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owlobservation · 2 months ago

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Itoshi Sae Profile from Egoist Bible Vol.2 (2024)

"Only the idiots who can keep up will get to see what comes next."

Team: Japan U-20 National Team

Position: Offensive Midfielder (OMF)

Weapons: World class kicking accuracy, world class technique, world class tactical vision, and world class physical ability.

Birthdate: October 10th.

Age: 18 (Third year high school)

Zodiac sign: Libra.

Birthplace: Kanagawa Prefecture (Kamakura City)

Family structure: Father, mother, himself, younger brother.

Height: 180 cm.

Foot size: 26.5 cm.

Blood type: A.

Previous team before he returned to Japan: Re Ale Youth FC.

Dominant foot: Left.

Favorite Soccer Player: Álvaro Recoba. "The left-footed player who creates a rainbow on the pitch."*

Age started playing soccer: 1 years old. "Before I knew it, I was already playing soccer."

Nickname: Treasure of Japan.

Strengths: Being able to see things objectively. "I'm often told that I'm a dry person but who cares."

Weaknesses: I don't know anything except about soccer. "Don't live like this, you guys."

Favorite food: Salted kombucha. "Because I can return back to zero."**

Disliked food: French fries. "It's so delicious that I could die, but it's also so unhealthy that I could die."

Best rice accompaniment: Salted kelp. "They don't have it in Spain so I got it sent from my parents' home."

Hobby: Analyzing data of soccer players and teams. "It's nice to see things visualized as numbers."

Favorite season: The end of summer. "I feel like the whole world has become lonely."

Favorite show: Chibi Maruko-chan. "It reminds me of my parents' home."

Favorite music: Suisei by Tofubeats feat. Seira Kariya. "I listen it to cool down."

Favorite movie: Taxi Driver. "This De Niro guy is the coolest."

Favorite manga: Gegege no Kitaro.

Character color: Azuki Red.

Favorite animal: Seagull. "I like migratory birds that don't stay in one place."

Favorite brands: All the brands that sponsor me. "They have good eyes for betting on me."

Best subjects: No idea because I didn't really pay attention in class and only focused on soccer. "I've never seen my report card."

Fetish: Butt. "You can tell an athlete's ability by the shape of their butt."

What makes you happy: A play beyond my imagination.

What makes you sad: Being forced to carry the weight of Japanese soccer on my shoulders. "Yes, I'm talking about you guys."

The first time someone confessed to you: I don't even remember which one was the first time, dumbass.

Last year's valentine day chocolates: Around 2.000. "My manager told me."

Sleep time: 8 hours. (7 hours+1 hour nap)

Where do you wash first in the bath?: Bangs' hairline.

Mushroom or Bamboo shoots?: Depending on the mood.

What made you cry recently?: Why would I tell you, idiot.

At what age did you stop receiving presents from Santa?: 10 years old.***

What did you ask for a Christmas present from Santa?: My undiscovered talent.

What would you do on your last day on earth?: Give the world's best striker the world's best pass.

What would you do if you received 100 million yen?: I'm not interested. It's just a small change.

What do you do on your days off?: Gazing at the sea.

What would you be doing if you hadn’t discovered soccer?: Living a normal, happy life. Maybe my personality wouldn't have turned out like this.

Who is your favorite historical figure?: Copernicus. He was the man who overturned the world’s common knowledge.

If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?: No need. I’d live the way I wanted without any rules.

Where would you go if you had a time machine, to the past or the future?: Not interested in either. I have no pointless expectations or regrets for my future or my past. Just live in the moment. You guys are so tepid.

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World-class Offensive Midfielder With Boundless Parameters

Aiming to become the best midfielder in the world, Sae is a super player with the complete package of mind, technique, and physique. Isagi’s best play which he pulled off with “reflex” was stopped with just a light tackle. He killed The Direct Shot flawlessly, showing the big difference between the two.****

He’s Only Interested In Blue Lock! The One He Chose Was Shidou?

Sae was only interested in Blue Lock and paid no attention to his younger brother Rin or the U-20 Japan National Team. The world he sees and the place he aims for are clearly different from those of the U-20 National Team. Sae chose Shidou from Blue Lock as his teammate. With a series of super plays, they managed to corner Blue Lock.

The reason for Sae's sudden change... What on earth happened in Spain!?

Sae went to Spain and promised his younger brother Rin that he’d become “The Best Striker In The World”. However, when he returned home four years later, his attitude had changed completely . He declared that he would become “The Best Midfielder In The World” instead and pushed Rin away, calling him "tepid".*****

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Sae's Ranking on "Best 3 of Everything: Players seriously voted each!"

1. Ranked #1 The Best at Crossing (Centering)

Hiori’s commentary: "Well, all of Itoshi Sae’s kicks are perfectly designed. I admire him."

2. Ranked #2 The Most Likely To Succeed As Coach

3. Ranked #1 Who Doesn't Cry Easily

Aryu’s commentary: "If Itoshi Sae were to cry, it would be when he became the world’s best. That would be the moment of ultimate styl."******

4. Ranked #1 The Least Family-oriented person

Isagi’s commentary: "If you look at those two, you would assume so. But if they really hate each other… It means that they also think about each other."

5. Ranked #2 The Most Likely To Thrive In The Sengoku Period

6. Ranked #2 The Most Leader-like (or has the qualities of a leader)

7. Ranked #3 Longest Eyelashes

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Notes:

*Álvaro Recoba (El Chino) is a midfielder from Uruguay known for his "rainbow-like" curved kicks.

**Return back to zero=being refreshed.

***In early 2021 twitter Q&A, he said he stopped getting Christmas presents when Rin stopped believing in Santa. His answer is revised in Egoist Bible to just "10 years old."

****The original sentence is “...a super player who possesses everything– mind, technique and physique (心技体)”. 心技体 or Shingitai refers to the three qualities an athlete must have: 心 is heart/mind, 技 is technique/skill, 体 is body/physique/strength. It is said that an athlete needs 3 of them to succeed. If they only have the right mind and skills but not the body to support them… well you’ll know what will happen! So from our understanding Shingitai is an ‘inseparable set’. We translated it as a “complete package” to let you know that those 3 qualities are inseparable!

*****Here the word used is 突き放す (tsukihanasu). Tsukihanasu is 'to push away', to push someone (or something) away and make them leave. It can also refer to an attitude of treating someone without love, sympathy, or emotions. Please check my notes on Rin’s profile page, because there is a connection!

******What Aryu originally said isファイナリーオシャ final osha. "The moment where Itoshi Sae finally cried would be the moment of ultimate/final styl.” is most likely what he meant! We personally think ‘ultimate styl’ had more feel than ‘final styl’ (?), that’s why we went with ultimate osha!

Check Sae's profile from the first volume of Egoist Bible here!

#itoshi sae #egoist bible #egoist bible vol.2 #translation

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girlactionfigure · 5 months ago

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THURSDAY HERO: Barney Ross

Dov-Ber Rosovsky was a world-champion boxer and injured World War II hero whose fierce Jewish pride made him an icon to American Jews.

Dov-Ber was born in New York in 1909, the son of a Talmudic scholar who fled to America after surviving a pogrom in Belarus. Dov-Ber grew up in Chicago, helping out in his father’s small grocery store in a poor neighborhood and studying to be a rabbi.

His life was changed forever when his father was shot dead resisting a robbery at his store. Dov-Ber’s mother suffered a nervous breakdown and the kids were farmed out to foster homes.

Dov-Ber became bitter and angry. He turned his back on religion, changed his name to Barney Ross, and took a job working for Al Capone. Barney’s goal was to make enough money to buy a house and reunite his family. He soon became such an effective street fighter, however, that he gave professional boxing a try. Strong, fast, and determined, “Barney” became a world champion in the three different weight classes. He was known for his exceptional stamina and his street smarts.

In the 1930’s, when Hitler was rising to power, Barney Ross became a hero to American Jews by showing pride in his heritage and taking a public stand against Nazi Germany. He was determined to end each fight on his feet to show that Jews fight and don’t go down. In Barney’s final fight, he defended his title against fellow three-division world champion Henry Armstrong. Barney got brutally pummeled and his trainers begged him to let them stop the fight, but he was determined to stay on his feet. He’d never been knocked out in his career and wasn’t going to start now. He retired from boxing in his early 30’s with a record of 72 wins, 4 loses, 3 draws, and two no decisions, with 22 wins by knockout. He achieved his goal of having no career knockouts.

After retiring from the ring, Barney/Dov-Ber enlisted in the US Marine Corps to fight in World War II. The Marines wanted to keep him stateside as a celebrity morale-booster, but Barney insisted on fighting for his country. He was sent to Guadalcanal in the South Pacific. During his time in Guadalcanal, Barney became friends with Chaplain Frederic Gehrig. Father Gehrig found an old pump organ on the island, and Barney was the only one who could play it. On Christmas Eve, before Barney and his fellow Marines were to go to battle, Gehrig asked him to play “Silent Night” and other Christmas songs for the troops. Barney happily obliged, finishing off the concert with “My Yiddishe Momma,” the song he used to play when he entered the boxing ring. Father Gehrig would later describe Barney Ross as a “national treasure.”

One night, Barney and three other soldiers were trapped under enemy fire. All four were wounded but Barney was the only one able to continue fighting. He gathered his comrades’ weapons and fought 22 Japanese soldiers, killing them all. Two of the American soldiers died, but Barney carried the third man to safety, even though the soldier weighed 230 pounds, while the wounded Barney weighed only 140! For his courage, Barney Ross was awarded a Silver Star and a citation from President Roosevelt.

Barney was hospitalized for his battle injuries, and the pain was so bad that he became dependent on morphine. After the war, he returned to America and opened a bar lounge. However, his drug addiction intensified as he turned to heroin, which was easier to obtain than morphine. Barney became hooked on heroin, an addiction that cost him $500 a day, as well as his marriage, his business and his life savings. Finally he hit rock bottom, and checked into a veteran’s recovery facility. He kicked his habit once and for all, and became a public speaker who educated high school students about the danger of drugs.

In the 1960’s, Barney made his living as a celebrity spokesman. After a brutal struggle with throat cancer, Barney Ross died in 1967 at age 57.

For his wartime heroism and for modeling Jewish strength and pride, we honor Dov-Ber “Barney Ross” Rosovsky as this week’s Thursday Hero.

#Thursday Hero

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whencyclopedia · 21 hours ago

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Byodo-in

Byodo-in is a Buddhist temple complex at Uji, south of Kyoto, which was founded in 1052 CE by the important court official and regent Fujiwara no Yorimichi. The large Phoenix Hall is one of the finest surviving examples of architecture from the Heian Period (794-1185 CE) and is often referred to as the most beautiful building in Japan. Byodo-in is listed as a National Treasure of Japan and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Foundation & Purpose

The temple was founded in 1052 CE by Fujiwara no Yorimichi (992-1074 CE), leader of the powerful Fujiwara clan which dominated Japanese government in the Heian Period. Yorimichi actually built on one of the estates of his famous father Fujiwara no Michinaga (966-1028 CE), who had turned to Buddhism late in his life and built an opulent villa there in 998 CE. The date is a significant one in Buddhism as it was believed that year marked the end of an era and the beginning of a new period when decadence among the ruling class would adversely affect the appeal of Buddhism and cause a feeling of pessimism amongst the populace. Now, more than ever, an impressive Buddhist temple would be needed.

#History #1052CE #1053CE #998CE #WHE #[#]

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mybeingthere · 4 months ago

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Yamaguchi Ryūun (b. 1940), Saga Prefecture, Japan.

1957 - Graduated from Oita Prefecture Beppu Advanced Occupational School, Department of Bamboo Craft

1963 - Apprenticed to Shono Shounsai (Living National Treasure)

Highly sculptured baskets like this one are formed using the three basic construction methods of twisting, braiding, and knotting bamboo – which Japanese basketmakers having been using for centuries – but in the last century and a half, artists have been creating dynamic, contemporary forms that go beyond mere function and highlight self-expression. Uzumaki is a stunning example of how a simple form made only of one material can be shaped into something that implies active motion and expresses an artist’s individual perspective. In Yamaguchi’s own words:

"I express beauty through bamboo: the beauty of water flowing, the beauty of flowers, the beauty of moving clouds. I try to bring the beauty of nature into my sculpture."

In 1963, Yamaguchi began as an apprentice to Shōno Shōunsai (1904-1974), who in 1967 was designated an Important Intangible Cultural Property holder by the government of Japan. This apprenticeship inspired him greatly to achieve the same artistic status as his mentor.

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monosanimegenericzone · 3 months ago

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Hunter x Hunter: Troupe Lineage

specifically feitan and phinks

and a little nobunaga

so we dont know for sure what nationality feitan is. but i speculate that phinks is half egyptian.

and i think he and his bros went to investigate their cultural roots during the three year gap. they dont have access to blood related lineage so they jump straight to like- a human historian who's good at identifying race based on facial features or common genetic phenomena.

(and yes this world doesnt have one to one for races but bear with me)

feitan discovers he's chinese, nobunaga discovers he's japanese, and phinks discovers he's half egyptian.

the other two have a good idea where they're from but phinks has absolutely no idea what a fuckin egypt is.

and thus begins a deep dive into learning about his heritage and he becomes a huge nerd about it. like i think thats why his ass wasn't there for the 3 year meeting. he got fuckin lost in the desert. my guy actually got swarmed by the pharaohs.

he came out with treasure, several snake bites and a cool fit idea that he was determined to use when he got older.

anyway i think these three would be very interested in their natural cultural heritage and do some offscreen character development.

#hxh #phinks #feitan #nobunaga #might come back to this #wrote this at 11pm in a stupor

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the-cricket-chirps · 1 year ago

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Detail: Taizokai (womb realm) Mandala, silk hanging scroll, Shingon tantric buddhist school, Heian period (794-1185), Tō-ji, Kyōto, Japan. Japanese National Treasure

9th century

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thefinalcinderella · 11 months ago

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 6 - Genuine (Part 1)

Finally...finally the last chapter...

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The kumotatewaku is a traditional Japanese pattern that resembles rising clouds. It is often used in the costumes of ancient nobles

The expression used here is 白羽の矢を立てる (literally: sticking a white feathered arrow), which is an idiom that means "selecting someone out of many people"

A chindonya is a kind of old-timey marching band that dressed in elaborate costumes to advertise for shops

Block style or kaisho style calligraphy is the regular script and the most commonly used. Every stroke is carefully executed

Previous | Next

In early June, the prefectural preliminaries for the National High School Kyudo Tournament, also known as the prefectural tournament, were held.

Kyudo supply stores and photo studios were set up around the venue, and the storefronts were lined with commemorative goods for the tournament. The wind was strong on this day, and the young archers were moving against it. The competition event was close-distance shooting, using thirty-six-centimeter kasumi targets with a shooting distance of twenty-eight meters.

For the boys’ individual competition on the first day, Fujiwara Shuu of Kirisaki High School once again won by landing all his arrows. Second place was Kabashima, also from Kirisaki, and third place went to Asahina from Haneina High School, showing the strength of the powerhouse schools. For the girls’ competition, Seo from Kazemai High School placed fifth.

On the second day, it was finally time for the team competition. The format was five-person teams and four shots in zasha. In the preliminaries, the time limit was eight minutes. Forty-two schools were participating in the boys’ competition, and the top eight teams with the highest number of hits in the two rounds would advance to the final tournament.

Tommy-sensei raised his voice. “Now it’s time for the team competition. Kazemai will show its true strength. Everyone, I wish you good luck!”

“Yes!”

After completing the registration process, Kaito, Kanbayashi, Seiya, Himuro, and Minato put their numbers on their right hips. Ryouhei and Nanao were reserve members.

Himuro was expressionless like he always was, but Kanbayashi gently stroked his number.

“Oh no, I might be really happy after all…”

Keyaki nudged Kanbayshi. “Don’t grin like that and get it together. I don’t wanna hear you whine.”

“Of course.”

Next to them, Ryouhei was tying his yellow-green headband.

“Today, my sister, Sae-chan, and Toujou-san are coming to support us. I’m psyched!”

“That’s great, Ryouhei,” Minato and Seiya said.

The Nanao Fan Club had updated its cheering goods and prepared fans with a frog wearing a crown. They also handed them out to support groups and parents, and when the bright green of them swayed, it looked like a chorus of frogs.

As they were about to pass through the noisy venue, people approached Minato and the others. A young prince, twins, a boy with a square face and thick eyebrows, a boy with pleasant features and a crew cut, and an antique doll.

They were Kirisaki’s Fujiwara Shuu, Sugawara Senichi and Manji, Kabashima Umetarou, Yushima Kaoru, and Kuon Takumi. The twins burst into laughter in front of so many of their rivals.

Shuu brought his face close to Minato’s right ear. Since their master Saionji’s left ear was bad, Shuu only showed this habit to Saionji and Shuu.

“Thanks for the birthday present the other day. I’ll treasure it.”

Shuu put his thumb on his yugake. A white underglove with a purple pattern could be seen beneath it.

“I’m glad I was able to give it to you on May 11th this year. I thought it would be perfect for you.”

“The kumotatewaku pattern is rare for undergloves. (1) ——See you in the finals.”

“Yeah, the finals.”

The two of them bumped yugake and returned to their teammates.

Shuu’s gaze drifted to Kuon. Kuon was in the starting lineup for the day, but he was standing separate from everyone else. Everyone could tell that he was isolated, and was not a proudly solitary existence like Shuu. A dissonant sound was wafting from Kirisaki High School.

Kuon, who didn’t care about other people’s concerns, had moved onward. In fact, he was frustrated because he didn’t do well in yesterday’s individual competition.

Manji rested his elbow on Senichi’s shoulder.

“Will we okay with Kuon? I’m more suited to be the starter.”

“It’s frustrating, but his hitting rate is usually high. The coach said there was no problem either.”

“Alright, everyone, let’s go!”

At President Kabashima’s order, Shuu and the others headed to the venue.

Meanwhile, Tommy-sensei and Masa-san were in the shade of a tree, away from the crowd.

Masa-san straightened his collar.

“Why did you remove Ryouhei and Nanao from the starting lineup? There was nothing to criticize about their results.”

“If we make it to the finals, each person would have to shoot twenty shots in total. Even if it’s difficult to shoot twenty shots and hit, how about twelve shots? The aim is to preserve stamina.”

“There’s one more thing I’d like to confirm before we get into the tournament. On the day of the entrance ceremony, I heard you say to Minato and the others, ‘I have given you white-feathered arrows.’ (2) I’m sure that you knew that saying originated from the custom of playing an arrow with white feathers in front of the house of a girl chosen as a sacrifice. Why did you purposely use it?”

“It’s to prepare them. Once a ship leaves the port, you can’t turn back even if you shout to get off.”

“Are you telling them to prepare to share the same fate? Even though those who are wounded might fail again?”

“Hohoho, I didn’t mean it in such a sad way. Youth is the greatest weapon, since they can just start over again and again. I just felt that they could make it to the new continent. The first fleet, the Kazemai High School’s boy’s kyudo team, started with six members. Takigawa-san, you’re the first-born son. When I was able to convince you, I was convinced that we had completed our mission.”

“That’s a bold opinion, typical of Tommy-sensei.”

“It’s true of all sports, but one cannot win by the strength of the athlete alone. Especially in kyudo, the character of the master comes out strongly. Everyone resembles your shooting, Takigawa-san.”

“…My shooting was said to be very similar to my grandfather’s.”

“It’s the spirit of archer that is passed on.”

“…Yes.”

Masa-san looked at the treetops swaying in the wind and laughed.

Following the opening ceremony, the yawatashi ceremony was held.

The boys’ division was called for the preliminaries, and they headed to the waiting area with Masa-san leading them. As always, the most stressful time was sitting in the chairs and waiting. When the team before them finished, the “stand up” signal was given, and they rose from their chairs and advanced to the honza. They bowed at the signal to “begin,” walked to their shooting positions and knelt down. They chose two arrows from the four they had.

First up was the oomae, Kaito. It was lovely how he never trembled when facing the target. The lovelier he became, the more stubborn he got, and he would end up saying things that were different from his true feelings. He would say, “I have no interest in you,” but would grab the other person’s arm and not let them go in the same breath. He lived and breathed kyudo. That was Kaito’s everyday. After his right hand flicked, shouts of “good” came from the stands.

The second, Kanbayashi, raised his bow. The midsummer sun encouraged growth. He absorbed more and more of what was told to him and expanded towards the blue sky. He had seniors who he admired and pursued the shooting he admired. His longing had a zeal that surpassed his anxiety. His arrow pierced the target with a grand hanare.

The third, Seiya, was quiet. Wearing a straw hat and an insect cage, he entered the forest, but stopped when he saw a field of flowers. The neat and trim flowers swayed. When he lay down and looked up at the rising clouds, he felt like he was about to float away. He heard a familiar voice and stopped returning to the sky—he hit.

It was the fourth, Himuro’s, turn. He took the bowstring with a bodhisattva’s hand and looked at the target with a bodhisattva’s eyes. His ability to make an uncurving douzukuri was probably something he was born with. It was his natural posture with no effort put into it. The frogs in the stands jumped when he hit.

The fifth was the ochi, Minato. The white-feathered arrow was proof that he had been allowed to come into contact with the gods. He didn’t resist, go against it, and accepted it as it was. His limbs, stretching vertically and horizontally, were incredibly supple. His body of sixteen, which couldn’t be wished once more after it had passed, embraced the earth, wide and endless.

The matooto sounded.

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo, sitting in the stands, held their breath.

“The boys are amazing.”

“I feel like they have become more and more refined.”

“I heard that Narumiya and Takehaya have also been going to Saionji-sensei. Their drive is different.”

For the second shot, everyone except for Kanbayashi hit.

For the third shot, Kaito, Seiya, and Minato hit.

Keyaki’s chest swelled at the success of his fellow first-years. “Kazemai, do your best!” Shuu’s younger sister Sae and their butler Toujou cheered in a small voice.

For the fourth shot, Kaito hit with all four of his arrows and left the shooting range to applause. After him, Kanbayashi, Seiya, Himuro, and Minato all hit the target. Their result was four, two, four, three, and four for seventeen hits out of twenty. It was a very good start.

Kirisaki was the sixth team to enter the shooting range. A wall of people filled the surrounding area to catch a glimpse of the champions’ shooting.

The oomae, Kabashima, released his arrow.

Senichi, Kuon, and Yushima all hit. The ochi was Shuu.

Wash your heart and turn it into incense; revere your body and turn it into flowers. Those were Kukai’s words, meaning that it was the duty of a virtuous person to serve others without any thought. Those who had a pure heart were fragrant. Shuu knew firsthand that this wasn’t a metaphor. The feeling of euphoria he felt when he brought his face close to the owner of that scent. He heard whispers of wanting to be intoxicated, of not minding sinking to the bottom of the lake if he could have it all to himself, but those were the words of a demon. He must not fall for the sweet words of someone who looked like him.

Shuu’s evil-expelling arrow dashed forward.

The results for the two rounds were announced.

For the boys’ division, Kazemai had thirty-four hits out of forty, Kirisaki had thirty-six, and Haneina had thirty-five.

The Kazemai girls had only twenty-eight hits, so unfortunately they didn’t pass the preliminaries.

Minato and his teammates got the ticket to go to the finals.

After lunch, the finals began. In the afternoon, the wind became stronger and their hakamas fluttered violently.

“It’s time to change the lineup. Yamanouchi-kun will be second, and Kisaragi-kun will be fourth. I’m counting on you,” Tommy-sensei said.

Ryouhei and Nanao received their numbers.

Minato adjusted the position of Ryouhei’s number.

“It looks like the five of us will be standing on that stage again. A year ago, you invited me to the information session for the kyudo club. That was the first time we five met face to face.”

“I wasn’t the only one who invited you. Everyone wanted to do kyudo with Minato.”

“Now, I can draw a bow. I’ve never been happier.”

Kaito brusquely held out his right hand, and the five boys looked at each other. Passionate feelings could be conveyed without words or skin contact.

Ryouhei, Nanao, Kaito, Seiya, and Minato bumped their yugakes together.

Kazemai’s opponent was Uyoshiro High School.

They were wearing bright red headbands. They lived in an area associated with military commanders who were famous during the Sengoku period, and when they went to a competition, they wore a certain armament. It was glasses. It might seem comical from the outside, but they did it very seriously.

The group stood in the first shajo. The oomae readied his bow and fixed his eyes on the target.

The bow maker, the yugake maker, and the arrow maker were the three gods of kyudo. The archer was the one who became intimate with these materialized gods. If there was a slight doubt or confusion, the string would make a muddy sound with those negative emotions. The twill brocade woven by the trinity of gods resembled battle attire. The flowers, birds, wind, and moon on the robe were the prayers of the samurai, and the butterflies (moths) represented the parents of the silkworm, production.

The flowers scattered. The flower battle was a warrior’s honor.

The oomae’s matooto resounded.

Kazemai’s oomae, Kaito, was undaunted. The wind beat mercilessly at his face, and his douzukuri felt like it was about to collapse under the wind, but he withstood it. Patience was his natural disposition. He might seem short-tempered, but he had the conviction to never give up. To not run away from the way of the bow. He was determined to cling to it for the rest of his life.

The nimato, Ryouhei, was listening to the news of the wind. Seeing the faces of his parents and sister in the stands, he felt strongly that he wasn’t alone in this fight. It seemed that people became stupid when they were angry and when they were happy. Their brain stopped working properly. The state in which one’s mind was clear and free from all distractions was called munen musou, and he learned from the path of the blade that you couldn’t fulfill your duties if you weren’t passionate.

The naka, Seiya, had found the answer to Minato’s question some time ago.

Why did humans shed their fur? It was to continue walking.

The ancestors of humans who left the forest for the grasslands learned to walk or run long distances in search of food. Body hair had a heat insulating effect and protected the skin from UV rays, but in order to prevent the body temperature from rising too high, they chose to abandon their fur and sweat instead. Humans had great endurance. The way one breathed was important in walking the long way of the bow.

The ochimae, Nanao, was thinking. Thinking was a linguistic activity.

There were two types of word formation. One was to give a name to something that had been hidden and make its existence manifest, and the other involved the intention of first creating a word and having the concept follow. When you learned a language, you not only acquired wisdom, culture, and thinking, but also the spell of words.

Letters and patterns were magical techniques that had their own power. If you looked down on them as just a means of communication, everything would be embodied and pour down upon them. There were no magic words; words were magic. A story was a kind of magic and truth. If you write it as tsurune, it would be called tsurune. A tsurune was the beautiful sound of a bowstring.

Nanao’s sharp hanare brought forth the next wind.

The ochi, Minato, held his bow.

Just how heavy was this shot?

Just how light was this shot?

“I” was the one who gave it meaning. The god of the bow didn’t smile at those who couldn’t love themselves or others. Because humans were incarnations of the gods.

Minato forgot that he was a human and turned into the matooto.

Uyoshiro had three, three, four, two, and four for a total of sixteen hits.

Kazemai had three, four, three, four, four for a total of eighteen hits.

Minato and his team made it through the first round without incident.

The second round began.

The stands were filled with people wearing blue and yellow-green headbands. The two waves struggled, almost swallowing each other up, almost to the point of spilling over onto the yamichi.

Kazemai’s opponent was Konoe High School.

Their blue arrow feathers and headbands were their trademarks.

Only those with kyudo experience would understand the exhilarating feeling of seeing the actions of five people overlap. There were rules even for movements such as taking a step forward, sitting, and nocking an arrow into a bow, and because there were rules, it was possible to match each other. Ikiai was the embodiment of the red droplets that circulated around the body.

They shot arrows every day. The faces were almost the same. The repeated daily routines were a series of miracles. They take up the bow, hoping to grow even just a millimeter better than they were yesterday. For most people, landing a hundred hits with a hundred arrows was just a dream, and it was precisely because they couldn’t do what they wanted to do that they got absorbed in it. The sound of the arrow hitting the target was pleasant, and they wished it would happen again, but the god of hitting was a contrarian. The moment you wished it, the chance escaped. Approaching something without wanting to approach it was nothing but a dilemma for humans, who had developed enlarged brains.

Don’t think, just feel, as a martial artist once said. How long would it take to reach that state? Even if it was achieved, would it be possible to maintain it? If you kept thinking like this, it seemed that you still had a long way to go.

Kazemai’s archers faced themselves in the form of the targets.

The aggressive Kaito, the lively Ryouhei, the intelligent Seiya, the sparkling Nanao, and the pure Minato.

They highlighted and polished their inherent colors.

Their inexperience became a weapon. Even though they were told that there was darkness an inch ahead, they wouldn’t be able to understand unless they looked into it, and they wouldn’t notice it unless they fell into it. Pain was something you only knew when you suffered it, and hate was something you feared only when you possessed it. The cry of the inner soul could only be learned through experience, and words were powerless there. No matter how many words you wrote, they would never be understood by those who never experienced it. Only an archer knew the heart of an archer.

A world of just two people, the bow and the human.

The bow caught the innocent body falling.

The ecstasy a bow gave you was different from that of humans. Skin with goosebumps and surging droplets. It was a ritual to bind the soul that was about to drift away to the body. There was no sound without a container. You couldn’t make a sound with an empty shell.

Minato and the others raised their bows, spread them wide, and released their arrows. Ashibumi, douzukuri, yugamae, uchiokoshi, hikiwake, kai, hanare. They followed these eight stages and headed towards the heights.

The results of the second round were as follows.

Konoe had three, four, four, three, four, for a total of eighteen hits.

Kazemai had four, three, four, four, four, for a total of nineteen hits.

Kazemai won by a difference of one hit.

Since there was some time until the finals, Minato went out to the front.

He wasn’t feeling bad. If anything, he was focusing on calming himself so he didn’t go too fast. A dull mind and a weak body. At first glance, it might seem like a state far removed from martial arts, but eliminating the “self” was the secret to being able to freely manipulate the body. As long as “I” resided in the body, the god of the bow would not descend upon you.

To become empty.

Even if it could be understood as a concept, it was extremely difficult to embody it.

An elderly man called out to Minato.

“It’s almost time for the finals. Just like last year, the match between Kirisaki and Kazemai is a must-see.”

“Thank you very much. But the match between Kirisaki and Haneina is about to begin.”

“No, no, the match is already decided before it even began, right? Did you see the head of those students from Haneina? A chicken’s cockscomb and a horse’s tail. The training clothes they wore in their Yotube streams looked like something from an old marching band. (3) You’re wearing a clean white kyudogi and your hair is neat. It’s praiseworthy. That’s what a Japanese boy should look like.”

“…I do have short hair, and I like white kyudogi. But, if someone is serious about kyudo, I will acknowledge them as an archer no matter what they wear.”

“What’s with that way of talking? Seems like I thought too highly of you.”

The man left. Minato went outside to focus his mind, but he ended up inviting needless interference.

His yellow-green headband was fluttering. It was something a master had prepared for his disciples.

Minato took a deep breath once more.

The card of Kirisaki versus Haneina in the second round got people excited.

Asahina raised the corner of his mouth.

“Nice. It looks great.”

Eddie tied an orange headband tightly.

“I am trembling at the prospect of a worthy opponent, that I am.”

Matsuda, who had poor eyesight, placed his hand on the shoulder of the poet Kanuma. Igarashi started walking while holding flowers. People naturally gave way to them. The existence of Haneina’s kyudo club was already dramatic in itself. The five of them walked leisurely down the flowery path.

The two schools began to enter the shajo, and the spectators held their breath as they watched.

In the first shajo, Eddie raised his bow. His blond ponytail swayed and sparkled in the sunlight. A stop, an upward turn, and a sweeping stroke. His shooting was like the block style of calligraphy. (4) A work of art that changed seven ways depending on the tools, brushstrokes, style, and word selection. His stance was to never prepare practice sheets, but always treat it as though it was the real thing. He quickly drew back his brush, and the arrow flew towards the target.

The second, Matsuda, hit.

The third, Kanuma, hit.

The fourth, Igarashi, hit.

The fifth, Asahina, begun to raise his bow. His red hair stood out against the green grass. His self-confidence and warm-hearted personality brought out the bright sun. When he drew his bow, his limbs stretched to infinity. The matooto resounded.

Kirisaki also matched their pace.

The oomae, Kabashima, hit.

The nimato, Senichi, hit.

The naka, Kuon, hit.

The ochimae, Yushima, hit.

When the ochi Shuu hit, the scoring board was lined with circle marks.

No one missed their second shot as well. The sound of the matooto and the cheers of the crowd made their bodies numb, and the elation made them desire more and more matooto. They became greedier and greedier.

Kuon was confident that he would never lose to the red-headed guy. If they went on to win, he would be placed in the same picture frame as the Young Prince, Fujiwara Shuu. What a beautiful picture it would be!

He melted into the world of images.

Now, let’s sneak in.

This was Tsujimine High School.

A boy with the hood of his white hoodie pulled deeply over his head walked over. A boy with streaked hair was standing a little further away. He stole the key from the staff room and hid it in his pocket.

Nikaidou and Fuwa were in the music room. They stood in front of the piano and gently opened the lid.

Along with Fuwa’s piano melody, Nikaidou played the drums using his hands and knees. He was very into music games and could even reach an uncanny level of fast drumming in games like Kotaiko no Tatsujin.

One day, after club activities, Nikaidou was tapping a rhythm on his knees on a whim when Fuwa correctly guessed the name of the song.

“Konahanasakuya-hime.”

“…Correct.”

Since then, the sneak-in sessions, not street piano, had continued.

Konohanasakuya-hime no Mikoto, the origin of the song’s title, was the name of the most beautiful goddess in the history of Japanese mythology. Her father was Ooyamatsumi no Mikoto, and her husband was Ninigi no Mikoto, grandson of Amaterasu Oomikami. Her husband accused her of infidelity, and in order to prove her innocence, she set fire to the delivery room and gave birth to three children in the flames.

When the two of them were babies, they had a scarlet seal stamped onto their faces at a festival called Hatsuyama to pray for their healthy growth. It felt creepy thinking that they might have passed by each other somewhere.

Fuwa began to play a song. As he proceeded at a walking pace, Nikaidou stood next to him.

A fearless smile—the start of a duet.

My fingertips hit the keyboard. The melody, chords, and bass line. Nikaidou sped up the main melody while adding improvisations. There was no way Fuwa wouldn’t take up this challenge.

“Nikaidou, can you keep to my speed?”

“Hah, there’s no way I’m following you.”

“Good grief.”

Fuwa ignored Nikaidou and decided to go fast. He was crafty with techniques such as giving someone glimpses and keeping them in suspense. Fuwa always kept his distance from others. Though he had purposely drawn a line telling them not to come over, those who crossed that line were, so to speak, prey. There was no need to hold back. He would shake them, shake them, shake them until they begged for forgiveness.

Nikaidou attended piano lessons when he was a child, but quit after learning “Turkish March” and had been studying on his own ever since. On the other hand, Fuwa’s mother was a piano teacher. Knowing the difference in their abilities, Nikaidou devised a plan. He tried to find rhythms that players might not be comfortable with, such as lowering the key by a semitone or changing chords.

Fuwa made full use of his techniques. Nikaidou clicked his tongue, then reached over Fuwa’s arm and hit a high key. It was more of a fierce battle than a fun session. Sound and breathing filled the room. The music room wasn’t air conditioned in order to prevent unauthorized use. If the sound leaked out, the shame would be unbearable. They played the whole song while sweating.

“It’s not fun at all playing with you,” Fuwa muttered.

“Same here.”

“Get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve always been an arrogant king, Koushirou.”

Nikaidou took off his white hoodie. His body was hot and he was breathing heavily. He reached into his bag to get something to wipe off his sweat and grabbed a towel and his phone.

The results of the prefectural tournament where Minato and the others were in were displayed on the screen.

“…Oh man. I think I’m gonna laugh.”

“You laughing by yourself isn’t a good thing. Alright, I’ll ask. What happened?”

“Kirisaki lost in the second round of the final tournament.”

“What!?”

Fuwa stared into Nikaidou’s large eyes.

“That’s a big upset. Who was their opponent?”

“It’s the school of the Yotubers Asahina and Eddie. Shuu-kun really is a lovely man. As expected, my special won’t let me down. I wonder if Minato-chan will entertain me as well.”

Nikaidou loosened the collar of his white shirt.

After the wind that had been blowing since the morning calmed down, an incredibly bright blue sky spread out above Shuu’s head.

Kirisaki had nineteen hits.

Haneina had twenty hits.

The powerhouse Kirisaki High School was defeated in the second round of the prefectural tournament.

Under the sunlight, the Kirisaki members calmly began cleaning up. “We all did well,” the president Kabashima exclaimed, and Yushima smiled and said, “It’s been a fulfilling three years. I’m grateful to everyone,” but Senichi and Manji couldn’t hide the heaviness of their steps. They endured the overwhelming mixture of feelings of inadequacy and jealousy toward those who had earned the smile of the goddess of victory.

There was only one person who missed in this team, and that was Kuon. Despite the weather having returned to calm, he looked as though he had inhaled a cloud of dust.

One could almost hear the crunching sound of it.

“Fujiwara-senpai, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“But, still! Even if it’s to yell at me, please just say something to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

Shuu left without saying any more.

Devastated, Kuon turned to face the person who appeared in the corner of his vision.

Minato, who was going to talk to Shuu, saw what happened.

“Kuon-kun, it’s usual for Shuu to not express his thoughts after a match. Don’t worry about it,” he told him, then immediately followed Shuu.

Kuon stared at Minato’s back and bit his lip.

Was he pitying me?

Who on earth were you talking to when you said “don’t worry about it?”

I can’t believe someone of the lower class is looking down on me!

Minato had no clue about Kuon’s delusions. He was running after someone he must not lose sight of.

He shouted the name of his brother disciple.

“Shuu!”

Shuu turned around and smiled. It was all he could to not drop his bow.

“I’m sorry, Minato. I wasn’t able to fulfill our promise to meet in the finals. It seems that I don’t have any luck with team matches.”

“That’s not true, Shuu. You’re my first bow friend—a genuine archer. We met at that kyudojo when we were little.”

“Minato.”

“Someday, we will definitely team up together.”

“…Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

What a cruel person.

You were the one who lit this fire under me.

God of the bow, please save me.

We are babies who don’t know anything. Although no ships nor people have arrived there, the sun is a red, blazing star that will someday turn to dust. We never witnessed the beginning and end of the story, and we believe in an empty dream that cannot be verified. Dreams are seen when one is asleep. People are still sleeping. A dream from which we can never wake. In the darkness, only my old friend knows what I did. Only you can burn me to ashes.

Shuu touched Minato’s forehead with his yugake-covered hand. His cold fingers were trembling.

He couldn’t let go of that unforgettable body warmth.

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#tsurune translation #tsurune

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memories-of-ancients · 1 year ago

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The Kojindani Sword Find,

In 1983 some construction workers near Kojindani, Japan were busy building a logging road when they stumbled upon one of the greatest archaeological finds of Japanese history. The area around Kojindani is known for many Yayoi Period ruins and sites, however this find would become a national treasure of Japan. Discovered at the site was a hoard of bronze weapons, 358 swords, 16 spearhead and halberds, as well as 6 bronze bells. The Yayoi Period (300 BC - 300 AD) is a little known period of history and not a lot of written records exist from the era. The Kojindani sword find is important for fleshing out a little known era of Japanese history.

The swords themselves were found stashed in eleven rows, almost as if in storage.

None of the swords or other weapons were sharpened, leading to the theory that they might not have been actual weapons but ceremonial pieces. They could also have been blanks, saved to be sharpened some time in the future. Each measure between 50 to 53 cm’s long (19 - 20 inches). Today the entire collection is housed in the Shimane Museum of Ancient Izumo. At the Kojindani sight itself the swords, spearheads, and bells have been replaced with realistic looking replicas.

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blurredcolour · 11 months ago

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I Wish You Love | Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The end of the war feels so near and yet still so far off. Questions of the future and feelings of impatience plague you and Lewis equally.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Lots of Kissing, Sexual Tension and Innuendos, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Surprise (as in no surprise whatsoever), this is not the final part of this series. There is one more part, because Bee does not know how to be brief. Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 4378

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

Perhaps it was the English in you, but no matter how deliriously giddy you felt at the hopeful tone of Captain Nixon’s reply, you still found it necessary to make things absolutely clear. To add a strong dose of realism and seek confirmation of things in concrete terms. Settling in at the kitchen table once dinner had been cleaned up after and your father was properly ensconced in his favourite chair, listening to the wireless, you pulled out your writing supplies and took a direct approach.

Lewis, in all his Americanness, was having none of it. His response arrived promptly, two weeks later.

Four long months passed. Eight more letters crossed the Channel, four apiece. Spring blossomed before wilting into heat of summer. Germany surrendered. The Japanese held on until mid-August. You managed to assemble an untold number of shells without injury, though the skin of your face and hands as well as the halo of hair around your face became tinged as yellow as your fellow canary girls.

Word came from Austria that Johnny was on his way home, after six long years away. The universe works in mysterious ways, leading both of the men you cared for most in all the world to Austria to manage the occupation after Germany’s surrender. Lewis had kept you up to date on the dissolution of his marriage – the loss of his treasured dog Edgar, as well as his house, and custody of his son. You did your best to remain reassuring and supportive in your letters, reminding him of the untold potential of your future together.

Your immediate future, however, was somewhat more precarious. With so many men returning home from the war, employment was in high demand and the expectation was for women to return to the roles they had occupied before 1939 – where they ‘belonged.’ You were grateful you had lived well within your means, accumulating sufficient savings to see you through the end of your job at the factory in July and the seemingly endless search for new work since. With the effects of TNT still tainting your appearance, work in a shop was out of the question – such establishments immediately turning their noses up at you.

You had picked up a few clients as a charwoman, but unless you found many more, and quick, things were going to become very difficult indeed. Making your way home one midday at the end of August, you smoothed a hand over your hair, feeling positively overheated and unkempt after a particularly demanding morning scrubbing Mr. and Mrs. Danes house. As you rounded the corner of the lane you’d lived on most of your life, your feet stuttered to a stop at sight of the figure leaning against the front of the building of flats, sharing a cigarette with your father.

Neither of them had spotted you yet, and you swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the dashing appearance of Captain Lewis Nixon in his dress uniform, sporting the short cut Eisenhower jacket that showed off his trim waist and long legs. You could not have felt more drab in your worn work dress, wishing desperately you could dash inside and freshen up but there was nothing for it now as he had lifted his eyes. You could see his smile from half a block away as he began striding towards you confidently, flicking his cigarette into the street as he rapidly closed the distance.

With small, hopefully furtive, movements you did your best to tidy your hair and the fall of your dress against your body.

“Darling.” Lewis smiled warmly, capturing your hands, ceasing your fretting as his long fingers enveloped yours. His eyes raked over your face with an expression that carried nothing but wonder.

If you had felt warm before, hearing the term of endearment he’d begun to use in his letters fall from his lips was akin to walking on the surface of the sun. “Lewis.” You breathed shakily, swallowing tightly at the brilliant grin he bestowed upon you in response as his hands squeezed yours tightly.

“Christ, you are a wonder to behold.” He murmured stepping closer and you raised an eyebrow skeptically as you very much felt otherwise. “No, I insist.” One broad hand slid to your waist, your heart racing as you found your own feet shuffling closer, your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously. His eyes dropped to focus on your mouth a moment before his adam’s apple bobbed rapidly. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He warned you softly, gripping your waist with both hands now as he pulled you closer still.

The most you could manage in response was a rapid nod before his mouth was upon yours, lips gentle at first, moving slowly before they became insistent and eager. Fingers gripping at his biceps, curling into the fabric of his jacket, you tilted your head back in surrender, mouth pliant beneath his. He tasted of tobacco, smelled of his intoxicating aftershave and something that was uniquely Lewis. You could only hope there was something to recommend you in that moment and were heartened as he pulled you somehow even tighter to him, eliminating the last millimetres of space between your bodies.

Lewis’s lips pulled back from yours slowly, allowing you to suck in a shuddering breath as he pressed his face to your hair, an action he’d often described in his letters, realized at last. “Darling…” He whispered once more, tenderly, and you slid your arms around his shoulders to hold him fully.

“Welcome back, Lewis.” You sighed, finally allowing relief to wash over you.

“Thank you.” His lips brushed against your temple before he straightened slowly, fingers tracing along your jaw tenderly. “Your father tells me you should have some time to spend with me this afternoon?”

You tried not to frown at the reminder of all the free time you had on your hands, the economic implications thereof, and nodded gently. “I would like that very much, but whether you admit it or not I look a fright. Please let me change and freshen up?”

“You’re right, I’ll never admit it, because it’ll never be true.” He smirked and stole one last kiss before tucking your arm into his, leading you back towards your flat.

You noted your father had retreated inside to give you some privacy – as much privacy as one could be afforded in the middle of the street, of course, but you appreciated the thought, nonetheless. You stopped on the threshold and turned to Lewis quickly. “It’s no Lydiard House, I warn you.”

“Thank god.” He smiled reassuringly, hand settling on your lower back, a flock of butterflies fluttering erratically in your abdomen as you led him inside your humble home where you father was happily reading the newspaper.

“Will you two be all right if I take a moment to change?” You asked your father and he smirked.

“We’ve been alright for the past two hours, sweet pea, off you pop.” He shooed you towards the bedroom where your meagre wardrobe was stored and you glanced at Lewis, startled to learn he’d been waiting for you that long.

“Take your time.” He nodded, settling onto the worn sofa easily.

The world seemed quite off-kilter for a moment, Lewis occupying a space so separate from that in which you had known him, and yet how many hours had you spent thinking of him while sitting on that very sofa? Smiling slowly as everything seemed to slide into its new place of belonging, you stepped into the bedroom to pull one of your nicer dresses from the closet you shared with your father. Taking it to the bathroom, you freshened up and tamed your hair, feeling much better armed to face to world as you emerged, stowing your work clothes into the hamper before you rejoined them in the sitting room.

Lewis immediately rose to his feet on your return, a shy smile tugging at your lips fondly as your father looked up from his paper.

“I do hope the pair of you are going to spend your afternoon out in the sunshine and not in here with this old bore.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “And don’t even bother telling me you’ll be home for dinner, I’m perfectly capable of eating at the pub.”

You closed your mouth quickly, your father killing that thought before you could voice it. Grabbing your handbag, you looked up as Lewis spoke.

“I was hoping to take both of you out to dinner tomorrow night, sir?” He offered hopefully.

“That would be very generous of you, thank you. Now, on your bike.” Your father snapped his paper back into place to hide his growing grin and Lewis laced your fingers together before leading you outside, sliding his garrison cap back onto his luscious hair.

“How did you manage to get over here? I thought they were shipping you back to New York?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

“I have a few days and then the boat leaves from Marseille. I couldn’t leave before seeing you.”

You watched as he lifted your hands to press his lips to your knuckles gently. “Thank you.” You breathed softly and he looked to you tenderly.

“I’m the one with the debt of gratitude. Will you allow me some leeway to begin repaying you for all your kindness?” The way his warm brown eyes were boring into yours, framed by his long lashes, was threatening to make your knees knock together.

Taking a steadying breath, you shook your head firmly. “You say that like you have not somehow become the centre of my entire world, Lewis.” You countered weakly. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t forgiven me…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, shifting to whisper into your ear. “Then let me spoil you simply because I love you.”

His breath against your skin made you shiver before the meaning of his words registered and you pulled back to look at him, eyes wide. “Lewis…” Your gaze skittered across his face, drinking in the hopeful glint in his eyes, the way he held his breath awaiting your response, before you hesitantly leaned forward to brush your lips against his. “I love you too.” You barely had time to exhale before he cupped your cheek to kiss you deeply.

Pulled back to bestow a warm grin on you, he squeezed your hand softly. “Allow me to lead you to the car before I give you a reputation on your street.”

With a breathless laugh you nodded, following him over to the civilian vehicle that you had no idea from where he’d procured, sliding into the passenger’s seat on the lefthand side. “You’re a very mysterious man, Lewis Nixon.” You shook your head as he climbed in beside you, driving off easily.

“I hope not, or I intend not to be. I don’t like keeping secrets from you, darling. I much prefer being completely open and honest with you.”

You smiled fondly as your heart throbbed in your chest. “Where are we going, then?”

“Your father allowed me to check the pictures playing at your local cinema and it seems there is an afternoon showing of the Wizard of Oz – I thought you might enjoy that?” He glanced over at you, smiling when you nodded quickly. “Then some window-shopping and dinner?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the second activity, but dinner certainly sounded lovely. “That sounds like a wonderful day.”

“Good.” He nodded, navigating his way through the narrow streets until he found the cinema and a parking spot.

The pair of you arrived just in time to purchase a few snacks and settle into the half-empty theatre. Mid-afternoon was not a very popular time on a weekday, after all.

“I haven’t been to see a film in years.” You whispered as he lifted the armrest to snake his arm around your waist and pull you close, making you bite your lip.

“Me neither.” He admitted, resting his fingers against your hip softly as the picture started.

You knew you shouldn’t let him hold you so close, particularly not in such a public place, and yet it was dark in the theatre and in all honestly you probably could not have born any distance between you, needing him as near as possible after so long apart. After falling so deeply in love with him. It did, however, make it awfully difficult to focus on the film. Your eyes continued to flick between the screen and his profile, inhaling deeply, enjoying the press of him along your side despite the added warmth of his body heat.

Somehow you did manage to remember to pay attention to the scene where Dorothy’s home landed after the twister, gnawing your lip in anticipation as she made her way to the front door and inhaling in wonder as the colourful land of Oz lay on the other side. The transition held just as much magic as it had the only other time you’d seen the film, a grin unfurling on your face as she wandered through the quaint village, passed the pond filled with lotus leaves. As your eyes inevitably shifted to sneak a look at Lewis you jumped slightly as they met his own directly, already watching you intently with a fond smile on his face.

Wordlessly he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips before turning back to the screen with a very pleased expression on his face. Sharing your treats, you enjoyed the film together in companionable silence, not a hairsbreadth of space between you, until the lights came up.

“That was even better than the first time I saw it thank you, Lewis.”

“I’m very glad, you’re welcome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before you shuffled out with the rest of the crowd.

The brilliant sunshine of midday had since been replaced by heavy clouds, rain threatening as Lewis took your hand and led you across the street to a rather upscale department store – one that you certainly had never shopped at before.

“Lewis, I didn’t bring my ration book…” You murmured nervously as he held the door open for you.

“Not to worry, we’re only window-shopping, not a shilling will be spent.” He winked, taking your arm once you were both inside and leading you around, getting your opinions on all sorts of things. Men’s clothing, women’s, toys, trinkets, before leading you over to the jewelry counters.

“Good lord…” You breathed at some of the more ostentatious engagement rings they had on display with massive diamonds.

Lewis smirked at you as he leaned against the case. “A bit much for your taste, darling?”

“Entirely too much.” You nodded firmly. “I don’t know how a woman could accomplish anything with a ring that size on her finger.”

“I suppose she wouldn’t be expected to, but that sort of life doesn’t really seem your speed does it.”

Looking to him slowly as this conversation took on a rather layered meaning, you shook your head. “No, I don’t think it would. Even if I did not need an income, I would most definitely need a purpose.”

“Noted.” He replied with a nod before moving towards a more modest selection. “Are these a little more to your liking then?”

Swallowing dryly you gave him a slow nod. “They are quite nice, yes.” You nodded, feeling suddenly rather nervous. Not in a bad way, but your heart most certainly could not remember how to beat properly despite you trying to remind yourself that it was only ‘window-shopping.’

Sensing your distress, Lewis led you over to inspect the necklaces, your tension easing without rows of engagement rings on display in front of you. After sampling a few perfumes, he smiled to you. “Ready for dinner?”

“Are you certain you didn’t need to make any sort of purchases?”

“That would be against the premise of window-shopping darling, was there anything you needed though?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shook your head, glancing back toward the store before turning to him.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You replied stubbornly and he squeezed your hand, the pair of your heading back outside as thunder rumbled long and low along the darkening street.

“I hope we can make it back to car.” He glanced at you quickly and you both immediately started hurrying your steps.

The skies opened up then and you quickly darted beneath the awning of a small shop that seemed to be closed for the day, yanking Lewis beneath its shelter as sheets of rain began to come down.

“Damn…” He laughed, shaking his head as you giggled softly in reply.

“Shouldn’t last long, doesn’t usually when summer storms pop up like this.” A brilliant flash of lightning cut through the gloom making you flinch and step closer to him, the resulting thunder startling you in turn.

“I’ve got you darling, nothing to worry about.” He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest comfortingly as the rain fell so hard it rebounded off the pavement, practically obscuring the world outside your tiny dry square of shelter.

Reaching out to caress his cheek gratefully, his lips met yours halfway, seemingly unable to resist one another after so many months of denial. Lewis’s hand splayed across your lower back, moulding you to him as his tongue swept into your mouth, drawing a reflexive whimper from your throat. Giving in to impulse, you allowed your fingers to slide into the dark locks of his hair beneath his cap as his tongue dragged along yours, making it awfully difficult to keep on your feet.

The sound of the rain and intermittent crashes of thunder faded away into the background, all your focus drawn onto the man in your arms and your stolen moment amidst the chaos around you. Time became irrelevant as all sensation narrowed to his excruciatingly thorough kiss and the way it raised your body temperature, your body itself raising onto your tip toes to crush against his torso wantonly. A hum of approval rumbled through his chest, which you felt more than heard courtesy of the early evening thunderstorm, a tremor running through you in silent reply.

Lewis’s lips wrenched back from yours, his chest heaving, his normally rich brown eyes darkened by something you’d never seen before, something wild, primal. It made your thighs clench slightly to see it, his nostrils flaring as he surely felt the motion given that you were very much still pressed against him. You stared at one another, unmoving, silent, yet in your hazy state you still managed to note that the tumult around you was easing up, the other side of the street becoming visible through the curtain of rain.

“Dinner.” He eventually exhaled, taking a reluctant step back to reintroduce a respectable distance.

“Mmm.” You replied nonsensically with a nod of affirmation as the rain petered out to no more than a mist, frantic drips falling from the awning in the aftermath of the squall.

Lewis eyed you intensely a moment, swallowing visibly before wrenching his gaze from your face and continuing back towards the car with your hand tucked into his elbow. By the time the pair of you arrived at a rather nice, but not too nice, restaurant you’d both managed to regain a sense of composure. Lewis navigated the menu and wine list expertly and you were happy to let him do so, rather afraid to look at the prices.

His choices were impeccable, some of the best you’d ever eaten, certainly since before the start of the war, and though you were growing tired at the end of the evening as he pulled up to the flat you shared with your father, you were also loath for it to end.

“Where are you staying?” Your eyes widened as you realized you’d forgotten to ask such a pivotal question.

“The Goddard Arms, it’s quite suitable – far superior to a fox hole at any rate. May I pick you up around the same time tomorrow?”

Running through your mental list of clients, you nodded, noting happily you would have some time to change before his arrival. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Perfect. I’d like to take you on a drive and a picnic, just so you can plan your wardrobe accordingly.” He winked teasingly. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He slid from the car as you laughed warmly, coming around to open your door and help you from the vehicle.

As he led you up the walk and into the building, you smiled to him softly. “Today was incredible, Lewis, thank you very much.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, I intend to outdo myself tomorrow.” He smirked and you smothered your laugh behind your hand, not wanting to disrupt the neighbours.

“Sleep well then, best to keep up your strength.” You teased before your eyes widened slightly at the unintended innuendo.

“Please, I beg you, don’t tempt me anymore than you already are, darling.” He muttered, voice taking on a dangerous tone as he leaned in to kiss you fiercely.

You clung to his shoulders, feeling quite at risk of being swept away by his intensity, breath shaking as he pulled back.

“Good night.” He rasped.

You nodded, speechless and fumbling with the door to the flat before eventually making it inside.

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

Read Part Five

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #hbo war fic #band of brothers imagine #lewis nixon #band of brothers #easy company

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 5 months ago

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Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M: WARNINGS: smut, blowjob, wife giving, husband receiving, arranged marriage, yada, yada, yada...

Before the Warring States and Tokugawa shogunate, archeologists estimated there were once 30,000 palaces and fortresses scattered throughout Japan. When Tokugawa Ieyasu’s power waned and the Meiji era rose to prominence, that figure dwindled to a gapping 200. And by the dawn of the 20th century, combined with the wake of World War II, and the quick, sudden death of the Japanese aristocracy, the loss of palatial infrastructure was so great that some palaces were either voluntarily dismantled or left for scrap.

The Cultural Property Preservation Law, thus upending the Kokuhō Hozon-hō of 1929, currently recognized 62 castle gates and 61 turrets across 27 estates as being Jūyō Bunkazai (重要文化財) or “Important Cultural Properties.” Of those 27 estates, seven “original” palaces held the designation, with five additional palaces bestowed the higher designation of “National Treasure.”

Like her seven proud sisters, Hirosaki Castle was one of the palaces designated an Important Cultural Property, and the most well-preserved castle in northern Japan. In the 400 years since her construction under the Tsugaru clan, she’d housed many a samurai and seen much of war. The beating heart of Hirosaki City, her plastered white walls, curved tiled roofs, and earthen ramparts had survived a devastating fire in 1627 from the likes of a lightning bolt striking the central tower, and was reduced from having a five level Tenshu to three come 1810. Her domain spanned across 124 acres and included a bailey containing five original yaguramon (tower gates), three towers, and a guardhouse, each with their own name and classification, which was now accessible to the public as a national park and museum. And, as with all major palaces, a large lake garden (originally moats) circumfretted the estate in Japanese maple and ginkgo and other local fauna.

None was this garden’s beauty more appreciated than in autumn, when late October favored the occasion for Hirosaki Castle’s Annual Chrysanthemum and Autumn Foliage Festival.

Hannah was ecstatic.

Their weekend trip to Hirosaki Castle would mark her very first festival. Satoru planned to take her during Obon - as its festivals were quite popular - but work got in the way and he’d been forced to depart on a last-minute mission, to his great reluctance. He figured it was time for a change in scenery, and the suffusion of chrysanthemums and flower decor was sure to suit Hannah’s fancy.

To his pure delight, she’d been buzzing in her seat the entire train ride. The journey from Tokyo to Hirosaki City took almost five hours by train, but granted onlookers the opportunity to capture Japan’s natural beauty. As a small gift, Satoru had bought Hannah a brand new Nikon camera, which she quickly put to use. Every few minutes or so, he’d sneak her snapping a picture of the passing autumnal mountainscape, tongue sticking out as she focused the lens, her hazel eyes wide and innocently transfixed. “Pretty,” he’d hear her whisper. The sight made his chest ease and his tummy flutter. This was what love felt like. Ugh, adorable.

The cute pink puffer jacket she wore and pom-pom hat shaped like a polar bear made her all the more adorable. The weather was forecasted to be quite cold. He had stuffed her mittens inside his coat pockets in case she needed them.

“Say cheese,” she sang, facing the camera towards him.

Satoru was in the middle of slurping a hot cocoa, he hadn’t had time to wipe his face before the Nikon went “click.”

Hannah couldn’t contain her giggle as she sat back down and showed him the result, gushing. Satoru leaned over her shoulder.

Yup, she got him good. The photo caught the Six Eyes wielder completely off guard, a blinking look of surprise marring his face, strewn with a mustache of whipped cream atop his upper lip. His oval sunglasses were sliding off his nose.

“Gotcha,” she gloated.

Satoru scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “You just got lucky,” and hurriedly swiped the cream off his lips.

Hannah beamed him a winning smile and giggled again, her freckled cheeks rosy as could be. She was really pretty when she smiled. It gave Satoru an idea.

“Hey, I got a better one for ya.” He dished out his phone and waved his finger. “C’mere.”

Hannah tilted her head, curious at what he was planning, but scooted on closer. Satoru took off his sunglasses and folded them in his lap. Protectively, she felt his arm drape over her shoulders, embracing her to him. Comfortable with their position, he then angled the phone in front of them and switched the camera to “selfie mode.” He sweetly rested his chin atop her head, smelling the lavender in her shampoo.

“Smile.”

Realizing now what he was up to, Hannah cuddled into him and smiled up at the camera.

His thumb tapped the button.

Wedded bliss frozen in time. The selfie had been their first taken as husband and wife. Their very first picture, on their way to Hannah’s very first autumn festival. Memories they’d look back on when they were old and grey, when life would become tough and the world a mess. But this. This was theirs to keep forever. A happiness no tragedy or disaster could upend. A marriage. A family.

“Not bad,” Satoru hummed.

“Yeah,” agreed Hannah, marveling at the Six Eyes, so nacreous and blue. Couldn’t replicate that color even if you tried. “We should have it framed when we get home. It can go on your nightstand.”

“Yeah.” This received her a loving peck on the cheek. “I’d like that. Good thinking. And Hannah?”

“Mmm?” she peered up at him.

He winked, showing her his camera screen again, this time with a picture of him having just kissed her cheek.

“Gotcha.”

One of the five go-sekku, Chrysanthemums festivals were first introduced to Japan via China, who venerated the autumn flower for its timeless beauty and medicinal properties. It was believed steeping the petals in a hot tea could elongate one's life and cure aches and pains. For that reason, it was popular for palaces and Buddhist shrines to plant mums in gardens. The Imperial Seal of Japan, stamped on every passport and royal document, also bore the bloom as its emblem, and many poets and artists used the herbaceous flora for inspiration. Some restaurants even utilized the petals as a garnish when serving sashimi.

Hannah knew mums belonged to the Asteraceae family, placing them in the same grouping as daisies, dahlias, and zinnias. In fact, a lesser known name for a chrysanthemum was a “florist’s daisy.” They came in a variety of cultivars and colours; mostly reds, yellows, and purples, some with long, spider-like petals that stretched outwards like sea anemones, others more compact with tightly-round layers reminiscent of doll faces. Cheerey as could be.

The Hirosaki Castle gardens were rife with them, exhibiting a magnanimous array of species and shapes. Atsumono. Kudamono. Ichimonji. Every variant one could think of. Hannah took her time admiring the flower beds, zooming her camera to capture the perfect photo.

They departed for Hirosaki Castle immediately after checking into their inn. Satoru didn’t want a place too far and optioned for a location within walking distance; a ryokan owned by a kind elderly couple 15 mins from the castle. They took their key, dropped their bags, and arrived at the castle by early afternoon, more than enough time to enjoy the festival and eat lunch.

“A lot of people here today,” Hannah commented when they crossed the palace gates. She was right. There were a lot of people, but Satoru said it only elevated the experience. The more the merrier.

At least, that’s what he told her. In truth, this was no time to slack off. Hannah has to stay with you at all times, rang Nanami’s voice. The Six Eyes wielder scanned the area for any potential adversaries. It already bothered him that a pair of perverted young men, who were clearly from the countryside and had never seen a foreigner before, were taking random snapshots of his wife without her knowledge. He’d issued them the most menacing glare. Get lost. The tourists would catch the flash of his eyes and immediately hightail it in the other direction. That’s right, dweebs, keep your dicks in your pants. She’s mine.

They toured the rows of chrysanthemum gardens. Horticulturists had weaved storytelling into that year’s displays. Lifesize dolls, covered head to toe in real flowers, brought to life many of the folktales passed down by tradition, including historic figures like Lord Tsuguru walking amongst the flowers, he too partaking in the festivities like his subjects, katana strapped to his waist.

The most striking red maples Satoru had ever seen cloaked the surrounding forest in fire, made more intense by the brightness of the autumn sun. At night, spotlights would illuminate the maples, so only the scarlet leaves were visible amongst the shadows, making the viewing more memorable for garden enthusiasts. They’d be sure to return come sunset to see for themselves.

For a low admission fee, Hirosaki Castle could be seen up close and toured on the inside. Except, upon arriving, the size of the castle bore little semblance to what they imagined.

“It’s so tiny,” Hannah squealed, pretending to squish the castle between her fingers. “How cute.”

“Kind of a let down,” Satoru muttered. He had yet to see the castle in person until now.

Hannah took his hand. “I wanna go in, c’mon.”

This was easier said than done. Standing 6’3 had its drawbacks. The door leading inside the castle was so squat and narrow, Satoru had to bow half-way to fit through, while his wife sauntered in like it was made for her. The castle’s interior was nothing special (in his opinion), just a gift shop and a video detailing the current renovations plans. However, there was an alarmingly steep flight of stairs with a red warning sign nailed to the wall. Satoru was close to having a mini heart attack, watching his wife hobble up the creaking wooden boards. He kept a ready hand on her bum, following close behind. The way down was more perilous, him holding onto her hand afraid she’d slip and roll an ankle. By the time they’d finished roaming the small castle, Satoru felt he had a permanent crick in his back.

The boat ride was much more relaxing. He and Hannah boarded a little isobune, oarred by a retired fisherman, who glided them around the moat. The cascade of falling orange and gold leaves landing atop the water was breathtaking as they passed under a red bridge, and the unshaded sun felt good on their faces, despite the chilly weather. Hannah rested her head along Satoru’s arm and closed her eyes, listening to the water churn against the oar and a lark singing in the distance. The world at peace.

They ate rice balls and fish sticks and caramelized apples from a vendor parked along the garden path. Then finished their day with scouting the nursery where visitors could buy bushels of chrysanthemums and ornate bonsai. Hannah was tempted, but thought the chrysanthemums they had back home were better.

At last, the sun dipped behind the northern mountains. The Gojo couple stuck around to take pictures of the illuminated maple trees. The pathway had become so dark. It was difficult to see anything other than the red and gold leaves. The rest was pitch black.

“Oh, Satoru. Look at these.” Hannah raced towards a group of maples she’d spotted.

There was a rustling noise. Unsettling laughter.

“You could do it, Satoru…The impossible.”

Satoru hurriedly whipped around.

“Even that has meaning…”

But saw nothing. No one was there. The wind. Perhaps it was the wind. Yes, it was only the wind.

“Satoru?” Hannah called concernedly from ahead.

Deep breaths, Satoru. He was hearing things. It was all in his head. The Six Eyes would’ve seen him.

“Yeah, coming, sweetheart.”

That night they laid together in bed, skin to skin. It was smart of them to eat when they did. Most restaurants were closed by the time they arrived back at their ryokan. Hannah was busy massaging his hands, running her little fingers over the minuscule scars and toughened calluses, relieving the tension in his joints. Felt good.

“Have you always liked being a giant?” she mused, halting her massage to splay her palm over his, not even half its size.

He grinned at her hyperbole, giving off a meager shrug. “There’s advantages, I guess. Makes me faster, stronger, but it also attracts unwanted attention. I can’t hide for shit.”

“True,” Hannah stipulated. “You do tend to stand out in a crowd.”

“Mmhm.” He absentmindedly began twisting the gold wedding band on her finger. Part of him contemplated whether buying her a diamond ring to go with it. Like they do in the movies.

“But I’d say you wear it rather well.”

He stopped twisting and huffed tiredly. “Not much choice in that regard. For me, it’s either fear the spotlight or embrace it. There's really no third option.”

Hannah planted a reassuring kiss on his chest near his heart.

“What about you?” he countered. “How have you liked being a mouse?”

She took slight umbridge at that. “I’m not a mouse.”

“Fine, a very cute mouse.”

She swatted him lightly before returning her head to his chest. “I suppose it has its upsides.” Her voice held a somber note as she traced his pectorals.”I can fade into the background whenever I want. No one cares if I’m here or there…”

He sensed she hadn’t finished. “But?”

“But that’s just it. No one cares what happens to a nobody.”

He brought the dainty hand tracing his muscles to his lips, kissing its knuckles.

“Try convincing me of that.”

Hannah smiled, thinking he was too good to be true and any moment she’d wake up from this dream. After so many years living a barely-there existence, this sense of belonging, of being wanted, was more than her prayers could answer. What a blessing to have this man in her life, despite the political circumstances surrounding their union. He deserved everything for making her this happy. She would gladly give what little she had, be it words or her body.

A titillating warmth pooled inside her stomach, spreading between her thighs, desirous and hungry, not quite satiated by their earlier round of sex. Propping herself on her elbows, her lips sought the company of his own. He welcomed them greedily, tongue slipping inside her mouth to lean in deeper for a taste. A languid moan hovered on the edge of her throat as she rolled her body on top of him, begging to be nearer, closer.

Satoru’s hands cupped her ass, kneading the soft flesh like mounds of dough. He too stifled a groan as her lips broke away and began trailing hot, steamy kisses down his neck, sucking and licking his collarbone. The hands cupping her bare ass squeezed harder as she worked her way towards his nipple, giving it a few teasing flicks. She lowered her hands, letting them run over the contour of his abs, down, down, down. He felt the jolt of electricity percolate through his spine to the very tip of his penis, pulsing incessantly.

Damn, she was learning fast, he thought, having recently confessed his secret like for nippie action. He reckoned he was rock solid now.

“Saaa~tor~uuuu,” she sang.

Holy fuck, and that voice. She could trick him into committing mass murder with that angel-sweet voice. The sway it had over him. Seemed like only yesterday she was standing in her wedding kimono, stuttering, too nervous to make eye contact till he forcibly grabbed her chin. Her confidence had since skyrocketed. For lack of a better analogy, she was playing him like a finely-tuned fiddle and he was powerless to fight her.

“Hannah,” he moaned, once her hand reached under to cup his balls. He surrendered a sharp gasp. She weighed them in her palm, gyrating them slowly just as he instructed her, careful not to hurt him.

“Yes, darling?” Her other hand reached over to grip the hard length of his cock, pressing loving circles into the base with her thumb. Then, gentle as a lamb, pulling it downwards, unfurling the delicate foreskin to reveal the slick head underneath.

For fuck’s sake.

“Is this alright, love?” she purred amorously. “Do you want me to stop?”

Only then did he realize he was short of breath.

“No,” he panted. “Never.”

Hannah held a serene, sated look on her face, not the kind born of selfish lust or sheer dominance, but of total adoration. “Okay then.” She pecked him on the lips for good luck and joined her thumb and index together just as he taught her, hovering them inches above his erection. “Ready?”

He gulped once and gave a swift nod. The hand came down.

His moans were immutable by that point, though, frankly, he didn’t give a shit. Because each second of his wife’s goddess-like touch, her magic fingers stroking his cock up and down, brought him closer to heaven.

“I know you’ve been stressed lately,” she soothed between strokes. “Just tell me when, darling.”

Boy, wasn’t that the truth. The threat of Suguru’s reemergence placed everyone on alert. The higher-ups were relentless in their tyranny, working Satoru to the bone. He’d been dispatched on three high-level missions last week spanning across the country, when all he wanted to do was sleep, eat mochi ice cream, and make hot love to his wife. On the surface he made it look easy, but on the inside he longed for a break.

That’s what he loved most about Hannah. She always knew. He didn’t have to lie and don the mask.

Her strokes grew faster.

For a brief moment, Satoru thought his soul tore in two. He was barely conscious of his surroundings. Planet Earth? Where’s that? All that remained was his wife’s melodic voice and the orgasm preparing to take over and exit his body. He felt the tension surmount in his groin, jizz funneling up his balls, waiting for its queue to shoot. His breathing quickened, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

Knowing he was close, Hannah sat up criss-cross on the bed and scooted herself in, wrapping his long legs around her waist to hold him steady, giving him perfect view of her breasts. Finding the position more comfortable, she continued stroking his cock in her lap like a clay potter, hands working and wringing him in. He couldn’t speak, or think straight. Soon his hips started to buck on their own accord.

“That's it, Satoru. Easy now.”

She didn’t have to do anything except keep her hands still. Nature would take care of the rest, the receptors in his brain telling his spine to “giddy up.”

His thrusts began to readily excelerate, going faster in conjunction with the volition of his climax, the back-and-forth friction causing Hannah’s hand to grow shockingly hot. She caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, the darkness of his cock. He grunted hard with each snap of his pelvis.

At once, his thrusts slowed, and then on the count of three, his hips jilted upwards for a grand finish.

He bellowed out her name as the orgasm tore through him, streams of thick jissom gushing over his stomach in quick bursts. Hannah continued pumping, squeezing out as much as she could, relishing the triumph of his release soiling her bare hands, keeping him going until he’d run on empty.

Considering how much they’d been making love, she was surprised he lasted as long as he did.

Hannah’s pumping lessened as his breathing gradually returned to normal, his senses coming to.

“Stay put,” she hushed, granting him a celebratory kiss. “I’ll go fetch you a towel.”

“Uh huh,” he groused, every muscle in his legs and groin feeling tingky and loose, brain lost in a fog. His tongue was like lead. He could barely form a sentence.

Brushing a stray lock of white hair from his face, Hannah left to go find him a clean towel.

Weakly, Satoru managed to glance down at the mess he had made on his thighs and stomach. He released a winded sigh as his head hit the pillow, then broke into a rich, hearty laugh. And to think this was now his new normal.

“Yare, yare.”

The couple decided to explore more of the city the next day. Satoru knew all the best spots in town, having frequented Hirosaki on countless missions. The city was small, a population of 180,000 or less, but held rich history regarding samurai and the Fujita family, making it notorious for curse incidents. Satoru couldn’t begin to recall how many strangers would come across a random cursed object; a sword, or an arrow head, stupidly get the idea to touch it, then wind up dead on the road somewhere for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Always sucked when the victims were children.

Anyway, no need to relive those memories. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...

Hannah wanted to visit another garden - cause of course she did - and peruse the local shops. Great.

But first, breakfast.

Satoru discovered Cafe Buruman three summers ago while on the hunt for some shaved ice. He didn’t find the ice (sadly), but did sample a delicious raspberry tartlet and a frappuccino. And it was located right next to their ryokan, which may have not been accidental.

The cafe had a traditional charm to it, evident by its cypress furnishings and a rare selection of Okura Pottery bowls shelved behind the bar counter. Stored inside glass cabinets were other fine china pieces, some of which were available for purchase. Classical music played elegantly in the background. Hannah was smitten the moment they entered the door.

They placed their orders; Hannah, a fruit parfait and peach tea; Satoru, a chocolate tartlet and white mocha latte, and picked a table over by the window.

“I received an invitation the other day,” Hannah said once they were seated and their food arrived.

Satoru picked up his spoon. “Oh? From who?”

“Lady Kamo Hatsumomo.”

The spoonful of tartlet, having just reached his mouth, nearly rolled off his tongue in disgust.

Hannah took it as a bad sign. “I’m guessing you don’t like her?”

“Like her?” he said, chewing his tartlet. “The woman’s a psycho. I know her as the eldest sister of Lord Kamo. She thinks the jujutsu world’s main purpose in life is to uphold its most antediluvian precepts.”

“Antediluvian.” Hannah brightened. ��There’s your word of the day.”

Satoru smirked. “I have my moments. The point is, she despises anyone who doesn’t conform to her narrow set of beliefs.”

“And me being a foreigner probably doesn’t help,” Hannah suspected.

Her husband frowned. “I doubt it.”

“Why would she invite me to her house then?”

Satoru too wondered this. On the one hand, it made perfect sense to invite Hannah as she was his wife and therefore carried great influence, but even so. Hatsumomo was no friend to non-sorcerers, especially when it came to foreigners. He remembered Ichiro’s banishment from the family for marrying Kumari.

But unable to find a satisfactory answer as to why, he reached across the table. “Remember, you don’t have to accept," and took Hannah’s hand. “It’s your call.”

Hannah sighed and stared down at their hands. “We’ll see."

That was good enough for Satoru. The Six Eyes wielder went back to sipping his latte then looked over, staring out through the glass window. His best friend stood on the sidewalk, waving candidly at him, same long jet-black hair, black shirt, black sweatpants...

Wait, what now?

Satoru squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, opening them back up to see an empty street.

Just his mind playing dirty tricks again.

“Everything alright?” Hannah’s eyes were slightly tainted with worry.

“I’m fine,” Satoru replied, offering her a curt smile, running his thumb over her knuckles.

It was all in his head. Nothing more.

Yup, he was perfectly fine.

Chapter Contents

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk #呪術廻戦 #jjk fanfic #gojo x oc #satoru x oc #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo #japan #gojo takes a wife #Hirosaki Castle

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