#i understand a decent amount! trying to respond is another matter entirely

[beachboysnatural]

This is why I have trouble talking in German because to say anything above a kindergarten level sentence you have to conjugate literally everything you say. I spend less time figuring out verbs than I do figuring out my articles and adjectives and possessive pronouns and

[another-emotional-wreck]

Title: Movie Night

Pairings: None except for a hint of Monica x Peter cause they're cute imo I'm sorry

Summary: Movie night with the Hex trio and Peter... until it's not. Also, metallokinetic Peter.

Warnings: No warnings as far as I know, but there's angst and a decent amount of fluff

Word Count: 2.2k words

Author's Note: This is my first fic for anything Marvel/Xmen related. Kinda nervous but mostly excited. Feedback is really appreciated as there's a pretty good chance a lot some of the character's actions could be pretty ooc.

*******************************************************************

“Wait… what?” Peter asked for what had to have been the millionth time. For a guy who could run fast, it was seriously taking him way too long to get this.

Darcy sighed again. “Alright, so you have to press this button--”

“The little sideways bow thing?”

“Uh, sure, why not. So you press it and then you’re gonna see a lot of different names. The one you’re gonna pick is called ‘Peter’s earbuds’.”

“Okay. Wait how does it know my-- oh wait, it beeped! The lady said it’s… paired? Now what?”

“Now you can pick a song to listen to.” Darcy pressed an icon of a square with a black background and a green circle in the middle. “Anything in particular?”

Peter was silent for a moment. "What do people listen to these days?"

Darcy took the phone from Peter before typing the name of a band into the search bar. His face lit up as Darcy handed it back to him, the screen filled with different songs to choose from. After a moment of scrolling, the opening chords of Dumb by Nirvana filled his ears, and for just a little while, his mind was calm. It was quiet.

“It’s nice to know at least music hasn’t changed since the 80s."

“I wouldn't say that exactly," Darcy mumbled.

Before he could question her statement, Monica spoke up.

"The 80s." She and Jimmy walked through the front door, both carrying grocery bags in their hands. "Is that where you're from?"

Monica placed the groceries on the counter before sitting down on the couch across from Peter.

He squinted at something in the distance. “I think so. I uh…” fuzzy images filled his mind. Laughing at jokes next to a boy with the strangest glasses. Playing in the snow with a woman with red hair. Sharing popcorn in a cold room with a girl with a mohawk and a blue devil.

A serious conversation with a man who meant a lot to him.

Peter winced at the sudden sharp pain behind his eyes. “It’s kinda… kinda hard to sort through.”

“That’s cool,” Darcy shrugged. “I felt the same way during English class back when I was in high school.”

Kurt Cobain’s voice rang in his ears. My heart is broke, but I have some glue. Help me inhale, and mend it with you. Peter nodded his head as he hummed along clumsily, not quite getting the tune right.

Once the pain faded from behind his eyes, Darcy noticed the way Peter’s face seemed to brighten at the sight of a certain someone.

“Guess what!” In less than a second, Peter had moved from his spot next to Darcy onto the couch beside Monica. “Darcy showed me how to get these little pods to play music--”

“They’re called earbuds--”

“And I can listen to whatever I want. How do you feel about this band called Nirvana?” Peter offered an earbud to Monica.

She laughed. “Right now, Jimmy has his heart set on this Lord of the Rings marathon.”

Jimmy shook his head as he took two bags from Monica and placed them all on the counter. “I stand by my claim that Lord of the Rings was and will forever be the best trilogy to ever exist.”

“Sure, Jimmy.” Darcy crossed the room to inspect the groceries. “Popcorn, sherbet, and Sprite? You got orange sherbet?”

Jimmy raised his palms in surrender and pointed at Monica. “Take that up with her.”

“Orange sherbet is the best flavor and, no, I will not be taking any questions.”

Darcy scrunched her nose. “And you’re sure powers were all you got from going through the Hex so many times?”

“You mean aside from having superior taste?” Monica joked. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

*********

“Frodo didn’t deserve Sam,” Monica stated as the movie played on screen.

Shoving another handful of popcorn in his mouth, Jimmy responded. “He was under a lot of pressure! The corruption from the ring only got worse the closer they got to Mordor, so you can’t really blame Frodo for everything.”

Monica wrinkled her nose at the kernels that flew out of his mouth as Jimmy spoke. “Whatever you say. Plus it doesn’t matter cause Darcy’s on my side anyways.”

“You say that as if she didn’t fall asleep the second the movie started,” Jimmy snorted as he gestured to Darcy, who was snoring rather loudly on his shoulder.

Peter chuckled at the banter between the two and at Monica’s annoyed expression, catching her attention.

With Darcy practically on top of Jimmy yet somehow also managing to take up half of the couch, Peter and Monica were seated rather close together.

“Unless you’re laughing at Jimmy, that noise shouldn’t be coming out of your mouth,” she joked, having to turn her head to look Peter in the eye.

“It’s really not my fault that you always seem to be wrong.”

“That’s a lie, actually, but alright.”

“See?” He snorted. “Wrong again.”

Monica glared at Peter who just chuckled and adjusted his position.

After no more than twenty minutes of the movie playing on screen, the sound of Monica snoring told Peter that he and Jimmy were the last two awake.

“They never stay up for my movies,” Jimmy muttered.

Peter turned in his direction. “They never what?”

“We try and do this movie night a couple of times a month. So far, they’ve fallen asleep on every single movie I’ve chosen. I mean that’s obviously just because they don’t appreciate classic media--”

“Right,” Peter mumbled. “That’s why.”

Jimmy paused as he shoveled another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “But I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone’s been back for a little while now, but there’s still this… this underlying fear that it’ll happen again. This nagging feeling that people are gonna be taken away from us, but this time they won’t come back.”

He looked at Darcy, still completely unconscious on Jimmy’s shoulder, and Monica, who was curled up under Peter. “They feel like family” Jimmy admitted. “We haven’t even known each other for that long, but I’d do anything for these two, and I’m comfortable saying they’d do the same for me.”

“I’m happy for all of you, really.” Peter sighed, feeling the clasp on Monica’s necklace dig into his side. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous. I have a few memories--”

Taking a look at the confused look on Jimmy’s face, Peter continued. “Well, you all know that I’m not from here. Wanda just pulled me out of my own time and brought me here. ”

“I mean we know it wasn’t intentional--”

“That’s not the point!” Peter did his best to rein in his anger. “The point is, some random lady took me away from my time. Away from my home, my friends, my family. And I’m not even saying that I blame her, but why did it have to be me?” When Jimmy didn’t respond, Peter continued. “I get these… flashbacks. Fuzzy memories of home. They used to be pretty rare but lately, I’ve been getting them more often. One of them keeps showing up.”

“You think you can try and remember?” Jimmy suggested.

After a moment of silence, Peter decided. “Yeah.” He adjusted Monica so that her head rested on the arm of the couch instead of his side, and something strange happened to his chest at the sight of her sleeping so peacefully.

Jimmy pulled out a notebook and pen. Peter cleared his throat as Jimmy nodded for him to begin, ready to jot down whatever he could.

“It was me, a little girl. An older woman, could’ve been my mother? And--” Peter furrowed his brow as a dull pain began to form behind his eyes and a white noise began ringing in his ears. “Someone… someone else. They, uh-- a man. I think.”

“If you can’t remember who, try to focus on where.”

“No no, I’ve got it. They uh. We--” It was beginning to hurt. “No. Wait. Younger people… friends, they had to be.”

The pain became more intense. The noise in his head was getting louder. It hurt. Different images flashed in his head, all fuzzy and difficult to clear up. His mind reached out to grasp one but just as his fingertips brushed the surface, it was gone.

A patient teacher bound to a wheelchair.

A charming blue devil.

A shapeshifter with a warm heart.

A man who could shake the earth itself.

“They keep moving,” Peter said through gritted teeth. “They… t-they won’t sit still.”

“Alright, man,” Jimmy closed the notebook. “If you need to take a break we can--”

“No! I wanna do this. I need to do this.” Peter’s voice cracked. “I don’t-- I can’t forget them.”

“Okay. Alright, that’s fine but you-- uhh…” Jimmy furrowed his brow at the sight of the pen in his hand beginning to twitch. He took one look at Peter and his eyes grew wide the moment he began to understand. “Peter. Hey, you’ve gotta take a breath. You gotta-- shit.”

Jimmy took in Peter’s current state. Pale and shaky with droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. His eyes wide and panicked. “Uhmm, shit, Monica! Darcy! I really think now would be an appropriate time for the two of you to wake up, given the circumstances.”

As he moved to shake the two women awake, Peter’s struggle grew more intense. The pain had now spread throughout his entire head and turned into a pounding sensation. The noise was deafening as it bounced around in his skull.

Monica woke quickly to see Peter pale and in distress. “Jimmy, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know! We were trying to clear up the memories in his head when he started shaking and--”

“I can see that, but what’s happening?”

“Uhh…. I think stuff is about to start floating…”

Darcy’s eyes fluttered open. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy continued, still trying to wake Darcy. “Cause, my pen was shaking and your necklace is moving a lot, and Darcy, I think your glasses are about to fly off of your face.”

Monica looked down to see her necklace float away from her chest, then watched in what seemed like slow motion as each object Jimmy mentioned flew towards the same source.

Peter.

Seconds later the tv in front of them crumpled in on itself. “That was expensive,” Darcy sighed, now fully awake.

Monica cocked her head, her gaze flickering from Peter to Jimmy to Darcy. “Is he--”

“Yep,” Darcy said loudly

The three sat in awe and terror as Peter sank to the floor in agony, screaming as he drew his knees to his chest. His hands pressed over his ears.

Darcy looked into her kitchen and her eyes grew wide. Locking eyes with Monica and then Jimmy, they all spoke at once. “The knives.”

Monica scrambled to Peter’s side while Darcy and Jimmy ran to get as many knives as they could out of the house.

Darcy turned towards Monica. “You, uh, sure you got this?”

At Monica’s shaky nod, she followed Jimmy into the kitchen.

“Okay,” Monica began. “Peter… I’m gonna, um. I, uh-- okay I actually have no idea what I’m gonna do, but I need you to just, try and, uh, I don’t know, breathe?”

“I can’t.” he panted. The breaths he took were uneven and rapid and his face was stark white. He wasn’t responding to her. “I can’t forget. I-- no, no no I don’t want to forget. They’re slipping. I can’t reach them. Help me.”

She knew he wasn’t going to be able to calm himself down. Monica called the other two in there.

Jimmy ran into the living room first. “We weren’t-- oh.”

Darcy quickly followed. “Holy shit.” she looked at Monica. “You know what to do?”

Monica nodded. “But I haven’t exactly done it before and there’s a good chance I’ll pass out after.”

“I mean, if it means he stops screaming bloody murder, I feel like it’ll be worth it.” Jimmy looked at Darcy with wide eyes, who just shrugged.

“Right,” Monica shook the nerves out of her hands. “Okay. Alright.”

“Y’know, there are still knives and other extremely sharp objects in the kitchen so--”

“I got that, Darcy!” Monica snapped. She took a deep breath before turning all of her attention to the man in front of her. “Okay, Peter? I’m sorry, but none of us have any idea what to do, and so, this was the next best option.”

She closed her eyes and placed both hands to his temple, struggling to keep them there as he twisted in pain. When her eyes opened again, a bright blue shone in place of their usual brown.

His energy came through in tendrils. The super-speed feeling like electricity itself, sharp and cold, while his metallokinesis was slow and warm and heavy. It was new and painful and in that moment Monica understood his pain.

While his powers had come to a pause, his memories were a different matter.

“I gotta keep going,” Monica slurred. Her eyelids were heavy.

“Yeah that’s what we’re not gonna do,” Darcy said.

“He’s still in pain!”

“And now so are you! We can find something to sedate him but, right now, you can’t--”

Monica responded by placing her hands on Peter’s temple once again, this time taking out smaller amounts of energy. Just enough to put him to sleep for a little while.

She then promptly collapsed.

“Energy absorption,” Jimmy stated. “Impressive.”

Darcy sighed. “Please just help me get them to bed.”

“Right. Okay.”

[oh-crap-im-attatched]

Ok, so I’ve been really into batfamily reverse age au’s lately, but a lot of the fics I’ve read just insert Tim Drake into Jason’s story with minor changes. That’s fine, but it got me thinking about what would’ve happened if Tim was the second Robin.

And I may or may not have gotten a little out of control.

Anyways, enjoy.

So Talia would drop Damian off on Bruce first. Which, I mean imagine Bruce having to learn how to parent with Damian. Anyway, Damian becomes Bruce’s first sidekick, not Robin because Dick came up with the name Robin, so for the sake of this rant I’m going to call him Blackbird. I think that would go pretty similarly to canon, with Damian eventually wanting to go off by himself, having a falling out with Bruce, etc. I imagine reverse Damian as less bratty than regular Damian, because he doesn’t have a Robin legacy to live up to or a mantle to earn. He was the first. I mean he’s still Damian, and still has to learn how to go from assassin to vigilante, but he is definitely more confident with his place. I think he’d be a lot like Bruce because 1. Regular Damian is already similar to Bruce and 2. He didn’t have any other role models, so there was no Dick Grayson to admire instead. So, eventually, Damian goes off by himself as a new vigilante (that isn’t Nightwing.)

Then Tim shows up. Bruce is upset that his son left and is trying to learn how to deal with the fact that Damian grew up, no longer needs him, etc. Bruce probably blames himself partly, thinking that he was a bad parent to Damian, and starts getting more violent with criminals. Taking his own guilt out on them, when a boy shows up at his door talking about how he knows that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Now there was no Dick Grayson doing a quadruple flip for Tim to figure it out, so he had to figure out a different way. Maybe he met Damian at a gala and was able to connect his formal speech patterns with Blackbird’s, and then everything else clicked into place. Anyway, Tim saw that there wasn’t a Blackbird anymore and saw that Batman started getting more violent with criminals and needed a sidekick, so he volunteered. It would take way less convincing from Tim in this au, because Damian didn’t die, especially when Bruce finds out about the neglectful parents. Tim would be closer with Bruce right off the bat too. So Tim becomes Blackbird. Everything’s great for a while, and when Tim’s parents die, Bruce adopts him. I think that Tim would always help the street kids, because he started becoming friends with some of them while following Batman and Blackbird.

Now, I’m thinking that Tim encountered the Joker in a very different way than Jason. Tim is smart enough that he can’t be easily tricked into a trap like Jason did, and he’s less impulsive. I think the same thing that happens to Jason would happen to Tim though, because the timing wouldn’t change. The Joker would want to traumatize Batman by killing his sidekick at the same time as canon. Who that sidekick is doesn’t really matter. It probably would’ve happened similarly to in Batman Beyond, where Tim was chasing a criminal or Harely and ended up getting knocked out. After that, the same thing in canon would happen, beaten, blown up, dead.

Bruce would be devestated. He’d probably be even more guilty than in canon because he let Tim convince him to be Blackbird in the first place, when Tim wasn’t even part of the family yet. He’d get even more violent than before, probably suicidal, starting to lose it. Damian would come back to Gotham to try to help his father, and mourn Tim himself. Damian and Tim didn’t have a strong relationship, but Damian respected his intelligence and the boy started to grow in him. Damian would feel that he should’ve gotten to know Tim better.

Then Jason would come flying into everyone’s lives. Bruce is worse than ever, when he comes across a boy stealing his tires. He’s surprised and a little shocked at the absolute balls this kid has, stealing from the batmobile, and dazedly asks if Jason was hungry. Jason would remind Bruce of Tim, and how Tim was always so good with the younger street kids and how he would want to help Jason. Long story short, Jason gets adopted. Jason in this au wouldn’t become Blackbird for a decent amount of time, even when he discovers Bruce is Batman, because Bruce is so scared at the thought of losing another son, but he eventually relents. Jason wouldn’t be able to get away with as many impulsive moves as in canon, because Bruce is way more cautious now. Anyway, Batman calms down, and everything’s normal for a while.

Then Tim comes back.

The same thing would happen as in canon. Ra’s Al Ghul heard that the smart Blackbird died, and starts plotting. Cut to grace robbing and Lazarus pit ex machina. Now, Tim wouldn’t respond to the same manipulation that Jason did. He doesn’t want people to die, he wouldn’t be that mad at Bruce for not killing the Joker, because he understands Batman, he followed him, studied him, flew with him. He knows why Bruce didn’t kill the Joker. No, Ra’s would have to resort to different tactics. Jason. Ra’s would play it that Bruce immediately took a new son off of the streets, a new Blackbird. That would get to Tim. If Tim thought that Bruce immediately got a new sidekick to put in harm’s way, didn’t even pause, and a street kid at that, who wouldn’t have a better alternative. That would get Tim mad. Tim wouldn’t be mad at being replaced, but that he got replaced with a kid who didn’t know better, immediately, and that Damian didn’t stop it. That would break through Tim’s walls enough for Ra’s to get to him. And given a year, Ra’s could manipulate him into wanted to kill Bruce. “For everyone’s sake,” Ra’s would say. “How many kids will he get killed.” Damian would be used as fuel too. Ra’s would say that he knows Damian. That Damian would stand by and let it happen if it meant he got to stay as a solo vigilante. That Damian doesn’t care about anyone else. Tim’s smart enough to logic his way through most of these lies, and he knows full well how much trouble Ra’s is, given that Damian was his predecessor, But, it wouldn’t matter how smart Tim was, given enough time and sole exposure to the league. Ra’s would shape Tim into his heir. Damian was a failure in that regard, and Tim is smarter anyway.

Eventually, Ra’s would be confident enough in Tim’s brainwashing that he would bring Tim back to Gotham. Not as the Red Hood, but as an assassin. A very well-trained assassin. Tim wouldn’t just kill people like Jason did, he’d probably have killed people with the league but not a lot. Forcing Tim to kill a lot would shake him out of the brainwashing more, because of his morals. No, Ra’s would be the one to get Batman’s attention. When Bruce eventually figured out Ra’s was in town, he’d go find him, and find Tim instead. Tim would have swords on him, and be in league of assassins uniform, but would probably be holding a gun at Bruce, because he could still beat Tim in a one on one fight. Damian would be there too, because he can handle his grandfather, but when he sees Tim, he’d blanch. Because, despite not being incredibly close to Tim, that was still his little brother, his dead little brother with his grandfather behind him. Oh, Damian would know exactly what happened.

Bruce would try to talk Tim down, and so would Damian, but with Ra’s right there as well, Tim wouldn’t shake enough to back down. Then, Jason shows up. I think that’s what gets through to Tim. Jason would’ve heard about Tim, and wanted to be just like him. He’d say as much to him. That is what would make a Tim pause, because according to Ra’s, Bruce made Jason Blackbird, Tim didn’t even think about if Jason had to convince Bruce to become Blackbird. He wasn’t able to with being around Ra’s constantly for a year. But with Jason standing right in front of him, completely unharmed, saying he wanted to be like Tim. That would shock Tim’s brain enough to actually think about what Damian and Bruce were saying. It would be like his entire word view suddenly tilted. His hand would start shaking. Damian would try to get him to see reason again, to reach out to Tim for what is pretty much the first time, and Ra’s gets cocky. He forgets that Tim’s intelligence doesn’t belong to him or Bruce. Tim would be reevaluating everything and start seeing more and more holes with Ra’s arguments. Tim’s more rational that regularJason, he’d be able to see that reverse Jason seems to want to be Blackbird, just like Tim wanted to be. I think that untimately it would take Bruce reaching out to him, calling him son, calking him back to truly break him. I think that Tim would go after Ra’s, pit madness still being a thing. Tim would probably almost kill him because a Ra’s would be caught off guard. Damian would be the one to stop him, to pull him back.

Afterwards, Tim would have a lot to sort through, and still wouldn’t exactly trust Bruce. He’d talk to Jason though. He and Jason would be very close, with Jason helping with a lot of his recovery. Giving constant assurance that he’s ok and that he loves being Blackbird. Tim would be very protective over him. Damian and Tim would get a lot closer too. Damian helping to undo all the conditioning and lies that Tim endured while with the league. Damian understands, and Tim would see that. Given enough time Tim would eventually go back home for good, go back to Bruce. When he finally rejoins the family he’d become a solo vigilante. His name would be Cardinal. A bird representing dead loved ones watching over you.

Bruce “dying” would still happen and I think that Tim would still be the one to figure it out, Damian might be a little skeptical because of Tim’s admittedly less than amazing mental state, but would offer assistance. He’d seen enough people coming back to life to be to sure that it’s impossible, and Jason really likes Tim at this point and wants Bruce back, so he’d be all for it. They’d bring Bruce back together, without the league of assassins, although Tim still finds a way to blow up half of Ra’s bases.

Dick would be like a breath of fresh air after the chaos of the first three. Bruce and the family would go to the circus for bonding. Maybe Tim mentioned seeing a circus performance when he was little, a Bruce wanted something to help Tim get even more comfortable being around him and the family again. They’d see the Flying Graysons fall, and see poor little Dick Grayson crying over the dead bodies of his family and immediately come to a consensus. Dick would get adopted soon after. He wouldn’t become Blackbird very quickly, as Jason still held the mantle, and maybe he wouldn’t at all. Maybe when the family finally deemed him ready to join them as a vigilante, he’d take the name Robin. The older siblings would love Dick and want to protect this boy with endless energy and a wide smile no matter what. Tim now having a strong urge when it comes to protecting his younger brothers because of Ra’s, Damian finally knowing how to big brother (in a very Damian way) at this point, and Jason getting to take care of someone younger than him. All of them would be a strong family unit at this point. And no one could tear them apart again.

[tainted-wine]

Honorable Mention

I heard @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ SOS signal to all Hizashi fuckers and I have responded accordingly. Sorry for being late to the party!

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: None, except for spoilers for the current arc.

The interview room was warmly furnished in a way to make guests feel at home, not like they were in a professional setting. The beams from the sun were perfectly aimed to make the smiling hero’s face glow. Attractive, and quite distracting. 

It was all going fairly smoothly so far. Hizashi held no animosity toward anyone for missing out on the Top 10 Party. Every question about his personal feelings on the matter was answered with something along the lines of “It’s nothin!”

“Not gonna lie, I’m bummed that I don’t get to wear the steampunk outfit they had planned for me. Have you seen the design? I would’ve had an entire phonograph attached to my neck!” He laughed and slapped the armrest of his plush chair. “But it’s not like I wasn’t there, I was the one announcing the winners. That’s what I do best!”

You nodded as you scan your list of planned questions. “That’s true. Your presence has always been there, especially in the anime.”

“Exactly! Who else is gonna call out new characters and explain their quirks? That role is for me and only me, baby!”

“I agree, but after the work you’ve put in during the War Arc, many of us believe that you deserve more love. Especially after your infamous DJ Punch.”

“Ohohohoo,” Hizashi chuckled lowly at the pleasant memory. “Now there’s something I want! A few more right hooks to that doctor’s jaw. Sometimes screaming just doesn’t cut it, ya know? I’d rather get a little more hands-on, ‘specially when things get...personal.” His expression flashed into something darker, but the mysterious thought appears to leave his mind as quickly as it came.

You ignore it and stay on topic. No need to make this interview heavy or distressing in any way. “It was a very pleasant surprise for us, seeing you get up close and personal like that. I never pegged you as the physical type.”

He shrugged. “I hear that all the time, but come on, what do you guys think I do when I can’t use my super hazardous quirk? Do you think I just stand there and commentate?”

Well, when he puts it like that... “My apologies, I suppose it just never crossed my mind.”

He held up a hand to halt any rising feelings of guilt. “No worries, listener. I don’t mind my reputation as just ‘The Announcer Guy’, it makes things all the more satisfying when I see the shock on a villain’s face after I bust his nose.”

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

Frankly, the interview wasn’t nearly as passionate and bitter as many were definitely hoping it would be, but you didn’t want to antagonize the friendly hero for the public’s entertainment. If the poll results didn’t bother him, then that’s just how it is.

After shaking hands, you both stood up and straightened yourselves out. You uttered a “thanks again” to him before taking your clipboard and pen, but Hizashi speaks up the second you take your first step toward the door.

“Y’know, it’s not that hard to throw a decent punch.”

You turn to him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. How about a free lesson in exchange for a nice clean interview. I appreciate it!”

That’s...well, you had things to get done, but, “Alright.” Your interest in Present Mic wasn’t just an act put up for the sake of the interview. You're a genuine fan that isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to personally learn something from him.

The hero gently took your things and placed them to the side before taking his place right in front of you. “Okay, go ahead and take a swing at your boy.” His arms opened up, waiting patiently for your attack.

You shifted awkwardly, unsure of the proper way to punch, so you just ball your hand into what you believe is a decent fist and weakly shoot it forward.

A gloved palm stops it before making contact, his grip gentle yet firm. Emerald eyes examine your fist closely — it all has goosebumps forming on your skin for reasons you don’t know. Or at least you don’t think you know. “Not bad! Always make sure your thumb is on the outside and your fingers curl into your palm. Gotta take that impact without damaging your hand. Try again!”

You withdraw your hand and take his advice, positioning your fingers like he told you before launching another strike. He catches it again, this time with a hum of approval. “Ya wanna hit me with your knuckles, not the flat of your fingers. Turn it up and try again!”

You do just that. Another punch, another quick lesson.

Hizashi gets closer than you ever imagined, those talented hands positioning your hips and shoulders at more appropriate angles. “The power comes from your whole body!” He states before motioning for another go.

This isn’t at all how you planned to spend your break after the interview, but you had no complaints even as you exposed your clumsiness to the renowned hero. He was a teacher, after all. You just didn’t expect him to be as proficient at teaching self-defense as he was with English.

“So,” he starts up while casually catching your fists. “How did you personally feel when I punched Dr. Douche in the face?”

The question makes you pause, but a quick gesture from Hizashi urges you to keep going. “I...well, it was admirable.”

More than that. The raw fury emitting from the normally carefree man when he charged Ujiko was...enticing. Exhilarating.

It was hot, alright? It was pretty hot, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Thanks! Good to know that breaking jaws gets people pumped! I’ve heard a bit of feedback from my dear listeners. Some found it shocking, some found it kinda sexy.”

Well shit.

“I can understand that.” It left your mouth before you could even think. Why the hell did you even comment on that, you idiot?

Hizashi quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “Can you, now? Give me your two cents on it.”

Your stance falters and you almost fall forward during your next swing. You thankfully catch yourself before he can do it for you. That would’ve made matters even more awkward. “That’s—of course, it’s common to find sudden aggression in an otherwise friendly person attractive.”

“Is that what it is? I just gotta do less screaming and beat more faces in so that the ladies will find me hot?”

“Of course not! You’re always—”

You stop yourself.

Whoops.

Hizashi lowered his shades just enough to give you the smuggest look that has ever graced his face. “Always what?”

Shaky stutters and darting eyes are your answer. Desperate to ignore the heat rising in your face, you fire a punch that’s much more powerful than intended.

Even with the added speed and force, he sees it coming and not only catches it, but sends your entire world spinning when he pulls you forward and twists your arm until you’ve completely twirled around with your back pressed against him. It all happened so fast that you didn’t even notice the startled squeak you made.

Your wrist is being held tightly against your lower back. The breath from his chuckle can be felt against your ear which is way too close and you might melt. “Uh-oh, someone just got a hold of you!” He exclaims in a fake panic. “How do you get him off?”

Shut up, brain. That probably isn’t what he meant.

Wanting to escape his grasp before he notices the effect he’s having on you, your free arm whips back with the limited amount of room it has, hoping to knock him back and loosen his grip, only for him to catch your other wrist and wrap your arm around the front of your body.

“Yikes, that didn’t work either!” The bastard had you trapped, his hold getting tighter every time you squirmed. You should probably stop because he’s only getting closer, his chest rising and falling against you at a much slower rate than yours. “Looks like you’re in trouble!”

One minute you were having a professional conversation with Present Mic. The next, he’s giving you a free fighting lesson. And then the next, he has you completely subdued and pressed against him.

And with his voice low enough to make your body shake, he speaks right into your ear again.

“I think you’re pretty hot too, listener.”

[defenderrosetyler]

A Prince and His Swan Prologue

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Minor Mention of injury and death

Off we go! Thanks again to @flamencodiva​ for being Beta and @beskaradberoya​ for her dividers!!

Sam Winchester and Odette Y/L/N had been friends since they were children. Odette was the only daughter of a widowed king, and Sam was the youngest of King John and Queen Mary of the neighboring kingdom across the oceans. King John and Odette’s father had constant talks of joining their kingdoms during their children’s infancy. It was decided that every summer, Dean, Sam, and Odette would spend the summers together in the hope that Odette would fall in love with one of his sons. 

Each summer passed with its own challenges. Odette was polite with the palace staff, while Dean and Sam caused havoc around the palace. John sighed one afternoon as he and the other adults sat around the table playing cards. “Well, at least the children seem to be getting along.”

“Don’t worry, John, this arrangement will click with one of them, I promise.” “It’s a perfect match” Odette’s Father smiled over at the other monarchs,

“Sam, she’s making me play dress up,” Dean groans as Sam shakes his head. “At least she’s not beating you at cards. This is the fifth hand she’s beaten me at.” Odette giggled as she lay out her winning hand. 

The summers passed, and before long, all three children were grown. Dean had already had his 18th birthday celebration, and now it was Sam’s turn. 

“Father, please, put me down! This is just another ball that I’d rather not be a part of!” Odette argued as she watched all the eligible women and princesses in the kingdom approached the steps of Winchester Castle.

“Odette, my darling child, this match between you and Sam is perfect. You two got along so well all these past summers. Surely you must care for him.” Odette’s father says gently. The father and daughter had a close relationship ever since Odette’s mother had passed at the time of her birth. Sure Odette had her tutors growing up, but she and her father were incredibly close. The elder monarch pulled out a black velvet box and revealed a gold chain, and at the end of the beautiful chain, hung the image of a swan carved into the gold locket. 

“Papa, it’s beautiful…” Odette gasped as her father reached around to clasp the golden chain around her neck. The gold accessory shimmered in the light of the hallway, but the symbol of a swan reminded her of her mother as it was her favorite animal.

Down the hall, Sam sighed as he straightened his dress clothes. Clearly, this was a ball set to become an engagement party as his mother had insisted on him wearing the nicest outfit he had. Dean, who was adamant of making sure his little brother wasn’t late, walked over to help him. “Seems like mom invited half the kingdom and all the most abundant amount of single princesses in this kingdom and the next one over,” Dean says chuckling, This made Sam roll his eyes at the elder sibling. 

“Maybe I don’t want to settle down yet, Dean. There’s so much of the enchanted forest I haven’t gotten to explore yet. I’ve wanted to visit Snow and Charming, but I haven’t had the time since Mom is so insistent that I get married. She didn’t force you to get married,” he added as an afterthought. Dean scoffed and shook his head. This was true, he wasn’t being forced into a marriage, and he’d thought he would be, given the fact he was the oldest of the Winchester princes. 

“You’ll have time for that and so much more, Sam, I promise. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

Sam let out a sigh, Dean was right there. In being the eldest, he always gave the best advice. Sam gave his brother a friendly smile and nodded. Dean pulled Sam in for a hug and patted him on the back. “Come on, there’s a ball, with food, drink, and women” Dean smirked, saying each word slowly and his grin grew with each word before he was out the door. 

Meanwhile, Queen Regina Mills was working on a curse of her own across the enchanted forest, but she was also in contact with the witch that presided over the Winchester Kingdom. Rowena Macleod. Before Sam and Dean were born, Rowena had a decent relationship with King John and Queen Mary, but she was banished immediately when the boys were about a year old when she was discovered working with dark magic. Rowena and Regina had been friends when they were younger. 

Rowena snuck inside the palace walls, her dark emerald cloak kept her hidden in the shadows, smirking as she spotted the royal family as well as Princess Odette. Rowena had spies hidden within the palace who would provide her with intel regarding the goings-on at the palace. t wasn’t that hard to figure out the fact that Prince Samuel had a soft spot for Princess Odette Y/L/N. 

The growing crowd made it easier to allow Rowena to lurk throughout the party with ease, the entire ballroom filled with gasps and murmurs as Odette made her way into the room. Rowena cleared her throat as she tried to gather Sam’s attention, bowing into a low curtsy, she smiled and stood looking at him, rumor around the palace is that you and Princess Odette are to be engaged, what with you being childhood friends and all,” 

Sam nodded hearing Rowena, but he wasn’t truly listening to her. Catching Y/C/H out of the corner of his eye, the prince turned to see her come down the stairs and just looked in awe. How did the annoying child he and Dean had grown up with become someone so beautiful…Sam moved to push past Rowena, moving to stand in front of Odette, smiling as they were standing in the middle of the room, giving her a low bow. In-kind, Odette curtsy’s back. 

Without a second thought, Sam was inching towards her and his hand rested on the back of her neck before pressing his lips to hers gently, which to the parents of the pair, made them elated, a loud cry filled the room from King John. 

“Arrange the marriage between Prince Samuel and Princess Odette.”

As the words echoed in her ear, Odette pulled back and looked in shock. “What? I-I don’t understand…” 

Sam pulled Odette over to a corner so they were alone somewhat. “I don’t understand what the problem is.” “Why do you want to marry me? Because we’re told do, or are you willing to marry me of your own choice.” “Well, you are really beautiful…” Sam says trailing a bit. “What else?” 

This made Sam blink a bit. After a moment of hesitation, Odette scoffed and gently pushed past him to leave. “Papa, I’d like to go home.”

Rowena stepped out into the crowd and her red hair was vibrant against the castle light. Her voice was low and she was laughing while the words left her mouth. Eyes gazed upon Odette and her elder father.

 “adhair, uisge, teine, talamh gabh an nighean seo agus thoir dhomh mo mhallachd. Air an latha eala air an oidhche na bana-phrionnsa, cha bhi i gu bràth leis an fheadhainn air a bheil gaol aice, gus an tèid fìor ghaol aideachadh aideachadh le fuil.”  

Which translated to; ‘air, water, fire, earth take this girl and give her my curse. By  day a swan  by night a princess, never shall she be with the ones she loves, until true loves confession be spoken with blood.’

Odette’s father moved to pull his daughter behind him after the curse was spoken. John was shouting for his guard to seize Rowena and make sure she was exiled like she should have been. The entire ballroom left the palace in a rush, Odette and her father being pushed along in the crowd. Climbing into their carriage, they rushed towards their kingdom and, hopefully, safety.

The following morning, Sam and Dean were in the library, trying to remember the words to Rowena’s spell the evening before. Rowena being the cunning witch she was, was able to escape and cause an ambush on Odette and her father’s carriage, taking Odette with her where Sam would not be able to find her, leaving the golden necklace in the road. “Sam, you, for the record, are an idiot,” Dean says to his younger brother, who simply glared at him. “‘ Is beauty all that matters,” he says trying to mimic Odette’s tone and rolled his eyes, “and you simply respond with, “What else is there?!’”

“Thank you, Dean, for reminding me for the second time this morning and last night,” Sam snapped, looking up as the head of the guard burst through the library wounded just as Sam was on the page where the spell would be translated. “Hey, Hey, you're alright? What happened?”

“Princess Odette’s carriage was attacked on the road, her father is dead…”

“What?!” Dean gasped. In the guard's hand was Odette’s necklace. Both brothers looked up as a storm was seeming to come in out of nowhere. “What the hell is that?” Sam says. “A wall of purple smoke?”

“That would be Queen Regina’s doing,” Rowena smirked as she stood in the library. See you boys soon, though, you probably won’t remember me anyway.” She chuckled as the smoke enveloped the palace.

Tags:

 @simsadventures @mummybear @impala-dreamer @holylulusworld @snffbeebee @saxxxology @akshi8278 @deansmyapplepie   @luci-in-trenchcoats @samskia-writes @winchester-fantasies @talesmaniac89 @stusbunker @idreamofplaid @cherrypiebbyblog @cleighwrites @jxackles @flamencodiva @wonder-cole @msmarvelouswinchester @downanddirtydean @janicho88 @lacednleathered

[recollins]

Doctor’s Doctor (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request: Could you do a Reid x reader where he has a secret significant other who is a surgeon or doctor? Pairing: Spencer x Neutral Reader Length: 4,568 Contains: Fluff, angst if you squint Warnings: None A/N: I have exactly no knowledge of medical procedures or the actual inner workings of a hospital. All of my knowledge for this was based off of my Scrubs obsession from like 2005 and harassing my CNA sister. Do not hold me to accuracy on any of it. Masterlist

--

Spencer was a notorious worrier. There was no denying that, no matter how much he tried to do so. From the amount of germs gathered during his commute to and from work, to the reliability of your alarm system that had gone out on more than one occasion, he always had something nagging at the back of his conscience.

After almost six months with your boyfriend, you’d grown used to his constant concerns. Overall, they didn’t bother you, despite his predictable worry that it did. Honestly, you found it endearing. You’d never really had anyone take an interest on your wellbeing the way he did, and it was just another reason to love him.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, you knew it stemmed from what he saw on the cases he faced. He’d tell you about the better cases, the ones they’d closed with minimal loss or the ones that hadn’t ended as badly as it could’ve, but he never spoke about the ones that didn’t have a reasonably decent ending. The ones that put the heavy, unyielding sadness on his shoulders that took his smile for days. The ones that woke him screaming in the middle of the night, leaving his bright golden eyes dull and haunted until you finally managed to lull him back to sleep.

He wouldn’t speak of them, but you could put the pieces together with the measures he started to implement into your life. When you’d first started dating, your own safety wasn’t something you ever really took into consideration, most evident by your old garage door.

Your house was pretty old – which is how you’d gotten such a good deal on it – and as you weren’t much of a do-it-yourself kind of person, you’d never put much effort into updating or remodeling the more outdated parts of your home. Most notably, your garage door was still the original one installed in the late 60’s. It was so old it wasn’t even automated; heck, it didn’t even actually lock. Since you had to manually open and close it, if you were in a hurry you’d just leave it open when you went to work.

Spencer nearly had a heart attack when he’d first found out.

He’d then hired a company to install a brand new door – complete with securing locks and an entry keypad – and spent an entire weekend testing and re-testing, ensuring you were safe. Ensuring you wouldn’t meet the same fate you guessed others had met on his last case.

“Double-check that it shuts all the way, and doesn’t go back up before you leave,” he’d told you numerous times, demonstrating exactly how to do it over and over again.  “Always watch when it shuts to make sure no one slips inside.”

Two months ago he’d replaced the GPS in your car, explaining the model you’d had was susceptible to being hacked. That one you hadn’t fully understood – so what if someone hacked it? All they’d get are some addresses you’d gone to.

“What are they going to do with that, Spence? Figure out I spend way too much time at Target?”

You’d asked it to joke with him, trying to get a smile on his face for the first time that day. Though he tried to turn away before it showed, you caught the ache of regret in his gaze before he dropped it to the ground.

“Yes,” was all he had managed to force out, but it was all you needed to hear to understand why he was so worried. Since then, you didn’t question him. Though he couldn’t take back what had happened to the victims his team couldn’t save, he could keep it from happening to you. Worrying over your safety helped alleviate some of the guilt and sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside him, you knew that much.

If it eased Spencer’s mind, it was worth the constant concern he showered you with. That’s what you repeated to yourself as, for the third time that week, you set off your own alarm trying to get into your house at just a little past two in the morning.

Cursing under your breath, you finally got the damn door open and rushed to the keypad on the wall, punching in the code Spencer had set up for you. Unsurprisingly, you got it wrong. He’d picked a completely random string of numbers, reminding you how easy it was to guess someone’s password or code because they made it personal.  

There was only about fifteen seconds left before the system would alert the company, and that was the last thing you needed right now. Dropping everything in your arms to the floor, you jammed in the next six numbers you thought it was .

ERROR – WRONG CODE

“For the absolute love of fuck,” you snarled, going for another attempt. Your phone was ringing before you’d even hit the third number. With a tired sigh you propped the phone on your ear and muttered out a weary, “hello again.”

“Hi, this is Macy from ADT. We see your alarm was triggered and we were calling to ensure you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you assured, still jamming numbers. Your phone beeped, and a quick glance confirmed Spencer was trying to reach you. “My boyfriend set up my passcode so well that even I can’t crack it.”

Macy chuckled on the other end and quickly ran through the security questions (that thankfully you’d set up) and in a few minutes the alarm silenced. Spencer had already attempted calling another two times, and if you didn’t hurry he’d show up there himself. Not that you didn’t want to see him, but you both were in desperate need of sleep with how hectic your work had been lately.

“Would you like to change your passcode?” Macy offered, and though it was tempting, you knew Spencer would be upset.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks so much,” you rushed, as Spencer called for the fifth time. You quickly accepted the call and said instantly, “I’m fine, Spence. I’m perfectly fine.”

On the other end of the phone you heard him give a sigh of relief, and you smiled just a bit. His care always touched you and settled the irritation. You’d never been in a relationship with someone who cared about you as much as you did them, and despite the annoyance you really did love how much he cared.

“I’m sorry,” he told you instantly, his voice sounding rough with sleep. “I know this happens a lot –“

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” you promised, scooping up your discarded things from the floor and shuffling yourself into the kitchen, dumping them all onto the counter now. “I’m sorry I woke you up again.”

It was a real pain, having the company call your emergency contact every time this happened. But, just like all the other occasions, Spencer assured immediately, “don’t be. I’d rather be woken by a false alarm than by hearing you were hurt.”

The smile toying on your face couldn’t be helped, and you both sat in warm silence for a few moments. As much as you’d like to talk with your boyfriend – especially after the chaotic night at the hospital you’d just had – you knew how exhausted he had to be.

“You should be sleeping,” you murmured after a few more moments. When he didn’t respond at first, you thought he’d actually fallen asleep. And then, in the background, you heard the sound of someone crying. “Spencer?”

“It’s – that’s Henry,” he mumbled as you heard him get up. You could just picture him rubbing at his eyes as he yawned and explained, “Will and JJ wanted some time alone so I took him for the night. I… think he might be getting sick.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned back against the counter. Sure, you weren’t a profiler, but you knew your boyfriend, and you knew that tone of voice. That was his ‘knee-deep in the pit of worry’ voice. The only person he was more protective of than you was his godson.

“You were already awake when ADT called, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer immediately and that confirmed your suspicion. You let out a heavy sigh as you chastised, “Spencer. You just got back from a case and you’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours –”

“He had a fever when I put him to bed,” he defended as you heard him open the door.

“It’s common for children’s temperatures to rise a bit at night,” you reminded him. “And kids his age are prone to colds, which is nothing some sleep can’t help.”

“It wasn’t there this afternoon, though,” he persisted; you could hear the beep of the thermometer, and instead of arguing with him (which you’d learned was a fruitless edeaver not even an hour into your first date) you stayed quiet until you heard it beep again.

“What’s his temp?” you prompted; there was no reply. “Spencer.”

“99.9,” he mumbled. “But that’s higher than it was an hour ago –“

“Does he have any other symptoms?” Again, there was silence. If you could’ve reached through the phone to smack him you would’ve. “Spencer –“

“He didn’t eat as much at dinner,” he finally replied, and you heard him put a hand over the phone as he asked softly, “Henry, does anything hurt?”

There was a tearfully mumbled no and you stifled a sigh, dropping your head back to stare at the ceiling. This man was gonna worry himself to death before he even reached forty. “Okay, Spence. Give him some Tylenol and get him to drink some water. If there are no other symptoms present, he probably just has a cold. It could even be allergies, and he’s just uncomfortable.”

He was quiet at first; you heard him walking down the hall, and then the snap of a light. A moment later he was rifling through what you assumed to be a medicine cabinet as he finally said meekly, “I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting –“

“Hey. It’s fine. You’re just concerned,” you reminded him gently. “But between the almost back-to-back cases you’ve been working and now me setting off my alarm every other night, you’re wearing yourself out.”

Spencer was quiet again, and you knew him well enough to know he was trying to think of a way to refute what you’d just said. Thankfully though, whether it was the exhaustion or a hint of rationality surfacing, he finally gave a sigh and just mumbled, “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you teased, playful smile taking over. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Finally, you got a laugh out of your boyfriend. He chuckled into the phone, and you easily pictured the bright, toothy grin he was flashing as he huffed, “I know you heard me.”

“Huh, did I? You’ll have to remind me what I heard…”

“I’m not repeating it,” he giggled. You heard Henry’s door opening again and he said a little softer, “I’ve kept you up long enough. I’ll get Henry to sleep and I’ll lay down. I promise.”

“Good. I want you to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep, alright? Doctor’s orders.”

Spencer gave another soft chuckle as he assured, “I’ll give it my best shot, given Henry stays asleep.”

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go shower and lay down,” you told him, making the executive decision to leave all your crap on the kitchen counter until after you’d slept. “I’ll text you when I’m up. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer murmured, the smile clear in his voice. It was still a relatively new thing to say, and you both got a little giddy every time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“’Night, Spence.”

Smiling to yourself as you finally hung up, you checked the time and groaned. It was just a few minutes shy of 3am now, and you had to be up in four hours for your next shift. The hospital was ridiculously understaffed; you’d been working overtime just to make sure there was coverage.

Honestly, it was a miracle you’d even gotten to leave tonight. You were pretty sure that if one of the nurses had caught you before you reached the door, you’d still be at work. As much as you wanted to pass out right away, you forced yourself to shower. Finally, ten minutes later you were collapsing into your bed, falling asleep almost the second your head hit the pillow.

Your phone was ringing what felt like only minutes later. Groaning, terrified it was the hospital calling you back in already, you blindly pulled your phone off the charger and dropped it onto the mattress, laying your head on top of it, too tired to hold it up.

“This is Dr. Y/L/N –“

“Y/N,” Spencer’s panicked voice interrupted. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but Henry’s gotten worse.”

It took every shred of self-restraint to hold back the groan of pure frustration. Wearily, you peeled an eye open and peeked at the clock on your nightstand. 3:58am stared back at you. “Spencer it hasn’t even been an hour –“

“He threw up twice, and he says his stomach really hurts,” he rushed, his voice pinched and at least two octaves higher than normal. “His fever’s at 100.8, it’s going up quickly –“

“Hey, okay, okay,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t doze off, the symptoms starting to float around in your groggy head. Escalating fever, nausea, vomiting, stomach pain… those weren’t a good combination. “Alright. Spence, take a breath.”

“Y/N, I’m worried about –“

“I know. But I need you to calm yourself down,” you insisted. Spencer huffed at you – and you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness – but you heard him take in a deep breath and blow it out. “Alright. One more.”

He did as he was told, and when he started speaking again his voice was at least a little less panicked. “I – should I take him to the ER? He’s gotten a lot worse and he’s crying, but I don’t want to worry Will and JJ if I’m just overreacting –“

This time, you were worried he wasn’t, and it’d be quicker to diagnose him instead of having them hole up in the ER. You were already slipping on your sneakers and tugging a sweater out of your closet to throw on over your pajama top. The sweats you had would have to do; you didn’t have the energy to put real pants on.

“Text me their address,” you cut in as you jogged down the steps, swinging through the kitchen to snag your pile of necessities from the counter. At least the laziness paid off; you didn’t have to go hunting for your crap.

You heard the ping of a text as you got into the car, and Spencer’s voice was back a moment later. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry. I know you’re so tired –“

“Spence, really. It’s okay,” you said gently, glancing at the address and typing it in. “My GPS says I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

“Drive safe,” he told you instantly, and then before hanging up he reminded you, “be sure your garage door shuts all the way.”

The little bit of irritation that had risen up was put out instantly, smile tugging your lips up as you watched the door shut all the way. Despite the exhaustion, you knew this was how Spencer expressed his love. Making sure he and Henry were alright was the least you could do to show him you loved him just as much.

--

Spencer had the door open before you even finished knocking, pulling you into a hug you both really needed. He clung to you, face burying into your neck for several moments before he mumbled,

“I really am sorry, Y/N. You’re so tired and if this is nothing –“

You pulled back and wordlessly cupped his face, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He relaxed under your touch almost instantly, his hand flitting up to wrap around your wrists, keeping your hold on him.

You broke from the kiss just enough to murmur, “Spencer, I don’t know how else to say it, but I’m being completely honest when I say it’s okay. You’re not overreacting. Henry’s worsened and it’s a legitimate cause for concern. You have every right to worry.”

Spencer nodded, his nose brushing yours, thankfully not picking up on the undertones of genuine concern in your voice. You didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily, but you’d seen these symptoms so frequently you were almost certain this was well-deserving of his panic.

You didn’t pull out of Spencer’s hold; you never did. It was an unspoken rule that it was never you that cut off contact. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, but when he was, you never wanted to be the one to push him away or shut him down when he needed you. When he finally did release your wrists to step back, you swept your thumbs over his cheekbones, comforting him before motioning for him to lead the way.

Henry was curled up on the corner of a dark blue couch, clinging to a stuffed Spider-Man toy as he whimpered into the cushion. Kneeling in front of him, you gave a warm smile as you reached out and swept his hair back, feeling his forehead.

Way too warm, you noted; before you could even ask, Spencer was holding out the thermometer. He sat beside Henry at his legs, and despite the pain he was clearly in, Henry instantly shuffled himself around to lay his head on Spencer’s lap, one of his hands coming to tangle into his pajama pants.

Your entire heart melted instantly, seeing the two of them together. You’d never seen Spencer with kids, but it had instantly become one of the top five most beautiful views in the world.

“This is my friend, Dr. Y/N,” he introduced, his large hand settling on Henry’s side, rubbing soothingly. “We need to take your temperature again, okay?”

Henry sniffled and nodded, opening his mouth. As you started the thermometer, you shifted a little closer and said, “Hi Henry. I hear your tummy hurts.”

He gave a small nod, and when the thermometer beeped he reached up and held it out to you as he whimpered, “it hurts real bad.”

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” you apologized as you took a quick look at his temperature. 101.2. That wasn’t good. “Henry, can I take a look at your tummy really quick?”

With another small nod, you and Spencer helped him roll onto his back. Even just that small movement had more tears flowing, his little face screwed up as he turned and buried it against Spencer’s thigh.

There was no doubt in your mind now, but just to be thorough, you pressed lightly against the right side of his stomach. He let out a yelp of pain, and that was all you needed. Spencer caught the look on your face as you got to your feet.

“Spence, can you set up Henry’s car seat in my car?” you asked, keeping your voice calm so you didn’t panic the tearful little boy staring up at you with wide, worried eyes. Picking up on your demeanor, Spencer said gently,

“Of course. Henry, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay Uncle Spencer,” he mumbled, allowing himself to be settled back on the couch. The moment he grabbed the car seat, Spencer all but sprinted outside. You tugged out your phone, moving to stand in the hall while keeping an eye on Henry as you dialed the nurse on call.

“Hey, Ashley, it’s Dr. Y/L/N. I know I’m not scheduled until seven, but there’s an emergency and I’ll be bringing in a patient,” you explained hastily. With the hospital so understaffed, even with priority it might take a while for Henry to be taken care of. You’d be his surgeon today.

“Is everything alright?” she asked hastily; you heard her already assembling the paperwork you needed.

“I’ll need an operating room and a team ready to perform an appendectomy.”

--

The sun was just coming through the window of the post-op room, illuminating Henry’s sleeping figure in a soft orange glow. You’d stopped in on your way to the waiting room, just to make sure he was okay.

Ashley held his chart out to you and you gave her a smile of thanks as she said, “I know it’s usually me talking to the family, but since this is personal I figured you’d want to do it. I’ll stay here with him for now, he should be up pretty soon.”

“You’re the best,” you said, giving her arm a thankful squeeze before you made your way to find Spencer and a couple of very concerned parents.

This wasn’t how you and Spencer had planned to introduce you to his team; he’d wanted you to come to one of their dinner parties in a few weeks to meet everyone at once. Though it was sudden and unexpected, you’d be lying to say you weren’t eager to meet JJ and Will. She was his best friend and after all you’d heard about both of them you were more than ready to make introductions.

The first waiting room only held a sleeping couple and a frantic woman pacing around the chairs. As you got closer to the second room, though, several different voices could be heard. When you stepped into the room, though, you hadn’t been prepared to see every member of Spencer’s team gathered inside.

He’d shown you dozens of pictures, and it wasn’t hard to match the faces to names. Penelope had to be the extremely colorful woman in a seat against the far wall, leaning on a painfully attractive man you instantly recognized as Morgan. Two older gentleman – Hotch on the left and Rossi on the right – were standing aside, talking casually with one another, their eyes on the panicked couple across from them.

Will and JJ were on the edge of their seats, hands clasped together as they talked quietly with a women who was unmistakably Emily. She was the first to spot you, brows raising in question. You cleared your throat and asked,

“Henry LaMontagne?”

All seven heads snapped to you instantly, catching you off-guard. You met each stare briefly before an eighth head popped out from behind Hotch and Rossi. Spencer looked exhausted, but his soft brown eyes lit up seeing you.

“Y/N, how is he?” he asked, hurrying out of his chair and coming around to you. JJ and Will got up as well, and though they were focused on you, you didn’t miss the way the rest of the team was looking between you and your boyfriend.

“He’s just fine,” you assured, and everyone visibly relaxed. “Thanks to Spencer, we got him here before his appendix burst and the surgery went through without a hitch. We’ll have to keep him overnight – it’s just normal procedure after an emergency surgery – but he’ll be good to go home tomorrow morning.”

Spencer moved unexpectedly, his arms instantly encircling you and pulling you into a tight hug. For a quiet, blissful moment the chaos of the morning came to a halt. Instead of panic and exhaustion and worry, it was just the two of you, caught up in your own world, both relaxing into one another after the last few grueling hours.

“Thank you so much for all you did,” he murmured against your neck, pressing a swift kiss against it as he reluctantly pulled back, smiling up at you with nothing short of love in his eyes. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

You went to answer when a throat cleared from behind Spencer. Your boyfriend’s eyes slowly widened in realization, as if he’d just remembered the other people around you two. When he turned and stepped aside, you saw the rest of his team watching you both with grins.

Spencer’s ears and cheeks were flushed a dark pink, and you knew your own face wasn’t any different. Morgan was the first to move, stepping up and clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder as he looked between the two of you.

“Well, well, well. Look’s like the doctor’s got himself a doctor.”

Spencer, bless his adorable heart, was still at a loss for words. Whether it was the lack of sleep, the adrenaline of the last few hours finally wearing off, or the buzz of what you guessed was probably way too much caffeine (because you knew he’d been abusing the free coffee down the hall), you really couldn’t say. All he managed was a quick nod, and then a feeble attempt of,

“This – um, Y/N is my doctor – no, wait. So, we’ve been dating, um –“

With a laugh, you reached out and squeezed Spencer’s hand and then held your other out to Morgan. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.” After a brief moment of deliberation, you grinned and added, “I’m the doctor’s doctor.”

The others laughed as you shook their hands briefly before turning to Will and JJ.

“I’m sure Henry’s awake by now. If you’d like, we can go check on him and I’ll have my nurse bring your entourage to meet us in his room.”

“That’d be fantastic,” JJ sighed, looping you into a hug of your own as Will rubbed her back soothingly, smiling in thanks at you. “Really, we’re so glad you dropped everything to help Henry.”

Giving her a hug of reassurance, you motioned for her and Will to start down the hall. Before you got more than a step and a half, Spencer’s hand had caught your own. When you turned to him, you were surprised to see the characteristic frown of worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quickly, looking between his soft hazel eyes, concern of your own starting to spark.

“I just – is this okay? This was all so sudden, you just got thrown into the middle of everything, I didn’t give you any warning to meet everyone and –“

“And you know what?” you cut in gently, and he tipped his head a hint in question. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“Really?” he asked softly, a small smile peeking through his frown. “I just… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or… or scare you off.”

“You don’t need to worry, Spence. Really.” He raised his brows and gave a pointed glance around us, and I let out a laugh. “Okay, okay. Garage doors and sick kids are one thing, but me leaving you? Never. You’re sort of stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, and to your surprise, he leaned down and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your lips before stepping back. “For the record, though, I now have proof that I don’t always worry too much.”

Well, shit. He had a point. Rolling your eyes, you made down the hall after JJ and Will, shaking your head at Spencer as he started down the hall for the coffee machine. Alright, if his constant anxieties didn’t send him to an early grave, the ungodly amount of caffeine he consumed certainly would.

You’d save that to worry about for another day.  

[polaristranslations]

Yotsugi Buddy Episode 2

The long-awaited summer break has begun! Yay!

Now, what kind of fun should I have with everybody?

...Of course it wouldn't end up being like that. It wouldn't end with that sort of development, and it certainly wouldn't feel like it—as if I would let it. It was just a troublesome matter. "How did things turn out like this?" was practically my favorite phrase at this point, but I particularly thought so for this particular matter. I was sure I didn't make any mistakes up to this point—or perhaps, should I have not responded to the summons from the professor at all?

As if I could have known that that professor would disappear right after talking to me... How was I supposed to know that I would be the last person to see her? I hadn't had a bad feeling about it at all. Perhaps I hadn't introduced myself yet, but I was a former vampire, not a prophet. I couldn't, and didn't want to, say anything that would make it seem as if I'd seen into the future, like some middle-aged guy in a Hawaiian shirt who was off wandering about somewhere.

A university professor went missing right after exams. Naturally, the campus would be in an uproar, and it would be a big deal... As a matter of course, various places also came to ask me about the situation. Well, I pulled through it decently enough... A decent amount of deception was basically my specialty, and I wasn't so inconsiderate as to tell others about the state of the nursery in Room 333 without the owner's permission. First of all, how was I supposed to tell someone about something I didn't even understand?

It seemed the exams were graded by one of the office aides or the professor, so my exam paper was safely returned to me—apparently, the disappearance of one person was not enough to hold up the academic institutions of the present. In other words, there was no job that could only be done by one person in particular. Incidentally, I received a grade of C and the corresponding number of credits. Although that was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

If I wanted to interpret this situation realistically, without bringing in any oddity phenomena like spiriting away or the "replacement child", then... Associate Professor Iesumi, who sent me to check on her house, belatedly regretted her actions, which could only have been an expression of unsound mind... The most likely explanation would be that she feared that the abuse of "her own child" would become public and cause a fuss, and she thus made the decision to "flee".

It wasn't a crime to abuse a handmade doll, and it wasn't a crime to stab that doll in the back—so, even if I were to find out and spread that information out to the world, there was no need to run away out of desperation, but that was just in legal terms. And, as Ononoki-chan said, it was unclear to what extent Associate Professor Iesumi was self-aware.

Her symptoms and awareness could have varied depending on the day, as well—so perhaps I shouldn't be trying to force some sort of consistency, when both the request and the escape felt illogical.

This wasn't a mystery novel. Nor was it a game to find the culprit.

There were some absurd conspiracy theories being whispered around at the university that the professor had been abducted by a special agency because of her top-secret research that had been commissioned by the state, but if I had to guess normally, I would say that Associate Professor Iesumi had simply left all her memories behind and returned to her birthplace of Switzerland... She'd said that she'd come to Japan to escape from her parents, with whom she'd had a bad relationship, but even if she went back, there must be a way to avoid meeting them.

I could even force myself to imagine a happy ending where they let go of their differences and mended their relationship.

The power of one's imagination was limitless, for better or worse.

Especially for worse—even though there was no need for me to do so, when I imagined Associate Professor Iesumi running from one place to another, it wasn't exactly relieving for me... No, in the end, no matter how I interpreted it, when I thought that I could be the direct cause of her disappearance, well... It left me depressed.

It left me empty inside.

In theory, I knew. If I, a "specialist of child abuse", had refused her request, Associate Professor Iesumi would have simply reached out to another student who would have listened to her, and the situation would have converged towards something similar...In the end, everything, including her abusive behavior towards her "three-year-old daughter", was really just her one-woman show.

From beginning to end, the control of the story had been firmly within her grasp.

But that was just in theory. My emotions were different.

So, instead of a glorious start, my first summer break in college got off to a rather unpleasant start... I wouldn't go so far as to say that it was hellish, but the trip to Hokkaido with Hitagi, which I'd made plans to make plans for, had to be postponed once again.

We'd met briefly to discuss it, but as expected, she was very astute and didn't fail to miss my lack of excitement.

Well, in the first place... The promise was that we'd go in winter, when it was crab season.

With that, if I had been left alone, I could have spent the entire summer brooding over Associate Professor Iesumi, but my socializing ability had become better than it was before, so it was hard for me to be left alone.

How wonderful.

So, that morning, I received a message on my cell phone.

It was from a high school girl and my friend, Higasa-chan.

"Araragi☆senpai☆we☆are☆having☆a☆girlsbas☆senpai☆kouhai☆social☆at☆the☆Naoetsu☆High☆gym☆from☆one☆pm☆today☆and☆you'll☆be☆extremely☆popular☆if☆you☆came☆as☆a☆guest☆!☆First☆let's☆meet☆up☆at☆Ruga's☆house☆!☆GO☆GO☆right☆now☆!☆☆☆☆"

It was hard to read.

With her name meaning a rain of stars, perhaps she was trying to make a meteor shower occur in her messages, but in the first place, wasn't this pretty hard to type out?

I tried deciphering it... Hmm... A senpai-kouhai social...? It seemed that, within the span of a few months, the Naoetsu High girls' basketball team, which had been on the brink of collapse, had finally gotten back on its feet enough to do something like that.

Since I'd helped to the best of my limited ability, it was great news to hear, and I would be happy to visit my alma mater if my attendance at the meeting would bring the club any closer to what it was in its heyday.

No, I wasn't expecting anything about popularity, and to be honest, I didn't want to take one step inside my alma mater again...

But I guess it could be a change of pace.

It wasn't because I'd screwed up on a mission, but I still wanted to feel like I was being useful to someone—oh yeah, speaking of deciphering.

I wonder how that "thing" I gave to Meniko was going? I hadn't heard anything from her since then... Since it was her, it was possible she forgot about it.

Well, it didn't hurt to give it a shot.

If it didn't work out, then that was fine. I would almost prefer if it didn't work out.

The first thing to do was to meet at Kanbaru's house (did she even get approval for this? Higasa-chan did have the habit of using a friend's house without permission), so I got changed and went downstairs in order to leave the house.

And, at the entrance, I ran into Tsukihi.

My sister in a kimono, Araragi Tsukihi... My smaller little sister changed her hairstyle from time to time, and her current hairstyle such that all her hair, including her bangs, was tied up in one big ponytail.

Her forehead was cute, to the point that it made me irritated.

"My, my, if it isn't onii-chan. Just the right time. Have you seen my precious stuffed doll?"

"Stuffed doll—"

Ononoki-chan, huh.

That tween girl must have gotten fed up with being used as a dress-up doll again and evacuated from my sisters' room... If so, she might be rolling around in the back seat of my New Beetle again, but I didn't care how much Tsukihi was my beloved sister—I couldn't let her know that.

I'd caused a lot of trouble for Ononoki-chan, so I wanted to at least protect her from the clutches of my little sister... In the end, I didn't talk to her at all about the incident with Associate Professor Iesumi, but being a doll herself, Ononoki-chan may have had her own thoughts when she saw the doll stabbed in the back.

Well, it was just that we didn't discuss the case of Associate Professor Iesumi. We talked as usual about TV dramas or the new Häagen-Dazs ice cream, so there was a strong possibility that Ononoki-chan decided to leave the case as "settled".

At any rate, there was only one answer I could give.

"Sorry, I have no clue. I don't know everything, I just know what I know."

"Whose line was that, again? I feel like I've heard it before."

Even though you adored Hanekawa so much last summer, you've already forgotten about her... I was a little jealous of her refreshingly forgetful nature.

I wished I could split my low spirits with her.

"Oh, whatever. Forget that stuffed doll. It's about time to buy a new one, anyway."

"That's a little too refreshing!"

"So, onii-chan. Where are you headed, all dressed up like that?"

"Oh? This area’s famous fashion advisor, Tsukihi-chan, thinks that I'm dressed up?"

"Yep. It looks like you've dressed up to get high school girls to fawn over you."

How shrewd.

I'll take it as a compliment.

"I'm going to meet Higasa-chan."

"Ah. Her. Hasn't she been coming over, like, three times a week?"

It seemed they'd become acquainted.

Well, she was coming over three times a week.

"Incidentally, about her given name, you write it as 'rain of stars' [星雨], right? But how are you supposed to read it? Seiu? Hoshiame?"

"Either way is fine, she says. It's the same as how Abe no Seimei can also be read as Abe no Haruaki."

"Is, is that allowed...?"

"And where are you headed out to? That kimono is for outdoors, right? Patrolling with Karen-chan?"

"It's been a while since the Fire Sisters broke up, onii-chan. For me, that's just one of my past hits. Karen-chan's gone hiking with her high school friends, and I'm going hiking with my middle school friends."

Hiking?

Is that a trend with middle schoolers right now?

It was hard to catch up with the trends of youngsters these days.

In Karen-chan's case, I could bet that it was some severe mountain climbing again... But Tsukihi shouldn't have been the outdoors type?

"Right. Y'see, I heard a rumor that there was a dead body buried deep in the mountains of a neighboring town, so we all decided to go check it out. Like, pretending it's Stephen King's The Body."

"...The Body?"

"Yeah. I'm a fan of the original work."

How pretentious.

Well, maybe it was a little healthier than the Fire Sisters pretending to be heroes of justice... As an older brother who had just had an adventure that could have led to the discovery of not a dead body deep in the mountains, but the body of an abused child, it was somewhat difficult to rebuke her.

In my case, even my companion had been a corpse... But, seeing as how Tsukihi was also looking for Ononoki-chan, she might have been planning to go hiking with that stuffed doll in hand.

Perhaps that could also be her shrewdness.

It was like equipping yourself with jewelry to go on a treasure hunt.

In any case, after becoming a college student, I shouldn't meddle too much with my little sister's behavior... Being swept up in such inappropriate gossip was also a part of youth.

It was also a good thing that the two sisters, who had a very close relationship, were now taking a healthy distance from each other after being separated by middle school and high school.

"But if you actually find a corpse, then make sure you call the police, okay?"

"Of course. Who do you think I am?"

"Tsukihi-chan, of course."

Hm.

But with all three kids going out on their own, the Araragi household was at peace—at the very least, none of them were locked in cages.

"Tsukihi-chan. We're truly blessed, you know."

"Hmm? What are you saying, all of a sudden?"

"I mean, we didn't have to worry about what to wear, what to eat, or where to sleep. Maybe I should be more grateful to our parents."

"What's the matter? What happened to that onii-chan that would run off somewhere every Mother's Day?"

"I didn't run off anywhere this year! As promised."

"You weren't here for Father's Day. Neither hide nor hair."

"I didn't promise anything for Father's Day."

I haven't exactly become upfront about my feelings regarding my father yet.

Well, putting Mother's Day and Father's Day on the same day was something I'd already discussed with Ononoki-chan, so I wasn't going to repeat myself here.

"Well, there was a bunch of stuff like you jumping off rooftops and being kidnapped by a group of delinquents."

"There was, wasn't there."

"But I'm really thankful that our house is at peace."

I'd experienced things like a hell of a spring break and a nightmare of a Golden Week, but basically, all of those had happened outside my home.

It wasn't like my home became hell or my family became a nightmare... No matter how bad the parent-child or sibling relationship got, I never felt like my life was in danger.

I'd always had a seat at our dinner table.

The filial piety that Senjougahara Hitagi was forced to show her mother; the fact that Hanekawa Tsubasa slept and woke up in the hallway; those were things I still couldn't digest very well... No matter how close we cuddled, no matter how harshly I was yelled at, I would never truly be able to understand their suffering.

Even when I was confronted with an incident that put me close to death, it was still just a temporary accident—a limited-duration tragedy, so to speak.

It wasn't anything like an unforeseeable eternity where I wouldn't be protected by a guardian.

"That's true. If there were problems at home, then Karen-chan and I wouldn't have had to go out to look for evil, would we? The only problem that the Araragi family has is that the older brother looks at his younger sisters in a sexual way."

"That's too big of a problem. And I don't do that. I look at you with contempt."

"I should be grateful. Well, I'm sure parents remember the joys of parenthood, so I guess you could say it's mutual."

"That's not something you can say. You're on the children's side."

"I swear that when I'm reborn, I'll become a mother to Mom and Dad, and take good care of them!"

How complicated.

Well, when you in particular talked about rebirth, there was a fair amount of truth to that... Considering you were a cuckoo.

A shide-no-dori.

And—a phoenix.

"In that case, Tsukihi-chan. Shouldn't you be saying that when you're reborn, you want to be a daughter to Mom and Dad again?"

"For sure! I'm really glad I was born into the Araragi family! I'm so happy to be born the daughter of Mom and Dad and the sister of onii-chan and Karen-chan! I never asked to be born, though!"

"You said a little too much, there."

"If I’m going to be greedy, I'd like to be reborn as your older sister, onii-chan! I want you to be my little brother that I can pick on!"

"Again, a little too much."

I could do without being on the receiving end of your abuse.

010

I figured that I would go along with walking to my alma mater as the athletic types would, but, as a non-athletic type, I decided to drive to our first meeting place, Kanbaru's Japanese mansion (I may have wanted to show my juniors my driving skills). And to my surprise, there was no Ononoki-chan in the back seat.

So she wasn't taking refuge here...? Then, perhaps she had gone to play at Sengoku's place... She sure was active for a corpse.

Oh well, regardless, it wasn't like I could take a tween girl to a girlsbas social... So, if things proceeded according to schedule, I was supposed to meet up with two of my juniors from Naoetsu High, Kanbaru Suruga and Higasa Seiu, but...

"Well, well, it has been a while, Araragi-senpai—how have you been? It's me, Suruga-senpai's biggest fan, the second-year, Oshino Ougi."

The junior who greeted me at the huge gate of the Kanbaru residence was, astride a BMX, the high school boy version of Oshino Ougi—since the Kanbaru residence was Kanbaru Suruga's territory, it seemed he was in boy mode.

As usual, he showed up with that sort of self-introduction.

How tactful of him.

"...What about the two high school girls?"

"It seems that they were delayed in shopping for the party, so they left me to watch the house. With Suruga-senpai having so much faith in me, isn't it obvious that I was instructed to keep Araragi-senpai company?"

It was hard to believe Kanbaru would entrust Ougi-chan—er, Ougi-kun—with watching the house, but if it was obvious, then I guess nothing could be done.

It was obvious, after all.

"I also had some business to attend to with Suruga-senpai, so it was perfect timing. No need to worry, as I won't do anything like follow you to that social. How about it? While we wait for those two to return, why don't we form a duo and clean up Suruga-senpai's room?"

"Two boys shouldn't mess around in a girl's room while she's out..."

"Aah, Araragi-senpai, so you actually are conscious of Suruga-senpai as a girl? Have you been looking at my Suruga-senpai in that way?"

"......"

Boy mode Oshino Ougi was hard to deal with. No, I guess he was like this even when he was a girl? Either way, it felt pretty fresh for me, seeing as I never really had the chance to talk with other high school boys when I was in high school.

It was like, there was no need for Araragi Koyomi to stand firm against Oshino Ougi.

"Although, I'm secretly in the Higasa-senpai camp," said Ougi-kun. "So no fighting over her, okay?"

"Even though you keep going on about Suruga-senpai. That's way too secret. And fighting over her [toriaikko]..."

"Ha ha. Then, would you like to trade and make your fave a 'replacement child [torikaekko]'?"

"...Haha."

I couldn't let my guard down.

Even if "Ougi-kun" was the darkness in Kanbaru's heart, he was still the exact same as the "Ougi-chan" that was the darkness in my heart, so I should've expected him to see through me to this extent.

Since he was Oshino Meme's niece—Oshino Meme's nephew.

"No, no, I don't know anything. You're the one who knows, Araragi-senpai."

"I wish I did. I said this to Tsukihi-chan earlier, but I only know what I know."

"In that case, how would you like to complain to your devoted junior the circumstances that you know of? Just use that power dynamic to make me quietly listen without resistance."

"Do I look like the kind of senior that would perform such a power play?"

Especially since you weren't the type to listen quietly.

All you did was resist.

But, well, rather than wasting time in front of Kanbaru's house, I may as well bring up child abuse and the professor's disappearance as the topic of the conversation.

If I made the mistake of complaining to Kanbaru or Higasa-chan, it would do nothing but put a damper on the senpai-kouhai social... This wasn't the fable of "The King with Donkey Ears", but if I chattered away at Ougi-chan... er, Ougi-kun, then perhaps it could lift my spirits.

With that excuse in mind, I summed things up as concisely as possible and bared my emotions to Ougi-kun—something like this was like talking to myself to the extreme, but, well, it was a tradition of Araragi Koyomi to be loose-lipped when Oshino Ougi was his conversation partner.

"I see. A threefold locked room. That makes me really happy. These days, we don't hear much about locked-room tricks anymore, do we?"

"There's no need for you to act all innocently happy about that. There may have been locked rooms, but none of the doors had any tricks on them."

Ever since then, I'd been keeping the key to the professor's apartment in the pocket of my pants, and shrugged my shoulders with that in mind—she'd disappeared before I could return it, but that didn't mean I could throw it away, so I'd been carrying it around with me the whole time.

Maybe that was a bad thing.

"Not to mention, Ononoki-chan kicked down the second door."

"Indeed. To put it in a rather dull way, producing impossible crimes such as locked-room murders is probably not what intellectual criminals do. Although there is no occupation more intellectual than a university professor."

Said Ougi-kun with a smirk.

Even when he heard a story full of heavy words like "abuse" and "disappearance", he didn't waver a bit—regardless of his gender, he had to be like this, huh.

"So, what do you think? Ougi-kun."

"And what do you mean by what I think?"

"About the contradiction. Of the right and wrong behind the action of stabbing a cloth doll that looked like her own child, and then locking it in a cage."

"If it's a question of right or wrong, then it's most certainly wrong. And if it's a matter of the contradictory spear and shield, then I would say it's the shield."

"The shield?"

"It's self-protection. Defense. For reference, the spear would be aggression based on resentment and murderous intent."

"...Stabbing a defenseless doll in the back is self-protection?"

"Yes. A cowardly crime, to kill before you yourself are killed."

He'd said it wasn't something an intellectual criminal would do, but a cowardly crime... His criticism of Associate Professor Iesumi was pretty intense.

Was that coming from my inner psyche?

But Ougi-kun was different from Ougi-chan in that the origin of his existence was based on Kanbaru... But, in terms of what lay beneath Kanbaru's surface...

"Oh please, Araragi-senpai. I'm not criticizing Associate Professor Iesumi at all."

"Eh?"

"After all, there's no evidence—we can't assume that Associate Professor Iesumi is the one who stabbed the defenseless doll in the back."

Innocent until proven guilty—said Ougi-kun.

Of course, as a resident of a constitutional state, I was certainly aware of that rule... But, huh?

It was true that there was no evidence. Now that he mentioned it.

It wasn't as if forensics came in and checked the fingerprints on the fruit knife, and more importantly, they didn't perform any interview of the person in question... It was all something I'd just come up with on my own.

I was the one who knew—

"There was no criminal investigation performed. If I had to say it, then what was performed was simply media manipulation."

"......"

Hold on. I had to think about this properly.

It was a matter of civil rights... It wasn't the first time for Ougi-kun to jump on one of my carelessly-made comments, but if it became a hotbed for false accusations, then it needed to be examined seriously.

Right.

It was a contradiction.

I had felt very uncomfortable in the nursery because I'd felt that the act of stabbing in the back the abused doll that resembled one's child was inconsistent, but if I interpreted it in parts, the contradictory spear and shield would not clash.

As for the "truth" that she locked her "three-year-old daughter" in a cage at home, she'd confessed that in her own stammering words when she made the request to me... So when I saw the blade stuck in the doll in the cage, I didn't hesitate to accept that it was also the work of Associate Professor Iesumi.

"However, you just went and felt uncomfortable all on your own, didn't you? When people feel things like, 'This is weird,' or, 'How did this happen?' or, 'Why did things turn out like this...', it's usually because multiple people were rampantly involved from multiple directions. That's why it goes beyond your comprehensions."

Multiple people—multiple culprits.

No, that made it sound as if there was an accomplice, but in this case, if this was a complete division of labor by individual people with no communication...

A system where confidentiality is maintained by dividing the work into small segments and assigning them to large numbers of disparate people so that no one can see the big picture—a system where not only outsiders, but also the people themselves, didn't know what they were doing.

To put it simply.

I hadn't considered at all the possibility that the "culprit that had encaged" Iie-chan and the "culprit that had stabbed" Iie-chan were completely different people.

The act of abusing her, and the act of murdering her.

The pieces of the puzzle seemed to sit right next to each other, and yet they did not need to be joined together.

"......"

But... It raised some other questions.

First, if we adopted the idea that there was a child murderer in addition to a child abuser, then the question was, who and where were they?

And how did they manage to carry out the crime?—was another question. That was what good old-fashioned mysteries were about. Threefold secret rooms and impossible crimes.

Most of the logic that was based on the fact that the crime scene was Associate Professor Iesumi's home collapsed, and the killer's image, motive, and trick became inexplicable.

"Not quite."

"What do you mean, Ougi-kun?"

"That sort of typical assistant role doesn't suit you, Araragi-senpai. I don't know anything, so please use your brain cells to think about the main point. Your little grey cells, that is."

How shameless.

But I couldn't get used to relying on this kid—I'll stretch out the wings of my imagination as far as I can so that I can get to say the phrase that suits me: "It's elementary, my dear Ougi-kun."

Putting aside the motive for now. Not like I was the queen of motives. In the case of Associate Professor Iesumi, whether it was abuse or murder, "because she is my daughter" (which should be the reason to protect her) could paradoxically be connected to the motive... If there was another culprit, then there were infinite variations on why people would kill other people.

"I dunno about that. Most of the time, people kill for love, grudges, money, or war. If you include accidents, then there are only five patterns. You can count them on one hand."

It seemed that Ougi-kun took on the role of my assistant, but he was quite the nasty assistant... He was just making fun of me instead of supporting my detective role at all.

He should never take charge of the narration.

"When it comes to a reason to kill a three-year-old, perhaps we should include perverted sexual desire as a motive. Not to mention, it would be a doll."

What the heck.

Anyway, putting the motive aside... What about the locked-room trick?

The bolt lock on the cage wasn't a problem. It didn't even require lockpicking. However, the only one who could unlock the nursery door, as well as the front door, was the homeowner, Associate Professor Iesumi, herself—

"I wonder about that. After all, the first door was unlocked by you, Araragi-senpai, and the second door was magnificently broken through by Ononoki-chan, correct?"

With superficial politeness, my assistant's verbal jabs did not stop—but see, I could respond to that. After all, the second door was broken through, as if knocked down with a battering ram.

Rather than magnificent, it was destruction I would rather not look at.

Even I could only open the first door because the homeowner had entrusted me with the key, and without it, it would have been impossible to get into that locked room—or did the culprit have a spare key?

Perhaps they temporarily borrowed the house key from the professor's key ring... Or they stole the master key from the apartment's management...

"Huh? What if... they didn't have to go that far?"

What if it wasn't a spare key?

If it wasn't—then the locked-room nature of the second door, and the problem of the motive that I had set aside... Frighteningly enough, they could all be solved in one fell swoop.

"Wh, wh-wh, what do you m-m-m-mean? Th, th-th, that they didn't, didn't, didn't, have to go that f, f-f-f-far."

"Don't start pretending to be an assistant now."

That assistant was trembling way too much. He's so out of his mind he's acting like a DJ.

Why couldn't you do things properly?

No, the one who couldn't do things properly was me—this deduction was something I should've come up with when I was right there.

I opened my mouth.

If it wasn't a spare key, but a legitimate key that the owner had proper ownership of.

"It's not necessarily the case that the estranged husband left his keys behind when he left that apartment, right?"

011

Saying that it wasn't necessarily the case [kagiranai] that he left his keys [kagi] behind sounded like a bad pun, but please ignore it—sometimes I'm the one that's out of his mind.

Originally, I was selfish, had few friends, tended to be at odds with others, and was not very good at working with others, which was why I couldn't come up with such an obvious idea, but the fact that I had overlooked the possibility that the crime scene was a joint effort between the couple was an embarrassing blind spot.

I'd paired up as buddies with a vampire, a corpse doll, a god, and the darkness in my heart, though... However, although the term "collaboration" may sound appropriate, it was still a misnomer.

The mother who committed abuse. The father who committed murder.

Because the process was so disjointed, the scene of the crime looked so inexplicable—if the husband came home while Associate Professor Iesumi was away, and then stabbed his wife's handmade work in the back.

With the motive of "because she was his daughter".

Was his wife's behavior, which was also the cause of their separation, too unpleasant to watch—or did the husband also think it was "his child" and stab the doll for that reason?

The extreme possibility was that he felt sorry for her because she was locked in a cage, so took pity on her and put an end to her... Did he stab her in the back because he couldn't kill her while looking at that "henohenomoheji" face in the eyes?

There could be infinite variations on the motive.

No, no no, this was still just an assumption. The wings of my imagination were flapping too much. It wasn't right to be so insistently suspicious of the husband who I'd never met, the husband whose name I didn't even know. The freedom of my inner heart should be used for little girls, tween girls, and young girls, not for suspecting someone of trespassing or murder.

"Although, it would be his own home, so it wouldn't be trespassing. And it was a doll, so it wouldn't be murder,"

said Ougi-kun.

"But, even if you don't have proof, that doesn't mean you don't have a basis for that reasoning, right? When it comes to the uneven results of that doll, as you said yourself, Araragi-senpai. The difference between that balloon-art-like form and the roughly scribbled 'henohenomoheji' face... You could think of it as the professor being better at sewing than she was at drawing, but you could also see it as each task being assigned to a different person, right?"

"......"

Group work—division of labor.

Handmade.

"If so, then I wonder what the circumstances of that were. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but Araragi-senpai, shouldn’t you start the investigation all over again? With this, it might even change the nuance behind the professor's disappearance."

"......"

I didn't think it would change anything.

If there was something to think about divided into parts, then we should also split up her disappearance into parts... Ougi-kun seemed to be pushing me towards the idea that the husband was involved in the professor's disappearance, but even in the unlikely event that that was the case, that was a job for the police to investigate.

In the first place, I didn't even have any investigatory power.

If it was an oddity phenomenon—if the "replacement child" phenomenon was involved, then as someone who's had some experience with the matter, I would not be reluctant to interject a few words of caution, but if not, then playing detective without discretion would be an illegal act.

Just as Ononoki-chan had admonished me, I should remember to rely on the police.

Or so I said, but an hour later, I was parked in the parking lot of Associate Professor Iesumi's apartment building, not near Naoetsu High's gymnasium, the venue of the girlsbas senpai-kouhai social.

Without waiting for Kanbaru and Higasa-chan to return from their shopping trip, I left a message with Ougi-kun, turned the steering wheel as far as it could go, made a U-turn, and revisited the Iesumi residence.

It's because I nonchalantly act with such ingratitude that it's been hard to make friends even in university, but I'd have to wait until next time to get pampered by high school girls.

This was urgent.

No, I wasn't pretending to be a great detective who was caught up in intellectual curiosity and impulsively embarked on a guessing game... In fact, I was the exact opposite, the type of person who avoided murder scenes, even to the point of taking detours. I sounded like I was trying to be understanding, but I honestly didn't understand why Tsukihi would go hiking with her friends after hearing a rumor that a dead body was buried there.

What the hell was she doing?

Even if it wasn't a murder or a crime, the reason I dared to revisit the apartment—where not only the act of child abuse but also the feud between husband and wife had appeared—was not out of intellectual curiosity but, dare I say it, the shield, as Ougi-chan... Ougi-kun had said.

In other words, self-protection.

It was something I'd remembered as I was speaking with Ougi-kun about the threefold locked room. Or rather, it was something I realized. Not the lock to the cage, which could easily be opened, nor the lock to the front door, where the husband might own a key—but the lock to the nursery, the second door.

As for that lock, it would not be surprising if the husband (who used to live in the house) knew where the key was, which means it wasn't necessarily a locked room... When I thought as much, I realized something.

I'd magnificently broken through it—a battering ram.

Ononoki-chan had kicked down the door, but wasn't that kind of yikes?

It had to be yikes.

Since I was entrusted with the key, I'd been confident that I wasn't trespassing this time, unlike the case with Benikujaku-chan, even though we hadn't been told we could destroy the room—the sight of the doll in the cage with its back stabbed must have confused me more than I thought, as I completely forgot to clean up the mess.

Neither the act of abusing a doll nor the act of murdering a doll was a crime, but the vandalism of the interior doors of another person's home certainly was.

Ononoki-chan...!

That girl had no hesitation in her destruction, or, being Yotsugi [余接], it was like she had no other ideas [余念]... With such a docile expression (or rather, no expression at all), she sure was good at destroying things without batting an eyelid... Speaking of which, in Benikujaku-chan's case, she'd also broken the window to the apartment without compunction.

She would probably answer proudly and without shame that she was a tool with that sort of function, but it always ended up being me that had to clean up afterwards.

It's like how, even though it's the heroes who defeat the demon king, it's the ordinary people who have to rebuild the world after it was destroyed in battle—no, this was not a story with that sort of lesson. This was simply a matter of a lack of discipline. After all, the original owner of that Ononoki-chan was that violent onmyouji... Not to mention, the current owner, Tsukihi, was not the type of person who lived for tidiness, to say the least.

Whatever it was, I hadn't thought about it enough.

It was quite the awful nursery, so the destroyed door fit right in, but even in a room that looked like the remnants of affection, that didn't mean that the door should also become remnants.

It may not be a problem or an incident at the moment, but if the disappearance of Associate Professor Iesumi continued for a long time, then someone, some party, would enter that room at some point—the management company, or even the police.

Although her whereabouts were unknown, it only meant that she did not show up at work and could not be contacted, not that she had been reported missing—the people that would likely file a missing person report, her family and parents, were probably all living in Switzerland. At the moment, the authorities did not seem to be taking any action, but even that had its limits.

If the rent wasn't paid on time, the apartment would have to be vacated at some point—and if that nursery was seen, that would cause a huge scandal. No doubt, it would be linked to her disappearance, and how would the destroyed door be seen then...?

Maybe, as a coward, I was being overly cautious—if the judiciary was going to arrest her for that level of destruction, Ononoki-chan would have been arrested a long time ago (she had once smashed the front door of the Araragi house to bits, as well as my sister).

I could assume that the person usually in charge of cleaning up after Ononoki-chan was the influential administrator of the specialists, Gaen Izuko-san—she was good at that sort of subterfuge, that "onee-san that knew everything".

Subterfuge against sabotage.

However, as my relations had currently been cut off with that onee-san, I couldn't rely on that possibility anymore... Now that I'd realized, I had to do something about it myself.

If I hadn't realized it, I could have just let it go... Even though I was supposed to be having a change of pace having fun with high school girls, switching to going and covering up a crime was quite the rollercoaster.

If the rent is withdrawn from her bank account, even if she's not there, then the payments wouldn't be delayed right away (though it depended on her bank balance), but it was better to take action as soon as I could—you could say it was fortunate that I kept the key in my pocket instead of getting rid of it... Although, if I had just thrown it away, I wouldn't have even been able to consider performing a cover-up, and may have just given up. Actual crimes were probably exposed as a result of such unimportant lapses of memory...

Life just didn't go smoothly, did it.

But I was glad that I realized at the point that Ononoki-chan was away... A former vampire under surveillance, acting arbitrarily of my own accord, could get me killed yet again. Even though I was trying to clean up after Ononoki-chan's behavior, I wouldn't accept if Ononoki-chan were to clean me up, instead.

And so, after going to a home center and picking up carpentry tools meant for repairs along the way, I revisited the Iesumi residence.

012

If I fixed the broken door quickly enough, perhaps I would make it in time for at least the afterparty of the girlsbas social—at least, that was the sweet-sounding plan I tried to devise, but that plan went awry.

Of course, I was making it sound like I was dying to attend that social, but I wasn't exactly a sociable person in the first place, so no matter what the purpose was, I wasn't exactly good with parties... When it came to the Fire Sisters' disbanding party, that troublesome guy who attended only reluctantly? That was me.

That was a party of middle school girls, huh... Well, I could do something about my social skills while I was still in college, but it seemed that I'd have to give up on attending the social altogether.

Because the door to the nursery was damaged beyond repair, so much so that I couldn't do anything about it—no, that wasn't the reason.

If that had been the case, then ultimately, I could've used my secret trick. I could have relied on the former legendary vampire Oshino Shinobu's—the former Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade's—"matter creation ability" to perfectly reconstruct the door from nothing... Although one condition was that I would have to wait until nightfall, but if so then I could simply have gone to the social while it was still daytime (maybe I did want to go after all?) and then come back to this room at night.

I would also have to pay compensation (in donuts)... However, that carefully thought-out plan ended up being useless. The state of that second door was such that it perfectly suited my independent spirit in wanting to resolve things on my own if at all possible... It was probably a good thing that Ononoki-chan kicked the door with her bare foot. If she had been wearing her usual boots, or if she had gone and used her "Unlimited Rulebook", then a hole could have been formed in the door itself. But the only damage that had been incurred was a faint footprint on the door and a few broken screws—even the hinges were mostly intact.

This was a level of DIY that I could manage with my skills—but then, why was it that I couldn't go and gleefully get pampered by high school girls?

The situation wasn’t that complicated, but it was very important, so allow me to explain it step by step—about this development that was less of a situation [jijou] and more of an anomaly [ijou].

Even though I'd been given a key, that didn't mean that I had nothing to hide, so I snuck in through the back door of the building as if I was trying to avoid the security cameras (which made me even more suspicious), and took the stairs instead of the elevator to the third floor, room 333—after all, with the homeowner missing, I didn't want anyone to think the kidnapper had come back to destroy evidence. I could say that I hadn't kidnapped anyone, but the facts were extremely close to that scenario, and that closeness could be a problem... My behavior was becoming more and more suspicious.

Well, it's impossible to avoid the cameras completely unless you become a complete vampire (then you won't be reflected in mirrors, so you'd be safe except for mirrorless cameras. Mirrorless was probably fine, too), so at some point I just had to take a "so-what" attitude... And apart from that, there were other precautions I needed to take.

Now that I'd arrived at the possibility that the separated husband was the "child murderer", I most certainly needed to be cautious that Room 333 might not necessarily be empty when I came... You might say that something like that was going a bit overboard, but I had to say that it was entirely possible for me to bump into the husband that had returned in the nursery.

It would be a terrible scene to be found in.

Even though I'd never gone through such a sad state of affairs with my actual girlfriend, why should I have to suffer like some married woman's secret lover?... However, since I, the breaker of the door (rather, an accomplice), had made my triumphant return here, it wouldn't be unusual if the husband were to return for the second time.

Not to mention the possibility of it being a situation like that Russian movie, The Return... The idea that the husband was the "child murderer" was, at present, simply my (and Ougi-kun's) own conjecture, so even if he weren't, it's conceivable that he might return home out of worry for his missing wife. In that case, we would not be of equal status. I would one-sidedly be guilty of breaking and entering.

It'd been tense when I'd opened the front door imagining a locked-up abused child, but it was also quite thrilling to open the door imagining that the father might be there.

So, after much deliberation, I decided to ring the intercom... And there was no answer. No reaction. Could I feel relief from that?

Nope, I should take precautions over relief.

Because there was one more development that I needed to take into consideration. That was the possibility that the heart of the problem, "the missing Associate Professor Iesumi herself", was simply holed up in her house—instead of disappearing or returning to Switzerland, what if she was just not contacting her work or friends, not leaving her apartment, and not using her answering machine?

It seemed like a classic trick that was often overlooked, but it was actually a stay-at-home policy that was possible because of modern society. Any necessities of life could be delivered through online shopping... Well, there would eventually be a limit to it, but even so, a person could easily spend their life like this for a week or so.

This was assuming she had the strength of mind to remain stubbornly silent even when university officials and friends were visiting her incessantly... Meanwhile, I was feeling so guilty after canceling on the social last-minute.

Oh yeah, once upon a time, I'd locked myself in the gymnasium storehouse with the intention of disappearing (please don't ask me for details), but a single message from Hanekawa was enough to shake me... So, if Associate Professor Iesumi was responsible for her own disappearance for whatever reason, I had to think that the possibility that she was hiding in her home was rather thin.

Even the possibility of exchanging greetings with the husband was clearly higher—but if I didn't properly simulate the pattern of reuniting with Associate Professor Iesumi after a few days, I figured I'd get flustered... Could I say something like, "I've come to return the key"?

Or should I just pretend to be a great detective and say something cool, like, "I knew you were here all along..."?

All the while, making an expression of understanding.

In any case, there was no answer when I pressed the intercom—from here on, my role was not to be a visitor, but to be a repairman.

Though it wasn't necessarily the home of a person I knew well, it was still my second visit to the house, so I wasn't going to get lost just from walking down the hallway of this apartment—no need to invoke the god of lost children—and I soon arrived at the nursery.

I should add that there was no sign of anyone from the living room or the first door in the hallway (most likely Associate Professor Iesumi's bedroom)—thus, the theory of the university professor having become a shut-in had all but disappeared. Rather, I should reflect upon my apparent carelessness in having left the door to that bedroom open the other day.

The second door was more than simply left open... but the extent of the destruction was such that it could be restored to its original state by hand, as I'd already mentioned.

Let's just rejoice in that.

However, the thought of rejoicing didn't pass through my mind at all, because it wasn't just the door to the nursery that had been broken.

"...Huh?"

The big problem was—the door to the cage in the corner of the nursery was broken. The other day, when I viewed this room with its blackout curtains drawn, the door of the cage had been properly bolted—but now, it was broken in a way that was almost irreparable.

It was as if it had been a cage to confine some sort of monster, and that monster forcibly pried open the iron fence from the inside... It had been warped like candy. Rather than saying the door had been broken, it was more like the door had been melted—but, needless to say, there were no monsters inside that cage.

And.

The abused doll that had been stabbed in the back with a fruit knife had also disappeared from the cage. Like her maker, she had gone missing—

013

Hm? Hmm? Hmmm?

What was going on here?

I decided to temporarily set my toolbox down on the nursery's floor... This might have been a mistake, as any sensible person would have turned on his heel immediately.

But, being a considerable fool, I couldn't help but inspect the cage. Without thinking, I chose to think—well, well, let's at least calm down.

I figured that someday I would fix my bad habit of staying in place when surprised... If I were to assess the scene objectively, it might look as if the doll escaped from the cage of its own volition, but I couldn't take that as fact just yet.

No need to panic.

I only got such a first impression because I happened to know an extreme example of an autonomously moving doll, a corpse doll... But as long as we followed common sense, dolls did not break out of prison.

Just as everyone knows well.

So, if there was someone that destroyed this cage in the past few days, it should be easily assumed that it was not the work of the trapped doll, but of someone who visited the room during that time.

It may look like it had been pried open from the inside, but maybe that was just how it looked, you know?

It appeared that Associate Professor Iesumi was not at home, and so I could make any number of hypotheses that she could have returned home temporarily after her disappearance—and when she did, perhaps she took that handmade doll with a profound level of emotional attachment with her. A similar hypothesis could easily be made in the case of the husband.

Maybe he regretted stabbing the doll that his wife "adored"... Um, maybe he took it to be repaired?

It could even be surmised that he took the doll to destroy evidence after his wife's disappearance, just as I had visited the Iesumi residence to do so.

...But, was that really the case?

Even if it wasn't the Iesumi couple, assuming a human being took that creepy doll... Who in the world would go so far as bending an iron cage to do that?

Even the shikigami and god of destruction who kicked in the second door, Ononoki-chan, would probably unbolt the cage when opening it... It was a simple mechanism that could be opened by even a kindergartener who had never seen something so ancient as a bolt lock in their life.

Yes, unless you were a three-year-old that hadn't yet entered kindergarten...

First off, it was a cage meant for animals. It wasn't some run-of-the-mill toy. What kind of force, and at what angle, would cause an iron rod to twist in such a ridiculous way?

At least with my arm strength, it would be impossible. Of course, in my vampire days, neither iron nor diamond would be anything special, but with my current arm strength...

But really, what about it?

No matter how innocent I pretended to be, I'd traveled through time, and I'd both destroyed and saved a parallel world... It made no sense to be so distraught over the escape of a doll.

But... even the "precedent", the corpse doll Ononoki-chan, needed to be used for a hundred years in order to become a tsukumogami, right? And for her to move so freely and openly, Kagenui Yozuru and Teori Tadatsuru had been burdened with the incomprehensible curse of "not being able to walk on the ground"—Ononoki-chan was a corpse doll with that much time and compensation needed.

For a stuffed doll, which had only been a stuffed doll last week, to escape from prison by force on my next visit... Was it really so simple?

"...No."

It wasn't just a stuffed doll.

It was handmade, made in place of one's child.

It had been hurt.

And it had been stabbed in the back—even though it hadn't been long, the passion put into it was certainly not superficial. It was a level of passion that would make you think, "If that much wasn't enough, then how much passion would you even need?"

I would even venture to say that there was the possibility that my visit to the nursery was a trigger... It was entirely possible that I, with my wealth of experience in strange things, had some influence over it. In the same way that the Kitashirahebi Shrine, which used to be a gathering place for "bad things", played such a role with the jagirinawa—perhaps I had become a walking attraction for those "bad things".

A magnificent self-made problem.

In order to prevent this from happening, Gaen-san should have completely sealed away the influence of the former Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, but I suppose even the most skilled of experts could make mistakes.

If that was the case, then I couldn't help but feel responsible... If I was not only the trigger for the disappearance of Associate Professor Iesumi, but also the trigger for the jailbreak of the abused doll, then—no joke—I couldn't complain if I was blasted to death by Ononoki-chan.

That girl was always no joke [joudan].

She was always a ghost story [kaidan].

However, even so, this situation was no longer something that I could cover up... I had no choice but to report to Ononoki-chan, even if it meant preparing myself to get killed. Unlike the second door, the only way to fix this warped, twisted cage back to normal would be to call in Shinobu, but if there really was a leak in the influence of that loli slave, then we couldn't easily rely on vampire powers.

I was at a loss...

In any case, whether it was my fault or not, I couldn't afford not to search for the stuffed doll that escaped from the cage, and if it came to that, then the help of a professional like Ononoki-chan was essential—as I thought that, I approached the cage and looked inside from above, just as I'd done the other day.

No matter what direction I looked in from, there was no space to hide in an empty cage... Even the fruit knife was gone.

Could it have escaped while stabbed?

If that was the case, that fugitive would be dealing with a serious injury... Could I think of it like that? Or was I empathizing too much with a lump of cloth?

But it's because of the emotional investment that that doll—let's call it the Iie-chan doll—was able to escape from the cage, wasn't it?

"Um... But, if it escaped, then where did it go?"

I voiced the question that naturally came to mind.

Of course, I would go look for it together with Ononoki-chan—well, I highly doubt it ran to the children's welfare center—but what I was referring to came before that.

I had come in through the front door. Using the key, I'd unlocked the door.

In other words, the door had been locked—if the Iie-chan doll had left from the front, from that doorway, then wasn't it strange that the door was locked?

Unlike the husband, it was hard to believe the stuffed doll possessed a key... Not many parents would entrust their keys to a three-year-old, even if the child was alive and not abused.

To examine the problem from all angles, even assuming that the Iie-chan doll still had the key... If "she" couldn't figure out how to open a bolt lock, how could she possibly know how to close a dimple lock?

In other words, roughly speaking, the Iie-chan doll didn't go out the front door... Then, could it have escaped by breaking the glass of a window somewhere? But when I entered the room, the air felt the same as when I'd been here the other day, and it didn't seem like it had been ventilated in any way...

"...It may have escaped from the cage, but."

Perhaps, the Iie-chan doll.

Was still in this apartment?

014

Surprisingly enough, I hadn't been able to quickly deduce from the warped frame of the cage the possibility that the Iie-chan doll's escape had just taken place—I hadn't imagined that the Iie-chan doll could still be at home, or even that she could still be hiding in this very nursery.

While there was certainly no place to hide in the empty cage, when the playing field consisted of the entire house, there would be plenty of hiding places for a stuffed doll the size of a three-year-old.

I was suddenly very nervous.

It happened at quite the accelerated rate, especially taking into account the fact that the fruit knife was also missing—a doll capable of irreversibly destroying a cage, while also wielding a knife? That was more than enough of a threat.

It was threatening [kyoui], and it was terrifying [kyoufu].

To think that it was not Associate Professor Iesumi but the Iie-chan doll that was holed up inside this apartment... Even though it was able to escape from the cage, did it stay in here because it couldn't figure out how to get past the front door? At the size of a three-year-old, it wouldn't be able to reach the thumbturn, either... If it had the strength to bend bars of iron, then it would be strong enough to break a window, but the question was whether or not a three-year-old understood what the substance of glass was.

For example, adult dogs were said to have the intelligence of three-year-olds, but supposedly they often ran headfirst into windowpanes... It was bit different from the concept of the mirror self-recognition test, but it wouldn't be a surprise if the Iie-chan doll couldn't conceive of breaking that transparent glass. In the same way you can't break air, which is transparent and not visible... Damn, this was making me glance around for no reason.

To think that after just barely registering the fact that a doll had escaped, I would be devising plans for my own escape... However, if I wasn't being too cowardly and the Iie-chan doll really was still inside this apartment, then you could say that there was a successful lockdown in place.

In specialist terms, a barrier.

If I were to open the front door to escape, it would result in the barrier being lifted... Of course, if I closed the door immediately and locked it tightly, then I could probably get away with it, but that couldn't be guaranteed... It was even possible that the escapee was waiting to take advantage of when I would make my escape.

So here I was, feeling a sense of responsibility and trying to figure out a way to settle the matter of this barrier... Although, if the doll had already escaped ages ago, this would just be tilting at windmills.

It wouldn't exactly be a reprehensible double standard if a stuffed doll that could pry open an iron cage with its monstrous strength could also pass through walls.

Even though I knew that very well, I still had to do whatever I could... Because if I let the Iie-chan doll leave the house right now, I had no idea where it would go off to—well, no, I did have an idea.

My idea was that the abused "three-year-old daughter" would go looking for the missing "mother" or perhaps the estranged "father"—with unexpected superpowers, that is.

That's why I had to stop it.

If it was still in here, I couldn't let it escape.

If only I had the skill to detect oddities like a radar... If it were Shinobu, she could probably do it... However, as far as I could tell from my glancing around, it seemed it wasn't still in the nursery. I also astutely made sure to look at the ceiling, but there weren't any mobiles hanging from it.

It wasn't as if I looked that carefully at the living room or the associate professor's bedroom when I arrived, but thinking about it, the most suspicious room had to be that third room, right? It seemed that the time had finally come for me to muster up the courage to enter into the estranged husband's room—a room I had not yet seen. I took one last glance at the crib to see if the doll would actually turn out to have been sleeping peacefully there, but of course, it was empty, just like the cage.

No, strictly speaking, it wasn't "just like" the cage.

Without exaggerating, the cage was completely empty, but the crib was a bed, so naturally there was a blanket inside—a blanket?

"!! Urk—!"

By the time I thought of it, it was already too late.

The blanket that flew out from the crib wrapped around my neck—with an intense power that could even bend iron.

015

I'd been calling it a lump of cloth—in other words, looking down on the fact that it was supposed to be a doll—and it was as if I was receiving retribution for it. Even though it didn't even need a change in thinking to see that the Iie-chan doll, which had been formed like a balloon animal, had untied itself and hid itself in the crib.

I promised to write a letter of reflection, about the length of this book, for my lack of consideration and inadequacy at a later date, but right now, considering the situation he was currently experiencing, what Araragi Koyomi should be writing was a letter of warning.

I wasn't saying this out of spite towards being strangled by a blanket... But if it had the ability to arbitrarily return from the shape of a three-year-old to the shape of a flat blanket, then why even bother bending the cage to escape from it?

It could just slip through the gap between the bars.

By untying itself and thinning out.

It was plausible to assume that it didn't do so because it couldn't do so at the time... It was only after escaping that it acquired the ability to "blanket-ify", if you will.

Should I say that it learned—or should I say that it grew up, like a three-year-old would?

Its growth rate, its growth potential.

As an oddity, its danger level was way too high—even though I was "former" in more ways than one, the fact that it could entrap the thrall of the King of Oddities in such a skillful way was all the more impressive.

It was probably reading too much into it to say that the doll was waiting all this time for a guy to arrive, who could teach it how to open the door—I thought I'd been plenty nervous, but it seemed I didn't have enough of a sense of urgency.

So it would not have been a surprise if I'd broken my neck here, and that would have been extremely appropriate as retribution—but it was only by sheer luck that I was here now, speaking the words of a disgraced loser.

And, if you could believe it, I was now chewing on that good fortune inside a cage—yes, the very cage that the Iie-chan doll had been confined in.

At present, I was being confined.

I'd been grabbed by the neck by an old-looking magic blanket and thrown into the cage—and, whether or not that was also something it had learned, it freed me just before I was about to faint, wrapped itself around the pried-open part of the cage, and pulled it back into its original shape.

Perhaps by coincidence or perhaps on purpose, it also twisted the bar of the bolt lock so that it was all warped and twisted—thus, I was rendered unable to escape from the cage.

I'd been locked up.

The blanket, having successfully neutralized its prey, fluttered out of the nursery without giving me so much as another glance.

After that, judging from the sounds coming from down the hallway, the blanket seemed to have opened the front door and left... The situation I had feared had easily become a reality.

If it could become a flying blanket, then the problem of its height was easily resolved, and the barrier turned out to be one that could simply be unlocked... If it had been locked in the room because it couldn't figure out how to turn the thumbturn, then I had broken that seal when I arrived to destroy evidence.

Oops.

When I came in, I really should have locked the door properly, and even set the chain lock...

At any rate... The escape of an abused doll, huh.

It was like I could kind of understand how it felt. Of course you'd want to run away after being a locked in a cage this small, right?

The sheer number of things I'd have to think about after this made me feel fed up, but first things first, I had to figure out a way out of this cage... The bolt lock had been twisted and tied to be immobile, and pulling off a stunt like warping the iron bars was impossible for (the current) me... Which meant that, good grief, I would have to come up with my own locked room trick.

How thrilling.

It had been a year since I was last confined.

Last summer, I had once been trapped in an abandoned building by Senjougahara Hitagi, who I had just started dating—at that time, she had prepared food and drinks for me, but I couldn't exactly expect anything like that now.

The blanket had escaped, and the homeowner was missing.

I could carelessly act as if I'd managed to survive, but at this rate, I was going to die of hunger in three days.

It was easy to say that people who have never been abused would never know what it felt like to be abused, but I never thought I would experience the same thing as the Iie-chan doll...

Was that also on purpose? Was it revenge?

If so, then all I could say was that it was taking revenge on the wrong person. But that didn't mean I could allow it to take revenge on the right person, either.

I had to become an escape artist.

Fortunately, I had two rough plans in mind.

Plan number one... Wake Shinobu up. The day was still long, but Shinobu wasn't exactly a vampire but the remnants of a vampire, so daytime activities were still possible with some negotiation.

Plan number two... Call Kanbaru or Ougi-kun over LINE. Fortunately, the modern convenience that was my cell phone had neither been stolen nor destroyed—Ougi-kun already knew about this apartment, and if I asked for help from those two that were familiar with oddity phenomena (especially since they appeared to be working together on some suspicious activity), they could not only help me break out of this cage, but also with the subsequent search for the Iie-chan doll.

Neither plan was that bad, but the common disadvantage that both plan one and plan two had was that they were both "super uncool"... If any of them saw me locked up in an animal cage like this, I would never be respected again, as a master or as an upperclassman.

I'd be looked down upon for the rest of my life.

Or even just abandoned.

You'd probably say something like, "I couldn't care less about your trivial sense of pride," but without that trivial sense of pride, my sense of duty towards capturing the Iie-chan doll that I'd let escape would also vanish.

If I had to resort to calling someone out from their precious daytime nap or from a big senpai-kouhai social, I had to at least escape from the cage by myself.

Seriously, I wanted to cry.

I'd experienced hell and I'd experienced nightmares, I'd traveled through time, I'd destroyed and saved a parallel world, and now I was struggling to figure out how to get out of an animal cage... But, well, in the end, it was just a cage for wildlife. Powerless before the wisdom of humanity—well, I wasn't exactly wildlife, but one of those wise humans that had ended up being confined by a blanket, but there was no need to be vain about it in this unwinnable scenario. In fact, Shinobu had seen many more shameful things in my life...

Sure enough, thanks to some sort of divine providence, there was currently a toolbox full of do-it-yourself tools in this nursery. Some idiot must have brought it in order to repair the door in order to hide evidence.

But what that idiot was about to do now was the exact opposite—using the tools to break down a door. You could compare this situation to the reality that technology developed to enrich people's lives could be used as weapons of war in the future, but putting that aside.

I reached for the toolbox through the gap in the iron bars, but alas, it was too far—and my legs fit only up to my knees. Well, thighs are called thighs [futomomo] because they are thick [futoi]. So I decided to use my head a bit and take off my trousers.

Not because I thought it would make my thighs slimmer, but because I was going to use my trousers as a lasso—first, I would take my pants out of the cage, hold the left and right cuffs with my hands through the gaps in the iron bars, and flap the trousers in the direction of the toolbox.

It was on the third try that the toolbox was successfully caught in the crotch area—all I had to do was pull it in.

If I stopped to think about what I was doing in someone else's house with my pants down, it would be a defeat for me... But it was still too early to think that I was done.

This was where the real work began.

Now, in the toolbox, which was on sale for 2,980 yen, there was... Yes, a coping saw! Just what I needed! That was what I cheered to myself, but unfortunately, it was not exactly what I needed—I only realized after I started, but it would probably take me around five years to cut the iron fence with a coping saw.

And it wasn't like I could just cut a single bar and escape. That would be the way of a true escape artist.

Then, could I use a screwdriver to dismantle the cage...? That didn't sound so easy without the assembly instructions, either... And then, it hit me.

At the bottom of the toolbox was a hammer.

DIY.

Destroy It Yourself.

Five minutes later, I succeeded in performing my trick to escape from the locked room—a quicker escape than waking Shinobu up during the day or calling Kanbaru or Ougi-kun on the phone, as it turned out.

According to my calculations, I hadn't even been trapped here for half an hour, but still, there was a real sense of liberation.

I almost wanted to express my joy through song.

With that, I wondered what the Iie-chan doll was feeling now... Right, I couldn't waste time basking in my sense of liberation.

I had to go after the blanket that had escaped.

It couldn't have gone very far yet—clinging to those thoughts, I ran out the front door, but I couldn't find the blanket or the doll anywhere.

Then, could it have figured out how to use the elevator? Or perhaps, the fire escape—no, it was a flying blanket, so I suppose I could skip those formalities. The corridor in front of the entrance faced the sky, so once it was out, the Iie-chan doll was free to go.

I tried to lean over the railing to get a better look, but I didn't see any blanket dancing in the wind... It didn't seem there was any chance of bringing out the punny phrase, "The futon flew away! [futon ga futtonda]", that I had prepared for when I found it.

Still, I had to keep going without losing to my despair—urged on by my frustration, I ran down the stairs. It was not for the sake of being cautious towards the security cameras, like I had done on my way up, but the result of impatience that prevented me from waiting for the elevator. I could at least say that I was rational enough not to dive from the third floor into the parking lot.

And then, with no particular destination in mind, I jumped into my New Beetle and drove off—or so I planned, but...

"Whoa!"

I yelled.

Despite the despair I was facing, what leaked out was not an expression of grief, but an exclamation of astonishment—the four tires of my beloved car had all gone flat.

Or I should say, they had been forced to go flat... It looked like the thick rubber had been torn apart with brute force, leaving the wheel's rim almost bare.

I'd been trying to go anywhere while chasing after the flying blanket, but this meant I could go nowhere—how clever of you, Iie-chan doll.

Fifteen minutes ago, it had carelessly confined me without taking away my cell phone, but now, it had obtained the judgment to precisely take away my means of transportation—I had no idea how it was able to determine that the New Beetle was my car, but that three-year-old sure was growing up fast.

I was excited for this one's future prospects.

[leiasfanaccount648]

Is It Enough?

Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

A/N: I got inspired by some lovely Haikyuu writers (as well as some real life events) to make my own scenario. Also, gif credits go to the maker, not me. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Tags: @briswriting @mikwrites @haikyuuopworld​

Summary: After dating throughout and after high school, Hajime decides to propose to his girlfriend of 5+ years. Of course, the process leading up to popping the question is a lot harder than he realized it would be. 

Word Count: 5410

Warnings/Contains: TONS of fluff, fair amount of angst/sadness, nerves. Also, disclaimer, I did google searches and currency transfers/differences for parts of the fic (you’ll see) so I apologize in advance if anything seems incorrect/weird.

Google Search:

what is the best way to propose

Search Results:

Prep a place in a private beach with an intimate tent and rose petals. Find a private beach to go on bended knee for a simple proposal idea. Put a ring on in it down by the beach. Get snazzed up and then suggest walking down by the water.

“There’s no way I can do that.”

Google Search:

When is an appropriate time to propose

Search Results:

While some would prefer to be in a relationship for two or three years before even thinking about getting married, a new study conducted by F. Hinds says the optimum time is just ONE YEAR and eight months (and three days to be exact!)

“Am I too late to even be doing this?”

Google Search:

how much is the average engagement ring

Search Results:

According to recent surveys, most couples expect to spend between ¥108,022 and ¥540,110 on an engagement ring. The actual average cost for an engagement ring is over ¥665,796. With all that said, most women are reasonable creatures.

“God, I can’t afford anywhere close to that.”

Relationships can be many things, whether they’re serious, just starting out, or even just with a friend or family member. Either way, complicated things always come rushing in that either strengthen or ruin them.

For Hajime, he had been in a serious relationship with his girlfriend for years, and he had been struggling with something that most men could probably figure out and accomplish in a matter of months.

He had been at it for almost 2 years, and it was a simple proposal.

“Iwaizumi!”

Hajime quickly turned around at the voice, seeing a girl he vaguely recognized from his class running down the hall towards him. She was not only sudden about her words but also a little frantic; god knew whatever she wanted from him, but he was about to find out himself. “Yeah? Can I help you?” He looked the girl up and down real quick, noticing how she was slightly out of breath. He took the moment to try and remember her name as well, but she took care of that for him.

“Although we’re in the same class I doubt you know who I am,” she laughed, finding the idea funny, “but I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m really struggling on the english homework that’s due at the end of the week, and I know that you’re good at the subject so I was wondering if maybe you’d take some time out of your life to help me pass?”

Hajime glanced to the side to see if his friends were present, but noticed that they were still walking down the hallway to head towards the gym. Only Oikawa stopped when he realized that his best friend wasn’t walking beside him anymore, watching the two talk from a couple feet away.

“Uh, I mean,” Hajime didn’t know what to say at first, not wanting to be rude but still wanting to be a decent human being. “I have volleyball practice before and after school every day, but if you want to meet during lunch or something I can try my best to help you.”

“Really?” The girl gave him a relieved yet bright smile, as though asking him something like that was the most intimidating thing to ever do. She quickly bowed her head in thanks. “Thank you so much, I owe you big time!” Hajime smiled a little himself, opening his mouth to respond but his idiotic friend called for him.

“Iwa-Chan! Quit talking with your admirers and let’s get going.” Oikawa began walking down the hall after their other friends. “Us first years can’t be late you know!”

Hajime sighed in both annoyance and embarrassment. He turned his head slightly towards Oikawa. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He glanced back at (Y/N). “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

(Y/N) shook her head, smiling. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She began to walk back towards the classroom, waving back at him. “Thanks again, Iwaizumi!”

Hajime stopped from typing on his computer as he thought back to almost 6 years ago. The moment that he met the love of his life was cliche for sure, but he still loved her nonetheless. From the random nonsense she would spew at him, to how cute she looked when struggling to reach for something and would refuse to admit that she needed his help, to how she would comfort him after bad practices and games alike; there wasn’t a single thing about her that made him not want to love her. That was why he had to marry her.

“Iwa!” (Y/N) quickly made her way over to Hajime, smiling bright despite it being so late in the day. “Are you ready to go?”

Hajime turned to look at her, ignoring Oikawa’s rant about whatever skill or technique he had been working on that day during practice. He managed a smile despite being so worn out from the last few hours. “Yeah, I just need to get changed real quick then we can head out.”

It had been almost a year since the two of them started dating, and things were going well. Slow, but good nonetheless. They ate lunch together, walked to and from school, and had the occasional date night every other week or so. It was simple, but with them still being in high school and being busy with things in their lives outside of classes, it was just about all they could do anyways.

Of course, Hajime had the constant thought at the back of his mind of whether or not it was enough for (Y/N).

They had just started their second year at Aoba Johsai, and although both of them acted comfortable with the way they had been doing things, Hajime was worried that she would leave him for someone that could give her more. This then led him to worry if (Y/N) was worrying about whether or not she was enough for him.

She constantly reassured him that it was okay if he couldn’t walk her to school one morning due to an earlier morning practice, or if she happened to have a family event in the evening so they couldn’t get snacks after their clubs were done for the day. As long as they could keep in touch, and still felt the same about one another, everything was okay, at least in her eyes.

He believed what she said, but Hajime still had to ask her something for the sake of his sanity before he got desperate enough to ask Oikawa for help. It wasn’t that he hated any ideas or suggestions he thought of, he just didn’t think that a plan from a guy who only flirts and rarely (actually) dates women would work in Hajime’s case.

Iwaizumi finished changing as fast as he could, quickly saying goodbye to everyone in the clubroom before leaving and rushing down the metal stairs to meet his girlfriend at the bottom. “Ready when you are.”

Their walk was nothing out of the ordinary. Loosely held hands, talking about how their clubs went and sharing funny stories or jokes about some of their friends (mostly Oikawa), and overall enjoying each other’s company. They decided to skip snacks on the way home tonight, as (Y/N) told Hajime that her mother had planned a big dinner and didn’t want to miss out on it, but that made the walk no less interesting.

Silence fell upon them after (Y/N) finished talking about how one of her friends in her club had accidentally messaged their crush about something embarrassing, and a slight breeze went past the two of them, making (Y/N) shiver slightly. She didn’t say anything, but Hajime noticed and let go of her hand to put his arm around her waist and hold her close.

“Iwa-”

“You’re cold.”

(Y/N) didn’t say anything else, only smiling and leaning against him as they continued to walk. A moment or so later, Hajime spoke up.

“By the way, do you have anything going on in a couple months?”

The two stopped at an intersection to wait for the crosswalk to turn green and (Y/N) took out her phone to check her calendar. She shrugged as she looked through it, double checking just to make sure. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Are you busy June 18th?”

(Y/N) glanced at the date again on her phone as Hajime responded almost immediately. She smiled as she remembered the date. “You mean to tell me you’re planning something for our 1 year anniversary?” She held back a giggle as she saw his face flush slightly. She always found it cute when he let his guard down and got flustered because of her.

Hajime glanced up, seeing the crosswalk signal change. He pulled (Y/N) close to him once again and started to cross the street with her. He sighed, knowing it was now or never. “Well, I’m planning on it.” Here it goes. “I’m just not entirely sure what to do.”

(Y/N) did her best to look up at him, despite him holding onto her the way that he was. “What do you mean?” She didn’t necessarily understand why he seemed so unsure and nervous on the subject. Afterall, all she could really ask for was a day with him by herself; however, there was a look in his eye as Hajime continued to look ahead at the sidewalk that practically told her that an answer like that wouldn’t suffice for him. “You don’t have to worry yourself, Iwaizumi. I don’t need anything special or extravagant like what most girls would want.”

“But I feel like I could be doing more and,” he paused, glancing down at the concrete. “I just don’t know what I can do for you.” There it was. He didn’t plan on saying it that quickly into the conversation, but it was racking his mind like crazy.

(Y/N) forced the two of them to slow their walk until they were stopped. She stood in front of him; the look in her eyes almost held the same emotion his did: worry. “Wait, is there a problem with me? Is what we’ve been doing getting old?” Of course she knew it was a little irrational to think much less say these thoughts to him, but now she couldn’t help it. Hajime shook his head, his gaze never leaving her eyes.

“No, no, of course not.” He paused, quickly gathering his thoughts. “If anything, it’s more of the other way around.” He laughed softly, part of it almost forced out. He took hold of her hands, looking at them before meeting her gaze once again. “I just care about you so much that I’m afraid of screwing up what we already have.”

“But I’ve already told you that I don’t need much.”

“Yes, but you deserve so much more.”

(Y/N) felt her heart practically skip at his words, touched and even felt the love radiating off his words. She knew that they hadn’t been dating long enough for most people to say it, but she could still feel the love between the two of them.

(Y/N) didn’t know until Hajime told her almost a year later, but that was the moment that he realized he loved her. He also didn’t believe her at first when she said that part of her knew. It was all so uncanny to both of them that it just felt unreal. Of course, both of them knew that they didn’t care how typical their relationship was. It was theirs and no one else’s.

Hajime took a deep breath, the smile slowly leaving his face as he stared at the computer screen, looking through link after link, google search after google search, trying to find not only the right ring, but the right time and place as well. He sighed again, shaking his head.

“This isn’t working.”

He stood up from his desk, grabbing his wallet, keys, and jacket before heading out the door. Maybe some hands on searching would help him. They had come this far, and he knew that he couldn’t fail her now.

“I just,” (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that won’t let up about this.”

It was late, around 10pm on a Friday, and (Y/N) had been on a skype call with Hajime for the past half hour or so. She hadn’t been messaging him for a few hours since he dropped her off at home, which worried him a little, but he knew that she wouldn’t be ignoring him on purpose. So he decided to keep himself distracted until he received a Skype call on his computer from her.

He was a little confused, as they didn’t Skype often, nor had she texted prior to calling him. Of course, that didn’t stop him from walking over to his desking and sitting down before answering the call. He felt his heart break at the sound and sight of her crying, one hand holding her forehead as she the other held a crumpled up tissue to her eyes. Hajime would have done anything to physically be with her right now, but he knew that he couldn’t at the moment.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just my parents again.” She sniffled, looking up at the camera as she heard his voice. “I swear once we’ve graduated, I’m going to keep as little contact with them as possible.”

Ever since (Y/N)’s parent’s met Hajime, they loved him. They knew he was caring, protective, and all around a great guy for their daughter. When they found out his intentions after high school, they started to suggest things to (Y/N) that, in short terms, would make her want to either push Hajime to consider a different career, or even break up with him.

Yes, Hajime was a great volleyball player, but neither of (Y/N)’s parents thought that he could make a living playing professionally. Sports at the national level were hard enough to make into as it is, and as talented as he was, neither of them thought he could.

Hajime was aware of this, after (Y/N)’s parents started talking to her about life after high school, and he honestly didn’t care for their opinions on his playing; but after seeing how upset they made (Y/N) and realizing that he didn’t know himself how he was supposed to make his girlfriend’s parents completely happy with her choice of being with him, he couldn’t help but be annoyed and upset as well.

Hajime had managed to calm (Y/N) down on the matter, but her thoughts about life after graduation continued. Yes, the year had just started, but there was still so much to decide on. What would life after the two of them graduated be like? Would they both be in college; same or different? Would Hajime go out for a national team and make it resulting in her to go wherever he went, or be in a long distance relationship? Would neither of them go to college, each get a job, and move in somewhere together?

So many questions ran through her head, and Hajime could tell even if she was through a screen. Just in case her parents might have been able to hear, he quickly pulled out his phone and sent her a text. As she received it, (Y/N) glanced up at her computer to see Hajime simply looking at her and gesturing for her to open it.

Hajime: You wanna go get some food?

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile, quickly replying.

(Y/N): Yes please

Hajime: Great. I’ll pick you up in 10

She glanced up at the screen one more time, seeing him smile at her. It read everything, but she still said it nonetheless. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Just like he said, Hajime picked her up at her house (as it hadn’t been the first time she had snuck out), and he drove the two of them to her favorite fast food place. They went through the drive-thru but stayed in the parking lot to eat as they had nowhere else to go. This time, it was (Y/N) who had to ask him a question that had been rattling her mind.

“What do you think our lives are going to be like after we graduate?”

Hajime looked over at her, still chewing his food, and saw the look on her face. Part of her was still thinking about what her parents said about him, but he couldn’t blame her. He swallowed and turned in his seat to face her. “Well, what would you like it to be?”

(Y/N) looked down for a moment in thought and smiled. It was as though she had already thought about it. “I would love for us to live together. If only I go to college, I’d study while you play for one of the national level teams, and I’d also get a job to help pay for things.” She set the bag of food down on the floor of the car below her seat before holding both of her knees in her arms as she sat. She continued to think about what their life could be like, a fond smile still on her face.

“However, if you don’t make a national team, I know you’ll still play at the college we decide to go to. Hell, maybe even Oikawa will follow us there if he doesn’t make a team either.” She chuckles, causing Hajime to do the same. She bit her lip in thought, letting go of her knees so her legs could relax and looking out through the car windshield at the street 10 or so feet away from them. Hajime stayed silent as he knew (Y/N) had more that she wanted to say.

“Later down the road after I, or we both,” she glanced at him, “graduate, we’ll continue to live together. We’ll both have stable jobs, and I just know you’re going to be involved with professional volleyball whether you’re on the court, interviewing players, or spectating games.” She smiled to herself again. “And,” she looked up at him once more, “we’ll even get married.”

Hajime considered that either time had stopped or his heart had. Whether it was one, the other, or both, his gaze did not leave hers. He was so surprised by her last statement that his face didn’t show any other emotion other than shock. (Y/N) couldn’t tell if it was the good or bad kind. Eventually, he spoke up, his hand reaching out to hold her own. “You really mean that?”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop the tearful smile from appearing on her face, nodding and squeezing his hand slightly. “Yes, Hajime.” She took hold of his other hand. “I love you so much and I want us to be together for as long as time will allow us.”

Hajime didn’t stop himself, nor could he if he wanted to. He leaned over the center console of the car and kissed her, one of his hands letting go of hers to gently hold the back of her neck to keep her close.

They kissed for a few seconds before (Y/N) broke away to climb over the gearshift to straddle his lap. She pulled him close once again to resume the kiss, her hands holding his shoulders and neck while his stayed on her waist.

Soon enough, (Y/N) was clinging to Hajime with all that she had, smiling and giggling in between kisses and causing him to do the same. She paused for a moment, resting her forehead against his, both of them breathless.

“Hajime?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he still heard her nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin again. “I love you so much.”

Hajime smiled as well, one hand gently holding onto her cheek as his eyes closed. “I love you, too.”

“We carry a wide selection of rings varying from bands to the diamonds, and we can customize just about any ring to make sure that she says yes.”

Hajime nodded, paying careful attention to what the saleswoman was telling him. She was nice and soft with her words, as though she had gone through her fair share of nervous boyfriends trying to find the perfect ring. He appreciated the help as much as the next guy, but now that he had done all the research he could and was finally looking in a store, it was as though all of that research was gone from his head.

“So,” she turned to face Hajime, still smiling as sweet as ever. “Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for? Or possibly a style or cut that you know she’s wanting?”

Hajime shrugged, a nervous smile on his face. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.”

“Well that’s totally fine!” She smiled, walking over to a display of rings. “Lots of people come in not knowing what they’re looking for. However,” she walked behind the display, gesturing to it. “These styles and cuts are the most popular with our customers.”

Hajime nodded, looking over each ring individually. They were all beautiful for sure; some had plain bands, others had designs or diamonds on the sides of the main gem. There were rings that had one big diamond, rings with 2 or 3 small ones, and he could picture (Y/N) each and every one of them. Then he saw the price tags, and his heart dropped.

His gaze went to each and every one, and it was as though he could feel his face get paler as he read over all of them. He and (Y/N) were halfway through their second year in college, and he knew that both of them were in quite a bit of debt as it was. Paying for any one of these rings would probably put them even more into the negative. He couldn’t do that to her.

Then he pictured him calling Oikawa for help and possibly ruining the relationship to the point that she may dump him. He just couldn’t leave the store empty handed.

Hajime cleared his throat to not seem too uncertain or even unstable. He looked up at the woman across the display. “Pardon me for asking, but what are the least expensive rings you have available?”

The woman stared at him for a second, a little shocked that he asked that out of all the possible questions she already had an answer for, but she still did her job with the same kind smile. She walked over to a different display, Hajime following close behind on the other side of the glass cases. “Well, I wouldn’t call them the cheapest diamond rings, of course, but they’re definitely the least in value given the sizes of the diamonds and/or the styles and material of the bands.”

Hajime nodded, once again looking over each of the rings by what they looked like before looking at the prices. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could practically see why these rings were the least expensive. They weren’t as flashy or as big as the most commonly sold; and he knew that (Y/N) had told him time and time again that she didn’t need what most girls wanted, and that what he offered her would always be enough. Five and a half years into the relationship, but he still second guessed himself on that matter.

Hajime blinked a couple times to clear his thoughts, and began to look over the price tags. Once again, he could picture (Y/N) wearing them, but they didn’t seem as perfect as the ones in the first display case. But the price tags were in his range at the moment, and he thanked every god he could that he had been saving up over the last two years.

He then noticed a ring that was practically in the bottom corner of the display, standing at ¥26,443.56, which he knew was extremely cheap for an engagement ring. Of course, it was also the simplest and smallest. The lady behind the counter noticed his eye on it, and gently pulled it out of the case for him to see up close.

“This one is probably the most stereotypical, as it’s a simple 14k white gold band with a 0.25 carat round cut diamond with six prongs holding it. It’s the smallest we have to offer, but it might just be in your price range along with the other rings here.” She smiled and placed the ring back on the cushion on which it was displayed.

Hajime nodded, glancing over at the other display he first saw. The rings he saw in there were more extravagant and and elegant, and he could easily pick any one of them as they all would look beautiful on (Y/N); however, he just couldn’t put the two of them in debt over a ring that he may have to return anyway from not making payments on time. He took a deep breath and looked down at the ring that the woman had taken out of the display case, and smiled.

‘This one is probably the most stereotypical.’

Just like he and (Y/N). This was the ring.

“I’ll go with this one.”

~    ~    ~

Later that evening, Hajime had decided to throw away all suggestions that the internet gave him and go with his gut feeling with proposing: a nice home cooked dinner in the comfort of the apartment they had lived in since they graduated high school, and at the end he’d get down on one knee and ask the fabled question.

(Y/N) been at work all afternoon, and it had been a rough one. Customers go frustrated, coworkers not doing what they were supposed to, her boss “kindly” warning her of some things. It was practically the whole nine yards and all she wanted was for Hajime to hold and comfort her. The moment she opened the door, she almost slammed it closed as she walked inside. She quickly took off her shoes and dropped her bag at the door before heading towards the kitchen where she knew Hajime would be making dinner. The moment she saw him, he was already making his way towards her and immediately took her into his arms.

The moment Hajime heard the door open and slam shut, he knew something was wrong. He turned the stove off and started walking towards the door. He met her half way, his arms around her waist while hers were around his middle. She couldn’t help but tear up finally letting go of all the pent up stress the day had brought upon her.

Part of Hajime didn’t want to bring up the proposal, but part of him also wanted to make her feel better from it. And as the night wore on, he couldn’t help but sway back and forth between each decision. First, he managed to calm her down and make her feel better, but then he shortly forgot about the dinner and almost burnt it. Then, while dinner tasted great, he forgot to finish making the desert and (Y/N) had to help him. While he appreciated the help, he wanted this night to be for her. She deserved so much and no matter what he did, it just didn’t seem to be-

“Hajime.”

He flinched slightly as he felt (Y/N) hug him from behind. He offered to wash the dishes while she got a quick shower, and he didn’t realize how harshly he was scrubbing at a plate until (Y/N) got his attention. He had been so lost in thought all evening, more so all day than anything else, that it was really starting to catch up with him. He sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“That’s what couples are supposed to do.” (Y/N) smiled as she got a chuckle out of him. “And then they make you feel better again with distractions or solutions.” She let go of him, walking around to sit on the counter next to the sink. She was dressed in her robe, hair still wet, but she still looked as beautiful as ever in Hajime’s eyes.

“Well you, for sure, are a distraction, my love.” He smiled cheekily, moving to stand in between her legs and hold onto her waist while he kissed her gently. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, pulling away first.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll help you with whatever it is.”

Hajime stared at her for a second before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the black box that held the ring. He didn’t need to open it as he saw (Y/N)’s eyes widen. She immediately felt herself tear up and held one hand to her mouth. Her eyes stayed trained on the box while his stared at her own. “It’s this that’s been troubling me.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for over 5 years, and I plan to never stop. We’ve been there for each other through so many pinnacle moments of our lives from when I lost my last high school game to when you finally stood up to your parents about what you were going to do with your life.” Hajime’s breath hitched a little as (Y/N) finally looked up to meet his eye. “I know that we’re going to have both hardships and great times together ahead of us, but as long as I have you getting me through it,” he smiled, starting to tear up. “I know that nothing can get between us.” Then he frowned, glancing down at the box himself.

“However, I know that I can’t always offer you the best that the world has to offer. Whether it be the house we stay in, the work lives we have, or even this ring.” He opened the box, starting to feel a small wave of embarrassment. “I’m always afraid that who I am and what I have to offer may never be enough for you someday, but damn it I will always try to be.”

Hajime paused, feeling that if he went on any longer that he’d bore her or she’d make him stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and removed the ring from it’s box. “I know that it’s not a whole carat or fancy looking, but it’s all that I could afford, and I hope that you’ll accept it and me for the rest of your life.” He smiled, seeing as (Y/N) was doing the same despite the tears starting to fall. “So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

(Y/N) let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at first, and grinned wide. “Yes.” She nodded, pulling him in for a kiss. This time, it was Hajime who broke it first, sliding the ring onto her finger. She whispered.

“No matter if you're rich, poor, can give me nothing, or give me something, I will always love you Hajime Iwaizumi. And I will never trade you for someone else no matter what they do to try and persuade me.”

Hajime couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he leaned in close and kissed her again. “I’ll always love you, too, (Y/N) Iwaizumi.”

(Y/N) laughed softly, playing with the hairs on the back of his head as her hands rested there. “Oh, so it’s already decided that I’m taking your last name?”

He laughed as well. “I mean can you blame me? I don’t think Hajime (R/N) really fits. Unless you really think that the Iwaizumi name isn’t enough for you.” He smirked, enjoying how he got her laugh so hard at that.

“While I’d greatly agree for the sake of messing with you, it actually sounds perfect.” She smiled, eyes never leaving his. “As long as it’s from you, it’s enough.”

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (ch.20)

Chapter twenty: meeting two bosses (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission says while giving a slight bow. She was smiling, but it somehow seemed forced and distant. You weren’t sure if there was truly something off about her greeting or if you were just biased knowing everything she’d put your boyfriend through. This was the woman who had forced Hawks to endanger himself by infiltrating the villains. The same woman who had decided it was worth it for Best Jeanist to die and for Hawks to become a murderer. But she didn’t know that you knew all of that, so you had to be pleasant.

“Likewise,” you say, trying to match her level of cold politeness.

“I meant to go out to the lab and meet you when you were studying the nomus there, but I never got the chance,” the woman tells you. “I was curious about the person our Hawks had suddenly taken an interest in. It was the first time he’d ever asked a favor of the commission, so of course we were intrigued.”

“Aw boss, stop it!” Hawks groans playfully from next to you, “You’re embarrassing me.” To anybody else it probably appeared that the winged hero had a very close and comfortable relationship with his boss to speak to her this way, but you had known him long enough now to be able to tell when he was faking that incredible charisma and when it was genuine. Being able to read Hawks wasn’t the only way to know the true nature of the relationship though. It was made very clear by the irritated scowl Hawks received from the president. She didn’t appreciate his theatrics. You didn’t feel sorry for her, but you could admit to yourself that it was most likely a difficult job trying to manage a person like Hawks, especially when he didn’t want to be managed.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you guys from important hero stuff,” you say while reaching into your bag and pulling out a plastic bento box filled with rice, vegetables, and fried chicken. “I was just swinging by to drop off Hawks’ lunch on my way to work.”

“You made me lunch?!” you boyfriend raises his feathery eyebrows, pretending to be surprised even though you’d discussed the idea a few days prior. He was so busy now that it was nearly impossible for you to meet up in private. It was also difficult to discuss things secretly in public. So, it was decided that you would start to bring him lunch with whatever news you had for him written on a napkin inside. It was a little risky, but as long you always delivered the bento box directly into his hands things should be okay. The only problems were coordinating when he’d be at Commission headquarters and finding a way for him to respond to your messages. The only solution for the former was for Hawks to quickly drop his used lunchbox back off with you in between his hero and villain duties. It was a hectic lifestyle, and you hoped it wouldn’t have to continue for very long.

“Of course I did,” you flash a smile at the president before leaning into Hawks’ side. “He works so much, I have to make sure he eats something to keep up his energy.” You send your boyfriend a stern glare, “Something at least mildly healthy.” He wraps an arm around you presses his lips to your cheek.

“I think it’s actually just an excuse for you to come see me,” he teases and you acknowledge that there was some truth to that. Hawks’ boss was starting to look uncomfortable and impatient so you thank her for taking the time to meet you, say goodbye to Hawks, and then make your way to catch the next train to Jaku hospital.

Dr. Garaki was much stricter with you now that you knew about his second secret lab. He not only had you leave all your belongings in a locker now, but also had you go through a metal detector to check for any hidden devices you might have on your person. He was very apologetic about it every time, but you assured him that you understood the need for such precautions. You now had access to all his nomu research and he wanted to keep the secret contained as much as possible. It was already a bit stressful for him knowing you had the knowledge that he had been close friends with All For One and was now working directly with the League of Villains by providing them with Nomus.

“I’m going to introduce you to someone today,” the doctor tells you as you step into the elevator together. “It’s the person we’re going to be giving All For One’s quirk to.”

“Oh,” a knot of dread forms in your stomach. “But we’ve only just started doing simulations for that experiment. We’re nowhere near ready to do human trials.”

“There’s no time for all that,” the doctor sighs while taking off his glasses to rub his eyes warily. “Of course we want the highest chance of success possible though, so we’re going to be doing a few test runs with just his DNA before we go ahead with the real procedure.”

You wanted to object for so many reasons. You had a decent understanding now of how the nomus had been created even though it made you sick knowing how Dr. Garaki had fused the corpses of random people in excruciating detail. Thanks to your quirk, you’d identified some of the issues that were causing the fused DNA to look so mutated. This was hopefully going to improve the nomus ability to function more like a human with complete independence rather than mindless monsters. There hadn’t been a chance to test this theory though since the nomus took so long to finish. Sure, you might be able to get a living person’s DNA to merge with All For One’s, but there was no guarantee that the person would still be themselves or even be human for that matter.

The elevator doors slide open and you walk into the familiar lab where you’d done all of your quirk training until now. It didn’t take long for your eyes to land on the figure of a scrawny person hunched over one of the lab tables, tapping a finger impatiently against the smooth black surface. He had a head full of messy white hair that fell down to his shoulders. You didn’t want him to turn around, but knew it was inevitable.

“It’s about time, Doctor.” The man’s voice comes out dry with a slight whine that sent chills up your arms and neck. “You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I was only gone a few minutes,” the doctor seemed unaffected by the person’s creepy presence which only intensifies the moment he turns to face you. He had blood red eyes surrounded by rings of flaking dead skin. His color was sickly pale, and his lips were dry and scabbed. He looked like a walking corpse.

“This is Tomura Shigaraki,” Dr. Garaki points both hands at the man as if her were a prize being revealed from behind a curtain. That was not a prize you wanted anything to do with however. Not even Hawks had been allowed to meet this man, yet here he was standing just a couple feet away from you. You’d rather not have the so called honor.

“The leader of the League of Villains,” you do your best to sound confident. “I never imagined I’d ever meet you. I’d shake your hand but…” Shigaraki narrows his eyes but his chapped lips pull up into a slight smirk.

“You’re going to be doing more than shaking his hand today,” The doctor actually laughs. He goes over to one of the cabinets and takes out some supplies. “You’re going to be drawing his blood and running a few other tests.”

You had no idea why you had to do this. Surely the doctor was quite capable of getting all the samples he needed by himself. There was no reason for you to have to get so up close and personal with a guy who’d demolished an entire city with just the touch of his hand. You knew his quirk allowed him to disintegrate anything he touched with all five of his fingers, and you wanted to stay as far away from that as humanly possible. The only explanation was that the doctor was testing you to see if you were still willing to stay neutral about his research even after being faced with a daunting situation like this. You muster up your courage and take the supplies from him.

“This will be easier if you sit down,” you tell Shigaraki who raises the skin above his eyes. There was no hair there so you were hesitant to say eyebrows. You point to a stool and he takes a seat.

“If you hurt me in any way, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” his raspy voice sent another wave of fear through you but you only frown at him in response.

“I hope you’re not afraid of needles then,” you hold out your hand as a signal for him to give you his arm. “Or else I’m in big trouble.” The doctor chuckles at your humor but Shigaraki just scowls.

After about an hour of tests, the doctor was finally satisfied with the amount of information you’d gathered. You were surprised when he allowed you to go home early. You wondered how Shigaraki got in and out of the building without being seen as the doctor walked you back to the elevator. He had to make sure you didn’t leave with anything important. Even though it was a relief to be out from under that horrible glare of Shigaraki, you couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid as you made your way home. You weren’t sure you could fit enough napkins in Hawk’s lunchbox to describe the terrifying experience you’d just had.

[whisker-biscuit]

In the Name of Science: Chapter 1

Fandom: Sonic Movie (2020)

Rating: T for unethical experimentation, implied violence and gore, and implied torture

Summary: Tom and Maddie didn’t make it in time to rescue Sonic from Robotnik. Hopefully it’s not too late to save him now. Unfortunately, hope is hard to come by in the labs of the mad doctor himself.

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Dr. Ivo Robotnik, M.D. Log 1 

Preliminary report: Subject is 3’3”, 14.1 lbs., male. Age and maturity unknown. Vaguely resembles four-toed hedgehog from outward appearance and obvious anatomy. Fur and quill are primarily cobalt blue, with chest and stomach fur light coral peach. Blood sample taken, analysis tbc. Note: internal anatomy to be examined at later date, due to blunt trauma and related injuries.

At 23:30 MST during transportation, subject’s heart ceased regular palpitations. Resuscitation was administered and subject was revived successfully. No other heart or organ irregularities occurred, and subject was transferred to personal laboratory at 1:56 MST for examination. About to conduct preliminary quill count and inspection at time of report.

Subject has yet to regain consciousness since initial containment.

End log

…….

Sonic comes to on a metal table, his face smashed against cold steel and his limbs stretched above and below him, cuffed together. He groans as the aches and pains from the fight with Eggman catches up all at once, and his body’s current position certainly isn’t helping. The hedgehog rubs his cheek against the metal, using the cold to try and ground himself so he can figure out how bad his situation is.

He doesn’t remember much beyond trying to escape at the top of the pyramid. There was heat at his back, and then everything hurt even more than it does now. So that must mean….

Something starts touching his quills. He stiffens.

“H-Hey, who’s there? What do you want?”

There’s no response, and whatever is messing with his quills moves down to their base, meeting fur and skin. Sonic gasps as the same freezing sensation from the table runs along his back. A weird high-pitched whirring fills the air as it goes along. Oh, it’s a robot doing that.

He struggles to turn his head to get a better look at this thing, but he can’t move more than a few inches. The robot continues to probe at his quills, seemingly oblivious to his response, and no matter how Sonic tries to twist and turn, nothing changes at all.

After what feels like an eternity, the robot pulls away and makes a sudden loud clicking sound. It startles the hedgehog into a jolt that he immediately regrets. His body protests, loudly.

“Quill count: 5933.”

“What?” He asks through gritted teeth, waiting for the pounding pain to go away.

The robot doesn’t reply, but then it starts poking at his fur again. Two fingers – are they fingers? Sonic hopes they’re fingers – find a longer quill and pinch at its base. He realizes what’s going to happen right before it does.

“Don’t-!”

It pulls. He sucks in a breath, closing his eyes as the quill is ripped out of his back. He’s no stranger to this sensation, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay with it happening. The robot finds another quill. Sonic flinches and rubs his cheek against the cold.

“Quill count: 5928,” the unfeeling thing announces to nothing once it’s done. It withdraws from the hedgehog who is currently trying to stay calm, holding the stolen quills and moving to some place Sonic still can’t see.

Tired, hurting, and now conflicted between angry and panicked, the teen decides to take a risk.

“Hey Eggman, I know you can hear me! Come out where I can see you! I know you’re scared of people who can kick your butt, but this is ridiculous!”

He yells it out with as much bravado as he can manage, and later he’ll say he was pretty proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. Then he listens, and waits.

For a long while he stays alone in that room, with only the robot doing whatever it’s doing to his quills. But eventually there’s the whoosh of an automatic door opening somewhere behind his left side. Sonic turns his head that way just in time for a long black coat to take up his entire view.

“Finally awake, I see.” The man says, and it’s hard to tell whether he’s pleased or annoyed by this fact. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly 8 hours.”

Sonic’s eyes trail up slowly, meeting the maniacally-gleeful face of his captor. He swallows, and it takes a few moments to find his voice again.

“D-Dang, that long? Must have been quite the beauty rest. How about you let me go so I can look myself in the mirror and tell you if it worked?”

“Just as chatty and full of hot air as your moronic human guardian. I should have expected that, which I did. Nothing ever gets past me, little alien.” 

The hedgehog falters. For a single second. “Oh yeah? Better get used to failure then, Eggman. I’ve gotten past you so many times already that I’ve lost count.”

Robotnik takes hold of his ear and twists. Sonic’s mouth clamps shut to keep the whine under his tongue, but he never takes his wide eyes off the scientist.

“Here’s how it’s going to go, hedgehog – which is what you most closely resemble in physical structure and biology, despite the incredibly irrational discrepancies.” 

He leans in to speak directly against the teen’s caught ear. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you, however I want, whenever I want, and the only words I want coming out of your mouth unless stated otherwise are ‘yes Doctor,’ ‘no Doctor,’ or ‘thank you Doctor.’ Do you understand?”

Sonic takes slow, shallowed breaths as he listens, and he steels himself before offering a nickname he’s only heard Donut Lord say twice ever.

“Sure thing, Dr. Douche.”

The hand on his ear pulls so hard that he thinks it’s going to come off. He chokes back a watery whimper when Robotnik forces his head up off the table.

“Pain receptors and nerve endings appear to be fully functional, although I can’t say the same for your auditory processing.”

“Ow, ow ow…” The teen’s hands clench into fists as his head is held back and kept there. He doesn’t dare close his eyes, watching Robotnik like he might rip his ear off entirely the moment he stops staring.

Finally, the man releases him, and Sonic’s head hits the table with a thunk. He winces at the painful contact to his chin. 

“Ow-uh, easy on the face! We can’t all look this good naturally, c’mon.”

The doctor stands up straight without acknowledging him. “Agent Stone.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

The hedgehog is startled by the assistant’s voice coming somewhere behind Robotnik; he had no idea the guy was even there.

“Set up my recording equipment pronto. Now that the subject is awake and responding in a…semi-intelligent manner, I do believe it’s time to get information firsthand.”

“Of course sir, right away.” Agent Stone’s voice is already fading as he leaves the room. The sound of equipment being shuffled starts up distantly.

Robotnik’s gloved hand returns to Sonic’s head and he flinches, but this time the touch is light and almost examining. He rubs his thumb and forefinger on either side of the teen’s ear, then trails down to run along the fur on top of his head. Sonic realizes with no small amount of disgust that he’s being petted, like what Tom does with Ozzie.

“Hey, quit it, I’m not a dog!” He tries to pull his head away to no avail.

“Those are the first scientifically correct words you’ve said thus far,” the scientist says quietly. “Although it’s such a low bar. Honestly, I thought that hick cop babysitter of yours was the least sapient lifeform on this planet until you opened your mouth for the first time.”

Sonic bristles. “Don’t talk about him like that. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t pigeonhole you in the same category as that knuckle-dragger. You are so much more remarkable than that. A peak product of evolution. Well…physically, at least, but it isn’t so difficult to train animals.”

The hand hasn’t stopped petting him. Sonic feels a sick pit in his stomach, and it’s not just from the betraying urge to lean into the touch.

“If you think I’m going to roll over and do what you want, you’re wrong. I’ll get out of here somehow and then you’re going to regret it.”

“That’s the spirit I like to see! Makes the end result so much more satisfying when I’ve broken it.” Robotnik tilts his head to meet the teen’s anxious glare head-on. Then he half turns away to call out. “Stone! Are you finished yet, or do we need to set aside another eternity?”

“All set and ready to go, sir!” Comes the response from the other room. “The holding pen is prepped and secure as well!”

“Excellent, finally. It’s so hard to find decent human help these days.” 

He presses a few buttons on his left glove. A pair of floating egg-like robots appear and connect to Sonic’s restraints, releasing him from the table and lifting him up between them. The hedgehog tries futilely to kick out or make them drop him. Robotnik leads the way towards the other room, not giving his captive a second glance.

“Now the time for pointless chit-chat is over! Time for proper scientific observation!”

All Sonic can do is struggle as he’s carried away.

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A/N: I thought Robotnik would be really hard to characterize, but I'm having an easier time with him than expected. Maybe it's cause Sonic is the one fighting me at every turn heh. Also, remember how in the movie Sonic supposedly stopped breathing and then got revived from his powers and friendship? Yeah, me too :)

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Prologue

Chapter 2

[faulty-writes]

The Big Suneater Love Agency

Warnings: Just Fluff 

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: KiriTama (Kirishima Eijiro and Tamaki Amajiki) 

It was no surprise that Tamaki Amajiki was well known to U.A. High, having been part of The Big Three and even at the young age of 17, he was referred to as a Pro Hero. FatGum particularly enjoyed reminding Tamaki of that. But it had been a good few years since he graduated from U.A. and much like new and upcoming heroes, he wasn’t entirely sure where to start or what to do. FatGum had offered him a spot in his agency, after all, he had grown fond of the shy raven-haired boy over the course of their time together. Kirishima too, but in the end, Tamaki ended up teaming up with his dear friends Mirio and Nejire. Together they had built The Big Three Agency from the ground up, it was a hard process but they managed and as much as he hated to admit it, they were doing pretty good for themselves. 

Of course, it had been a good couple of years now. The Big Three Agency was thriving and Tamaki was grateful that most of his friends still came by to visit. FatGum always seemed to want to hang out, mostly go out to eat. Izuku came to visit Mirio and usually, Eri was there as well. But the only person that seemed to stand out from all of them was Kirishima Eijiro also known as Red Riot. Now Tamaki had worked with Kirishima under the supervision of FatGum and during that time, they had gotten to know each other on a decent level. Back then, Tamaki was still somewhat shy about being around the energic redhead. But as they continued to work together, Tamaki found himself being rather appreciative of Kirishima’s company. 

Once in a while, the redhead would drop by. Usually, he would come sturting in with his hero attire and sit on Tamaki’s desk and go on about his day and then suggest they get something to eat. On rare days, he’d come dressed in his civilian clothes and ask Tamaki about his day. But regardless of the day, Kirishima seemed to have a way to convince Tamaki to eat with him. Whether that was going out or eating something that Kiri himself brought. Hell, he even showed up on Tamaki’s birthday to give him a present. Now that surprised the raven more than anything, knowing that Kirishima even remembered his birthday. It was the little details that counted and to anyone else, it was pretty obvious what Kiri’s actions meant but Tamaki was oblivious to such matters. 

Today was one of those days, he had just gotten back from his patrol. Dressed in his hero attire, he entered the main floor of the agency and watched a few heads turn in his direction which only caused him to look to the floor. He still wasn’t used to eyes on him despite the fact he was a Pro Hero. It just didn’t seem to be something he’d get used to, he hated attention most of the time. He pressed his lips together, keeping his head down as he walked past the few people and towards the hallway that led to his office. His secretary, a young intern with a rather interesting quirk was busy at work. Currently getting Suneater’s paperwork ready as she noticed him approaching.  “Ah ...mister Suneater, uh sir!” She called, her voice low and petite. 

“Hm?” He paused in his steps and tilted his head up to look at her. “Uh, I have your paperwork, sir! And uh, mister Red Riot is waiting for you inside. I ...told him that no one is allowed in your office but he insisted and walked through. I’m so sorry!” She cried out as she bowed before the hero who immediately got flustered. “Ah n-no it’s uh, it’s okay!” He insisted, hands held up in a panic. Damn you Kirishima. “I’ll deal with h-him, don’t worry and uh ...” Suneater reached out, snatching the pile of need to be done papers from the desk. “I’ll take care of this, uh t-too.” He tried giving the girl a smile before he resumed walking and opened the door to his office. 

Sure enough, there was Kirishima sitting on top of the desk as always. Tamaki paused in the doorway, his fingers still wrapped around the doorknob as he looked at the fellow hero. The one thing that seemed off was the suit he wore since when did the redhead own a suit? Much less arrive at the Agency in one, well maybe it was for an interview or press conference. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to go through such things, so Tamaki decided to let it slide and closed the door behind him. “Hey, Tamaki! How are you, man!?” Kirishima’s joyful voice came and his features twisted with happiness as Tamaki nodded and took a seat at his desk, throwing the papers onto it without much of a care. 

Sighing, the man reached up to lower his signature hood before running his hand through his messy hair. It had grown longer since his days of U.A. and on occasion, he’d pull it back or tie it into a bun. But today, he wore it loose. Turning his attention to Kirishima, he offered a smile though it was a tad forced. “Hello, Kirishima. Um, y-you seem early today.” He noted, usually, his friend arrived after Tamaki had gotten back from patrol. “Heh, well you know ...” The redhead responded as he rubbed the back of his head, a big smile across that face that made those pointy teeth visible. Sometimes that scared Tamaki but he doubted Kirishima would actually bite him or anything. At least he hoped not. 

“I just couldn’t wait to see you I guess, even though I know you’re busy with all this hero work. You’re the man Tamaki!” A groan came from the older man, sometimes he hated how Kirishima would always compliment him. Not that he would ever voice that opinion, after all, Kirishima was an honest person. Tamaki doubted he would ever lie. “Um, t-thanks. Uh, I just have some paperwork to finish up and t-then I don’t know if you want to go out or something um ...” Tamaki curiously glanced around his desk, if Kirishima did buy something it was usually there sitting in a bag for them to enjoy together. But not this time, which only led him to believe that Kirishima wanted to go out to eat. 

“Geez man, you’re always doing paperwork and patrolling.” The red head’s tone had changed and for a moment, Tamaki was worried that he somehow made the other upset. “Uh well, I ....t-that’s the a-aftermath of a Pro Hero. You get paperwork too, uh don’t you?” He asked as he looked at Kirishima who twisted his position on the desk. “Well I mean yeah! But I don’t get half as much as you do!” Tamaki couldn’t help but chuckle, he didn’t actually think that was true. Though The Big Three Agency did take care of plenty a villain so the amount of paperwork they got was understandable. Though Tamaki, Mirio, and Nejire each handled their own paperwork.  

Tamaki shook his head, though a smile was on his face. Kirishima always managed to make him smile, even when he didn’t necessarily want to. It was wonderful to have such a great friend around. “Well, I know you're a great hero. Um, b-better get on those villains so y-you can get that extra paperwork.” He teased, something he only tended to do with close friends. It took Tamaki a long time to get comfortable enough to joke around others, his sense of humor wasn’t the best after all. Still, it seemed to work as Kirishima smiled. “Well, it wouldn’t be very manly if I let those baddies have their getaway right?” His smile only widened as he flexed in front of Tamaki, partly hoping to impress the older hero. 

“Heh ...” Though the raven noticed those muscles, his eyes quickly went to his paperwork and he reached over to grab one of the many pens that happened to be scattered across his desk. He was lucky that Kirishima didn’t end up sitting on one. However, with that hardening quirk of his, there was very little to worry about. Kirishima however, seemed a little saddened that Tamaki’s attention had shifted away from him. Making it a point to lean over the man that currently had his head ducked as he scribbled away useless words across those papers. “Mm ...” Kirishima hummed in an effort to get the other's attention, which in itself was a strange thing. Of course, he had spent time with Tamaki in U.A. and he had made it a point to keep in contact when Tamaki had graduated. 

Always put time aside to visit him and there were so many things to admire about Tamaki Amajiki. Despite the man’s obvious shy nature and social anxiety. Kirishima found himself attracted to him and all those little nervous habits he noticed. The way Tamaki could stutter or hesitate with his words, the way he'd nervously look around and how he would drum his fingers in an abnormal rhythm when he was thinking. It was oddly adorable to Kirishima and though it had taken him a while to come to terms with his feelings for Tamaki. He did and ever since he had been trying to drop hints to get the fellow hero to notice. But unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Tamaki was catching on. 

So maybe it was time to step up his game. “Tamaki!” He called, watching the raven stop and finally give him the attention he wanted. Though he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat when those innocent indigo eyes looked at him. That was another thing Kirishima grew to love, those pretty eyes. “Uh, d-did you want something K-Kirishima?” That question almost made him laugh and he reached over to snatch that pen from Tamaki’s delicate little fingers. “H-Hey!” Kirishima grinned and purposely held the pen away from Tamaki, who in turn stretched over his desk to try and get it. Sure he had more, but what was Kirishima doing and why? 

Grinning, he grasped the front of Tamaki’s collar. “Ah!”  The raven cried out when he felt those strong fingers pull him close, his feet were now pressed against the cushion of the chair he was previously sitting in. “I do want something Tamaki,” Kirishima said a playful grin across his face which caused Tamaki to panic further. “W-What do you mean?” He wasn’t too sure if he wanted the answer, but somehow he felt Kirishima would give to him regardless. “Tamaki ...have you ever wondered why I come here as often as I can? Why I invite you to lunch or dinner? Why I made such an effort to keep in contact with you even after you graduated?” The series of questions seemed to confuse Tamaki, where was all this coming from?

He felt his mouth go dry and his cheeks slowly turned rosy. Kirishima would no doubt notice, but even if he did. Tamaki hoped he wouldn’t comment on it too much. “Um, I ...well ...” He glanced to the side, unsure of what to even say, was Kirishima being serious? What was this all about? Of course, looking back on it. Tamaki had noticed the sudden interest Kiri seemed to have in him. At first, he thought it was just a simple gesture of friendship but now that he thought about it. Was it more? He never thought of Kirishima as more than a friend, but he would admit. The other was a strong hero, he was attractive and so positive it reminded him of Mirio. 

Kirishima tilted his head, Tamaki seemed to be lost in his own little world, hm well that was nothing he couldn’t fix. “Tamaki ...” He spoke the other's name sweetly and watched that perfect little head turn in his direction. “Uh, y-yeah?” The redhead smirked and leaned closer, brushing his nose against Tamaki’s which only caused that blush of his to deepen. He pushed a little further and ghosted his lips over the shy man’s, feeling how they parted to let out a gasp. For a brief moment, he wondered if Tamaki had ever been kissed or even dated anyone. Kirishima hadn’t recalled seeing him with anyone, so it was unlikely. 

He pulled away, feeling that soft tingle on his lips. Judging by how red Tamaki’s face was at the moment, it was hard to tell if he had enjoyed the small token of affection or if he was simply having a panic attack. Kirishima hoped it was the first one because panic attacks weren’t something he could deal with delicately. Yet he had no problem dealing with Bakugo’s anger issues, but that was another story. “If you didn’t already guess, well I really really like you Tamaki,” Kirishima finally confessed, which was easier than he thought it would be. But no one should be afraid to confess their feelings, it wasn’t manly. “You l-like me?” Tamaki questioned, feeling Kirishima release his collar. 

Tamaki grunted softly as he navigated his feet to the floor once again. Thank God, his legs hurt from having to balance on his chair. Though even as he stood, he ducked his head. A little too embarrassed to look at Kirishima at the moment. Though if he did, he would be able to see the redhead smirking and give a confident nod. “I wouldn’t have said or kissed you if I didn’t.” Tamaki lifted his head, blinking at Kirishima. His cheeks a soft red color and there was still that look of confusion across his face. “Uh, I-I’m sorry that I didn’t n-notice ...uh before. Your f-feelings.” Tamaki stuttered, now playing with his fingers. Another nervous habit that made Kirishima smile. 

Sliding off the desk, his feet hit the floor before he approached Tamaki. Resting a sturdy hand on the others shoulder. “Hey man! It’s okay, besides it’s kind of my fault. I should have told you earlier or like maybe even when I started to notice my feelings for you.” Kirishima smiled, though he kept his hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. Almost like he was too afraid to let go and have the other run away. “Mm ...” Tamaki shifted nervously on his feet before looking at Kirishima again. “S-So what now?” He questioned, watching as Kirishima smiled down at him. “How about I officially ask you out for dinner?” A silence filled the air before Tamaki gave his answer.

“Sure.” The paperwork could always wait for love. 

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde! Love your reviews on RWBY. My question is about Ozpin. If he survived fighting Cinder, would the events of volume 4-6 still happen? I believe the only reason team RWBYJNR treated Ozpin that way was because he was with Oscar who basically looked like a kid to them. However, if he was still in his adult body, would they have been more respectful?

Hi, anon! Thank you! I’m actually super glad you asked this. I’ve touched on how Oscar’s age and looks have impacted how others perceive Ozpin a bit in other asks, but haven’t had the chance to compose a substantial meta about it. I will attempt to fix that here! 

FYI, it’ll get decently image heavy from here on out. 

First, as a general response to the question of whether the events of Volumes 4-6 would have changed if Ozpin had survived: absolutely. If only because Ozpin as a figurehead would have still been around to lead both his inner circle and function as a symbol of strength for the rest of the world. Unless he was completely incapacitated from the fight or something (like in a coma), the expectation is that Ozpin would have begun rebuilding his school. Glynda wouldn’t have been left alone to try and deal with a frozen Wyvern attracting grimm. Ironwood wouldn’t have been left to figure out where to go from here. Qrow wouldn’t have been sent on a mission to return Ozpin’s cane. The whole world (including Atlas) may have been less likely to panic with Ozpin there to provide perspective and support. Lionheart presumably would have been less inclined to betray him, at least so soon and so overtly. An Ozpin who will reincarnate at some unknown point is a future Lionheart problem, and therefore far less intimidating. An Ozpin who still lives and commands his inner circle is way more of a threat and Lionheart would be more likely to get caught. Remember that even Salem was surprised by how quickly Ozpin reincarnated and dove back into the game—all the baddies were banking on more time. So yes, a ton would have changed. The group’s focus is now more along the lines of, “So is Ozpin going to fix things and can we go back to school?” and less, “Ozpin is dead as a door nail and no one is able to fix things for us. Might as well go hunt Cinder ourselves.” 

But onto the meat of the ask. Is the group treating Ozpin like they are at least partly because he’s in the body of a kid? That’s also a resounding ‘yes.’ Human beings, including the humans and the faunus that we write in fiction, are incredibly judgmental (for better and for worse) based on how someone else looks. If you’re able to see then you tend to prioritize that information over other aspects of a person. We create markers that we then learn and assume mean something when, much of the time, they don’t. Or, to put it another way, we create stereotypes. We can think about this in terms of gender presentation: a masculine-looking person giving orders is seen as the “boss” whereas a feminine-looking person giving orders is seen as a “bitch.” We can complicate that with race: we’re more likely to view a white woman giving orders as “assertive” when compared to a black man giving orders. That’s “aggressive.” From giving a girl long blonde hair when you want to cue people into the fact that she’s (supposedly) dumb, to making a man skinny when you want him to seem vulnerable, our media is chock-full of those markers, subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) encouraging us to read characters in particular ways. There’s a reason that Yang, the go-getter, is blonde whereas Blake, the bookworm, has black hair. There’s a reason that Cardin wasn’t designed as a twig and Jaune is a couple inches shorter than him. There’s even a reason why the sap the group collects is red rather than, say, yellow, orange, blue—literally any other color. Only red sap makes it look like Cardin is covered in blood when he attacks Jaune, thus increasing how much we read him as a threat. The characters’ designs matter. 

What does all that have to do with Ozpin? Well, at the start of the series his markers all point to authority and wisdom. He’s a white man, for one. He dresses in a formal suit. There are nods towards his age (a cane, white hair) that tell us, despite his baby face, that he’s someone who has been around a while and thus has a great deal of experience to draw on. He’s also, significantly, tall. Take a look at how his talks with Ruby read visually. 

Ruby is incredibly small compared to Ozpin. He towers above her and she’s constantly in a position of looking up to him, mirroring the ways in which she figuratively looks up to him for advice. Her mannerisms are also younger and don’t carry much confidence. Crossing her arms and sulking. Wringing her hands while asking if she’s made a mistake. The way Ruby moves contrasts Ozpin’s own very still, very composed mannerisms. Body language and facial expression is one of the primary ways that we communicate and the slightest change can carry a world of meaning. For example, compare these two shots of Yang from Volume 1 and Volume 6: 

On the surface they appear quite similar, but provided there isn’t something impacting how we read these moments (such as some people with autism), we learn that these poses mean two very different things. Two hands on your waist is a relaxed pose; one hand on your waist is an arrogant pose. At least when combined with an angry expression. One arm, the placement of her eyebrows, and suddenly Yang’s attitude towards Ozpin has radically changed. We went from casual respect to defiance, and most viewers wouldn’t need to know anything else about RWBY’s story to read that here. Her body language alone tells the story. 

Ozpin’s body language with Ruby then cues the viewer into the fact that he (supposedly) has the answers here, simply by virtue of him exuding a confidence that Ruby doesn’t possess yet. Who do you look to in a bad situation? The person screaming and running around in panic? Or the person who calmly announces that they can help, getting everyone else to calm down by keeping calm themselves? This sort of characterization is partly why the fandom grew suspicious of Ozpin early on. It’s not simply that he (on the surface) is modeled after the shady authority figure trope, but that we’ve learned from real life experience that a person’s ability to keep calm and speak eloquently doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re right. Sounding authoritative is a skill and it’s why the likes of cult leaders and dictators are so dangerous. If you just sound and look like you know what you’re doing, people have a tendency to believe you. And if you’re inclined towards critical thinking, you might be wary of the person whose demeanor is a little too polished. 

Even when Ozpin is being playful he maintains a certain level of dignity. His clothes, his physical looks, and the controlled movement of the mug—he’s not jumping around like Nora might—all remind us that Ozpin is the headmaster here and thus, though he’s making silly jokes about popcorn right now, he deserves a certain amount of respect. Even his posture speaks volumes, one arm still tucked behind his back and shoulders ramrod straight. It’s a posture that speaks of training and discipline. There’s a reason that the general (Ironwood) is always animated as standing tall with hands neatly folded and the presumably less dependable drunk (Qrow) is animated with a constantly hunched posture. How Ozpin stands is a quick and easy way to tell the viewer, “This guy is in charge. He’s powerful. He’s wise. You can rely on him.” 

All of this changes dramatically once Ozpin is thrown into Oscar’s body. Moving chronologically, it’s significant that the group is not introduced to this new Ozpin as a dignified individual. 

This is what we get later. Note the crossed legs, still good posture, even the ‘adult’ way he holds a mug. In contrast, someone younger and more childish in terms of their personality, like Ruby, tends to hold a drink with two hands and chucks it all back in a manner that would never fly at a dinner party. 

Rather than a dignified Ozpin knocking at the door, the group first encounters Oscar, someone who, like Volume 1 Ruby, can be incredibly timid and lacks in self-confidence. This isn’t the body language of a leader arriving to provide you with all the answers. 

Oscar’s slouched posture, downward gaze, wringing hands, and fearful expression all paint him as the weak one here. Made worse by the fact that he asks to see Ruby and ignites (an entirely understandable) suspicion in the group. Their first interaction is characterized by perceiving him as both a potential threat, but also one they can easily handle. We don’t like that he’s asking about Ruby, but we can take him in a fight no problem. 

And yes, this first impression makes a difference. Knowing something about someone on an intellectual level usually doesn’t trump the emotional response we have to the physical markers we’re faced with. As a non-RWBY example, let’s say you were introduced to these two characters. 

Ignoring for a moment that we’re comparing a villain and a hero, let’s say for the sake of argument that you’re told—and are provided proof—that each of these characters are morally sound, powerful adults and you should afford them with the respect they deserve. Being told that simply can’t outweigh what we see. Who are you more likely to respect? The woman who looks like a literal child named Baby Doll in a cutesy outfit, or the very old looking man in badass robes, literally named the Ancient One? All the, “But I am an adult” in the world isn’t going to convince people to read, and therefore respond to, Baby Doll in the same way they would the Ancient One. 

That’s the situation Ozpin is in now. He’s told the group that he’s Ozpin, he’s managed to prove it, but there’s always going to be a part of Ruby and the gang that doesn’t quite believe it. Not in Jaune’s literal sense of, ‘He could be lying about who he is,’ but just in a more instinctual, ‘He says he’s our headmaster, but all I see is a fourteen year old kid.’ What you see makes it really easy to ignore what you know, particularly when those two things contrast. Those markers Oscar brings to this new version of Ozpin are simply too influential and yes, that opens the door for the group to treat him with far less respect than they would in his adult form. We see it right from the start when, despite having been told that this is also Ozpin, the group coos over him in an overbearing, disrespectful manner. 

This continues even after Ozpin has taken control and is doing everything he can (those dignity markers) to regain some level of trust and respect. Even while seated and attempting to command the room as Headmaster Ozpin, Nora nevertheless undermines that with “Cute little boy Ozpin!” She has chosen to emphasize his looks over his status and notably no one listens when he says, “Please don’t call me that.”

Ozpin has, in this moment, literally been labeled as a child. A “boy.” Though we can’t be sure about what age all his hosts were when Ozpin arrived, based on Jinn’s vision it doesn’t look as if reincarnating into teenagers is common. This may even be the first time.   

Any of these past reincarnations would have been able to command more authority, simply because they’re adult men not dressed in dirty farm clothes. If this Ozpin had shown up in Haven, 

we would have gotten a very different volume. Age matters. How we perceive age matters. We saw this right in RWBY’s second episode wherein Weiss calls Ruby out on attending Beacon. 

It’s Ruby’s looks and Ruby’s looks alone that encourage Weiss to come to the conclusion, ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ The same thing has now happened to Ozpin. You look younger than us and are inhabiting a body that physically couldn’t beat us in a fight? You shouldn’t be here. You definitely shouldn’t be giving us orders. 

The group had control of Ozpin’s safe house. They were poised to interrogate him for showing up at it unannounced. Now they emphasize Oscar’s age and characteristics over his, which is ironically the only time that they emphasize Oscar’s individuality over Ozpin’s. In short, they’ve created an environment where a part of them truly believes that they’re older and more knowledgeable simply because of how Ozpin now looks, even though technically they know this isn’t true. It’s a new dynamic and with that comes the confidence to treat him like the fourteen year old stranger he “is”. I don’t believe for a moment that Yang would have ignored Ozpin’s direct questions, shot out irrational accusations, and then demanded a promise from him if he still looked the way he did at Beacon. Especially as someone who came to Haven later and therefore missed the initial proof, Yang simply doesn’t read Ozpin as Ozpin. We’ve seen how other characters interact with him from a student-teacher dynamic and it’s far more respectful. 

As this shot demonstrates, there’s also that issue of Ozpin’s size. Where as a headmaster Ozpin commanded authority by being taller than almost everyone else around him, Ozpin as Oscar immediately loses authority by being the smallest in the room. As I mentioned with Jaune and Cardin, size is an easy way to emphasize vulnerability. We quite literally couldn’t have gotten this scene if Ozpin was still 6'6" and looking twice Jaune’s age. 

In this scene Jaune honestly thinks this might be Ozpin. He’s accusing him of lying again, of claiming to leave when really he’s spying on them, or just pretending to be this kid called ‘Oscar,’ whatever. The point is that Jaune is working under the assumption that he’s interacting with his headmaster, yet that knowledge obviously doesn’t give him pause. Because Ozpin’s new look outweighs everything else Jaune knows about him. He’s angry and now suddenly Ozpin isn’t an intimidating huntsmen capable of defending himself, Ozpin is a teeny-tiny kid with no training. Jaune becomes Cardin through the realization of, “Oh. If I’m bigger and more powerful than this person, I can do whatever I want to them.” 

Ozpin’s size is an ongoing reminder that, despite possessing his own skill as well as magic, he’s in a vulnerable position. He needs to stand on the furniture in order to recreate his students literally and figuratively looking up to him, but now it just reads as a joke. 

This isn’t the first time RWBY has used size this way. Cordovin is an excellent example of how a small, non-dignified looking person is unable to maintain authority in the way someone with another appearance might. Her white hair just makes her look old rather than wise and her short stature is so extreme that it invites humor. It’s not just that Cordovin is a racist, or that her guards act like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Her appearance immediately gave the group another excuse for why they shouldn’t listen to her. Look at this tiny old woman trying to tell us what to do. Yeah right, lady. We could probably punt you into the sun so step aside.

This is a look that makes guards release prisoners in three seconds flat. 

This is a look that encourages laughter and, by extension, a lack of respect. 

The extreme camera angle in order to make Cordovin look ‘imposing.’ The fact that she looks like a literal child next to Weiss… none of it encourages the group, or the audience, to take her seriously. Rooster Teeth made a conscious decision when they decided to animate Volume 6′s “bad guy” as an old woman with sagging breasts and an extremely small stature. 

The only time when someone that small is re-characterized as authoritative is when they’re standing up against unimaginable odds. 

Ignoring that this scene in reality is Ruby refusing to take responsibility for the crimes she is currently committing, what Rooster Teen wants this shot to do is function as an example of extreme heroism. That’s accomplished by taking our second smallest character and situating her in front of a larger-than-life mech. Ruby’s refusal to back down in the face of something so much bigger than her is (again) supposed to be inspiring. She’s standing up to Cordovin’s “bullying” in a way Oscar was unable to do with his own mech: a bigger and more threatening Jaune. 

(I really cannot express how awful Volume Six was wow). 

All of which brings me to my final point. Namely that, by virtue of his age and size, Ozpin as Oscar will always look ridiculous when attempting to make use of his former markers. Using a cane? 

Headmaster Ozpin’s age and height makes it look distinguished. Ozpin at Oscar’s age and height makes it look silly. What’s the fourteen year old doing with a cane nearly as tall as he is? (Acknowledging that this is an ableist assumption. Some fourteen year olds do need canes, but most viewers are going to question this in a way they never would with the white-haired adult). What’s the kid doing with such a fancy looking cane when he’s literally covered in dirt, bandages, rags, and badly mended clothes? That’s a silly contrast. 

Headmaster Ozpin fighting? Totally badass. One of the shortest and yet most talked about fights in the show. 

Ozpin as Oscar fighting? Still badass… if you’re willing to work for it a bit more. But really, the kid swinging a cane around just will never have the same feel as a grown man who looked like Ozpin did. 

Ozpin himself is a dignified person, but anytime he adopts those mannerisms now he looks silly at best, arrogant at worst. 

I think his look is largely why so many fans read the snow scene as him talking down to the group. He no more talked down to them here then he did when he conversed with Ruby, or Pyrrha, or the team while heading off to Mountain Glenn. The only difference is that the previous Ozpin commanded all that authority, so his warnings and criticisms held weight. This Ozpin not only doesn’t look the part of an authority figure, half his time is spent being Oscar, someone who defers to and scurries around the rest of the group. So when Ozpin tries to take charge here, everyone is far less willing to listen. People are inclined to read him as arrogant, patronizing, talking down to others, etc. because it looks like a small child giving orders to a more older, more powerful team. Even though it’s not. 

It’s the combination of everything above that leads to moments like this. Where Ozpin is smaller, more vulnerable, looks too young, too naive, where the group towers over him for once and hurts him both physically and emotionally because now they can. 

Tl;dr: Yeah. Oscar’s looks and Oscar’s personality changed things irrevocably. If Ozpin had still looked like Ozpin the group wouldn’t feel half as entitled to this behavior and gaining their respect—from ‘Please don’t address me like that’ to ‘Please understand why I kept secrets’—would be far, far easier. 

[zestycompress]

Ultimate Duo! Ch. 3

sorry for forgetting to post </3 i dont do it on purpose

AO3 Link 

Giorno has never gotten his face licked before. Surprisingly, Bruno was right. He was lying about Luca’s death. But now that he thought about it, how did he realize that he had little talent? Did he practice? How many people has he licked before? When did he realize it was sweat that revealed the truth? Actually, maybe it was best that he didn’t know. Some questions are better left unanswered.

If only he was given the chance to wipe the now-dry trail of saliva off his face. Bruno summoned his Stand, it was blue and white with golden spikes and zippers. Its ability was to create zippers, which was not that much of a surprise. However, it had proven to be quite useful. Having a part of your body unzipped was a bizarre feeling. The unzipped area felt a bit numb. When Giorno stuck his hand into the opening, it felt strange. Words could not properly describe what the inside of the zipper felt like. (Would it be considered the inside of his body or the inside of the zipper?) It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but his current situation didn’t make it nice either.

Despite it being Giorno’s first time using his Stand to fight another human being, it didn’t go so bad.

But things started going downhill once Bruno escaped the funicular by using his Stand to create an opening. If he told his associates that Giorno was the one who killed Leaky-Eye Luca, he’d be in deep trouble, perhaps Kars would become a target as well. It would be unnecessary for them to go after him since he wasn’t involved with Luca’s death, but that doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t try keeping him hostage in order to bring out Giorno.

If Bruno was a Stand user, chances are that he knows others who are Stand users as well. Giorno didn’t know much about Kars, but he hoped he had some kind of way to defend himself from something he can’t see. The only ability Giorno’s aware of is that Kars can transform a part of his body into a plant, possibly other things as well, he wasn’t sure. Maybe if Giorno actually asked about Kars’s abilities, he would know what he’s capable of. Instead, he just gave him all that he knows about Gold Experience. Not a smart move.

Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about Kars, Giorno should be focusing on the present. He couldn’t let Bruno get away. If he catches him, he wouldn’t have to worry about any gangsters trying to avenge Luca by killing him.

...Too bad he managed to disappear in one of the civilians he crashed into.

Creating zippers is an unique ability, Bruno was lucky to have a Stand able to do that. There were plenty of things he could do with the power. However, Giorno didn’t want to know what kinds of things he’d do, especially to an enemy.

Giorno held a small tooth between his fingers as the civilians scattered. Using Gold Experience, he turned it into a common house fly. The little insect should lead him straight to Bruno Bucciarati.

And that it did.

The small fly landed on a civilian's shoulder. They swatted it, but the small insect seemed to refuse to leave them alone. The person smacked it with the back of their hand, soon feeling the pain reflected right back at him. Bruno was forced to reveal himself, coughing up blood as the fly transformed back into its original form, a tooth.

Giorno walked towards him, more than ready to end the fight. He was a bit disappointed to have involved innocent people in his fight, but he did what had to be done.

~~~

“It’s because you have a good soul.” Bruno stared dumbly at the blond teenager. “You’re in the mafia, but you’re decent.”

Giorno had noticed his hesitation when he saw the arm covered in scars, no doubt caused by drug use. Bruno was clearly disturbed by it, maybe even disgusted. He couldn’t blame him. There were people in this world willing to sell drugs to children without any sort of guilt. They’re causing people so young to become addicted to drugs and it sickens him. They don’t care because they’re only interested in making money. What a terrible world. Even worse, nobody makes an effort to stop it, but Giorno is going to change that.

He was going to become a mafioso, climb to the top, and overthrow the boss. He’ll take back Italy and change everything for the best, and Bruno will be joining him.

A nearby group of children played football, accidentally kicking the ball over to Bruno and hitting him with it. He turned around, not upset in the slightest, and returned their ball by kicking it back. The kids shouted thanks and resumed their game.

“Fine, I’ll report that I was unable to locate Luca’s attacker, then I’ll introduce you to begin the initiation process, but you should know,” Bruno walked closer. “If it ever gets out that you’re attempting to take down the boss, I’ll be forced to cut ties with you. A traitor stands alone on an island of isolation. Your failure will be yours and yours alone.”

Giorno thought about Kars, then turned to face Bruno. “What if I want to bring someone along? For the initiation process, I mean.”

“I suppose you could,” He responded. “I’m assuming that they have the same goals as you, right?”

He was silent, allowing a certain memory to come back to him.

“Signore Kars.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to become a Gang-Star.”

“...Don’t let anybody get in your way.”

Even if it was a small interaction, Kars seemed to be supportive - well, based on his tone of voice, it was more like he was saying “just do it already.” Closest thing to supportive - but that’s besides the point, Kars didn’t seem to care at all. He was most likely going to say no if Giorno asked if he wanted to join the mafia with him. However, if Giorno mentions how there might be other Stand users, he’d agree to it.

“...Not exactly,” The blond teen finally answered. “By the way, could we make a quick stop?”

“If you need to go pick up your friend, go. I have a few things I need to attend to. There’s this place we’re going to meet up at, don’t be late.”

~~~

Giorno could recognize Kars from anywhere, his height and long hair makes him stick out like a sore thumb. The Pillar Man turned around when he heard the young boy call out his name, quickly jogging up to him.

“Signore Kars, I must ask you something very important!” Giorno said.

He seemed a bit disinterested, but that’s just his usual expression.

“What is it?” He replied, silently taking note of how much shorter the teen is compared to him.

“I am going to be joining Passione, it’s uh, it’s a gang, basically,” It felt a bit weird speaking to Kars. Perhaps it’s the amount of pressure he feels just by making eye contact with him. His bright crimson eyes made Giorno feel weak, afraid almost. He hated staring into them, but he wasn’t going to let Kars know about his opinion on his eyes. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to join me. I believe there’ll be other Stand users there.”

The mention of Stand users sparked interest, a grin appeared on Kars’s face. “Stand users, you say? I suppose I could…”

“Well, I’ll be leading the way.”

~~~

Bruno had to use all his strength to not gawk at Kars. To be honest, he was expecting another teen, not a whole adult! Was this someone Giorno was related to? He couldn’t see any sort of similarities so it was unlikely. Maybe he was his step-father? No, Giorno would’ve probably mentioned that already.

Whether they were family or not, it wasn’t any of Bruno’s business. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“The capo who will decide both of your futures in the famiglia is a man named Polpo. By the way,” His gaze turned to Kars. “What’s your name?”

The Pillar Man glanced at Giorno, then returned his focus to Bruno. “Kars,” He said then added. “The ultimate lifeform.”

“Right…” Bruno eyed Kars as if he didn’t believe him. He pointed at the building with his thumb. “Go on now. He resides here in this building.”

“But.. but this is…” Giorno murmured. “It’s a prison.”

“That’s right, Polpo was convicted and sentenced to fifteen years in prison. He still issues orders and manages the famiglia, but he does it all within those walls. He can leave his confinement whenever the desire strikes him, but he chooses not to.” Bruno explained. He pointed at the duo. “Listen, in a matter of minutes, he’ll conduct both of your interviews. It’s imperative you pass. It’s no different from an ordinary interview. His mood will dictate its content, and remember… he cannot find out.”:

Kars had a puzzled expression, Giorno never told him about his reason for joining.

“I understand.” The blond teen replied. He gave Kars a “follow me” gesture and walked inside the prison.

~~~

“Before you head in, I’m going to need your watch and everything in your pockets on this tray. After that, you can move onto the pat-down.”

Giorno placed his bag on the tray and checked his pockets. Kars did the same, but had nothing in them. The young Stand user noticed the guards weapons, staring at them for a moment then returned to what he was doing. The gates opened and the two were allowed to pass. Kars awkwardly ducked underneath the entrance to avoid hitting his head.

“Please stand over there, hands above your head,” A guard told Giorno before turning to Kars. “It’ll be your turn in a moment, signore.”

As he goes through the body check, she gives them both directions to Polpo’s cell. The guard repeats the process with Kars and allows the two to pass. The corridor was dark and when the lights in the cell flickered on, it revealed that it was empty. Kars frowned, expecting to see a person inside. Sighing, he turned to Giorno, about to complain that he wasted his time until a voice echoed in the cell.

“It’s injured, isn’t it? Your left arm.”

What was believed to be a bed was actually a man. Not so surprisingly, it caught the duo off guard.

“I spy a faint yet distinct red marking on the fingers of your right hand that signifies you were gripping something. I’d say to the markings left behind by a bag and based on that fact, you’ve been carrying the bag exclusively in your right hand.” Polpo sat up, examining Giorno’s hand. Kars hummed, now focused on the teenager’s fingers as well. The capo had a good eye. “Now why would that be?”

“Well first of all, you’re correct. I carried my bag with my right hand, also I did injure my left arm earlier.” He replied.

Polpo laughed and opened a refrigerator next to him. “Oh, I envy your youthful body and reckless spirit. And you there,” He turned to Kars. “Your eyes, they reveal a lot about you. Despite your young appearance, it seems like you’ve been around for a long time. I wonder, do you travel?” The man grabbed a wine bottle and a glass as he spoke. Curiously, Giorno glanced up at Kars. He was tense and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“By the by, do either of you drink wine? This chianti classico is molto buono,” He popped the cork off. “And when paired with a few crackers, scamorza, and the right amount of caviar, it’s perfection.”

“We’re not allowed to give you anything,” Giorno said as Polpo poured himself a glass of wine.

“Nor can we accept things from you.” Kars finished, almost sounding harsh.

“Puh! That’s just a silly formality. What people say when watched and what they do when no one’s around,” He clicked a button on a remote which revealed his hidden items. “Are two entirely different things! Therein lies the beauty and ugliness of this fickle thing we call humanity.”

A quiet laugh almost escaped Kars when the capo mentioned “humanity.”

“I suppose the only real tragedy to being holed up in this cell is, well,” He continued to speak as Giorno began to ponder the reason why he stays in his cell.

“Bucciarati already told me all about you,” Polpo said. “So you two desire to be a part of our famiglia, do you? It was Giorno Giovanna, wasn’t it? And he never gave me a name for you…”

“I am Kars,” He responded, the man cocked an eyebrow.

“...Just Kars? Hmm, alright. Well then, if you two are ready to begin, let’s commence with the interview,” He began to bite the tips of his fingers which disturbed Giorno. He got distracted by a cuckoo clock and once he turned back, Polpo was holding a lighter.

“When you're separating the wheat from the chaff, what do you think the most important factor for one to consider? Think carefully Kars & Giovanna,”

“What a person can do, correct?” Giorno answered.

“Oh, well what can you ragazzi do?”

The teen dropped the wallet and cash he stole from one of the guards, the one who patted him down to be exact.

Polpo laughed. “Is that all you brought to impress me, Giovanna?”

“Well besides that, I have this other little trick I can do.” Giorno folded his ear into his head, making the man laugh once more. The two turned to Kars, waiting for him to do something.

He raised his arm, a blade suddenly appeared, it gleamed brightly. Giorno squinted, the light hurt his eyes a bit, but he still admired it. The blade shone beautifully. Though, it didn’t seem that impressive to Polpo.

“Hmm, but you see, there’s something very important we haven’t discussed yet…” Polpo said. “...and that is the delicate subject of trust!”

Giorno mentally sighed, expecting to go through the same conversation Leaky-Eye Luca gave him. Kars didn’t bother listening. He was a little grossed out by the fact that the man was using his pinky finger to remove some food in between his teeth. He even flicked it at Giorno who surprisingly didn’t flinch. Not even a little.

“My test will tell me exactly how trustworthy you two are,” Polpo lifted a lighter in front of them. “Concerning flame of this lighter reveals all!” Giorno moved to grab the lighter from a small opening. “Now take it in hand and go, you both are not to let the flame expire. This could be a little teamwork practice for you two.”

The flame wavered, causing Giorno to move his hand back. “Aspetta! I warn you, exercise extreme caution. The 17th century theologian Fuller once said he’s my friend that speaks well of me behind my back, you’d do well to remember those words.”

Kars rolled his eyes, not caring about a word the capo said. He walked towards the lighter as he spoke. Carefully, he grabbed the lighter, holding it as if it was a delicate flower. The Pillar Man allowed Giorno to hold onto it. The expression on his face clearly said “Don’t you dare mess this up!”

“You have twenty-four hours, I look forward to our second meeting tomorrow, 3:00 PM. Don’t be late.”

Giorno could feel himself sweating a bit. He was starting to get rather anxious. This was the only chance he has and he couldn’t mess it up.

“ALL VISITORS MUST PROCEED THROUGH THE GATE FOR A FINAL PAT-DOWN.”

...That voice didn’t help.

~~~

A guard pointed his gun at Giorno as the young boy racked his brain for ideas that could get him out of this situation. Kars leaned down and whispered, “We could kill them and leave, can’t we? You just got the damn lighter, there’s no way that we’re failing this early…”

Giorno shook his head. “No, I think I got this.”

He lifted his arms above his head, feeling the flame burn his skin. Kars could see and smell the smoke, it wasn’t pleasant. The female guard patted him down, telling him he was free to go before grabbing his wrist. She reminded him that accepting anything from Polpo was prohibited. Kars frowned, preparing himself to slice her head off with his brilliant bone blade once she found the lighter.

A flower.

Instead of a lighter, it was a flower.

It caught Kars a bit off guard, but that’s something he wouldn’t admit out loud. The guard wasn’t expecting that either, but she allowed Giorno to keep it. The blond teen looked back at the Pillar Man. He could’ve sworn he saw a small smile on his lips. The woman urged him to keep moving. Giorno collected all his things and left, waiting for Kars outside the prison. The flower transformed back into a lighter.

Walking back to his room with Kars following behind him was… sort of weird. It was clear he was an adult and students stared at him. With just one glare, they turn away and move faster. Kars could be so effortlessly intimidating. A gust of wind almost blew the flame out. The Pillar Man transformed his right arm into a wing, using it to shield the flame.

“Here, give it to me,” Giorno handed the lighter over to Kars, making it easier for the man to protect the flame. The two ignored a group of students who called out to them to take some photo for them. Soon, Kars’s arm returned to normal as they entered the building.

The blond teen carefully held the lighter once Kars returned it to him. He grabbed a piece of bread, took a bite out of it, and shoved the object into it. He felt the Pillar Man’s eyes boring into him, definitely judging him for his action. Giorno rearranged the objects on his desk to protect the flame.

“I think it should be fine, a little draft shouldn’t be enough to blow it out,” He moved to lock the window. “By the way, signore Kars-”

Before he could finish speaking, he noticed someone opening his door, he quickly mouths “hide” to Kars. Giorno hides outside his window as Kars shapeshifts his body to hide in the cupboards. It was pretty bizarre to watch.

The Japanese tourist, Koichi Hirose, entered the room. He was searching for his passport. Giorno watched helplessly as he looked through his closet and opened his drawers. Using Gold Experience, Giorno transforms a lamp cord into a snake. The animal bit the bread, moving it up and out of Koichi’s reach. Unfortunately, the flame burned its skin and forced it to drop the bread. Now it's been noticed.

Luckily, Koichi was focused on his passport which gave Giorno time to get back the lighter. The distraction also gave Kars time to get out of the cabinets.

To be honest, Giorno wanted to question Kars ability. He has the ability to shapeshift. He could turn his arm into a bird’s wing and flatten his body to get through the small spaces in his cabinet.

“Just missed you there, sorry about that!” The old janitor began rambling about something silly. Giorno stared down at his wet hands… and the wet lighter. The flame was extinguished.

Despite being behind him, the teen could feel the ungodly amount of rage radiating off of Kars. The Pillar Man was making low, almost demonic growling. He muttered curses and glared at the old man. It took a whole lot of willpower not to kill him right then and there.The janitor reignites the lighter and hands it back to Giorno.

Both Giorno and Kars could tell something was off, but neither of them knew what it was.

Suddenly, the blond teen sees something walking by and disappearing behind a column.

“Kars… I think I saw…”

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO REIGNITED THE FLAME!”

Giorno was able to hear the voice, but Kars couldn’t.

“I OFFER TWO PATHS, BUT YOU MUST PICK THE ONE THAT WILL LEAD TO SALVATION!” Turning around, Giorno sees the Stand grabbing onto the poor janitor’s soul. “TIME TO CHOOSE, DO YOU LIVE ON AND BECOME ONE OF THE CHOSEN OR DO YOU PROCEED ALONG THE PATH OF DEATH?”

An arrow appeared from its mouth which Kars was able to see. Giorno felt pain when he saw the man's soul, his expression showed how terrified he was. He wanted to do something, but there wasn’t a thing he could do. The arrow went through his head. When nothing happened, the Stand threw his body back and Giorno caught it.

The first thing noticed is how there was no wound, yet he was only a corpse. He moved back while Kars stayed in place. The Pillar Man glanced at Giorno, silently asking if the Stand had moved yet.

Before he could make any response, the Stand dashed towards him, probably to pull out his soul and pierce him with the arrow as well.

Looks like someone has gotten into another unwanted Stand battle.

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Who are We but Fragments of Each Other? {1/?}

Series Summary: Being the princess of a small, barely heard of country shouldn’t be too hard right? Other than the worry of being assassinated, what else is there to it? Just a brooding agent sworn to look after you day in and day out. 

Warnings: swearing (Always swearing), violence, slow burn, mediocre writing if we’re being honest here, slow updates (and that’s a fact!) 

A/N: Hello friends! Please bare with me as I continue on in my journey of writing a decently sized, decently written, fic on tumblr. If any of you have suggestions, ideas, helpful words of encouragement, a nice picture of a cat to help in my impending sadness, other prompts or drabbles, please don't be afraid to pop into my asks! 

Here we goooooooo~

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

The office air was cool and still, it had been for a solid moment before a heavy sigh broke the silence, “Tony, we aren’t mercenaries. We don’t get paid to fight-”

“You aren’t getting paid to fight. You’re getting paid to protect a royal family who’s under attack from an unknown group of people who want to do whatever foreign attackers do,” Tony’s voice is just as cool as the temperature of the room, almost bored, as he justifies the reasoning for Natasha Romanoff’s next mission.

“How long are we gonna be there?” a deep, quiet voice sounds from the other side of the room.

Bucky Barnes was also put on protecting said royal family, he wasn’t excited.

“You both will be there for however long it takes you to find the people that attacked the family. You need to understand that, even though technically the entire family is in danger,” Tony speaks slowly as he pulls up a number of documents and pictures to display on the large screen in the small office, “There seems to be a targeted member, specifically Princess Y/n L/n. She’s next in line for the throne and was the main victim when this whole fiasco started,”

Bucky let out an audible sigh and pushed off the floor to ceiling bookshelf he was leaning against, “If this is a royal family, why don’t they just get their own military or guards to protect them?”

“Good question terminator,” Tony smirks, jabbing a finger in Bucky’s direction for emphasis, “Unfortunately, her guards were part of the attack, so this is an inside job, and you both need to be extremely careful with who you trust in to tell info to. I’m sending a few other agents with you so you won’t have to be everywhere at once but, just be careful. I’ll send both of you the full report and briefing file, your flight leaves tomorrow, blah blah blah please get out of my office so I can sleep.”

“Someone’s a little grumpy today,” Nat mumbles as she heads for the door, Bucky right on her heels.

“Morgan has a fever and I stayed up with her all night while she puked up about five pounds of dino nuggets,” The tired father grumbles back, fingers digging into his temples to relieve however much pressure possible.

The sound of Natasha’s chuckles fade as her and the burly soldier make their way out of Tony’s office, leaving him to nap away his exhaustion. 

========================

The cold was awful, long lasting and sinking deeper into your bones with every second that passed. You hated the winter. It didn’t matter the amount of layers you put on. As you stared at yourself in the mirror, your eyes matched the temperature of your skin, cold, almost lifeless. The gown that hung from your shoulders did little to keep what futile body heat you had, the itchy material adding to your discomfort.

“Princess, are you ready?” The gentle voice of a maid startled you out of the intruding thoughts.

“Yes,” 

You weren’t. You weren’t ready to allow a group of strangers to protect you. If you couldn’t trust your own guards, your own people, how could you let these outsiders into your home?

“They’ve arrived and your grandmother requests you come as quickly as possible,” Her tone was filled with pity, pity for you. 

“I’ll be right down, thank you. You may leave,” Your voice (thankfully) didn’t waiver as you dismissed the woman from your room.

When did this become your reality? Why were you being hunted for something you couldn’t control? You didn’t want this. You didn’t want the responsibility of ruling a country. You couldn’t handle the stress that came with it. As much as you hated to admit it, you were too soft, too fragile. The council was right, especially after the events that had taken place a fortnight ago. 

The sound of a car door slamming shut woke you from yet another failure to control your thoughts. A quiet sigh left your lips as you make your way to the main foyer. Your heart is hammering violently against your chest, there was a strange ache in your bones that went along with the ice. It didn’t take you very long to reach the entrance hall as you knew plenty of shortcuts to take. You spotted your grandmother standing patiently in the middle of the room, your sister and main advisor at her side. 

As you approach, she gives you a kind smile and holds her hand out for you to take, “Góðan daginn ducky, you look lovely” 

The nickname makes your heart warm, a tiny flame in the freezing cold that resides in you. “Góðan daginn Oma,” You take her hand in yours, the action provides little comfort as the doors to the castle open and a chilly breeze enters along with a group of rigid looking soldiers. 

Your frame is tense and a metaphorical wall seems to apparate around you. Your grandmother made a move to welcome the guests- no the intruders, into your home. 

“Agent Romanoff, Agent Barnes, thank you so much for agreeing to help us,” her accent was thick and you had a quick moment of wonder for whether or not they would understand her clearly. 

“Truly it’s no problem Princess Alda ,” The woman replied, bowing lightly in respect. 

Princess... The title left a sour taste in your mouth. Your grandmother was a queen, the most accomplished ruler in your countries history. She deserved more than just princess. 

“These are my lovely granddaughters, Princess Y/n and her younger sister Princess Freyja. They are very grateful of you to be here for us,” She smiles up at the two agents leading the pack, her eyes shining with glee. 

Your grandmother was too hopeful for her own good. 

“velkominn, thank you so much for coming,” Your sister jumps into action, Freyja was always too excited to meet others, the confines of the castle always making her anxious, just like you. 

Agent Romanoff greets her softly, bending down to her height and offering a hand to shake, Agent Barnes decides to stay silent and only responds with a small nod. You decide to stay stoic, silent as the two heads stare at you expectantly. There is an awkward moment of stillness before your Oma glares at you and you have no other choice but to dip down into a curtsy. 

“Thank you for coming,” You mutter, wasting no time in standing back up straight, head held high. 

Again, the woman is the only one to properly respond to your actions, and you can’t help but shoot a quick glance at the man. 

How rude. 

“We should start discussing the arrangements, if you don’t mind Princess Alda,” Agent Romanoff speaks, her tone even and professional. 

“Just Alda is fine, miss Romanoff,” Your grandmother nods and gestures for the group to follow her, “This way my dears,” 

The study in which the meeting takes place wasn’t exactly built for this many people. It was small and old just like the rest of the castle, and completely incapable of comfortably holding the group of twelve that now crowd into it. Your grandmother, sister, and self stand behind the desk as the others gather before it. Agent Romanoff takes it upon herself to be the first to sit, manners be damned. 

“Agent Barnes and I have read over and discussed the situation thoroughly,” she begins as your grandmother also sits, you and your sister remain standing, “We understand that you believe your family is under attack, is that correct?” 

Your grandmother nods silently, miss Romanoff takes that as a sign to continue, “We’ve been hired to protect your family, which is a reasonable request, but we noticed when looking over the report and evidence, that the attack was focused on the eldest princess,” 

You immediately notice the shift in the room, feel your Oma tense at the confession, hear the gasp that left your sisters mouth, “Haddi, take Freyja to her room,” You speak before you can stop yourself, your voice comes out stern and you notice a light waver. 

“But Y/n-” “Now!” You cut off the younger princess and the advisor makes a quick move to usher her out of the room, “How dare you say such a thing in front of a child,” you bite. 

“I was just trying to explain to you the situation-” your eyes narrow at her words as you interrupt once again, “Explain to me the situation? I was there. I know the situation. What is important is how we’re going to stop it from happening again,” 

“Princess, I understand your stress-” “You seem to understand nothing Agent Romanoff,” You spit out in frustration. 

This woman... Thinking she knows what you’re feeling. Ridiculous. 

“That’s enough ducky. Let the woman talk, girl.” Oma’s voice is stern, the tone she only uses before you go too far with your words.

Agent Romanoff continues to go over the situation, what precautions her team, as well as the family, will have to take. Much to your grandmother's dismay, one of those precautions was making the entirety of the castles staff go on leave.

“They can’t be trusted due to the men who carried out the attack,” she says.

 She talks about the possible suspects and the possible reasonings for their actions (though you thought it was quite obvious). You wait patiently for the discussion to end, biting your tongue at every word the woman said. You were holding on by a thread and it was quickly fraying away with each passing moment. A few of the other agents decided to busy themselves with looking around the room, gently picking up random objects to inspect them before putting them back down in their original places. It made you nervous, especially when one agent decided to pick up a vase that was from some old chinese dynasty that you couldn’t exactly remember, though you knew it costed more than a few college tuitions worth, and almost dropped it before catching it clumsily and hurriedly put it back on its pedestal. 

“We’ll be looking after the princess ourselves, ensuring she’s safe at all times, our other agents will be securing the property-”

 “You need to assign someone to Freyja and my Oma,” You say vehemently, your eyes focusing on the two agents in front of you, “I may be the supposed target but they are my family and they need to be just as safe as I am,” 

Agent Romanoff stays silent, her eyes failing to show any emotion as she stared at your equally hard gaze, “Unfortunately princess, Barnes and I are specifically assigned to you.” 

“I don’t care. Change the assignment, You need to protect them,” Your blood was boiling, the thought of these people coming in and not even thinking about protecting your little sister and grandmother was ridiculous. 

The fiery haired woman sighed quietly and looked up at you with pursed lips, “I understand where you’re coming from, but we can’t leave you unattended. That being said,” she pauses and glances at her silent partner, “I think that Agent Barnes may be able to look after your sister, and one of our other agents could ensure the safety of your grandmother,” 

You mulled over the solution for a moment. Agent Barnes had said nothing this entire time and it honestly gave you an extremely uneasy feeling, you didn’t trust him with your little sister. He was too menacing for you to comfortably allow him to watch over the young girl who was known for how carefree she was. 

“I would be more comfortable if you were to look after her, Agent Romanoff,” your voice came out quieter this time, “please,”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” 

Before Agent Romanoff has time to speak, Agent Barnes beats her to the punch. The brunette broke his silence as he stood up from the plush cushions of the chair, his startling blue eyes roamed over his environment before landing on you. “I’ll look after you and Natasha will look after the others, no harm will come to the residence of this castle,” he spoke precisely, almost like he had rehearsed before he decided to speak, “Everyone clear out and start searching the grounds for anything out of the ordinary, bugs, cameras that aren’t listed... anything,” his gruff voice sent your hairs to stand on end and your whole body tensed in stress before relaxing with the meaning of his words. 

“Thank you, Agent Barnes,” you murmur quietly, your gaze only strong enough to hold a moment with the tall man across from you. 

The agent only spared you a quick nod before turning to you grandmother, “Back to the previous topic, we don’t know who’s behind this, therefore, the safest route of action is to put all castle staff on a momentary leave until we can figure out who did this,”

Her crinkled eyes widen in slight shock, “Don’t you think that might be a little excessive?” 

“Unfortunately no, at this point in time, there’s no telling who could have attacked the princess,” There was a silent pause as the room grew quiet between its four inhabitants. 

There was an uneasy buzz that krept its way up your back, the muscles tweaking and flexing as you ignored the incessant need to scratch the buzz away. You knew it wouldn’t be a good idea as the stitches still hadn’t healed fully and it would hurt like a bitch if you did. 

“Oma, we’ll be fine. The staff deserve a vacation,” you comment, lightly placing your hand on the delicate material of her dress. “I’m sure you can handle brewing your own tea for a bit,” 

The elder smiles fondly towards you and gives a small nod of agreement, “If that’s all agents, I’d like to get back to work,”

The two remaining outsiders award her quick farewells and leave the room. Before you get to the door to leave your grandmother alone to her own devices, the demure tone of her voice stops you, “Ducky, my love, please be respectful to those agents while they’re here. You know in that stubborn head of yours it’s for the best,” 

Your chest tightens in annoyance at her words, the feeling only growing stronger as you realize the truth behind them, “Yes Oma, I know,” 

“Good. Now, please go busy yourself and try not to pester than nice man too much,” she sings over her shoulder as she looks out the window, giving you a view of the young and jovial queen that still resides somewhere inside her.

You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips as you opened the door and exited the study. Leaning up against the outer wall, you sigh quietly, taking a moment to gather yourself and think of all that has happened in just the span of a few hours. Once your thoughts were a little more calm, you gathered yourself and began the journey back up to your room. You truly just wanted to sleep at this point. 

A familiar shiver runs up the curve of your spine as a menacing shadow encases your smaller frame and a deep baritone covers the weak gasp that left you.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

[samporterbbridges]

Ok, here’s a question/prompt for you, when do you think higgs fell in love with sam? And when did Sam fall for higgs?

Uhhhh okay so this is super long and I really need to stop doing this and just respond to asks normally. But yeah I’ve been thinking about this response all day, and I’m not even home yet to properly edit this so yeah this is what my brain threw up ((I’m so sorry Anon this probably doesn’t even make sense and it’s a little more than what you even asked for)):

It definitely takes a really long time till they actually fall in love tbh

I have another post from a while ago (I think it was another ask), talking about how Higgs has to basically redeem himself, and one way to start is that he’s helping Sam with deliveries, so they’re together a lot for a really long period of time.

It starts out pretty slowly for them to even get on good terms, Sam doesn’t even speak to him much in the beginning, but Higgs, of course, never stops talking. He’s still an asshole in the beginning, always trying to push Sams buttons, but Sam is patient, and he’s too smart to fall for those games anymore.

It’s probably Higgs who falls first. It wasn’t intentional, of course, he does think Sam is attractive, but that was all that was there at first, but then, then Sam is just...so decent, and kind, to him of all people. Higgs isn’t used to stuff like that from other people.

Sam, who absolutely hates touch, reaches out and grabs his arm to steady him as they’re walking down a pretty steep hill and Higgs looses his balance.

Sam, who has no obligation to him, constantly checks on how he’s doing. Need a drink? Want to stop for a bit?

Honestly it’s just because Sams not used to having a constant companion other than BB, so he’s not really used to having to make sure someone else is keeping on with him on missions. Sure, there’s escort missions, but those are different, this is an entirely separate person with his own amount of cargo.

Sam’s kind of irritated having Higgs there at first, and he’s not any bit comfortable being around him, he doesn’t sleep when taking rests between deliveries for a really long time in the beginning. He never lets Higgs out of his sight either. But god does he wish he’d shut up.

Though he will admit it’s not always so bad having someone else around, someone who can help him carry the weight of several packages for once. He doesn’t miss the days of carrying over 50kg on his back that’s for sure. And sometimes, only SOMETIMES, and don’t ever tell him he said this, Higgs can be funny. Sams not alone with just BB and his depression thoughts anymore.

God okay what was the question again? Oh yeah the moment they both fell. ((Can I ever just answer something without going into a long ass multi paragraph rant?))

So Higgs is the first to realize what’s going on, they’ve been working together for a pretty long time at this point, and it’s a bit of an understatement to say they’ve grown close during this time. They’re both fond of each other yes, but neither of them really figured out what they really feel until this moment.

They’ve got a very heavy and very important delivery from Capital knot, all the way to Port Knot. It’s a pretty long trip, and Sams getting tired, he won’t say anything but Higgs can see it. They’re in the mountains when some heavy time fall hits. BBs immediately getting scared, of course, because Sams getting stressed, he’s stressed, carrying over 30kg on his back, he’s tired, and now they’re surrounded by BTs in the mountains. They have a pretty close call, and it ends with them loosing a lot of cargo, because once it gets bad, and it gets bad, Sam fell over, and was having trouble getting away with all the cargo, Higgs just grabs Sam and hauls him out of there as fast as he can.

Sams pissed, asking him “why the hell did you do that?! We lost the cargo! What were you thinking?!”

Higgs then realizes it there.

He was terrified at the mere thought of Sam getting hurt. Something that’s absolutely silly to worry about given that Sam can’t even die, but still it’s something that upsets him to think about. Sam even yells at him for it “I’ve been through this before! I’ve dealt with BTs on my own, I’ve even fallen off of cliffs out here on my own before. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can’t come back. So dont bother worrying about it”

“I just....I couldn’t see you get hurt...”

“I just told you! I would’ve been fine I’m used to it. So why do you-“

“Because! I-“

Oh.

OH.

Not only does Higgs figure it out in that moment, but Sam also reads between the lines too.

Higgs loves him. It’s a lot to process. For both of them.

Higgs is having an entire crisis. He doesn’t even really understand what it means to love someone. This doesn’t feel like the love he’s ever known. He doesn’t want to hurt Sam. He never wants Sam to hurt ever again. But know it’s weird, and Sam hasn’t said anything, and now Higgs thoughts are racing. Why would sam ever feel anything like that for him?

Does Sam love him back though?

Sam thinks about this all night. He can’t even look at Higgs for the rest of the day. He feels bad, he’s not upset with him, but he’s just not sure what to say.

It’s been a really long time since he’s loved someone like THAT. Not since her.

He’s his friend, yeah. Of course he cares about him. And he feels horrible for getting mad at him, especially now that he knows what Higgs is feeling. He’s probably hurt him, just storming off to his private room without even looking back at Higgs. Shit he’s really fucked this up huh.

He’s not sure how he feels though. They’ve been through a lot together, but he’s never really thought about having romantic feelings about anybody.

He has to sleep on it.

And when he wakes up he full on panics.

Higgs isn’t there.

They let Sam know that he just took off and left early this morning.

“Figures. We always knew he’d leave eventually. It was pointless to think he really wanted to help.”

And it hurts Sam to even hear that. Would Higgs really just leave.

He feels such a heavy pressure in his chest, like his heart was dying inside of him.

It’s not even just the thought of Higgs betraying him and leaving, but even just the idea that he was gone for good, never to see him again. No more trips together, no more stupid comments from him, no more Higgs.

Oh god...is this what he was feeling yesterday? Is this why he saved him?

Sams trying not to cry. If he cries, BB will cry. He has to stay calm, figure out what to do next.

Maybe he does love him. Or maybe he’s just scared of loosing someone he’s grown so close to. So used to having him around. A constant in his life.

No, Higgs wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave Sam.

Higgs didn’t leave.

He looked like he was just about to fall over, packages stacked on his back as he staggered into to building.

Sam just stands there staring at him, so many words bubbling within him, too many emotions ready to spill out all at once.

Higgs tries to keep up his confident mask, thinking of a witty remark to make as he smiles that oh so charming smile of his, but he’s still a little unsure of how Sam feels about him now, now that they both know. So there’s no point in pretending that he didn’t just hike back up the mountains to go and retrieve a whole bunch of cargo just for Sam. Because he loves Sam, and he doesn’t want Sam to be mad at him. He’s sure Sam already knows this.

“I uh...I got them all back.” He says as he’s putting some of the heavy boxes down, laughing a little awkwardly as he’s waiting for Sam to say something.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but it’s definitely not Sam walking over to him, and putting a hand on his shoulder, something that’s probably a lot for him to do.

“I’m sorry for uh, yelling at you yesterday.”

Higgs wants to wrap his arms around him, he wants to be close, but he doesn’t. His face heats up and he’s almost pretty sure Sam can feel how fast his art is beating.

“It’s fine. Really. I’m uh...sorry for yesterday too. I didn’t uh, I mean I really shouldn’t have-“

“Are you trying to apologize for being in love with me?”

“Should I?”

“No. I don’t think I want you to ever apologize for that.”

“Are you sure? Cause once you accept this package there’s no returning me.”

“What”

‘Oh god I might actually be in love with this big idiot.....’

[kagehinataboke]

only time will tell - chapter 1

"Flight one-twenty-seven direct to Hosu City now boarding. First-class passengers, please proceed to the gate."

Todoroki collects his luggage to board the plane, making sure his surgical mask and sunglasses are secure. This is only one of the many things he resents about his father: he forced him into modeling, so now he has to wear ridiculous disguises like this everywhere he goes. Of course, his father is dead now, but the grudge still remains.

A lot of grudges, actually. Todoroki could go on about them all, but it’s four in the morning and he’s getting on a flight home, where he has about a million problems to worry about other than his deceased father’s wrongdoings. So he hands over his boarding pass, falls into his assigned seat, and tries not to think of the mess waiting for him in Hosu.

What he’s most worried about is Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki, to be specific. His childhood friend. The one he left behind ten years ago without saying a word. Although, of course, that’s his dad’s fault, too. But no matter whose fault it is, Katsuki will be angry. He has—had?—a short temper. It’s been too long to really know what he’s like now. They couldn’t even keep in touch.

Maybe he’ll understand. After all, Todoroki was dragged away. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to have time to hug goodbye and exchange contact information, but he was only six and didn’t have a say in what happened to him. Maybe, with that in mind, Katsuki will understand. And if he doesn’t, Todoroki will cross that bridge when he comes to it. In the meantime, he has about a million texts and emails to respond to: most from his agent, but a decent amount from his sister.

Todoroki texts her back first. She’s the one who will be picking him up at the airport, so it’s probably best not to make her angry. She’s just spamming him with typical sisterly concerns, such as making sure to sleep on the flight and eat some breakfast before landing. Todoroki probably won’t do either of those things, but he tells her he will anyway.

As for his agent, she’s been overbooking him lately. She wants him to branch out from modeling into acting, which he’s had to refuse about a million times. Todoroki is bad at acting, and the last thing he wants is to be further in the spotlight. He’s looking forward to being out of it entirely—if he manages to build up the courage to quit, that is.

Todoroki puts his phone away with a sigh, tilting his head back against the seat. He pulls his sweatshirt hood over his face and closes his eyes. He should try to sleep at least a little. He had to wake up early to catch the flight, and he didn’t sleep very much before that due to nightmares. He’s been having them a lot recently.

Getting away from Tokyo will probably help. If he’s no longer surrounded by old memories, it’ll be easier to move on. As soon as he quits modeling. Damn, he really needs to do that soon… If he gets one more call from his agent begging him to shoot a TV drama, he’ll lose his mind. In Hosu he can return to his old, simple life.

Return to his old life… That just makes him think of Katsuki again. Will he even remember him? It’s been ten years since they last spoke. He’s the one regret Todoroki has, other than wasting most of his childhood on modeling. One of the first things he wants to do when he gets to Hosu is make amends with him.

Ah, he’s supposed to be sleeping. It’s useful to plan ahead right now: the plane hasn’t even taken off yet.

* * * * * *

“Shouto, I told to sleep on the plane so you wouldn’t be sleepy at seven AM.” is the first thing Fuyumi says when she sees him. The second—after pulling him into a brief hug—is, “You look so skinny. You ignored me and didn’t eat, didn’t you?”

“I ate,” Todoroki lies, rubbing the sleep from his eyes so she stops scolding him. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder, pulling his allergy mask up to conceal a yawn.

“Where’s the rest of your bags?” Fuyumi asks, peering around him as if there’ll be a suitcase hiding in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I only brought this. I was in a hurry to leave.” Todoroki flinches when she rears back a fist to punch him. “Don’t hit me. I can just buy new clothes here. We’re rich, Fuyumi.”

“You’re so spoiled.” Fuyumi prods him in the small of his back, pushing him toward the automatic doors. “Come on. Natsuo is waiting for you back at the house.”

“Touya?” Todoroki asks through another, louder yawn. He’s never been good at waking up.

“Who knows what he’s doing.” She opens her car door and slides into the driver’s seat with a scoff. “Natsuo worked a double at the hospital and still came to greet you. If I were to wager a guess, I’d say Touya is still off celebrating Dad’s death in Okinawa.”

Todoroki sighs. “Don’t say it that way, Fuyumi.”

It’s true: he can’t deny that. They all hated their father, Todoroki and Touya most of all. Still, phrasing it that way is insensitive. Not that Todoroki really cares, but it’s too early in the morning to be reliving all his old childhood trauma.

Fuyumi pulls out of the airport parking lot and glances at Todoroki out of the corner of her eye. “How are you holding up, Shou?”

The question holds a lot of implied subquestions, none of which Todoroki feels like answering. Fuyumi knows how Enji treated him: all his siblings do. As the youngest, Todoroki was the last one left when Natsuo moved out. It wasn’t his siblings’ fault, of course. Enji was Todoroki’s legal guardian, and nobody could’ve done anything to get him out of that house. But nobody can do anything to get him to talk about it, either.

As far as Todoroki is concerned, that’s all in the past. Everything that happened in Tokyo is now ancient history. He’s ready to move on, which largely involves lying to everyone who cares about him.

“I’m doing fine. I’m just tired. There was a lot of turbulence on the flight.” He can’t tell her about the nightmares or she’ll get even more worried. “How are things with the company?”

After Enji died, his marketing company fell into the oldest, Touya’s, hands. And since Touya is a lazy piece of garbage, it quickly fell to Fuyumi. She’s been working herself to the bone trying to learn the ropes. Even Natsuo, who’s a notorious airhead, is concerned for her wellbeing.

Fuyumi sighs, developing a wrinkle between her brows that appears whenever she’s stressed. “It could be better, but it could also be worse. I’m handling things, but there’s a lot to do. I probably won’t be home much, as much as I wanted to help you settle in for you first week back at school.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it on my own.” Todoroki taps his fingers against the window as half-familiar streets zip past. He hasn’t been to Hosu in years, but it’s where he grew up. Will he start to remember it little by little? Natsuo said that’s what it was like for him.

“You seem so much more reserved than when I last saw you. How long ago was that? New Years?” Fuyumi shakes her head, letting out a gentle scoff of indignation. “If Dad wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him myself. If you need anything at all, ever, just let me know, okay?”

It’s her way of apologizing for not helping him. Todoroki appreciates the sentiment, as worthless as it is. “I will.” He looks out the window again, changing the subject. “Do you know if Katsuki is still here in Hosu?”

“Katsuki?” Fuyumi frowns. “You mean your old friend, right? The one that you were always stuck to like glue.” She’s smiling now. “I think he’s still around. I see his mom at the store sometimes. I didn’t know you two were still close.”

“We’re not.” Todoroki rests his chin in his palm, watching his reflection in the glass. “But we will be. I’m going to try to find him and make friends again.” Todoroki smiles faintly. “He was really energetic when we were kids. I wonder what he’s like now.”

Fuyumi shrugs. “Who knows.” She puts the car in park and turns it off, reaching over to unbuckle Todoroki’s seatbelt. “We’re here, little brother. Let’s go see if that idiot Natsuo has started huffing helium from your welcome balloons yet.”

* * * * * *

After Fuyumi kicks Natsuo out following a rather exhausting dinner, Todoroki is relieved to retreat to the room Fuyumi set up for him. It was her office before, but she told him that she basically lives at work now and doesn’t need it anymore. Todoroki told her he could easily afford his own place, but she wouldn’t have it.

She set it up minimalistically, at least. She told him he could decorate it however he wants, but he’ll probably leave it as it is. He doesn’t have many keepsakes or prized possessions to personalize the space. Fuyumi did put a photo album on the bed, though.

Todoroki picks it up after setting his bag in the closet, sitting on the mattress to skim through the photos. Most of them are him and his siblings, sitting around the tree at Christmas, throwing snowballs at each other, and playing tag in the park.

Pictures of he and Katsuki are mixed in with the ones of Todoroki and his siblings. Fuyumi was right: they were glued to each other as kids. Todoroki followed him around everywhere. To him, Katsuki seemed amazing, like a superhero. He wasn’t afraid of anything—not even the thunder that would leave Todoroki shaking during the rainy season. Katsuki was invincible. An immovable force.

What is he like now? Is he the same loud, outspoken, caring person Todoroki used to look up to? He’s probably changed. Over the course of ten years, it would be very hard not to. Even if he’s different, Todoroki hopes they’ll still get along. He hasn’t had a friend in a long time. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like.

To be fair, he’s forgotten a lot of things. For instance, he’s forgotten how to be happy. He can’t recall doing anything fun in… Well, he can’t recall doing anything fun, period. As sad as it sounds, Todoroki has forgotten how to live.

But that’s why he’s here, isn’t it? He’s free to do as he pleases. He can spend the whole weekend doing nothing. He can have friends and go to school and go to an arcade and waste the day whenever he wants to. It’s a little strange to think about, almost like culture shock.

Todoroki takes a picture from the photo album and collapses on the bed, holding it up to the morning light that streams through the far window. He remembers the day this was taken. It was late autumn, so he and Katsuki are bundled up in coats and scarves. Katsuki has tackled him in a headlock, and Todoroki’s eyes are screwed shut, face caught in the middle of laughter.

It’s really weird. He hasn’t seen this picture or thought of this memory in years, but it’s suddenly as vivid as if it only happened yesterday. This is the type of memory he wants. Being in Hosu is already making him happier, and it’s been less than four hours. Tomorrow, he can start school on a high note.

Not that he’s excited for school. He isn’t. What sixteen-year-old in their right mind would be? But he is excited at the prospect of seeing what a real high school is like. He’s been doing online school since he was twelve, so it’ll be interesting to be in an actual classroom.

Maybe Katsuki will also be going to his high school. That would be lucky, wouldn’t it? Then Todoroki won’t have to go through the trouble of tracking him down, and he’ll already have a friend.

“Shouto, I have to run to the office,” Fuyumi calls from down the hall. “There’s food in the fridge, so don’t skip dinner!”

Todoroki ignores her, waiting until the front door slams to go and unpack his duffel bag. He really didn’t bring enough clothes. He’ll have to order some online if he plans to go anywhere this week. He’ll have his school uniform, at least. It was waiting on his dresser when he walked in.

A school uniform… Todoroki feels more like a normal teenager already.

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