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yatagarasuhonyaku · 3 months ago

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The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 2

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Shigemaru (Part 1)

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Chapter 1: Shigemaru (Part 2)

“Hey, wake up you idiot! The bell rang a long time ago!”

The next morning, Ichiryuu’s angry yelling shook Shigemaru back to the waking world. Ichiryuu had even taken his futon away. Shigemaru blinked, dazzled by the sudden brightness.

“Good morning……”

“You have some guts to loaf around when your seniors are already up and about, you hopeless baby! Get yourself ready, we have to go to breakfast.”

Ichiryuu had the distinctive look of someone who was enjoying himself a lot. His speech now over, he promptly left the room. Shigemaru rubbed his eyes, taking in his surroundings. The futon beside his own was already folded and Yukiya, who had ditched the nightwear for his feather robe, was sitting all proper at his bedside.

“Good morning, Shige.”

“Ah, good morning. You sure are an early bird.”

“No, just a very light sleeper, that's all. The morning bell woke me up instantly,” Yukiya laughed and offered him a wet towel to clean his face. “Apparently, breakfast today will be earlier than normal because of the entrance ceremony. We better hurry.”

“Oh, yes! Let's go.”

They all went and had their breakfast. Afterwards, the seniors, including Ichiryuu, left the Seeds behind in the dining hall. They had been instructed to remain there, standing in a line according to their height.

It took a while, but finally an administrative officer walked into the hall at a brisk pace. “The preparations are done. Stay in line and follow me, no dillydallying and no talking!”

The man first stood in front of them, and then started to walk out of the room. Following the instruction, Yukiya, who was first, immediately followed him with the rest of the trainees right behind. The administrative officer guided them towards the massive hall Ichiryuu had shown them the day before.

At last, it was time for their entrance ceremony.

The Saplings and Evergreens were already there, standing in rows at both sides of the room—leaving enough space for the Seeds in the middle. A group of older men, most likely their instructors, also waited in a line close to the seat of honor by the altar. Every single person in the room was dressed in strikingly similar feather robes. A true sea of black, the monotony only broken by the many colors of the instructors’ sashes.

The ceremony started with a salute to Yamagami's altar. The seniors quickly bowed on command, followed by the newcomers’ panicked attempt at imitating them. In comparison to the former’s perfect synchronization, clearly borne of habit, the latter were in complete disarray.

Once that was done, one of the instructors finally welcomed them to the Unbending Reed Monastery, the purported main purpose of the event. It didn’t last long, however, as his speech soon moved on to a variety of general advice, rules and warnings on the lifestyle of the Monastery instead.

Shigemaru, who was the tallest among the Seeds and hence the last in line, had a privileged view of the room during the whole affair. He caught sight of some of his fellow newcomers fidgeting in place as the speech went on, completely distracted. He also noticed that none of the seniors even budged. They stood firm, their backs straightened, resolute and unwavering.

The difference between the seniors and the Seeds was clear as day. Would he too be the same a year later? As Shigemaru was entertaining that thought, however, the instructor’s speech finally came to an end.

Next in the schedule was the symbolic conferral of their ornamented blades. For this particular occasion, a different man came to the front. He looked to be in his late sixties, his black hair covered in white strands—Shoukaku, the director and leader of the Monastery's instructors. The man had woven his feather robe in the shape of priest vestments, and resting on top of it was a deep purple sash, covered in golden embroidery. One could hardly define him as physically fit, but the wisdom in his stern-looking eyes was clearly visible.

The chosen representative for the first years was Akeru, the Western House boy who had gone after Yukiya during introductions last night. He personally received his ornamented blade from the director, brimming with confidence and self-assurance. With that attitude, it was hard for Shigemaru to believe the boy was actually younger than him.

Once Akeru had finally returned to his original spot, the director started to speak. “To our newcomers, I first want to express my gratitude for choosing the Unbending Reed Monastery. Congratulations and thank you.” Unlike Shigemaru expected, the director's speech had quite the conservative start.

“We all welcome you.” He had a beautiful voice, firm and deep, especially so for his age. As he spoke, the unfocused eyes of the distracted Seeds started to gather back at him.

“There were many candidates this year. You succeeded in the trials and managed to be selected among them all—your talent is beyond question. You are this institution’s hope, the ones that will shape its future. Keep in mind that the Monastery operates on two fundamental principles—that of complete autonomy, and that might makes right,” the director proclaimed to them.

“We shall not be bound by external powers and, as long as you have the talent and skill required, nothing shall limit you. We have sworn our loyalty only towards the Imperial Family and the Golden Raven, and nobody else,” he continued quietly.

“Yamauchi is about to face unprecedented peril,” the director stopped talking for a moment, his gaze going over the entire hall. “You'll most likely face battle to defend the Imperial Family, and Yamauchi with it, more than any of your predecessors. Be ready, as you'll be risking your lives to protect everything. As this Monastery’s trainees, I expect you to work hard so as to not embarrass our institution.” That sentence marked the end of the speech, a surprisingly short affair. Afterwards, the director returned to his original spot and, inwardly, Shigemaru sighed in relief.

The rest of the ceremony went on in a similar solemn manner. When only the closing speech remained, however, a ruckus started right outside of the hall.

“Director, Your Excellency, we have a problem—” An administrative officer frantically came running in. Shigemaru couldn’t tell what he told the instructors, but they were clearly panicking as they started to move.

“Open the way!”

Following the instructors’ orders, the confused newcomers abandoned the center of the room. Who were they opening the space for, nobody told them. Fortunately, the mystery didn’t last long. A colorful group of people walked through the doors a short while later.

The entire hall was shaken at the sight.

“Lord Natsuka……!” Among a multitude of whispers, one stunned voice stood out. Natsuka—in other words, the man who gave up his position as Crown Prince to his younger brother. His Lordship, the eldest son of the Imperial Family!

Shigemaru turned around. The first person who stuck out to him was a man of truly abnormal appearance. He was massive—Shigemaru was already a large man, yet even he was dwarfed by the man’s stature. His huge bulging muscles were visible even with his feather robe on, which was fashioned after high-class traveling robes, even if he wore no crown(1) to go with it.

He had haphazardly tied his hair back, which made it look like a tanuki's tail in the middle of winter, and sharp canines which peeked through his smiling lips. His nose was hooked and his eyes had a spark to them. It was truly a striking gaze.

——He didn't look like royalty.

As he realized that, Shigemaru noticed another young man walking right behind, as if protected by the one in front. Anyone could feel the characteristic aura of the Center's aristocracy from him. He was attractive and quite tall, although not as much as the man walking in front of him.

His long hair was cut evenly, untied as it fell down his back. For dress, he wore a monk's stole in lavish gold over his purple priestly robes. His features were elegant, yet stern and chiseled in the way you would expect of a warrior. From their respective clothes, one could surmise that the one in the back was none other than Lord Natsuka, and the man in front was simply a bodyguard.

Immediately, the director came up to the middle of the hall to greet them, accompanied by the rest of the instructors. “Lord Natsuka, we heard it would be impossible for you to visit this year.”

“We took care of things as quickly as possible to come here,” the bodyguard in front spoke with a grin. “Rejoice, director. He comes to represent His Highness Wakamiya.”

“That's enough. Stand back, Rokon.” Natsuka moved to stand in front of the director, as if pushing his bodyguard—the man named Rokon—aside. “To tell the truth, His Highness Wakamiya planned to come personally at first. His Highness had to take care of some matters at the Imperial Court, however, so I was entrusted with this task in exchange. Do please forgive me for the sudden intrusion.”

Natsuka spoke with a composure unusual for his age. Faced with the imperial prince's apology, the director gently shook his head. “Do not worry yourself. We members of the Monastery, including the Yamauchi Guard, belong to everyone in the Imperial Family. It is our utmost honor to welcome you, thank you for coming all the way here. Now, if you may follow me.”

The director guided Natsuka to the seat right in front of the altar, which was reserved for the exclusive use of the imperial family. Yet, Natsuka made no attempt to sit in it and instead turned to look at the trainees. Rokon naturally walked after him, followed by his subordinates, taking his place right behind Natsuka.

Natsuka’s eyes passed over the entire room, as if studying the trainees, and he started to speak. The instructors didn’t even get the chance to formally introduce him.

“First of all, I wish to congratulate the new Seeds on their admission. It’s a joy and honor to meet you all here today,” Natsuka declared in a clear voice. “The bond between the Monastery and the Imperial Family has grown weaker in recent years. Which, I feel, is a terribly unfortunate situation for both sides. Although it was impossible on this particular occasion, it’s His Highness' wish as well to come visit the Monastery whenever the opportunity presents itself in the future.”

Natsuka continued to speak, his expression unflinching. “Times are changing, and the harm the Monkeys bring cannot be ignored. All of us, the Imperial Family, the Monastery and the Guard, cannot stay the same as we have been until now. You all must adapt and act according to the times. This applies not only for the new arrivals, but all trainees gathered here today.”

He frowned as he kept a watchful eye on them. “Both you and I are in the same position. It’s our duty to become the Golden Raven's swords and shields. We shall protect our Master and keep peace in Yamauchi by doing so. No swords shall be entrusted to those who feel no pride in this duty. As part of the Monastery, I expect you to stand as the Golden Raven’s most loyal followers.”

“Salute!” a thundering voice shook the room.

“Yes!” The trainees moved in an instant, saluting in answer. Their hands overlapped under their chest, their palms raised upwards. The pose was supposed to represent the act of lifting up their bird form's third leg in offering.

Natsuka watched as all the trainees in the hall dedicated their invisible third legs to him and finally nodded, satisfied. After the closing speech that followed his own, his group left the hall with the director at their side.

“Lord Natsuka truly seems to get along with His Highness,” Shigemaru commented.

With the entrance ceremony over, the Seeds all went back to the dining hall to wait for instructions on their following classes. There, Shigemaru finally got his chance to approach Yukiya, who had been at the very front of the line, again.

“Yes! He can be a tad overprotective, but there’s no doubt that Lord Natsuka is His Highness’ biggest supporter.”

“You know, that was my first time meeting someone from the Imperial Family, and… How should I put it? He was so… dignified, I guess? His self-importance was on another level.”

They were talking and enjoying themselves when Shigemaru caught sight of someone’s figure by the door. Before he even got a chance to determine who it was, he heard the man deeply inhale.

“I see. You dipshits don't realize you're already Monastery trainees, huh!?” The man's shout was so loud the hall’s pillars trembled.

Silence filled the room. The startled Seeds stopped chatting immediately, yet it was too late—their instructor, followed by a group of assistants, had already entered the dining hall.

The man’s yelling didn’t stop at that, blue veins bulging in his forehead. “Look at you, twittering your lives away! Don't get cocky, you brats! You're no more than nestlings, incapable of anything but chirping, waiting and pleading for someone to put some food in those open mouths of yours!”

For a warrior, the man yelling at them was fairly short, yet the muscles in his arrogantly crossed arms were huge enough to make one doubt their eyes. Shigemaru felt himself shudder, thinking of what would happen to him if the instructor were to punch him.

The instructor looked only a little younger than the director, but they couldn’t be any less alike. The director looked stern, but had an air of thoughtfulness that only came with age. The man in front of them, on the other hand—with his sunken, round eyes and his upturned nose—was the very picture of a frightening outlaw. His skin was like well-worn leather, and not a single strand of hair was left on his shining head.

“What are you doing, sitting in front of an instructor!? Stand up!”

Following his orders, the so-called nestlings stood up all flustered. Reprimands kept on coming from all directions as they did it. ‘Too slow’, ‘stop dillydallying’. It seemed to never end. At some point during this entire process, more than four assistant instructors had moved to surround them. The men frowned at the trainees, scrutinizing their every move.

“I'll be in charge of all your practical courses. I'm Instructor Kashin,” the man introduced himself as he walked in front of them, a consistent downwards glare on his face. “You truly are like a bunch of nestlings, eggshells still stuck on your asses. I get headaches just from looking at you, but this is, alas, my duty. I’ll answer to your ceaseless tweeting, and stuff enough food into those constantly open beaks of yours till your bellies explode.”

“So,” Kashin kept explaining as he turned around, “you better pay attention before it comes to that. Take the knowledge of how to hunt and fly on your own from those who feed you. If you bother to close your beaks and savor the food we give you, you'll eventually get the strength to actually fly before you burst open.”

Kashin stopped all of a sudden, face-to-face with the closest trainee. “Hey, you.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Tell me, what are the basic skills required of the Yamauchi Guard?”

“Huh?”

“The Monastery's entrance exams are categorized according to them. Go on, tell me.”

The trainee in question could only tremble uncontrollably, incapable of answering.

“Too slow! If you don't know, just say so!”

“I-I don't know!”

“Then better learn from this. Next!”

The next trainee, standing right beside the other, floundered as he attempted to answer. “Swordsmanship, archery and… horsemanship……?”

“That's all?”

“That's… all I know.”

“What are you, a chicken!? Incapable of remembering even what you have done?”

“I'm sorry!”

“Don't apologize so easily! Hold your head high, even if it's just for show. Don't ever give others such a blatant opening to attack you, make them work for it. Next!”

“The skills required of a member of the Yamauchi Guard are what we call the Six Arts, Four Techniques and Two Studies(2),” the trainee answered calmly.

For once, Kashin didn't scream as he looked back at the boy. “And that means?”

“The Six Arts refer to the following: Etiquette, Poetry and Music, Archery, Riding, Writing, and Accounting. The Four Techniques are composed of Strategy, Swordsmanship, Martial Arts, and General Combat. Lastly, the Two Studies are Medicine and Law.”

It was such a smooth answer that the others gasped in admiration. The third trainee Kashin had singled out was none other than a beautiful-looking redhead—Akeru of the Western House. Kashin gave him a good, hard look, yet the boy’s gaze remained fixed in front of him.

Finally, the instructor nodded. “Correct. Just as he said, we refer to a Guard's skillset as the Six Arts, Four Techniques and Two Studies.”

The Yamauchi Guard had the authority to act as legitimate Court Officials in cases of emergency. The Six Arts were considered to be essential in order to properly exercise such a right. They were divided into five different courses: ‘Etiquette and Poetry’, ‘Archery’, ‘Horsemanship’, ‘Writing’, and ‘Accounting’.

Then, there were the Four Techniques. ‘Strategy’, to learn to lead troops; ‘Swordsmanship’, to perfect their skill with a blade; ‘Martial Arts’, to master the ways of fighting unarmed; and lastly ‘General Combat’, which covered any other weapons such as spears and throwing knives.

Finally, the Two Studies. ‘Medicine’, to be capable of mending one’s wounds if necessary; and ‘Law’, to understand the Court's regulations and the extent of the Guard's area of action and any associated limits. In total, the Monastery had eleven subjects, and the further their studies progressed, the more their lessons focused on practice and less on theory.

“Five of them are labeled as practical courses: Archery, Horsemanship, Swordsmanship, Martial Arts, and General Combat. Once you become Saplings and Evergreens, Strategy will also be included in this category as you start with mock battles.”

In other words, out of the existing eleven subjects, Kashin was responsible for a total of five—almost half of them. “I won't be nice to you. Don’t expect me to hold back. If you want to leave, please do so. If you want to run, feel free. The Unbending Reed Monastery isn't so lenient a place as to stop those who have no will to keep going,” Kashin suddenly said in a low voice. The boy in front of Shigemaru gulped.

“Now, to continue, I'll give you all your ornamented blades. When I call your name, speak up and come to the front.”

Immediately, the Seeds saluted and, one by one, went on to receive their own blades. Shigemaru couldn’t help but to wonder just how many people had owned them before. The cord of the ornamented blade they gave him was new, of that there was no doubt, but he could see small scratches all over the rest of it.

Once all trainees had received their blade, Kashin called one of his assistants to the front. “From here on, coming to lessons in whatever feather robe you prefer is forbidden. Look at what he's wearing and weave an identical one. Right now.”

The assistant instructor stood in front of the trainees, following Kashin's orders, and he extended his arms to make the robe easier for them to see. Then, he slowly spun around just once to show them the details. The look was completely different from what the instructors had worn at the ceremony, or the feather robes Natsuka's bodyguards wove for themselves.

Instead of the usual kimono sleeves, these were shaped like a tube, getting narrower from the elbow downwards. Below the knees, the hakama was melded with the gaiters and tabi with no opening whatsoever. A band of wrapped fabric with a pouch(3) covered the body from chest to thighs and was held up by an obi belt. At first glance, it made the outfit have some undeniable resemblance to the garments worn by court officials and high nobility.

Shigemaru wove his own to match the example as closely as possible, yet one of the assistant instructors, who was walking among the trainees watching for any mistakes, still gave him a warning.

“Don’t just imitate the shape. Make the fabric on the shoulders and elbows thicker and fit it as closely to your own body as possible. At the very least, it must be more or less as thick as the soles under your feet.”

“Thicker…?”

“It’s to protect the joints. It will help absorb the impact when you get hit, so make sure to make it again and overlap several layers.”

Oh, so that was why. Shigemaru was weaving his feather robe anew when Kashin, who was also walking among the trainees, started to explain. “The uniform’s shape is designed to be as minimalistic as possible so it won’t impede your movement on the battlefield. It will help protect your vital organs, I can guarantee its functionality. On top of that, as long as you weave it properly, it will ensure that any hick of a raven looks decent, proper even. It's a garment fit even for attending official ceremonies and rituals.”

Once most of the trainees had finished fixing their feather robes, Kashin insisted once more that, as trainees, they had to wear these at all times. “Now, we'll see how to strap on your ornamented blades.”

A warrior had to be capable of transforming and taking on the role of a horse in case of an emergency. In order to not drop their weapons and to not impede their own shapeshifting in the process, they had to tie their swords in a very specific way.

“You'll learn more about this during your ‘Horsemanship’ lessons but, if you know how to tie the straps properly, your katana or tachi can even become replacement stirrups and bit. However, if any of you just tie it down haphazardly and end up incapable of using it in times of need, I'll come find you personally and use my sword to turn you into dirt.”

How one could turn the ornamented blade into stirrups and bit was a mystery to Shigemaru, but he made an effort to tie it on his hip exactly as instructed all the same. By the time the assistants had given them all their approval once again, they had finally morphed into proper-looking Monastery trainees.

By the time it was all over, the sun was still high in the sky and so the instructors brought the Seeds out to the plaza in front of the great hall. Finally, the training was about to actually start—or so Shigemaru thought. Reality proved to be a whole different story.

The rest of their day was spent on two orders only, delivered by Kashin time and time again: ‘group up’ and ‘line up’.

The newcomers, wholly uncoordinated with each other, kept on moving as instructed. They lined up and then dispersed, changed places and grouped once more; then lined up just to disperse again—the same actions on repeat, over and over again, until the sun finally set.

“That's all for today!” Kashin said by the time dinner preparations were about to start.

By that point, the Seeds were completely exhausted not physically, but mentally. “What was that…?”

“Why do that? What's even the point?”

Everyone was complaining after spending their entire day repeating the same two things. It was beyond boring and, to their displeasure, it proved to not be limited to their first day either. It was all they did past afternoon the following day and the day after that as their instructors hammered in the technique behind moving efficiently as a group. They saw no other form of training until one single command was enough to make their bodies move on reflex.

The simplistic and apparently unending training drills were still ongoing by the time theory lessons started and, as far as Shigemaru was concerned, those were a much bigger problem.

The morning courses consisted of six subjects: Etiquette and Poetry, Writing, Accounting, Strategy, Medicine, and Law. Shigemaru didn’t have many chances to even read back at home, so every single one of them was nothing more than gibberish to him and, to make matters worse, the amount of homework was beyond staggering.

He returned to his room as soon as he was done with dinner and his bath, even skipping sleep to dedicate himself to it, and he was still incapable of finishing it all. Shigemaru wasn't the only one struggling either—most of his fellow commoners seemed to be having the exact same problem as him.

From the second day onwards, Yukiya started helping him out and, as soon as the rest of the commoner trainees got wind of that, they too put their shame aside and came to ask for help. Yukiya gladly welcomed them and actually did his best to teach them all. However, they found a massive hurdle in their way.

——Yukiya was, in fact, utterly hopeless as a teacher.

“To think I would have to face my own inadequacy like this!” ‘Don't worry, it'll be easy’, he had once said, yet all that initial self-confidence was now long gone. Confronted by his own inability to translate thoughts into words, Yukiya held his head in despair.

“It's fine, Yukiya, it's really fine. We know you're trying your best to teach us…” The trainees gathered in the tenth room cried, well aware of the scolding that awaited them the following day. Meanwhile, a pained Yukiya could only watch over the scene powerlessly.

“It is not fine!” he insisted.

In the end, Yukiya let them copy his own homework.

Theory lessons were Shigemaru's natural enemy, yet there was one specific subject that stood out among them all—‘Etiquette and Poetry’. Their first class was the day immediately after the entrance ceremony and doubled as their first theory session. Once they were finished cleaning up their breakfast trays as they usually did, the trainees went on to distribute the long desks resting in a corner of the room throughout the dining hall and sat there, waiting with frayed nerves, for the instructor to arrive.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a good rest last night,” their new instructor greeted them with a smile as he arrived.

His appearance was unlike anything one would expect from a Monastery instructor. He seemed to be past his forties and his silky-looking hair was loosely gathered and tied down. His gentle face was decorated with laugh lines and his feather robe was woven for comfort, its fit good but loose. All in all, he gave off the impression of a young retiree who had since lived a good, sequestered life. Unlike your average retiree, however, his right arm was nowhere to be seen.

——Their Etiquette instructor was an amputee, one noticeably younger than he looked.

“My name is Seiken. I'll be in charge of your ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ classes for this year. Don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions or requests about anything concerning your studies. We'll be spending a lot of time together, so it’s in our best interest to make it as productive as possible.”

After Kashin, with his intimidating appearance and the entire evening he had spent screaming at them, the Seeds found Seiken’s smile anticlimactic and, while most of them were simply perplexed, others had obviously started to look down on their apparently humble instructor.

“Instructor,” a boy quickly raised his hand. He had been among those complaining about the amount of theory they had to study before the class had even started.

“Yes?” Seiken turned towards him, a smile on his face.

The trainee promptly asked. “I don’t understand. Why do we have to learn something like ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ in a place like the Monastery?”

“Oh, now that's a problem,” Seiken muttered with a frown. However, he didn't seem angry in the slightest.

Emboldened by the instructor’s reaction, the trainee started to get carried away. “I mean, isn't swordsmanship the most important skill for a Yamauchi Guard? But we weren’t even allowed to touch a bamboo sword yesterday. If we are going to waste our time on such things, shouldn't we frequent the dojo more?”

It was undeniable that, even out of the theory subjects, ‘Etiquette and Poetry’ seemed like the most meaningless of them all. Shigemaru himself could still understand why they would study Writing or Accounting. A Guard had to be able to read orders or handle their unit's finances, after all. That made sense. Etiquette, however? Proper manners and dress? Court ethics? Hearing that, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what they were supposed to even do.

The rest of the trainees, also unhappy with their current workload consisting exclusively of group movement drills and theory, started to whisper in unanimous agreement.

“Besides, what happened to your arm?” the boy asked out of curiosity.

At that, Seiken forced a smile. “I had quite the eventful youth.”

“But you're a Monastery instructor, aren't you?”

He didn’t have to voice it out loud for everyone to know what he truly meant. How could someone like him, who was missing an arm, guide them, warriors-to-be?

Now, Shigemaru was the first one annoyed by the sheer amount of theory, but that and this were different matters altogether—that last question was just insensitive. The boy's attitude was out of place and unbefitting of a Monastery trainee.

Shigemaru waited, wondering how Seiken would react to the provocation. The man, however, didn't lash out or even try to blame his student.

“Thank you for your concern, but I'm already retired from active service. As you have already well noticed, I’m not fit for anything resembling proper work in my state anymore,” Seiken didn't seem to be troubled at all by the question. His expression was more concerned than anything, and a few trainees scoffed at that.

“And yet, society is truly a marvelous thing,” as Seiken kept speaking, the laughs suddenly stopped. “The right man for the right job, you know? As long as you have actual talent, there will be somewhere for you to make the most of it. I lost the qualifications to be a Yamauchi Guard myself, but I turned out to be a good fit to train future ones. Which is why I'm now standing here as your tutor.”

His expression was just as gentle as before, yet the tension filling the hall could be cut with a knife. “The Yamauchi Guard holds the power to act as actual Court Officials if the situation calls for it. You aren't aiming to become plain old soldiers here. What you'll be learning in these ‘Etiquette’ lessons isn't how to acquire power, but how to best use said power—or, in other words, to not misuse it.” Seiken then murmured with clear emotion. “But, well, that can be said of all the other subjects as well.”

Just like that, his young students found their attempts at ridicule entirely shut down by him.

“You must not become power yourselves. There is no meaning in that,” he finally said resolutely. Seiken faced the now silent trainees and gave them a sweet smile. “Don't misunderstand me. If it all boiled down to physical raw strength, you would become no different from the roughnecks of the Ravine. You aren't outlaws, and this Monastery definitely doesn't exist to raise people like that either. This class's purpose is precisely to turn a bunch of irrational beasts prone to violence into splendid Yatagarasu,” Seiken's tone of voice was totally calm, yet firm.

“If you still have any issue with this class after having heard that, I won't stop you from leaving. I'll respect your decision. However, if that’s the case, you better leave this place. You'll only get in the way of the other trainees.”

Etiquette and Poetry was both a hard requisite and the first course to be taught out of all of the theory ones. The moment someone left the room, he would have no option but to return to his dormitory room in order to pack his belongings. It would mean saying his farewells to the Monastery altogether.

“......Any other questions?” Seiken looked over the frozen trainees as he held an oppressive silence. Finally, he gave them a faint smile. “Very well. Let's begin then.”

That day, the lesson only went as far as the trainees’ self-introductions and going over the class schedule. Seiken didn't raise his voice even once in the entire process, always gentle to a fault. However, most of the trainees seemed to share the same opinion of him by the time the bell rang and they got to leave the dining hall—Seiken was, actually, way more terrifying than Kashin.

Then, the next day in Accounting, they learned that Seiken was, in fact, their main instructor for anything concerning theory subjects.

Group drills and theory were their constant for a while. By the time the trainees were able to follow Kashin’s commands to perfection, the cherry trees, in full bloom when they had arrived, were already covered in green leaves. At last, practical courses could truly start in earnest.

First was Horsemanship. In short, the subject was all about riding horses and driving flying carriages. However, in the specific case of the Yamauchi Guard, they had to be able to perform both the role of the rider and of the horse. The ultimate goal was to be able to cover very long distances in pairs by switching between rider and horse midair.

The early Horsemanship lessons consisted, however, of marching drills. The instructor and his assistants led the way or stood side by side with them as they ran around the Monastery's grounds, shifting to fly when the situation called for it.

Yatagarasu lost their power to change forms once the sun set, so they would be stuck in bird form if that ever happened, unable to turn human again until the dawn of the following day. The opposite was also true, of course. It was for this reason that lessons finished as soon as the sun started to sink, yet that didn’t make them feel any shorter. Even with breaks along the way, it was still endless training from lunch to nightfall, shifting over and over again.

At first, Shigemaru was worried for Yukiya, wondering if he would be able to keep up with this kind of training. As a commoner, Shigemaru was very much used to shifting forms, but he had heard that plenty of Court Ravens spent their entire lives without ever consciously transforming. In fact, Akeru seemed to struggle quite a bit with these marching drills despite his otherwise excellent performance.

The closer to the Center Yatagarasu lived—or the higher their rank—, the more ‘shame’ they felt regarding their bird form. Part of it was because of the horses, people who were incapable of surviving in human form and who were forced to spend their lives working in bird form. The other main reason was the punishment referred to as ‘Disarticulation’(4)—the heaviest penalty possible right after death and exile from Yamauchi itself. The punished were forced to take bird form with no going back, toiling as a horse for the rest of their lives.

Their third leg, which was only visible as ravens, was widely considered to be the ‘proof of their Yamagami-given divinity’ and the single most important organ of a Yatagarasu. This was also the reason behind the salute performed by the warriors of Yamauchi, designed to mimic the act of holding the third leg out in offering. If said leg were to be cut, they would be incapable of taking human form ever again.

The reigning theory was that this played a huge part of why Court Ravens, who could easily afford to live without transforming, disliked the idea of doing so in public so vehemently. However, as far as the commoners were concerned, their bird forms made travel much easier and helped them work more efficiently, so avoiding it over shame of all things was plainly idiotic.

According to what they had talked about, Yukiya was a rural noble, so where did he land in this particular dichotomy? When the drills first started, Shigemaru had been quite worried about that, yet it all turned out to be wholly unnecessary.

In their entire training routine, the hardest hurdle to overcome was the bamboo grove. The Monastery actively maintained and thinned it out so that the gap between the trees was just wide enough for a bird Yatagarasu to barely fit through when flying. On top of that, the instructors kept watch from up in the sky and would immediately correct anyone who tried to bypass the exercise by flying over the grove instead.

Those skilled with their wings could pass it by flying, while the rest were left with no option but to return to human form midway and keep running—or end up crashing against the bamboo stalks. If you got stuck there in your bird form, you could end up blocking everyone else's way, so even Shigemaru, who was used to flight, struggled with this part.

Left with no other option, Shigemaru switched to his human form and started to run, ornamented blade in hand, just as he felt a disturbance in the air over his head. A bird’s shadow passed right over him.

And what an adept flier he was. He didn’t go particularly fast, true, but he flew as lightly as a swallow even with the other lamenting trainees, the many feathers swirling around, and the flapping wings that overtook his sight.

The raven moved ahead, nimbly dodging every single obstacle. He had come all the way from the rear, yet he somehow managed to reach the vanguard group by the end.

As he took human form, Shigemaru noticed the dandelion-like fluffy hair.

There was no mistaking it, that was Yukiya.

“Good job, Shige.” Once the lagging Shigemaru finally arrived at the finish line, Yukiya approached him. He looked as fresh as ever, not even the slightest hint of fatigue in his face.

“You're amazing! You were among the first to arrive before I even noticed, I didn't expect that.”

“Well, I may be a rural noble in theory, but mine is a warrior family—I was taught the fundamentals ever since I was a little kid. A warrior who isn't accustomed to using his own bird form would be useless in an emergency.”

It would take Shigemaru a while to realize, but for someone like him, who had so far trained entirely on his own, befriending someone like Yukiya from a proper warrior family had been quite the stroke of good luck.

Next: Shigemaru (Part 3)

—————————————

1: The traveling robes here refer to Kachie (褐衣), a variant of the Hou (袍), the outer layer typically worn by high-ranking men in the Heian era. The Kachie was typically worn, between others, by warriors lacking any kind of official rank. The crown refers to a Kanmuri (冠), the hat typically used along with a Hou by adults back then.

2: The Rikugei Shijutsu Nigaku (六芸四術二学) are modelled after the historical Rikugei (六芸), the arts considered essential for noblemen and high ranking people in Ancient China, said to originate during the Zhou Dynasty. Shijutsu (四術) had a similar usage, as the four paths an intellectual had to master in ancient times. Unlike the Rikugei, which are a copy virtually word-for-word, Yamauchi's Shijutsu has nothing in common with the historical Shijutsu beyond the name.

3: The original description is a doumaki (胴巻き), which were essentially money pouches, attached to a ran (襴), which was the wrapped fabric forming the lower section of the aforementioned Hou (袍). This is why, in the eyes of Yamauchi’s society, it helps make the outfit look more suitable for formal events.

4: As a note, this is the first time Disarticulation or Leg Cutting (斬足) was mentioned in the novels. The finer details of Hamayuu’s past were significantly revamped for the anime.

#Translation: The Raven of the Empty Coffin #yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai

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seekers-who-are-lovers · 5 months ago

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Aahh! Finally, Bunshun released the short story about Yukiya’s two mothers, Fuyuki, and Azusa. Plus, the prologue of the fourth book, “The Empty Coffin,” where Yukiya embarks to study in Keisoin Academy and there he meets his classmates.

The short story, however, includes the incident where Yukiya and Yukichi got lost in the woods and a mysterious large bird saved them. It is here! (This is roughly Google-translated, but it is a start!)

Fuyuki was a cold-hearted, bitter, mean, but, above all, a loving woman.

She loved her son and trusted Azusa.

“If it were Azusa, she wouldn't do anything bad to my child, would she?”

It took a long time. Still, Azusa felt that Fuyuki’s real voice finally reached her.

Please take care of my child.

"Yes, that's right, Fuyuki-sama. Yukiya is our son.” Azusa said out loud as she walked.

"So please, Fuyuki-sama. Please protect Yukiya and Yukichi. Please let them go home safely.”

The moment she said that, she felt like the trees were swaying even though there was no wind.

One could see that the moon on the top of the tree was distorted in a strange way.

After a moment, the outline of the moon, which was pale and hazy, became clear and began to emit a sparkling light. With the big full moon on its back, a black silhouette was floating.

Azusa gasped as she fixed her eyes for a while.

It was an incredibly large shadow of a bird.

Even in the main residence of the North Family, where famous horses were gathered from all over the world, she had never seen anything with such a huge body. Azusa couldn't decide whether it was the same kind of species, it slowly approached her.

It landed leisurely in front of Azusa, who was standing up.

The moment it descended, Azusa's hair flew up under the wings.

When she saw it up close, it was still a ridiculously large crow.

She thought it was three times more than an ordinary Yatagarasu.

The black iron-like beak was sharp, and it should be scary, but strangely, it didn't feel like that.

The eyes directed at Azusa sparkled like crystals, and its feathers, even in the faint moonlight, gleamed with a hard, purplish-blue luster. Even without considering its size, there was something otherworldly about it, as if the very air around it was different.

Azusa, who was staring in astonishment, noticed that the crow was holding something in its beak.

What could it be? It looked like a basket.

Then, the large crow, having caught Azusa's gaze, gently placed it at her feet.

"Is this child your son?"

Unexpectedly, a high, clear voice like that of a young boy echoed.

Looking closer, she saw that her sons were sleeping inside a basket woven from wisteria vines adorned with flowers.

"Yukiya! Yukichi!”

She rushed over and clung to the basket as if to devour it.

Yukiya, who was covered in mud, was hugging his brother. Yukichi's eyelids were red and swollen, but neither of them seemed to be injured anywhere in sight.

“Don't worry. They're just sleeping for a bit, but they'll wake up soon. I'm sorry,” the large crow said clearly, tilting its head. “Because I hastily mended the barrier, they got caught in the gaps.”

Azusa was stunned because she didn't understand what the Yatagarasu meant, so he repeated it.

“It means that these children were stuck in a place where they couldn't get out on their own. It's my fault, so please don't scold them.”

Azusa nodded in a daze.

"Are you … Yamagami-sama's servant?"

"...Well, something like that."

"Thank you for helping my sons."

“It was originally my fault. When these children grow up, there may come a time when we meet again. They are good children. Raise them with care.”

After saying that, the big karasu rolled his wings and flew away. Once again, the moon distorted. In the blink of an eye, as if it were an illusion, the great crow melted into the sky and disappeared.

I am crying. The story of Fuyuki, Azusa and Yukimasa is heartbreaking. Fuyuki, like Yukiya, hated her side of the family and the nobles. Oryo, her mother, was a former courtesan at the pleasure district it took long enough for her to be accepted in the family until she produced three children with Lord Genya. Every motivation here is politics.

Yukimasa, like we all know, was an opportunist, who took advantage of Fuyuki’s feelings. What Yukiya feels toward his father is justified and yet he has grown up rational enough to see how his stepmother and brothers treat him and love him as if he is their own full flesh and blood.

#yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #yukiya #lady azusa #fuyuki #yukimasa #wakamiya #chisato abe #Natsumi Matsuzaki #yukichi #there is six years difference between fuyuki and azusa #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai #an excerpt #thinking of Fuyuki

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juggernautglitch · 2 months ago

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With the pull of a trigger, Tatsuya Yamagami shone a light on the corrupting and evil influence of the Unification Church on the Japanese government. By the simple application of patience, the fellow who adjusted Brian Thompson to a new claim status won the adoration of roughly 85% of the United States, and got other insurance companies to change their policies OVERNIGHT.

So, for anyone worried about the next four years in America...

You call it a presidential cabinet.

I call it a target-rich environment.

#united states #health insurance #brian thompson #Trump

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shipperoftooncouples · 9 months ago

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MY 30 CHARACTERS LONG TIER LIST OF CANON/HEADCANON AROACE:

(Asexual + Aromantic, or both!)

•Georgia Warr/Loveless (aroace)

•Tori Springs/Heartstopper (ace)

•Isaac Henderson/Heartstopper (aroace)

•Sherlock Holmes (aroace)

•Alastor/Hazbin Hotel (aroace)

•Lilith/The owl house (aroace)

•Stanford Pines/Gravity Falls (aroace)

•Perry the platypus/ Phineas and Ferb(ace)

•Phineas Flynn/Phineas and Ferb (aro)

•Sponge bob/ Sponge Bob squarepants(ace)

•Peridot/ Steven Universe(aroace)

•Hiro hamada/ Big Hero six (aro)

•Merida/Brave (aro)

•Jessica Rabbit/Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (ace)

•Luffy/One piece(aroce)

•Saiki/Saiki Kusuo no Psi-nan (aroace)

•Kyotaka Ayanokoji/Classroom of Elite(aroace)

•Light Yamagami/ Death Note(aroace)

•L /Death Note (aroace)

•Seiji Maki/Bloom into you (aroace)

•Mina Ashido/Boku no Hero (aro)

•Senku Ishigami/Doctor Stone (aroace)

•Kakashi/Naruto (aroace)

•Gwenpool/Gwenpool comic series (aroace)

•Tod Chavez/Bojack Hoserman(ace)

•Florence Simmons/Sex education(ace)

•Sarah'O'owen/ Sex education(ace)

•Aziraphale/ Good Omens (ace)

•Crowley/Good Omens (ace)

•Cash/Heartbreak high (ace)

•Jeff Winger/Community (aro)

•Shadow the Hedghog/Sonic games (aroace)

•Reigen Arataka/Mob Psycho 100 (ace)

...continue this list yourself!

Please if you agree or not, put at the comments, AND ALSO REBLOG THIS LIST WITH YOUR HEADCANONS OR CANON CHARACTERS!

(I'll be putting your characters in red)

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notmozzi · 2 years ago

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hii legoskii i was wondering if we could see more of evil kiriko smut .. 😞😞😞

Villain!Kiriko x Reader (NSFW)

A/N: sorry for the wait! been busy, but hope this will suffice :)

——————

It was a calm, cool night- just half an hour past midnight. You’d been attending the yearly Fox Festival in Kanezaka with a group of friends, primarily to see the fireworks. And on your way home, you’d decided to stop for a drink at a bar. A simple, single glass. Something light. Why not?

However, in return, you ended up finding great interest in the dance floor, and in no time you were partying along with others around your age, letting yourself unwind. The night had still been young, after all. And you’d always liked to dance. Plus, being surrounded by complete strangers made it better!

But then, you saw her. She wasn’t dancing, she was watching from a distance. Leaning against the bar with a small glass of bourbon in one hand. Dressed in all black, with her button-up being unbuttoned enough to expose her collarbone and everything above it. You’d barely made out a thin, silver chain around her neck, glistening under the distant lights of the dance floor. She had also been smoking what you’d assumed was a cigarette, but later learned was just a thin cigar. How classy.

You’d noticed her after taking a break to catch your breath, having planned to return to the fun for a few more songs after the following one ended. But…you’d gotten a little tipsy. And seeing this attractive young woman eyeing you like a tiger in the woods made your confidence spike a couple notches.

It hadn’t taken you long to get shy around her, though. She’d held herself up very well, and her voice was extremely weakening, god. Not to mention how tall she was, how she looked at you, and how confident, coy and witty she was. Everything about her practically screamed powerful.

A conversation had quickly sparked, flirtations thrown in the mix, and the woman eventually revealed to you that she owned the place. She’d invited you to the back to show you proof, among other things, and as you’d grown more comfortable around her, she’d grown more…intimate. Nothing to make you uncomfortable, of course. Just subtle touches that gradually got bolder.

Then, standing before one another in silence, Kiriko eventually sensed that you two wanted the same thing. She set her cigar down onto a nearby ashtray, yet as you two neared a kiss, the woman briskly pulled away, quietly informing you who she was. An utter of her full name, and nothing more.

And this had instantly alerted you. Kiriko Kamori was easily Kanezaka’s most notorious vigilante. A thief, a manipulator, and most of all- a killer.

Millions of questions ran rampant. One of which being; how in the hell did Kiriko own an entire bar? And why? Simple. She went by another name. Kiriko Yamagami. Well. Yamagami, for short.

“I don’t really tell people my first name.” Kiriko huffed, a vague cloud of smoke ghosting from her nostrils as she put the cigar back to her lips. “I mean, no reason for them to know, right? It’d only be a risk.” A smirk made its way onto her face as she took another drag. “More so for them.”

As for the “why,” Kiriko simply enjoyed having an excuse to unwind. Owning a bar wasn’t necessarily difficult for her. She could also use the steady income, even if she was already a thief.

Learning all of this had, of course, stunned you. This woman wasn’t just well-known, but she was feared. You’d never seen her before this, obviously, but the news had made her capabilities pretty obvious. She was strong, unafraid to kill, quick, and absolutely out for blood.

And yet, by the time you two were alone in a closed-off, secluded room, sexual tensions were too high to ignore. You felt your heart tugging for you to just pounce, and looking into that woman’s dangerously attractive eyes, you simply couldn’t find a bone within you that even wanted to run. All you wanted was her. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was your raging attraction to women. Either way, you didn’t care.

And Kiriko sensed this, too. It only took about three minutes of small talk before things grew intimate again; and this time, Kiriko didn’t hold back. Having finished her cigar, she simply tossed it to the floor and let it air out, approaching you with a predatory glint in her eyes. You felt helpless in the most addicting way possible as she brought a hand to your chest, pressing you firmly against the nearest wall as her lips crashed against yours.

And that’s how you ended up here. Grinding against her while she watched.

The room was dimly lit by the warm, orange hue of the surrounding LEDs. A mini-bar sat in one corner of the room, but most space was taken up by a large, maroon-colored couch. The fancy furniture surrounded a glass roundtable in the center of the room, and atop said table stood two unfinished glasses of bourbon, along with an ashtray. This was a lounge dedicated to only a few people- a lounge dedicated to sheer, absolute privacy and comfort. And that level of privacy was something you definitely needed.

Straddling Kiriko’s lap with your knees pressed against the couch, a drawn out, high-pitched whine fell past your lips as you needily ground your hips down against hers. Smiling up at you with a coquettish hum, the vigilante brought her hand up to your clothed sex, gingerly pressing three digits against your clit and eliciting another whine from you.

Delightful shivers ran down your spine, and sparks of pleasure exploded within you from the point of contact. Eager for more, you pressed back into her, attempting to create more friction. And with nothing more than a chuckle, Kiriko simply watched you work your way to climax against her, her eyes dark with lustrous thrill.

“Yeah,” her voice was low, her tone laced with hunger, almost as if she were holding herself back from what else she wanted to do to you. “That’s my girl.”

“Fffuck…please-“

Every word she spoke fueled a fire of need within you. Feeling her hands at your hips, her hips beneath yours, and most of all, her eyes dead-set on you- it was exhilarating. You were getting wetter and wetter every time you made eye contact with her, everytime you felt her.

Kiriko began gingerly rubbing circles over your clit with a thumb, feeling wetness through your clothes as you continued to ride her. It was almost embarrassing, how willing you were to cum for this woman even if it meant fully clothed. But that look in her eye was beyond alluring. And she had this dangerous edge to her voice; it was intimidating yet turned you on to an embarrassing extent.

Suddenly, Kiriko put slightly more pressure against your clit, causing your hips to jolt and a sharp moan to elicit from you. Your breathing became ragged as you struggled to keep your movements consistent. Still rutting, your mouth was slightly ajar as weak, desperate sounds fell from you.

“You like that?” Kiriko purred, watching closely as your face scrunched up in that cute way it always does when you’re close. Taking a shuddering breath, you couldn’t find the ability to respond to her coherently; you instead continued to grind, your hands clinging desperately onto each of Kiriko’s shoulders as your movements grew feverish.

“Bad girl. I think you do.”

Kiriko sat back against the cushions, her hands now guiding your hips and encouraging you to speed up, which you enthusiastically did. As you began further pressing her into the cushions, she couldn’t help tilting her head back, letting out a low groan at the sensation. She absolutely loved it- having such a needy girl like you sitting in her lap and using her to get off. Hearing your sweet little sounds as she touched you; seeing you submit.

With a growl, Kiriko suddenly bucked up into you, making you gasp.

“F-fuck…” you panted, burying your face into the crook of her neck, “…m’gonna….sshhhittt-“

Kiriko didn’t respond right away, gripping your hips tighter as she continued guiding the movement of your hips. Your heavy breathing and sounds of pleasure began to fill the air. Yours specifically, but Kiriko was beginning to let herself loose as well. You were both grateful that the music outside was as loud as it was.

“You’re so- mm- so needy…” Kiriko groaned softly, a coy laugh audible in her tone. You could see her cheeks go crimson as she began to pleasure herself as well- bucking up into you. The sight made you gush. “You’re cute like this,” she opened her eyes for a moment and looked up to watch you, chuckling a bit when you looked back with those wide, hazy eyes, “you know that?”

The praise, and she knew it, made you weak. You felt like you were truly hers, and not just in a possessive way. The way she touched you tenderly and took her time with you got you all sorts of hot and bothered. And so you whimpered into her neck, too shy to respond with words, but hoping the wet kiss you pressed against her throat would suffice.

And it definitely had. You immediately heard her sigh pleasantly at the touch, and curiously, you did it again, this time adding a graze of your tongue.

“…Mmm…keep doing that.” Kiriko murmured, her eyes closing once more. One of her hands reached up to rest on the back of your neck, gently pushing your face closer, “Do that again, sweetheart.”

The petname made heat shoot straight to your clit, but the command itself brought a small smirk to your lips. She likes that, huh?

Dutifully, you began to leave vague hickies anywhere you could along the side of Kiriko’s neck. Your teeth skimmed over the soft flesh just under her jaw, but closer to her shoulders you were sure to leave darker marks. The pleased sigh and occasional, low moan that escaped the vigilante with each bite sent shivers up your spine. She went from holding onto your neck to gently tugging your hair, whispering small praises like “just like that” or “you’re so good at this, Y/N” into your ear. Eager to continue pleasing her, you continued travelling down to her collarbone, bringing a slightly hesitant hand up to unbutton the rest of her shirt.

She let you, smirking all the while. As you began to reveal more and more skin, Kiriko helped you out by sitting up straight for just a moment. You let out a frustrated noise as you were forced to stop your movements, sitting up as well to see what she was up to.

The sight of Kiriko taking off her button-up was definitely going to be fantasy fodder for a long time after tonight. She slowly unbuttoned the remainder of her shirt and slipped the garment off, tossing it into a random corner of the lounge. This revealed her lean shoulders and arms, a simple black bra, and a toned, toned, stomach. By no means was Kiriko buff, but she was definitely fit.

Kiriko quickly noticed your staring, bringing her hands back to your hips.

“Like what you see?”

Despite the deep blush blossoming on your face, you were shameless. Breathlessly, you murmured back, “Yeah, I do.” You paused to keep admiring her body, lewdly wondering how it would feel to have her towering over you.

“Take off your shirt for me.” A sudden command. You looked back up to find her staring right at you, hunger lacing her expression. You honestly struggled to respond right away. But there was nothing to be said, based on the look on her face. She wasn’t asking.

You did as she requested, crossing your arms over your head and pulling your top off. You tossed it in the same direction Kiriko had tossed hers, and when you looked back at her, you knew what she wanted next, her smirk making it painfully obvious. You took off your bra quickly, undoing the clasp with ease and letting it fall onto Kiriko’s lap. Kiriko watched it fall, deciding to throw it elsewhere herself this time, before taking in every inch of your now-half-naked form. Very, very slowly.

“So pretty,” she murmured affectionately, her hands caressing your sides, “such a pretty girl.”

You shivered, your head falling forward little ways as a shaky sigh fell from you. Eagerly, you let your eyes slowly fall closed, your body tingling with each little touch Kiriko made upon your sensitive body.

You knew, based on the hungry look in her eyes and the gentleness of her touch, that Kiriko was going to take very good care of you.

#overwatch #overwatch smut #overwatch headcanons #kiriko kamori #kiriko #kiriko x reader

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towerbetweenworlds · 11 months ago

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Before Sannan had a route, my heart went to Hijikata. I still think the latter has the most interesting and complete of routes (not only is he the "canonical" in anime, he outlives many of the other Shinsengumi in history, being alive all the way up to the end of the Boshin War.)

Conversely, Sannan, or Yamagami Keisuke, is the first of the Shinsengumi core members to die in history. He's also considered to be among the most principled of the lot, if a little uptight compared to the rural stock most of the other members come from.

(As an aside: I have an interest in feudal Japanese history that goes beyond my love for Hakuouki, my primary interest being in the Sengoku or Warring States period. But I do credit the otome game for getting me truly interested in the period between the Black Ships / Commodore Perry's arrival and the start of the Meiji Restoration. So my fansploding over Sannan will definitely be interspersed with thoughts of the historic events, people, and places Hakuoki is based on.)

My knowledge of the historical Sannan is why I always side-eyed at the idea that he's just a purely evil and unlikable character in the game. I know it can depend a LOT on the route you play, but...

[I guess it is spoiler time now, specifically for Sannan and Heisuke routes]

...pretty much every character in the game has at least *some* basis in known history, albeit highly romanticized (duh). So it makes way more sense to me for Sannan's cold, calculating, and ruthless attitude to be only one part of his truth, and for his deep love and loyalty to the Shinsengumi (and Chizuru!!) to feature strongly in his motivations under the surface.

I also love that while he's terribly antagonistic in Heisuke's route, he actually subverts this in his own route by *pretending* to kill him to sell his strategy to get closer to Yukimura Kodo.

I won't entirely absolve Sannan because he does do some abjectly awful things, even in his route. Honestly, that's true of the historical Shinsengumi as a whole, which is why their reputation can range from the villainous (see: Rurouni Kenshin, minus Harada of course--he's a good boy in all media afaik) to the heroic but ultimately tragic (see: the NHK Shinsengumi! taiga drama, which generally paints them in a positive light, but does not shy from portraying when their members make questionable decisions.) I get why he thought he had to keep Chizuru in the dark about his plans, but I do think he could have trusted her more to hold up her end of things if they worked together.

Honestly, I think Sannan's depression (as someone quite familiar with that particular psychological condition, I can say with confidence he definitely suffered it, especially when triggered by feeling worthless) makes it hard for him to accept that someone could love him enough to follow him boldly into his schemes while trusting he will not fall completely. The game makes it clear that Chizuru's love is a deciding factor when it comes to him taking a less heinous path toward finding a true purpose in life. She ensures his despair and desperation do not swallow him whole, both due to the chance for redemption she represents for him, and because her blood makes it possible for him to do more for longer without losing his sanity to the Ochimizu.

On the other hand, the dark, twisted side of him that leads him to decide that forcing a kiss on Sen to turn her into a demon rasetsu is a good idea (for example) is still part of who he is. That is something much harder to accept. He can be deliberately cruel, if only to keep people at arms length so he can keep wallowing in his pain, and he can be terrible at considering the human factor in the schemes within schemes he plots. At his worst, he discards emotions and morality as a hindrance to his goals, and that's just not a good way to handle things. He should not be given a free pass to be abusive, no matter if it is due to his fragile self-esteem, his fear of letting people too close, or his tendency to hyperfocus on the endgame.

I think all of us have the potential to rise or fall depending on our circumstances--our genetics, where we were born, how our parents/guardians raised us, important people in our lives, life-altering events that befall us. As a multiply marginalized person, I drew the short straw in many ways, but I am extremely fortunate to have a supportive spouse who knows me like no one else, whom I can trust with my life. Genuine love from a worthy life partner can truly be transformative if you are fortunate to find it. It's not the only way to reach a state of greater happiness and stability, but it is *A* way, and I choose to believe it works wonderfully for Sannan and Chizuru.

Maybe it's cliche to say he just needs love. Haha. But he definitely needs help avoiding the pitfall of devaluing himself and others so much that the kinder, gentler parts of his nature are smothered.

#hakuouki #sannan keisuke #shinsengumi #edo period #feudal japan #otome #hakumyu #yamanami keisuke #山南敬助 #depression

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lenaperseveranceoxton · 1 year ago

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It's been a while since I've posted any sort of character analysis, and I'm bored, so... here we are! I was mildly inspired by this post, but I've had the following on my mind especially since this video came up in my YouTube recommendations a while back.

Can we talk about how STUPID the chronal accelerator is? I hope that the Overwatch Declassified book sheds some more light on it, but I don't think the narrative teams across the franchise's lifespan ever really put much thought into it.

In Reflections, Lena wears her chronal accelerator out by zipping all over King's Row.

Notice how there's still a slight blue glow. So, does it have enough power to keep Lena anchored in time but not enough to let her control her "own personal timeline"? I honestly don't mind that as an aspect/caveat to the chronal accelerator. I promise I'll get back to this point.

In Alive, Lena uses her chronal accelerator to recall JUST before the bullet that killed Mondatta hit her.

One could argue that she anticipated Widowmaker's shot and got lucky. Still, this scene is set in slow motion. Is it purely to make it more dramatic, or does Lena perceive everything around her to be slower as she controls her own personal timeline? I think the latter would make her more interesting as a character, because it would mean that she had more than a split second to decide to dodge the bullet, only adding to her survivor's guilt.

Okay, deep breaths. We're treading into what I would argue are the most annoying portrayals of the chronal accelerator.

I'll get the first bit out of the way: London Calling has a lot wrong with it as a story. I've given my complaints on this blog before, but I'll give a recap. No offense to Mariko Tamaki, but her experience of writing for Marvel and DC comics is apparent. They tried to lean into the superhero aspect of "Tracer", and it misconstrues Lena as a character here and there.

As for the chronal accelerator, it starts electrocuting Lena after Widowmaker slams her into a wall at the end of Alive. After Lady's funeral, Lizzy follows Lena home and sees her being electrocuted half-to-death on the sidewalk, and they use parts sent by the one and only S. Paceape to repair it. Lena doesn't hear Winston's warning that the fix is temporary, and she blinks all the way to Iggy with no hiccups. Then, as she snatches Iggy from Kace, she says "Just need the chronal accelerator to hang in there for... got ya!" and it suddenly starts electrocuting her again. Obvious inconsistency there, as Lena shouldn't have known the chronal accelerator was about to electrocute her when it was most convenient for the plot, but why are THESE parts from Winston temporary? She gets them right after Mondatta's assassination, and she doesn't get electrocuted before then. She speaks about Winston as if they're not in regular contact, and Winston simply mails her parts on occasion.

Why did Babs Tarr draw her like this? Why is it that these parts are suddenly temporary? Winston would know that Lena uses her chronal accelerator REGULARLY. She prefers to use it over taking the tube, for example. All of a sudden, his parts can't handle a short walk to the Underworld? The writing did BOTH of them dirty in this comic. I can't lie.

Now, onto the thing that frustrates me the most: the Doomfist Origin Story. Remember my point about it being interesting concept for Lena to be able to slow down her perception of time? I feel like, with this origin story, they focused so much on portraying Akande as the cold and calculated warrior that he is that they made Tracer look ESPECIALLY inept.

It would've made more sense for Akande to study the fighting patterns of Genji. He very clearly dislikes Asa Yamagami in that one OW2 interaction he has with Genji. Surely, a light bulb would've gone off like "Ah, this cybernetic ninja fights quite like a student of Asa Yamagami. I might be able to predict his next move."

Time to bring this essay full circle! Remember my point about Reflections kind of implying an interesting concept of the chronal accelerator having just enough power to keep Lena anchored but not enough for her to control her own timeline?

Rewatch the Doomfist Origin Story. Seriously, look at how much Lena is blinking here. I think it would've been more fitting for Lena's character if her overconfidence led to her burning her chronal accelerator out and leaving her defenseless, frozen like a deer in headlights. It would also fit Akande's character, as he would know that Lena would eventually tire herself out (maybe not to the extent of her life support device giving up on her, but my point stills stands). Akande would still be able to destroy Lena's chronal accelerator, presuming that it would take her out of the fight for good, and the plot would move on the same way.

Now, I don't know how to end this, so I'm just going to say that Lena "Tracer" Oxton is my original character. I'm taking her from Blizzard's grasp. No one understands her like I do. 😔

#overwatch #overwatch 1 #tracer #lena oxton #tekhartha mondatta #widowmaker #amélie lacroix #lady #lizzy #winston #iggy #kace #doomfist #akande ogundimu #genji shimada #asa yamagami

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jagermeistermax · 6 months ago

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… and that settles it. I am never coming to school again. I’ll just have to hide at my house forever and pray Light Yamagami protects me.

-Richie 📷

You can't get away from me, you know I'll get to you. I'm gonna get you, stinklord.

#nerdy prudes must die #hatchetfield #max jagerman #starkid #ask blog #roleplay account #rp account #ask me anything #richie lipschitz

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repairingtomorrow · 1 year ago

Text

Kiriko Yamagami (Origin Story)

To Master List

Centuries ago, when the dragon brothers walked the earth, war engulfed Japan and they needed a messenger. They called upon a legendary warrior and healer from Kanezaka, and gifted her with a fox companion to help. Her name was lost to time, but her actions were legendary. Near the end of the war, she and her companion were discovered and gravely wounded. In an attempt to save their lives, the Dragon of the North Wind had used one of his scales to save the both of them. They lived on, and continued their service to the brothers until their natural deaths. But the story did not end there. The scale connected them to the Shimada bloodline, but they could not host them. So, a Tetsuzan Shrine was built to honor the duo, and a miko was assigned to house the kami and perform the same tasks she did ages ago.

My grandmother was the last miko before me, and I was about to become the next one to house the kami.

It was the the day of the ceremony. My nerves were high and I wrung my hands to keep them from shaking. Hanzo and Grammy were putting a shroud around me: He noticed my apprehension and squeezed my shoulder. "You'll be okay, Kiriko. I know it's not exactly the same, but I was nervous when I was getting my dragons." "I suppose, but your dragons are still you. This isn't me, it's someone or something else." I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. Grammy smiled at me. "I felt the same, dear, but the kami became a lifelong friend to me. She will be the same to you." She said, and the two of them put a freezing cold blanket around me.

After a few agonizingly cold minutes, the three of us left the room to the main hall of the shrine. Genji was sitting with his father and Kasumi, one of the elders' daughters. They were distant cousins, but we were all good friends. She gave me a small nod and a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back a bit. Genji seemed uncomfortable, and his father irritated. I ignored it, since it wasn't my current concern. Grammy showed me and Hanzo where to kneel, and I followed her instructions. She knelt across from me, rang the summoning bell, then she gave it to me.

Grandmother started to chant, and I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, and started meditating: I needed to 'open my heart' to the kami. I thought about my future, how I'm going to serve my city like my grandmothers before me. My heart began to race despite my shivering. I joined in her chanting, feeling comfortable enough to do so. I opened my eyes and peered through my shroud. We locked eyes: Grammy's eyes were glowing a blue-green color, and the same colored energy flowed around her. It began to surround me, and it felt like a cold rush of water. I couldn't tell if it's because of the chill going through me, or if it was the power of the kami. Instinctively, I rung the summoning bell and the energy rushed from my grandmother to me. Then, everything went black.

I opened up my eyes, and I was still kneeling in the shrine. Everyone was gone, and the lighting seemed different. I looked around when I noticed a woman standing by the entrance of the shrine. She had long black hair, and was wearing an elegantly designed yukata. "You're...her." I was in awe. I've heard so much about her, and to finally meet her was crazy. She looked over her shoulder at me. "It's good to finally meet you, Kiriko. I've heard so much about you." The spirit didn't sound too happy, but I'd imagine being around for centuries like this is not all that fun. "I could say the same thing about you." I chuckled awkwardly, walking closer. She had this 'don't touch or get close to me' kind of energy, but we are stuck with each other.

The kami chuckled, and I stood next to her. "It will be refreshing to be in a younger body. I apologize if that sounds strange." I nervously laughed. "It's fine, all of this will just take some getting used to." "Agreed, I promise I won't intrude too much. I keep to myself." That did reassure me a bit. It didn't dispel all my worries, but I'll have to get used to it. "Perhaps we can work together. The Hashimotos are a blight to innocent people, and the Shimadas are not much better." What did she mean by that? Sojiro has been kind to me and the people in our cities. "I don't believe you. The Shimadas have protected us for centuries." I spat, glaring at her. The kami didn't react. "Yes, they have. But in more recent decades, they have become as bad as the people they claim to fight. They were good people ages ago. You'll see in time, I suppose." She waved her hand dismissively, and everything went dark.

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up in my bed. I had a heated blanket on me, and I was sweating from it. Hanzo was in my room, looking out a window. "Good to see you awake." He said, glancing over to me. I just stared at him--at the tattoo on his left arm specifically. I grabbed his arm, rolled up the sleeve and examined it: it had a soft light blue glow to it, energy flowing through the markings. He pulled his arm away. "I guess the ritual worked." He said, putting his sleeve down. "Sorry, I just noticed something...different about it." "How do you feel now? Since you seem to have merged with the spirit." He asked. I looked at my hands, still thinking about what she said. How could people like Hanzo, Kasumi, or even Genji be evil as she claims to be? I look over at him, as he waited for an answer. "I feel fine. Things will take some getting used to, though." He nodded. "I felt the same when I got my dragons."

"Hanzo, do you like your family?" I asked him after a few minutes of silence. He grew pale at the question, then cleared his throat and regained his composure. "What do you mean?" I shrugged. "How about this, then. Do you love your father and brother?" He was deep in thought for a while. "Of course. I love them both with all I have." Hanzo didn't really sound sincere, but I didn't want to push it. "Do you think the rest of your family is evil?" He looked at me, confused. "Where is this coming from, Kiriko?" "I-I don't know. The kami said some things that made me question...a lot of stuff." Hanzo sighed and sat next to me. "The kami has been working with our family for centuries. She would've said something by now if she was unhappy." I opened my mouth to speak when I heard her voice. Hm, he acts as if I have a choice. The Shimadas need me as much as I need you. I froze. Hanzo didn't pay attention to me as he got up to leave. "I should let you rest. Let you get used to things." He whispered, walking out of my room.

I've thought about what the spirit said for a long time. Three years later, I've gotten used to the kami's presence but she didn't want to say more on the topic of the Shimadas all that time. But everything started to go wrong very quickly. Sojiro was assassinated by a Hashimoto sniper, and they tried to kill Genji too; They only hit his right shoulder though. I was walking through the private infirmary the Shimadas had, worrying far too much about everything. Lost in my thoughts, I bumped into someone in the hallway. "Oh! I'm sorry!" I shouted, stopping and turning to the man. "Don't worry 'bout it, miss." He replied and looked over his shoulder at me as he kept walking: He had an accent that definitely wasn't from around here. I paused for a moment, then I walked into Genji's room.

Genji was sitting up on the bed, staring out the window deep in thought. I tapped on the doorway, and he gestured for me to come in. "Hi, Sparrow. How are you feeling?" I walked over to him, combing my thumb over the ofuda in my hands. "I've been better...and also worse." He replied, sounding rather out of it. "Who was that walking out of your room? I bumped into him, and he said sorry with a rather interesting accent." Genji let out a dry chuckle. "He's...a friend of mine, a tourist from America. He was just coming by to see how I was doing." I nodded, staring at his bandaged shoulder. He avoided looking at me, like he was hiding something. "What's going on, Genji? You know you can talk to me, I'm good at keeping secrets. It's kind of my job." I told him, touching my fingers to his shoulder. He flinched and moved his shoulder away, which made him wince from the pain.

"It's nothing to concern yourself about, Kiri. It's my business, not yours." I couldn't help but feel hurt at what he said. There was a time not too long ago where we could talk about anything. "Is it about Sojiro? I know you where there--" "Just drop it, Kiriko." He snapped, glaring. I stared into his gray, green-flecked eyes. After a few heartbeats, he turned away from me again. I grabbed the ofuda and forcefully pressed it to his shoulder without warning. He let out a hiss and he swore at me. "Was that necessary?!" He growled. I gave him a dismissive hand wave. "Don't make the healer angry if you want nice treatment." I joked, watching the ofuda disappear into his shoulder with a soft yellow light. He let out a quiet sigh, his pain presumably lessening. "...Thank you." Genji muttered. He still looked tense, but there was nothing I could do if he didn't want to talk to me. So, I got up and left, but I stopped at the door. "You can talk to me anytime you want to, Sparrow. I hope you know that."

That was the last time I spoke to him. He wasn't at his father's funeral a few weeks later--I should've pushed him to talk to me back in that infirmary. The Hashimotos finished what they started: They broke into the Shimada compound and killed him. After Genji died, Hanzo left Hanamura and abandoned us. The Shimada elders struggled without their leader, and after a year, they collapsed and disbanded. We were all thrown to the mercy of the tigers.

But it's not the time to be living in regret anymore. The Hashimotos only keep increasing the stranglehold they have on our city, and we're sick of it. I've formed the Yōkai, and we started a war on them; even Kasumi and her gang joined in. Every time they fight, we fight back: Everything they take, we take back.

Sooner or later, they will all know that Kanezaka is under our protection.

(Thank you for reading if you made it this far! Unfortunately, I've realized the reality of the situation of Kiriko's abilities and decided to make them magic, same thing with the brothers. Even before Kiriko, the dragon magic never really seemed to make sense and I'm not buying the "it's not magic" bullshit, either give an explanation or admit you can't make it operate without magic. Sorry for the mini rant, just wanted to explain some things.)

#overwatch #kiriko yamagami #kiriko #my overwatch rewrite #hanzo shimada #genji shimada #i swear this is not an excuse to write for genji again #also there's technically an oc here too

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