerie life-hand-holding and empathy vacuum when it came to social media’s effect on the youth psyche. 

outside of work and all, i had a vibrant social life filled with tons of new and old friendships. i think of the talks i had with ashley in my room, which brought me so much clarity i nearly melted into tears every time we hung out, shuttle rides and “exploring” sunnyvale with luke, nights in the city with zai and maheen, talking ideas and creativity with kevin, eating noodles with kelsey every day, and weekends with angela in berkeley or union square. sometime in the summer, i dyed my hair blue. it was a huge mistake and i hated it, but i guess it was something to cross off my bucket list. 

in 2016, i also went to way too many concerts to count. some shows that come to mind immediately are sophie, ben UFO, Nao, Mura Masa, robert glasper, honne, gold panda, the pc music label, and my god everyone at the clubs in berlin - i got to see anthony naples at berghain, even, the man who got me into house music in the first place. 

i went to two music festivals, too: osl and fyf. at osl, i was nearly moved to tears at “elegy to the void” during beach house’s set - it was the first time i heard that song; i never really gave “thank your lucky stars” a chance. at fyf, i danced my heart out to gerd janson, bicep, black madonna, and hot chip. gerd janson in an act i’ll particularly remember - it was as i was getting a warm, personal goodbye for berlin.

the week of fyf was one of the most interesting crossroads of time in my life. it was the last week i had in california before moving to berlin. it was the week of ending facebook and having loads of clarity with what i needed in my career. it was when i held my mom’s hand during a PET scan. it was the first time i could play with my four month old baby nephew whom i love so very much. it was when i dyed my hair back to a normal color. it was when i learned to really love and appreciate daniel and elaine. and it was the first time i would see my ex in months. needless to say, a lot of anticipation went into that ^ meetup, and i hold that memory near and dear to my heart. the conversation we had in the yellowish park in dtla next to the jewelry district meant a lot to me. sparks flew and they flew. 

and then there was berlin. i’m a bit scared to write this part actually. a lot was going on for me internally (see above) immediately before leaving, and for the majority of my time abroad, i was so lost. i didn’t know what i was doing there, feeling like i was just wasting my time and escaping responsibility. at times, i felt so alone. i convinced myself for a bit that i thought about everything so ceaselessly already that i didn’t need a new environment to learn about myself and be challenged to open my eyes up to the world. but in berlin, i found experiences that could not have happened to me anywhere else or could have hit home at any other time in my life. in berlin, i found muses. i found friends that inspired me with their individuality: yacha, jenn, vartan, kyra. i found club culture. i found the bullshit of aesthetic photography. i found the importance of pursuing what feels right. i found the importance of being my authentic self, even though it can feel isolating at times. i found an outlet in philosophy and art history, escaping into the aura of some of the greatest museums in the world, especially the moderna museet in stockholm and the ai wei wei exhibition in florence. it was a time of finding comfort in facebook chats with peter, jimmy, and jason. it was a time of living an alternate life with a completely unfamiliar routine of life and culture.

however, i think the contrast of returning back home was where i learned the most about the whole experience. they call it reverse culture shock. you really do see the juxtaposition of your current self and a previous self when you go back home. though while home i was fighting a bacterial sinus infection and rhinitis, i had never been so happpy to be with my family. it was the first time being back home where i didn’t even want to see my friends; i just wanted to be at home and be surrounded by my passionate, hilarious, loving parents, siblings, and nephew. man, are we explosive group of seven but equally explosive in support and love. i am almost tearing up writing this.

there’s much more to say, and probably tens of other experiences i should mention in here, but this post is getting too long and i should stop being a hermit crab. 

2017 is going to be an amazing year. i can feel it.

[tomoyanosekai]

The Greatest Hits Playlist~僕の全部〜 (Boku no Zenbu: My Everything)

“The dreams that were too big to be held inside those small hands

Now I’ve grown up and remember them

I wonder what the person I was back then would say

If they saw me fretting and struggling over the small stuff”

- スターリングスター (Starring Star) by KEYTALK

「僕の名前は池村チャッドです！僕がアメリカのロサンゼルスから来ました。僕は日本人と中国人、そして高校の1年から4年まで日本語を勉強しました。よかったら、日本人の名前「智也」と呼んで下さい。よろしくお願いします！」

“My name is Chad Ikemura, and I’m from Los Angeles, California in America! I’m half Japanese and half Chinese, and I studied Japanese for four years in America. If you’d like, you can feel free to call me by my Japanese name, Tomoya. It’s nice to meet you!”

Every time I met someone new in Japan, this was how I introduced myself to them. It was strange; they thought I was one of them since I looked Japanese in appearance and mannerisms, and also sounded like them when I spoke the language, but also spoke English fluently without an accent, and was also a Christian, who was unlike anything they’d seen. Yes, to them, I’m a half Japanese Christian man who could speak Japanese who came from America. The month of July has come and gone quicker than the blink of an eye for me as I’ve spent it here in Japan. At the time of this writing, I have about a week and a half left before I return to America, and around two weeks before I’m back in Los Angeles. As each and every day has come and gone, I’ve been living in a repetitive and exhausting routine schedule at Hirosaki Nozomi Christ Church, and each day here hasn’t really allowed me much time to sit down, unpack, reflect and write out my thoughts. With my music playing set to a playlist of all my favorite songs in my earbuds, I finally have time to look back at all the moments I’ve been living through and can thoughtfully scroll through all the pictures I’ve taken. Through everything, I can’t believe how far I’ve come, and how I’ve been utilized and used.

If I were to try and look back at the past few months I’ve spent in Hirosaki, all of them feel like this whole trip’s been a blur, and the feelings I felt near the end of the school year felt so long ago. Through each day I’ve been working in the church, I’ve been focusing extremely hard on how I could serve and forge relationships with the people in front of me. In order to walk forward and focus, I had to let go of everything and leave things from home behind. I could finally live out my childhood dream and go beyond what my younger self had ever envisioned. However, in the midst of many people coming and going, of the problems I faced, of the changing relationships with other people, I was trying to be strong for others and myself on my own again. I did not like the problems that I saw in front of me that came from the people around me. These problems still haven’t ended, and I can say for sure that I still don’t like it. I already witnessed most of the same problems from Hope Rising, and I didn’t want to see a repeat of that happening in a larger and important Church congregation setting. If we couldn’t love on each other properly, how could we love on the Japanese people properly? How much longer would it be until the people we were preaching to would eventually see that we weren’t practicing what we preached to them? Those were the things I questioned paired up with the feelings I felt but ultimately bottled them up as I tried to continue to fix it by being me.

“There will be confusing days,

but knock on the door to tomorrow

Just plunge into

what's ahead of you!

Believe yourself!!”

- Over “Quartzer” by Shuta Sueyoshi feat. ISSA

As there are problems here in front of me currently, I have literally no idea what goes on at home anymore. As I’ve been gone, I missed out on two celebrations with my family: Father’s Day and my Mom’s Birthday. For my Mom’s Birthday, I ended up Facetiming her just so that I could wish her a Happy Birthday in person. However, what I thought was going to be a 10-15 minute talk turned into an hour-long conversation about everything I had been experiencing, and became a time for me to vent how frustrated I was with myself and everything I saw in front of me; to the point of where I was sobbing frustrated tears. It had been so long since I had a face-to-face interaction with anyone from home, and it had been such a long time where I was able to be honest about my feelings; both with myself and with someone from home. However, it was through this phone call with my Mom that I finally had the chance to ask myself this:

“Do you remember who you are? Have you forgotten the things you experienced before this?”

Through all the things I did at Hirosaki Nozomi Christ Church, through focusing on all the people in front of me, I found that I had forgotten a key part to this trip: my own identity. As my introduction from the beginning of this post shows: I know who I am. I haven’t actually given myself a chance to have a proper and honest self-diagnosis of my emotional state. There’s a lot of people that are better than me in a lot of ways, and I hated the fact that I felt I was useless. I’ve doubted my own self worth to this team and the church, as well as wrestled with the idea of continuing to live life alone as I would be mostly alone at school and have no idea what I want to do with my life. I was tired of being strong for others, and I was tired of lying to myself about my own strength; my strength had limits before I crash and burn.

However, everything I felt was stemmed from the fact that I forgot about the things that I’ve been through that shaped me and brought me to where I am now. Through that exchange with my Mom, I was able to see that I was finally feeling lonely and homesick and I looked down at my own talents. I wanted to change, and I quantified my own growth and maturity as something that wasn’t “good enough.” But that isn’t the case, not at all anymore. I am worthy to stand on the stage known as Japan, alongside this group of Short Term Missionaries.

“A mighty soaring wall,

for whom do we cross over it?

Oh Oh Oh Oh Aim to overcome yourself

Instead of the common right solution,

there’s one and only answer,

Oh Oh Oh Oh The one to choose it

is no one else but you,

now towards the future you can only find here!”

- Blizzard by 三浦大知 (Miura Daichi)

My time here is temporary, and I created bonds with not just the people in front of me, but with the other people work with. Everything is being used, and God is making sure that all of me is being used. My past and my present is being used to lead others to their future; like a greatest hits playlist. Just like all the best songs from the prior years are collected into one giant playlist, all of the different things I’ve experienced in years prior are being used, both recent and from years before. My past and present is being used to create a future for these people in front of me. I was using my everything to further the bonds in front of me, and I’m even using my everything to fight against the things in front of me as well.

“The wind of the moment has its own message to share

(It's blowin' up stronger and stronger till it reaches you)

Your dreams and future may seem so far away...

(When you've got all you can out of life, that's when you can stop)

But don't let life get you down

(Keep your head held high)

Wherever you may go (Never compromise yourself)

Follow the path you believe in, and JUST LIVE MORE!”

- JUST LIVE MORE by 鎧武乃風 (Gaim no Kaze)

“Don’t forget who you are. In the midst of everything you’re facing, don’t forget who you are, where you’ve been, what you’ve faced, what you’ve overcome. You’re forgetting who you are despite everything else going on.”

I know I still have one more week left here in Aomori, but my time is coming to an end. But even as my time is running out, there is one question that I’m still asking myself:

“What does it mean to live my best life?”

Even though I spent almost two months in Japan living out my dream, I still have no idea what I want to do in the future. The only tip I had came from Biola’s Missions Conference, where one of the speakers recommended that “I should re-engage with my past, and that I’d probably find that my future being deeply rooted with my past.” Through almost two months of Missions Work in Hirosaki, I began to ask,

“What does it mean to explore the stories rooted in my past?”

Despite everything I’ve seen and felt, I have been using the stories rooted in my past and present in my childhood dream. However, it was this thought from the Pastor’s wife that allowed me to reflect and think about how I’ve been living my life for the past two months, where she told me and some of the other Short Termers this:

“If you don’t realize you’re mortal, you can’t live well.”

She’s not wrong in the slightest, and her words and stories are a living testament to walking forward. They’ve had so many twists and turns, added along with many near-death experiences, and despite that, they were here in Hirosaki serving the Lord and doing so many amazing things that feel extremely impossible for me.

“Keep going forward no matter where you are

What awaits you at the end is a brand new world

Don't turn back

Your footsteps will become your tracks one day”

- hikari by lol -エルオーエル-

Stemming from last month’s post, my dirty feet show how much I’ve walked. Not only does it show how much I’ve walked, but it’s shown how much work that’s been done through me, and how much work I’m putting in. My trial runs, my failures, my successes, and everything in this journey all means something and contributes to my growth. Although I have no idea what I want for my future, I do know that it is time for me to go back. I know for certain that I have grown within these last two months, and I know I have people waiting for me to come back. Whether or not they’ve graduated, aside from my family, I know for certain that I have friends waiting for me, and I don’t need to worry about that.

As Solomon writes...

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…”

- Ecclesiastes 3:1

“I'll see you again, that's a promise.

Even as we walk our own paths...

I know that we look up at the same blue sky

I want to see you again, but until then...

I'll work on becoming my best self

I'll see you again to tell you these new stories”

- また君に会いたい (Mata Kimi ni Aitai: I Want to See You Again) Kyuuranger with Project R.

As I click the switch twice on my earbuds and change to another song in my iPod, it switches to a song I really like.

“But don’t look back – we’ve gotta go!

Even if we can’t say, “See you again someday…”

I still remember that secret password

And the pure red sunsets that only exist after school.

Saying goodbye doesn’t fit our style,

Even if our fate remains derailed far into the future.

We’ve managed to share this time together, at least in the beginning,

So even if everything were to disappear…

That one bond will never come undone!”

- ボタン (Button) by PENGUIN RESEARCH

I know that I will find my way back to Japan somehow. Whether that be the countryside area of Aomori or the giant metropolis that is Tokyo, I will find my way back here. Throughout my time here, with the exception of one other souvenir that will be left unknown for the time being, my second favorite souvenir is a blue zip-up hoodie with a samurai on the back. For those who don’t know: this is the official jacket of Kouta Kazuraba from Kamen Rider Gaim, and I was able to get myself one. As I walk forward with dirty feet and with my earbuds in my ears and iPod filled with my favorite music in my jacket pocket, this jacket represents the fact that I AM here and that I DID take the stage here in Japan, where I had the chance to use my everything. However, as nice as it’s been, it’s time for me to return soon.

Time to walk forward, return back to California, reclaim the stage at Biola, and finish things there soon.

“From here on out, it’s my stage!!”