#i think they would be cute... both like the blunt straightforward approach (from what we know of taash at least)

[crows-of-buckets]

I have like. Zero reasoning for this but Davrin/Taash... I am thinking

[belaephemeral]

of flesh and bone, thunder and lightning

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader (gender-neutral) 

This oneshot will refer to Wanderer as “Scaramouche”. Feel free to replace this with the name you chose for him as you read!

Summary: Every gesture, touch and action that you share with him is something that you will always treasure. From the way his eyes securely lock onto yours, like two puzzle pieces falling into place, to the fingers that interlock with yours, like threads of an interwoven tapestry of adoration that perfectly weave together; it simply just isn’t enough. But what you always desire for are the kisses that are oh so characteristically him. You yearn for the invigorating way it nourishes and rejuvenates the ardour that blooms in your heart whenever he conveys his endearment through a loving and intimate embrace. 

Word count: 3000

Author’s Note: Happy belated White Day everyone! (I meant to post this earlier but I had a presentation and a mock exam. Sorry for the wait!)

(PS: I named Wanderer “sayang” [“love/darling” in Bahasa Malaysia] because I couldn’t think of a name that would fully reflect his personality and what he means to me. I will always refer to him as “Scaramouche” so, I gave him a cute pet name! Though I was extremely compelled to call him baby girl. Haha, let me know what you named him!)

From the moment of his conception into that hollow, artificial shell to his current incarnation as the enigmatic, wandering wayfarer, the former renowned Balladeer isn’t well versed in the language of intimacy. In fact, he is rather perplexed with your inherent fluency in it. 

One evening, he found you peering over his shoulder as the clouds soared overhead and the ink of nightfall spilled onto the expanse of sky that hung over your forms. “What do you want from me?” he inquires brusquely, inexperienced with the notion of being inextricably tethered to someone. A connection forged by the countless moments you have shared together, the numerous battlefields you have both emerged victorious and triumphant from as you stood over the bodies of your enemies, and the several occasions he’s learnt that he could tolerate your presence and the serene silences that envelop you both after a tiresome day. “Do enlighten me as to what you are thinking - though I can’t guarantee I’ll retain interest in this conversation if you simply wanted to engage in small talk.” As expected. There’s that honest and straightforward reaction that you’re well acquainted with and a familiar demonstration of his infamously sharp tongue and blunt remarks. 

Absent-mindedly, you gingerly draw the pressed hems of his white collar closer to the centre of his chest, your hands slowly reaching towards the various embellishments that adorn his body and minutely adjusting them to their rightful place. Scaramouche notices the way your brows knit together, as though you were slightly vexed by the mild breeze prior that put them into a state of disarray and disturbed them from the rich cobalt and baby blue fabric that they were fastened to. 

Inquisitively, his orbs observe your movements, waiting for your next words. He  waits with the patience you would never have been able to rouse within him when you initially met. Gradually, your eyes meet his, and you struggle to conceal the beam that threatens to spill onto your face. The expectant look that glazes his features and the way your hands smooth out the folds of his signature attire reminds you of your various encounters with the felines you’ve run into throughout your journey. Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair just as you did with the inky-black shorthair you met a few hours ago, you tilt your head up to peer into his dark pools of purple and whisper, just loud enough for him to catch your words amongst the whistle of the wind and the howl of the approaching night: “The sun is setting; shall we retire for the night?” 

Scaramouche isn’t used to physical displays of affection: your touch makes him flinch momentarily, but his muscles relax as your presence permeates into him and your delectable scent renders him defenceless. Simultaneously, his thoughts are occupied at the irony of how you intend to maintain his aesthetic integrity despite the grime and dust that speckles his pristine ivory outfit and the minuscule crimson cuts peppered onto his smooth and unblemished pale skin. 

Continuing your tentative ministrations, you gaze into his dark indigo orbs, which are flecked with specks of aquamarine and royal blue - you gaze into them as though you’re searching both for an answer and searching for a glimpse into what could possibly run through that inquisitive and yet tranquil mind of his. 

Abruptly, his head snaps away from yours, the ornaments adorning his body twinkling as he does so. He exhales, releasing a sound that, to an ordinary passerby, verges a fine line between mutual amiability and absolute contempt. In reality, he uses the derisive scoff that escapes him to try and conceal the flush that creeps along the apples of his cheeks and flourishes to the tips of his ears. Slowly, he closes one eye and snidely peeks at your form with a timbre full of mirth and he softly purrs: “Hmm? What, you can’t fall asleep with me around? And here I was - assuming you had something important to tell me. Well, despite expecting more, I guess it can’t be helped.” A glint of playfulness flashes onto his crystalline orbs. Candour laces every sentence that leaves his mouth but his words betray the way he unconsciously beckons you ever closer to him to witness the stars string themselves into constellations before your very eyes.

“Well, if it is ever anything about you, it most certainly is important to me.” The former Fatui Harbinger isn’t as sly as he thinks he is - your perceptive gaze catches traces of the pink that dusts his bewitching visage and the slightest dilation of his obsidian pupils. After he finally unravelled the persona he had skillfully hid underneath his artificial facade, you revel in the way your closeness flusters him and you relish in the way you are the only person he’d traverse these lands with to find his true identity and meaning in his newfound life. 

“It’s astonishing how you can utter that without an ounce of shame. I guess it’s by your nature - fortunately your fighting capabilities and, well, decent appearance compensate for your rather brazen personality.” 

With an astounded gasp, you lightly swat his shoulder, earning the faintest snigger from the male. Eyes glinting with mischief and a subtle smile curled with mirth, he observes you once again chuckling exasperatedly at his antics. “Well, excuse me for caring about you - aren’t you freezing in that outfit? At this rate, you might catch a cold.” As the moon rises, the temperature slowly depletes. The chill of the wind bites into your skin but Scaramouche seems unfazed by it - he, in fact, basks in the gusts that periodically billow by. His brows are no longer furrowed and his jaw unclenches, content with the way the breeze tousles his deep purple tresses and causes stray strands of hair flutter against his face.  

Gently, you slink your arms around his shoulders, your fingers drawing nonsensical shapes on the nape of his neck. “I need to have my sparring partner in tip-top shape. Nursing you back to health is not something I want to add to my itinerary - you should be well-aware that my schedule is completely full.” You add haughtily, his teasing remarks spurring you to counter his verbal advance with a challenge of your own. “And I’ll have you know that in the time it will take for you to recover, my combat proficiency will certainly surpass yours in no time. If that’s the case, then I assume that you want to lose to me again?”

“Why you-” his head dives forward as he launches an attack on your jugular. “Rest assured, I do not have a delicate constitution, unlike those other ordinary mortals.” As he buries his nose into your collarbone and his digits trace your ribs and waist, you convulse with laughter as his touch dances against sensitive parts of your upper torso. Your hands attempt to resist his ministrations, but his physical strength overpowers you, not that you were putting much of a fight in the first place, and you’re stupefied by the teeth that unexpectedly graze your clavicle and leave the affected area tingling with electricity. Audaciously nipping your neck as you titter, he softly murmurs against your skin: “I’ll let you stew in your victory for today, koibito, but I’ll have you know that I do not intend on losing - must I remind you of who remains the reigning champion in all of our duels?” 

Averting your head away from his firm grip, you blow a raspberry, sneering smugly at him: “Sure, call it whatever you want Scaramouche - construe the indisputable fact that my talents and ability outclass yours, which obviously excels way beyond your current capabilities, into whatever palatable narrative that will satiate you. Just accept your defeat already.”

His eyes catch yours and one of the corners of his mouth lifts upwards, just enough for you to notice the glint of his boyish fangs. “Oh, koibito, you’ll renounce those words once I conquer you on the battlefield tomorrow. I’ll remind you of the sweet taste of my overwhelming prowess.”

His intoxicating presence infiltrates your senses like a potent toxin: he renders you defenceless to his reticent whims. From prior fleeting meetings and brief acquaintanceship that solidifies into something more, it is in moments like these, you can feel the pulsing and robust bond that has bound you two together - a bond you nor he could sever without incapacitating the other that has been irrevocably tied to this everlasting string that connects your beings. 

Swiftly slicing into the universe that has formed between you and him, a drop of rain splatters onto the plane of grass that lays beneath your feet. A few droplets multiply into a light drizzle, which then gradually lead to a downpour that descends relentlessly onto your figures. 

Yelping as a cold stream of water cascades down your back, you instinctively pull Scaramouche closer to your form. Reaching your hand above your head, you promptly draw one end of his hat downwards in a futile attempt to shield both you and him from the torrential rain. Over the thundering pitter-patter descending above you, you make out an exasperated yell erupt from the form within your grasp: “Seriously, you’re using my hat as an umbrella?! The audacity!”

“Stop moving your mouth and start moving those legs! Let’s hurry to the house before we’re both soaked through!”

Briskly, your hand wraps around his lithe waist whilst the other clasps his nimble wrist. You pull him firmly towards the quaint cottage that Granny Ruoxin kindly let the two of you reside in after taking care of throng of Treasure Hoarders and stray agents of the Fatui who sought to disturb the peaceful village. 

As the rain pelts down onto the vibrant expanse of orange and yellow fields, Scaramouche stumbles and teeters as he loses his footing. The dirt dampens with the downpour and the muddy surface threatens to pull him down as his ukon-geta sinks into the moist soil underneath his figure. Noticing his struggle, you whisk him into your arms. Hoisting his frame closer to your chest, you support his waist in one hand, tucking his form closer to your bosom as his legs are securely lifted up with your other hand. 

Scaramouche’s features contort into one of shock but he is unable to fully explore his sudden astonishment as your ministrations cause him to desperately cling onto your shoulders to avoid falling down. Incredulously, he shouts: “A little warning would have been nice!” Closing his lids, to calm his thundering heartbeat and to allay the sudden spur of bewilderment, he hollers: “Is this really necessary? You shouldn’t fret over me in such a situation - put me down and take care of yourself first.” 

Fidgeting in your hold, he ruffles like an agitated and displeased feline, clawing his way out of your secure embrace. For once, it isn’t because your actions have aroused that inherent feeling of vexation or irritation that wells in his being. For once, (even if these are things he’s thought about countless times, but he internally, indignantly and stubbornly refuses to accept this) he’s concerned about the hefty burden carrying him places on your form, already weary with the elemental reactions inflicted onto you and the countless swords and weapons you had to defend yourself and him against. For once, he’s afraid you’ll become ill with every transparent drop of water that descends onto your exquisite profile. For once, he’s at a conflict between relishing in how your arms sturdily and firmly grip his form with the same overwhelming strength and power he’s witnessed in innumerable battles, and reprimanding your foolish selflessness that blinds you from the danger of trekking through the vast plains of terrace fields and hills that await you on your journey to the quaint village. 

“Pipe down, Scaramouche, do you honestly think that I would let you walk in this storm with sandals like that?” Glancing at the clogs that limply hang from his feet, he grimaces at the soil that cakes the dark wooden soles and he’s starkly reminded of the pain that shot up the length of his calf when he stumbled moments ago. 

“Hmm? Cat got your tongue? If so, hold on tightly, ohimesama, let me take care of you now.” It’s astounding that even here, you’d snarkily tease him so. It’s astonishing that even now, you don’t seize your romantic advancements - not as you briskly send a cheeky wink and gallantly march towards the cozy cottage that awaits the two of you. Heavy rainfall splatters relentlessly onto your visage, which seems even more breathtaking as the water highlights your charming features. (Not that he’d actually vocalise these thoughts - maybe it’s because of his pride or because he’s afraid of inflating your ego any more than it already is. Perhaps it’s because he trips over the words he wishes to tell you, your beauty petrifying him so much so that he feels vulnerable in a way he’s never experienced before and flustered that he lacks the same amount of experience you hold in amorous endeavours.) 

After being well-acquainted with your headstrong, albeit also quite frustratingly stubborn and obstinate, nature, he surrenders to your whims. The only thing he can do is to securely loop his arms around your neck and, begrudgingly, use his hat to provide some way of deflecting the incessant downpour. He flushes at the way you reflexively move your head closer to his, your damp strands tickling his jaw. Instinctively, you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, tucking yourself into him to cover what little could fit underneath his headwear. 

It certainly will be a long journey back to Qingce Village, he muses, gazing beyond the tempestuous storm and the clouds brewing with strobes of lightning. The tenacious glint never leaves your captivating optics even as you inhale and exhale shakily whilst climbing the rolling hills and undulating pathways to your desired destination. Even as your chest heaves under his weight and tracks of rainwater stream down the curve of your cheek, the edge of your chin and the hollow of your neck, your hold is unfailingly firm under his lithe thighs and the broad column of his back and shoulders.

He’ll have to reward you for your efforts later - such chivalrous acts deserve commendation - something that even he is aware of. He acutely recalls how much you you yearn for his recognition - albeit not explicitly, he knows how voicing your merits inextricably affects you. Who is he to deny you your well-earned praise? Who is he to not demonstrate his utmost gratitude of your efforts? He’ll certainly show you his appreciation - he just hopes you’ll be able to bear the gravity of his newfound passion - a sudden onslaught of fervent ardour that consumes him wholly. It would be an expression you would have never expected from him but like your proficiency in wielding the elements, you’ll diligently endure him. After all, that’s what is expected of the partner of the former renowned Balladeer. And he knows you definitely won’t disappoint.

_____

Scaramouche isn’t one for showing his admiration outright - especially not in broad daylight and exposed to the judgemental scrutiny of outsiders who have no right to learn of his ardent affinity for you. He absolutely abhors the idea of anyone seeing how your actions make him putty in your hands. He detests the thought of anyone seeing how a heart manifests in his artificial rib cage, rattling against wire and alive and beating within that hollow shell of his puppet body. 

Under the private gaze of the moon and your eyes only, away from the daunting, captious view of the outside world, he unravels himself to you. His touch is inexperienced, but as his reincarnation’s name suggests, he craves discovery and desires exploration. 

Like electricity, his lips leave supple trails of kisses along your jugular - his actions igniting sparks in their wake and making your skin tingle with a numbing and thrilling static that persists even as he draws himself away from you. Despite the stringent, blunt and yet considerate facade he performs in-front of others, you can taste the lingering remnants of his territorial, cunning and dominant persona through the way he smirks against the expanse of your clavicle, and writes his name with the purple and light red flowers that begin to blossom on your torso. You’re submerged in the palpitating sensation he sends throughout your body, conducting a current of his fervent ardour to every area of your pliant and yielding form. It spreads through the vast network of veins and blood vessels that come to life with every caress of his hands. It jumpstarts an uproar of passion that had once lay dormant deep within the core of your being for so long, awakened by the energy he fuels into you with every movement of his deft digits and the ravenous purple orbs that bore into yours. 

Eagerly and rapaciously, he consumes the sounds that escape your mouth, punctuated by the roaring strikes of thunder that briefly illuminate your entwined figures resting on your shared double bed and guided by the sustained metronome of the rain that continues to fall outside and casts shadows along the mahogany floors of the cottage. Selfishly, he drinks you in like you’re the only entity that will satiate this vehement desire - like you’re the only person to satisfy this intense hunger that ravishes his entire being. He delights in the way you squirm underneath his form, desperate to chase him, to hold him accountable for the pulsating ache he triggered into every single inch of skin, flesh and bone within your body, to ensure he’s responsible for the searing libido that courses through every fibre of your being. 

Even within the haze of frantic, erratic movements and desperate, yearning caresses, he realises that in this moment, you never fail to make him feel like he belongs. Your presence provokes him to feel like he was always destined to be engulfed wholly by your tender embrace. Like he was preordained to be irrevocably tethered to your celestial presence, like he was fated to be loved by you. To return your fervent reassurances that ensure he is more than an just the discarded puppet he was born as, and the comfort you provide by will-fully devoting yourself to guiding him to the future that he deserves, he’ll drown you in his affections. 

Ever chasing the next thrill, the next competition, he’ll see how long you can withstand before he completely overwhelms you. 

After all, he’s grateful for everything you’ve done for him. This is just one of many ways for him to show his appreciation.

[bluebunnysart]

i'm still super excited so im gonna gush some more (abt the fic) but i do wanna say i freakin love how big the artist chose to make Teto's wings; i thought my own drawing was big but this artist made them BIGGER and I LOVE THAT because she's sooo creature-coded and i super love that about her, just, isnt it so cool when we have three characters (Triple Baka) but one of them can just sprout (hugeass) wings at any time, Teto, ur so so special <3

Also i love the clear circuitry on Miku's face/the side of her neck.... super obviously an android...... I welcome it immensely, I didnt think of that but I absolutely accept it. She's actually been in that place for a non-small amount of time so it'd make sense if she got slightly damaged from the elements!! Idk if I'll change my existing drawing since I'm treating it as alternate interpretations which i love, but I wanted to say I love it <3

Fanfic spoilers below:

talking about my own fic, one of my favorite moments is towards the end where Miku is like completely ready to ditch her bc eksgskfsks ofc Teto's like, "??!???!" and if i drew it, you'd start seeing her expression slowly change into mild irritation/sheer disbelief bc I think it's kinda understandable why Teto would be the type to get attached easily (in this setting) but all Miku remembers is Teto agreed to help her for a little bit so ofc Miku's like, "Yay you've done what you said you would! thank you so very much! I will now be taking my leave"

The reason I like this moment (among others) is bc I think it really highlights their differences in personality and approaching things xD Ofc I love interpretation so I wont cross out alternate interpretations at all but if you're curious about mine,

I'm a fan of tsundere (always have been) but this Teto in particular (UTAU Teto) has had like zero contact with others for quite a while..... She might even be a shut-in because I did briefly explore her perspective in my mind and she actually tries to avoid others/going out if she can help it. That's bc going out into the world depresses her!!! lol!

She doesnt immediately trust others, maybe she's seen how savage/disloyal other creatures are and thinks there cant be anything good from associating with them or getting along with them, so she's most comfortable alone. When she first encounters Miku, you might be able to make this connection, but the main reason she approached (besides needing food) was she was like, "who is THAT??" and thought it might actually be a human (all of whom were supposed to have died out a long time ago). Teto has mixed feelings towards humans, maybe a mix of positive and negative, so unlike other creatures, if she saw a human, of course she'd get curious. Obviously humans make her favorite French bread too so she owes them for that xD

ANYWAY Teto lore dump aside, she doesnt know how to socialize/be very friendly and is pretty blunt/sharp-tongued/sassy. The main thing about her is she's kinda dishonest now and cant really speak her feelings cuz it feels like revealing weakness, so if she's ever expressing something about herself, she's most likely to couch it in like rational or practical terms. never "i want/feel like this so please listen to me" but more "this will benefit us both so I'd go with that if I were you". It's something I find very cute about her!!!

Miku is the straightforward type who doesnt understand connotations or anything yet so she's really easily the type to say or do socially unconventional things and have Teto react like "???" (one of my favorite reactions in manga/etc is confusion lmao, it's just so raw)

Anyway Teto would never bully Miku or anything, she's just sassy and sharp like I mentioned, but Miku is also the type to have those things completely fly over her head, so even if Teto tried to rile Miku up in return, she'd probably totally fail at it and it'd backfire xD (making her embarrassed instead from even trying/thinking it'd work)

This is just random gushing about different personalities coming together and interacting with each other but honestly this is prompted by the fanart too cuz i LOVE those expressions

i'm so happy people like the fic LOL, i posted it expecting like only one kudos at the very least I hoped so I'm really happy! having more eyes on it makes me kinda nervous but I'm glad if the reception is positive ^_^ (it's not like I'd crumble if i got negativity but I really would prefer not to see it considering how much I like Negidrill!! so!!! xD)

OH YEAH, WHILE I WAS looking up Walkmans to help describe them in my fic ebay recommended me a HATSUNE MIKU WALKMAN and that made me laugh bc everything that exists has a Hatsune Miku version of it out there, bet xD

Was fitting considering I was also making Hatsune Miku fanfic 😂😂😂😂

[btssaysstudy]

Salvage - 1 || jjk/kth.

Summary: After your confession, it's safe to say that there was nothing left to salvage between you and Jungkook. However, things start to change when a new hurdler joins the team. Genre: college!au, track!jungkook, track!taehyung, track!reader, angst & fluff Pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader Warning(s) : unrequited love, alcohol (drinking) mentioned, swearing Chapter Word Count: 3.7k a/n: My first mini series! Let me know what you guys think and the ending depends on your feedback :) taglist: do let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist

series masterlist

“Wake me up when you’re done.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Your body got up from your seat, but your gaze still glued on your laptop screen and hands on your keyboard. Your roommate groaned, marching her way to pull your hands away from the laptop.

“Yn, it’s a Friday night. Let’s go! Namjoon’s waiting for us downstairs.”

“Yea but,” You sighed, your eyes on your work, “I still have quite a lot of things to do. Maybe I’ll skip this party—“

“Like how you missed Hoseok’s birthday party? I’m sure he’s going to hunt you down later. You still have the weekends to complete your work and you’re already dressed up.”

You knew your roommate was right. You had agreed to go for this party since it was one of Namjoon’s close friends’ birthday. Though you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you were close to Namjoon and his girlfriend, who also happened to be your roommate - Miya.

“Okay, okay.” You quickly saved your work and turned your laptop off. “Let’s go.”

Miya squealed in excitement, linking her arm around yours as she pulled you towards the door. The two of you went down to meet Namjoon who had been patiently waiting for you to get down.

“Sorry for wait.” You gave an apologetic smile. “No worries! We’re still early. Good to miss the first few awkward minutes of the party.” He chuckled as he opened the car door to let you both in.

Miya truly hit jackpot with Namjoon. He was the whole package - athletic, smart and a gentleman. Miya was a great catch herself and you were thankful that she was your roommate.

Miya had been your roommate since freshmen year and ever since, you both always wanted to dorm together. Miya was very caring and gentle yet blunt at the same time. You both were awkward beings when you first met, and you were worried how dorm life would be with a stranger.

Thankfully, Miya, being the straightforward person, immediately went out with setting the ground rules together and suggested for a roommate date to get to know each other.

The rest was practically history.

Miya had been there for many of your significant memories in college - the good and the bad.

She was also there when you met Jungkook.

“Do you have any clubs in mind?”

“Actually, I do. I’m planning to sign up for track.”

Miya gasped and giggled in excitement, “No way, I want to join track too!”

“That’s cool! Shall we head over then?”

The two of you made your way to the track and field booth, sharing about what events you partake in. Miya was a hurdler while you weren’t. Nonetheless, it was pretty amazing to you two that you were both signing up for the track team.

“Hey freshies! Here to sign up?”

The two of you converse with the seniors to learn more about the try-outs and practice sessions.

“Psst,” Miya nudged you as you filled up the sign-up form, “On your left. Isn’t he cute?”

Your gaze turned to see a tall, buff boy, who seemed to be signing up for track as well. “He’s pretty cute.”

“I’m going to say hi. Wait for me.” Miya winked at you before approaching the boy - little did she know at that time that he was going to be her boyfriend.

“See you try-outs!” You smiled at the senior as you handed the form.

Your eyes wandered around the nearby booths as you waited for Miya to come back.

“I’ll just look around.” You mouthed at her when she turned to make eye contact with you.

“Hey! Interested to join Photography club?”

“Freshies! Come join the Badminton club!”

The atmosphere was completely chaotic with seniors shouting at the top of their lungs to promote their club. Slightly disoriented from the ruckus, you had bumped into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry—“

“So sorry about that—“

The two of you took a step back to meet each other’s eyes. “Sorry about that.” The black-haired boy gave a sheepish grin as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was kinda too excited to sign up for a club.”

“No worries, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t looking.”

“All’s good. B-But… Any chance that you happen to know where the track and field club booth is at?”

Your eyes widened slightly in amusement, “Yea I do. I was just about to head back to meet my friend.”

“Oh! Could I follow you there?”

“Sure.”

Your eyes took a quick once-over, it wasn’t hard to notice that his built was athletic, donned in sweats and an oversize black shirt, this guy looked like the poster boy of college dudes.

“My name’s Jungkook. What’s yours?”

“Yn. Did you run track before college?”

“Yep, I do 4x100s.”

“Oh, same here!” You flashed a smile. “Wow, what a coincidence that I’d bump into you huh.” Jungkook chuckled and you did the same. “Must be a sign that we’ll both be teammates.”

“Not a bad sign at all.”

“Yn!” Miya waved her hand wildly amidst the crowd. “I was about to leave the booth to go find you! What booths did you— Oh hi, I’m Miya, you are?”

“Jungkook. Nice to meet you. You must be the friend yn was going back for.”

Miya gave you a subtle look which you chose to ignore that day.

“Jungkook,” Miya grinned, “It’s nice to meet you too!”

“Speaking of the party, yn, you know Jungkook will be there as well, right?”

“Yes, this is the tenth time you’ve told me that.”

“Sorry, just another reminder before we pull up to the party.”

Besides having a ton of workload to do, you also had another reason for having second thoughts.

That reason was Jungkook.

“Thanks for your concern. But it’s been a year, I’m long over it.”

“That’s great to hear, I’m proud of you yn.” Namjoon piped in as he parked the car. “And we,” He placed his hand on Miya’s, “Should trust our friend’s word.”

Miya glanced at you before sighing, “Alright. I do. Now, let’s go greet the birthday boy.”

The three of you left the car and made your way to the party venue. The birthday boy was clearly loaded as the venue was huge. You jaw dropped in awe, “Why is this party so extravagant?”

“Good thing our birthday gifts are more drinks.” Miya nudged you and you laughed, nodding your head.

You were all greeted with blaring music from the stereo and neon lights to add into the ambience. People had already begun drinking and some were busy eating dinner.

“Yn!! I missed you!” A very familiar voice erupted as you spotted a figure rushing towards you.

“Hoseok!” You grinned, extending your arms out for a hug.

“You didn’t come to my party!” He pouted as he pulled away. “But I visited the next day as a surprise!” You defended yourself.

“That’s true… Still feels like forever since I saw you.” Hoseok pulled you back in for a hug.

The four of you made your way to one of open rooms which had been turned into a buffet area. You had helped yourself to the wide array of food and found a table to eat with your friends.

“We have a new hurdler joining us. He’s our batch but he only joined the club this try-out round.” Namjoon filled you in since you were the only non-hurdler in your group.

“Oh, who is it?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait, Kim Taehyung? Isn’t he from table tennis?”

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, “Guess he wanted to try something new. I was there during try-outs and he’s a really fast runner.”

—

Since it was a huge party and you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you didn’t need to spend the night entertaining the main character of the night.

To make full use of the amenities at the booked venue, the four of you started playing different rounds of games.

You were paired with Hoseok against Miya and Namjoon. The first round was charades and you lost to them. Hoseok found the game Just Dance and proposed it as the next round.

Jungkook had not been on your mind the entire night as you busied yourself playing games with your friends.

“What else can you do?!” Miya exclaimed, stepping in front to take over Hoseok’s spot.

“More like what else can you not do?! That was amazing!” You pulled Hoseok in for hug, “We’re gonna win this. Get ready to treat us for a meal!”

Namjoon chuckled, “We have to do another game after this. Hoseok basically created the game Just Dance. He followed the moves to easily.”

“Don’t whine, just dance!” Hoseok teased, pulling you back on the couch as you both watched Miya and Namjoon do their round.

“Didn’t want to ruin the mood but… He’s watching.” Hoseok leaned in to whisper in your ear. Your eyes slowly wandered around the venue to spot a familiar figure hanging around a crowd of people.

You both made eye contact and you decided to cast a smile at his direction. In return, you received a quick and small smile before he looked away, completely avoiding your direction.

“That went well.”

“Give him time.”

“Hobi,” you deadpanned, “I’m pretty sure one year is a lot of time.”

Hoseok just shrugged, “I know but… Okay, I have nothing to say to defend him.”

You chuckled, turning your attention back to Miya and Namjoon, “You don’t have to defend him.”

“He’s my close friend too.”

“I know, and I feel bad that you have to split yourself in half every time—“

“No, no,” Hoseok nudged you to get that thought off your mind, “I don’t feel that way. Besides, I met the two of you on separate occasions as well. Please don’t feel guilty about anything.”

You gave him a thankful smile, “Thanks Hobi.”

The Just Dance bet ended with your landslide victory thanks to Hoseok’s hidden dance skills.

Namjoon insisted for another game to even the playing field and Hoseok went out to the backyard to set up the beer pong table. Miya and Namjoon had gone to the kitchen to grab the cups and drinks and you had volunteered to grab more titbits to snack on.

Thanks to your luck, Jungkook had busied himself with filling his plate with snacks as well.

“Hey.”

Jungkook jumped upon heading your voice, quickly steadying the plate on his hand. “H-Hey.”

“How’s the party going?”

You attempted to start a conversation with him as you grabbed a plate yourself. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat, “It’s a huge party… H-How about— Are you enjoying it?”

“Yea, there’s tons of things to do. How about you?”

“Yea.” Jungkook fiddled with one of the serving scoops. You pressed your lips in a tight smile, recognising the awkward atmosphere engulfing the both of you.

It hurt you to know Jungkook was still feeling awkward around you. It always reminded you that you had made the wrong choice. That you had ruined everything between the two of you.

“Right, I guess I’ll head off first. See you at practice?”

“Yea… See you around.” Jungkook nodded his head, his gaze locked on the table filled with snacks as you left the area, feeling dejected from your encounter.

“What’s with the long face?” Hoseok asked as you approached your group. You looked up to meet his eyes and he immediately knew, sighing as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still feels like it is.”

-

“Is it just me or am I still hungover from the party?”

You laughed, “You had a whole Sunday to rest.”

Miya sighed as she started doing hip circles. “I know, I must be getting old.”

“You probably are. Anyway, where is Namjoon?”

Just as you had asked, you heard his voice calling you and Miya. The both of you turned to see Namjoon heading over your direction with someone unfamiliar next to him. Namjoon was goofily waving his hands to grab your attention while pointing to the male next to him.

As they got closer, you managed to recognise the person next him. It was Kim Taehyung. He was popular in college because he was very talented at table tennis. It shocked you when Namjoon said he had joined the track team as a hurdler.

“You two must be Miya and Yn. I’m Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake.

With a light smile, you reached out to return the handshake. Taehyung had a welcoming aura around him. He had a friendly and approachable vibe. He was tall, athletic, and good looking.

“So, what made you join track?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s our last year in college, wanted to try something different.”

“Hope you like it here.”

Taehyung glanced back at you, casting a boxy grin your way, “I think I will.”

The coach blew their whistle to grab everyone’s attention. Everyone made their way to the centre of the field to start physical training. Training started with light warm-ups before rounds around the track.

While running, Taehyung was happily chatting away with you to get to know you better. “That sucks, so you’re not a hurdler?”

“Nope, I do 4x100s.”

“So, I’ll only get to see you once a week.” Taehyung pouted and you chuckled, “You can see me on other days.”

Track had 3 sessions a week - one combined with everyone and two within your own events. The combined session was physical training for all, hence why you were running rounds with a hurdler by your side.

“I’ll take that up!” He winked at you before speeding up slightly, “Catch me if you can!”

From behind, Jungkook watched you and Taehyung converse with a scowl on his face.

Why were you even talking while jogging? Was Taehyung flirting with you?

He used to be the one disturbing you during these rounds.

Jungkook tried to shrug off the scene of you and Taehyung together, ignoring the bitter feeling growing in his chest.

-

“Don’t feel bad. You’re sick, I’ll bring up some food for you.” You grabbed your student ID and phone as you insisted that Miya stayed in bed. Casting you a weak smile, she thanked you as you left your dorm to head off to the dining hall.

You lucked out when you saw Jungkook standing at the end of the queue, scrolling through his phone. With a deep breathe in as you made your way to join the queue. “Hey.” You gave a cautious greeting towards his way. Jungkook’s heart jumped, his grip tightening on his phone as he looked up to see you smiling at him.

“Hey.”

Jungkook hated how awkward he felt with you. It never used to be that way. Then again, that was a year ago.

You also never understood why Jungkook was the one avoiding you when you were the one who got rejected.

“Today was fun.” Jungkook gave you a toothy grin, “Yea it was.”

“Definitely my new favourite restaurant. I’m so full!” He playfully patted his stomach and you chuckled, “Looks like I know where to go when you start being grumpy or stressed.”

“That’s easy, you don’t have to take me to that restaurant. I just have to spend time with you and I’m good to go.” He shrugged his shoulders. Your heart fluttered at how nonchalant his words were yet so genuine. You had been thinking about it the entire afternoon, contemplating if it was the right decision. But you knew you had to let it out before it was too late.

“You good?” Jungkook pulled you out from your thoughts. “Mm? Oh yea, I’m good.” Your feet lazily kicked a stone in front of you.

“Hey,” Jungkook stopped walking, gently placing his hand on your arm to turn you around to face him. “You can always tell me something.”

“I know, I’m… I’m just tired that’s all.”

Jungkook pursed his lips together, “How about we head over to my place to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You let Jungkook choose the movie for the night as your head was far away. Jungkook nudged you, shimmying his shoulders. That was always his signal when he offered his shoulder for you to rest on. You gave him a small smile as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

Despite loving Marvel, you found yourself not paying a single ounce of attention to the movie. Jungkook seemed to have noticed that as you weren’t bantering with his small comments to the movie.

You were brought back to reality when you noticed the movie was paused.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up to face Jungkook.

“I was about to ask that.”

“I’m… I’m tired. I think I’ll just head home for the night.”

Jungkook frowned and you had to look away to save yourself from crumbling into pieces.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

You sighed, this was it. You just had to let it out.

“Promise me you won’t hate me?”

“Hate you? Jungkook repeated, “I would never hate you.”

He placed his hand on your knee, encouraging you to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while.” You paused, allowing the words to sink in. You could feel his hand stiffen and you were sure he could hear the loud beating of your heart.

The silence was deafening.

Your confession repeating in both your heads.

As every second dragged on, you started to regret it even more. You had made a terrible mistake and there was no way you could take it back. Life had no re-dos.

“I’m guessing you don’t feel the same way, given the response.” You clicked your tongue together, gathering the courage to look up at him.

Jungkook was lost for words. He would have never expected to hear a confession from you that night. From his closest friend. From his best friend.

Your words left a funny feeling in him that night, but he could not tell whether it was a good or bad feeling.

“Well, don’t worry.” You forced a laugh, “I didn’t expect much anyway. I just wanted to let it out. But I’m guessing I just ruined our friendship.”

“N-No, uh… I just… I just need time to… to absorb all of this.”

You nodded your head, “I understand.” You took it as a cue to get up from the couch, Jungkook’s eyes following your figure. “I’ll see myself out. Sorry for ruining the night.”

“T-Text me when you made it home safely.” Jungkook called out as you headed for the door.

Terrible. Even after ruining your friendship, Jungkook was still looking out for you. You hated how that made you feel. You turned around to face him one more time, a smile plastered on your face.

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

It pained Jungkook to see you holding back your tears. If he could have another chance to replay that night. He would’ve stopped you from leaving, he would’ve told you that your friendship wasn’t ruined.

He would’ve done anything he could that night to stop you from leaving his life.

But in reality, he did none of those.

When you texted him that night that you were home, your message was left unread.

You took it as a message to give him time to process everything. A night turned into a day. A day turned into a week. A week turned into a month. A month turned into a year.

It was because of your confession, you both had become strangers once again.

“Yn!”

“Oh, hi Tae!”

Despite using his phone, Jungkook’s attention was on your conversation with Taehyung. You were already calling him ‘Tae’? Since when were you that close with him?

“Namjoon told me Miya’s sick. She alright?”

“Yep, just grabbing food for her so she can take her meds and rest.”

“Need my help?”

“Oh no, all’s good.”

Taehyung nudged you, “It’s alright, you have to get your own food too. I’ve already eaten, I can help carry her food up to your dorm, check up on her as well.”

“Sure, if you’re free, that is.”

“Free for you.” He teased and you laughed, looking away momentarily to see Jungkook who seemed to be invested in his phone.

“Oh, Jungkook! Didn’t recognise you at first. How’ve you been?”

Jungkook looked up to greet Taehyung, “H-Hey, I’ve been well.”

Ever since meeting Taehyung, he got along with your group easily. In fact, he got along with everyone effortlessly. He knew almost everyone in the track team only after 2 weeks. That meant only 2 combined sessions. Somehow along the way, it seemed that he had introduced himself to Jungkook as well.

Taehyung was amazing with people and that was admirable. The more you got to know Taehyung, the more you looked forward to hanging out with him.

“See you next practice!” Taehyung happily patted Jungkook’s shoulders goodbye as you two went off a different direction towards your dorm.

You barely register their conversation as your head was somewhere else, recalling the night you had confessed.

“Hey, are you okay?” Taehyung’s concerned voice made you look up to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

Taehyung frowned, glancing behind to see Jungkook looking at the two of you walking away. Jungkook shook his head, quickly glancing away as Taehyung caught him looking.

“Something to do with Jungkook, perhaps?”

Taehyung was very observant and you knew you couldn’t fool him as well.

“Sort of… We just used to be close but... He’s been avoiding me and I’ve been trying to salvage whatever’s left. But it doesn’t seem to be working.”

Taehyung pursed his lips together, “It’s not fair if only one party is putting in the effort, you know.”

“I know, it’s just that… We used to be close.” You sighed as you stepped into the elevator with him, your gaze on your tray of food.

“Still, it’s not worth salvaging if you’re the only one putting in the effort. I’m sure you’ve done your best. Sometimes, you just can’t force things to happen.”

As the elevator opened to your level, you allowed his words to sink in.

“Miya! We come with food!” Taehyung grinned, bringing the tray to your sick roommate as she thanked the two of you for your help.

Your eyes trailed to Taehyung who was helping Miya grab her medicine and a glass of water.

Maybe Taehyung was right. Maybe it’s time to stop trying.

[emikochan]

Nordic 5 with the s/o wanting to learn their language but with a slight twist, the s/o wanting to try and learn their language but they fear they won’t be able or good enough to if that makes sense.

I'm so hyped for this. Thanks for the request, Cat-chan!🌸

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Norway:

"You can do this, (y/n)."

"Hell no, Lukas. I'll make a fool out of myself"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in a protective manner. Today, the market place seemed to be louder than ever before. It seemed to be buzzing with life and it was loud. What if the old man at the candy stall couldn't hear you and you had to repeat yourself awkwardly? What if he understood the wrong thing and accidently had you insulting his mother or something like that? The risk of messing up was just too damn high.

"Just go for it"

"No!" Cold fingers suddenly entangled with yours and you looked up to see him right by your side, looking down at you.

"We'll go together. If you mess up, I'm right there to correct it. You don't have to be afraid."

With a gulp you snuggled a bit closer to Lukas' side and you two approached the friendly old man, that welcomed you two with a warm smile.

"Hei"

"Hei" your eyes scanned the cute wooden boxes that were filled with sweets. They finally locked with the cute fish shaped candy that Lukas adored so much.

"Unnskyld, hvor mye koster det?" ( Sorry, how much does it cost?)

"20 stk koster 5 kroner" he replied and you felt Lukas' hand squeeze yours as an encouragement to go on.

"Det vil jeg gjerne" ( I'd like to have that) you felt a bit of sweat form on your forehead as you flashed him an unsure smile.

The old man nodded and packed your candy in a cute bag before handing it over to you. You gave the good man his money, bid him farewell and took a deep breath as you two went on your way.

"You did well, elskede." Lukas' lips had the softest tug of a smile at their corners and you felt your heart soar, a triumphant smile coming around your lips as well.

~~~~~

Denmark:

His lips covered your neck in thousand kisses. His breath sent shivers down your spine every few seconds and his soft touches left you yearning for more.

"Jeg elsker deg, (y/n)" he whispered and your clouded mind contemplated on wether you should say it or not.

Mikkel went on to whisper way more intimate things, that usually didn't show that much of an effect on you, since you couldn't understand a word. Today you blushed a bright red though.

Struck by surprise your eyes widened slightly. You actually understood some bits and pieces of the dirty things he growled. During the last few weeks you wondered if your lessons even had any effect on you but it's good to know that all of your efforts weren't in vain.

Maybe you weren't doing as bad as you thought you did?

Having enough of him being so cocky, you placed both hands on his shoulders and flipped him onto the bed with you on top of him.

"Hvad siger du, skat?" (What are you saying, darling?" you asked with a smirk and had the confident Dane under you with his eyes wide as little plates and an open mouth staring up at you in awe.

Mikkel didn't let you leave the bed that night and continues to beg you to speak more Danish even weeks after that.

~~~~

Sweden:

You actually caught him by surprise when he talked to his boss on the phone. He was so occupied with his thoughts that he accidently talked to you in Swedish.

You just finished your lessons for that day and were just as occupied with your thoughts as he was, so you replied in Swedish without even noticing it first. It took Berwald a few seconds after hanging up until he truly realized it.

"(y/n)? I didn't know you picked up so much Swedish." You blinked until the realization hit you too.

"Oh... well... it wasn't that good. I'm suprised you actually understood me." you started while fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"No, you almost sounded like a native. You're doing very well." he simply stated.

A straightforward man that states the blunt truth. That's why you loved him and his compliment made you smile brightly.

"Tak för det" (Thank you for that)

~~~~

Finland:

What on earth have you done to yourself.

Your hands were clasped over your head, smoke seemed to come out of your ears and your tired eyes could barely focus on the sheer endless lines of words and phrases that literally never.found.an.end anymore.

You were literally "Vapisee kuin haavan lehti" – which is something like "To tremble like the leaf of an aspen tree" or something around that gist- God you don't even know anymore.

"Rakas, are you finished with that project of yours?" A certain Finnish man peeked behind the opening door and found your exhausted body slumped over the desk with big tears swelling up in your eyes and his smile instantly fell. He came rushing to you in an instant

"Oh Hani, what's wrong? Did...did the project go so bad?"

You couldn't answer as you began to sob uncontrollably, the deep feeling of disappointment rising up in you since you totally failed to learn Finnish. Even the basics were too difficult to keep inside that damn head of yours and it just frustrated you to no end.

His hand was quick to rub your back in a comforting manner, while his other hand quickly ripped out a tissue from your desk's tissue box. His eyes fell on the several pieces of paper that lay spread all across the wooden surface. He instantly recognized it as his mother tongue and his eyes widened in astonishment as he noticed your handwriting, that apparently wrote all of those texts and notes down.

"Finnish?" he asked and picked one of the sheets up to examine it closer.

"Puhutko suomea?" ( Do you speak Finnish?) he asked you softly and you simply shook your head.

"I tried, ok. I tried but I just don't get it, it's just too much."

He frowned but it was directed to himself, not you. He nodded and pressed a kiss on your head as he continued to skip through the papers that you finished during the last hours.

"Rakas, you don't have to do this for me. I know how hard my language is, you don't-"

"But it wouldn't be fair! You learnt English and it would be just to at least try and learn your language too!" you exclaimed and he was taken aback for a second before smiling softly.

"Calm, sweetie, calm. How about we take a break today? Let's do a fun trip tomorrow and learn some easier vocabs than this."

That sounded good enough for you to finally calm down, go downstairs to sit on the couch with him and sob your heart out on Tinos shoulder. You confessed your frustration, hate and insecurity towards this new challenge and Tino listened and responded with nothing but reasurance, compassion and love all night long. He'll help you, don't worry.

~~~~~

Iceland:

Gosh, that dude started getting on your nerves. He was really testing your patience with his endless pestering and horrible pick-up lines in broken English that just made you cringe.

You just wanted to wait for Emil to come back from the bathroom so that you two could finally go the rollercoaster but this random guy just wouldn't leave you alone. His English was so bad that he didn't understand your rejection completely and just went on with his pestering, so you had nothing to lose, right?

You had enough.

"Ég er giftur! Drullaðu þér í burtu!" ( I am married! Shit yourself away/Beat it!) you hissed and the stranger took a few steps back before throwing his hands up in the air and finally disappearing.

You huffed and hoped he got the message, Emil most certainly heard it.

"What got you so worked up?"

You turned around in shock and instantly felt shame coming up in you as you locked eyes with the familiar pair of violet orbs. You wanted to improve your icelandic in secret and eventually surprise your beloved boyfriend by saying something nice to him and now the first things he ever heard you say in his native tongue were horrible swear words.

You sunk your head in shame.

"You know, we're not married...yet. But I liked that part very much" he said while placing his gloved hand on your chin to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry. I...wanted it to be perfect when I talk to you" you confessed with sadness still lacing your beautiful voice.

"Sounded perfect enough. Now let's go" Emil wrapped his arm around your waist and gently guided you away from the bathroom stalls.

He's really, really proud of you; don't think he didn't mean what he said simply because he kept the same expression the entire time.

[lost-stargazer-girl]

|| A Step at a Time ||

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: eventual!OcxOikawa

Word Count for this Chapter: 2544

*Author’s Note at the end and listings for other chapters*

Chapter 4: Hidden Persona

Two children lay in tranquility at a beautiful park. The dark haired girl’s head lays on the boy’s lap as she reads, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and the tip of a tongue sticking out in concentration. The boy gazes at her with fond, golden eyes as he lays back contently, arms cushioning his head as he serenely cloud gazes. It is a rare moment of peace for the two of them, one they are wholeheartedly willing to cherish and bask in. 

The solid slam of a book jolts Bokuto Koutarou from his daze as Kagami shoots up from her position. He doesn’t bother getting up, only staring at her side profile and waiting for her next move. Koutarou knows it isn’t anything serious from the way her body remains loose and relax. She suddenly swivels her head towards him so quickly that he worries, for a moment ,that she’ll get whiplash. It wouldn’t be the first time she does something to make herself sick.

Kagami pins Koutarou with a piercing, crimson stare as she exclaims, “Kou-chan, we should go hang out at your house someday!” The girl’s eyes have that rare shine that soften the usually hardened, ruby eyes. However, even with the presence of his friend’s excitement, Koutarou stiffens and his eyes dull slightly to an unhappy yellow instead of the brilliant gold Kagami usually sees. She recognizes that stare, she realizes, feeling a sudden drop in her stomach and begins mentally berating herself for not noticing before. The sadness in his eyes, the loneliness.

The boy shuts his eyes gently before taking a deep breathe, “Mom and Dad aren’t home very often. They work a lot, so I understand, really. But,” Koutarou shivers slightly, “the house gets too quiet with only me in there. It’s nice out here with you. The quiet never feels cold.” There’s a slight pause after his confession and Koutarou feels his face heat up. He’s never told anyone his situation before because he didn’t want them to judge his family or pity him. He’s fine with it, he understands. 

Suddenly, he feels tiny arms awkwardly wrap themselves around his waist and then his air supply is cut off. He flails for a few seconds, emitting incoherent sounds from both the lack of oxygen and his surprise. Kagami remains oblivious to this as she hugs her friend tighter, whispering an apology once. Just once. 

As soon as she says the words, Koutarou is bewildered to find himself gasping and floundering for breathe like a fish on the green grass of the park. He clutches his chest and closes his eyes in an effort to ground himself as his breathing steadies. Kagami always surprises him. She’s always been reserved with her touches and never apologizes. In the year since the incident at the park and their first meeting, he never hears her apologize for her actions, regardless of the seriousness or magnitude of it. 

“What,” he gasps roughly, “was that for?! Are you trying to kill me?” He slits one aureate eye toward the girl, only to find her form shaking from the effort of repressing her laughter at his predicament. He playfully growls at her failure of an attempt to save his pride and keep her composure.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice has both children jumping to their feet, smiles falling off their faces, “what are you guys doing?” Koutarou discretely places himself slightly in front of Kagami, who huffs at him in irritation but says nothing. He asses the boy who stands in front of them, he’s tall with hooded eyes that give him a catlike appearance and oddly spiked, black hair. He has his hands on his hips with a black eyebrow raised above a questioning hazel gaze. Koutarou takes note of the ball tucked in the crook of the unfamiliar boy’s elbow. 

The golden eyed boy relaxes marginally when he feels the slight weight of a delicate hand on his shoulder. He exhales and steps slightly to the side for his friend. “Hi,” she greets the boy brightly, “I’m Akane Kagami and this overbearing misfit is Bokuto Koutarou. It’s nice to meet you!”Kagami shoots a hand out, gripping her friend’s head as she forces him into a bow of greeting with her. She ignores his welp of pain and quickly releases him when the two straighten their backs. 

“Ah,” the boy inclines his head slightly towards the two, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s nice to meet you as well Akane-san. Bokuto-kun seems like a loss cause in terms of manners, though.” His catlike eyes are glittering with poorly masked amusement as Koutarou’s face explodes in indignation. Kagami only sighs in exasperation at him as she levels Tetsurou with a tired smile, sensing his purpose. 

“Yeah,” she sighs dramatically, “I’ve known him for a whole year, and he hasn’t changed one bit.” She glances at the boy in question and has to shoot her hand up quickly to muffle the uncontrollable laughter from his gaping face. 

Koutarou crosses his arms petulantly and pouts, feels an itch growing at the back of his throat. He opens his mouth and surprises himself as his voice shouts out, “Hey, hey, hey! Stop dissing someone as awesome as me!” At his declaration, Kagami falls to the floor in tears as she laughs at his response. Koutarou takes the scene in for a moment, aware of observant eyes watching him. He’s never seen his friend this carefree, sure, there are moments when the two don’t feel any tension and can just relax. But, this is different. Kagami is happy. And because of him. He grins in victory and thinks that, maybe, he’ll adopt that catchphrase if this is the reaction he’ll always get. 

“As cute as this scene is,”Tetsurou purrs, “I wanted to ask you guys something.” Kagami stops rolling around on the grass and peers up at the boy with joyful, carmine eyes. Bokuto even looks at the boy with slight curiosity. The two friends are not very open nor social, it’s a first for them to have someone approach them. Surprisingly, the catlike boy looks off to the side with red creeping up his neck as he awkwardly rubs his neck with his free hand. “Well, I saw you guys kind of sitting here alone. My friend went home early today, so I was wondering if you wanted to play volleyball with me.” He shyly holds the red, green, and white boy out to the two, who glance at each other in surprise and delight. They turn back towards their new friend and nod their heads frantically. Tetsurou whoops in delight and runs off to find a court, knowing the two would follow. 

… 

Kagami finds herself on the stands of the Seijoh gym, watching the volleyball team practice with increasing annoyance. It’s not really Oikawa-senpai that bothers her. After the initial confrontation, with Hajime dropping the figurative ball onto Oikawa-senpai’s head and leaving him stuck gaping at their forms, the girl quietly slides past him to the stands. She’s relatively near the coaches and can hear all their anecdotes on the team, but she’s still unsatisfied. 

Hajime and Oikawa-senpai are not in this particular practice game, but she is still disappointed by the performance of the third years. True, the Spring Tournament is over and they just want to play one more game before focusing on studies, but Kagami is close to tearing her obsidian locks out of her scalp. Her eyes narrow as she watches a player side jump in order to block an incoming spike and drops her head into her hands helplessly as the spiker easily avoids the blocker and scores a point.

Kagami releases another sigh as she wonders just how her school is one of the best with the condition their defense is. The team relies too much on their libero and not enough on strategizing their blocks, she internally groans. The libero could only dig up so many spikes before their stamina dies. 

She feels a burning sensation run along the back of her neck, someone is watching her. Chancing a glance to where the second and first years are waiting, she catches a glimpse of amusement within olive eyes. She gives Hajime her best withering glare and curses the years they have been friends as her venomous stare seems to have little effect on the second year, only causing him to laugh at her predicament. 

While Hajime distracts her with their childish, silent squabbles, Coach Irihata plunks himself down relatively near the new girl Iwaizumi brought to practice. He admits that her presence sparks his attention, especially when he realizes she is not another one of the mindless girls who know nothing about volleyball and come to gush over his second year setter, Oikawa-kun. While the team may not realize it, not even the brunette setter who is famous for his observational skills and perception, they need to improve a great deal more in all aspects of volleyball if they want to win against Shiratorizawa. Especially on blocks and serves. So when he hears continuous sighs at every point a mediocre block or action is done, he becomes curious. Then finds surprise filling his mind as he watches the girl look on at the team’s practice with disappointment and frustration. 

“So,” the man begins gently. He quietly chuckles as Kagami whips her crimson gaze to meet his own calm, dark brown eyes. “You seem to know a bit about volleyball.” The coach gauges her reaction and raises an eyebrow as he watches her eyes dull to a deep maroon as she shakes her head. Well, from her closeness with Iwaizumi, the coach thinks the blunt and straightforward way would work better with her. He smiles kindly as he states, “I saw your reactions to the third years’ game, you didn’t seem very impressed.” Coach Irihata begins to outright laugh as the girl’s head begins to shake side to side rapidly. “By the way, Miss, what’s your name?”

The dark haired teen stops her frantic shaking and smiles nervously, hands wringing in her lap, “Ah,” she stands, slightly wobbly, and politely bows to the man, “I’m Akane Kagami, sir. Please, pardon my intrusion on your team’s practice.” The girl straightens her back and moves to sit back down, relief palpable on her face though it is not seen by the man.

Coach Irihata hums, that name sounds familiar, but he just can’t remember where he may have heard it from. “I’m Irihata Nobuteru, the Head Coach of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball club. Have you played any sports before, Akane-san?” It’s a good question. One that could reveal where he’s heard her name from and her apparent knowledge of volleyball.

Kagami immediately sees the attempt at getting more information out of her. She flashes a secretive smile at the man, “No, not really,” she states gently, voice soft with faux openness. The coach observes her for a moment before laughing jovially, aware his attempts would most likely get him nowhere.

“Well, my girl, you certainly are a sharp one,” he pauses in his laughter and turns back to the game once more. Feeling that the conversation is over, Kagami does the same. However, she is still unable to hold back her winces at the amateur technique the players are displaying. Good teamwork, though, she notes as a particular combination play scores a point. “What do you think of the games, Akane-san? I’ve been thinking of drills for the remaining members once our third years decide to retire, but I’m not quite sure what to focus on.” Kagami blinks, knowing a bait when she hears one, but she really can’t help herself.

Crimson eyes flit back to the game, observing everything for a moment. Kagami turns back to the coach and slumps in defeat, she may love her privacy, but she cherishes the moment of surprise and accomplishment on the face of someone she’s helped grow. She head hangs low as she reluctantly admits, “Their defense is barely passable, at best. There’s not many people specializing as middle blockers and are serious about it. They tend to lift their arms up without much strength and rely on the receives of the libero. The way the players jump is also something that’s killing their blocks; they’re jumping diagonally for a one touch instead of aiming for a complete shutout or trying to control block by jumping straight up in front of the spiker’s dominant hand. The serves are weak, as well. Their teamwork seems to be able to fill the majority of the holes from the weakness in each individual player, but in order for a team to be strong, the players need to be confident of themselves and their technique.” Kagami’s cheeks are bright red with embarrassment after her rapid explanation of the team’s skill in blocking, it may be a tad bit unfair to judge the first and second years along with their upperclassmen but mimicking those older than you happens more often than not. She glances at the Head Coach and squeaks in mortification at his wide stare. She immediately jumps to her feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in her knee from the sudden motion, and bows in apology.

Coach Irihata snaps out of his daze at the sight of a wince on Akane-san’s face right before she bows to him. He slowly stands in front of her, causing her to look up at his kind eyes in confusion. However, all the man does is place his hands on her shoulders and guide her back to her seat on the stands. He gently pats her shoulder with one hand and chuckles in a grandfatherly way, “It really did not bother me, Akane-san. I was only surprised you were able to pick out the flaws in their defense so easily! We’ve been a powerhouse for years with eyes constantly watching our every play and movement, but I don’t think anyone has ever seen through our team so quickly before!” The coach sits back down and crosses his arms as an amused smile grows on his face, “You sure you’ve never played volleyball before? Those observations and tips seem pretty detailed, it’s almost like you knew how to look for flaws like those in my boys’ defense!”

Kagami chuckles nervously, breath catching in her throat as she rubs the back of her neck with a shaking hand in embarrassment. She chances a glance at Hajime, hoping to find a reassuring gaze, but wilts as she notices his rapt attention on the third years’ game. Her gaze shoots back towards the coach, who is watching her with a raised eyebrow as he waits for her response. She allows a thin smile to stretch across her face, “Ah, I really don’t play volleyball but a few of my friends do. I just learned what to look for after watching their games and practices back in middle school.” There is definitely more to it than that, but Kagami is unwilling to divulge her entire story to this man, regardless of how kind he is. 

The man hums thoughtfully, gaze turning skyward in seemingly deep thought. Without looking at her, he asks, “Would you like to be our manager?”

Author’s Note

Guys, I am so so sorry for not getting this chapter out on time, please forgive me!!! My English teacher just gave us 3 overlapping projects right when we came back for break and I’ve just been super busy! One of these projects is to write 20 poems, and I actually centered most of them around Haikyuu and other animes... Would you guys like me to post them? Anywho, I’ve actually made a posting schedule: During the school session, I will be posting on Sunday night/early Monday morning. During school breaks (winter, spring, ect) I will be posting at least 2x a week. And during summer break, expect 3-4 posts a week!!!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!!

~ Prologue ~ Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~

[permets-tu-not-permettez-vous]

This Side of Paradise

Chapter One: Lost on You 

Cosette turned her key one last time, hoping against hope that her banged up Subaru would start. Nothing. Cosette let out a huff of frustration. This was just the last of a number of stunningly mediocre things that had accumulated to make it an altogether terrible day. First, she had spilled scalding coffee on her way to work, leaving large stains on her blouse that most likely wouldn’t come out. When she got to work, she found she had forgotten to bring an extra blouse from the last time it happened so she had to wear the shirt all day. There was a pep rally which meant the kids were antsy all day and her class times were shorter. And to finish it all off, they had a department meeting after school that had been not only absolutely pointless, but frustratingly boring. All she had wanted to do was head home and grade papers in bed. Well, in all honesty, she just wanted to watch some Jane Austen film in bed, but these papers needed to be graded, and so there was no way around it. Cosette rested her forehead on the steering wheel, working up the energy to call her dad, hoping that he would know what to do. Cosette had no idea where to even start with cars. She was definitely adding wine to her paper grading that night. She deserved it after this shitstorm of a day.

A knock on her window startled her so much that she accidentally hit the horn and her car beeped. Cosette blushed and looked out her window to see a dark-haired and absolutely stunning woman leaning down to peer through the window. She was wearing a leather jacket, had several piercings poking through her ears, and caramel eyes that rested under sharply defined brows. She was clearly trying not to laugh at Cosette’s embarrassment at being startled, which only grew as she saw how hot her audience was. She rolled down her window.

“Your car isn’t starting?” Her voice was deep and curling, like whiskey. Cosette nodded, unable to find her voice. The woman’s smile broke through her resolve, and it transformed her face. “Hi, I’m Eponine. I teach welding and shop. I could take a look at it for you.”

Cosette willed herself to form some coherent sentences. “Hi Eponine. I’m Cosette. It’s nice to meet you. I am also a teacher, in the English department.”

Eponine smirked. “I know,” she said as her eyes tracked over her, and Cosette felt like she was being examined. Eponine knew about her? She reminded herself not to read too much into it.

“I guess it is a pretty small school. I’m new here. Just started this year.”

“Well, welcome. Now, let me have at your car.” Cosette remembered that before Eponine showed up she was having a terrible day. Now it seemed her day was looking up. Cosette jumped into action, bustling out of her car. Standing next to Eponine, she came up to her shoulder. She tried not to let on that she was sizing Eponine up, but she was too focused on the task at hand. She got into the car, turned the key and examined the inner workings of the car, leaving the door open. Then she got out, tracked to the front and opened her hood. Cosette stood there mute, trying to think of good conversation starters, but she kept getting distracted by the focused look on Eponine’s face, a thin line appearing between her eyebrows as she pursed her lips. How had she never noticed her before?

Eponine nodded to herself, almost the way a scientist did at the conclusion of a successful experiment. She moved back around to Cosette, brushing her hands one against the other to clean them up somewhat. “You’re battery is dead. Did you leave your lights on this morning? Your light signal was on in the car.”

Cosette groaned, putting a hand over her forehead. “I must have. It was such a crazy morning. I was running late and had spilled coffee all over myself. I must have forgotten about the lights in the middle of everything. I feel so silly for forgetting.”

Eponine smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. We all do it, even me, though I don’t like to brag about it as the shop teacher. It’s an easy fix. Just let me bring my car around and I’ll jump it for you.”

“Thank you so much!” Eponine shrugged off the thanks and headed across the parking lot. Cosette tapped out a quick message to her dad explaining the situation, telling him that one of her teacher friends who knew about cars was helping her so that her dad didn’t immediately get in the car and drive over himself. Cosette heard a car approaching and looked up to see Eponine driving a green pickup her way. Cosette’s lips quirked upwards. She had to say that the car fit her personality, or at least the parts of her personality that she could surmise from looking at her. But they did paint a pretty poignant picture.

Eponine hopped out, and made quick work out of the jumper cables. She had Cosette get in and turn on her car, which whirred to life under Eponine’s watchful eye. Cosette could feel a smile break out on her face. Eponine met her eyes, and it seemed that a spark passed between them. Eponine looked away quickly and Cosette guessed she must have imagined it, but her eyes lingered on her profile anyway. She came to a decision.

“Hey,” she said, practically jumping out of her car in her haste, wanting to prolong this moment, to bask in Eponine’s presence. Eponine looked up, surprised by the urgency in Cosette’s voice. “Let me buy you a drink. Goodness knows after a day like today I need one, and it looks better if I don’t drink alone. Plus, I really want to thank you for helping me out. You made what could have been a really shitty experience for me pretty bearable.”

Eponine considered it, her head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed. Again, Eponine got the feeling that she was being observed, was being measured against some yardstick in Eponine’s head that determined the safety and interest levels that Cosette presented. Finally she nodded, tucking a flyaway dark curl behind her ear. “I’d love to. Anything to avoid you ending your night alone at a bar. The only question is what to do about your car.”

“There I defer to your expertise,” Cosette said with a laugh. She really should learn more about cars.

“Do you live close?” Eponine asked, shoving her hands in her pockets. Cosette tried to pretend that her heart didn’t flutter a little bit at the question.

“Yeah, over on Rue de Rambuteau.”

“Okay, well what if I follow you home, you drop off your car and I drive us to and from. Or if you don’t want to get into the car with a random shop teacher we can get a Lyft.” Eponine had a casual air around her that Cosette envied. Where Cosette would hem and haw and take her time getting to her point, Eponine seemed to be incredibly blunt and straightforward with an attitude that just begged for you to argue with her. Cosette wondered whether that meant their personalities would mesh well or not. She shook herself.

“Well seeing as you haven’t murdered me yet, I would be more than happy to take my first ride ever in a pickup truck from you.”

It was worth it to see the look of absolute shock tinged with horror that appeared on her face. Eponine sputtered, her mouth working without forming any thoughts. Cosette laughed; it was good to see the self-assured and practical attitude broken over a small thing like pick up trucks. “You’re joking,” Eponine said slowly, almost more of a question than a statement. Cosette nodded, laughing. “You were joking,” Eponine repeated.

“So you’ve said,” Cosette said when she caught her breath. Eponine’s disbelief morphed into a genuine laugh, a husky amber peal of laughter that was sexy as hell. Cosette sobered quickly at the sound. “So, you’ll just follow me?” Cosette asked, gesturing towards her car.

Eponine nodded, her smile still blinding, and Cosette hurried to get into her car as Eponine wound up her jumper cables and clambered into her own pickup. Cosette pealed out of her spot effortlessly and automatically headed towards home, hyperconscious of her own driving, and checking her rear view mirror much more often than she probably should. As she drove, she attempted to pull herself together. There was a knot of nerves tightening in her gut, and she felt a little hot. She rolled down the window and let the cool air rush over her face. She took some shaky breaths and tried to swallow several times but her throat stuck. What was she doing? Asking a woman out for drinks? She couldn’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Not that this was a date, she reminded herself sternly before she got too far down that train of that thought.

She pulled into her driveway, and noted that Eponine didn’t follow her; rather, she just pulled over on the street and left the car idling. Cosette ran inside to drop off some of her school stuff and change her coffee-stained blouse. She also applied a subtle layer of lipstick, checking her reflection in the mirror of the entryway. She looked somewhat frazzled, her cheeks flushed and her dark hair slightly limp. She tried pulling her hair into a bun. It accentuated her cheeks better and made her seem less red, more put together. She quickly toed on some cute heels, hoping that Eponine hadn’t gotten tired of waiting and driven off. She also hoped that Eponine didn’t notice she had dressed up for her a bit. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. “You can do this, Cosette,” she told herself sternly, like she imagined her mother might have done when she was younger. Cosette was used to being her own mother in situations like this, being both encouraging and cautious.

She hurried outside and hopped into Eponine’s car, trying not to show what an effort it was to get her shorter frame up into the pickup. Eponine grinned, making Cosette think that she hadn’t been that subtle. “Where to?” she asked.

“Just go down this street, take a right at the corner and then another left when I tell you.”

Eponine smoothly shifted gears and drove down the street. A silence descended. Eponine’s car smelled like lemons and cinnamon. Cosette wondered if that was what Eponine smelled like or if it was a car freshener. She checked the rear view mirror, finding it empty. No air freshner. Cosette wondered if that meant it was Eponine’s smell. She was still wandering down this train of thought when Eponine distracted her. “You live in a nice neighborhood. Cute house.”

“Thanks,” Cosette said, unsure where she was supposed to go with that. “I like cottages. I don’t need a big house.”

Eponine nodded. “I can see that. You seem like that type of person.” Sometimes when people made those kind of generalizations it irritated her, but from Eponine it sounded like a compliment. Or at least she hoped it was.

“Do you live close to here?”

“No, I live the other direction from school with my brother.” Cosette was taken aback. Once people reached their twenties they didn’t really choose to live with their siblings anymore. Not that Cosette really understood sibling dynamics; she had been an only child despite her longing for a larger family than just her and her father. But in the end that’s probably what made them so close - they only had each other.

“You have a brother?”

“I have a brother and a sister,” Eponine clarified. “My sister used to live with us but she went to university last year.” Her voice was tinged with melancholy.

“You must miss her,” Cosette said softly. Eponine just nodded, a tender smile touching her mouth. Cosette stared, she knew she was staring, but seeing that soft smile wreath Eponine’s face made her hands clammy and she had her heart in her throat. She tore her eyes away, looking at the road ahead. “Oh shit, we just passed it!” Cosette exclaimed, a white hot flash of embarrassment searing through her.

Eponine just laughed, and found a parking spot on the side of the road. Cosette flushed and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, hoping that she wasn’t being too obvious about the fact she had almost missed it because she had been staring at Eponine. The woman was gorgeous, sure, but Cosette wasn’t sure if she even swung her way. And even if she did, who's to say that she would like Cosette? They came from different worlds, had different interest. Eponine probably wanted someone who was tough and skated derby or something. Not Cosette, who knit her friends sweaters and spent her evenings baking in slippers. She shoved the thought aside and got out of the car, joining Eponine on the sidewalk.

They entered the bar, the soft mood lighting of the fairy lights illuminating glints of red in Eponine’s dark hair. Cosette swallowed. She hoped that this bar wasn’t too cutesy. Eponine looked like the kind of girl who was at home in a hole in the wall backwater bar. They found a table towards the back next to some leafy green ferns, and Eponine shrugged off her leather jacket and ordered a Bourbon on the rocks with an ease and surety that Cosette envied. She just ordered a glass of red wine and hoped that her hands weren’t visibly shaking.

Why was she so nervous around Eponine? Maybe because it had been ages since she’d been with anyone, since she’d been attracted to anyone even, or the fact that this was a new job, a new town, a new friend. Her life was in such a turmoil at the moment that she barely knew where to start with her emotions.

“So,” Eponine started as their drinks made their way to their table. “How’s it been? Tell me a little about yourself.”

Cosette laughed. “Where to start? I finished my degree a couple years ago and worked a lot of odd jobs while I tried finding a teaching position. This is my first full-time teaching position and I’m doing sophomore English. What about you? You said you do welding?”

Eponin nodded, setting her glass on the table with a clunk. “Yeah. I wasn’t able to go to the college I wanted, but I always loved doing stuff with my hands so I went to a trade school an hour away and was able to get my certification. Been teaching here almost five years.”

Cosette nodded. “And how do you like it here?”

Eponine shrugged. “It’s alright. I kind of feel like there’s a divide between us in the shop and doing vocational kind of stuff and the regular subjects like math and English and science. I mean it’s almost December and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.” Eponine met her eyes, her gaze penetrating, and Cosette felt her heartbeat pick up. She quickly dropped her eyes, hoping she wasn’t blushing too obviously.

“And I you,” Cosette said, almost at a loss for words. The talking wandered to less work-related things, turning to music, hobbies, and favorite movies. Cosette was surprised by the amount of similarities they had. From their outward appearances, she would have guessed that they had little in common. But as she made her way through her glass of red wine and Eponine made her way through several funny shop stories, she felt herself relax in her presence.

Cosette was shocked when Eponine looked down at her phone and swore. “Shit, it’s late and I need to get dinner started for Gavroche.”

Cosette looked at her own phone and was surprised to see that two hours had flown by. She was both elated and disappointed at how well they had passed the time together. Cosette insisted on paying for the drinks since Eponine had rescued her from apparent distress earlier that day and they headed outside into the brisk chill of the night and the muted sounds of traffic. Dusk was falling, and as they strolled down the sidewalk, Cosette could see them doing this for years to come, and for just a minute, she let herself believe that they would.

Eponine drove her home, the darkness descending just as the silence in the car, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Cosette tried desperately to think of something to say. It felt so much like an awkward first date in that moment that she almost forgot it wasn’t. All too soon, they arrived at Cosette’s house.

“Thank you again so much, Eponine. You saved my ass,” Cosette said earnestly, unsure where to put her hands.

Eponine just laughed. “Anytime. Next time do me a favor and remember to turn off your lights.” Cosette nodded laughing, and Eponine held her gaze for just a beat too long. She wanted to kiss her so badly her hands trembled. To see what those full lips tasted like. Instead, she cleared her throat and hopped out of the truck.

Eponine rolled down the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, the right side of her mouth curling up into a smile. Cosette nodded and waved, not sure if she could trust her voice. Eponine sped away, leaving Cosette to watch her go in the twilight. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

AO3 Link 

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E2 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 590 responses! Thank you to everyone who participated. 

Please note that this is the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results! 

Rate the Episode

The vast majority gave the episode their approval, with the largest percentage rating it a five.

Levi vs MP chase blew me away and I didn't remember rest of the show except Linked Horizon.

Animation blew me away and Kenny is better than I had imagined him in the manga.

They made Levi more bishy and badass at the same time. As expected of WIT. I find myself surprised at some of the changes and the new pacing, but I’m just here to enjoy this wild ride, so I’m open to anything. I can’t wait for Frieda to finally appear and confuse the fuck out of anime-onlies.

ep2 has already become my fav episode

It feels rushed. But I can only hope they make up for it later on.

I enjoyed it, especially the fight scene! A lot of things were missing from the manga, but I'm thinking they will be included in a different context. The ED was absolutely perfect! I'm looking forward to the rest of the season.

It was super enjoyable in its own right even if I'm a bit skeptical of the changed pacing.

The animation in this episode was amazing!

Rate the Ending

Respondents have agreed that the ending is a bop, with votes heavily favoring the positive. Feelings were much more mixed for the opening. We’re happy to see that most were at least satisfied with the ending!

I think it's the perfect mood for an ED. I'm really glad Historia got such a great focus; the OP focuses more on several characters an the ED on her.. I like it that way.

It's great! I love Red Swan so much and I'm happy with both songs!

Loved it a lot. You could immediately tell the signature Sounds Horizon influence, which is great. The song’s been stuck in my head for days. I also love the fact that the visuals are Historia-centric.

I don't think it should've been the opening per say......maybe with different visuals but I absolutely loved it. I'm glad that unlike the opening it didn't disappoint.

The Sasageyo in the middle caught me off guard lol

but like why did they have to make me feel so many emotions over that ending tho???

i'm literally in love with the ED it sounds like a fairy tale and i need the full version stat

the ed took me to nirvana

The ending was really beautiful. The animation with little Historia was beautiful because we will see more of Historia. Heck, this is her time to shine. This is her spotlight.

How do you feel about Linked Horizon performing the ending this time?

The majority of respondents are happy that Linked Horizon is back this season, even if it’s the ending instead of the opening. A smaller percentage still wished they had done the opening instead, however.

Who Linked Horizon is?

I hope they perform the opening for the next arc

Ending or opening I wouldn't care. As long as we have Link Horizon.

I'm glad they are still sticking around but I'm still so upset the OP/ED were 100% from some romance high school anime.

Which one is your favorite ED?

Do we as a fandom have a bias toward Linked Horizon? Quite possibly, as the new ending has already captured the hearts of the largest group. Great escape came in second, and Yuuguri no Tori remains the least liked ending of the series.

The new ending is beautiful. The scenario, music, how sad it is considering the recent events in the manga. Beautiful. I've to admit that I prefer by far the ending to the opening.

Which scene(s) did you like best?

It goes without saying that the Levi vs. Kenny/MP chase is what blew away the fandom this week. It was the favorite scene by a huge margin. The runner up was Armin taking aim and shooting in order to save Jean’s life.

I've been waiting five years to see the bar scene, BANG! BANG!

not ashamed to admit I rewatched the Levi vs Kenny chase dozens of times

Favorite anime-only scene: Sasha saved Armin this time, i couldn't be happier for my girl. She ain't useless and definitely not a comic relief, i hope Isayama will do something in the future so that people appreciate &miss her more when 105 is animated.

Also, something I'm loving this season and doesn't receive enough credit is to hear Traute's voice. Her voice sounds so badass. Love it

The animation is so gorgeous and literally jaw dropping. I enjoy absorbing every single second of action. And seeing and hearing the scene of Jean almost being shot and Armin killing somehow has made me officially ship Jearmin.

On a scale of 1-5 how much did the animation during the Levi vs. MP chase blow you away?

As expected, the animation left the majority of respondents in awe. It took one month for the animators to get in that 30 second sequence and it was so worth the efforts of the animation staff!

The Levi fight scene was breathtaking. Genius.

Best animation. Ever. Levi you awesome badass.

On a scale of 1-5, how daddy is Kenny?

While a fair amount of voters wouldn’t let Kenny touch them with a 50 foot poll, a larger portion of voters agree that Kenny is daddy material.

I want Kenny to be my daddy :P

The only thing so far that is completely good is KENNY BANG BANG ACKERMAN! They're making a wonderful job with him and I hope the dudes from Wit studio won't turn him upside-down or change some important scenes. In the end... KENNY IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND COOL UNCLE/COWBOY ON EARTH. I'll always follow him

Kenny is even colder bastard than he was in the manga. I like him!

How did Erwin light the match with one hand?

Will the mystery ever be solved? We don’t know, but the majority of voters are quite certain that Erwin’s chiseled jawline may have something to do with it!

How excited are you to see kidwin’s eyebrow game next week?

61% of respondents are ready to see Kidwin moving and talking. Possibly also the heartbreak that will follow as we watch his backstory unfold. We’re pretty excited for small Erwin too!

Is your heart ready for Historia’s childhood flashback?

The majority of voters are ready for Historia’s “not very happy” backstory to unfold in episode 40. Some are eager, some just think she’s cute as a button and others are ready for their hearts to hurt. About 12% of voters aren’t as enthused, however.

I hope we will finally see Frieda in the next one !

On a scale of 1 - 5, how much do you relate to Bartender-kun?

I think we can almost all agree with the bartender when he says “EEEK!” It’s quite relatable really.

It took 4 years to finally see Bartender-kun in his moe glory and it was beautiful. 10 outta 10 would EEEEKK again.

EEK!

Would you want Levi as your motivational counselor?

68% of you would appreciate Levi’s straightforward and blunt was of saying things in order to help you cope and sort things out. 32%, however, would prefer a more gentler approach.

Does Erwin have a gambling problem?

68% of respondents agree that Erwin’s gambles are a positive thing! The thrill of it all is quite a ride for both the Survey Corps and the audience. We look forward to watching his gambles pan out in animated form soon!

How are you guys holding up?

The largest group of voters are unsure about the changes and feel pretty sketchy toward WIT and Isayama for making and agreeing to the changes. However, a combined 50% of respondents overall are enjoying the anime so far, with 31% of those voters having a great time watching the events unfold in a new way. 8% of voters have already lost all hope at enjoying the adaptation.

Jokes aside, the pacing's still left me reeling a little. But I can see how this might make sense from the studio's perspective. If I was an anime-only, I think this episode would have THRILLED me. So yes, I am still invested in the anime and am looking forward to the rest of the season!

Thoughts withheld until we see how the rest of the arc is adapted

i thought it was really good! most manga readers disagree, but i have hope that important scenes will be included later, and we shouldn’t be so quick to judge only 2 eps. i think we should be grateful that the scenes they DID include followed the manga pretty well. i have faith in the changes isayama wanted to make, he is the creator after all. have hope yall!

How do you feel about the restructuring so far?

We were quite surprised to find that 57% of respondents are still open to  the changes, looking to see what happens next before ultimately deciding if the anime is in good hands or not. A small 15% are excited for the changes, while another 15% are not feeling them at all. A very small percentage aren’t enjoying anything about the restructuring so far.

I'm really trying to enjoy the season and not judge too fast before seeing all of the arc, but damn WIT, Isayama, you guys are making it so hard, I'm hella confuse by the changes you're making

In my opinion, the change of pace is for the worse. I'm sad Isayama hates the arc this much, and that he agreed to many crucial character scenes being cut. I think the arc in the manga only felt slow because of waiting for the next monthly chapter.

I'm confused by all the changes but it's only episode 2 so I'm waiting for what's coming next. The animation is beautiful, Levi is beautiful (even with his shirt on) so I like it so far!

Still generally hyped about the season, but wary of the changes. A little bit disappointed about the cutting of the minor characters' (dimo, nifa) screentime/character moments. But I'm gonna wait with my judgement 'till the arc's over.

Character development will not be the same. Hopefully they can build up Armin’s and Erwin’s characters in time for RTS or nobody will care.

What best describes what you think about the missing scenes so far?

While we’re all a bit sad to see some of our favorite scenes lost, the largest group of respondents have accepted that as a fact and are ready to just move forward. 26% are holding out hope that everything will be implemented one way or another. 13% of respondents are finding that the missing scenes are making it very difficult to enjoy anything about the season so far.

I literally want to fly to WIT Studio, go in banging a cowbell in everyone's ears until they put the cute scenes of titan eren and his dorky yet fine ass back in the anime.

I'm afraid that loosing some scenes now will take away more important ones later on. No Dimo telling Historia to give Levi a good punch. No Levi basically threatening Historia to take up the mantle of Queen. These interactions added depth to the characters. There's still time for them to include a few other things in flashbacks, but the changes have me a little on edge. Maybe it's just cognitive dissonance - I'll not write off WIT's and Isayama's restructuring efforts yet. But I will sit on my hands and bite my tongue when I ask my Anime-only friends about their thoughts on the pacing thus far.

the only thing I’m really upset they cut is the scene where Armin talks about how to manipulate the mass and everyone stares at him horrified, everyone’s bitching about the abs but the true loss is not seeing the horrifying expression Armin makes

Dimo's the real victim of the cuts here ;_;

My hype for this season died seeing how they are dealing with this arc

I think that people  complain too much about snk anime. Yes, some things are different and even some favourite scenes of mine where removed but overall this is still the best anime of the season, maybe even the year.

How do you feel about the scenes they did keep?

A combined 63% of voters were satisfied with the scenes that we did still get and many of those believe WIT excelled at executing them. 29% thought the scenes were still alright, but lost some of the impact they had in the original work.

The animation of all of it is phenomenal, but all the scenes/events are jumbled in comparison to the manga. It has me like ?????

The whole bit with Jean being "shot" was better in the manga IMO

Again, as before I am not the Uprising Arc's biggest fan, but one thing I did enjoy was whenever the focus was on the 104th kids coming to terms with fighting humans, struggling with their own morality and the orders Levi was giving them. In the manga, this takes place over a longer period of them, so you really get to see Sasha, Jean and Connie question things and come to their own decision not to kill. By reordering things now, I feel that has completely lost its impact.

The scene at the end where the SC crew learns about rod reminds me a bit of the AT & CT reveal when the way in which the SC reacted to Reiner and Bertholdt possibly being titans was withheld from the viewer so I think that maybe thats what they might be going for this season in the sense that they will find a way to cram a lot of moments in flashbacks later.

Rushed. Scenes have less impact. I’m just thankful I’ve read the manga so I have the context of how bamf these things really are.

They removed way too many Dimo scenes which makes him a very different character to the anime canon. In the manga he was a good-hearted opportunist trying to avoid the deaths of himself and his comrades whereas in the anime this was watered down significantly. Also, #BringBackGesumin2018

I like the pacing but many scenes lost their impact, e.g. Reeves death, Armin's kill.

Where do you think Rod, Historia and Eren are right now?

We definitely know they aren’t in the cave, but the largest group of voters aren’t even sure where to theorize they could be right now. Although there is a near tie between people who believe they are either at the ranch or the chapel. One commenter on the poll pointed out an area we hadn’t even considered, however: 

Because this option didn't show up in where Eren and Historia are: The Central MP Headquarters! The torture of Sannes was used as a way to find where Eren and Historia are, which is the original point of that mission. So there'd be a different, less redundant reason to go to the HQ in the first place! You can even add some missing scenes there.

How did you feel about the way the torture scene was handled?

Most of us did believe that WIT would censor the torture sequence a bit, but the largest group are shocked at just how much of it wasn’t shown at all. Nearly one quarter of voters are disheartened that they didn’t show it all. Commenters are mourning Hange’s memorable line about which testicle Sannes wants to keep the most.

THEY REMOVED THE “WHICH TESTICLE DO YOU NOT NEED” LINE. BUT THE BALL-REMOVING INSTRUMENT WAS THERE. TALK ABOUT AN UNFULFILLING CHEKHOVS GUN.

They cut out Hange's best line

Even though i expected it would be a little bit censored, but wasn't thinking it would that much, they turned it into a joke, a humouristic torture...like seriously wit?

I'm upset because they removed Hange's best line.

Where was Levi punching?

It may've not been directly shown, but sometimes there's more horror in what you can’t see than in what you can

I expected it to be censored but it's ok, they managed to transmit the grotesque and black humorous feeling that the manga gave.

im sad about hange’s line not being included, but other than that, i thought it was really good, and i didnt expect them to be as brutal as the manga anyways. :/

Armin contemplates how they are torturing and killing people because they have different views. How does this relate to the current manga events?

The majority of voters believe that this was a good foreshadowing for the events that have taken place much later in the manga. 17% of voters don’t feel that the situations are comparable, however.

Both sides are fighthing for their own good

Eh, that’s how human history has always been since time immemorial. It’s always people killing other people because of a difference in views and ideologies. Not saying that it should be tolerated, but everything is a case-by-case basis. Sometimes, you need to extinguish the enemy because the enemy alive is a far bigger threat to the world. That’s just how it is.

Everyone else is stuck in the mid-Uprising chapters while Armin is 57D pathsmancing his way to mid-Marley chapters

The uprising and ao Liberio aren’t comparable, but Armin is consistent through each

We didn’t get shirtless Levi, how are you feeling about it?

39% of voters are sad about not getting treated to some eye candy this week, while 34% just don’t care about it at all. 15% were happy just to see Levi’s nice bara tiddies outlining his shirt, while 12% of you are still holding out hope for rock-hard abs.

I was robbed of the abs I was promised and am like... really pissed off? Sad? Bemusedly confused? I know in the grand scheme of things it shouldn't really matter that much but dang, it hurts.

It might just be the lesbian in me talking but I don’t care they didn’t show abswin and Levi shirtless lol

Levi is daddy af. Thanks for exploding my ovaries bc I didn't want children. Super convenient.

But Levi still looked badass tho

What about abswin?

Similar to Levi, the largest groups of respondents either feel betrayed by WIT or don’t care about it. A larger portion than with Levi were completely satisfied simply by Erwin’s presence.

ABS ABS ABS!!!

Apparently this world doesn’t deserve Levi and Erwin’s abs... Looks like we’re not worthy of such a blessing.

I AM FEELING ABSOLUTELY BETRAYED BY THE LACK OF ABS I mean c'mon, WIT, you can't give me, a grown adult, just an angsty adolescent's steaming abs (from the Titan tyvm) and expect me to be satisfied with that.

The Ackerman reveal was handled a bit differently, with Kenny telling Traute about how he raised Levi instead of telling Dimo he is his pride. How do you feel about the change?

The majority of voters believe that the small change in the Ackerman reveal wasn’t a big deal. However, a pretty sizable portion do believe that the weight of the reveal was lost, with many commenters lamenting the loss of Kenny saying that Levi is his pride.

I think we'll have more impactful Acerkreveal to come when Levi and Mikasa talk. *nervous chucking*

Levi being an Ackerman is the less secret thing anyway, the way it's reveals hardly matter

Most of the fandom read some good ol fanfic, i'd be surprised if like 95% of the people watching it didn't know he was an Ackerman (or just log in to tumblr)

Lol so many anime-only reactors didn’t even notice the Ackerman name-drop so WIT pretty much failed at that. And it’s okay for fans to feel disappointed with the anime. We’re not **obligated** to think it’s amazing especially if we think there are parts of it that weren’t adapted well.

I expect another encounter between Kenny and Levi that leads to the talk about Levi being Kenny's pride, probably directed to Rod instead. This scene, on the other hand, worked as a wonderful namedrop and setup for a second encounter.

I love how he called Levi his pride in the manga so i’m very sad they changed it, it made Kenny’s death even more emotional.

It flew right past me oops

Levi threatening Historia didn't happen, breaking the chain of events that builds up to her punching him later. What best describes your thoughts?

It’s probably safe to say that many of us are raising questions about the loss of this scene and how WIT will make up for it or whether it was truly needed in the first place. 39% believe that WIT will still work it in somehow, while the majority believe that the scene is lost forever, with split opinions about whether WIT will make up for it in another way or whether their faith in Historia and Levi’s arcs is shattered forever.

The only thing I'm keeping my eyes on is anything related to Historia and her future step up as queen.  I'm sure she'll learn that she is royal next episode via her father, so I wonder if eventually deciding to take rule in place of her hidden relatives and corrupt government, will actually end up being her idea, which could explain why Levi's altercation with her was removed.  That would be really interesting and I think it could work out just as well!  I always thought his anger toward her was a little too sudden and misplaced in the manga, anyway, and if it's removed for good, I'm glad we don't have to live through that controversy again.

I’m kinda disappointed that they didn’t include Dimo Reeves’s redemption arc. It was very essential to Historia & Levi’s character. Maybe I’m worrying over nothing & instead Fligel will replace Dimo in that role, but Eren & Historia were already captured so I’m not sure how they intend to go about rewriting Historia & Levi’s character progression. However, the production team & Isayama do seem to understand how important character development is for this arc, so maybe they’re finding different ways to make it better in ways we didn’t even realize were possible. Maybe by the end we’ll all say “Wow! This was handled a million times better than in the manga!” But right now, it just seems like Isayama had a negative bias towards this arc & was only so accepting of the changes cause he just thought of the Uprising Arc as his worst piece of work to date despite it being the most important for character development & plot progression. I hope I am wrong though.

Which group of characters are your favorite?

Where do you primarily discuss the series?

I discuss the series in Facebook, dunno why you don't have that option :/

Additional thoughts on the episode?

Isayama reacting to S3 complaints: “Am I out of touch? No, it's the manga readers who are wrong.”

BUT NO FLEGEL QUESTION IN THE POLL!!!?!?!?!? THAT'S IT!!(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ I'm actually not going to do anything about it though. but still. Flegel is best boy.

I’m blown away by the animation!  I’m kind of enjoying guessing what might happen next and what other changes they’re going to make.  I still have faith that WIT and Isayama will deliver an amazing season three - holding out for more episodes until I lose my mind about changes.  It’s super entertaining so far.

I am aware that a 100% adaptation of the manga is impossible and I'm usually not bothered by it. However, I'm slowly getting nervous that too much could get lost and that those fans who want an accurate adaptation will get too frustrated with it to continue. I really hope WIT has a plan here and listens to the fans.

I really, really, really wanted Kenny to say that he was proud of Levi. It was really bittersweet. I hope WIT puts it later on when Kenny is about to die and hopefully he tells it to Levi straight up. But I’m not gonna lie, Levi never knowing that his “father figure” was proud of him all this time puts a tragic and beautiful twist to their relationship. There’s always been something sublime about unexpressed emotions that will forever be hidden because death claimed it first.

I feel like they're sacrificing character interactions and developments for the sake of pacing and action.  

I know lots of people are saying that everyone should chill before jumping to conclusions, but as far as I’m concerned all our opinions - mine included, as well as the opinions of those who are dissatisfied with the episode - are valid. And in my opinion, there was so much that the anime skipped. Sure, they were just small details. But it were these details that enriched the story. I trust Isayama, but at the end of the day, he too errs. He too commits mistakes. I don’t know, but if I feel overly dissatisfied with the adaptation even after the season is over, and in my defense am able to bring up valid reasons why I didn’t like it, then so be it.

It's a shame Dimo got reduced to such a minor character.

I felt a bit sorry for the girl who was killed by Armin. I didn't pay attention on her in the manga but in Armin's flashbacks she was more human. It was the proof that even such cold monsters like anti-human squad members have some heart.

I love it so far but Levi and Erwin need more love and they'll get it if they are shirtless and have moar scenes

Traute made me gay.

Ackerman bastards! How they can violate chairs like that?! Right now I can trust only Mikasa with my poor chair babies <3

everyone is like 'where are the abs' while my lesbian ass is sad about no gesumin smh

Thanks to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again on Monday! 

[jimlingss]

Brass & Strings [14]

Episode 13 - Episode 14 - Episode 15 Words: 10k Genre: Fluff, Humour (?), Slice of Life, Music!Au, College!Au Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to the mean girl after high school? Where do they go, where do they end up? More importantly, what happens when they get mixed up with the classic nerd that is always too nervous to answer no? Things become a lot more complicated when Kim Namjoon encounters you. They dub you as bat-shit insane and you are not ashamed.

Cr.

You’re sipping on your iced vanilla latte, nibbling on the green straw with your teeth and indifferent to the way your red lipstick leaves a stain as if you had kissed the plastic. The man across from you continues to audibly sigh and you know it’s some sort of signal but you can’t be bothered. You’re internally rolling your eyes. Though, after the fiftieth exhale, you’ll do anything to get him to stop.

Shut up! “What’s wrong, honey?” You put your hand over the man’s, cocking your head to one side. He lifts your fingers, thumb running over your knuckles and his eyes trail to your face, smiling warmly at how cute you look.

If only he could read your ugly thoughts.

“It’s just….my wife hasn’t returned yet, Y/N.” The man lets go and rubs his temples. “I miss her terribly. Every night, I wake up and find the empty side of the bed and I become so sad. She took the private jet to our summer house but she won’t let me in! She won’t say a single word to me!”

The man continues to rave and ramble on. You’re nodding but in a mechanical motion, no longer registering what he’s actually saying. “No one understands and it’s not like I can talk about this to my employees or the shareholders. I have no one….except, you. What should I do, Y/N? How do I get my wife back?”

You can’t. Why would she want to come crawling back to a bastard like you?

“Flowers.” You giggle out, “everyone loves flowers.”

The man grabs his phone and orders a thousand dollar bouquet to be delivered on his wife’s doorstep. He thanks you for your lovely advice, promises to see you soon and you mutually bid each other goodbye.

You slide on your Gucci sunglasses, tug your favourite cream fur coat closer around your shoulders and whip your hair back. People’s vision automatically dart onto your figure as your overpriced heels click against the cobblestone path, strutting past them and leaving them awestruck. But the cool facade is broken when a clumsy boy emerges from the shadows, joining alongside you. Your tiny smirk is replaced with a wide grin.

“You know, you don’t have to act as my bodyguard. Don’t you have better things to do than to follow me around on each date?”

Namjoon pulls on the strings of his hoodie, pouty lips that are obviously dissatisfied with you. “We need to take strong measures to make sure you’re safe. What happens if you get followed again? Or something worse like kidnapped or sold?”

“I can take care of myself.” You lightly taunt him. “I was fine before I knew you.”

“But now, I’m here. So, use me.” He smiles when you’re steps slow and you wonder if he knows what he’s saying. It’s unfair how much he can affect you when he utters such a simple statement. “I trust you.”

After each and every one of your outings, Namjoon has been waiting for you. He makes sure you make it to your next destination safe and soundly without a scratch. And when he, himself, can’t make it, he would somehow time it and Taehyung or Jimin would be in the vicinity. It should be infuriating that you’re being treated like a baby, passed around from babysitter to babysitter, but the gesture in actuality keeps you calm. Since the incident a few weeks ago, though you’d never admit it, you were still shaken.

You can’t begin to imagine what it would’ve been like if Namjoon wasn’t there. If he wasn’t with you now and you were alone. But you’re not alone anymore.

“I got to finish some work too!” The harpist’s dimples mark each side of his cheek and he indicates to the backpack swung over his shoulders. He clears his throat and you raise a brow. “Actually…” He hesitates, “for one of your classes, there was a massive project worth fifty percent of your grade. I’ve been working on it for three weeks now and I..I-I uh...just finished.”

The boy flushes and the tips of his ears turn into a shade of scarlet. He reaches up, pushing his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose. You stop in your tracks and he halts with you. “You did?” You’ve done this many times yourself and by the bashful expression written across his features, you know what he wants from you.

Namjoon wants your praise.

“That’s amazing. You’re amazing.” Unlike before when your words were dripping of insincerity and sarcasm, now you’ve allowed yourself to be honest. “I might not tell you this enough, but you know you’re very intelligent, right? You’re an incredible person, Namjoon.” Your arm lifts and you brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes, all while staring at him.

Namjoon’s smile grows and it occurs to you that up until now, you’ve never really shown your appreciation through words. You’ve insulted him, yelled and screamed. But as the boy melts underneath your touch, you realize that he wants one thing...to be praised and appreciated.

“Thanks, Y/N- oof.” He stumbles back a few steps and a tinkling laugh streams from his chest. “What are you doing?”

Your voice is muffled through his clothes and your arms lock tighter against his waist. “I’m trying to show you that I appreciate you.” You don’t care that you look like an absolute fool, that your costly sunglasses are being smudged or that your lavish coat is being pressed. It might look like a funny sight - for such a dolled up girl to be embracing someone else who looks like they picked up their clothes from the garbage can. Yet, you couldn’t give a damn.

He laughs again, his cheeks numb from smiling when you finally let go. “I’ve decided that I want to be more honest from here on out.”

“Honest?”

“Yes.” You both continue to walk down the block of lavish stores. “I think I’ve been lying to myself for too long. It’s time to be more straightforward and truthful.”

Namjoon lifts his eyebrow, repressing more laughter. “Aren’t you blunt enough already?”

“To other people.” You quip, “but not to myself. And I want to start by asking you this. Kim Namjoon,” you shout out his name and he widens his eyes, “I have never seen you without your glasses.”

“What?”

“You can do whatever you want - your fashion style is a fucking catastrophe but it’s yours nonetheless. I simply want to be honest and say that I’ve been dying of curiosity as to what you look like without your glasses.” You nod and he blinks in bewilderment. “Second honest thought, I think we should go celebrate! If you’ve been slaving away, then it’s time to let loose!”

“O-okay.”

It must mean something when you don’t give a second glance to the palatial restaurant that welcome you with its open doors, serving fine dining dishes and tiny portions. Instead, you huddle with Namjoon in a food stall tent, asking the lady for bottles of alcohol and picking at the food on the grill. It’s simple. It’s not expensive or luxurious. It feels enough.

//

The next time you see Namjoon, you can’t help but study him.

“Hmmmm…..”

“Will you stop staring like that?” He covers up his face but you tug on his arms. “Y/N..”

He’s not wearing his glasses today. Namjoon told you that they were in for repairs, hence, he used his contact lens instead. “I don’t think I can get used to this. You look normal, don’t get me wrong….”

“C’mon. We’re going to be late.” The boy grabs your hand, dragging you away with him. You laugh, following along and letting him take you inside the dreaded science lecture hall.

For the next few days, Namjoon assists you through more presentations, reading the script out into your ear piece for you to mimic. If any of the professors notice that you’ve never once sat in their class, then they also know your last name and who you are. They never say anything.

It’s one of the few benefits of belonging to the family that you do.

“You know what?” You gaze at him one afternoon while walking in the corridor. “I think I like you better with your glasses.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat and brushes his hair. “I see.”

Lo and behold, the next day the harpist is wearing his spectacles again.

Aside from the presentations, Namjoon also writes exams in your place and by the end of the semester, he’s gotten B’s and C’s across the board. You study with him, of course, but while he’s doing biology and mathematics, you’re working on composition and music theory. Every so often, you ask him a spontaneous question or you tutor him in what he’s missed but the brilliant kid is never incorrect. His head is a encyclopedia and it’s frankly incredible.

“L/N Y/N and Kim Namjoon. If I could have a quick minute.” Your conductor calls you at the end of one of the last classes and you exchange glances with your friend. You approach in hesitation to the front podium and the unusual man’s smile only puts you more on edge.

“Is there something the matter, sir?”

You brace yourself for any criticism but he merely shakes his head. “No. On the contrary, I am quite impressed with both your performances this year. Y/N, you’ve always been one of the best students, despite your conflicts with your classmates. Namjoon, I have also been astounded at your massive improvements. You’ve become one of the best harpists that this university has ever seen. The two of you play very well and I want to reward you for that.”

“Oh. Uh…”

Your breath has hitched, unaware that such kind words could come from the harsh man’s mouth. He’s thrown his baton at multiple players before and if it wasn’t rage that he was feeling, then he was completely eccentric. You remember cursing the man as nuts on several occasions.

“Th-thank you.” Namjoon bows his head. “It’s an honour to hear that.”

You mime his movements and your conductor lets out a hearty laugh. “I was wondering if the pair of you would be interested in performing together.” Your head shoots up. “Now, I know that the harp and tuba isn’t a conventional duo but music isn't about being conventional. We should constantly be searching for better, for greater, even if it’s strange. And I believe if you two harness your powers and skills together, it could be a spectacular duet. What do you think?”

You’re a fish out of open water, mouth opening and closing several times. Namjoon’s eyes double and he steals a glimpse of you. “I-we….that would be incredible!”

“You’d be performing at the RPO as one of the last performances in a month-”

“Wait.” You hold out your hand with a shaky laugh. “Pardon?”

Your conductor gives you a strange look. “You’d be performing at the RPO-”

“T-The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra?” You choke and wheeze. Namjoon pats your back as you hack your lungs to death. He scrambles for his bottle of water and you down half of it. The conductor wears an amused expression. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra is one of the most famous ensembles where you live. Musicians like you and those who have graduated can only dream of entering. Not only do they tour around the world but they play in the most gorgeous venues; picking up awards from competitions like it’s nobody's business, performing for the head of state, recognized as one of the top. Wealthy folks fork out thousands merely to get a seat at one of their venues. And you’ve only heard rumours about how breathtaking the experience is. It’s the most stable of careers, a more than steady income. Performing with the RPO is the highest status you could receive. You’d be able to meet like minded people, have a potential path of fame and riches…..

You could become a world renowned musician.

“What do you think?”

Your knees almost buckle into the ground. “Y-Yes!”

//

Namjoon’s grinning and chuckling at how energetic you are, nearly bouncing off the walls. He’s only seen you like this when you were drunk off your ass, running around in circles until he had to forcibly haul you over his shoulder and walk away before a police officer could come by and hand a ticket for public drunkenness. But in your current state, you’re sober...or perhaps you’re actually intoxicated from excitement. Nonetheless, he’s having quite an enjoyable time watching you.

“Do you know what this could mean for us?” You throw your hands up into the air, out of breath from screaming into the couch cushion the boy gave you. “We could have careers! We could be actual musicians!”

“We’re already musicians.” Namjoon tips his head to the side. “But should we celebrate?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

You thought Namjoon’s place has always been similar to that of a dump. It’s not like he’s a very organized individual and you’ve witnessed dirty dishes laying around more times than you can count. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he pulls out a fresh bottle of wine from the fridge. Namjoon pops the cork and pours both of you a glass. You sit on his sofa and you clink your glasses together to a success.

“Jimin…” He grins in a sheepish manner, timidly waving his hand over. Jimin allows the front door to close and he drops his bag before slipping off his shoes. “Cam hab a drink with usss!”

The harpist’s roommate looks over to you, holding the bottle without realizing that it’s empty. Namjoon’s slurring on his words while you’re swaying from side to side, humming a song he doesn’t recognize. Jimin tries his best to hide his smirk at how the two of you are huddled closely together. “Nah, I think I’m good. I had a long day so, I’mma call it a night...make sure to keep it down…”

Jimin smirks and Namjoon narrows his eyes. “Wha’s tha..t supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He strides off into his bedroom and is gone within the next second.

Your friend turns back to you when you begin giggling again. A smile stretches across his face and he pokes your shoulder. “Wha? Wha’ is it?”

“Can you imagine?” You snort out while your stomach squeezes in hysterics. Your alcohol tolerance is higher than Namjoon’s and you’ve mastered how to speak without garbling the words up but that doesn’t mean you’re clear-headed at the moment. “The look on Rose’s face when I tell her!” Another snort and more chuckles fall from your plush lips.

Namjoon’s own laughter dies out as he becomes preoccupied in gazing at how soft they look, what it would be like if he reached out and touched them...if he kissed you.

His thoughts are immediately diminished or rather merely transferred when you bend over in snickers, putting your hand on his upper thigh. The muscle tenses underneath your fingertips and that’s when you look up to realize he’s not making a single sound. Rather, Kim Namjoon is gazing right into your eyes, leaning closer and closer. Your breath hitches, lashes fluttering as you stare at his own mouth that you can’t help but hunger after.

Your eyes shut. You brace yourself. But unfortunately, the moment never comes.

“I think….” Namjoon’s reached over to the table, grasping the neck of the emptied wine bottle. He clears his throat in an attempt to clarify his mind. “-we’ve had..enoug’.”

“O-okay.”

The two of you go to bed in silence, lying as far away as possible without facing each other. The strain in the air never really dies out until morning comes and the memories are pushed aside.

//

With the help of the conductor, the piece that’s chosen is relatively new, Giancarlo Aquilanti’s Tango. At first you’re apprehensive, preferring something classical and more technically complicated but your conductor insists that with an unorhodized duo, like the harp and tuba, it was best that the music itself be original as well. You can’t complain about his logic and after you analyzed the score and tried to play, you found that it had a peculiar charm.

For one of the first times, Namjoon gets to witness your Spartan discipline.

A year ago, he assumed like most others that you were a spoiled brat that loved money and attention; a person that clung onto others and manipulated them. He’s not wrong but the moment music becomes the subject, you lose the playful quips and teasings. You’re serious and demanding, striving for absolute fucking perfection. And the harpist is dying at your wrath.

“Again.” It’s the only word you’ve said since the beginning of practice and he expects it after each time you run through the score. “Again.”

When you first received the sheet music, you dragged him to the library to analyze it from top to bottom. Namjoon foolishly thought after two hours, he was finished but he looked over to find your scribbles and writing filling every single empty space. That day, you sat for six hours in total to find the meaning behind the piece, the style of it and break down.

It took less than an hour to play in tempo with each other, a surprisingly short amount of time but you supposed you and Namjoon are just more in sync than with the others you’ve ever participated with. It takes another full day for the pair of you to figure out your proper rhythm, dynamics and accents. You have to admit it’s a well written score - you two interchange the melody and rhythm at different parts, allowing both of your instruments to have its moments.

Throughout the piece, Namjoon has multiple arpeggios and glissandos that shine through while you set the beat. Namjoon was chosen for a reason. You can’t find much to complain about his technique but-

“Fuck.” You slam down your pencil on the music stand, holding your head in your hands. Namjoon observes you in silence and you let out an exasperated exhale. “I don’t know what’s wrong. There’s just something...missing!”

“Maybe we should take a break.”

“No.” You shake your head. “We can’t afford time for breaks. We need to keep practicing.”

Your team work with him isn’t bad at all. If anything, he’s the best person you’ve worked with thus far. Namjoon is as serious as you are and never once whines about how much you make him play. You only call quits on practice when your throat has shriveled up and you notice him stretching out the aches in his fingers.

In the next two weeks, you devote yourself to rehearsing. Namjoon goes off and finishes your science exams and you complete your other music courses as well before you seal yourself into the practice room. The conductor comes by frequently to monitor and give you his guidance, what to fix and how to play. He doesn’t dip his fingers in too much but makes a few comments here and there. You know he’s trying to get you to do it yourself, a teaching experience perhaps.

It’s infuriating.

“I don’t know. We’ve fixed every single flaw. We even wrote down where to breathe so it can be in sync.”

Yoongi glances at the score over your shoulder and hums. “The technical parts are all correct. You play flawlessly but I agree. There’s something missing. It feels empty.”

Your cousin’s criticism only drives you crazier. Now, you definitely know you weren’t imagining it.

“I think your unity definitely pulls through. The sound is crisp and I really enjoyed the last few bars. You did well on closing it up.” Jennie comforts Namjoon with her smile. “I, personally, think it’s exceptionally played.”

Yoongi steals your pencil and circles a few notes and areas. “Try adding accents and staccatos here. Maybe that’s what it needs. Try changing this into a flat.”

But sometimes even your genius cousin can’t save what was never there.

As the days draw closer, you go to your last resort. You’re at wits end. Once in a blue moon, an untrained musical ear might just be what you need; a person who can simply listen without considering the technical details and terminologies, truly the most unbiased.

“Well?” Namjoon lifts his foot off the pedal and stares into his roommate’s face. “What did you think?”

Jimin thinks for a long second and you wait for him. The boy runs a hand through his blonde locks, then shrugs. “Sounds pretty good.”

You facepalm. Namjoon sighs.

//

The office door crashes against the wall, mimicking that of thunder. You’re staggering in, hair a rat’s nest that appears infested with lice and the hoodie you stole from Namjoon hangs off of your shoulders in a way that makes you look like a beggar. The conductor in a slow manner, raises his head from his binder and smiles in amusement. Namjoon limps behind you in delay, cringing at your rude entrance but not saying anything.

“Why isn’t it you two.” He raises his cup of tea to his lips, taking an extended sip. The walls of your conductor’s office are full of ancient portraits of deceased musicians. An oak bookcase fills the space behind him. It’s cozy and carries an artistic aesthetic, though at this moment, you can’t appreciate any of it. “Is there something the matter?”

“Obviously.” You cut the air with a sharp tongue, unrestrained and completely gone wild. “You know what’s wrong. I know you know. I can’t take it anymore. We’ve been practicing for three weeks now and we’re running out of time. I can’t figure it out. Tell me.” The words come out as a demand and you add as afterthought, “please.”

“Alright.” He sets down his quill pen that’s too dramatic in your opinion. “Tell me, what is the tempo of the piece?”

“Rubato.” Namjoon answers and he nods. Your professor asks for the mood and the harpist answers without missing a single beat, having drilled it inside his skull. “Con fuoco, in a fiery manner.”

“These two things are supposed to help you discover what you’re missing the most. There’s a reason why it feels empty, dare I say...boring. You’ve got everything else down except for one key piece that makes or breaks it.” He leans back in his seat with a smirk and your annoyance is only building. The middle-aged man clearly is trying to take his time and test your patience. Namjoon puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder to calm you down before you can curse and after another second, he opens his mouth, “musical expression.”

He continues, “there’s not enough passion. The tango requires intense emotions. It’s senual, sexy, full of sexual tension, exuding sex, want and desire.” You never thought you’d hear any of your professors talk about sexual intercorse and in such a vigirous manner, waving his arms in grand gestures. “Have you both ever desired something with so much desperation before?!”

“Uh…”

“That’s what you miss. The raw need. The sensuality. It doesn’t need to be played flawlessly or perfectly but with emotion.” He hyperventilates, catching his breath and sits back again. “That’s the missing piece. It’s the key that will make you stand out amongst the others.”

There’s a tense silence in the room. Namjoon clears his throat in discomfort. “H-how are we supposed to do that?”

You question the same thing but the conductor merely shrugs. “Dunno. I can’t make you feel something. That’s on you. Good luck.”

What kind of shit advice is that?!

You’re on the brink to absolute insanity when you’re unable to probe for more answers. Instead, your professor takes the plump and red apple from his basket, giving it a good throw in the air, catching it in his hand and bidding you goodnight. He gathers his belongings, forces you out of the room, locks up the door and disappears down the hall while you scream.

//

“What an interesting predicament that you’re in.” Taehyung runs his fingers over his chin like it’s an invisible beard. Namjoon’s sitting across him at the dining hall, watching the saxophonist munch on a cheese sandwich (yes, bread and just cheese - don’t ask). “You know, don’t tell Y/N this because I think you’ll find my body in the gutter or ditch tomorrow….but, Y/N’s playing is impeccable. I told you once about the rumours that she’s a genius, remember? I rhinck one op da-”

Taehyung swallows his mouthful and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think one of the few reasons she isn’t a national sensation yet is because, other than her bizarre instrument of choice, her playing has always been lackluster.”

Namjoon frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Her playing is too perfect.” Taehyung focuses on his food, doe eyes enlarging at the yellow cheese sticking out. “Her sound doesn’t have feelings. It doesn’t allow room for mistakes. It’s rigid. And it can make others feel intimidated or uncomfortable.”

“Y/N has always been an intimidating person.” He further comments, “and that must suck ass. She can’t really change the way she is. So, her own personality is inhibiting her dreams.”

Namjoon’s gaping at his friend. Namjoon wonders if Taehyung is the real genius. The kid could easily become a music critic.

“Though, recently, I’ve noticed her sound has eased up a lot.” The saxophonist looks up innocently, chewing the food packed in his cheek. “That might be thanks to you.”

“What?”

Taehyung must not hear since he moves on to a different subject. “Anyways, if you’re looking to create a more sensual mood, I don’t know. Why don’t you try to think about your...sexy times?”

He moves his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner. Namjoon sighs, “look dude. I hate to break this to you but I don’t ‘get any’. I’ve been so busy lately that-”

“Oh c’mon. Everyone has time for a little sexy time.” Taehyung grins. “All you need is a warm bubble bath, some alcohol, like wine or hard liquor, either-or. Wind down in your robe, scatter some rose petals on your bed and you use…” Namjoon’s face twists up and the other giggles. “Your hand.”

Taehyung laughs. “You think I get any either?! It’s my hand! Your hand is better anyways. It’s all you ever need! It’s a part of you and you bring it with you everywhere you go! A bathroom stall, underneath the table during a lecture, it’s your portable device! All you gotta do is pull down your pants and wrap your hand-”

“Alright, alright! Dude.” Namjoon shuts him up the moment others start to turn around in their seats to stare. “I-I know how, okay?” The harpist’s face is reddened and flushed. He mumbles, “I don’t need to be taught like some teenager.”

Namjoon hates how easily embarrassed he can get. A single comment can cause him to blush for the next ten minutes and it was an incentive to those bullies back in elementary and middle school - the period before puberty hit Namjoon and his body built into that of a hitman’s. But prior to that then, he was incessantly ridiculed and harassed. Kids took advantage of his timid nature and made him do their homework, stole his lunch money and took his shoes. The only teasing he accepts now is if it’s from his friends since he knows their true intentions and you, of course.

You just seem to be an exception to everything.

“Y/N?” He gently pushes the door open, slipping inside the dark practice room. You’re grasping onto the tuba, staring at your sheet music perched on the black stand. The curtains to the window are drawn closed and the lights are off. “Why is it so dark in here?”

“It was too bright.” You mutter, “it hurts my eyes.”

Namjoon takes a step and accidentally kicks over an empty coffee cup. His pupils flicker down and over to the corner full of the empty cups, as if you had collected them from the Starbucks trash can. “How many did you drink today?”

“Don’t know. Five?” You scribble something on the paper. “Namjoon, can you please turn off that fucking metronome? It’s making my headache worse.”

He keeps his eyes trained onto your figure and carefully treads to the chair where your metronome tuner is laid. He swipes the small device and then looks down. “Y/N. It’s already off.”

“No, it isn’t.” You grit out. “Then, what’s this buzzing in my ear?”

Namjoon puts your prized tool down before he strides over and kneels beside you. “Y/N.” You hum in response, savouring his soft and sweet tone that lulls you. “When was the last time you’ve eaten or slept?”

“Why does it matter?” You’re certain that you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown but maybe, maybe if you try hard enough and focus more, you can ignore it. “Look, w-we don’t have any more time. Now’s not time to relax. We need to practice. I-”

“No. We don’t need to practice. What you need is rest and to eat.” He shuffles your belongings and you’re about to tell him off, to curse at him to leave and stop bothering you but Namjoon looks up. “I think we’ve been over-practicing.”

“What? How? There’s no such thing as ‘over-practicing’.”

“Do you trust me?” Namjoon halts his hands and gazes back into your eyes. In your bleary mind, all you want is to follow his words of seduction, the ones that drip of honey and sounds like heaven’s angels. There would be nothing better than laying down for a bit of shut-eye.

“Please, Y/N. We’re a duo, right? I need you to believe in me as much as I believe in you.”

You can’t resist his temptation. “F-Fine.”

//

It feels absolutely glorious to step away from music, despite every cell and particle in your body screaming otherwise. Time is ticking, precious seconds slipping from your fingertips that could be used to figure out what you need to fix. But even though it might be completely idiotic of you, your confidence in Namjoon sedates your anxiousness. You don’t resist when he forces you down for a nap with him. Hours later, you wake up with your head no longer throbbing and your eyes no longer burning. You oddly feel rejuvenated and refreshed.

“Where are we going?” You half-expect to be taken back to the practice room for another round but instead, you end up- “I don’t cook, Nams.”

“It’s okay.” He hums while studying the squash like it’s artwork. “I do….kind of.”

You’re pushing the shopping cart after him, following as Namjoon bounces around the grocery store. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been to such a place. The maid was always assigned to pick up food and your parents never once set foot inside. After you moved out, you’ve only eaten at the dining hall or whenever your dates took you out to lavish fine dining restaurants.

To be at such a...commoner’s place, it’s unfamiliar. A year ago, you probably would’ve screeched and dashed out. Now, the chills nipping at your skin in the refrigerator section is slightly bearable and only because it’s the way in which the harpist examines ice-cream cartons.

His dimples appear ever so slightly when his cheeks move in contemplation.

“You know…” You pipe up and he looks over. “I actually like you better without glasses.”

His eyes perk up. “Really?”

“Yep.” Strangely enough, as you accompany him in the next aisle, his spectacles have disappeared from his face. “Where did your glasses go?” You have to hold in a giggle. “Can you even see?”

“I-I can.” He coughs. “They were bothering me so I took them off.”

“Alright then, tough guy.” You find it endearing how obvious he is and if the butterflies storming into your stomach wasn’t enough, then it’s the way he grabs onto the handle of the shopping cart with you, having to be led around. You’re pretty sure he’s as blind as a bat without proper eyewear but he insists that he’s fine.

“You know, there’s something I’ve been curious about. Ever since we went on that volunteering thing and we told old stories, I realized...I don’t really know much about your past, Nams.”

He lifts his head, nose grazed against the cereal box as he tried to read the label. He blinks in curiosity and minimal astonishment. “You want to know more about me?”

You look away with a nonchalant shrug. “Sure, why not? So...when did you start learning harp?”

“I started in high school, about fifteen years old? It’s late, huh?”

“No.” Your head shakes. “There’s no age limit to learning an instrument. I’m just surprised you’re this good when you’ve only been playing for five years.”

You push the cart and he continues down the next aisle beside you. “My father actually taught music on the side to find some extra money. He always loved it as a hobby but I wasn’t interested in it very much. He tried to show me instruments when I was a kid…...It wasn't until high school when I joined band that I got into it as well. I thought it would be a good way to get closer to him and share something in common.”

It’s heartwarming and you appreciate parents that love music. “They support you in it?”

“They do.” He nods with a soft smile. “I chose to play the harp in high school but I joined university as a chemistry major. It wasn’t until the end of first year that I realized I didn’t like it and I was taking a few classes in music at the time as an option when I decided to make it my major.”

“What about you?” It occurs to Namjoon that he’s been curious since he’s met you. It’s a question that everyone around has asked themselves but never directly to the only person who would know. “Why the tuba?”

“I started off playing the piano.” It’s a distant memory, one that you can barely conjure into your mind. “I was six or something. My parents threw me into a bunch of extra-curricular stuff, as parents do. Guess they wanted me to have an extra set of skills under my belt.”

“Oh.” He’s pleasantly surprised. “Can you play now?”

“Not really. Yoongi’s the better pianist. I only learnt for three years until I switched over to tuba when I was nine.” You throw a bag of chips into the cart before gazing into his brown irises. “And as to why…”

It’s a memoir you’ve held in your hands. A reaccuring dream that grounds you to the planet, reminds you of your roots. It begins with darkness.

You were born into a black void. With nowhere to go, a path became ignited by your parents’ guidance. Each step you took was measured by their eyes and persuaded through their soothing coos. You walked the road that they wanted you to walk, continuing on the route that they had laid out for you with their sweat and tears. But it wasn’t until you stopped one day, feet halting on the concrete and your eyes wandering into the endless oblivion.

Your eyes narrowed and your breath hitched. You walked into the darkness, despite the screams urging you it was a mistake, and you stepped off the course of your parents.

Another path became illuminated.

[Eleven Years Ago]

“Your daughter is a musical prodigy.” Your pianist teacher raves on and on in both excitement and distress. “In all my years of teaching, never have I encountered such a marvelous student. If trained correctly, she could become a world famous pianist in less than ten years.”

You grip your level six piano book, rocking from the tips of your toes to your heels. Adult talk bores you.

“No.”

Your father clears his throat and steps in front of your mother. They’ve had the same talk for months now but it always ends the same way. “We already have plans for her and she won’t be pursuing music.”

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N, it would be a waste of her talents and skills if she did not continue with music.” He’s desperate, nearly going down on his knees and grovelling. “Y/N has a gift!”

Your mother scoffs and huffs out, “then she can use that talent elsewhere. Somewhere more useful.”

Now, you’re bored out of your mind. You had picked at the spine of your yellow book and stared down at the ugly shoes that your mother insisted were pretty and expensive, but they cinched your toes too much for your liking. It had been more than ten minutes since they started to argue.....

Your ears perk at that moment, a sound emitting through the cracks of the door….a room over?

You slip down the hallway without anyone noticing and you peek into the tiny window of the practice room. You can’t see very well, only someone’s backside and they’re holding a golden instrument. You recognize it...the brass family...tuba?

It’s ugly. But as you turn away, one note pulls you back. The music tugs on your limbs, stealing the air within your lungs, an invisible strand tying itself from you to the instrument.

It’s an earthquake. A powerful and cavernous tone that rumbles and shakes your inner core. You whip your body back as the round and robust sound continues to resonate, majestic and sonorous in all its wonder. The sound is deep and low, a timbre that vibrates the floors and your ears.

It’s different. It isn’t like the common piano which bores you to death. It isn’t the violin that makes you sleepy and frustrated. What you’re listening to, has struck a chord in your soul, lit a match with a flame that cannot be snuffed out.

You tug on your mother’s dress. She doesn’t turn until you’ve done it thrice. “What is it?”

What you would then utter would not only mortify your parents and cause your piano teacher to begin hysterically crying...it would change the entire course of your life and make you walk a path that was never planned for you. It’s a path you have forged yourself.

“I want to play the tuba.”

The cashier’s eavesdropping. You can tell as you pack the food and produce onto the conveyor belt. But you don’t really care. Namjoon’s response and reaction is more important to you anyways.

“So, I basically cried and screamed and threw a tantrum until I got what I wanted.”

He smiles fondly. “Of course, you did. But I’m glad.”

You lift a brow, waiting with him where the groceries are being packed into bags. “And why is that?”

“Because if you didn’t fight for what you wanted and you kept on following along with your parents, we wouldn’t have ever met.”

“Hmm….” You tilt your head to the side. “You’re right. That would’ve been a real shame if we never met. I wouldn’t be able to ever insult you and follow you around and threaten you.”

“For the record, you’re not as bad as you think you are.” He smiles and nudges your side. “You don’t scare me anymore.”

You’re speechless, solely letting out a scoff and a ‘hmph’ as you cross your arms. Namjoon laughs at your pout and he’s about to press on but there’s a call of his name that startles the both of you. “Joon?”

“Oh no.”

He already knows before he’s whirled around. He’s grown up with this voice, heard it yell and nag him, lull him to sleep as a child. Namjoon groans, wanting to pull you away but aware that it’s too late. “Joon! Is that you?! Where are your glasses?!”

“Uhh….” You lean your entire body to one side, poking your head out from his large stature covering you, eyes travelling from his to the woman’s. “Nams?”

The harpist braces himself and spins one hundred eighty degrees. “Mom!”

“Mom?!”

“Son!” The short woman in rounded glasses opens her arms and engulfs your friend. He lets out an ‘oof’ and returns the hug. You watch in astonishment and elation at the mini family reunion.

Namjoon’s mother exudes a warm and maternal aura. She’s much shorter than her son and a bit smaller than you but the similarities between them are fascinating. The woman has chubby cheeks and dimples on each side, spectacles that slide down her nose and she adorns a soft smile. For a moment, you’re envious of their obvious close bond. If only…

“And who is this?” She pulls away and stares at you.

What a day to come dressed in shabby clothing. The one time that comes in every blue moon when you’re not in high heels or your fur coat, you’re meeting your friend’s family. You curse yourself at how underdressed you are, hair unwashed and Namjoon’s sweatshirt drooping off of your frame. If any of your parent’s friends saw you, they’d laugh and snicker at your face - you’d be punished at home.

“H-hi.”

You shut your eyes, not knowing why but on instinct. In the back of your mind, you’re fearful of being screamed or hit, the way your mother would react if you were caught dirty. “You’re very cute!”

“Mom!”

Your eyelashes flutter as you peel your lids back. What? She doesn’t mind that you’re a mess?

“Joon, is this your girlfriend?” His mother’s eyes are blazing and the two of you feel a flush wash down your entire face.

“N-no! We’re only friends.” Namjoon laughs awkwardly, pulling you closer. “She plays tuba. We’re uh, music classmates. N-nothing else!”

“I see.” She comments and looks over to the plastic bags on the counter. Her son follows her gaze and quickly takes it, thanking the cashier that was staring at their nails in boredom. “Why don’t you both come back for dinner then?”

“We were going to-”

“I already made stew at home and RM misses you.” Namjoon’s mother flashes her orbs to you. “Dear, come join us! I’d love to get to know you. It’s not everyday that my boy has made a new friend.”

The harpist opens his mouth to complain that he’s not in elementary anymore and that he’s perfectly capable of socializing but it dies in his mouth when you blink up at him. Your eyes are rounded, as if asking for his permission or if it’s okay to accept the invitation.

“Okay.” He internalizes the sigh, “let’s go.”

//

It takes a little bit over an hour to get to his parent’s home. Namjoon’s mother drives the entire way, merely listening in to the conversation and Namjoon admits that he doesn’t have a license...for humanity's sake. You can understand him without needing a solid explanation.

He tells you that he moved into the apartment with Jimin to have closer access to school. It makes sense since commuting daily for hours would be an absolute disaster - you know what it feels like, especially with your own studio apartment situated in the downtown area. But that aside, he also fills you in on some other details in his family. RM is his family’s dog of four years, named after Robert Morton.

“The composer?” You lift your eyebrow and he nods. The harpist ducks when you grin and lightly punch him in the shoulder. “You’re such a nerd, Nams. Have you always been like this?”

“For the record, my dad likes the name too!”

Halfway through the trip, his mother pipes up and inquires a few questions about you; what your exact major is, if you have any plans over the summer and your favourite foods.

It isn’t long until you arrive at the quaint home with the clean cut lawn and you meet Namjoon’s father. His parents...are positively, definitely, incredibly, fucking adorable. Aside from being extremely kind to you and opening their arms up immediately, his dad was waiting on the porch in his rocking chair for his wife to return. He’s shocked at your presence and welcomes you. Even the dog doesn’t go to Namjoon first but to you (which makes the harpist complain incessantly).

“By the way…” You frown, silencing his whines.

“Is there something on my face?” His brows furrow, watching as you study his features. Namjoon takes a step back. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I think you look better with glasses.”

“Oh.” The kid slides them on the next time you turn around to look at him. “I-uh..found them..?”

The house is tiny. In comparison to your parent’s mansion, it might be a shed out back or the quarters where the servants sleep. But it’s cozier than high roofs and dangling chandeliers, golden sewn rugs and sparkling furniture.

“Here! Eat more!” Namjoon’s mother scoops more for you. “It’s not everyday that we have such a lovely guest.”

“O-oh, thank you.”

RM’s perching his head in your lap, both for affection and to win your heart over and give him some food. You only occasionally reach down to scratch behind the dog’s ear. “So, I hear that you’re a musician? What do you play?” His father asks in interest, brown irises that gleam and remind you of the harpist.

“I play tuba.”

“Wow!” He exclaims, putting down his utensils. “That’s an incredible instrument, not very common unfortunately. I’ve always loved the ones in the brass family.”

Throughout the entire dinner, you and Namjoon’s father discuss musicality and the dying classical genre. You get so heated up that the dog whimpers and Namjoon has to remind you to keep eating. His father expresses that it’s been a long time since he’s had such a discussion and he feels invigorated and refreshed. “I’m so happy to hear that the future generation realizes the importance of preserving the histories of music. All the songs nowadays...”

“They lack everything from lyrics to the composition. It’s trash.” You finish off, managing to go without cursing. The boy across from you has to hold in his laughter but you’re dead serious.

By the time the delicious home-cooked meal has been consumed and you feel stuffed as a turkey, everyone’s cleaning up. You try to pitch in and help but Namjoon insists that he can do the dishes. The Kim family gathers into the kitchen and you decide to give them some space, wandering the small hallway and living room instead.

You find photographs of Namjoon, his toothy smile, standing next to his bicycle to squatting in front of a weird looking statue. There are even trophies of him winning math and science competitions stacked on the shelves by the television. He was exceptionally cute as a kid, dimples that shone through, hair that was even more ruffled than he is now. Back then, his glasses, clothes and shoes looked too big for his body, as if they were purchased for him to grow into.

“He’s been clumsy since the day I’ve had him.”

His mother’s abrupt but gentle voice nonetheless causes you to jump. She smiles and indicates a photo hanging on the wall. “This was taken of him when he was running at the park. Poor child tripped on his shoelaces and fell flat on his face in the mud.”

True to her words, he’s on the ground with big fat tears on his cheeks, perhaps only three or four years old.

Namjoon’s mother watches your enamoured smile and matches it. “Take care of him if you can. Sometimes I worry he’ll break his leg...again….or that he’ll find himself in bigger trouble. The boy wears his heart on his sleeve and it’s easy for him to get hurt.”

“I understand.” You know all too well what she’s talking about. “I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you.” His mother puts her arm around your shoulders and you jolt a little, not used to any form of physical affection. Still, her touch stays firm and warm. It’s a motherly hand, a comforting one at that. Your own parents never really did anything like this and you feel slightly envious, though thankful that Namjoon grew up in such a loving household. He deserves it.

“I-I’m not dating him.” You feel a wave of guilt overcome your senses. You’re a nobody in Namjoon’s life. You’re barely friends with him - you’ve threatened him, manipulated him in the past, lied and pained him in the way his mother just told you to protect him from.

You don’t deserve this hospitality. You don’t deserve this love.

Her lips tug in the same way her son’s do. It’s familiar and reassuring. Dimples mark each side of her cheek, a sheepish and timid gesture that soothes the turmoil entrenched in your chest. You feel tears fill your eyes. Namjoon’s mother is truthful, genuine and she murmurs to you, “it’s okay.”

It’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to receive kindness. It’s okay to accept love.

You turn around, embracing the woman and she laughs heartily, patting your back in a constant beat. The woman treats you like you’re her own, is pure and virtuous as her son. She smells of vanilla and cookies. You wonder if this is what a mother’s supposed to be like. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, dear.”

//

If the transportation system had one bus driver, he’d probably be sick of seeing you and Namjoon around. Thankfully, there’s not only one. But the seat you both plop down in is the exact same, in the back, with you at the window seat and him near the aisle.

“Your parents are so nice.”

“Yeah, well...sorry. They probably kept on asking you if we were dating.” He exhales in exhaustion, leaning on your shoulder to regain strength. “They get really excited by that sort of stuff.”

“Why?” You give him a playful yet incredulous expression. “You never brought girls home?”

Namjoon chuckles, “believe it or not, I have never been popular. People either hated me or became scared of me.”

You snort out, “I know how that feels.”

It’ll take at least another half-an-hour to go back to the city. For a second, you regret not taking the offer of staying at his parent’s home but you didn’t want to intrude too much. Plus, you feel slightly embarrassed for embracing his mother for absolutely no reason.

At the very least, Namjoon agreed to stay at your place tonight since it was closer than making the trip all the way to his apartment. “You know...I kind of like you without glasses…”

He grunts in a murmur. “Why do you keep changing your mind?”

You let out a giggle, leaning your head on top of his. You shut your eyes, letting them rest from the long day. “I’m joking. I’ve been teasing you for the past month…”

“...What?”

“I like you if you’re wearing glasses or if you’re not wearing them. In any shape, way or form-” Your open palm that’s rested on your thigh is suddenly interlaced with his fingers. You don’t flinch from the movement but savour his warm touch. “-anything’s fine.”

“You’re mean.” Namjoon sulks and you smile.

“I know.” There’s a long silence as the bus rides through the empty streets, the darkness of the outside causing you to be drowsy and nearly drifting into a deep slumber. But you feel oddly content at this moment with Namjoon resting on your shoulder and your own head leaning on his. And there’s been a question, probing in the back of your mind and not leaving you to rest.

“Would you ever date someone like me?”

He stays quiet and you’ve wondered if he’s asleep. But he answers.

“....yes. I would.”

“Even though I’m so overbearing and my personality is horrible?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N.”

“You don’t either, Namjoon.” You whisper gently underneath your breath and Namjoon’s hand tightens around yours. “You’re kind and sweet. You could do a lot better than me.”

“But I don’t want anyone other than you.”

“See? There you go again being sweet.” Even with your eyes shut tight, you can feel the heat sweep up your cheeks. Your heartbeat is thundering against your ribcage, like a march to its demise, your rhythmic instrument to the melodic strings. “You give me a hard time, you know?”

“Why?”

You promised yourself that you would be honest. No more lies. Not to yourself.

“Because I like you.”

“Oh…..”

The two of you don’t open your eyes. You’re too scared to face the consequences of what you’ve uttered. Namjoon’s too petrified that he misheard. Instead, you rest upon each other for the remainder of the ride. But neither of you can sleep when your pulse is skyrocketing.

______

There’s no time to discuss feelings or dwell on that night when the performance has approached.

You might throw up.

It’s arrived quicker than you expected, in a blink of an eye, and the past few weeks have felt like a blur. Due to your anxiousness, you came five hours prior, listening and meeting the other musicians. You have a few business cards in your bag and you’ve mustered up smiles but you can’t remember any of their names or the conversations you’ve had. It’s been a ‘good luck’ here and a ‘I’m looking forward to it’ there.

“I-I think I might be sick, Namjoon.” You grab onto his arm, repressing the urge for vomit to spew up your throat. Your grip is probably wrinkling his nice suit and it most likely doesn’t look graceful the way you’re crouching over in your black, sparkling dress….which at any minute now could turn into a putrid green.

“Listen to me, Y/N.” He places his hands on your waist, making you stand up to look him straight in his warm eyes. Namjoon looks particularly good today. He can clean himself up well when he abandons his oversized clothing for something fitted and gels his hair into a neat style. “We’re going to be fine. It’s going to be okay.”

“N-no.” You can hear the applause from the crowd, the violin sounds dying out in the auditorium. “W-we didn’t practice enough. We didn’t rehearse at all for five days! What was I thinking?! How are we ever going to fix the piece?! Oh god. Oh god!”

Before you can lose it, Namjoon pulls you in for a tight embrace, arms wrapped around your body. “Breathe for me. Just breathe.” You adhere to his commands, taking a shaky inhale for a steadier exhale. “Good. Now pay attention to what I’m about to say...I don’t care.”

“Wha-”

“It doesn’t matter to me if we go out there and beast it or royally screw up. To me, having this chance to play with you is enough. Can you believe this is our first time that we’re going to play a duet together?” He asks you in an excited voice, pulling away to stare into your irises. Namjoon chuckles and you smile. “Remember when you told me that someday we could play together? Well guess what? That someday is here.”

“You know you’re being ridiculously cheesy right now?”

“I don’t care.” He repeats and shrugs. “I’m just happy that I can stand here at this place, ready to play my instrument and be with you. No matter what, it’s going to be something worth remembering.”

The claps fade away and the conductor of the symphony turns around to begin the preface before you enter. You feel calmer than before, less tense and stiff. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“At the end of this performance..” There’s more applause from the audience members. “I’d like to take you out on a date.”

You’re stunned. Namjoon smirks. Your mouth drops. He faces forward.

“Please welcome, L/N Y/N and Kim Namjoon, here to perform Giancarlo Aquilanti’s Tango!”

The curtains draw open, hundreds of people greeting you with claps and you’re forced to move forward. Your instrument is taken from your case on the way to the front and the harp is situated a few feet away. You sit yourself down, not having enough time to scan the spectators. But you’re certain that your professor, Namjoon’s family and your friends are here to root you on, somewhere in the crowd.

Your hand shakes as you place it on the valves and you shut your eyes to regain composure. Everyone is watching you, the esteemed musicians from behind to the people in the audience. There’s so many things that can go wrong. You can envision each and every one of the thousands in a flicker, like flipping through the pages of a book. Though the sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach is gone.

“Ready, Y/N?”

And when you open your eyes, the dimpled boy is sitting beside you. It’s okay.

“Ready.”

You inhale a breath, lips attaching to the mouthpiece and at the same time, Namjoon plucks a string. Your brass instrument cuts through the air in a crisp sound. It trembles and shakes against the tall ceilings, a cavernous and robust vibration that sings out with its deep timbre. It’s the sturdy tone of Earth, the luscious noise of land and soil that weighs those from drifting away.

As the score moves onto a more playful section, you transfer over to the rhythm while Namjoon interchanges to the melody.

The graze of his fingertips and tugs cause multiple chords to float like clouds drifting on a summer’s day. His gentle sound blurs when he steps on the pedal, the glissandos following the arpeggios. It’s gentle and mellow. He plays the angel’s instrument, twining his music together with yours. His genuine and direct emotions softens your harsher sounds, melting it’s sharp edges.

You sneak a glance at Namjoon, only for your eyes to lock with his. It takes everything within you not to crack a smile when he grins in such a silly manner.

If you are the ground, Namjoon is the sky.

Rather than incorporating raw need and desire, the sensuality is light and sweet. Your instruments are dancing with each other in a courtship full of giggles and smiles, gradualing building up instead of a burst of passion and tension.

The audience and musicians fade into the back and you focus solely on the music, the sounds and Namjoon. For a long moment, it feels like you’re back with him in the cozy confines of the practice room. It’s only when the deafening applause breaks your trance do you realize it’s over and you’re strung back into reality.

“We did it!”

“We did it.”

The people are in a standing ovation and the both of you barely manage to get up and bow as the performance sinks in. You can’t feel your face or your fingers. At least, not until Namjoon threads his hand through yours. “Hey...Nams?”

“I-I’d love to go out on that date.” The adrenaline doesn’t pause. You’re out of breath, stepping backstage. The curtains fall behind you. He smiles and you can’t stop yourself from spitting out the most desperate of words. “I-Is it okay if I kiss you right now?”

He doesn’t answer. The harpist simply takes one stride forward and opens his palm to graze against your cheek. You inhale and he presses his soft lips against yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. You let out a yelp when he lifts you off the ground to get closer. You smile against his lips and Namjoon even begins to laugh.

You break apart with a red swollen mouth, batting at his chest. “W-what kind of kiss was that?”

Namjoon is still giggling. “Sorry. I was just waiting too long to do that-”

You reach in for another. This time, you can’t help but laugh as well.

“Me too.”

[kimonobeat]

aiko bon “Profile Interview” Chapter 5 (3/3)

ーDoes that ‘no barriers’ approach also show the way you interact with your fans? I’ve seen your fans say hello to you many times during interviews. It almost surprises me just how frank you are with them.

aiko: Maybe so. I guess, like… I’m a strange kind of shy person, aren’t I? I chat very casually with my fans whenever they call my name. I just feel like it should be special because I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again-- or maybe I won’t ever again, you know? One time I even waited about 5 minutes for a fan. This guy stopped me on the road and said, “Excuse me, are you aiko?” I said yes, and then he said, “My girlfriend’s younger sister is such a big fan of yours that she made a whole website about you on her computer. Do mind if I take a picture to send to her?” I said, “I’m sorry, my management won’t let me take pictures with people.” So then he asked, “How about an autograph!” I said, “I don’t mind doing that for you!” But then he was like, “I don’t have a pen or paper on me though. What should we do?” I said, “Oh, I don’t have one on me either… What indeed… Um… Oh, you could buy them at the convenience store over there!” He said, “Ah, I don’t have my wallet on me either right now. My girlfriend works in a store just over there and she’s got her wallet. I’ll go get it from her. Do you mind waiting for me? Do you have the time?” I said that I did, and waited for 5 minutes.

ーI know of people who’ve waited to GET autographs, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard of someone waiting around to GIVE an autograph. (laughs)

aiko: For real though! (laughs) Anyway, I did an autograph for him with the colored paper and a pen he bought. And then he said, “Um… My girlfriend’s on her way over right now too, so if you have the time… if you don’t mind waiting…” I told him I didn’t have the time and then went home. But yeah, I really do just talk to my fans like normal when I meet them on the street. Like, I almost feel like people might just mistake us for acquaintances sometimes. (laughs) I especially end up talking to my girl fans because they’re just sooo cute. You know how you can have a totally different impression of someone just from talking to them once? That’s why I put so much care into every single encounter I have with my fans, and why those moments where people were particularly unkind really stick with me. I’ve got a good memory for people who said certain things back then but treat me completely differently now.

ーIt must be a big shock to experience someone treating you differently between then and now, I’m sure.

aiko: Oh, it is. Like someone being blunt and kind of potty-mouthed when we first meet, but then halfway through they start talking politely-- like, calling me “Ms. aiko” all of a sudden. There were some people I met for the very first time who said things like, “Oh, you’re that one girl who thinks character is sooooo important, aren’t you?” But then I released “Kabutomushi”, and “Sakura no Toki”, and then when I release “Boyfriend” they started speaking very politely to me. They’d say, “Long time no see!” and I was like, “YOU… !” (laughs)

ーYou’ve always been pretty straightforward deep down though, sort of like a man.

aiko: That’s true. I think my personality’s sort of boyish because was I always surrounded by boys when I was little. I’m still pretty boyish to this day. (laughs) There’s a lot of times where, feelings-wise, I sort of turn into a guy. For example, I’m definitely a ‘guy’ when I’m in love with someone. I’m not the kind of person who would say, “I can’t believe you’d cheat on me!” If that happened to me, I’d just say, “HEEL!” (laughs)

ーBy the way, about the “Teens Music Festival” contest you entered when you were in junior college. Did you think of that as getting your foot in the door to becoming a pro?

aiko: I did, but only vaguely. I went to go see a underclassman who was in it the year before. “Aw, that looks like fun,” I thought to myself. ”Oh, so ‘teens’ means you can only be in the contest if you’re in your teens? Guess I’ll give it a try too!” So then I put my name in. You didn’t need to record a demo tape to send in for that contest either. They had this system where you paid 20,000 yen for some tickets and had to sell them yourself. Basically if you paid the 20,000 yen, you got to sing on stage. (laughs)

ーThat was in January of ‘95, right?

aiko: Yeah, when I was 19. The “Teens” contest started off with a competition in my hometown, then after than it was progressed to a prefectural competition, the Kinki regional competition, then a national competition at Shibuya Park. I sang in the “Miki Gakki Umeda Shop Competition”-- the Great Hanshin Earthquake happened earlier that morning. I didn’t actually win first place in that store’s competition; I got the runner-up prize or something, I think. But only the person who won first place got to move on in the competition. “Guess I lost. Oh well,” I thought to myself. “It is what it is. It’s still a nice memory!” Then the next day, I got a phone call that they were doing try-outs.

ーWas it some kind of secondary try-out?

aiko: I’m not sure what to call it. I guess you could say it was a consolation match. I was asked to sing in it, and this time I managed to make it to the Kinki competition at Miel Parque Hall. Two people got the grand prize in that competition. Me and these girls from Okinawa were the ones who were chosen. Then when I went to the national competition in May of that same year, I won first place. Degawa Tetsuro, Morikawa Miho, and producer Sakuma (Masahide) were on the judge’s panel for that one, I think. I met Shiina Ringo and Taniguchi Takashi there for the first time too.

ーWhat song did you sing at the “Teens Music Festival”?

aiko: My own original song. They didn’t mind if you did a cover song, but since it was a contest and I didn’t know who would be watching me perform, I figured I’d might as well give it a shot using my own songs. Plus my friends were all singing their own songs, so it just felt normal to me to use an original song for a contest. Then I wrote my very first song, “Aitsu wo Furimukaseru Houhou (How to Make Him Turn Around)”, the coupling track on the single “Sakura no Toki”.

ーSo you’re saying that you won your very first contest with the first song you ever wrote?

aiko: Yup! I sang “Aitsu wo Furimukaseru Houhou” from the local store competition all the way to the national competition. I sang it with a friend accompanying me on the piano.

ーThat’s also a pretty huge comeback there, considering you went from competing in a ‘consolation match’ all the way to winning the national  competition.

aiko: You’re right, now that I think about it. I got pretty lucky.

ーI also find it pretty amazing that you sang the first song you ever wrote. You’d really never written your own song up until you decided to compete in that contest?

aiko: I really hadn’t ever made anything before that, not even in music school. It was only after I joined that contest that I thought about writing a song for the first time in my life.

ーYou never even thought about writing one?

aiko: Never! I’d never even tried. I’d never come up with a melody, or a rhythm to go with it, or even written lyrics before then. I’d just generally never thought to write one.

ーBut when you DID decide to write one, you were able to.

aiko: Yeah, I was! I had no idea how to go about writing a song, but fortunately for me, the melody and lyrics all came to me at once. I was like, “If I’m gonna be in this contest… I guess I’ll try and write one too!” And it just all came to me. I wasn’t able to use a piano then, so I just sang and wrote it that way. The “I hate~ regretting things~” line just came to me so naturally! “Which is why I’m gonna do what I want~” rolled off my tongue while I was singing too. The guy I was dating at the time said, “That’s a nice song. Who is it by?” When I said it was mine, he told me, “Well, it’s a great song!” You could say that motivated me to get all done in one sitting. (laughs)

ーDid anything inspire you to make that first line come to mind?

aiko: No, not really… It just sort of popped into my head. In that song, I’m singing about the time I got dumped about a year before I wrote that song. We were both part of the same group of friends, so we hung out a lot even after he dumped me. I might've been dragging things out too, I guess. Anyway, it became a song a year after that.

ーIt sounds as if you took to writing and composing a song for the first time pretty easily.

aiko: Like fish to water! I went about it in a real unorthodox way though. I had no idea what a verse or a chorus was, so the song is structured weirdly. You know how normally, songs go ‘A, B, chorus, A, B, chorus, bridge, chorus’? Or ‘A, B, chorus, A, B, chorus, bridge, B, chorus”? “Aitsu wo Furimukaseru Houhou” goes like ‘A, B, chorus, bridge, key change, chorus’, and then it ends. During the contest, the people from Yamaha paid a lot of attention to that. “There’s no pattern to the way you wrote this,” they said. “There’s a pattern you could follow: A, B, chorus.”  I was like, “Oh, shut up! I’ll just write an even better song then!” (laughs) The things they said to me back then still stick with me to this day, though. I still hesitate when I write songs because of it.

ーAbout making your songs follow that “A, B, chorus” structure, you mean?

aiko: That, and when I’m writing lyrics. One time they tallied up all the times I used the words ‘atashi (I)’ and ‘anata (you)’. They were like, “See how much you use those words?” Oh, they also once told me to keep writing songs with a ‘phone’ motif. “Wait, what? Phones!?” I said. They said, “You’ve got pink phones, pay phones, home phones, cell phones… all kinds of different phones. What do you communicate over the phone? What do you feel, and how you communicate that to the person you’re talking to using that phone? Make that into a song. Heck, you’ll make ALL of those phones into songs.” I’m still sort of traumatized by that. My producer’s told me SO many times not to worry too much about it, but I get hung up on it anyway.

ーThey were putting all this attention on you when you still didn’t know anything and had just started writing songs. Maybe that’s why it’s drilled into your head.

aiko: Maybe. I didn’t have a single clue, back then. Even at vocal lessons I’d sit there and think, “Why do we do this crap?” Entering the contest got me to go to vocal lessons for a little while, but you know those things you do like, stretch, sorta? Like, where you sing “Ma ma ma ma ma, ma ma ma ma ma~” to practice your enunciation? I haaaated that. I thought to myself, “Why ‘ma’ of all things? Ugh, this is dumb!” The one time I went, they told me I had no stomach muscle at all. I was told to come back for my next lesson on a certain date, but then that day I wasn’t able to go because my nose wouldn’t stop running. Eventually I just kept making up reasons not to go, and only ended up going one more time after that. (laughs) My experience with vocal lessons ends there.

ーYou didn’t give it another try when you got signed by a major label?

aiko: No, no I didn’t. My vocal lessons were all those times I did karaoke in high school. (laughs) I didn’t take any classes where they made you do that “Ma ma ma ma ma~” stuff in music school, either. I went to karaoke boxes with my friends and karaoked myself to death instead. I used to sing for the better part of 5 hours. So much that I would’ve been happy to lose my voice. My throat’s always been really strongーit was when I was in the pep squad in high school, tooーso I never once lost my voice. I sang pretty much every single kind of song there was and never had to worry about my throat.

ーHave you ever tried to sing enka at karaoke?

aiko: I didn’t sing any enka. I’ve had to sing it at my dad’s bar a few times, though. Stuff like ”Ringo Oiwake”: “The apple~ petals~” You know, “Ringo Oiwake” or “TAXI”, things an elementary school student would sing. “Raise your hand~ for a~ taxi~” Or “If only you’d hold me~”. I’d sing even though the customers would complain that a little brat was singing. (laughs) You might say that, for me, karaoke has always given me a place to get that enunciation practice. I think that’s where I formed my way of singing.

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[mlnmoongle]

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Genre:  Romantic Fluff, Cute, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst

Pairings: TaoHun;

Rating: General Audiences;

Length: oneshot;

Note: completed;

Warnings: relationship issues;

Summary: It's been a year since they met and started dating. Now they're back to where they first met and Tao admits to wanting to marry Sehun but Sehun doesn't react the way Tao thought he might.

++++

OR Tao tells Sehun he wants to marry him someday and Sehun gets emotional. 

Honestly, I wrote this on a whim because I'm trying to avoid schoolwork so please enjoy some sappy taohun.

Also, the events in this fic take place after Reluctantly, but you don't need to read that fic to understand this one!

Thank you for reading. :)

Sehun laced his fingers with Tao's, giving his hand a light squeeze.

They were back at the water fountain where Tao first approached Sehun when he asked to borrow his phone and now they were huddled close on the edge of the structure keeping one another warm. It was winter again so the air was cold and the sky was dark. The lights from the streets dimmed the surroundings and created a very intimate mood. The last time they were here at night was a year ago when they didn't know each other and Sehun insisted that they come back here on their year anniversary of dating. His reasoning being it was the start of the happiest year of his life and he wanted to make sure he never forgot when his life turned around for the best. Before meeting Tao, Sehun's previous relationship was rocky at best and demeaning at worst, and the months leading up to that night were dark, unpleasant, and Sehun wanted nothing more than to forget about it. Tao now knew all about Sehun's previous relationship. After several months of dating, Sehun finally opened up to him about it and the amount of comfort Tao had to give Sehun because of the cruelty of his last relationship boiled his blood. Sehun's past relationships had all been superficial, and his worth only weighed in his looks. His previous partners made sure Sehun knew that they didn't love him for him but for his body.

Sehun placed a chaste kiss on the top of Tao's head as Tao leaned his head on Sehun's shoulder with a content sigh. "Hunnie?" he smiled, tilting his head to catch Sehun's eyes, but Sehun hummed and lay his head carefully against Tao's. "I'm really glad we met," Tao confessed, but not for the first time. No, Tao saying this was a regular occurrence and not one Sehun ever got tired of hearing.

"Me too," Sehun said with sincere honesty.

"The next time we come here I want it to be really special," Tao said, thinking aloud.

"You're not going to propose, are you?" Sehun answered with a gibe. The small laugh that Tao gave was a dead give away of his motives and he didn't need to say more, however, Sehun went quiet.

"Tao..." Sehun sat up slowly and Tao sat up too, gazing at Sehun with fondness that still made Sehun's complexion redden. "You know that's a silly thought. We can't actually get married," he informed with a small, disappointed smile. "Besides, we've only been dating a year. You can't be certain that you want to marry me." This time he nudged Tao's shoulder who smiled wide in return. With a shrug, Tao looked down at the ground. "I am certain though because..." Tao paused for a moment, searching for what he wanted to say. Sehun made a noise of question and Tao was continuing. "You make me really happy, Hunnie. Whether we can or can't get married is fine as long as we're together, but isn't the thought nice?" Tao asked smiling bashfully now. That was new. Usually, Tao was shameless, straightforward, blunt and oblivious, but right now Sehun could tell he was a little shy about the topic.

When Sehun didn't respond, Tao quickly filled in the silence. "Because I think the thought is nice. Sometimes I think about where we would have our wedding. Who we would invite. How it would look and what our cake would taste like," he rambled. "Most importantly, where we would go on our honeymoon." He teased and finally looked at Sehun, wiggling his eyebrows and made Sehun rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "You're an animal," he tried to hold back his smile as he shook his head but Tao was squeezing his hand and giggling. When Tao quieted down his smile went small but still fond as he looked down at the ground again. "Do you not think about it?" He asked quietly, the hesitance in his voice made Sehun's chest tighten. Yes and no, Sehun thought. He and Tao have been a domestic couple since the first few months of dating, so honestly, it was almost as if they were already a married couple, but the actual thought of planning a wedding, picking out a cake, or even rings? That was beyond Sehun and was both frightening and exciting to think of but it was a thought that Sehun wouldn't linger on. He didn't want to risk jinxing himself or their relationship in any way so Sehun kept his thoughts in the present, in the now rather than the when and if.

"It's crossed my mind a couple times but I mean..." Sehun finally admitted with a small shrug. His voice was soft and his grip loosened in Tao's, but Tao was squeezing his hand tighter. "It's okay, Hunnie if you haven't," Tao reassured. "I get ahead of myself. You know that. We don't actually have to ever tie the knot." Tao's smile was sincere, and Sehun hated that his eyes were glossing over and fighting back tears.

Tao immediately noticed and let go of Sehun's hand to place both of his hands gently to Sehun's cheeks. "Hunnie? Look at me?" he asked with a frown, coaxing Sehun's head towards him carefully. Losing the battle, Sehun sniffled as a tear or two slowly rolled down his cheek to wet Tao's hands. "It's okay, Hunnie. We're okay," Tao whispered, moving his face closer to Sehun's and pressing his forehead against the others. "I'm sorry I brought it up---" But Sehun was shaking his head, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut. "No," he choked out. His chest felt hot and his throat constricted with emotion. "No, Tao. It's just. It's stupid..." Sehun moved to press his forehead to Tao's shoulder. Tao was wrapped his arm's around him, holding him tight. "Nothing you ever have to say is stupid." Tao soothed, gently cradling the back of Sehun's head and idly playing with his hair. Sehun took a deep inhale, his breath hitching as he grabbed the front of Tao's coat tightly. Tao could do nothing as Sehun sobbed against his shoulder, and this way okay. Tao didn't mind, he never has and never would. He always wants to be Sehun's shoulder to cry on even if it was hard to endure. It was always difficult because Tao hated that he couldn't magically make Sehun feel better but what he could do was be strong for Sehun and let him cry it out. Still, it was absolutely painful.

After a few minutes, Sehun calmed down. His breathing was heavy and he was sniffling but at least now he wasn't bawling. "I'm sorry," he breathed, his grip on the front of Tao's coat easing. Sehun turned his head towards Tao and Tao could feel his warm, staggering breath against his cheek.

"Don't be sorry," Tao's voice was light and understanding as he turned his head to place an awkward kiss high on Sehun's cheek. He could taste the salt on his lips and it made him frown. "You don't ever have to be sorry, Hunnie. And you don't ever have to get married---"

"It's not that," Sehun interrupted abruptly. He wanted to sit up but it was easier to say what he was going to say if he didn't have to look at Tao. Tao's face scrunched in confusion and he went to pull away but Sehun held him close. "It's just," Sehun started then sighed heavily. "It's...No one's ever said that to me before," he finally admitted, heat crawling across his face and to his ears.

"Say what?"

"Tao..."

"Hunnie, say what? If I said something that hurt---"

"No one's ever said they wanted to marry me," Sehun said quickly as if it would be less embarrassing. It wasn't.

"Oh," Tao breathed and Sehun was sitting up but not looking at Tao. He dabbed his nose with his gloved hand, and Tao brought his hand up to dry Sehun's eyes. Seeing Sehun so emotional and upset by the talk of marriage made Tao's chest ached and he wanted nothing more than to pull Sehun close to him again and whisper sweet nothings to him, to kiss and touch him until Sehun could physically feel his love; to tell Sehun that he loved him over and over and over until Sehun was sick of hearing it. But for now, what he could do is run a comforting hand through Sehun's hair and offer a bright smile that he knew Sehun loved. "Well, I meant every word of it," Tao's voice was low now. Sehun was still looking at the ground and occasionally sniffling. "I want to marry you, Hunnie. I want the wedding to be big. I want our friends to attend. I want to argue over what cake flavor to have and music to play. I want to annoy you with what color napkins would match the seat covers. I want to stress about what venue would be best." This brought a weak smile to Sehun's face. Tao was unbelievable and over the top but that's what Sehun loved about him. Well, one of the things.

"And," Tao spoke again this time catching Sehun's attention. His voice was low and husky, "I was serious about the honeymoon," and Sehun looked at him, barking a laugh and shoved Tao playfully. "You're seriously the worst, Huang Zitao," he chuckled, a smile easily covering his face again. "But I love you anyway. Come here," Sehun laughed lightly and wrapped an arm around Tao's neck to pull him into a kiss. The kiss was languid, warm and Tao never wanted to stop kissing him, but when they pulled away they stayed close and gazed at each other. Sehun lowered his eyes and his smile was small. "Thank you," he whispered and Tao kissed his forehead in return, earning a giggle from Sehun.

"You wanna go get some food with me?" Tao asked with a grin and Sehun nodded, a smile breaking across his face. "Always."

[writing-corner-of-ashley]

Whisper of the Heart (1995) Film Review

Spoiler review! Read at your own risk. 

Whisper of the Heart is a 1995 animated film directed by Yoshifumi Kondo, who was supposed to be the successor for Studio Ghibli. However, he died in 1998 before he could direct more films, so Whisper of the Heart can be considered special on its own.

I’m going to sound really biased discussing this film, because it’s a personal favorite of mine. Whisper of the Heart is a romantic and coming-of-age film, centering on two main characters: Shizuku Tsukishima and Seiji Amasawa.

Shizuku, the main protagonist as the film revolves around her point of view. (Photo retrieved from Reddit, ctto)

Seiji, the secondary protagonist (or deuteragonist to sound posh) and Shizuku’s love interest. (Retrieved from Glow blogspot, ctto)

It can also be considered a slice of life film since the circumstances were grounded on reality although it also contains fantastical elements which stems from Shizuku’s imagination.

So I’m going to start with my positive observations because those are my prominent thoughts on this film. I will start first with the characters themselves because they’re the ones important to the film and in making the story alive. 

Positive Observations:

Shizuku and Seiji are relatable characters, they are like you and me. I believe a film’s strength relies on its characters. If the story itself is good, it will not be worth something if the characters themselves are bland and empty. However, in this film, I felt pleased knowing Shizuku and Seiji. Most importantly, I felt myself connecting and resonating with them - especially Shizuku.  

Shizuku sitting inside the train on a normal day. (Gif not mine, ctto)

Both Shizuku and Seiji were in the adolescent period where personal growth is very crucial and changes are happening in transitioning to an adult. It was at this point they were both trying to figure out who they’re supposed to be; finding their place in the world; and what future they were envisioning for themselves. 

We can relate to that kind of reflection in ourselves because we all underwent the same way: questioning and discovering who we really are and what we want. It also includes the journey towards achieving the goals we have set in our lives in order for us to feel happy and fulfilled with ourselves.

Seiji escorting Shizuku home. (Gif not mine, ctto)

Frankly, I’m also still in the adolescent age although I’m older than Shizuku and Seiji in this film (seeing as they’re both 14) and I am still trying to figure out what I want in my life. 

It was easy to resonate with them because they’re also experiencing realistic life experiences - going through change that at first makes us in despair (as evident when Shizuku feels down when she feels like she’s changing; Seiji breaking down in tears when he attempted to make his first violin) and the indecisiveness we’re experiencing for our futures.

Shizuku feeling down as she felt herself changing. (Gif not mine, ctto)

None of what they’re going through is fictional so it is very easy to feel what it’s like in their shoes - which would include the air of awkwardness between the two of them that is reminiscent of adolescent romance. 

Schoolmates trying to eavesdrop in Shizuku and Seiji’s conversation, which made it more awkward. (I personally found this scene funny) (Gif not mine, ctto)

Shizuku and Seiji are very likeable characters. So aside from the equation of making the characters relatable and realistic, there is also another equation of making them likeable. Likeability plays an important factor in making the character that can resonate with the audience. If the character fails to be likeable (ehem, Rikako) then the audience would be reluctant to make a connection with them despite having real life experiences anyone can relate to. However in the case of Shizuku and Seiji, they were both really engaging characters.

Shizuku and Seiji talking comfortably with one another. (Gif not mine, ctto)

They were both interesting and I actually want more of them, which is why they’re perfect for one another (the shipper comes out I’m sorry). 

What made it even more amazing is that Shizuku and Seiji can be recognized separately from one another. They’re not the type wherein you can mention one character and yet their only notable trait is their relationship with another character; not having any distinction of their own. 

What’s great about Shizuku and Seiji is that they have their own unique characteristics and situations: Shizuku being the more expressive aspiring writer with a supportive family and Seiji being the more silent aspiring luthier yet with a reluctant family.

Shizuku writing. (Gif not mine, ctto)

Seiji crafting a violin. (Gif not mine, ctto)

They have their own strengths and weaknesses as a character, as well as positive and negative traits (albeit minimal) just like any human being. What also made it great is that any negative traits of theirs do not overpower their positive traits therefore making the audience feel warm, sympathetic, and drawn towards them because one has to consider that they’re both protagonists and not antagonists.

Seiji being caring towards Shizuku. (Sigh. Very cute!!) (Gif not mine, ctto)

Although there are films with complex protagonists like positive and negative traits altogether become mixed; the film has to explore the circumstances and situations they are in to make the audience understand and connect with them in ways to make them likeable and intriguing. In the case of Shizuku and Seiji, they were both very likeable and interesting, which is already a terrific start in progressing the story. 

Shizuku and Seiji’s chemistry is perfect. It was also in both Shizuku and Seiji’s distinctions that ultimately made them a great pair. Shizuku is the more expressive one: she knows how to deal with words and she almost always impulsively says what she feels or wants, as noted by her best friend, Yuko, who said (non-verbatim), “You always know how to express yourself, unlike me.”

Shizuku feeling very annoyed after meeting Seiji. (Gif not mine, ctto)

She is also considered to be scatterbrained or someone who usually keeps their head in the clouds and invested in their own world - as she has a sense of vivid imagination.

Shizuku so caught up in her own imagination she almost got ran over. (Gif not mine, ctto)

She is also the type who has the tendency to panic and worry so much, instead of maintaining a composure. She is also prone to insecurity, denoting a lack of confidence in her abilities - which also contributed to her immense self-pressure. 

Shizuku stressing herself out over finishing her story. (Gif not mine, ctto)

She also has the tendency to isolate herself when she’s pressuring and struggling with herself such as when she tries to finish her book. She also bottles up her feelings and keeps them to herself: not really sharing her qualms with her family. Aside from that, despite her love for Seiji, she still tends to compare herself with him; even to the point that she felt she wasn’t good enough for him.

Shizuku opening up to Yuko about not feeling good enough for Seiji (Oh boy can I relate). (Gif not mine, ctto) 

Seiji, on the other hand, is the more silent one: he knows what he’s doing because he invests more in actions than words. This was evident when he started checking out books before Shizuku so that she’ll be able to notice him, rather than just confessing to her in a straightforward manner.

Seiji admitting to have been checking out books before Shizuku to get her attention (ughhhh this is so cute huhu). (Photo retrieved from Pinterest, ctto)

Unlike Shizuku, he’s calm and collected as well as blunt, especially whenever he would be weirded out with Shizuku’s seemingly outlandish comments.

Seiji being weirded out by Shizuku’s comment of his violin as she said it’s like magic. (Photo retrieved from Fio Picolo’s Tumblr, credits to at.kawaiianime)

He is also more confident in pursuing his dream of becoming a luthier, even risking having a strained relationship with his family. He even risked going out of his comfort zone to go to Cremona, Italy to truly hone his skills and not pursue the conventional path of going to high school and college.

Seiji playing the violin (Tbh, he’s very handsome in this scene ugh) (Gif not mine, ctto)

He is also more experienced than Shizuku as he had already started the pursuit of his dream while Shizuku is still starting her journey - which would explain his rather nonchalant approach. 

The one thing Shizuku and Seiji have in common is that they were both extremely passionate about what they wanted in their lives. It was passion that binds them together and served as the foundation of their relationship, indicating that they both have the same mindset.

Seiji and Shizuku performing “Country Roads” with translated Japanese lyrics. (It’s an amazing cover btw!) (Gif not mine, ctto)

It was also their distinctions that made them the puzzle piece for one another, as Seiji balances out Shizuku and they can learn things from each other. 

Even though they started on the wrong footing as Shizuku first found him rude as he teased her by mocking her written graduation lyrics of Country Roads, their relationship eventually developed overtime as they got to know each other.

 Seiji’s first words to Shizuku. (Gif not mine, ctto)

I also think the scene when Shizuku discovered that Seiji is the same boy who checked out all of the books she has been borrowing was pivotal, because Shizuku has been fantasizing or rather have her own image of who Seiji Amasawa might be and it all came crashing down that it was the same rude boy she has met. 

It is an indication that having a certain image of someone might not be accurate to how they really are in real life, and this revelation seemed to give Shizuku a dose of reality. It denotes that while having a wild imagination and being a fan of fiction is great, it does not really bode well if we apply these things in real life.

Shizuku and Seiji arguing when Shizuku found out he’s the Seiji Amasawa. (Photo retrieved from The Asian Cinema Critic, ctto)

In other words, Seiji served as the reality that Shizuku needs in order to grow more as a person. She realized that she needs to figure out what she wanted to do in her life; that there’s a life beyond her books; and she needs to know herself more. This was affirmed by Shizuku in the end, “You’re the one who inspired me, Seiji.”

The scene where Shizuku uttered that sweet phrase. (Gif not mine, ctto)

Another symbolism of their relationship is when Seiji is cycling upwards on a steep hill and he insists on carrying Shizuku, which she disagreed with. She then helped him push the bike upwards and said the phrase, “If I’m going with you, I’m going to help you.” 

This represents how important reciprocity is in a relationship in order to make it progress - as evident that they both managed to push the bike to the top despite getting tired.

Shizuku helping Seiji go upwards on the steep hill, affirming that she doesn’t want to be a burden for him. (Ah, yes, beautiful). (Gif not mine, ctto)

Alongside this, since they also shared the same mindset of being passionate in what they want, they are also willing to commit to each other - therefore making their relationship strong. The film did a wonderful job in creating a romance that’s healthy and a great example for everyone. 

Seiji hugging Shizuku and loudly proclaiming he loves her. (A very sweet and heartwarming moment ugh) (Gif not mine, ctto)

The film teaches us that pursuing your passion, albeit unconventional, is what really matters. In life, people would usually think that studying hard is the key to have a great future. People would not think twice of finishing college education, like it was as if it was already mandatory to finish college to have more job opportunities and to determine what career we would like in life. It makes us think that being able to finish college or even pursuing a graduate education equates to success and fulfillment.

Shizuku writing down notes from books, although she’s not really studying for her lessons. (Gif not mine, ctto)

However, this film showed us that’s not always the case. There are some dreams and jobs that do not require the traditional high school or college education like the case of Seiji, who wants to become a luthier. 

Just because someone wants to pursue a career that does not require the conventional pathway to success doesn’t mean they will become a failure in life; in which unfortunately Seiji’s family and Shizuku’s older sister, Shiho, doesn’t think that way. 

Shiho snatching Shizuku’s headphones as she writes, an act of disturbance. (Gif not mine, ctto)

They thought that straying away from what is considered “normal” or “practical” is a bad idea as they seemed to hold financial stability on a higher level than passion. 

However the film was trying to tell us that passion is what’s more important even when you have to take the risk going on your own path and doing things differently. It tells us that it’s passion that will engulf our hearts in merry flames and will ultimately make us feel happy, regardless if it’s not conventional.

The film showed that pursuing one’s passion is no easy journey. It truly portrayed how one’s journey towards achieving their dreams will be hard especially when one is just starting. 

This was symbolized in the imagery of a rock with gems within it as shown by Seiji’s grandfather, Shiro Nishi. Nishi explained that the rock is just like an artisan: still rough, raw, and natural. For a beginner, no one should expect perfection, but they can work in finding the gems within themselves. Once an artisan finds their fullest potential, then they will make an effort in polishing and refining it.

Nishi explaining the rock’s symbolism to Shizuku. (Gif not mine, credits to AnimePlus.TV)

It’s a simple yet wonderful imagery that tells us the road towards our dreams is still a long way and it’s up to us to continue further down the rocky road - eager to fully furnish our own shiny gem. However we must also be ready to face the hardships that we’ll be dealing with - such as the feelings of crippling despair, self-doubt, anxiety, and pressure that could tempt us in giving up.

Shizuku being very tired from all the writing she has been doing. (Gif not mine, ctto)

It’s normal to feel like we’re not good enough; comparing ourselves to others; and worrying if we will ever perfect the precious gem we have found within ourselves. 

However, we must always remember that we wouldn’t know until we try. We have our own paths to walk on and comparing our progress to others constantly is not fair for us. 

Other people, even when it’s our significant other, a friend, or a family member, is also in their own unique journey through life. Not all of us are the same because we are different and diverse from one another but we can still find ways to connect with others.

Seiji holding Shizuku’s hand. (A really tender moment and they stayed like that for awhile ughhh) (Gif not mine, ctto)

This connection will serve as our support system as we continue our pursuit in achieving what makes us happy in life and they will be there to remind us to never give up; that there will be light at the end of the long tunnel. It will all be worth it at the end. 

The sunset at the ending scene (beautiful visuals!) (Gif not mine, ctto)

Well that was long. It was because I really loved this film hence I have a lot of positive things to say about it. Honestly, when I re-watched the film to determine what negative observations I had: frankly there’s a little to none. I tried thinking of a negative observation but they were too far of reach. However, I do notice some aspects that can contribute as to why people wouldn’t really like it or consider it as impactful.

Negative Observations:

The film could be considered too idealistic for some. There are some people whose dreams in life include going down the conventional path in which they could aspire to be a teacher, doctor, engineer, or other jobs that are considered “respectable” or “financially promising”. 

They would also most likely agree with the perspective of Shiho, who thinks that being practical in finding a job that will satisfy you financially is what’s most important. They would also think that this film is too “feel-good” or rather very idealistic.

Shizuku’s apartment on a rainy day; representation of a dim reality. (Gif not mine, ctto) 

They would not resonate well with Shizuku and Seiji because of the couple’s idealistic mindset that could be considered “naive” for them. Although I myself shared Shiho’s sentiment on some level and this is what I have been wrestling with in the past years: financial stability or passion? 

Anyway, some people think that having financial stability will ultimately make them feel happy on itself hence that’s their dream. In that mindset, it is understandable that they would not appreciate the film in its entirety as well as the characters, so it fails to foster a connection with them. They would rather see a film with Shiho as the protagonist instead. 

Shiho shouting orders at Shizuku while she’s about to take a shower. (Gif not mine, ctto)

The film’s romance could also be considered as “corny” to some. I personally love the Shizuku and Seiji romance as well as the ending when Seiji proposed future marriage. 

But I have also seen some reviews that thought it’s too sudden and they found it corny to watch - which is why Hayao Miyazaki defended it on an interview where he explained that he wanted Shizuku and Seiji to commit to something because a lot of young people these days are too scared for commitment and would rather be in a moratorium stage for ages and I TOTALLY agree.

Seiji shyly proposing to Shizuku in the ending scene. (UGH THIS IS MY FAVE SCENE OF THEM I SCREAMED) (Gif not mine, ctto) 

Hook-up culture is very prominent because a lot of people in the adolescent stage were too apprehensive to commit to a relationship, so I personally found the Shizuku and Seiji romance to be a breath of fresh air. It is very wholesome, pure, and healthy. 

However, there are some people who find it cringey to watch such romance - maybe because they weren’t into it and it’s too sappy for their taste. I don’t judge because we all have different tastes.

It could also be possible that they like the story but the couple’s romance ruins it for them, in which another Ghibli film, Kiki’s Delivery Service may be better for them.

It also has the same premise as Whisper of the Heart, but it’s more fantastical and focuses mainly on the dreams of Kiki. It has no romantic subplot in the sidelines, so it’s definitely a recommendable film to anyone who is not into romance. 

Those were really the only negative observations I have seen from the film, because I find it to be a simple yet heartwarming masterpiece. I really admired Kondo’s work in this, because he really captured what an adolescent is going through in pursuit of a dream that seemed so far away.

Shizuku running in trying to find her gem in her dream. (Gif not mine, ctto) 

I really resonated well with Shizuku as I’m also an aspiring writer on my own with a huge amount of self-doubt and anxiety to the point that I’m also bordering on becoming Shiho. 

However, this film struck gold within me and I got inspired to pursue writing. I want to refine the gem I found within myself; which is why I’m writing this review now.

Shizuku basking in the view of West Tokyo. (Gif not mine, ctto) 

Thank you, Mr. Yoshifumi Kondo for creating such a wonderful film that I can go back to. Rest in peace. I rate this 5 out of 5 movie tickets. Bravo.