#imagine if japan did a clean sweep

[shoomsuno]

shoma, kaori, and miura/kihara taking the gold at worlds 2023 i manifested this 

[sweethartlullaby]

you, among the art vii

word count: 1151 genre/theme: fluff and angst later, sculpting series, graduate student and her professor/supervisor, female and male pairing as always, imagine whoever you would like... find part viii here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

Her bedsheets feel softer than usual. And when she sits up, her room looks different. She only realizes why when she goes out and sees the familiar wall of awards. Her head is pounding with every step she takes and even the far away sound of honking irritates her. 

When she catches sight of the bowl of soup, she steps towards it slowly, trying her best to not make the headache worse than it already is. Once she takes a sip, she already feels it clearing. 

Of course he’s a decent cook too.

She thinks back to last night, struggling to remember what happened. She recalls talking about her family and hearing about his. Even so, everything is a blur afterwards. She can only hope she didn’t say anything too embarrassing. 

After finishing the soup, she takes a quick shower and changes into the pile of clothes he laid out for her. He must be at the store and she doesn’t feel right to just leave without saying anything. So she waits, snooping around and finding books with colourful tabs, trying to decipher the meaning of each. She cleans the bedroom as best as she can; it’s the least she can do. When she sweeps under the shelves, a blade slides out. It must have been hidden for a while since it’s so dirty. She sees a few stains but they’re too dark to make out. 

Before she can think any further, she hears the door click open so she stuffs it into a pocket from last night’s clothes and goes out. 

“Hey, you’re awake.” He says as he takes his shoes off and hangs his scarf.

“Thank you for the soup.” She smiles at him and he returns it.

“How long have you been up?” He moves to put his things in the places they should be in. 

“Not long, I did some cleaning and-”

“You did what?” He chokes on a cup of water.

“I didn’t mean to pry. I just-” He laughs and shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have. You’re a guest.” He walks to the couch, inviting her to sit with him.

“Well, you didn’t give me much to do. Where’d you go, anyway?” His eyes widen and he immediately gets back up before rushing to his coat and bringing back an envelope with him.

“This was in the mail this morning. I’m not expecting any so I figured it must be regarding you.” He hands it over and she stares at it. The sender reads Aki and that’s all she needs to feel her heart pound in her chest.

“No, I can’t. It must be a rejection letter.” He takes a seat and raises an eyebrow.

“There’s nothing for her to reject.”

“No, she must be writing to tell me that she has given the opportunity of being her apprentice to someone else. It must be that!” He is looking at her with disbelief but it doesn’t seem so impossible to her.

“I cannot open it. I will simply live in oblivion for the rest of my days.” She crosses her arms, falling onto her back.

“I won’t allow it.” He does the same. 

“You can’t make me.”

“I’ll read it out loud then.” He tears the envelope and she immediately reaches for it. Even though he initially raises it beyond her reach, she eventually gets ahold of it. Nevertheless. when it’s in her hands, she hesitates again. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, please open it!” He pleads and she eventually takes the slip of paper out. With shaky hands, her eyes scan the words. After a few moments of silence, she feels her eyes water and she looks up at him, joy erupting within her.

“I know this will be my second time saying it within 48 hours but…I told you so.” He says and she laughs, throwing her arms around him. He gives her a tight squeeze and sighs. She’s too happy to realize what she’s doing.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“This was all you, there’s no need to thank me.” He says back but she just buries herself in his neck even more. “You’ve always been amazing.” He murmurs and she smiles to herself.

“Does this mean you’ll be moving to Japan?” He asks after a few moments of silence and she finally pulls away, looking down at the letter.

“Yeah, I think so.” She says and there’s a little pang of sadness when she says it. She’s always wanted to travel. She has always thought of the steps ahead and nothing has changed…not much has changed. But she feels a little hesitant and she knows why. 

She can say it’s the university, or how she has gotten accustomed to the place, or the food, or anything but she knows it’s no use to fool herself into thinking it’s not him. She cannot reject such an offer for such uncertainty but there’s a strong urge to stay. She wants to be close to him, as much as possible. 

He would think that it’s stupid. He would say it’s ridiculous to give up on her dream for something she cannot comprehend. He would call her foolish and that would be all she needed to move on. 

But if that is so true, why is she so afraid to ask him to reassure her? Is it because he strokes her head a little too softly? Is it because he lets her hug him even when thirty seconds have passed?

“Are you alright?” His soft voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she nods as enthusiastically as she can. 

“Just…” Her eyes shift towards his. He softens his gaze as if he understands what she is worried about. “Taken aback.” She says. He nods slowly and reaches out to hold her hand. The warmth of his fingers on hers makes it even harder to not give in. 

“This is a huge step but I’m sure you know what’s best for yourself.” She looks at their joined hands because she knows if she looks at him, she’ll burst into tears.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“You’ve dreamed of this for the longest time, right? It doesn’t make sense to give all that up now.” He says the last part like he’s talking to both of them. 

“What if it’s a mistake?” She whispers, her voice cracking. He chuckles and pulls her into him. 

“When I’m in a dilemma, I wait for a sign.” His chest vibrates with each word he says. “When I get that sign, I make my decision.” 

“Does it work?” She laughs into him.

“Most times it does.” He says and she sighs. 

“Make your sign now and if it doesn’t happen before you have to leave, then you’re going.” She thinks about it for a second and then she nods. 

As if he knows what it is, he pulls her in tighter.

a/n: we are nearing the end! writing this has been a bit difficult since it is longer than any usual work i do but i think i would do it again if i come up with another idea.

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Sesshomaru x Modern Reader (Part 1 fanfic/headcannon)

This one I decided to do something uncanny. It has been done before but I haven’t seen any here on tumblr but I am sure it exists. I think its time we flipped the script on the Inuyasha fandom with this one.

I am currently looking at three drafts I had written for this character. Its funny, its all the same title but all very different story lines. I might post them as their own thing, but I am unsure yet. There is so much editing and things which need to get done.

Anyway, I hope you all like this head cannon! Please enjoy!

Working in a shrine was something you didn’t imagine doing too much. So when you moved to Japan and it was the only job you could get, you were kind of ‘meh’ about it.

However, the people who owned the shrine were rather nice and even rented out a room to you, a room which belonged to a young teen who once lived at the house. Higurashi shrine was rather nice, but cold in the winter.

It happened as you were sweeping the stone walkway. A light was coming from the shed with the old well.

You walked towards it, wondering if there was someone inside with a flashlight, but then the light faded and you stood there, broom in hand, waiting to see if it was teenagers checking out ‘the old creepy well’ rightly called the bone eater’s well.

Taking another step forward, you jumped and screamed when a hand broke through the wooden door before an eerie green steam came off it and began melting the door.

Sesshomaru was mad. Not only had a sparing match not gone his way, but his brother knocked him into the well and then had the nerve to build a shrine house around it.

Did the idiot really think he killed him?

Ripping off the decaying door, Sesshomaru did not expect to find a shaking priestess hugging a broom.

Gold eyes scanned you over, before looking around. The smells were unfamiliar, the land different. His gazed travelled across the shrine before resting back on you.

“Where is Inuyasha?”

Your stuttering and fear made him closed his eyes, the only thing keeping him from rolling them. How easy to fear humans were, and a priestess no less-

His eyes snapped open when he felt it hit his head. You both locked eyes, a glare on your face as your broom laid on his head where you had wacked him.

“Don’t scare people like that!!!! You almost gave me a heart attack and you somehow melted a door you need to replace!”

You continued ranting as he registered that, not only did you wack him with a dirty cleaning tool, but you were yelling at him like a child. There was only one other human who had the nerve to yell at him like this.

Inuyasha’s woman.

In a second Sesshomaru was in your face. Being so close you noticed the nose twitch. “You do not smell like her.”

You looked at where he was and where he was now. Confused by his speed. “Weren’t you…AH!”

The demon grabbed the back of your head, hand tangled in your hair before yanking upward. It was painful, scary and shocking he could lift you off your feet.

“You do not know who you insult girl.”

“OW! OW! OW! THIS HURTS YOU JERK!”

Sesshomaru was used to humans fighting back, struggling, but you would once more surprise him. The punch made him drop you and turn his head. You landed hard on the ground.

Rubbing your bottom, you looked up. “That’s what you….” Your words died when eyes landed on red ones.

You were so dead.

“DEMON BEGONE!”

Both you and Sesshomaru would be hit by salts. Eyes now back to their yellow color, Sesshomaru could almost crack a smile with how angry he was. But the familiar scent caught his attention.

Kagome’s scent was on the old man and the woman who ran after him. She would gasp and correctly identify him as Sesshomaru, Inuyasha’s brother Kagome had told her all about.

So he was in this ‘other world’ Rin would describe to him when he visited her. The young girl often was told stories by the Priest.

Amber eyes locked back on you. From Sesshomaru’s understanding, demons did not exist here, so he was told, therefore you had no other reason but to think him human.

“I will overlook your insults this day but let this be a warning. Next time I will cut you down.”

That is when you notice the two very real looking swords. This was before watching in horror as Ms. Higurashi invited him inside.

*~*

This is more of a mini fanfic rather than a head cannon. I wanted to get this part out before the head cannonly bullet point one. I think this would be cute, terrifying and different.

Part 2

[jackrrabbit]

Hi there! I’ve been on the lookout for a blog to satisfy my nsfw needs so I’m glad I found your blog! Would you be able to do a scenario/imagine where Shinobu (kny) gets jealous of her fem! s/o paying attention to other people and not her so shinobu takes her to her room and uses a strap on to just fuck her into the mattress and is really loud about it just to show everyone her s/o is hers? Idk how dirty/nsfw you’re willing to get so if you don’t want to do this request it’s totally fine lol

Steam /// Shinobu x f!Reader (18+)

This ask is so incredibly up my alley, thank you anon for blessing us ♡ I hope you appreciate the 20+ mins I spent researching if strapons existed in Taisho-era Japan (they did) as well as the 20+ mins it took for me to talk myself out of editing “bad girls get the strap” into Shinobu’s speech bubble.

Warnings: slight dubcon, tipsy/inebriated sex, slight exhibitionism

“Shinobu?” you called out carelessly as slid open the door to the room you were sharing and took stock of its contents. Tatami mats, a polished mahogany table with two cushions for seating, and your futons. No Shinobu. Through your tipsy haze, you frowned at the sight of it, empty and dark, everything perfectly arranged, as clean as it had been when the two of you had arrived at the inn this morning. Where is she?

Oh. The baths, you answered yourself a long moment later, giggling at your oversight. “Shinobuuu~” you sang again, slipping off the underwear from under your yukata and grabbing a towel before making your way out to the private open-air bath attached to your room. Of course she was in the bath—the famous hot springs at this inn were the only reason she’d agreed to take you with her on this mission, and only after weeks of pleading on your part.

It was a shame she’d had to leave dinner early. She’d said her head hurt and had insisted on going back to the room alone. You’d been so worried about her that you’d had a little too much to drink—well, maybe more than a little. In your defense, Uzui and Rengoku (who’d tagged onto Shinobu’s mission solely to take advantage of the luxurious accommodations that were being provided) had egged you on unintentionally.

“I’m glad to see she’s been able to open up to you. The two of you seem to be good friends.”

Drink.

“You and her are so close, almost like sisters.”

Drink.

“It’s nice to see two pretty girls spending time together, but you can’t live at her house forever. When one of you finds a husband, the other one will be lonely.”

Drink. Drink. Drink.

You should be used to laughing it off—they meant well, and how were they supposed to know? You’d been the one to insist that your relationship stay a secret to the Corps. But between all the merriment tonight, you’d felt guilty. Now, with the dry sweetness of the sake still lingering in the back of your throat, your thoughts were almost hazy enough to forget your girlfriend’s eyes when she excused herself, complaining of a headache.

“Don’t think about that,” you whispered to yourself, and you crept on tiptoes around to the side of the bath where Shinobu was resting with her eyes closed. “Boo!”

Her eyes opened slowly, long lashes sweeping up as her mouth curled into that perfect unknowable smile. “Hello, (Y/N). Nice of you to join me.”

“You weren’t surprised,” you pouted, but your disappointment only lasted half a second before you couldn’t resist kneeling down at the edge of the bath and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “I missed you at dinner. How’s your head?”

“Better.” Shinobu straightened in the water and turned toward you, taking in the flush on your cheeks, your tousled hair, and…the precarious dip of your yukata’s neckline, a bare triangle of skin that exposed a lot more than you were probably aware of. “Were you drinking?”

“Just a bit,” you told her, your sentence punctuated by a poorly-timed hiccup that belied the truth of your evening. You looked over at the thin bamboo wall behind the rocks at the side of the spring, the one separating your private bath from the one the men were sharing in the room next to yours. “Well…um, Rengoku kept refilling my cup, and I didn’t want to be rude—“

Shinobu cut you off abruptly by grabbing the collar of your yukata and pulling your head toward hers, her mouth closing over yours before you had a chance to think. With your center of gravity disrupted, one of your hands splashed into the water and you yelped at the sudden heat. Your girlfriend just grinned, letting up her hold on your face only long enough to deftly untie the knot on your robe.

You didn’t even notice the long fingers at your waist until your sash dropped to the floor and the robe fell open, exposing your skin to the sudden wet warmth of the steam all around you. Wait, when did she— Holding the yukata closed with one hand, you tried to regain your balance and laughed, this time nervously. “Shinobu?”

“Come in the bath,” she said, stroking her hand across your cheek, fingertips leaving hot trails of dampness over your skin.

You looked in her eyes and whatever resolve you had crumbled. The robe slipped over your shoulders and into a pool on the edge of the rock wall, and then you were dipping your feet into the bath and sliding in beside her. The water was deliciously warm, almost too warm, and that combined with the alcohol in your system was making it hard to hold onto the thoughts running through your head. As soon as you were in the water, Shinobu flipped you over and pressed her bare chest into your back, holding you down between her and the rock wall so her hands were free to drape over your shoulders. Her breath was hotter than the steam in the air as she sighed onto the side of your neck.

“Hey, come on,” you said, trying to twist around to face your girlfriend, but she held you fast to the rock. One of her legs nudged up between yours and rubbed against you, slow and hot combined with the heat of the water. You shivered. “Hey, wait—we can’t— The men are on the other side of the wall…” You could hear them talking and laughing, even make out snippets of their conversation here and there. The merry mood from your drinking had clearly carried over into the night.

Shinobu’s slim hand snaked down to cup your breast, and she rubbed your nipple between two fingers. “You asked me to take you with me…you begged.”

“I didn’t know they were coming,” you said back to her, already melting under her touch. “I thought it would be just the two of us.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at dinner.” Shinobu stepped back away from you for a moment to reach for something out of your view on the rocks, her naked hips moving away from yours. You heard a rustle and a splash, but when you tried to look back at her the flat of her palm pushed down on your back, keeping you locked in position.

Awkwardly half bent over the protruding rocks that edged the natural spring, you stared at the bamboo wall again. What is she thinking? you asked yourself, and then the thought was pushed out of your mind at the feeling of Shinobu’s fingers petting against the puffy lips of your cunt.

Even despite the warm water surrounding both of you up to your ribs, Shinobu could feel the thicker slickness of your arousal in your pussy. You inhaled sharply and wiggled in place. “Shinobu—not here, let’s go inside, the walls are really thin—“

“I know.” Ignoring your begging, Shinobu traced up and down your cunt, sliding her fingers down to nudge inside you and then back to pet against your clit. “I could hear you laughing with them for hours. Were you having a good time?”

Another spike of guilt filled your throat, but it was quickly replaced with lust and apprehension at the feeling of Shinobu’s fingers and the accompanying swirls of water over your cunt. “I was just having some drinks, I—mm! Please, please Shinobu, they’ll hear us!��

You were so cute when you were like this. And so frustrating. Shinobu could feel your shivers where her chest was pushed into your back, but that didn’t stop her from sliding a finger into your pussy to tease your g-spot. You thrashed, bucking your hips involuntarily into her hand, even though she knew you were trying to hold yourself back. You really were terrible at controlling yourself… “I thought you liked being the center of attention. You certainly seem to enjoy getting drunk with them, even when your lover is waiting for you,” she murmured.

“What—are you…jealous?” The idea of Shinobu being jealous was so ridiculous that a laugh bubbled up in your throat before you could stifle it. This was Shinobu Kocho—beautiful, powerful, talented—what did she have to be jealous of?

“It was intentional, right?” With unerring precision as always, your girlfriend rubbed against that spot inside you that made your knees weak. “You wanted to make me jealous, you wanted…this.”

She took her hand away and you sighed, half from relief and half in frustration, only for you to go rigid as something a lot thicker and stiffer than a finger nudged up at your pussy. The strapon? When did she even put that on? You’d packed it for this trip as a joke, but it didn’t seem like she was kidding. Her hands were on your hips now, and against the warmth of the water you could feel the distinct bite of her perfectly-manicured fingernails dragging absently over your naked hipbones.

“Shinobu, we can’t do that,” you said, trying your hardest to keep the tremble out of your voice. “You know how hard it is for me to be quiet when, um, when you…”

“Mm…” Giving no indication that she’d heard you (much less that she cared what you were saying), she dipped her head to nip and suck a spot on the side of your neck. “Try your best, (Y/N).”

A wisp of conversation and half a laugh echoed through the wall from the men’s bath and you gulped. “Wait-wait-wait, can’t we just go inside—oh—“ You bit your lip to hold back the rest of your groan as Shinobu pushed the dildo up into your pussy. The water created an awkward, slick drag as the foreign material pulled against your walls. It was warm—unnaturally warm from the water, you hadn’t been expecting that—and you tried to focus on the warmth instead of the discomfort of having something so thick stretching you out.

“Oh, did you forget what it felt like to take a cock in this sweet little pussy?” Shinobu purred into your ear. She rocked her hips forward and the last few inches of the dildo shoved into your cunt and you couldn’t stop yourself from squealing and bending forward over the rock so your plush ass bumped into Shinobu’s hips. “That’s my girl.”

“Sh-Shinobu—“ With the full length of the dildo stuffed into your pussy, you felt so full you could barely speak—not that the alcohol was helping. Your muscles pulsed around the unyielding material, trying to make space for the intrusion. “—it’s so b-big, please don’t move, let me get used to it—“

“Shh, the men will hear you,” Shinobu told you, and she gripped your hips with one hand to hold you steady as she pulled out, giving you a second of relief before the dildo sank into your pussy again. And again. And again.

Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you were being so loud, you could hear yourself crying out every time the strapon penetrated you, but you couldn’t help it. The curved, bulbous head rubbed up and down against your g-spot, triggering swells of pleasure that made you so dizzy that you were pretty sure the strapon and Shinobu’s hands were the only things keeping you upright.

The sounds coming out of your mouth—high-pitched squeaks and gasps as the cock pushed the breath out of your lungs—were unmistakeable, but you could hardly find it in yourself to care. Your haze didn’t allow you to focus on anything but Shinobu fucking you mercilessly. You could barely feel the warmth of the steam or the rough, wet texture of the stone you were folded over, and you couldn’t hear a single thing aside from your moaning in rhythm with the splashing of the water.

“Do you hear that?” The question was barely audible, but the tiny part of your mind that was still functional latched on to it. It had come from the other side of the bamboo wall. The men’s side. Rengoku.

“…what?” Uzui now.

“I don’t…” The voices trailed off, even though you strained to listen. They heard, they heard you getting fucked, and if you were any louder they were going to know what they’d heard, and they’d look at you tomorrow when you saw them and they’d know that Shinobu had fucked you so good that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and they’d know you weren’t just friends.

And honestly? Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Practicing Too Late

I turned toward the nearby table, setting my paintbrush and palette on the splattered drop cloth. My back ached from reaching and stretching to paint the palm leaves on the top of the trees. The nursery in Nick’s house was halfway finished, but I was almost finished with the beach scene in the one in Matt’s place. I sighed, kneading my fingers along my spine.

           We’d found out that we were having a girl a few weeks ago, and both Matt and Nick were happier than I’d ever seen them. They’d cried as they looked at the grainy grey and white image on the screen in the doctor’s office. There was one copy of the photos on the fridge in each house. Sometimes I would walk in and find them sitting together, one of the photos in front of them, whispering about the little girl that was coming into our lives.

           When they left on a new loop, they took the pictures with them. I could only imagine how often they pulled those out and stared at them on those nights in the hotel and the long road trips. The thought made me smile.

           I made my way out of the nursery and down the hallway. I could feel our baby girl shifting and stretching as I walked. She was becoming more active the further along we went. She was shaping up to be a healthy, active child.

           There was a faint, mumbled noise bleeding from Matt’s living room. They’d been home from the most recent loop for just over a day and, unsurprisingly, they’d slept for the first seventeen hours. Between the time difference and the long flight back from Japan, they were exhausted. I couldn’t blame them.

           When I turned the corner into the living room, I couldn’t help but grin lopsidedly. Nick sat on the sofa, his glasses on and a hair tie between his teeth. Matt sat on the floor between his knees with his phone in his hand. The garbled noise was coming from the phone, a video playing.

           I leaned against the wall, watching them quietly to see what they were up to.

Nick

           I could do a lot of things, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever master this. I couldn’t keep one bit separated from another. The video Matt had up on his phone made it look easy, but it really wasn’t.

           “Ow!” Matt grunted as I tried to start over. “You’re not trying to yank it out!”

           “I’m sorry!” I replied around the hair band in my teeth. “It’s not as easy as she’s making it out to be.”

           Matt growled and backed the video up. The voice over began again as a pair of hands started working with a stylist’s head. “Let’s begin simple,” she said. “Brush the hair out and pull it together at the nape of the neck. Then split it into three equal sections.”

           I brushed my brother’s hair back and pulled it together in my hand. With the other, I pulled the hair tie out of my teeth. “Is this as weird to you as it is to me?”

           “Dude, you have no idea.” He laughed and held the phone up so I could see it.

           I carefully separated his hair into three sections, holding one in each hand with the third hanging in the middle. “Okay, let me see what happens next.”

           The video started up again, and I did my best to follow along as she wrapped and twisted the sections around each other. I tried, but couldn’t get it. My fingers were too big or they were getting in the way or I was just stupid and couldn’t do it at all. Matt’s hair looked less like a braid and more like a knot had been tied in it.

           “I’m useless at this,” I grunted, throwing my hands up. “You’re going to have to do it. I’ll tie shoes, clean up poop and vomit, but I’m not going to be able to braid hair.”

Matt

           I switched off YouTube and opened up my camera app, trying to see what Nick had done. My scalp ached, and I was pretty sure there were strands of hair yanked from my head and spilling over the sofa cushions. When I turned my head, I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick wasn’t lying. He was useless at this.

           “Well, I don’t understand the video either. You’d think with hair like ours we would have learned how to this a long time ago.” I reached back and tried to undo the knots and tangles my brother had wound into my hair. A headache had taken root across my forehead from how tight he’d pulled and twisted. “Jesus, we should have just called Mom. Or DJ.”

           I turned to find Nick twisting and flexing his fingers. He stretched them out, interlocking them and pushing them until they popped angrily. He sighed and threw his head against the back of the sofa cushions.

           “Maybe we should just get Y/N to teach us how to do this.”

           “That’s not the point,” I grunted. “This is supposed to be a surprise for her. We’re going to be girl dads. Don’t you think this is something that we should be able to do before the baby’s born?”

           Nick planted his feet on the floor. “We could tell a little fib. That we want to know how to do it for shows.”

           I rolled my eyes. “And then she’ll point out that we have hair people for that. Besides, Nick, she’s smarter than the two of us put together—she’ll figure it out in half a second.”

           “Call Mom?”

***

           I watched them, my hands folded over my stomach as they tried to learn to braid. My heart skipped a beat, warmth rushing through me. I felt the soft push and stretch of our little girl’s foot against my fingers and smiled. She was livelier by the day, stretching and shifting inside me. I loved her so desperately even now. Even knowing that she was still so far away.

           Before I could stop myself, I turned the corner. Nick looked up, guilt rushing over his features for half a second. His blue eyes were lively and bright, crisp in a way that reminded me of the morning sky in winter. A smile chased its way over his face as he unfolded himself from the sofa and crossed the room toward me. His arms slid around me and lifted me from the ground.

           “You have paint on your cheek,” he said, bumping his nose against mine. He smiled even broader and ghosted his lips playfully over mine.

           I laughed and threw my arms around his neck. “Of course I do. I’m short and palm trees are tall.”

           Matt stood up from the floor, still trying to pull the knots and tangles from his hair. I tried to act like I didn’t see it. He loped across the room, his cheeks rounded in a smile. “It makes you look cute.”

           “Don’t I always?” I teased.

           They gathered me up in a sandwiched hug and drew me toward the sofa. I let them pull me down into the space between them. Nick sat sideways on one side while Matt stretched out, his head in my lap. I grinned and tilted my head against Nick’s chest as I slowly slipped my fingers through Matt’s thick, brown hair. He let out a faint hum of happiness as my nails skimmed across his scalp.

           “I love your hair,” I sighed. I snuggled into the crook of Nick’s neck. “Both of you. I could do this forever.”

           As gently as I could, I tugged his hair gently from the place it was trapped against my thigh. My fingers combed slowly. I hummed beneath my breath, smiling as I carefully separated out three sections. Matt’s eyes were closed, but I could sense Nick watching my every move.

           “One, two, three,’ I whispered softly. “Left over middle, right over middle. Left over middle, right over middle.”

           The barely there murmur of my voice and the soothing sweep of my hands against his hair put Matt to sleep quickly. He snored softly as I finger combed the braid free and started again, quietly repeating the instructions again. I did it once more, my head still tucked peacefully against Nick. He kissed the top of my head.

           “You heard us, didn’t you?” my other husband said after a while. His fingers slid beneath my chin, tilting my head up so that our eyes met. There was mischief in his blue eyes.

           I nipped my bottom lip and grinned sideways. “I might have heard a thing or two. And seen you tangle Matt’s hair into a rat’s nest.”

           Nick grinned, a soft chuckle in his throat. “We’ll never get anything past you, Mama.”

@mox-made-me-do-it​

@not-that-kinda-gurl08​

@lilred91​

@imagineall-the-fandoms​

@maelleoute​

@librathepheonix13​

@justamess44​

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Ch. 2

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn

A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.

(series masterlist)

~~

Aizawa-sensei had the class rearrange their desks to fit you into the equation. The rows were now 6 by 3, with 3 additional people sitting in their own 4th row. You felt bad that everyone had to move slightly to only accommodate you, but no one seemed too upset about it after seeing how well you fought today. You now sat by Iida, Kirishima, and Tsu who all assured you that no one was upset at moving seats. In fact, they all seemed happy to be able to sit by you.

Most of the class went by smoothly. You met a few other teachers, Present Mic and Midnight, who both greeted you excitedly. Everything ran smoothly, the class primarily focusing on textbook related terms like the police codes you might hear on the radio.

By the time lunch rolled around, Ashido had already invited you to sit with her and Hagakure during the lunch period. You happily accepted the offer and followed them to Lunch Rush Cafeteria.

“We don’t always sit together during lunch because sometimes Mina sits with Kirishima, I sit with Ojiro, or we both sit with the girls, but we wanted to make sure you were around good people at lunch today!” Toru explained as she grabbed food for lunch.

“And we assumed you didn’t really want to be around a bunch of people,” Ashido added as she grabbed a small slice of cake for dessert.

You nodded in appreciation and mumbled a small, “Thank you.”

They took you to a small table that could only fit the 3 of you and began giving you the run-down on everyone in the class.

“This is important information!” Ashido started. She shoved some rice into her mouth before pointing over at the purple-haired boy from before. You looked at him and then back at Ashido to see her quickly try and swallow the food. “That’s Mineta and he’s a total creep! Ugh, he is always trying to get into our pants, but it’s worse for Momo.” She gulped down a sip of water. “He clung onto her back during the obstacle course of the sports festival last year. Imagine not being able to get that pervert off you.”

“Why don’t you guys just report him?” You asked, watching disgustedly as he lingered around a group of girls you didn’t recognize. One of them looked like she was about to punch him in the face.

“He’s too smart,” Toru explained. “He’s one of the smartest people in our class and never does anything too gross in front of teachers. Make sure you keep your dorm room locked because he will sneak in and take your panties.”

Ashido and Hagakure both gagged at the thought.

Fuck. What a creep.

The girls continued on from there, pointing at everyone and explaining their quirk. Some were common quirks in America like Iida’s speed, although the engine aspect was new, and Kaminari’s electricity. Others were more creative like Momo’s and Tokoyami’s.

“Oh yeah! I saw Tokoyami during the sports festival. I thought his quirk was so cool!” You interrupted.

“It’s powerful too!” Mina added.

“Yeah,” You started, “I remember seeing how easily he beat everyone until Bakugou was able to figure out his weakness. That battle was tragic, yet also amazing.” You gestured your hands to match the excitement you originally felt when watching the match. “Honestly, Bakugou must have been really focused to realize Tokoyami’s weakness.”

Ashido and Hagakure laughed at your comment. “Don’t let him hear you, Y/N. It’ll just stroke his ego even more!” Mina commented.

You laughed with them, trying to push away how obviously impressed you were by Bakugou. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The three of you continued to chat until lunch was over and you needed to make your way back to class. When you got back to class, Aizawa was waiting inside for you and told you to come with him to see Mr. President.

Ashido and Hagakure’s shoulders brushed yours and you felt them worrying, so you flashed them a smile and grabbed their hands, activating your quirk to calm them down just slightly. “Don’t worry. This probably just has to do with my class placement.”

They smiled back at you and you let go of their hands before following Aizawa into the still bustling hallway. It quickly cleared out as the final bell rang and he began talking to you about your match that day.

“You worked very well today, but your quirk is too narrow when not with weapons. I’d like for us to focus on you using your quirk more offensively besides just making people fall asleep.” He commented.

You nodded, it was a comment your mom had given you time and time again. “Wait?” You looked up at him. “‘Us?’ Does that mean I’m in 1-A?”

“Would we really have rearranged the desks if you weren’t?” He questioned back.

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, “No, I guess not.”

By then, you arrived at Mr. President’s office and Aizawa knocked on the door. When it opened, you were only greeted by Mr. President this time.

“Welcome!” He greeted. “Please come in and take a seat.” You sat down along with Aizawa while Mr. President offered you each a cookie. Both of you declined. “So be it,” He said before eating up one of the cookies himself. The silence was awkward as you waited for him to finish. Once done, he looked up at you. “Y/N, congratulations on such a great first day. Aizawa told me you were able to beat Bakugou with no problem.”

“Oh,” You spoke, “Thank you, but it really was because he didn’t know my quirk. I’m sure if he did, he would have been able to avoid my sleeping touch.”

“Nonsense! Don’t sell yourself short!” Mr. The President insisted. “Anyways! I asked you here because I wanted to give you some extra time to get your things moved into the UA dorm. I know it will take some time to move your things so I got a cart for you that will help you carry more boxes.” He gestures over to a red cart in the corner of his office.

“Ah, thank you, Mr. President-sensei.” You bowed slightly to show your appreciation.

“No problem!” He smiled happily. “I hope you get accustomed quickly. Your dorms are in building 2-A, you can find it on this map.” He handed you a map of the school which you accepted graciously. “There are 5 floors, the first being recreational and the other 4 being dorms. You are on floor 4, and your room is number 6. There is a list of the dorm rules in your room so please make sure to read up on them before your classmates begin arriving later today.” He grabbed a key from a drawer in his desk and held it out for you.

You nodded again and took the key from him, making sure to be as formal as you could at this moment.

“Now, go ahead and get to it!” Mr. President announced cheerfully.

You quickly said your goodbyes and rushed out of the room with the red cart. You started on your way to your mom’s apartment, grabbing your phone and playing some music you could dance to that also had quick tempos to keep you moving.

Most of your things were already in the box, so you would only have to spend time packing the box that held everything you used in the last three days. Once back, you quickly grabbed a few boxes to pile onto your cart. You aimed for getting almost everything over by the time your classmates were done. That gave you approximately 2 and a half hours till they were done in class. It took you 10 minutes to get all the way to your room from the apartment as well as another 10 minutes to get back so you hoped you would be able to finish in time.

You moved as quickly as you could, piling the boxes onto your floor, desk, and bare mattress. Once you had every box here, you could spend the rest of your time today reorganizing. You heard the elevator ding just as you were exiting your room to head back for your last trip.

Out walked Bakugo who looked up at you before quickly looking away and walking into the room across from yours.

God, I must look like a mess, you thought as you hopped onto the elevator. You were rather sweaty and had to put your hair up into a ponytail. After your third trip, you realized you needed to change and keep your school clothes clean. You were wearing an old sweatshirt that was your brothers and practically swallowed you up and well as a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers.

You looked in the blurry metal reflection of the elevator to see flyaways from your ponytail, a few old bruises on your legs, and the mascara you wore that day flaking off and onto your cheeks. You quickly brushed away the black specs and fixed your hair the best you could. The elevator opened and you walked out with the cart, heading back to the apartment.

Honestly, you wished your interactions with Bakugo today had gone better. You didn’t know very much about him other than what you saw at the sports festival and what few articles there were about him online. A few of them analyzed his battle skills and others were about the time he got captured by a monster that really resembled a Muk from Pokemon. Ashido told you never to bring that up in front of him so that was off-limits when it came to your list of ‘Things You Can Talk to Bakugou About’.

Dumb.

His only goal in life was to become the number 1 hero and it wasn’t likely that he would even pay attention to you. It was best to sweep the silly little crush you had under the rug before it ruined your chances to even just be friends with the handsome blond.

Could you even call it a crush? You literally just met him! Maybe it was just admiration? Or a want to be friends with someone so strong? You could definitely see yourself learning from him, but you could also definitely see yourself falling in love with him.

You groaned and told yourself you could push away the feelings easily.

Your mom still wasn’t home when you arrived to grab your last four boxes so you wrote her a short note about where you would be living now and told her you were going to be busy but would try and see her soon. You also mentioned that you already fed Jerry, your cat, his afternoon treats.

As you left the apartment, you took one last look around and your eyes settled on the yellow and incredibly uncomfortable couch. You flipped off the couch, ready to settle into the small dorm you were given.

When you got back, more people were in the dorm and they quickly greeted you, asking why you left early. You briefly explained your absence before excusing yourself to unpack. A couple of the girls offered to help you, especially Ashido because your dorm was right next to her’s, but you brushed them off, saying it wouldn’t take long.

Except it would take a while. You just wanted to spend some time alone to relish in the music that helped you block out others and your thoughts.

The first thing you did was open your window to the cool air and put on your clean bedsheets. You opted for having the school provide you with furniture because you were too lazy to bring yours from America. You asked for a white desk and a black bed frame with drawers underneath it instead of a chest of drawers. You were tempted to lay down on the fresh sheets but instead spent some time putting away your clothes before finally giving in.

You finally touched the soft fabric of your bedding just as you noticed the sun beginning to set. The sky blushed pastel pinks and warm oranges that resembled the one from this morning. You pulled out your phone to see a text from your mom about your note.

TIred. I'm so tired, you thought, barely able to read the text through your blurred vision.

Before you had the chance to reply to her, your hand dropped your phone onto the soft bed and your eyelids weighed you down. Slowly, they fluttered closed and you convinced yourself that a small nap was all you needed to get through the rest of the day.

~~

When you woke up, the sun was completely gone and stars shined brightly in its place. You groaned, knowing that you were ruining your sleep schedule. Your stomach rumbled and you couldn’t resist getting out of bed and going downstairs to see what food you might be able to eat.

You opted for using the stairs, worried the sound of the elevator might wake someone. Once downstairs, you smelled something glorious, tempting you closer and closer. As you rounded the corner, you were greeted with the appearance of Bakugou.

God, I just can’t escape him.

It was then you realized that your earbuds had fallen out of your ears while you slept and you could hear Bakugo’s thoughts. He was currently reliving your battle with him today. He was making mental notes of everything that happened and also referring to a conversation he had with Kirishima about the battle.

You didn’t want to disturb him so you started to turn away when the scent of Thai curry wafted over to you and caused your stomach to grumble.

Fuck.

Bakugo looked up and you and glared.

I’m the only person ever awake at this time and now this stupid girl is going to ruin that? Is she going to always be awake at this time?

You couldn’t resist. “Uh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. And no I’m usually not awake at this time. I-I was just so tired from moving so I fell asleep before dinner and didn’t wake up till now. Honestly! I’m really sorry. I’ll just-”

“Shut up.”

You looked up from fiddling with your thumbs. “Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.” He didn’t even look up at you when he responded, he just kept stirring the pot and sprinkling in different spices.

“S-” You stopped yourself. “Um, anyways! That food smells good!”

“Of course it does. I made it,” Bakugou responded.

He doesn’t put much effort into conversations, does he?

You took a seat at one of the tall stools by the kitchen, too tired to stand. It gave you a good view of all the food he had spread out. And of his back. The black shirt he wore clung to his muscles perfectly. You pushed the thought away quickly, deciding to distract yourself. “Your reputation suits you, Bakugou. Cocky.” You couldn't help but snicker a little at your comment.

Like you know anything about me, he thought.

“You’re right, I don’t know much about you. Why don’t you tell me more?” You questioned, resting your chin on your hand and leaning forward in hopes that he would open up.

However, reading his thoughts, responding to them, and asking him questions seemed to be the perfect way to set Bakugou off.

“Listen here! If you are gonna sit here, you better stop responding to my thoughts so I can at least pretend you can’t hear them. Better yet, just shut your mouth altogether!” He looked back at you with his fiery red eyes, as if challenging you to speak up just so he could respond angrier.

You zipped your lips, locked them, and threw away the invisible key.

So childish, he thought, rolling his eyes and turning back to the food.

You couldn’t help but smile at his thought, but made sure to keep silent as he continued to work. You could make something to eat after he was done. You didn’t want to get in his way and make him angrier. To keep the peace, you pushed your fingers into your ears to muffle his thoughts.

After a couple of minutes, Bakugou placed the pot of curry in front of you. Then the pot of rice. You looked up at him curiously and pulled out your fingers.

“Make yourself useful and get us bowls and chopsticks.” He took a seat in the chair next to you. “And water.”

You nodded and went to get up before stopping yourself. “Wait, you are letting me eat some of this food?”

He scoffed. “I just happened to make too much and I don’t want it to go to waste.” He looked up at you and saw the smile on your face. “Don’t think we’re friends now or anything!”

You stood up, unable to hide your small smile. He was dumb to forget you could hear his thoughts and realize that he wasn’t as angry as he showed. You happily walked up to the cabinets and then looked back at Bakugou. “Where are the bowls? And chopsticks? And cups?” You bit your lip, worried that this might actually anger him.

Bakugou scoffed and got up. He pointed at a cabinet that you opened to reveal the cups. You grabbed two and turned on the sink to fill them with water. In the meantime, Bakugou had grabbed bowls and chopsticks and was already dividing up the food into two portions.

You sat down, placing a cup in front of your seat and his. Bakugou was already eating and you weren’t sure whether to thank him for the meal so you mumbled “Itadakimasu,” before grabbing your chopsticks and eating.

Bakugou stifled a laugh at your sudden shyness and mumbled back, “Hai.”

You grabbed a good bite of the curry and slurped it down. It was spicy, but- “Holy shit, Bakugou, this is amazing!”

He didn’t even look up from his food to respond to you. “Why wouldn’t it be? I made it.” His voice was oddly calm and quiet compared to how much he yelled throughout today.

You smiled at him before taking another bite. The spiciness was hardly overpowering the creaminess of the curry. You remembered reading somewhere that Bakugou liked spicy foods and decided to try and pick up a conversation based on that. “Do you like spicy food so much because it makes you sweat?” You asked.

He paused for a moment and you could hear his brain run with thoughts on why you were so insistent on talking to him and why he actually didn’t mind it too much. “No, it’s because my body controls heat better than others. When people eat spicy food, your body thinks you're on fire and releases all these endorphins that are supposed to help with the pain. I can tolerate heat better than others so I need a lot of spice to release the endorphins.”

“Ohh,” You spoke. “That’s so cool!” You shoved more rice into your mouth to stop yourself from fawning over Bakugou’s quirk right in front of him.

You were the only person in your family without an element-related quirk. All your siblings had quirks that were offensive, but yours was defensive. It made you a little obsessed with quirks that are more powerful and offensive like Bakugou’s. You knew you were lucky to have such a powerful quirk, but you sometimes resented how you got that quirk. It was a constant reminder of a past everyone wanted to forget.

Bakugou didn’t respond to you, but you didn’t worry. You could hear his thoughts.

Why does she find such a simple part of my quirk cool? What an idiot.

Your arm brushed against his and got a brief glimpse into how many emotions were running through his head in one moment. He was a little annoyed, angry, tired, and just a tad bit nervous.

Nervous. Why is he nervous? Could he be nervous to talk to-

“What are you thinking about, huh?” He asked you, glaring in your direction. “You have such a stupid grin on your face.”

“Huh? Oh, nothing!” You responded. He raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively. “Really!” You added, waving your hands to not only assure him but also to help with how suddenly hot it was.

Bakugou groaned and looked back to your food, he didn’t start eating though.

You felt like such an asshole considering you were able to read his thoughts. You tried to ignore them, but they came through clear as day. You wouldn’t respond to him though, and frankly, you didn’t want to respond to what he was thinking about right now. You shoved more rice into your mouth to hopefully drown out his thoughts.

“So,” He mumbled, “I looked up your mom.”

You practically choked trying to finish the serving of rice in your mouth. You really didn’t think he would actually bring it up. “And?” You responded, mouth half full.

“And she’s pretty powerful. So are your siblings.”

“I know. They are my family aren’t they?” You responded.

Brat, he thought.

“Why don’t you control any elements?” He asked bluntly.

Fuck. “Fuck.” You were really wishing he wouldn’t ask that. You stuffed your face with rice again, almost refusing to respond. You loved your family to death, but that was not a question someone should ask you. It brought back too many memories. “That question is quite personal,” You mumbled as you finished off the rice. You drank the creamy broth, letting the heat fill up your body. You didn’t mean to snap, but you really didn’t want to address the elephant in the room.

“Well, how the fuck would I know that?” Bakugou responded. “I was just curious!”

You let your anger get the best of you, your body feeding off of Bakugou’s anger as well. You stood up abruptly, grabbing your bowl and tossing it into the sink. “Well, let’s take a look at the facts. My family is a long line of people who manipulate one or multiple elements. I am currently the only one alive right now who doesn’t. Obviously, it’s something personal.”

Fuck, I really messed up, Bakugou thought. He looked down, grinding his teeth in confusion and frustration. He then realized that he didn’t owe you anything and there was no reason to be mad at him.

You stopped him before he could even speak up, “Just keep your mouth fucking shut!” You turned away for a moment before looking at Bakugou. “Thank you for the delicious food!”

You stormed off, rushing to the elevator. You were going to clean up the dishes as a thank you. You were going to insist you and Bakugou meet together to go over the match today and even spar again. You were going to do a lot. But then he asked a question that was just a bit too personal for you.

Once in the elevator, you faced forward so you could see him through the long hallway just one last time. He stared at you, bowl in his hands.

What’s wrong with her? He scowled at you and caught your eyes.

I know you can hear me, (Y/N). Don’t play dumb.

The doors closed just as you gasped. You felt like an idiot.

[thevoidable]

How and why Dabi is still alive - a theory

Now, assuming the Dabi is a Todoroki theory is correct, there’s always been one big, persisting question since we got a certain confirmation several chapters ago in the manga: just how is Dabi still alive?

That’s the question I’m hoping to answer or at least provide some more insight on by the end of this post, and what I’ll be doing is going in-depth about the cremation process and digging into context clues within the manga, so, major manga spoilers and TWs ahead.

Before we look into how Dabi is still alive, we must first answer how Toya himself actually “died”. As I previously mentioned, chapter 249 gave us confirmation that the Todorokis all firmly believe that Toya is dead, but it was still left unclear on just what was the cause, and most of us had the idea that Endeavour had possibly killed Toya during training.

But then, chapter 252 gave us another vague yet crucial detail:

Endeavour was not directly responsible for his death, but the way this is worded still implies that he is somewhat part of the reason. So, if Endeavour didn’t kill him, what did? Previously in chapter 250, Fuyumi mentions the following:

So, we know that whatever happened to Toya was after the kettle incident. Now, given all the build-up of him being the eldest (therefore him seeing and experiencing the most), suffering through Endeavour’s abuse, and then his mother snapping and becoming potentially just as dangerous, the most likely cause of death for Toya is, unfortunately, suicide. Everything was just too much for him at that point and he, too, snapped. It’s likely that he hid away in an empty room and burned himself alive, and by the time Endeavour (or possibly any of his siblings) found him, it was too late.

So now that we know how Toya died, we can finally start getting to the juicy part, but before we do, I would just like to quickly bring up Dabi’s Quirk and how compatible it is with his body, because that’s going to be important later.

During Dabi’s fight with Geten, we got confirmation that his flames are indeed detrimental to his own body.

Paired with Endeavour’s words said to Shoto during training, and Natuso, Rei, and Fuyumi’s conversation in chapter 187,

it’s easy to put together that Toya inherited a body more suited for an ice Quirk. Given that, it’s still very impressive that Dabi is getting away with the burns that he has and isn’t just straight up dead, so just how hot are his flames? With a quick Google search, blue fire burns at a whopping 1400 - 1650 degrees Celsius (2600 - 3000 degrees Fahrenheit), which means that despite his disadvantage, he still has an amazingly strong resistance to extremely high temperatures. Not only that, but his body is also very likely to survive extreme cold temperatures too, so in a way, Toya essentially has a very flawed version of Shoto’s body and Quirk.

Alright, back to our regularly scehduled programming.  So, Toya burned himself alive, and now Endeavour has to deal with the aftermath. What does he do? Something that I’ve noticed which is incredibly strange is that none of the authorities have been able to figure out Dabi’s identity at all - as of right now, every single core League member has been revealed except for Dabi. If Dabi is Toya, why has no one been able to get DNA tests, fingerprints, etc.? If the other members can be figured out, then Dabi should be too. ...Unless Endeavour had wanted to erase Toya from public existence entirely.  It’s entirely possible that Endeavour contacted the Safety Commission to help him cover up his son’s death and make it as if he had never existed in the first place. Back then, Toya was seen as nothing but a mistake, a failure, so with him dead, it was easy for Endeavour to just sweep him under the rug and move on with his successful son. The Safety Commission would have handled erasing any and all data on Toya, which would explain why investigations regarding Dabi’s identity are coming up dry (oh the irony). So, with his digital existence erased, what about his actual physical one? Considering that around 99% of deceased in Japan are cremated, and Dabi’s name itself means “cremation”, the choice is blatantly obvious. What we have next to look at to figure out how Dabi survived is the cremation process. It consists of a few basic steps: - The body is transported to the crematory and kept in cold storage until the time of cremation - The body must be identified before the cremation process can begin - The body is cleaned and dressed (optional) - The body is placed into a cardboard box or casket and is cremated in the cremation chamber for 2 - 3 hours - Lastly, the remains are then ground up into “ashes” and given back to the family. First of all, in order for this theory to check out, we must address the elephant in the room: Toya is presumed dead.  So how would he even be alive at this point anyway? Well, there’s actually a pretty good explanation for that. Turns out, people waking up in morgues can happen every so often. (As a side note, I’m no medical expert, so if I get anything wrong or get the information confused, then please let me know.)

A reduction in temperature you say? Like...being kept in cold storage? When Toya burned himself alive, he would have burned until he lost consciousness due to the fire eating away at his oxygen, which could have prompted his heart to stop or reduce its pulse greatly. Thus, as the above article suggests, when he was placed into cold storage, he was kept alive and given time to recover. The fact that his body is more suited to the cold is even better in this case, meaning that there’s no way the cold would harm him either.

With the elephant removed, we can now move on to the next steps: body identification and cremation preparation. Assuming that the Safety Commission is taking all measures to make sure that no one knows this is Endeavour’s eldest son, this part of the process suddenly becomes extra shady.  What the body identification means is that the body is labelled with a unique number so that the remains can be identified after the cremation. However, there is also paperwork involved - yet another thing that the Commission would have to keep confidential, or perhaps even alter, giving fake names and the like.  As mentioned earlier, the body being cleaned and dressed is optional, so that is clearly off the table too in order to keep Toya’s identity hidden from whoever works at the crematory.

And finally, we now get to the best part: the cremation itself. I doubt that Endeavour would have a casket prepared for Toya, so he would just be placed in a sturdy cardboard box, and then he’d be slid on into the cremation chamber, which is basically a human-sized brick oven. Now, this is where Toya’s body compatibility really comes into play. Remember how I said that blue fire burns at 1400 - 1650 degrees Celsius (2600 - 3000 degrees Fahrenheit), and that regardless of his burns he still has a crazy high temperature tolerance because of it? If he is able to withstand a decent amount of his own flames, then a measly cremation temperature of 1000 - 1300 degrees Celsius (1400 - 1800 degrees Fahrenheit) will do almost nothing to him besides make his already existing burns a little worse. So, it’s at this point that we now have to ditch science and research and start letting our imaginations run wild, because everything that happens next is all plot-based. It’s worth mentioning that I have never worked in a crematory before, so I’m not sure if the bodies are watched constantly while they burn (I know that families can watch their desceased be cremated if they so choose, but as far as general monitoring goes, I’m not sure), mostly because the process takes 2 - 3 hours, but if they’re not watched, then it’s my personal belief that Toya wakes up as he’s being cremated and busts his way out of the cardboard box in a fit of panic. Once out of the chamber, he realises what’s going on due to another body that could be cremating at the same time.  I’d imagine that what’s going through Toya’s head right now is that people think he’s dead when he’s actually not, and he’d perfer it if it stayed that way. He has the perfect opportunity to get away from Endeavour and start anew elsewhere - this is his second chance. To avoid being found out, he braves the flames again to switch out the ID labels so that the other body’s ashes will be mistaken for his, and he makes his escape out of the crematory to face the streets for the first time. As for what happens during the ten year gap between then and now, I have no idea of what Dabi does or goes through, so that’s all for Hori to know and us to find out.

And so, that concludes my theory! 

I hope you all enjoyed reading it - I did as much research as I could and tried to come up with the most logical scenario possible, and this was the result. I’ve been working on it since midnight and it is now 3AM, so I am going to go the fuck to bed and get some sleep lmao. Let me know your thoughts and if you have anything to add!

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU [Book 4]

CATCH UP! Book 1 * 2 * 3

Chapter 4: Lets Get Fuckin FUNKY!

Not that big of a time skip, the twins are nearing the end of their second year of middle school. Hanaka has special training time with her dad. Tensei still has to reach out to his mother on quirk training, mainly because he’s been debating and making a new sound for his band. 

“...points to the opposed, Iida and Tanaka move on to the next round.”

The room erupted with cheer as the debate duo stood up to give their bows. Tensei was internally psyched out of his mind! He was at Japan’s Grand Prix Debate Tournament and he just got his team to move on to the semi-finals. If they do well in semis, Nationals next year is a guarantee!

“Gentlemen, I won’t lie” Tensei tried to hold it in “the moment they slipped up in their cross examination, they were done for!”

“We saw that! The way you pushed up your glasses before giving your final statement was iconic” gushed one of his teammates.

“Lets go get some food before they do the final draw” suggested one of the boys “They have good food here!”

“Hup! Iida-kun, may I have a word before you go on your lunch?” requested the new coach.

“Ummm sure” Tensei walked toward the coach, then quickly turned back to the group “Get me yakisoba! I don’t know how long I’m going to be.”

The coach waited until the other boys were out of earshot “Alright, you’re not in trouble and nothing is wrong. I wanted to let you know that I spoke to a coach at Waseda Uni.”

“Waseda is here?!” gasped Tensei.

The new coach smiled “I thought you might react like that! They have you on their radar. If you play your cards right, you might be looking at scholarships and offers to get into their humanities programs when you apply for college.”

“That does sound ideal” Tensei pondered out loud “I’ll do my best to make this a clean sweep for our school.”

“Oh and another thing! Are you doing this next year too?”

Tensei got sheepish “I’m not sure anymore. Since I’m still going with my plan to do hero school after middle school” he sighed “That big infraction on my school record doesn’t look too good on me to go to those privates with their absolute units of debaters. I don’t really see the point of doing a third year of this if I’m going down that route.”

“Well, if you change your mind” the coach takes out a pin from his satchel “I’d love to have you as my student coach for next school year.”

Tensei gasped “You want me as Club Senpai?!”

He nodded as they handed Tensei the tiny gold pin “I can’t think of anyone else that’s more than capable.”

“Oh I can’t possibly take this” Tensei handed back the pin “I don’t have a definite answer.”

“Hold on to it, think it over” the coach pushed Tensei’s hand back gently “Give it back on the first day of third year if you’re not joining. I trust you won’t forget nor misplace it until then.”

That was the biggest power move Tensei has ever witnessed. He continued to get his school to the finals and 2nd place overall that day. On the car ride home, Tensei was lost in his thoughts.

“...Tensei? Did you hear me?”

He snapped out of it “Huh?! No, sorry! What did you say mom?”

“I asked if you wanted McDonalds” repeated his Mother.

“Oh...yes please”

His mother turned into the street of the McDonalds their family frequents.

“You’re not as excited as I thought you might’ve been” his mother waited to say until after they ordered “What happened mijo?”

Tensei sighed “I am happy and psyched to get our school into nationals again. And this win is a pretty good note to end on...but should I stop here?”

“Oh I see, you don’t want to quit the team huh?”

“Yeah! And things are making me want to stay” Tensei gushed “Like, coach wants me to be club senpai AND Waseda has me on their radar! Too good to pass up but I want to get started on my quirk training for hero school. I’m not sure if I can juggle everything for my third year.”

They pulled up to the pick up window.

“As a mother, I want to tell you to do the right thing and sacrifice one thing to help you focus” His mother started “But as the chaotic, over-achiever, ‘fuck you, don’t tell me what to do!’ personality I am... Fuckin do it all! Flex on everyone and be THAT bitch. I believe in you.”

Tensei wasn’t expecting that from his own mother “Huh? How is being in a band, being club senpai and hero training flexing on them?”

“Did you listen to yourself saying that sentence?! That sounds cool as hell!” giggled his mother “I’ve gone through all the juggling in my school years and turned out as this absolute beast! Before I married your father I was one of the most powerful women in Japan already with my status as a top agent, college degree and CEO of my security robot company. I didn’t have to get married and start a family Tensei...but I wanted nothing more than to have a family of my own. And I did! All without giving up a single thing, now I’m THE most powerful woman in all of Japan, would you want to mess with a married woman that’s not only smarter, stronger, richer and has four kids?”

Tensei shook his head in fear “If you put it in perspective like that, I would be scared to be on your bad side. With all those titles, it feels like you can make me disappear in a snap.”

“Now imagine yourself! Tensei Oro Iida: Musician, Lawyer and Hero. Serving justice in and out of the court in the day, playing a gigs in the night!”

“Hmmm, that does sound pretty cool” Tensei receives the bag of food on his lap “You really think I can do it?”

“OH I know you can!” his mother exited out of the drive thru and towards home “You’re my son, my children are capable of the impossible.”

That filled Tensei with motivation to juggle all those titles. 

But meanwhile, the girls are having a girls night at Petti’s place.

“Oh my! Is this you guys?” gushed Twinkle at the framed photo in the living room “You were so tiny! In your little dresses and with your dads!”

Hanaka looked over Twinkle’s shoulder “Your dad kept this picture framed Petti? This was so long ago!”

“Nya! It’s the only nice picture we took ‘member?” Kyanka giggled as she flopped onto the couch “We threw a temper tantrum so bad that we lost control of our quirks.”

“Ah yes, good times” reminisced Petti as she brought out the snacks “My dad kept that one framed because it was the one time I willingly put on a dress and smiled.” She pointed to the other pictures on the wall “You can see in the other ones that I wear alt-core and scowl.”

Twinkle looked at the other pictures as the other girls ate snacks. 

“If you don’t mind me asking” Twinkled started off “Where’s your mother Petti?”

Kyanka and Hanaka stopped their snacking to turn to Petti. They know that she doesn’t respond well to that question and braced themselves in case she activates her Dark Shadow.

“My mom? She’s not in the picture sadly” sighed Petti, surprisingly calm “Dad tells me I was abandoned at his door as an egg. And she never returned to get to know me, so it’s just been my dad and I. Dad doesn’t have family either.”

“Oh I’m sorry I brought it up!”

“No it’s alright! I’m okay telling you” smiled Petti “Like, my dad tries really hard to raise me right. But it’s tough being a single dad and hero! Hanaka’s mom is basically my mother figure and I ask her all my girl questions that I don’t want to ask my dad.” She looks at the her cup of pink drink “I really want to meet my mom someday though. I have her eye color, skin tone and quirk trigger according to my dad. So I get my hot-headed nature from her and I kinda wish I got her normal face and not a bird head! But I don’t have an idea where she could be.”

“That’s so wholesome of you” Twinkle got teary-eyed “I hope you do get to meet your mom. Maybe when we become heroes, you’ll have the resources to find her!”

“That’s the goal” Petti stretched her back “Hopefully she’d want to be in my life at that point, I like to think that she just doesn’t like children.”

Hanaka spoke up “Now that I think about it, all of us look to my mom as their mother figure.”

“But aren’t your parents are together Kyanka?” questioned Twinkle.

“My mom old as hell” blurted Kyanka “How my dad got suckered into getting with an older woman is beyond me, nya. But she’s always away for hero work with the Wild Wild Pussycats, so I ask Hanaka’s mom for girl advice too. She’s a good woman but I wish she’d just, retire and act her age” sighed the cat girl as she flexed her paws “I may not show it, but I’m scared that with her age and not being in her prime anymore, she’s going to die on the job. It’s scary to think about it and I can’t do anything to stop her from going to work. That’s why I want to be a hero, so I can take her place as a rescue hero, making her retire.”

Twinkle was bawling at this point “Such noble causes! You guys are making me miss my mama.”

“Oh geez, get it together girl” Petti stands up “I’ll get you some tissues.”

“Yea, noble causes” Hanaka repeated aloud, making her pause to think “I don’t really have a reason to be a hero. Other than I can and have the means to do so, my parents never made me do something because of our status or family name.” She looked in the reflection of her cup “I don’t really know what I’m good at. Tensei got all the talent and smarts, I have the quirks and good genes.”

“Aww don’t compare yourself with your twin again” Petti said as she walked in with a fistful of tissues “You’re talented in your own way.”

“Oh yea? Name one thing- THAT ISN’T QUIRK RELATED!” Hanaka huffed.

Petti handed the loose tissues to Twinkle “Easy! You’re charismatic, people think you’re cute and go all mushy and do things for you with little interaction.”

“Ooh! You have a good sense of distance” Kyanka blurted “With just a glance, you know how far something is. AND you’re always quick to help out with things, even if you’re not sure if you’re a good fit for the job! ‘member when you volunteered to do the food stall in 1st year?”

Twinkle blew her nose “You’re a good friend! You integrated me into your group and share your food with me. And from the stories Kyanka and Petti tell, you’re always the first one to start things, a natural leader!”

Hanaka was touched “Aww guys, you’re too much!”

“Can you guys not cry at my house?!” Petti tossed a loose tissue at Hanaka “Seriously! I’m trying to chill with the girls, not get all sappy.”

Not too much time passes and it’s graduation season! Of course the ones graduating are Lili and Iwata from their respected institues. Everyone is home for the holidays and decisions have to be made.

“What’s up with you two?” Lili asked as she looked up from her phone “Usually something would be on fire and it’s too quiet for having a full house. What is going on?”

Hanaka and Tensei were face down in the middle of the living room.

“Shh, they’re communicating” Iwata teased “But deadass, why are you guys so quiet?”

Tensei lifted his head to speak “I’m tired as hell! Mom got me on her training regime and my legs are refusing to work.”

Hanaka flipped over “Ow! And Dad had me do so much reading that my brain hurt and eyes burn.”

“Oh man, I remember those days” sighed Lili with a smile “The mental and physical pain of hero training. Aren’t you glad you’re done with all that Iwee?”

“Yup! Thought I’d never get out of that cycle of pain” Iwata sighed back “Just wait until you realize you’re gay after a series of weird events happen.”

“But that part was my favorite!” beamed Lili.

Hanaka furrowed her brow “That sounds like a you thing. We actually have friends.”

“We have friends too!”

“Yea, the ones you’re dating and are going to marry someday!”

Lili and Iwata tried to think of a rebuttal but their little sister was right.

“ANYWAYS! How prepared are you guys for the entrance exam?” Lili asked.

Tensei groaned “Man, I forgot about that! Why can’t we just, take a written exam like a normal school.”

“It’s not that bad, come on Tensei” Iwata coaxed his brother to stand up “The telekinesis shit is kinda hard to master. But you can flex what that metal bending quirk can do to those robos!”

“Literally, you two have the upper hand to easily pass” Lili explained “The test hasn’t changed in decades! It’s always the robots and the ‘big boy’ robot is worth 0 points BUT you get rescue points if you either save someone from it’s path or you destroy it out of safety of others.”

“Then why did you two struggle?” asked Tensei, not believing that the exam is that simple.

“We can go fast but our second quirks aren’t power based” Lili snapped her fingers to instantly transform the curtain into a pair of pants “imagine that but in battle! The most useful thing I’ve done is make netting and a hot air balloon to transport my classmates! I had to learn certain fighting styles and have multiple support items for me to be on par with everyone else.”

Iwa levitated everything in the living room “And I can do all the floaty things but I’m not like mom, where I can crush things with my mind!” he throws a pillow with force at a wall “that’s my ‘force’ with my quirk, yea it helps me fly for a short amount of time but I wasn’t strong enough to stop a robot from attacking me when I was entering UA.”

Hanaka flails her arms “Okay okay I get it! We’re stronger by default! Put me down now!”

“Oof forgot you don’t like getting levitated” Iwata quickly set everything down “But please don’t feel so helpless, we’d kill to have the advantages you two have.”

The twins faced at each other and exchanged looks.

“If you say so” sighed Tensei “Then I guess we’re ready.”

“YAY!” the older siblings cheered and did the little quick claps.

“Don’t clap and cheer! We’re not babies!” barked the twins.

Just out of sight were their parents, looking on at the sight of their children being their usual selves.

“It was getting too quiet around here” whispered Tenya as he hugged his wife from behind “I feel complete.”

“Enjoy it while you can love” Ita whispered back “Our nest is going to be empty sooner than you think!” She gave her husband a quick kiss “Okay ninos, visitas are at the gates. The living room should be nice and tidy! I got the curtains special made for this year’s theme!”

The kids glanced at the pants that were once the curtains and then to the disorganized furniture, shit!

“Okay mom we’ll fix the living room!” Iwa spoke up “No need to come in here and check! You go and greet the guests!”

Lili frantically fixed the pants-curtains as the twins fixed the couch cushions and Iwa floated everything back to the original layout. Just like when they were younger.

With new confidence and old support, suddenly the new part of the twin’s lives isn’t so scary. 

-Chapter 4, End-

<Previous - Next>

[chaos-in-the-making]

They meandered across the countryside of Japan for a week, watching the landscape change below them. They crossed mountains and over falls, through rocky gorges where the land had rolled away to rockslides, burying villages without care. The land changed from spotted browns to bright green, to grey tipped by white. Everywhere they went was new and exciting, and Rin had the time of her life. She knew leaving the village had been the right decision. There was so much world out here!

The first night they came down to earth and settled in a sheltered wooded area for the night, Rin scuttled about to make a camp for herself, nervous and shaky for the moment of being alone with Lord Sesshoumaru. She had asked where Jaken was, but had received a cryptic answer. He was "waiting" for them. That meant Sesshoumaru likely had a destination in mind. Rin decided not to worry, and made a fire and tea and dinner for herself. Lord Sesshoumaru still did not eat her food, but he took the tea she offered.

[[MORE]]

Being alone together brought a new set of problems. As the hours wore on and darkness fell, she wondered what Lord Sesshoumaru would do. Would he join her in her blanket? Would he settle her down on his fur? Rin had expected him to make his wants known, but the demon merely gazed up at the stars as if entranced.

"Get some sleep, Rin," he finally said. "We have a long way to go."

Realizing nothing between them would happen that night, Rin dejectedly doused the fire and rolled up into her blanket. But she didn't cry. She wouldnt ever cry! She would just have to pluck up her courage and try again tomorrow.

Another day passed. And another. The land swept by, and they stopped to see the sights. Breathtaking cliffs. Glistening rivers. Towering castles where lords and ladies lived. These Lord Sesshoumaru took them around, but even seeing them from a distance set Rin's imagination on fire. Wherever he was taking them, they were in no hurry, so Rin settled into the routine and enjoyed the trip.

The sixth day they came to a secluded valley, with sweeping mountain sides covered in flowering trees, and a river cutting through it. For everywhere they had been, Rin felt this was the most beautiful place. She stared in wonder as they flew, and only came to realize they were descending towards a castle, built on a slope where it was defended on two sides by the mountain and overlooked the valley. They alighted together in the courtyard, and Jaken came scurrying out from the big doors, squeaking in earnest that his lord had returned. Rin looked around her, but it was clear that the castle was abandoned.

"What happened to the inhabitants?" She asked Sesshoumaru.

"They fled," he replied, in a voice that said he would not elaborate. Rin understood. He had chased them out.

She felt a little bad for them, but she couldn't go looking for them to give the castle back, so she followed Jaken around and looked over the kitchen, the washing rooms, the fully stocked larder, and the bedrooms. The gardens were her favorite, well cultivated by loving hands. Sesshoumaru said they would stay there for the time being, and it had everything Rin would need, including a vegetable garden, and chickens and a goat for eggs and fresh milk. She was absolutely delighted with the castle, and even imagined herself as a fine lady as she made tea that evening. There had been a brand new kimono, in bronze and blue colors, waiting for her in the bedroom that was hers.

Hers. But she wasn't sure if it was his as well. Sesshoumaru had still said nothing on the matter. Had not so much as touched her, though she had felt his gaze every night when she would lie down to sleep. She couldn't decide if he was interested in her as a woman or not. But now that they were staying together, she was determined to find out.

That afternoon she made herself a delicious meal with the salted pork, vegetables, and flour in the kitchen. She took it all upstairs to the dining room and set the table for herself and Lord Sesshoumaru, though she knew he wouldn't eat. It was inclusive, and made her happy to see a tea cup set for him. He arrived not long after she was finished, and he settled down across from her, nodding his thanks when she poured the tea. They passed the meal with Rin chattering away at him, the way she used to as a child. She gave him an update on all the village children, and when Kagome and Inuyasha had started living together. He listened without comment, but his attention never wavered. Even when Rin settled into silence, it was a familiar atmosphere.

After dinner she cleaned up and left the dishes for the morrow. Then she wandered about the garden by herself, wondering how she would approach Sesshoumaru with her proposal. It was clear that she may have to be the one to initiate. Lord Sesshoumaru was too noble to say, or do, anything so crass as to bluntly state what should happen! Yes, she was decided. Rin turned her steps to her bedroom and changed into her white sleep robe, and opened the doors to the balcony.

The view was breathtaking. The moon was high and bright, shining over the ancient oaks below. She was staring so hard that for a moment she didn't even notice someone was sitting close by. She jumped, but placed a hand on her chest as she recognized the long silver hair, and white pants. Sesshoumaru had removed his armor, and he looked relaxed leaning on one knee. Rin sat beside him, close but not touching. They didnt speak to one another, but watched the moon rise.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Rin said softly after some time. "I can't think of a more beautiful place."

There was a breath of silence, then Sesshoumaru replied. "I chose it for the sunrise."

Rin glanced over in surprise. How long ago had Lord Sesshoumaru planned to bring her here? Had he been searching for the right place all these years?

"I love sunrises," she smiled, scooting closer. "I hope I will be awake to see it."

There. Her suggestion lay suspended between them. She could hardly breath, wondering if Sesshoumaru had taken the hint. She ached inside, a pain of longing to be wanted. She suddenly felt frightened, her stomach making uncomfortable waves. What if he rejected her? What if she made a mistake?

A gentle hand brushed her hair behind her ear, and Rin realized she had been clutching her eyes closed. She opened them to see Sesshoumaru looking at her. His gaze was warm and understanding. Smiling in relief, Rin laid her head on his shoulder, daring to scoot even closer. The heat of his body soaked through his kimono. She took a deep breath in, letting her nerves settle. She could do this.

"I like being here," she said softly, slipping her hand into his.

"It is many hours until the sunrise." His voice washed over her like a summer breeze. "Would you like to go to bed, Rin?"

The question seemed so innocent, but loaded with meaning. Rin straightened in shock, looking straight into his eyes to make sure it really was the right question. There, in those golden depths, she saw the desire she craved.

"Oh! I thought you would never ask!" She cried, throwing her arms around him, her body pressed firmly against his for the first time. She was so happy, she didn't care what a scene she was making. His arms were around her waist, and she had never felt so at home. Rin started to pull back and laugh in embarrassment, but he caught her neck and pulled her in, and then they were kissing beneath the moon, and everything was perfect.

Rin wasn't sure how long his mouth was on hers, but she was just beginning to feel hot in her robe when Sesshoumaru picked her up and carried her to the futon. There she got everything she longed for and more. Nothing was as satisfying as being wrapped in those powerful arms, feeling his heart against hers. Rin thought she could die happy now.

The dawn came with soft blue and pink skies, a gentle blush to wake the lovers, almost apologetically. They were curled up together on the balcony, covered only by Sesshoumaru's large kimono, blinking as the sun broke over the valley. Rin thought there was nothing so beautiful in all the world as that first morning with her Lord.

[gettingthatyellowjaundice]

Eugene tastes of sorrow when Snafu kisses him in the hot rain of Peking, his teeth sharp and the memory of blood still caught in his skin, in his shadow, in the places where he ought to be clean but isn’t. Ain’t nobody clean anymore, not a single damn one of them. They been dirtied, sinned in the eyes of god and heaven and laid their arms down and wept in the mud, only they didn’t, they didn’t, they went on marching and killing and none of them ever repented, Snafu least of all, because maybe god never existed in the first place and it was all a lie, every last word of it, there wasn’t ever anything greater than man, and ain’t it all a big fucking joke, Sledgehammer? Ain’t that all it’s ever been?

No, says Eugene, no, you’re wrong, and there are tears in his voice because he still believes in god despite everything, still believes there was a reason for all that death, for the children who cried in the night over their mommas’ dead bodies, blood trickling down their tiny throats.  There is a heaven and there is a hell and we did what we were meant to do, Snaf, he insists, and Snafu kisses him harder, until he tastes blood of a different kind than in the war, and Eugene falls into him, his limbs useless, his breathing soft.

“You ought to come home with me,” He says, “Ought to get a place out by the river and we’ll buy a dog and sleep together at night, just you and I, and no one else in all the word, and we’ll forget the war -” “It don’t work that way."

But Eugene does not stop, his face frantic in the rain, like he’s running out of time for something he’s got to do, like he’s fixing to die, only Snafu wants to tell him it’s over, we lived we lived, we weren’t meant to live but goddamnit all we did. But Eugene's hands are desperate, his eyes are bright, he’s saying we’ll go away somewhere nobody’ll ever see us again and we’ll have the stars and the summer heat and each other and we’ll swim every morning and you’ll throw your Jap teeth in a ravine and I’ll stop writin’ in my bible and the blood will fall from our skin like water oh god Snafu can’t you see, why can’t you see.

“Hush, hush,  ain’t no use in dreamin’,” Snafu says, but it’s as if Eugene don’t hear him, the way he goes on in that breathless, dying way. So he sinks his teeth into Eugene’s lips and pulls him down with him onto wet ground, their knees brushing together as they fall, and Snafu buries his face in the sweep of Eugene’s neck and closes his eyes, the image of that wild, youthful face burnt into him - the rain pouring down the bridge of Eugene’s nose, eyes near delirious, his words all blurring together into one until Snafu couldn’t hardly tell one from the other, until in the end they didn’t mean a thing, nothing at all, except: I love you. That’s all Eugene had been trying to say, he realizes, all that had to be said before they parted maybe forever, maybe for the last time. Nothing more than that, nothing greater, just a confession in the end. 

“Oh, Hammer, didn’t your mama teach you sodomy is a sin?” “So is killing. So is everythin’ we’ve done.”

He mutters a muffled curse into Eugene’s rain-soaked shoulder, because Eugene’s right, what’s one more blasphemy, one more sin, after all they’ve done? They’re all goin’ to hell, every man on earth, except maybe for the saints and the children, so they ought to love while they’re still alive, ought not to try to be cautious and try to be good and try to be clean. And suddenly he feels he’s never been less sure about anything than he is now, doesn’t know what he wants or what is right, if there ever was such thing as right and wrong or if he and Eugene ought to stay like this forever, their bodies pressed close in an alleyway in China where no one will see the way two men hold one another like lovers, time moving neither forwards or backward, only caught forever in a tropical storm where Eugene is close and warm. 

“I hate you, Eugene,” He whispers, something raw and open in his throat, like the pulsing wound of war. “Wish I’d never known you.”

Eugene scrapes a stray hair back from his face with a shaking hand, “You don’t mean that.”

And Snafu says nothing, his heart on his tongue, an old grief filling him to the edges of what he is and where he ends. He can’t give Eugene what he wants, the softness Eugene imagines still lingers somewhere inside of him, can’t tell him: it’s gone, Gene. I lost it to the wet, cold mouth of Okinawa, to Peleliu in the sun, to Gloucester, Japan, America, the war, hatred. I haven’t got anything left to give you. You want so much but it isn’t there anymore.

He pulls away, his head bowed against the wind, rubs his thumb over Eugene’s knuckles once more, for good luck, for love, and says very quietly: “It don’t matter. Ain’t to be, boo, none of it.”

[gav-san]

White as the Driven Snow

-Wash-

1/7

------

You wondered how long it had been since you had seen the sky. Or breathed fresh air (and not the sharp ventilated afterbite of it). It was too long since you held felt the prickly blades grass between your toes or the wind fluttering your hair. Too long since you had seen the sun.

Your skin had once held a rosy glow but now was reduced to a sickly shade. This seemed supremely ironic as being locked away underground was supposed to prevent the grime and grit that the world above offered. But like a child picking up a dirty lollipop of the street, some things couldn't be prevented by you alone. Not that you would scream. No one would hear you, and at this point, you wondered if anyone good was even looking.

Your mother never exactly revealed why you weren’t allowed to meet her side of the family (totally understandable in retrospect), and your dad had been remarried after your mother’s death. Now all of that growing apart and not calling much was going to get you killed. 

But even if your life had been truly unfair in many respects, there were a lot of good things going on. You were in your second year of college, part of your college’s cheer squad, famous for performing at the UA sports festival, and had lots of friends.

This was not the slightest bit fair.

The slightest uncareful sound from your lips could cause these monsters to descend again, but not for any rational sort of torture. These masked creatures with false beaks were a special sort of savage. Clean wasn’t good enough for the plague doctors.

You needed to be spotless. Pure.

Ever since they had invaded the safety of your home, kidnapping you, all they murmured about was making you pure enough.

You hated that word.

You weren’t sure what the correct definition of Pure meant, but you soon got a dark idea of what it entailed.

Stolen, you had imagined many horrors. Human trafficking was not common in Japan, but it did happen. Girl shackled to beds, placed on drugs so they could neither escape mentally or physically. The plush doctor’s office didn't entirely fulfill that morbid fantasy. And upon waking, it took hours to connect the dots. Not until the female doctor with a large wart on her cheek gave you the worst surprise appointment of your life, did you fully realize how twisted the situation was. You didn't speak, trying to pick up on any fragment of conversation.

But all you heard were mutters of Overhaul, requests, Hassaikai, and those meant nothing to you.

Strapped up by one of the ‘expendables’ as they called themselves, you were subjected to several cosmetic procedures, some dangerous, teetering between being vaguely awake and unconscious. You finally break, begging for an explanation, and receive none, just a gag accompanied by a breathing mask. The woman examined you from head to toe, removing moles, and just so much touching. Lasik, teeth whitening, minor surgery, freckle removal, chemical peels, and microdermabrasion. She probably had some sort of medical quirk, because you should not have been able to do so much so quickly. Any hair specifically not on your head was lasered off, and your skin scrubbed and polished with creams that removed any hint of spots or blemishes.

The last memory in that awful office was of a large needle, and finally, through the cloth in your mouth, did you screech.

You awoke out of the drugged stupor with breathing mask strapped on you. No longer strapped down you quickly sat up, but didn't tear it off. You could feel the heaviness in your chest, and waited a long while, trying to take in your surroundings before doing anything rash. Your mother, long paranoid of some monster sweeping you away, had taught you to remain calm in an emergency. The long white dress you are in is light, and cool air pierces it easily from the air conditioning in the ceiling. The bed is screwed to the ground, and so you can't even adjust it away from the airflow.

The whitewashed room was small, featureless save for a large TV embedded behind glass in the far wall. The bare outline of a door was next to it, and it looked so much like a mental ward that panic did fill you. What had happened? Surely you had never done anything to warrant this! You tried to think of what had happened... Your last memory wasn't so clear, just you sitting at the dorm room kitchen counter, eating cereal. There was a knock on the door, strange as most people are on spring break. Perhaps a roommate got locked out? You opened the door, and then it was nothing... just black.

Clarity and an explanation don't come quickly.

Your only link to the outside world is the instructions that occasionally flash on the TV.

EAT. Meals appear on cue, painfully scanty and light.

SLEEP. The bare light on the ceiling goes out.

EXERCISE. You are not a lazy person. You had been on the Mustafar University Cheer team, taking tumbles, dancing and flirting riotously at events. But they don't care about your muscles and refusals. They want you thin, not fit. With a diet that rivaled celebrities and daily exercise routines, your body became slender and lean.

The day SHOWER appeared on the screen, you were perplexed. They had left you to sit in your filth and sweat for days, so the change in routine was sharp.

You didn’t have a shower in the room, and so the moment the door opened you got a real look at the monsters who moonlighted your nightmares.

It's another woman, with ugly, bulbous eyes and arms that twisted into tentacles as the elbow. Someone who would be bullied. Some quirks were worse than none. An ugly retort was on your tongue but as she lumbered forward, something black and viscous dripping from her body, you zipped your lips shut. A large, bird mask lay on her features, the beak twisted and unfriendly, like a toucan with a disease.

Down flat empty halls with no windows, she led you to a bathroom contained the most high-powered torture device spray possible. Brutal water pressure and you discovered one of the guards was female, as she was the one who forced you in, sprayed you down, and stuck soap all over you, all while telling you how fortunate you were. Apparently, your mother happened to be the second child of a prominent mobster, and the current head was looking for someone in the family to marry and continue the bloodline. You earned a slap when you suggested that your dog was still single. She told you since you were quirkless, you might as well be a dog.

You didn’t know how much more you could take. Any more showers and ritualistic cleanings by people with gruesome quirks who refused to look at you for long, only scrubbing when you have been insufficiently rubbed raw.

The smell of disinfectant and whatever was in the awful shampoo was all you smelled anymore, and they used something similar for laundry, done daily, if not more often. Was there a thing as too clean? You had never been dirty but this was an obsession. They were a cult of cleaning fanatics, and your body was their fixation. The mere white dress was your only article of clothing.

Even if you still had the strength to fight, the red reminder on your skin still stung from the decontamination chamber (what as you had named it). The tips of your fingers were still shriveled and pruned from grabbing the bottom of the shower. There was no more fight on you tonight, just the little desire to sleep.

Which is why you almost broke into sobs when the door opened again. She was back.

“The boss is coming tonight for final evaluation. We need to finish making you presentable.” 

“How  thoughtful.”

“Watch your mouth. Overhaul has little patience, and even if you share blood with the old boss, he will finish you himself.” She didn’t slap you. Instead, she just gazed at you with dark, hateful eyes.

“Is that his name then?  Overhaul?”  This earned a smack.

“You will treat Master Overhaul as a god. For all intents and purposes, he is one.” She carefully wrapped you in one of her clean tentacles. You didn’t get the heavy bath treatment, and you realized that she was being unusually considerate as she ushered your down endless long hallways. At the end of one, she opened a door and your eyes widened. 

Did it look like... a beauty parlor? In a mafia hideout? 

Not totally new, but spotless, and utterly white like everything else. There was a nervous-looking woman there to transform you was in all white as well. You looked at her, and she turned away, unable to look you in the eye. You turned to a mirror and didn't question why.

“Make her pretty. Try not to use much makeup. The boss has no patience for unclean things, so nothing with a heavy scent either.”

The technician went to work. There was the first hint of color as she opened her bag, glorious colors of tan, orange, brown and off white. The fierce smell of a beauty salon escaped and for a moment you were outside again. It made the next bit bearable, the part where she painted you, fixed your hair, and made your look alive. Unwilling to drag the terrified looking technician further into the delusion, you didn’t fight her. 

As she finished curling your hair, you glanced at the mirror, to see how she had done. What you had seen in the mirror for twenty years was gone, replaced by an almost photoshopped version of you. Real people didn’t look so strange. It wasn’t you.

A huge wave of nostalgia and misery hit you, bringing tears to your eyes. You desperately wanted your couch, sitting and watching some reruns of CSI or something normal. You just wanted to be normal again, eat ramen and wear your hair in a ponytail and enjoy the sun. Now pretty, clean and polished, you were given another white dress, this one much more fitted than the smock you had been in. Forced into the snug creation you were dragged to the last room.

You weren’t this woman in the mirror. You didn’t diet to be this thin or have hair this color or have eyelashes this long. This was a lie. And after the tears subsided, your only slim comfort was that it would be over soon. It was coming, the moment you couldn't do it anymore.

Mob blood withstanding, you were a bit mouthy, and that never boded well for you around people who had large egos. You had already lost several jobs and were barely funding your college tenure with your latest one at a bookstore. Well... had. It was just so unfair. 

A bitter thought kept coming to you, over and over. 

Where were the heroes?

The tentacle around you tightened.

“Don’t cry. I’ll get angry if you mess it up.” You sniffed, anger coursing through you. Who did these people think they were? If you were going down, you decided that they were all coming with you.

  The end of the line was one last room, generously sized, but filled. Rushed in by the tentacle woman, you still had time to see the final set-up. There were several other women here, all dressed the same as you. Each with their own handlers, each looking upset and panicked as the situation rightfully called for, each sitting tied to a chair, hands tied behind them. They looked to you, eyes wide and fearful, and you gazed back, understanding and upset.

You were led to the end, the last seat available, and forced into the same position. And then the entire group waited, and not a single soul uttered a word. Their handlers had beaten obedience into them. Well, for the moment.

The slowly growing dread that was starting to eat away at your nerves, and it was only a matter of time. Someone finally broke down, the girl with pink hair at the other end, a sob erupting. It was followed by a hard slap, and the sounds of a rag being stuffed in her mouth. She choked on the vile cloth, but finally managed to calm down, her 'handler' swearing viciously at the mess. 

Ten minutes passed.

Twenty minutes. Two more girls broke. They both received a rag in their mouths.

Thirty minutes. 

Fourt-

 The door opened.

 In a world rife with quirks that deform and mutate it isn’t unusual to see people who are suffering from the backlash of horrendous deformation and downright disability. It was almost as common as not for someone to be born with pink or green hair, then just brown or blonde. You hadn't given much thought to who are the monsters behind this desecration of women is, but you are sure he is no catch. How could someone who is so merciless to a potential wife be anything but ugly?

The other girls are curious as well, and you see eyes struggling to stay down. But caution is hardly going to help at this point, so you glance up. And before your head is shoved down, into your knees, you catch a glimpse of a pale face, delicate shaped, and exquisite amber eyes pointed away in disgust. Your chest feels an uncomfortable weight as you realize that not only ugly men are monsters. Even handsome men with glossy, golden eyes can be them, and the color sticks in your eyes, burning them. It’s not even an uncommon color, yet paired with black lashes and a narrowed expression, they appeared to be glowing. All of this is topped off with a bird mask.

No, you tell yourself, this must be the son of the man.

After a moment your thoughts return, enough to hear the sound of the man's measured steps, hurried and impatient. They come near, examining each downturned head, and you wonder if he can even see your faces. You can only see the faint image of your plucked face in his shiny leather shoes that appear in your downturned vision. You faintly register a second pair of shoes that follow, light as a child, but don’t see anyone.

“Repulsive. They’re all filthy.” He says, and you realized that this is the boss. There's no mistaking it. This was the guy with the phobia. It shocks you, as mob bosses were never this young, handsome or disgusting... right?

You don’t know his age, but his voice can’t be over thirty. It's something from a well to do accountant, not firm and deep like an evil All Might, but almost cracking and boyish. But such a mild voice wasn’t running off numbers. Just contemplating just how unworthy you all were. Obviously, the group hasn’t made a good showing. You can’t bring yourself to care anymore. All rational emotion has left you discontent, and needing a drink of water.

A high voice answers the boss, some lacky, probably with a crap quirk.

“These are the best we could find. Each is from an aligned mafia family, and most are quirkless. If not, well, that’s always fixable.”

One of the girls sobs through the napkin in her mouth, and you can imagine the anger in his glowing topaz eyes.

“You think any of these creatures are worthy of being next to me. Look at them. They are shaking. A disobedient woman is just as bad as a being  unclean.” The boss says flatly. "Where's Chronostasis-"

A monster with a cleaning disorder, and a bigot. He's talking like it's your fault, that you were here by choice, and your chest fills with a disdainful, mocking swearword. Unable to contain your utter vitriol as the absurd conversation, you wheeze out a  laugh. Well, at least it wasn’t the swearword, you think fatefully.

The room goes deathly quiet.

The other women are quiet, knowing you have just signed your death warrant, the first of the day. The leather shoes had retreated out of sight, but the sound of them returning is ominous. Not only that but the hand on the back of your head has twisted you forward painfully. She's very upset, you guess. The position is bad, and your lungs struggle to function properly. Tears pool in your eyes, and the makeup in coming off. Your hands strain, trying to escape the bounds. Your accompanying cough does nothing to improve your case. If there was ever a sign of uncleanliness, you’ve displayed it. Perhaps all those freezing cold showers had, ironically, gotten you sick.

One moment you are coughing to death, the next you are on the ground, the chair under you cracking into a million pieces. The surprise takes the air out of your lungs, and you manage to stop coughing. Your hands are freed, though still tied together, and wood in poking your back. Your dress rides up dangerously to your thighs.

None of this matters as much as the hands that are firmly around your throat. Small ones. For on top of you is what looks like a stuffed puppet come to life, a bird mask attached to his front. The top of the beak is dangerously positioned over your throat, weirdly strong for being a puppet. You laugh again, hysterical, and he drags your throat up.

“How  dare you insult Overhaul!” He says, and you slowly blink the mascara away, senseless.

The puppet turns up, glowering. The tentacle woman is in trouble. 

“Who is this creature who you have brought?!?!” The masked woman is pressed against the wall, sweat pooling around her face. Her tentacle hands are gripping the wall. “We  instructed you to only bring the best!” His hand is getting tighter, and your already strained breathing is getting even harder.

“She’s the old bosses granddaughter, from his estranged second daughter.” The woman whispers, frightened to death.

There's an audible pause. 

  “Mimic. Don’t kill her just yet.” The voice of the boss says, breaking the silence. The hand around your throat loosens, just a touch.

“She’s..." The words seem to fail the creature named Mimic. "Her? His granddaughter? The one?”

The handler nodded, and Mimic's hand is suddenly gone from your throat. You breathe in that overly sterile air, unsure of what had just happened. Had you been saved from death? You slowly sit up, coughing violently in your sleeve, and once the attack is over, you look around you.

The other girls and their handlers are gone.

Before you is a pair of black slacks, and you can see the expensive fabric he's wearing, though his ankles are bare between his white shoes and the pants. Your eyes trail up, slowly taking in the man before you, hitting the thick brown belt, hands in white gloves, a green parka with a purple color, until you see a mask that belongs 1656 and resolutely look down. You don't want to see his eyes again.

You have the undivided attention of Overhaul, who is giving you a similar appraisal, taking in the softness of your mouth, a slender tilt of your shoulders, the curve of your waist under the dress.

You wondered if he would lift his foot and crush your skull in himself, or if he saved that sort of thing for his cronies. 

A hand reaches out and not aware enough, you don't flinch. The plastic glove encasing his hand brushes your cheek, coming away with black and tan makeup. He brings it up to examine it himself, putting two fingers together to rub the colors together.

"My apologies. I didn't realize that you had come." You aren't sure what to say to such unhinged civility he provided. "It looks as though your stay here has been less than what is demanded."

You aren't looking up, so you don't see that his gaze has turned away from you, twisting to the woman on the wall behind you. You don't even realize it's happened until it's over. One moment the mob boss is standing before you, the next he has moved beside you, hand clutching the handler who had done little to gain your favor. But you don't realize that your silence is enough to sentence her.

You look over just in time to see him holding her.

As his hand squeezes the trainer’s face the woman just...  explodes.

Blood, organs, and sick flesh litter the room behind him, and your eyes widen in disbelief and disgust. Red drops hit your white dress and your feet move before you can think. Fear floods you, the ache in your back fades to a thrum as you scramble up, standing next to the door, trying to open it. It is shut like it never was meant to be opened in the first place. You glance back to him as he is straitening his stance, looking furiously animalistic at the mess he has made.

But upon hearing your cry of fear, the sound of your nails against the door he seems to regain sense.

He straightens, walking forward to the door, his one, plastic-covered hand placed on it. He's boxed you in, and you are forced to stare at his mask, refusing to look in his eyes. Never look into the eyes of a wild animal.

"It seems as though you will need some adjustments. Your mother has done you a disfavor." He doesn't explain himself, just raising a bloody hand to raise your chin. You don’t break into tears, just close your jaw so your teeth stop chattering, refusing to look him in his eyes. You can see that perhaps it's not just a mental disorder, as his skin has broken out into hives where the blood has touched, red angry boils that marr his pretty face.

He puts a plastic-encased finger to your lips. Nothing happens. 

“Acceptable. If just  barely .” It’s a threat and a promise rolled into a proposal you couldn’t refuse. 

Read more at https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353212/chapters/50860795

[stephanericherthanyou]

happy aokise day!

title: long since sailed rating: t word count: 2036 summary: ao3

Aomine’s used to doing things before he thinks of them. He moves to the basket before he sees the route; his legs take him up to the school roof before he thinks of going there; he rips words out of his own mouth before he can realize how much he’ll regret the thought. It’s not always an advantage, but he always comes out even, despite having to take a detour or two sometimes. Aomine still gets there. It’s compensation, maybe, for all that’s come easy to him.

He can show restraint, when he thinks, when everything isn’t going at two hundred kilometers an hour all around him and he has to go that speed or faster himself. He doesn’t always have to, but he does sometimes, and he’ll bite the worst things off his tongue before he says them, or even the harmless retorts. When he lets himself be, he’s conscious of his impulses (or, perhaps more often, when he can’t help it). 

His right hand twitches, and he knows he wants to lift it up and put it on Kise’s shoulder, or reach out and touch Kise’s hand, but he knows he’s stopping himself, too. What’s wrong with just doing it? Kise could use the consolation, and he wouldn’t take it as pity. He’d know that Aomine knows how unfair this last game is, after the shitty unfair result of the last game when Kise had given his all (even more than he’d been able to do against Aomine in perfect health, just a month ago). Kise knows it, and so do his teammates, and so do all the Shutoku guys. 

Basketball is a fickle game. The two of them know this better than most people. By the time Aomine resolves to just reach out and touch Kise’s shoulder, the moment is past, and Kise’s off on his crutches, headed toward the section with his teammates to watch Seirin and Rakuzan, and Aomine drops his hand into his pocket.

It was supposed to be there in the first place.

*

They’re drafted ten and eleven in the first round, Aomine first and Kise right behind him. It’s not something Aomine was expecting. Kise can kick his ass one-on-one now, when he’s healthy--and yes, he’s not always healthy, and he doesn’t always win, and the NBA is not a one-on-one league, but still Aomine would have picked Kise first.

He doesn’t tell Kise, but he tells Satsuki, later, when they’re back in the hotel suite and Aomine’s parents are asleep in the other bedroom. 

“Your bias is showing,” says Satsuki, giving him that smile she gives him when she thinks he’s being particularly dense.

“What bias? It’s not like I’m going to tell him that. I don’t want his head to swell up even more.”

“Okay,” says Satsuki.

She’s still looking at him like she can read his fucking mind, which despite her claims, she can’t. They can both read each other pretty damn well, and that’s never not been true, but there are still uncrossed lines and things one of them wouldn’t dare voice or even skirt around. Like the smile on Kise’s face when he’d been picked, the hat hair he’d complained about as he fussed in the mirror that looked so damn cute on him and had made Aomine want to sweep him off his feet and kiss him right there. He’d been looking at Kise the whole time, okay, but that’s just because Kise had been there and had been bugging him about who’d be the first to get a championship and who’d win Rookie of the Year. That’s all. He can be excused a stray thought or two of this kind anyway, on the night he’s drafted into the fucking NBA. 

And even if she does know, there’s nothing more than that.

*

Words can be unthought as much as they can be unsaid, which is not at all. Aomine can’t take back all the things he’s said that have hurt Satsuki or Tetsu or someone else or himself, and he can’t take back the scattered thoughts about how much he’d like to touch Kise’s smooth skin, kiss his pretty lips, tuck a lock of hair behind Kise’s ear, anything that gets through the hand he’s put up in his mind to block it out, the drain cover under the pressure of water. There are more dangerous thoughts than those, deeper and more concrete; he dreams about fucking Kise once and at that point he should maybe just give it up. (The scars on Kise’s knee from surgery, the arch of his back, his heavy-lidded eyes and the tone he says Aomine’s name in--Aomine can’t think of anything else when he jerks off, no matter how much he tries, for a month.)

No one, he decides, would accuse him of having feelings for Kise (except for Satsuki, and they’ve reached an unspoken agreement not to talk about it). He is a remarkable beacon of self-control. He takes Kise out for dinner when they play each other, knocks his knee against Kise’s under the table by accident, needles him about the mistakes he’d made (and takes Kise’s barbed remarks right back). They play in the FIBA Worlds together on team Japan, and sure, the press is making a big deal about the two of them as a combination, but that’s what they’re supposed to do. 

(He gets to watch Kise, healthy and fresh from a summer of training hard, sink gorgeous Js and break through defenders like a knife until he explodes into a decisive dunk that shakes the backboard, feel the ball land in his hands from Kise’s pass because Kise always knows where he is, and dunk it himself, harder and louder and better, as a challenge. This should be enough; this should be more than enough.)

Aomine maybe shouldn’t be drinking this much at the celebration, thinking as much as he is about Kise, Kise’s hands on hsi drink and Kise’s hair in the dim lights, Kise’s laugh, the way he’d squeezed Aomine in his arms after they’d won. Someone had brought up Teikou, and Akashi had changed the subject away, but all Aomine can think of his how Kise used to chase him for a one-on-one, how Kise used to see him alone on the top of the mountain, and how Aomine hated being there, but Kise’s admiration used to make him feel--not better, about it, but different. He likes being on a level plane with Kise, and he wouldn’t trade that for any of the good parts of their middle school days, but he wishes, sometimes, that Kise would look at him like that again.

“Hm? Aominecchi?”

(And Kise still calls him that, but he says it differently now.) 

“I didn’t say anything,” Aomine says, swallowing more of his drink. 

Kise leans in closer, about to press him harder--and then thank fuck for Nebuya, who belches loudly next to them, breaking the moment.

*

Kise misses the road trip to Cleveland with a nagging wrist injury, and it’s a great excuse for Aomine to keep avoiding him. He’s been replying to texts, tagging Kise with dumb shit on social media, but every time he reads and rereads his words and hits backspace and watches it all disappear before he retypes the whole damn thing. He needs to get over this crush, stop living in the past, a ship that’s already long since sailed if it would ever. 

Is it the past when their best basketball is probably ahead of them, when the past always catches up with them, when their social circles now are slightly distorted versions of the social circles they’d had when they were fourteen? Is it the past if these feelings are persistent, when they won’t release Aomine from his grip? He’d try to fixate on someone else, but his gaze just slides past, and he’d sleep with someone else but there’s no one else he really wants to sleep with. 

He can avoid seeing Kise when Kise misses a road trip, but he can’t miss the giant billboard lit up before the sun’s up in the morning, on his commute into the practice facility, emblazoned with Kise’s face and the name of a cologne. He’s pretty enough, known enough, to move products in a town far from where he plays that has sports stars of its own. His hand twitches, like it had back at the Winter Cup all those years ago and before this all felt like a real, comprehensible possibility. He’d wanted to reach out and touch Kise, even then, maybe before.

A voice in his head that sounds quite a bit like Satsuki’s says that he should just do something. He should tell Kise, so that Kise can reject him and maybe that will finally push him toward getting over it. Kise’s dealt with this before; he knows how to do it without wrecking a friendship. But would he pity Aomine for having this stupid crush for so damn long?

He can live with it. He’s an adult.

*

“It’s my win,” says Kise, twirling his keychain around his finger.

“Your team win,” says Aomine. “I scored the most points.”

“Not enough to win,” says Kise. “And you did pay for dinner.”

“So you should be nice to me.” Aomine scowls, pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie.

It’s not really cold out, but he needs something to do other than looking at Kise’s ass in those jeans or listening too hard to the cadences of Kise’s voice, different from the way he speaks to the press or teammates, or, maybe, anyone else. Aomine’s imagining something; he has to be. (If delusions are the way he gets to say it, then it’s worth the embarrassment and stupidity; he knows he’s done stupider things--even recently).

In the dark, Kise’s apartment looks smaller. The shadows of his large ferns block enough of the window that the city outside seems closer, distracts from the length of the matching leather furniture and the clean carpet, free of dust. 

Aomine pours himself a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen before Kise can preempt him and offer him a bottle of expensive mineral water. Neither of them is hurting for money, but the tap water tastes better. There, they’re incompatible; he can give this crush up.

“Aominecchi?”

Aomine turns around. Kise stands in front of the open refrigerator, a bottle of water in his hand.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

Aomine shakes his head, and halfway through he thinks he should have just fucking told Kise, even if that wasn’t what he was asking about.

He falls asleep on the stiff leather couch, still thinking about what he should have done.

*

Aomine wakes up first in the morning as the sun streams in the floor-to-ceiling living room windows, in time to water the plants (and Kise will grumble about the drops of water spilled on the floor, but maybe they’ll evaporate first). He hates sleeping in his clothes, but he won’t sleep in Kise’s--maybe when he says something about the stupid crush, Kise will stop offering. Or maybe he’ll keep it up just to bother Aomine.

When he gets out of the bathroom, Kise’s already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Aomine says, raising a hand to half-wave even though he’s less than a meter away.

Kise’s hair is a little rumpled and his shirt is a little twisted (he always moves around when he sleeps) and he’s squinting at the coffee maker as if its existence doesn’t make sense. 

“Something the matter?”

Kise looks at him, and oh, fuck. Aomine can’t stop his face from contorting.

“Why does your face look like that?”

Aomine reaches up to rub it, too late, but whatever. “Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know,” says Kise.

Aomine leans in and kisses him. Kise’s morning breath is rancid, and Aomine’s own mouth is too dry. He pulls back. 

Kise doesn’t look angry or annoyed, or even fake-annoyed. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but then closes it again. He reaches for Aomine’s hands, then pulls Aomine in closer.

“Me too.”

[volantedesign]

Letter from Japan

It's quiet. It is really really quiet. There's a gentle white noise from the mini split and that's all. We're in Kyoto sleeping on the floor, inhaling the sweet reedy smell of the tatami mats. We're staying in a major metropolis. It's 4 in the morning because I'm still jet-lagged. The doorways are all too short for me. When I stand up on the train I invariably bang my head on the hanging handles, not hard, just enough to surprise myself and to feel foolish. I am enormous here. I forgot to pack walking shoes and bought a men's size, as the women's sizes stop well before my (size 9) giant feet. We've been doing a lot of walking. There are so many beautiful little streets, with worn fabric banners showing hand printed or drawn letters that look like nothing more than beautiful shapes to me. I am utterly illiterate here. The people I've met have been unbelievably gracious and put up with our knowing nothing in a way that makes it seem like they are at fault for not knowing what strange thing we're asking for in their country, in their home. We've been traveling very low-budget and staying in single rooms in homes and ryokan (tiny hotels run by families mostly). For some reason the images in my mind of Tokyo are not the sweeping torii gates of the shrines that we went to see. I have photographs and will always treasure the memory of seeing them. But what I was most amazed by were smaller things that we did not know to stop and document. There was a set of three ceramic pots, sitting on the street next to some potted plants. They seemed vacant at first, but they were full of water, and tiny fish hiding in the water plants. The tiny shapes of the fish were right there in the street under the sky. The bright flash of this revelation was both so fitting for the setting and so unexpected. I imagine that they belong to some grandmother who sits out in the evening and watches the fish go around. Who cares if this is true or not. I remember also vividly the meh meeeeh-ing sound of the cicadas, such a complaining sound, so loud in a country where even the construction is done with as little impact as possible. There were some houses styled to be European that stuck out. They looked like something from an anime. They didn't look like any European house I've seen. More like a very tidy cake in the shape of a house. The first night we landed and went deliriously in search of some food after flying for about 17 hours, we stumbled into a family run udon shop. David begged me to make a decision about food, because everything seemed bright and loud and utterly indecipherable at that time of night in our strange state. We ordered the first and second thing on the menu, ordered a beer. Blessedly the word for beer is understood everywhere. We got some amazing home-made noodles in broth, some cat-foody tasting fish, a bowl of clams in rich brown sauce? We think they were clams but honestly I'm not sure, and rice with tuna mash and a raw egg yolk on top. It was unbelievable. I think that's when I knew we were in Japan. We ate our udon hot even though they asked us 3 or 4 times if we were sure about that. It was about 90 degrees. It never occurred to us to have it cold. The cook went to sit in the back room and drink with his friends after it seemed there would be no more customers coming in. He poured us a tiny challis' of sake and left us to his wife's watchful eye. She tidied, we ate, and then payed and fled. I love how clean it is here. I love it. I have always liked order and taking off my shoes inside. I am German after all. Everyone seems to carry their own hand towel for a day's outing. There are no paper towels in most of the bathrooms. This same hand towel can cover your hair should it rain. Why you'd want to cover your hair when it rains I'm not sure, but it was clearly an important function of the towel. We enjoyed a late afternoon of watching people run through the rain with various items over their heads while we sat in the window of a restaurant/pub. The fashions and people were equally fun to watch. People wear floor length flowery mom-ish dresses and make them look cute. Can you believe it? The rooms we've been in are spare, clean, everything in the bathroom is white, as though to prove to you that there's no speck of dirt hiding that you might miss on a colorful tile. I love that people don't smoke and throw their butts on the ground, but either wait near an ash-can or carry the butt away in a small pouch designed for this purpose. I don't even mind that there's smoking in some restaurants. I grew up with this in Germany and it seems sort of cozy to me. I know that it's terrible for all involved of course- but what can I say. I've seen folks with gloves for ridding the train so they don't have to touch what other people touched. There are even men in the train stations who clean the ever rotating germ-buffet that is the escalator handrail. There seems to be a whole fleet of people in the parks who's job it is to clear away leaves. I love that they care enough to employ people to make sure that it's nice. We could learn from this America. We came to Japan to see Tokyo Games show and see if it would ever be a viable market for us. It's much cheaper to send me and David (who go for free) than the company and all the stuff required for a con set-up. So, we've reviewed Tokyo games show, and basically it'll be a very long time before we come to exhibit at this show if ever. No judgement of the show, but it doesn't really look like folks are interested in shopping. And what there is to buy is very easy to buy, t-shirts, towels, stuffed critters. It's blastedly full and hot and sort of dark also. But there I am being back at work, analyzing, explaining. I'm done working for the trip. We've got one week to do whatever we want in Japan. The funny thing is we have gone so far away to be able to have a real stopping point. To be able to stop working or even thinking about work it helps to have little to no internet and not to be callable. I think we must learn to be unavailable more often. The most wonderful thing about running a business is that you get to set the terms. You get to chose. This is also the very hardest because you have to chose carefully and then follow up on your choices. It never really ends of course. This has never been more true than now. As we grow, (not as smoothly as it sounds) we also have new growing pains, new overhead costs, new challenges, new systems we have to learn and master. There's nobody to help you "figure it out." It's hard to shut-off, to stop working. It's hard to feel like your ship will stay afloat without you watching it's every move. But it will, it does, it has for the last week.

- Willow Volante

[j-exclamationmark-l]

Kiryu Youtube video synopses

From November 2018 - December 2018 These are synopses, not direct translations, despite the fact I began to forget that during the top one, which I wrote last.

【本人解説】己龍最新アルバム「転生輪廻」マル秘トーク！ Kiryu talks about their new album Tenshou Rinne!

Synopsis: The five members gather together and give their thoughts about their new album.

Tsurushi Mitsuki: This is an older song I wrote, back in 2017. I made Mahiro sing in a very low register. Mahiro: I like the distortion effect in doubling my voice. Junji: I was surprised by this song, it has a nice balance between quiet and movement. Muku Mitsuki: This is the song where I began using a seven-string guitar. Hiyorin: The balance is very difficult to achieve, but once you get it, it's incredible. Junji: Between quiet and movement... THIS SONG IS DEFINITELY MOVEMENT. Oborodzukiyo Hiyorin: This kind of sounds like the kind of song we would have written in our early days. Takemasa: I think this song is more popular with our male fans since it's kind of R-rated. Mitsuki: I wanted to make a song that was dark and disturbing. Mahiro: I like this song. Junji: Between sun and shadow, this song is shadow. Ibitsu Mitsuki: This is maybe the prettiest song on the album, and a bonus track. It's a song about pain. Hiyori: The bass solo is very significant. Takemasa: After having written some hundred songs together, we've yet to have made a song like this. I'm glad we put it out now. Junji: Between strength and gentleness, this song is gentle. Hansuu Mitsuki: This is a song Takemasa wrote for us. It has a nice balance and it's really fun to play. Hiyori: It's fast and busy. Takemasa: I wrote it mostly on my iPhone. Mahiro: The speed and rhythm of it really makes it a unique song. Junji: This isn't a normal rhythmic pattern for Takemasa. It's all... (sings the pattern). That's it. That's all it is for me. [Then Junji compares it to some manga thing I'm not familiar with]. Tenshou Rinne Mitsuki: This is the kind of song that people who like Kiryu will enjoy. It's a very Kiryu song. We don't use normal phrases for us, though. Hiyori: It's really nice to hear you singing for us, Mitsuki. Mahiro: That was my idea. I thought it would add a nice kind of unique sparkle to it. Junji: This is a fast song. Watashi ha Kairai, Sarugutsuwa no Ningyou Mitsuki: This is a rather slow song for us. Hiyori: I felt like this song was a sort of turning point for us, that this is the song that shows we're no longer kids. Like we grew beards for this song. Mitsuki: I don't understand what on earth you're talking about. Hiyorin: Don't you feel like you finally grew pubic hair? Mitsuki: What? Like in junior high school, weirdo. How old are you, do you still not have hair there? Mahiro: I really like the balance and sound of this song. Basara Mitsuki: This song is called "Basara," AKA Take-punk. Takemasa: WHAT? WHY?? Mitsuki: Every time you submitted a demo of this song, the feeling of it was very uncertain. But the underlying sound was always kind of punk. Hiyorin: Thank you for all the deep feelings held in this song! Mahiro: I like this. Junji: I hate the rhythm. It's the same thing over and over again. Nopperabou Mitsuki: This song was born out of my want to write a song that had this sort of bass rhythm. For you, Hiyorin, it's all bass slaps. Hiyorin: Oh yeah! This is the most difficult song to play on this album! The rhythm is hard, and when I was recording, you kept asking for more and more. Mitsuki: And the lyrics, I really felt like I was able to write something significant and deep... Hiyorin: It is a sufficiently Micchan song. Junji: When you sent it to me, I couldn't even begin to imagine what the chorus would be like. Takemasa: We had to do so much reamping and such, this was also the most expensive song to make. Mahiro: There were just so many levels to making it. But in the end, it was fun. Mitsuki: How about it, Hiyorin? Can you go more? Hiyorin: ..I'm going to have to say for now, I'd like to stay at this level. Gekkabijin Mitsuki: This is the most Japanese-sounding track on the album. It's like Kiryu-pop. Takemasa: I had absolutely no idea where to insert this song in the album. Mitsuki: Maybe we should have made it a bonus track? Mahiro: Sometimes I forget we have songs like this, too. Junji: It's Mitsu-punk. Basara is Take-punk and Gekkabijin is Mitsu-punk. Harushigure Hiyorin: This song really conveys the feeling of now. This is really Takemasa's song. Kairai is Mitsuki's song of growth, and Harushigure is -- Takemasa: HAIR? HAIR? HAIR? Hiyorin: Your beard. Mitsuki: This is the world's beard. Mahiro: From the start, I knew this would be a good song. Junji: Takemasa wrote the music and Mitsuki wrote the lyrics, so it kind of feels like a thing you both peed on together. (Everyone laughs). No, it's a good song. It's good. I just hate it. I only play TAN-TAN-TA OVER AND OVER. Except at the end, I play DO-DO-DO. Then tan-tan-ta. But it sounds nice and sparkly. Jou no Ka Mitsuki: This is THE single Junji: The song that charmed the world. Mitsuki: We used this song in an anime. The concept came from trying to tackle something we couldn't do before. I wanted to do that. Everyone: Thank you. Hiyorin: I didn't cry, but I felt as though I might. It's a moving song. Junji: But then, seeing your name appear on the opening credits as the writer was kind of a blow. This song... between light and dark, this song is light. Mahiro: I really like this song. Kuroyami ni Madou Esoragoto Mitsuki: This song is "Kuroyami ni Madou Esoragoto," AKA the Take-ballad. Junji: This sounds like something he wrote when he was in school. This is back when it was just us in a Take-band. Prince Take hasn't changed a bit. Mitsuki: This song is just so heavy. Takemasa: I thought about all the things I wanted to say, the messages I wanted to get across. But I wasn't the one singing it, so I knew if Mahiro couldn't feel it, this song wouldn't resonate. Mahiro: It was really difficult to sing. Every line felt like a wound. Hiyorin: Usually songs feel like a journey. You hit this place, then return. Then you hit this place and return. This song starts with an intro that I expect to come back to, but you never come back to it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4Rv-pyuEXE

5000万円以上⁉コンビニATMに入金できる額の限界を調査 Over ￥500,000,000!? Let's see how much money a convenience store ATM can take.

Synopsis: Takemasa gathers a TON of money and tries to break the ATM by putting too much in at once. Result: Eventually, the ATM does stop accepting the money after depositing ￥305,000,000. Notable: Holding THAT MUCH money at once is genuinely terrifying. Takemasa tries to make a joke about it, but you can tell he's truly nervous to be holding that much in public.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4SRtOUadMs

【黒崎眞弥を観察する会】サイン書き Watch Kurosaki Mahiro write his signature

Synopsis: Mahiro announces he will now sign posters. He then begins silently signing posters. Result: Posters have been signed. Notable: That one time he moved a poster. It was magical.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tmRaTSFRys

己龍 九条武政より、今までありがとう。 Thank you for everything up until now. -Kujou Takemasa, Kiryu

Synopsis: Takemasa talks about his past in an overly dramatic way, how he decided that as long as he's in public, he will always wear his mask. As long as he has his mask, he is Kujou Takemasa. Result: In Macau, while bungee jumping, his mask flies off, and he pretends he died the moment the mask came off his face. Notable: OVER THE TOP.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNb_NqnO9Fs

【初体験】まだ見ぬ仙台の味を求めて【雑談有り】 [First Experience] We found a new flavor of Sendai (chat included)

Synopsis: Mitsuki and Hiyorin go to Sendai and talk about the kinds of food it's famous for: gyuutan, zunda, sasakama... but NO! They will not try these foods today! Instead, they'll try the first hamburger shop that was opened in Japan. Result: The two agree the hamburgers are good. Notable: Mitsuki relays a story. "Sometimes, when I go buy food, an old lady will say, 'please enjoy this with ketchup.' Sometimes the kids will write their names on their food in ketchup, too. And young couples will write each other's names." "That's sweet," Hiyoin comments. "They even draw a heart around it... the little shitheads," Mitsuki laughs. "GROW UP, MITSUKI!" Hiyorin manages through his own laughter.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CEiLBSyab8

メントスコーラリベンジ Mentos-Cola Revenge

Synopsis: Mitsuki analyzes what went wrong in the first mentos and cola video and decides to try again. Result: A huge mess explosion. Notable: Mitsuki isn't sure about trying by himself, and wonders if someone very special will hear him call out for help, no matter where they are... he calls out, "HIYOOOORIIIIIIINNN!" and surely enough, Hiyorin sweeps in to save the day. Notable 2: It's rather humanizing to see Mitsuki and Hiyorin cleaning up their own mess.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=an_JFW6ck3o

【企画会議】みんなでネタ考えよう！ [Meeting Regarding Future Plans] Let's all think of ideas for videos!

Synopsis: Chamu (Codomo Dragon) and Mitsuki ask for help thinking of Youtube videos people would like to see. Mitsuki claims he's only good at thinking of food-related things. Later, Mitsuki recruits Zero Hertz's Gaga and Rio to help him try different toast toppings while Chamu films them. Result: Nori tsukudani (seaweed simmered in soy sauce) Mitsuki: Too salty, but otherwise good. Rio: It's like jelly. Gaga: Salty, but good. Ume gonomi (pickled plum) Mitsuki: Too sour. Rio: Too sour. Gaga: (feigns vomiting) Ika shiokara (salted and fermented squid) Mitsuki: SALTY!! Rio: (makes a face and groans while Mitsuki asks "is it that bad?") Gaga: Yum! Delicious! The best one we've tried so far. Salmon flakes Mitsuki: It tastes like margarine. Rio: (no comment) Gaga: It tastes like normal bread. Tarako flakes Mitsuki: Where did the tarako go? Rio: It's bread! Gaga: It's like eating sand. The ensuing laughter sounds like agreement from everyone. Minorusaki menma (fermented bamboo shoots) Mitsuki: It's good! Rio: Good! Gaga: Yum. Tastes like something sold at a ramen shop. Nametake (enoki mushroom) Mitsuki: I don't taste it. It's good, but it doesn't taste like nametake. Rio: (makes a face) Gaga: (nods) Natto (slimy fermented soybeans) Mitsuki: DELICIOUS! Rio: Yum! Gaga: It's good! Mitsuki's conclusion: Everything needs more mayonnaise.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29Z1sMuQQxM

【武道館ドラマーが】ドンキーコングトロピカルフリーズをまったりプレイ Part.2 A Drummer Who Has Performed at Budoukan plays Donkey Kong Tropical Breeze part 2

Synopsis: Junji plays Donkey Kong. Result: Junji plays Donkey Kong. Notable: Nothing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNUb1GWaEg8

おまえは誰だ "Who are you?"

Synopsis: Hiyorin tests the urban legend about going insane from asking your reflection in the mirror "Who are you?" repeatedly. Result: Nothing happens. Notable: A weird tapping around the 64th time Hiyorin asks his reflection "Who are you?" Hiyorin says that this must be the spirits coming after him.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWNJvrJO2V8

【悶絶】辛味の奥に眠る旨味は見つけ出せるのか！？ [Watch as we pass out in pain] Can we bring out a dormant, delicious new flavor from spicy foods?

Premise: Mitsuki and Hiyorin try mixing a number of spicy soups together, despite both hating spicy food, in their quest to find something new and delicious. Result: Mitsuki decides, after getting over the initial pain, that it really does taste kind of good. Hiyorin dies from agony and says he can't tell if it tastes good or not because it's too painful to eat. Notable: Mitsuki flailing in pain.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1E6vfta-eF8

[junkyardlynx]

Pt. 13

The presence made no attempt to disguise itself, nor it’s...gentle rankling of hostility. It trampled through the fallen leaves and branches of the woods, birds scattering in it’s wake. The our visitor was loud, obvious, and it seemed like they were none-too-pleased to be there. I briefly wondered what they could be so agitated about as I buried my head against Sarisa’s warm stomach. 

“You really think you should keep your face right there?” She asked, even as she continued to play with my hair.

“I really doubt they’re coming to fight if they’re being so loud about it.” 

I had almost pulled my head away from her when the flimsy plywood door flung open with such force that it actually agitated me, so I stubbornly remained. Why do people feel the need to slam doors? Can you just act like a person? It’s not that hard. It’s actually easier than slamming it, because you use less force.

“Your friend is struggling to maintain control of his own begotten flesh and the two of you remain locked in an embrace as the morning turns to afternoon. Why did I bother with this fool’s errand?”

The voice that addressed us was dripping with venom. Muffled slightly through a mask, it was feminine, with a touch of gruffness that coloured it’s fanciful speech. Sarisa tapped the back of my neck and I lazily pulled my head away from her stomach, every cell in my body still screaming for rest. I waved my hand dismissively as I went to turn my head. When I saw who it was, I smiled. This was rich, honestly. 

“Hey, it’s you. How’s the jaw? I really thought you’d get cold feet when it came to hunting Jeal down again.” 

I laughed in spite of myself at Sarisa’s comment, then shook my head. I could feel the visitor’s glare as a physical force. 

“Sorry. I assume you’re here to disturb our recuperation for some actual reason? Given the overall lack of anything approaching stealth.”

“It should be obvious, given my opening statement. Did you not come to this dilapidated observatory platform in search of your friend Thomas? No wonder he trusted you so little.”

I had taken the situation easy at first, but the remark about Thomas and trust ignited something in my belly that I couldn’t ignore. I forced a laugh as I stood up, using the flat of my palm to crack my neck and jaw. It was meant both as a show of intimidation and a way to loosen myself up. 

“I see. Well, you’re certainly right. We certainly were locked in an embrace, as you put it.”

Most of my mana was depleted and the air was thick with a sort of stillness. We’d burned up all the latent mana, commonly known as aether, in the area with our big stupid battle.  Still, there was something that a lack of magic couldn’t take away from me.

The body I’d built to handle it all.

I shot forward, shirt open and trailing behind me. My right leg shot up, aimed at her head, but it was pushed away by her crossed arms. The mere act of being deflected caused my the wound on my side to scream in pain, the scabbing flesh twisting and pulling itself open to acquiesce my desire to move. I didn’t care.

“Fool! Why do you resort to violen-”

I dropped low, aiming a sweeping kick at her legs with my left that she barely manged to jump over. 

I was angry. Ever since last night, when I lost myself against Amduisas, I couldn’t control it. It raged in me, burned in me, chilled me to the core. It felt like my anger wasn’t in my control, wasn’t even mine, but it used me. Like it was the anger of something far older and far colder. My body was aching to move, to fight, to kill. Something in my blood. There was something in my blood.

I don’t know what it was, honestly. Maybe everything about her infuriated me. I had pieced together what had happened, that she was the one that told Thomas everything. That got him wrapped up in this big, huge mess. For her to come in, break Thomas’ heart with an inconvenient truth, turn him against us and then talk about trust? Hypocritical. Unforgivable.

“Do you know what I just finished doing, you oni-wannabe?”

My voice was oddly cool as I twisted the motion of a sweeping kick into a rising one, left leg shooting up towards her mask. She pulled back skillfully, but not entirely quickly enough. The tip of my foot caught the bottom of her mask, pulling it up. Guiding myself into the air with the momentum of my kick, I returned to a standing position. I heaved a few breaths, my tattered and bloodstained rag of a shirt swaying lazily in the slight breeze coming through the open door. Sarisa made no move to stop me.

“I just slew a Duke of Hell. I just transmuted my own flesh to make up for a mistake I made in that fight. I think I deserve a little rest before cleaning up the rest of your FUCKING mess!”

The unmasked visitor regarded me stoically. No emotion or thought betrayed her stony countenance, but some personal war was being waged behind those dark eyes. Feeling unkind and not in any sort of mood to offer a chance at personal reflection, I flew forward with a straight right jab, bereft of technique. It struck the sheet metal beside her face, opening the laughably weak material up to the outside world. 

“I think that about pays you back for last time. Doesn’t feel great to be attacked for no real reason, huh? You sword-wielding maniac.” 

I pulled my hand back through the thin wall and turned around, taking a step towards Sarisa.

“...You are correct.”

I stopped. The validation wasn’t really validating at all, strangely. It deflated my righteous anger. She continued to speak, this time at length as I turned around.

“This mess is of my own making. I miscalculated. I, and my superiors, failed to properly assess the situation. At the time I engaged you, you seemed to be a threat we could not ignore. Your intentions were unclear and your training was harsh from what we had observed. Your foreign blood awakening in the Russian mountains at the mere age of thirteen was our major concern. We acted under this knowledge while failing to realize that the mere fact of your birth had already broken the Seal. For this, I apologize.”

Her words left me moderately baffled, but Sarisa spoke first. I took the moment to rein myself in, quashing that mounting fury in my bones.

“Wait, what’s this “blood awakening” thing? Jeal, what happened on that trip?”

I honestly didn’t know myself, so I shrugged.

“My sorcerer’s blood, I guess? I dunno. I guess I never told you about it, but I had to defend myself in the Urals and...that’s when I took my first life. Mage hunters like our friend here tend to be sensitive about that stuff.”

The visitor laughed, clear and ringing. She found something hilarious. It vexed me.

“Ah, you really are unaware. For someone so sharp, you sure can be dense when you wish it. Jeal, you are not entirely human and I am not a simple hunter of magi.”

She approached me slowly, drawing a blade from her hip. She held both hands up, her right hand clutching what looked to be a red letter opener. Two steps away from me, she motioned for me to stick out my arm. I rolled my eyes, but offered my right arm.

She nicked the vein with the red, red blade.

The blood that dribbled out froze as it came in contact with that peculiar knife. 

“I am Fujiwara, onmyouji and descendant of Abe no Seimei. My selfsame clam hunts what you might call Japan-native demons, or fiends. You carry the blood of a particularly dangerous Yuki-onna from the Aomori province. It is clear you have no control over it, but the fact remains as you tremble with the desire to remove that which vexes you.”

“Guess my dad left out a few details about how he met my mom.” 

My own voice was weak. My anger was gone, and confusion seemed to wash over me. I took a seat by Sarisa on the table, who seemed to be regarding me with a mix of similar confusion, worry, and slight wonder.

“Now that we’ve all had a chance to poke and prod each other, uh, maybe we should. We should talk about the elephant in the room. Not Satsuki, Jeal. It’s Thomas. I’m talking about Thomas.” 

Sarisa broke the awkward silence as I pulled into myself, assessing what I knew. My mom was apparently some super-popular Japanese snow spirit? I thought she was just a mage like dad, which is why she lived so long. Didn’t really take into account any of the little details like the stories and folklore she shared, or the fact that she always complained about the heat. She was just my mom. 

I sat there in a daze, legs swinging from the desk a little until Sarisa prodded me into the conversation. I felt strangely anxious, filled with restless and aimless desire.

“Jeal, Fuji says she has information on where Thomas is.”

“What? Oh, cool. Wait, what?”

“Thomas was moved from this location a scant few hours before your encounter with the Duke. It seems as though he was brought back into town. To the school, more accurately. There’s something you should know, though.”

Her words kinda made me slap myself in the face. What an obvious place to take him. I guess I didn’t expect it because hey, who’s gonna bring someone to the most obvious place ever after engineering a plan like this?

“Jeal, Fuji says the town is gone.”

“Rissa, you just said they brought him back there.”

“The buildings remain, and even some of the people. However, that place is not meant for the living now. I imagine this ritual was decades in the making.”

The intentionally obscure phrasing of her words was agitating me, like almost everything about her. However, Fujiwara seemed to be our ally for now, so I grit my teeth and asked what I already knew, somewhere in my breaking heart.

“What. Happened?”

“The town has been sacrificed, for lack of a better phrase. A boundary rift has been deployed, and demons walk the streets, hunting down those that remain. Your own house lies dormant and empty. I looked when escaping, and seems that your casting of Xyir managed to give your parents enough time to flee themselves. Selfish to their own ends, I imagine.”

My head pulsed terribly. A headache hatched from all the anger, beating in my temples, and I grit my teeth hard enough to crack them. I wanted to lash out in this anger, berate her for talking ill of my parents, ask her why she did nothing to save the town. I knew that my mom and dad escaped to live another day, escaped to fight another day. I knew that coming to us for help instead of attempting to do everything alone was the right choice on Fujiwara’s part, but I still choked on that fury. I felt the blood in my veins turn to slush, barely chugging through my arteries as I struggled to contain my emotions.

Turns out the kind of people who would bring their sacrificial lamb back to the most obvious place were the kind that would turn a town into a living hell. That was fine. I’d send them to a real kind of hell. Something in my body, in my bones, in my frantic blood ached for release. Something cold and ancient.

“Let’s go.”

[akaluan]

Dragon Eclipse: Christmas Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | ???

((Yeah idk. Maybe I’ll finish this before this xmas, whoops. Uhh... so I tried to write from Chad’s pov and welp everything ever so this scene is probably just as good from anyone else’s, idk it fought be the whole way until like the last half when everyone decided to start teasing Kaito.))

“Alright, food!”

Chad looked up from his new book at Jinta’s shout, then blinked at the sight of Tsukabishi carrying a large platter stacked with fried chicken. Chad leaned forward to help clear off a spot on the table, bemused at the idea of Shinigami following such a silly ‘tradition’ /and/ at the others around him who simply /accepted/ it as a given.

(He’d been in Japan for a few years, and every year he shook his head in disbelief at the ‘tradition’ of fried chicken for Christmas. It was just… unbelievable at times.)

Tsukabishi set out plates for all of them, then brought out stacks of glasses and two pitchers of drink for them to share. Table set, he sat down and gestured towards the platter. “Dig in. There’s more in the back in we run out.”

“Thanks!” Jinta cheered as he leaned in and snatched a few pieces up.

Everyone else followed suit, and Chad set about pouring drinks and passing them to the others.

Once everyone was settled and had a chance to begin eating, Urahara looked around the table and asked, “So, after we eat, how about a game? We’ll either need to split into teams to play, or—”

“We could play Munchkin!” Kaito’s Shiro broke in, leaning forward and grinning sharply. “We got nuff kits t’all play at once.”

Urahara covered his mouth with his fan and laughed cheerfully. “Any objections?”

“Munchkin?” Inoue asked curiously, looking at Shiro.

Chad looked up as well, curious what sort of game could interest Shiro so greatly. He knew the spirit was interested in video games, but he’d not realized Shiro’s interest extended to board or card games, whatever Munchkin actually was.

“S’a card game,” Shiro responded with excitement, amber eyes bright. “We all get ta be ‘venturers who’re lootin’ a dungeon! We get ta fight monsters an’ get loot an’ th’first ones t’level ten win.”

Kaito edged forward to reclaim a bit of front, reiatsu shading towards amusement as he clarified, “It’s both a competitive and cooperative game, depends on how you want to play it. You can choose to help other players out, or you can choose to screw them over by making combat more difficult, or playing curses or traps on them.”

“No wonder Shiro likes it,” Ichigo said, then cocked his head to one side, gaze going unfocused for a moment. “White says it sounds like fun, aaaaand now he’s sulking that we’re not as good as you about our control.”

“You’ll get it eventually. Every bit of practice helps, even something like this,” Kaito said with a fond smile. He tapped his chest, then gestured towards his eyes, which were a mix of amber and grey-green. “We weren’t always this good, either.”

“Tch.” Ichigo shook his head, but the small patches of gold in his irises and the way the whites of his eyes were turning a pale grey spoke enough in his stead.

“Kaito-kun, if you’d go fetch the decks, then?” Urahara asked, setting aside his plate and cleaning off his hands. “Remember to bring the rule sheets, too!”

“Aww, do we gotta?” Shiro playfully whined as he stood. “They can jes make shit up! It’s more fun tha’ way.”

“No.” Kaito shook his head. “They get the same starting point as /we/ did when we first played.” He looked over at his father, head tilted in curiosity, then tapped his chest and asked, “Are we playing as a whole, teams, or individuals this time?”

Chad looked up at Kaito, taking in the teen’s multi-colored eyes, and had to wonder what playing as an individual even meant. Were they capable of cutting each other off completely, or had they settled on some sort of compromise for games like this?

Given the way they flowed between one another without worry within the Shoten, it was… hard for him to imagine only one of them having control. Not, at least, without something /terrible/ having occurred.

(Even in the beginning, there had always been hints of the others shining through Kaito’s facade.)

“Mmmmm.” Urahara fiddled with his fan, gaze sweeping over the group before settling back on Kaito. “Two teams this time, I think. However you want to divide that.”

“I pick Zan!” Shiro announced gleefully.

Kaito groaned and rubbed at the bridge of their nose. He gave Urahara an absent wave and turned to retreat into the shoten to fetch the game, muttering aloud, “I fucking hate you. Why do you /always/ do this, I swear to kami, Shiro—”

“What..?” Inoue asked in confusion once Kaito had left, glancing between all of them.

Chad shrugged at her look, unsure as well.

“Shiro likes to team up with Zangetsu,” Arisawa answered. She stretched and set her plate aside, accepting a napkin from Ichigo with a nod and a thank you, then continued, “Calls him an ‘evil genius’ and keeps saying he wants to learn from the best.”

“That seems…” Ichigo hesitated, gaze shifting to the side and expression shading towards amusement. Whatever his own spirits were saying clearly amused him. “Absolutely terrifying.”

“What’s terrifying now?” Kaito asked. He dropped the stack of boxes on the table next to Urahara, then sat down in his spot again and reached for another piece of chicken.

“Shiro learning from an evil genius,” Ichigo answered.

Kaito laughed. “You /do/ realize who you’re talking to, right?”

“Yeah,” Arisawa agreed, looking pointedly between Kaito and his father. “/All/ of them are learning from an evil genius. Do you guys even know half the shit they get up to together?”

“Nope, and I’d rather not,” Ichigo said, snagging a few more pieces of chicken for himself and his sisters. “/You’re/ the only one of us that braves his evil lair.”

“Wh— I don’t have an /evil lair/!” Kaito sputtered.

Arisawa snorted. “No, but your dad does. /And/ he lets you use it.”

Kaito leaned back and grabbed some wrapping paper, crumpling it into a ball and flicking it at Arisawa. She swatted it aside and retaliated with her own ball, even as Karin yelped in protest as the first one hit her.

Chad smiled faintly and began to quietly turn the wrapping paper around him into ammunition. He knew exactly where this was going to end up, and he wasn’t going to be caught flat-footed.

“You are all /ridiculous/,” Ishida grumbled, leaning away from Kaito as both Arisawa /and/ Karin attempted to pelt Kaito with balls of wrapping paper.

“Says the person who wears a mantle,” Kaito said, flicking one of the balls at Ishida in retaliation.

Ishida caught the ball and glowered at Kaito. “/Firstly/, I have seen your bankai, and a sleeveless, open haori is /just as ridiculous/. And /secondly/, /you/ used to wear a mantle too, so get off that high horse or I’ll bribe Shiro to take you down.”

“Wh— conspiring with my own spirits against me!”

Shiro surged to the fore, absently batting a couple of balls aside, and asked eagerly, “Whatcha got fer me, cub?”

Ishida rolled his eyes at the nickname like he always did. “We can spend Sunday afternoon playing a video game. Enough of a bribe?”

“A’right!” Shiro cheered. “You betcha, cub!”

“I hate all of you,” Kaito deadpanned, gathering up the balls that were starting to collect around him and eyeing everyone at the table thoughtfully.

Chad leaned back, recognizing that look in Kaito’s eyes, all mischief and cheer like his father about to pull something ridiculous on them. And sure enough, Kaito started to toss his hoard of ammunition at all of them.

The minute balls of wrapping paper started to fly, Chad picked up one of his and flicked it at Ichigo.

“Et tu, Chad?” Ichigo groaned as the projectile hit his shoulder, scowling at the mild look Chad gave him in return. He set aside his plate and snagged a few stray balls. “Fine, prepare to face defeat then!”

“If you think you can,” Chad answered, picking up another ball of wrapping paper and launching it at his friend.

Everything devolved from there, with projectiles flying every which way and the whole group, even the adults, laughing and poking fun at each other. The game was forgotten for the moment, but they had their own game that was just as fun.