#kaa-san

[000yul]

Happy New Year, Doctor. Celebrating with this many people's a first for me, but turns out it's not half bad. Oh, that reminds me. I totally forgot I promised I'd write a letter to the old hag before I set out, so let me do that real quick.

[mishy-mashy]

Do you ever wonder if Midoriya has accidentally called Bakugo "Kaa-chan" instead of "Kacchan"?

[diesiraekaa]

◼️ La citation du lundi ◼️

[statusquoergo]

@heytheredeann basically tied me to a chair and forced me at knifepoint to read banana fish (that is false, she started posting gifs/screencaps/edits/etc. from the anime, the manga coincidentally appeared one day as a "top 5" on the home page of the site where i read manga, i fell for it like the dumbass that i am) and now that i've (finally) finished the series (hence the mass liking of posts, in case you were wondering, sorry about that), i'm reading fic (as is required), and it's great and all but...oh my god. jesus fucking christ. i can't believe i used to be this annoying.

dear people who write english fics of japanese series:

the story is set in japan. i know that. you've explained that. unless otherwise specified, the characters are speaking japanese (or english, as the case may be; bonus points if the pattern of speech makes it clear which is which for bilingual characters).

do not. do not. do not throw random (romanized) japanese words into your otherwise english narrative.

(especially if you spell them wrong. but also especially if you don't.)

[moechies]

mean yuuta-nii with a crybaby reader, forcing her to do anal!! :3 (in honour of him showing up in the last episode of jjk for this season tee hee ;33)

tw dark content n0ncon, inct, anal, mention of parents

“y-yuuta nii.. please.. don’t..”

nii chan had your tummy pressed against the soft of your own bed, your panties and shorts pulled halfway down your thighs. his thumbs maliciously pulled open the fat of your ass, running this frigid finger down your slit and back up.

“nii chan..! s-stop! m-m gonna tell on you if you d-do this..”

“you’re gonna tell on me? what if i told otou-san and kaa-san how much you like it when i play with your pussy, hm? how much you like it when i put my fingers in y-“

“nii chan! s-stop..!”

you cried out yet again, feeling the soft of his thumb press into your ass. the pressure was overwhelming, the stretch unfamiliar.

your hands reach behind to press the man away, grabbing his wrists as a weak attempt to get him to stop.

“imouto chan, stop it and stay still. i know you don’t want to, but you’re not in any position to say no, mkay?”

before you have a chance to argue back, you feel a wet slick begin to rim the tight of your asshole, replacing his thumb. yuuta nii is generous enough to swipe the slick from your sticky cunt to your ass, just so it doesn’t hurt as much! your sullen cries of ‘stop,’ and ‘no,’ he loved it so much, you were just too cute!

he guides his swollen tip further and further inside, the pulsing pain searing through the lower part of your body. it burns, every inch that he continues to press in, it burns so much, but his whines and pants of arousal show that he feels differently.

“it’s okay imouto. i’ll make sure it feels good for you too,”

he reaches his hand down below, rolling your sweet clit in between his fingers, but never bothering to pay any attention to your needy hole.

“see, it feels good if i play with you like this right?”

you cry and thrash in his hold, a harsh hand slapping onto his wrists to remove his hand from your body at least. it was so frustrating, the painful and unfilling feeling from behind.

“it’s okay if you don’t like it imouto, but you’re gonna have to get used to it.”

[yumeka-sxf]

Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 6

Part 6 – Supporting character musings – Eden kids

In the first three parts of this post series, I talked in detail about how each of the Forgers' specific ways of speaking in the Japanese version helps shape their character. Now I want to analyze the supporting SxF characters in terms of their speech and see what traits we can infer. I'll discuss the Eden kids first, and then the supporting adult characters like Yuri, Fiona, etc, in the next post.

I'm going to start with Damian since I feel he has the most complexity in terms of what can be analyzed from his speech. While there's nothing about his speech that really stands out to me, at least compared to the Forgers, there's still little telling nuances based on his choice of words and honorifics. He uses casual speech for fellow kids his age, and polite speech for (most) adults, which is normal…I say "most" adults though because, while he uses keigo (the standard polite form of Japanese speech) for Eden teachers and the adults in his family, he doesn't use it at all during his first encounter with Loid. He even calls Loid おっさん("ossan"), which is basically "mister" but for middle-aged or older men, instead of 兄さん("niisan"), which is the same, but for a younger man akin to Loid's age.

Later, as Loid's goody-goody act gets on his nerves, his speech becomes a bit vulgar. He adamantly shouts that he "won't hang out with that peasant girl," using the "crude" conjugation of "won't be friends with/hang out with", 相手にしねー! ("aitei ni shine!") instead of the casual 相手にしない ("aitei ni shinai"). He even says うるせー ("urusee") which means "shut up" and is even more rude than うるさい ("urusai"). I'm actually surprised he let himself talk like that in front of Donovan. I suppose it shows how passionate he is about his "aversion" to Anya.

Speaking of Anya, he's never addressed her by name in the Japanese version, opting instead to call her, at best, the casual form of "you," "omae" ("お前") and at worst, some rude name like "temee" ("手前"), the derogatory form of "you."

When it comes to his family, he addresses Donovan and Melinda as 父上 ("chichi-ue") and 母上("haha-ue") respectively. These are more formal terms for the standard polite ones typically used to address your father and mother, "o-tou-san" (お父さん) and "o-kaa-san" (お母さん). For Demetris though, he's more casual. Not only does he use plain speech, but he also calls Demetris 兄貴 ("aniki"), which is a term of endearment, like "Big Bro."

He uses casual speech with Jeeves as well, which makes sense since Jeeves is a butler and thus "lower" than anyone in the Desmond household.

To me, all of this implies that Damian is a fairly normal kid in terms of how he addresses those around him, with the exception being his extreme formality with his parents. Terms like "chichi-ue" and "haha-ue" are mostly used in uptight, flatulent families, and obviously families like the Desmonds match that description. But it also shows how this is forcing Damian to rarely get the affection and bonding he craves from his parents.

As a side note, I don't have much to say about Bill and George, since they're such minor characters and nothing about their speech stood out to me in the few chapters they appeared in. But I found it interesting that they both call Damian "Damian-kun," with "-kun" in this case being an honorific to show endearment for a male equal, similar to "-chan" for females. However, Damian doesn't use "-kun" with any of the other male students, which is another indication of his comparatively standoffish personality.

Ewen and Emile speak similarly to Damian, using casual speech for fellow kids and keigo for adults. The exception with them, however, is that they address Damian with keigo as well. Not only that, but they call him "Damian-sama," which is unusual among friends their age. The honorific "-sama" is more humbling than "-san" and is often translated as "Lord" or "Master." I wonder what Damian has done to make them think so highly of him.

Moving onto Becky, she uses feminine speech in most situations. This speech is defined by adding softening interjections at the end of sentences, like "ne" (ね), "no" (の), and especially "wa" (わ). She also uses a variety of honorifics for the other characters. She calls Anya "Anya-chan," with "-chan" being a term that shows affection between female friends. She uses the feminine "I/me" pronoun "atashi" as well.

Because of her infatuation with Loid, she calls him "Loid-sama," with "-sama," as I just discussed, being a very polite honorific used for someone you're subservient to, or at least someone you look up to immensely.   

She's actually never called Yor by her name – at first she calls Yor 奥さま ("oku-sama"), which is a polite way of addressing someone else's wife, typically translated as something like "honorable wife." But after she sees how strong Yor is and "officially" decides to be her mentee (in her mind anyway), she calls Yor 師匠 ("shishou") which means "master" or "teacher" in a trainee to trainer sense.

But despite her high social status as a Blackbell, Becky uses the most childish terms for her mother and father, "papa" (パパ) and "mama" (ママ) respectively.

It's not uncommon for very young kids to address their parents in such a way, but it is ironic that everything else about Becky makes her seem like she wants to be more "grown-up" than she actually is, but she's still just a kid deep down, at least when it comes to her relationship with her parents.

<- Return to Part 5

[yandere-toons]

Yandere: "is that your family?" S/O: "nope, nah-uh, nada. I've never seen those people in my life"

Years of hard data say you're lying, but they're not about to incriminate themselves by revealing so: Huey Duck, Hunter | Golden Guard, Aziraphale, Sheldon J Plankton, Doctor Nefarious, Tenth Doctor, Shang Tsung, Dr Flug, Perry the Platypus, Midoriya Izuku

Suspects the lie but rolls with it: Ian Malcolm, Louie Duck, Anthony J. Crowley, Nick Wilde, Nagito Komaeda, Captain Jack Sparrow, Lightning McQueen, Ratchet, Kaa, Bugs Bunny, Mike Wazowski, Johnny Loughran, Klaus Hargreeves, Sans Undertale, Arataka Reigen, Tyrion Lannister, Legoshi, Rouge the Bat, Wallace Wells, Kendall Roy, Connor Roy, Finnick Odair

Races over to introduce themselves: Toga Himiko, SpongeBob SquarePants, Dewey Duck, Judy Hopps, Kokichi Ouma, Beetlejuice, Celia Mae, Gaston, Mavis Dracula, Undyne, Beast Boy, Deadpool, Alvin Seville, Phil Dunphy

Believes you: Pinkie Pie, Bluey & Bingo, Jataro Kemuri, Chick Hicks, Caligosto Loboto, GIR, Daffy Duck, Bill & Ted, Olaf, Shigeo Kageyama, Starfire, Scott Pilgrim, Ken, Castiel

Laughs at your thin deceptions: Emperor Belos, Bill Cipher, Black Hat, Scar, Shere Khan, Tai Lung, Lord Shen, Pagan Min, Invader ZiM, Shao Kahn, Eleventh Doctor, Rainbow Dash, Shenzi, Randall Boggs, Duncan Pepperidge Anderson, Agent Smith, Doctor Eggman, Han Solo, Alastor, Izaya Orihara, Gideon Graves, Roman Roy, Shiv Roy, Gristol Malik

Alternative interpretation is equally funny — the yandere is pointing out random groups of people and slowly narrowing down their choices.

[lexsssu]

Again (Uchiha Sasuke)

TAGS: Sasuke/F!reader, yandere, obsession, dirty thoughts, breeding kink, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Kaa-chan told me to remind you to eat and to give you this! She said it’s your favorite.”

Gingerly taking the bento being offered to him, something flickered within Sasuke’s lone visible eye which disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. Even without opening it, he was already sure of its contents. 

You were the one who made it after all.

“Please give her my thanks when you get home. I’ll drop this off myself once I’ve cleaned it,” the Uchiha makes sure to use his left hand as he receives the lunch box, a small shiver running down his spine as a brief image of you happily preparing this meal for him appears in his mind’s eye.

“Will do, Oji-san! And thank you again for today’s training session. Please come visit us at home whenever you can. Kaa-san always looks forward to your visits. She always says you don’t visit enough,” Shinachiku’s soft laughter reminds Sasuke of how much he takes after you than Naruto.

From the shade of green in his eyes, to the way his smiles aren’t as blinding as Naruto’s and yet exudes the same strength and softness yours does. Shinachiku Uzumaki is his father’s son, but no one can ever deny that he is also his mother’s child.

He could’ve been your child.

All of them could have been yours.

If only you hadn’t been so weak.

If you simply had the power…then perhaps she’d have been yours.

Not Naruto’s…YOURS!!!

When both he and the young genin separate for the night, him to his lively home filled with the happiness and laughter of family, Sasuke on the other hand retreats to the lonely Uchiha compound. He is all too used to the dreary atmosphere of the place he once called home, his steps never faltering as he entered the main house’s kitchen and sat himself at the dining table.

Inside the 3-layer bento were several onigiri with various fillings, namely umeboshi, salmon, and bonito flakes. A tomato salad that definitely was one of your own homegrown ones (because he has never seen, smelled, and tasted any tomatoes more delicious than yours). The tomato soup was still warm and felt even warmer as he ate it as slowly as he could, savoring the myriad of flavors contained in such a seemingly simple dish. 

Though he wasn’t fond of sweets, the avenger couldn’t ignore the slice of strawberry shortcake you packed for him. The first bite of cake reminded him of the sweetness of the youth he spent with you despite his hyperfixation on killing his own brother at the time.

If he’d known the truth that early on then perhaps he wouldn’t have wasted all his time chasing after Itachi.

Naruto wouldn’t have had the chance to take you for himself if Sasuke understood that you were worth much more than his misguided revenge. 

Even though Naruto left for training with Jiraiya, the blonde was more than happy to regale him with tales of how the two of you would do your best to send each other letters despite how they constantly went from place to place. Somehow, you always found yourself to him, and he to you.

It made Sasuke sick.

Don’t even get him started on all the flies that buzzed around you while he and Naruto were gone.

Despite most of the original rookies having settled down, the Uchiha was very much aware of how these same men gravitate towards you before Naruto went and made his formal claim. 

That know-it-all Nara, the arrogant Hyuga, even Gaara of the Sand were almost always seen around you.

Hell, even that damned swordsman from Kiri who’s now currently its Mizukage was too close to you. Don’t even get him started on Haku who’d more or less become your guard dog ever since you saved both him and Zabuza all those years ago during that mission in Wave. 

As much as he despised their attentions on you, he knew deep inside of him that all of them saw the very same thing in you that drew them all in like moths to a flame. 

And he HATED it.

Hated that they all coveted you when none of them deserved to have you.

Sasuke’s last thought as he closed his eyes was that of you.

Always YOU.

The Sakura blooms you gifted him smelled so nice…It was a good thing he placed them on his bedside table, because he could close his eyes and pretend that it is the scent of your hair. 

He could pretend that it is his hands that run across the soft pink strands as you sleep.

He could pretend that he is the one who feasts upon your delicious cunt each night. His cock forcing your soft and pliant walls open again and again as your nails drag across his back, leaving angry red lines that serve as proof of how much he pleasured you. That it is his potent seed that fills your womb to the brim, globs of semen dripping from your pussy as he makes sure to pour loads and loads of his love within you.

Wouldn’t that be perfect?

Not only will he revive the Uchiha clan, but knowing that you carried his seed and nurtured them within you…he could burst from happiness just from the mere thought of it.

Sasuke falls into a deep sleep, soothed by the images of a reality that could have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Even though Sensei told us not to have breakfast, I still think the last thing we should do is train on an empty stomach. So I made us all some breakfast and even lunch!” 

Sasuke is once again presented with a bento filled with onigiri, but this time the hands holding onto the container were more slender as slim digits softly yet firmly gripped the lunch box. 

“I’m not sure which filling you prefer, but I have different fillings with me so you can choose which one you like best,” ever the thoughtful person you were, you selflessly offered the last Uchiha the food despite how antisocial he’d been towards you despite the time you’d spend together as classmates at the academy.

In his first life, Sasuke simply scoffed at your attempts of kindness towards him. Batting you off at every opportunity as he believed himself above such camaraderie when his only goal in life was to enact his revenge.

Not anymore.

Without saying anything, the raven-haired preteen grabbed the Okaka rice ball just before Naruto could take it.

“Hey, what’s the big idea, teme?! I was gonna get that one!”

“...Tch. Then you should’ve been quicker, dobe.”

“Why you little…!”

The sound of your tinkling laughter and Naruto’s disgruntled mumbling was music to his Sasuke’s ears.

He may have managed to get you the first time around, but not this time.

Uchiha Sasuke didn’t know who or what had flung him back into the past, but Indra knows he won’t ever make the same mistakes he did before.

[yuurei20]

Hello! Thank you for all your very informative/helpful posts! Since I was having a hard time finding these answers on my own, I was hoping you could help me. Regarding Najma, what does she refer to Jamil as when she addresses him? When I look at subbed videos of Jamil's hometown event, it seems like she just says his name, but I think I once read a comment where someone mentioned that at one point in the event she calls him "Onii-chan" or something along those lines, but maybe I misread that? I was just curious about that, and I was also wondering how both Jamil and Najma refer to their parents, like do they use "Otou-san" and "Okaa-san" or something else? Thanks again!

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question! 🐍

Najma refers to Jamil consistently throughout the event by his first name with no honorific, with one exception: right before she leaves the group they have a conversation where she says that she is worried about him, referring to him as, "Onii-chan" ^^

There could be many reasons for this, such as she used to call him "onii-chan" when she was younger and grew out of it, or maybe he doesn't like being being referred to by his first name so she started doing so to annoy him and it stuck (Jamil is big on hierarchy)--

--or because "onii-chan" is how she refers to him when they are at home but she prefers not to do so in public, etc.!

(This is all conjecture! None of the above reasons are canon and are just personal thoughts~)

It is generally a good idea to not apply grammar rules from media directly to reality, but if you are also interested in real-life examples for language study I found a thread by a lady asking about why her grandchildren do not use honorifics with one another ^^

And the general consensus by the commenters is: family dynamics just vary by family!

Much like how people in different families often have different ways of referring to their grandparents, familial terms of address are moreso based on personal preferences than societal expectations ♪

Concerning their parents, you are very right!

Both Jamil and Najma call their father "tou-san," without the polite "o" in the beginning, three times out of the four times they refer to him!

Their mother is referred to only once, by Najma, as "o-kaa-san" ^^

(Jamil uses "chichi" and "haha" for "dad" and "mom" when speaking with Silver.)

And Najma does refer to someone as "o-nii-san" at one point, but it was not Jamil--it was Malleus! ^^

But this is not because she literally decided to see Malleus as an older brother! (She also refers to male vendors in the marketplace as "ojisan")

It is not uncommon to refer to people with whom you are unfamiliar as "o-nii-san" or "o-nee-san" ^^ It is more common in casual settings like when shopping, events like festivals, etc., where many people who are not well acquainted come together!

[verysium]

『02』 出発: departure

ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi

summary: a star's life is its counteraction against death, an endless deadlock against the brute force of gravity. in the constant struggle between space and time, rin cannot tell if he is being held up or held down. perhaps he has already dictated the terms of his own demise. cw: epistolary montage, mentions of blood in film, rin violently crying and throwing up, highly implied hallucinations, swearing, suicidal ideation, disillusionment and lots of hard angst. word count: 4.9k

previous || series masterlist || next

Two weeks after Sae took off from Haneda Airport, his words still lingered inside Rin's mind. His brother had left with a fiery flick of a grin—a gaping, white-hot maw right where his mouth should have been. It blazed then sputtered cold in his gums by the time he turned back around, but Rin still knew what he saw. The smoke never lied.

A triple tap of tongue against hard palate, the message moving fast as light. Something had flickered between Sae’s teeth. Something about split knuckles and brotherly love. Something about calling him back.

But Rin couldn’t hear over the boarding announcements, the roar of engines propelling out of the runway, the heat waves of people out in front. At half past noon, his brother had already departed from Tokyo, ten thousand miles westbound in a floating aluminum dream, reeling contrails through the sky. 

And Rin still stood on Earth, waiting. Like some dumb thing left behind.

It wasn’t until his mother laid a gentle hand on his shoulder that he finally tumbled back to reality, an empty gate at his feet, no arrival or departure calling. The afternoon sunlight had grown dim, splintering against the glass windows and whirring the blood through his ears. His chest felt strangely suspended.

It was in the backseat where it all began. Three floors down in the parking garage. Fumbling through his pockets, his coat had snagged between the door and car frame, ten digits on a crumpled paper sent fluttering to the ground. Looking back on it now, he should’ve thrown that damn thing away. But he was stupid then, drunk on a heat stroke and the beginnings of terminal grief. Right on the exit of the Shuto Expressway, he made his parents turn the car back around and drive ten miles down to the nearest World Mobile, a wretched inhale of hope stuck squirming in his chest. 

It took him several weeks before he finally decided to punch in those numbers, and then another several weeks to call after that. His body shuddered, sweat-faced and suffocating, as he trailed sticky fingers down the waiting screen. The phone rang once then twice. Then rang on forever.

Nobody ever bothered to pick up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

2013 年 6月 17日 Nii-chan, 

It still feels like you never left. And I say this with a miserable lack of sincerity because you did in fact leave just two weeks ago. Kaa-san still makes your bed. Square corners and all. Your duvet goes in the pile with the rest of my laundry. 

Just the other day, I think I saw your shadow. I was sunbathing on the roof when I felt something brush against my back. Does Spain have big shadows too? I hope so. A country with so much sun must leave those poor shades short and stunted. Maybe they’re just a little shy. Be nice to them, will you Nii-chan? Not everyone can shine as bright as you do.

I hope you’ll make friends soon. Write to me often. I want to know everything.

2013 年 7月 7日 Nii-chan,

How are you? I didn’t receive anything in my inbox, and I checked with Kaa-san twice. She said you didn’t text me, but there is no way such a thing could have happened. Perhaps old age has finally gotten to her, or maybe something’s just wrong with this phone. Either way, I should’ve asked her to buy me a newer model.

On second thought, if you don’t text me, I will be very upset. But it will be a childish sort of anger. You wouldn’t be very proud. You will be pleased to know, however, that I have grown a total of ten centimeters this summer, and my bones are looking very strong and wide. My shots have improved too, and I scored three goals today.

Otou-san took us out to dinner for Tanabata this weekend. He told me it is about time I became a man. I smiled and said I didn’t want to disappoint. But then he said ten and three quarters is no longer a youthful sort of age, and I suddenly felt a little mad about it. I don’t want to grow up without you. 

The festival was crowded as usual. I ate every selection of wagashi then chased it down with some of the sake Otou-san lent me from his cup. Pretty sure that was illegal, so I threw it all up on the way home. But then we all went and saw the tanzaku, so I guess something went right. I wrote down a wish, but I won’t tell you. Otherwise it won’t come true. I hung it up on the highest branch though, so that someday it might reach you. 

Tell me what you think. Text back soon.

2013 年 8月 31日 Nii-chan, 

I did not receive your reply from last time. I think this phone must still be broken. Perhaps you should check on your end. Even if it’s just a greeting, I will be content. Anything from you is fine, really.

I visited the beach again. It was peaceful until the wind blew hair in my face, and I went blind for almost fifteen minutes. I tried cutting it, but Kaa-san got mad at me. After your disaster five years ago, she said she’d never let her sons hold a pair of scissors ever again. Don’t tell her, but I laughed. Inside, you know?

Sometimes I still see the waves in my sleep. The ones at Koshigoe Beach. They cradle me, and suddenly it feels like my head is floating even though my body isn’t. You’d probably think I’m crazy. But lately dreams are the only way I can reach you. 

I do watch the news though. And I train hard. Very hard. I can pass like you now, though not nearly as good as your highlights on TV. Coach says I still need to learn. You always said the same thing. But I am nearly as tall as Otou-san now and twice as strong. That must count for something, right? I hope the guys overseas will like this new me. When I finally come over there, that is.

Make sure you aren’t training too hard. I don’t want you to overstrain yourself. And if you don’t like it there, promise me you won’t force yourself to stay. You’ll pack your bags and come home early. 

Promise me. Please. 

That you’ll come home to me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

For the second time in his life, Rin finds himself on his knees, heaving up everything that has ever made him whole. The bathroom mourns with every dry retch of his throat, and suddenly he’s laughing into the porcelain, clutching at the sides in a mad form of desperation. His ribs shudder—tough in their hurt—yet nothing of substance ever lies between them. He’d smiled out his guts a long time ago. 

Is empty space still a space or just the photonegative of presence? 

Sometimes Rin feels like his body can never truly filled, but it can never be completely emptied either. No matter how much he regurgitates, there will always be more to come. The space inside him widens until it hangs on a threadlike line of limbo: so much to give yet so much to keep. It tugs at him—a crude form of baptism—pulling him up for air and then crashing his head beneath the waves again. 

Another harsh hurl reverberates across the bathroom tiles, this time accompanied by the loud smack of spit. He’s emptied out so much his bowels might just prolapse at any second, the boy inside him turned into some sort of liquid slop, sloshing back and forth in his ribcage. It’s all over the front of his shirt now, the stomach contents soaked for hours in bodily brine, the grief his body tries to hold. No amount of bleach is going to erase the stench.

Some days Rin just wants someone to cradle him like a child does a bird, gentle and afraid to hurt. He had a dream about this once, many moons ago. After wringing himself out to dry, he had gone to work, looping the washing line around his feet until it resembled some sort of upside down noose. Once the wind picked up, he let go of the string like a pendulum, watching his body sway in third person: up and down and up and down. In this reality, he was a creature of feathers and clothespins, his body molting in the breeze. So long as he swung back and forth in this state of suspension, he would remain in the middle, not tethered down enough to live but not free enough to die either. 

He’d simply exist. 

Some nights Rin still can’t sleep. His eyes lay limp in their sockets, two dead weights sinking into bone. He tried to pry them out with his fingers, but they only pressed deeper into his face, rigid and wax-cool to the touch. No matter what he does, Rin knows he will be too late. He can never reverse this decay—the post-mortem withering of his own heart. 

Just this afternoon, he died once again, his body slumped with the hollow weight of disappointment, his spirit sinking like a fault line into earth. He had been drying his hair in the locker room after practice, the friction of the towel’s loops causing small pinpricks of static to echo along his nape. The static had carried over hushed whispers, trailing along his scalp down to his ears. God, he hadn’t meant to overhear.

“Damn it, we’re really done for this season, huh? I’m telling you it’s the striker. We could’ve won this match if it weren’t for him.”

“I mean, if Itoshi were here, he would’ve destroyed their whole team by himself.”

“You mean the older one?”

“Of course I do. Who else did you think I was referring to? The younger one’s just been blessed up until now.”

“Without his brother, he’s just an ordinary guy.”

“Oi, Haruto, shut up! What if he hears?”

“Hear what? It’s not like it isn’t the truth!”

Rin still remembers how his surname burned on their lips, the tip of the tongue caught raw between teeth, the vowels seared into flesh. Itoshi was a burden coming apart at the seams, a title for something he could never possess. They were right and it left him smarting, reeling. He hadn’t laughed a day since Sae’s departure, but in that moment he wanted to shove his whole fist up his mouth and choke for the first time in five resentful months. The laugh had been a silent one, with tears on his waterline and a smile bruised onto his face. 

Ha.....ha.....hah.....

There comes a point in every boy’s life when he simply exists. Still young but no longer impressionable. Salt in the eyes. Salt in the mouth. Take it like a man. When he hawks back the knife, it must come out breathing and clean. Living but not dead. 

His teammates had every right to blame him. 

He can’t score goals like he used to. Can’t run and bleed. Can’t love like before. There’s nothing but shame waiting for him when the realization finally breaches the bathroom air and his teammates scramble off the benches, cleats stained with guilt. They saw his reflection in the mirror, weeping right above the communal sinks.

“R-rin! W-we didn’t know you were here.”

“Y-yeah! You didn’t hear much, did you?”

Rin had never hated his name more in that moment. They uttered it like a euphemism, hand over his stupid bullet-riddled heart, the blood too runny to salvage. It only hurt him more. So he did what he knew best. He clenched his fist, the nails fisted into the meat of his palm, eyes caught on a hardened edge. It didn’t matter if Haruto was his senior. He’d beat him within an inch of his life.

“So you call me Rin now? Wasn’t I just younger Itoshi to you earlier?”

“I didn’t....We didn’t mean...”

“Then what did you mean?”

Only the scurry of shoes answered—two scuff marks against the dirty floor, Haruto’s yelp in the distance. Rin was left all alone again, his thin shadow blown wide across the whitewashed walls of the locker room. 

“Damn coward,” he wanted to yell after him. “Run! Run and tell them how it’s not your fault!” 

But he was just talking to himself.

Is empty space still a space or just a pseudonym for absence?

He hadn't been thinking at the time. Within the liminal space of the abandoned shower stalls, he lent himself a moment of weakness. He let himself cry. The shower head was cold and dirtied, and he stood there for forty-five minutes, waiting to be filled with a warmth that never came. In the end, he let his tears mix with the brackish water, staring at the evidence of his failure before it swirled down the drain. 

He realized he must have been a mistake. There was no other explanation. The real Rin Itoshi was swapped at birth and replaced with someone else. Inside the four-walled confines of the shower stall, his imposter reared its head through the mist, long baby hair drowned down to the ears. He didn’t belong. Not in this body bathed in condensation. Not in this namesake crowned in tempered glass. But by the time the water trickled down to his nose, Rin was already knee-deep in self-doubt, wading his way into misery. What more did they want from him? No one could ever replace Sae Itoshi. Not even his younger brother. 

Not even him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Six hours post-death in the locker rooms, Rin went home and passed out with his head on the toilet seat, two slick fingers shoved up his throat and his luminous guts buried somewhere down the pipe drain. Six hours later, his lids peel back scarlet, gelatinous with haze—a ringing in his ears. Some fucker is calling him again. 

He doesn’t answer. Twice. But the telemarketer is either underpaid or rudely insistent, so Rin finally picks up just to curse him out on the line. He doesn’t need any scripted intimacy. Doesn’t need other people counting his own losses. He just needs to be left alone.

At midnight, he staggers out of the bathroom, fingers absentmindedly flicking off the lightswitch before collapsing into bed. The sheets aren’t even his own. He doesn’t notice until he sniffs the pillow and stiffens. It smells god-awful. Like tiger balm and soothing menthol. Like somebody he used to know. And much to his chagrin, the images come stumbling back: knee-deep in the salted sea, shirasu swimming around his toes. What color were his eyes again? Blue ice between teeth. Sour like a bad star. Oh, what can he remember? Disappointment peeled into spirals. Happiness running down the back of his hand. The blood of an orange, sweet and dripping. He’s forever staring at someone’s back. Always a few steps behind.

Fuck you, Sae.

There’s haunting laughter coming out from the window panes, and he can hear the waves crash on shore in the distance. Two children run across sand. Muted footsteps. One soft thump then another. The vision is so close he can practically taste it. Salt in the wind, in the eyes, in his mouth. The seagulls pluck at his eyes, but he takes it like a man, breathing and clean. Living but not dead.

One of the children stands with his arms behind his back, face hidden by the shadows of the horizon. The ocean spray nips at his burgundy fringe, the hunger of a whole world engulfed in his gaze. In the distance, a younger boy shouts his name, dark hair framed by a cowlick, turquoise eyes smoothed over by water. He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him, his arms filled with bone-white shells.

“Nii-chan, wait for me!”

Sae’s face blurs before he can turn around, and Rin is left staring at the wooden slats above his childhood bed, resenting something he can no longer remember. Why did people have to go and change? Three years later and his brother had gone straight from stealing seashells to swindling stars clean out of the sky. Three years and he still had nothing to show for himself.

He imagines the look on Sae’s face when he tells him this. Conversations over Sunday dinner. The family gathered round the kotatsu, piss-yellow light slicing every dish into halves. He spoons pickled radish and chokes Sae’s teacup till it breaks. Would it be disappointment he sees on his face? His brother’s features crumpled mid-smile, blue-green eyes wounded into a porcelain state. Why? Why haven’t you done anything with your life while I was gone? 

Or perhaps it was anger. Smoke on the lips, bruised fists, and the heat of his mother’s blazing scream. Her son bares teeth and scrapes every syllable of their surname clean. Wrestles her other son’s shoulders down to the ground and shakes until the boy—the real Rin—gurgles and sloshes up inside. Do something, Rin. Do something! Or else you’ll never make it this lifetime.

Both, he could live with. But not this. The silence that burrows into his mind while he sleeps. The constant calling and the phone that just rings and rings and rings. It’s a circle, some sick sort of cycle. Every night he dreams of war—of sights and slights and stars. Things that end then don’t end then never end. He dreams until he wakes up screaming, on his hands and knees begging. Say something, will you? Anything. Fuck, why won’t you just say something?

Three years later and his brother still can't love him in a way he understands. 

But what did he expect? Sae was like that: pale and blistering, beautiful even when burning. Last dream cycle, his brother fell down three stories and erupted into flames, limbs compacted into fine dust. Should’ve screamed but didn’t. By the time Rin got down to him, Sae was already on his feet, sputtering soot from his lungs then flaring back up like nothing had ever happened. As if his hurt was merely bursts of light gathering and bunching, violence in free fall. 

And he was beautiful, Rin thinks. A boy of the blaze, man in the making, hair aorta-red, staring right back at him. By the time Sae opened his mouth, Rin’s arms were already open, ready to embrace the glittering shards. He crumpled before him as a building does a god, set alight on his brother’s palm. Strike me. He begged, blood around his mouth. Strike me anywhere and set me free. 

But that’s not what happens when you die. Not when his brother said it best.

I think I’d die and become a star. 

So he holds onto this life. Bunches it between fingers and twines it around his fist until he knows the person he’s dying for. Until he’s blacked out and dreaming in that damnable backseat again. Experiencing everything in the third person—the news, the screen, the slow-motion reels of an astral body wound up in constant replay. He can only watch as his brother slowly becomes a stranger in his own life again, and it guts him every time.

Sae Itoshi Dominates at Junior Championships, Secures Victory with Hat-Trick. Future Star? Sae Itoshi’s Sensational Performance Stuns Fans and Scouts Alike.

Who the hell is Sae Itoshi? Man, celebrity, celestial body? Not even his brother knows. But what Rin has learned over these past few years is that all stars are really just dead people, housed in a mausoleum of glittery beginnings and explosive endings. It’s binary—circling, really. A blinking eye in the sky, ticking time bomb, crying corpse, then everything wailing before its implosion. Sae could never comprehend this. The smoke-sputtering reality beyond tangible substance. This form of dying. 

But dying isn’t even the worst part of it all. It’s people like him who suffer. Unlucky stars are cursed with another, forced to revolve around each other. If one collapses, the companion gets ejected out the deep end of space and time—stumbling, groping, searching. 

Three years later and he’s still searching. 

Hey Google: Can stars still be seen from Madrid? 

The results for light pollution pop up. In a city of light, even light cannot be seen. How ironic, he thinks, that Sae is now a shining thing, flaring tendrils a million light years away. Post-nebula and he still loses himself in people who look exactly like him.

But that past has already come and gone, leaving nothing but the future behind. In the next dream cycle, Rin too will die, sputtering and choking, like a firework lit from within—violence in free fall. And when the time comes, he will leap off the fire escape, the city blocks spinning and spinning, every second a little death. The faster he falls, the more alive he’ll feel. He’ll drop all the way down until the only way he can go is up. And then he’ll ascend, floating past the skyscrapers, the streets, the sprawling metropolis. His toes curled, caught on the hook of night, the burnt flesh peeling back on bone. Floating until he disappears, his body nothing but white light.

Someday his brother will drown himself in his own artificial brightness. And Rin will follow, screaming, rearing, and set ablaze.

If you die Nii-chan, I think I’ll die along with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

There are rare moments when seasons die a sunless death, quiet and wilting into the earth. Rin’s final birthday without Sae falls on one such month—a red September during which nature bleeds, the autumn leaves rusting around Engakuji Temple. He’s taken up long walks during that time, pacing for hours around the park nearby. Something about taking his mind off things. Something about counting his own losses.

By late afternoon, his hands are shoved fist-deep into his coat pockets, on track to finish his ninth lap around the perimeter. The daylight has long pooled down his back, tiny dollops of brightness slow-dripping and honeyed, settling into the hollow divots of his spine. The mise-en-scène frames him in a languorous ochre—the kind of lighting reserved solely for an aged romance. And the wind plays his lover, its post-meridian breath tender as it brushes against his cheek. It’s all a range of motions from there. He takes another step, adjusts a stray earbud, then tugs his scarf all the way up to his nose. Ten laps now, and he still walks. The only time he ever stops is when he stalls mid-way to check his phone. 

Zero messages received. Message not delivered.

His thumb hovers briefly over the send button. The cursor at the end blinks with an almost human hesitancy before it opens its mouth, swallowing everything back up. The screen clears itself again, reduced to nothing but absence: a small square of light where silence reigns. Rin sighs before trudging home, a thousand words lodged into the back of his throat.

Nii-chan, I miss you. 

The kitchen is empty by the time he slides open the shoji, removing his shoes with practiced ease before padding across the soft tatami. His mother’s gone on an errand for groceries, her hastily scrawled note tucked under his door with a bowl of persimmons. The house is empty, the joss sticks still smoking in the living room, tips warm and powder-soft. He grows heady on their incense, locking himself away in his bedroom and drawing the curtains. His old Fujitsu laptop whirrs to life, propped up against two pillows and an oversized owl plush. This time he puts on a splatter film, splayed on his stomach as he reels through the opening credits.

He can watch without the subtitles now, even converse with tourists at the station in Enoden. He recalls his teammates’ faces last Saturday—breaths held tender, jaws slackened with faux horror—when he gave out directions in perfect English. Sae would’ve been proud, if only he knew how much it meant. But lately, there hasn’t been a single interruption to Rin’s nights alone, despite how desperately he longs for one. The most his English is good for nowadays is translating the kooky foreign films he puts on rotation, ninety minutes of runtime for thirty-one evenings.

He must have gone through a dozen franchises by now: Halloween specials, 90’s vintage, slashers, the paranormal. The American flicks still remain his favorite, mostly because of the chainsaws. Something about the suspense of disembodiment scratches an itch inside his brain. Like the adrenaline before a final goal, moments before he implodes—naked body slathered in pools of primary color.

In the darkness, the films weave together: a tidal wave of light that washes down his bedroom walls. The victim shrieks before she is bathed in an eerie swathe of red, pierced at the helm of a bloodshot lens. Something about her death is both alien and terrifying, and Rin feels himself come alive again. 

At climax, the light from his laptop is nothing short of searing, carving-knife intensity digging slowly into thin, rousing bodies. He can only watch as the killer sharpens his blade, each stroke a day-bright epiphany, cutting little wounds into the night. His figure is lit up from behind, illuminated in such a way that Rin can see his organs and count every one of his ribs. The scene peels back like water, reflecting montage after montage on the glass display case next to his closet. The trophies electrify themselves in the shadows, each silhouette splayed neatly on the shelf and serrated round the rim. The metal handles distort the characters’ faces in two-frame slashes, decapitating nose from ear, eye from mouth. Another scream rips through the background as Rin digs graves into his palm. This time the murderer chases a mother down the stairs, gleeful when her child fails to keep up. 

He’s seen this scene play out before—three years and eleven months ago, when he first got himself killed. It’s the final match against Tokyo Metropolitan Youth, and he’s running on fumes, ten minutes into additional time. There’s only a few more meters to the goal area, the footsteps fast approaching from his left. He has to make an escape. The opponent closes in behind him, knife in hand, and all he can do is run, body barreling straight toward the camera. 

The impact hits him right before the shot, his leg flaring out in some desperate attempt at a goal. The ball soars as he stumbles forward—violence in free fall, the boy inside him lit from within. In the final moments before he combusts, time stretches itself thin over his bones, smoking and exorcized from the fire. The shadow of his killer looms behind him, arm raised with the promise of metal and memory, the blade gleaming in sparse light. 

Got you.

The child on screen turns around, facial features contorted in dramatic horror. Rin can hear her scream before the lips even part. He can already predict this ending. He can predict the next one after this too. Plight of the final girl: last to die but forever immortalized in her own grief and helplessness.

In six months, he will be named the most valuable player for Kamakura United Youth. In another six, he will be hollowed from the inside out, cursed to feel only the loss inside every win. This motion picture has rewound itself one too many times, the credits rolling and taking him along with them. End scene and he’s standing there in a pool of his own triumph—the grass strewn with painted carcasses—a thousand boys dead at his feet. His knees make hard contact with the earth, nothing but penitence in his eyes. This is all he knows: love and its smoking aftermath, the weight of it iron-hot on his tongue. Victory has never tasted so bitter. 

But it always ends the same. For the final girl, the film star, everyone crucified by the crowd. All good auteurs come from a long line of men who have already run out of time, color pooling past their waists, crashing in over their heads. They don’t want to die, so they preserve their souls into billboards, spool strands of silence into substance. They only shoot what is in their blood: the sensational guts, glory, and gore. Because what better way to keep your memory alive than burn it onto the emulsion side of thirty-five millimeter filmstrip?

The red lights have begun to feel suffocating—the last of his breath now a belt around his neck—as the cameras pan down to a mutilated body. Rin secretly envies the child’s soaked shirtsleeves, the ground beneath her perfused in violent color. If only he could be filled with something that beautiful. But instead he was given the body of a pale child filled with longing, constantly waiting for a change and constantly wishing for something to flow out of him. 

Eventually the clock strikes twelve and Rin closes his laptop, the backs of his eyelids whited out, brain overstimulated from the psychedelic screams. His brother’s portrait blurs in his peripheral vision, overexposed from the red glow, staring up at him from the cluttered nightstand. And in the moment, he briefly wonders if Sae left Japan in search of a new image. Perhaps Spain was just ninety minutes of solid technicolor screen where people could scream without horror, where the protagonist could freely bleed. And in the end, there was no death. The audience remains seated in theaters, their memories replaying over and over, bodies forever housed in cinema.

At the director’s cut, Rin’s consciousness falls under, hand still clutching the frame. End scene and Sae’s blown-out face smiles just a little into the darkness.

© verysium 2024 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

[diesiraekaa]

◼️ La citation du lundi ◼️

[sailorstar9]

Stealing F/N's Boyfriend Was The Last Straw

F/N had been troubled by her relationship with her younger sister, Akemi, since childhood.

Akemi, who was weak since childhood, took advantage of their mother's concern and wanted everything that was F/N's.

“Kaa-san, I want nee-san's Licca doll.” Akemi whined.

“Alright.” F/N's mother relented. “Sorry, F/N, can you lent it to Akemi for a bit?”

It was common for F/N's favourite toys to be taken away. There were other instances, too,

“I want the dress nee-san is wearing.” Akemi pouted, trying to snatch F/N's floral dress away. “I want it!”

“But I just brought you a new dress the other day.” their mother reminded.

“No!” Akemi threw a tantrum. “I want nee-san's dress! It's much cuter on me!”

“Oh dear.” their mother sighed. “Maybe Akemi's clothes are a bit too small for her.”

“Then give me Akemi's dress.” F/N demanded. “After all, she doesn't want it, right?”

Akemi wanted everything F/N had, like clothes and books, and F/N was often troubled by it.

In the end, even in high school, she wanted F/N's boyfriend and took him from her.

“Sorry, F/N.” their mother tried to console their elder daughter. “Once Akemi wants something of yours, there's no stopping her.”

“We tried to stop her, but she just can't seem to stop wanting your things, F/N.” even their father was helpless.

“This is too much.” F/N told her parents firmly. “I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore.”

Akemi's selfishness got worse as she grew older and their parents struggled with it, too. So, as soon as F/N was of age, she moved out to distance herself from Akemi.

A few years later, F/N was on her off-day from her residency training when she received a text message from Akemi.

Nee-san, there's something I want to talk about. the message read. Can you make some time tomorrow night?

I have a really bad feeling about this. F/N pondered.

The next day, F/N went to the bar Akemi had chosen.

“Akemi, it's been a while.” F/N greeted her estranged sibling. “You said you had something important to talk about.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.” Akemi grinned. “There's someone I want to introduce. They should be here soon.”

“Akemi.” a familiar voice sounded. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Let me introduce you to my fiance, Masaru.” Akemi bragged.

Akemi's fiance froze in surprise and it was understandable.

“Why is F/N here?” Masaru stammered in shock.

The man Akemi introduced as her fiance was actually F/N boyfriend whom F/N had been dating since university. Knowing Akemi, F/N had already suspected it might be something outrageous and it turned out her suspicious were right. For now, F/N decided to play along.

“So Akemi is getting married before me.” F/N chuckled. “Congratulations.”

“What's wrong, nee-san?” Akemi taunted. “You don't look so good.”

“It's nothing.” F/N assured. “I was just surprised because he's so handsome.”

“I wanted you to meet Masaru today.” Akemi giggled.

After the awkward meal, F/N invited Akemi to her place since the younger sister wanted to talk alone.

“Nee-san, I bet you were surprised to find out my fiance is Masaru, right?” Akemi went straight to mocking.

At such a blatant question, F/N responded with a question of her own, “Why do you ask that?”

“Don't be stubborn.” Akemi taunted. “I approached him knowing he was your boyfriend.”

“I knew it.” F/N rolled her eyes. “So, you knew he was my boyfriend and still took him from me. I distanced myself and you still repeated the same thing. Unbelievable.”

“Masaru and I were in the same club in college.” Akemi bragged. “I approached him knowing he was your boyfriend. I confessed to him when we graduated, but you were too busy applying for medical school to notice.”

“You never change.” F/N sighed in resignation. “Taking my boyfriend is going too far.”

“Why?” Akemi smirked. “You've always given me what I wanted. You'll give him to me this time, too, right?”

Akemi always lacked any sense of ethics; their parents and F/N had always been troubled by her. F/N had no plans to fight over this.

“Fine.” F/N shrugged.

“What?” Akemi's smirk widened. “You're giving in so easily? You usually look so troubled.”

“This time, it's not something we can decide on our own.” F/N stated. “Masaru's feelings are involved, too. So it doesn't matter if I along hold a grudge.”

“Really?” Akemi teased. “You must be really upset inside, aren't you? If you're upset, just say so.”

“If that's what you want to think, go ahead.” F/N was unfazed. “By the way, you said you confessed when you were in college, right?” she recalled. “That was almost three years ago. I was dating Masaru until recently. To be honest, I thought we were still dating. Doesn't that mean Masaru was two-timing us? “

“I don't mind that.” Akemi bragged. “After all, he chose me in the end.”

In other words, F/N realized, as long as she can take him from me, it didn't matter to Akemi what kind of man he was. “I see.” F/N conceded. “Take good care of him then.”

“Of course I will.” Akemi bragged. “We're getting married, after all. Upset? You're upset, aren't you? Sorry, nee-san.”

Akemi wanted to belittle F/N, so she flaunted her happiness and left.

Later, Masaru sent F/N a goodbye message and their relationship ended abruptly.

F/N had no idea Masaru was two-timing; maybe she herself had lost interest, too. F/N thought it was about time to break up anyway and it worked out.

So, F/N ended up giving her boyfriend to her sister and she heard that Masaru filed the marriage registration a few days later.

After that, F/N did not contact the two of them as she concentrated on finishing her residency. But Akemi frequently sent messages about travelling with Masaru and going out to eat. Eventually, she even sent voice messages about their happiness. Finding the continuous messages annoying, F/N muted and ignored Akemi.

A few months later, after completing her residency...

“An package from England?” F/N blinked, retrieving a thick envelope from the postman.

To Miss F/N L/N, Your application for the assistant sports therapist of Manshine City has been accepted. Attached in the envelope are....

About a year later...

Akemi, who had been bragging about her new life with Masaru, called F/N frantically for help.

F/N, now working for Manshine City, had a very good idea what it was about and decided to have a FaceTime meeting.

“Wasn't your married life so fulfilling that you bragged about it to me every day?” F/N was not amused.

“Masaru turned out to be an insane, possessive man.” Akemi wailed. “Before we got married, I thought his possessiveness was alluring, but right after we got married, he secretly installed a location tracking app on my phone.”

“Masaru would do something like that.” F/N admitted. “Installing a location tracking app sounds like what Masaru would do, but that's not too bad, right?”

“That's not all.” Akemi whined. “He makes me report my whereabouts every hour. If I can't contact him during meetings, I get a barrage of missed calls.”

“He did have those tendencies when we were still together.” F/N recalled. “Seems like it worsened after getting married.”

“That's not all.” Akemi sobbed. “After we got married, he insisted he'd managed the finances, saying he was the man of the house, so I left it to him. I had saved up several million yen when I was single, but most of it is gone now. He secretly withdrew the money.”

“And Masaru admitted to using the money?” F/N quirked a small grin.

“He said he borrowed from me because he couldn't afford his luxury watches.” Akemi cried. “He also brought brand clothes for his parents and took them out to eat regularly. Your reaction...” she gaped, noticing F/N's nonchalant look. “You knew about Masaru's true nature, didn't you? Why didn't you warn me?”

“I thought you loved those aspects of Masaru and that's why you decided to marry him.” F/N shrugged, sipping her peppermint tea. “Because you knew he was dating me, but you decided to pursue him anyway, because you loved him, right? Or what? Did you think it was okay to marry someone because you could take him away from me without knowing who he really was? I was thinking of breaking up with him, and then you took him away. But you look so happy, Akemi. So, I gladly gave you my blessings.”

“No way.” Akemi blistered. “You must be upset because I took your boyfriend from you.”

“That's always your true intention, isn't it?” F/N fired back. “You wanted to see me sad and suffering, didn't you?”

“I'm your only sister.” Akemi pleaded. “You'll help me, right? You can't just ignore your precious sister being troubled by your ex, right?”

“You're married now, so money issues are a martial problem.” F/N reminded. “Masaru is your husband now, so it's not something I can interfere with. This is your own doing. It's not something I can help with.” with that, she ended the FaceTime call.

The next morning...

“You look exhausted.” Chigiri remarked worriedly, as he sat down opposite F/N outside an outdoor cafe near Manshine City.

“Got off a Facetime call with my sister last night.” F/N replied, slicing her egg sandwich.

“The one who snatched your former boyfriend?” Chigiri blinked, placing an order for buttered crumpets and coffee.

“Turns out, she finally found about Masaru's possessive tendencies.” F/N shrugged. “Well, it isn't my problem anymore.”

[nic-42]

Married is not the same as just lovers!

I wanted some interaction between Chikage and Shinichi with a touch of humiliation from Toichi and Kaito, it will be long so I'll make a cut

"The day you sleep peacefully and wake up at 2 in the morning and go downstairs and find your magician husband making a house of cards on the kitchen table while the poor guy tries to open a package of gummy bears, you will know how is to be happily married."

chikage said to shinichi as he cut the potatoes for dinner. shinichi was, to say the least, confused. There were only 3 months left until his wedding with Kuroba Kaito and he was helping his mother-in-law prepare dinner for his future husband and father-in-law when the topic of conversation suddenly changed to… this strange comment.

"What? How am I supposed to interpret that?"

Shinichi was trying to figure out, why did this family always speak in code? Not even his parents were that annoying.

"Well honey, I'm referring to your relationship and the changes it will experience, being married is very different from being lovers, when you marry Kaito you will discover things about him that no one else would understand!"

While Chikage put the pan on the fire and moved the meat from the bowl, Shinichi remained thoughtful. He already knew Kaito very well, what else should he know?

"but kaito and I already know each other very well, I don't think it will be a big change"

Chikage chuckled as she looked for something in the refrigerator and with all the cerenity in the world she began to explain.

"I thought the same thing when I married Toichi, but reality slapped me in the face when we started living together as a married couple, I never imagined that my beloved had such… 'peculiar' tastes and habits, you know"

she cleared his throat

"I still remember when I discovered that Toichi spoke in his sleep, it was very strange and funny! I discovered that if I whispered a little I could manipulate his dreams, when I discovered that Mr. gentleman was capable of insulting at such speed when he thought he was alone, when I discovered that he had insomnia and did strange things when he was sleep-deprived, or when I discovered that he loved talking to Kaito when he was barely born! Oh~ it was hilarious to see him interpret our baby's noises and gestures to continue the conversation!"

Shinichi was perplexed, he had no idea that his father-in-law could be so… similar to Kaito in the sense of being adorably weird. It was when a question crossed his mind, what would his kaito be like when they got married?

"So, was it a very drastic change?"

Shinichi began to prepare the salad without taking his eyes off his mother-in-law.

"Oh yes it was! It was a huge twist. going from 'Prince Charming' to 'I don't know how I got here if I don't even know how to boil water' and it was very fun, somewhat difficult but that's what life is about! change others and let others change you"

Shinichi looked lovingly at his mother-in-law, she was right, he and Kaito were young and still changing. It would undoubtedly be fun to evolve with his beloved, but he returned from his thoughts to be able to finish dinner. After many jokes and exchanging secrets from their lovers, dinner was served on time when the front door opened.

"kaa-san, shin-chan, we're home!"

Kaito entered and behind him came his father. Shinichi ran into Kaito's arms and kissed his cheek welcoming him, Kaito blushed and smiled while his parents murmured and laughed behind them. Already seated at the table, the magicians praised their loved ones.

"It's delicious, honey! Your seasoning is always so smooth and unique!" Toichi said while licking his fingers, completely leaving aside the cutlery.

"and the meat is juicy and tender, I'm impressed by how well you cook now shin-chan!" Kaito took another big bite, staining his white shirt.

both cooks looked at each other and laughed

"oh kai-chan, look what a mess you've made! my little messy baby!" Chikage said with a sweet tone and pinched Kaito's cheek.

"um, oji-san, there," shinichi said, holding back a laugh as he brought the fork to toichi.

both wizards looked at their hands/shirt, became silent and turned as red as a tomato.

"oi, chika-chan!" "oi, shin-chan!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had to get this out of my system, I love this beautiful family relationship, next is an outing with the kudo! maybe a halloween dance? or wedding preparations? I still haven't decided, help me with that

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} The 18 Questions Corner - Hachinoya Nagi

This is a translation for the 18 questions interview uploaded on the official Youtube channel. I suggest to read this translation alongside it!

Note: P stands for "Player", this series has a voiced male & female character for the player. The interviews are conducted by the male player in this case.

TL note:

Nagi makes a pun on the particla ~ka, with how the sound for crows cawing in Japanese is kaa kaa-! Joke is more or less the same in English in essence, just the target of the punification has been changed.

P: 18 questions for the Tourism Ward Mayors! We look forward to your cooperation!

Kuguri: Mhm, I’ll be in your care.

What’s your name?

Hachinoya Nagi

How old are you?

20 years old.

Tell us about your occupation!

Flower Laundry’s shopkeeper. Flowers and laundry needs are welcomed at my store. 

What’s the first thing you do when waking up in the morning?

Checking the weather… yeah.

Anything you’re particular about with lunch?

I’ll eat anything… food is important. 

What pops up in your mind when it comes to “evening”?

The cawing crows… makes me go, it’s cawlready evening-? …Just kidding.

What’s your routine before bed?

Listening to the radio. 

Where do you start with washing your body?

…My collarbone??

What’s essential when leaving for a trip?

Flowers… I think. 

What do you check before traveling somewhere?

Right… places where the view and air is clean. 

What’s your favorite method of transportation for traveling? 

This isn’t only limited to traveling, but my motorbike is my partner. 

What’s one item you’d bring to a deserted island?

A radio… would be nice to get a signal. 

Please give us some fanservice! 

✧・ﾟ: *Welcome to HAMA, here’s a big hug from the bottom of my heart on the house. *:・ﾟ✧… I guess along these lines. 

Who’s someone you’d lean on for support? 

I am the Night Squad’s leader, so I guess the other Squad leaders… Morning’s Renga, Noon’s Akuta, and Evening’s Raito-san. I can rely on all of them. 

Who would you swap bodies with for a day?

Evening Squad’s Tao… maybe. 

What would you want to do as them?

Become good at games… and try getting that dub. 

Pass on a message to your roommates!

Yodaka-san, you’re such a kind, considerate and capable adult that it’s admirable. Though you fall asleep before I even realize that…  

Tell us from the heart, what’s a “journey” to you? 

I’m not the kind of person that goes out traveling to begin with… so, it’s a “challenge” I guess.

P: Thank you, those were all 18 questions!

Nagi: That was fun. Appreciate your efforts. 

Nagi: HAMA’s 16th Ward Mayor, Hachinoya Nagi. Whenever you want flowers, or want to wash your laundry, my Flower Laundry’s door is always open. 

[urjacamiyu]

Sketch for last week (i'm late)

Title : Without Eyes To See

Author : outillthesunup

I just realize this is my 2nd sketch of this author's work. Hope you enjoy it.

Link :

Tobirama glanced in the little boy’s direction but did not move. Madara’s lip curled in anger.

The room was tense, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what would happen.

Kagami stood there staring at Tobirama’s blank face for a full minute before he mustered up the courage to speak.

“Are you like my Kaa-san?” Kagami asked. “She can’t see either.”

Then a soft gentle smile curved across Tobirama’s lips taking Madara’s breath away. “You’re a clever one aren’t you?”

Tobirama reached out, hand hovering in the air before it landed on Kagami’s inky black curls, ruffling them fondly and that’s when it hit home hard.

PS : I adjust some scene, i hope you dont mind, author.