#natto answers

[natto-axolotl]

18 19 25 choose violence ...

HI DEV YOU PUT NO FANDOM BUT I WILL DO ONE FOR LIMBUS COMPANY

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

i don't really feel much about any pairing in limbus and saying this gets slept on feels false but rodigor. i feel like not as many people like it as they do meurgreg/honggreg/ryodon/faustdon/rodimael but i really really like their dynamic and the ways in which they contrast with each other. guy who hates himself x girl who thinks she's the hottest shit ever. underrated honestly. also ao3 user mayoipia's writing about ishmadon is fucking top notch and it burrows so so so deeply into my brain i still need to draw smth about their band au fic. as for characters/nonromantic dynamics i think ryoshu should be explored more outside of the funny murder acronym woman, and ryoshu and greg friendship is very fun and compelling to me.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

a lot of times i don't really see the rationale behind pairings outside of the ones i like but meurgreg stuck bc of twt user I_LOVE_ROLAND. also i don't see most outis ships because to me outis's hyperturbo divorced/messy marriage aura negates her old hag yuri energy but faustis is fun to think about. really there's nothing that's a big guilty pleasure for me (other than like. super sad/tender/angsty verdante. wait that counts lol yeah verdante is a guilty pleasure of mine)

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

i hear people whinge about balancing and difficulty a lot in this game and usually I'm super into that bc i love reading up on game metas but with limbus i have a very "play and let play" attitude because to me limbus is a VN first and game second. rn the game's too RNG dependent/powercreep heavy for me to enjoy the meta and most problems have glaringly straightforward solutions that feel unfun when use and miserable when not.

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

R O U N D 6

[Special thanks to Natto for graciously allowing me to use their incredible artworks. Please support their amazing work by following them on Instagram: @yattapan. Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you! I hope you enjoy this!]

The stage was dimly lit, the harsh spotlight casting long shadows across the stage. The crowd’s noise had faded into a low hum, like a distant storm that threatened to break at any moment. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, but Aventurine was numb to it all. His usual flamboyance, his mischievous grin, and the gleam in his eyes—those were gone. The man standing on the stage now was a shell of what he had been, his once vibrant persona buried under the weight of exhaustion and sorrow.

Aventurine stood center stage, his posture slumped, a stark contrast to the usual calculated, confident air he used to project. His hand gripped the microphone, but his fingers were tight around it, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. He was clad in black clothing, an ensemble that matched the dark emptiness swirling inside him. His eyes, once sharp and calculating, were now hollow, distant, staring at nothing in particular.

‘Where are you, [Name]?’ He thought, the weight of their absence like a heavy stone pressing down on his chest. ‘Why did you have to leave me?’

The music began to swell, but it didn’t stir him the way it once did. His voice, when it finally came, was quiet at first—a murmur lost in the sea of noise. But as the lyrics flowed from his lips, they carried an emotional depth that seemed to shake even the hardened audience.

“Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don’t want to let you go”

Each note was a whisper of his heart’s agony. There was no passion, no fire behind the words anymore—just the emptiness of a man who had lost everything. The song was no longer a performance; it was a cry. His voice cracked once, but he pushed through, forcing the words out even though they felt like daggers scraping the inside of his throat.

The lights above him flickered, casting shifting shadows across the stage. But the audience—those cruel, apathetic spectators—didn’t care. They watched with eager, unblinking eyes, but Aventurine saw nothing but their hollow faces, staring like vultures at something already dead. He was dying inside. His soul was withering.

Aventurine’s voice faltered as the lyrics continued to pour out of him, desperate, raw, as though he was trying to will himself to feel something—anything.

“Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you”

His voice trembled on the final note, but he didn’t stop. Instead, it grew more intense, a plea laced with anguish, his throat raw from the pain of each word. The crowd’s cheers seemed distant, unimportant. As the words left his mouth, his mind spiraled, and everything around him began to blur.

The sounds of the audience faded, and Aventurine found himself no longer on the stage, but in a cold, sterile room—distant, isolating, suffocating. The memory hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was standing in front of a long table, a group of faceless figures dressed in dark suits sitting behind it. Their expressions were unreadable, but the weight of their gaze was heavy. They were the ###—the ones who had brought him into this sick game. They were the ones holding his life by a string, dictating the terms of his survival. The same ones who had made him promise everything—his soul, his loyalty—if he won.

Aventurine’s hands were shackled to the chair in front of him, his body tense, awaiting whatever came next. His heart raced as they pushed him, trying to force an answer from him about the deal—questions he didn’t have answers to. His mind was scattered, chaotic, filled with one burning question: Where is [Name]?

One of the figures slammed a file onto the table in front of him. It was a newspaper clipping, and at the top in bold letters, the word “ＭＩＳＳＩＮＧ” was stamped across [Name]’s profile. His heart dropped, and his stomach twisted into knots.

His pulse pounded In his ears as he stared at the image. There they were, the one person he had trusted, the only one who had shown him true kindness, now lost.

Aventurine’s vision blurred. He had no idea where they were. Had they died? Had they left him behind, abandoned him so easily after everything they had been through? The questions gnawed at him, but none of them brought any answers. Only emptiness.

‘Did I mean nothing to them?’

The words felt like chains, tighter with every thought, as though the walls around him were closing in, suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced to try to piece together the puzzle, but the more he thought, the more frantic he became.

Suddenly, one of the figures—too close, too invasive—grabbed the back of his head, forcing him down toward the table. His face scraped the cold surface as the pressure of the hands on his hair grew.

Aventurine’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the newspaper clipping slide closer to his face. He couldn’t get away from it. He couldn’t escape the sight of [Name]’s profile—lost, missing, slipping through his fingers like sand.

The world felt too small. He felt too small.

A flash of white-hot fury ignited within him. His heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat, loud and unyielding. His body moved before his mind could catch up, his fist crashing into the face of the man who had pushed him down. The force of the punch sent the person sprawling backward, momentarily stunned. The clatter of a chair hitting the ground rang in his ears, and the smell of blood filled the air.

The memory shattered, and Aventurine gasped, back on the stage, the spotlight burning his skin. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his pulse erratic, heart racing as if it would burst from his chest. His fist was still raised in the air, knuckles white, as if he had never stopped fighting.

“Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul”

Aventurine continued, his voice trembling with something more than just sorrow—rage, desperation, confusion, all woven together in the melody. His voice cracked again, the strain too much, but he pushed on, clinging to the song as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to his fragile reality.

The audience was silent, watching, waiting for him to fall apart completely, but the man they saw on stage was not the same one who had entered. The flamboyant, carefree strategist was gone. In his place stood someone raw, exposed, and vulnerable—someone who had given too much and lost too much to ever smile again.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

The spotlight shifted, Ratio stepped onto the stage, his presence shifting the air like a cold breeze. He moved with deliberate grace, his white suit gleaming under the stage lights. It was almost too pristine, as if he were stepping into a wedding, an unspoken irony in the starkness of his attire amidst the chaotic tension of the contest. He grabbed the microphone, his fingers brushing it lightly as his gaze drifted toward Aventurine.

Aventurine stood motionless, the hollow look in his eyes betraying the storm within him. He appeared to have given up—like a man who had lost everything, as if the very air around him was a reminder of someone who was gone. His emotions were shut off, the vulnerability once so raw now replaced by an empty stillness.

Ratio took a deep breath before he began to sing, his voice smooth and controlled, though the weight of the lyrics cut through him like a blade. His eyes never left Aventurine, watching as the other man stood frozen in place, his thoughts clearly lost in the past, in someone who was no longer there.

“Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart”

The haunting melody filled the space, but Ratio couldn’t focus on the performance itself. His thoughts were elsewhere, taking him back to memories of the moments they had shared—moments that now seemed as distant as the stars.

The world of the contest, the games that had driven them all to the edge of madness, was one of cruelty and manipulation. But there were moments, fleeting and fragile, where there was kindness—moments where Ratio and Aventurine had found each other amidst the chaos.

Ratio remembered the time just before the show began, when they had shared a quiet conversation backstage. Aventurine had been quiet, more so than usual, as if the weight of the competition had finally broken him. Ratio had tried to reach out to him, to find some way to keep him grounded.

“Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I’ll drown in you”

But even then, Aventurine’s thoughts were clouded with something else—someone else. [Name]. The one who had stolen his heart, the one who had always been there to pull him from the edge when he faltered. Ratio could see it now, that deep ache in Aventurine’s eyes, the unspoken question that had plagued him since the moment they were torn apart.

It was the same unspoken question that Ratio had tried to answer himself when he had found a way out—an escape from this cursed contest. They had nearly made it, nearly freed themselves from the grip of the game, but at the last moment, Aventurine had faltered. He had chosen to leave Ratio behind in the pursuit of [Name], to go back to a place where he could never leave things undone, even if it meant abandoning his only ally.

Under the moonlight, near a secret passage where other contestants had found their way out, Ratio stood watching Aventurine. He could see the resolve in his eyes, but it was torn. He was a man caught between two impossible choices: the friend who had stood by him and the person he couldn’t leave behind, even if it meant his own freedom.

Aventurine had walked back, taking those last few steps toward the uncertainty of the contest, leaving Ratio standing there with a bittersweet smile, knowing that his friend would never truly be free until he could reunite with [Name]. The sting of that moment lingered, the taste of abandonment still fresh, even now.

“Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze where I’m seen

Consume me

Yes, me, oh oh”

Ratio’s voice cracked slightly on the final line, a hint of emotion breaking through his otherwise controlled façade. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of their shared history, the sacrifices they had made for each other, and yet the unbearable truth that some wounds would never heal.

He had seen the toll this contest had taken on his friend, and he knew the battle wasn’t over yet. But in that moment, Ratio understood. Aventurine couldn’t leave [Name] behind, not now, not after everything they had been through together.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

“To this everlasting melody”

Meanwhile, Ratio’s voice blended with his, but his attention was no longer on the performance. His eyes drifted toward Aventurine, watching him with a depth of feeling that he couldn’t articulate. He saw his friend’s weariness, the faintest hints of defeat in his posture, and his heart ached for him.

“Face to face we dance”

But then, Ratio’s attention snapped back to the stage as he realized something. Aventurine had stopped singing.

The silence in the air was sharp, thick with tension. He could hear the low hum of the audience, the murmur of uncertainty spreading as Aventurine stood frozen. The rules were clear: failure to continue meant disqualification. The moment was slipping away from him.

“With our story

Lost in forever’s embrace

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time.”

Ratio’s mind raced, his thoughts tumbling over one another. This was the moment—the moment he had to make a decision. A doctor of truth, he knew the consequences of his actions, but right now, his only concern was the gambler in front of him. Aventurine would never forgive himself if he failed here, and Ratio couldn’t let him face that.

Without another thought, Ratio dropped his mic onto the stage, the clatter of it fading into the silence. He stepped toward Aventurine, whose eyes were glazed over, unaware of the imminent danger. The weight of his decision pressed on Ratio’s chest, but there was no turning back now.

The rain began to fall, soft at first, then heavier, as if the world itself mourned the coming sacrifice. The droplets cascaded around them, a curtain of water, but all Ratio could see was his friend.

Aventurine lifted his gaze slowly, meeting Ratio’s eyes with an expression that was too tired, too distant, to fully comprehend why Ratio was standing so close now.

Ratio’s steps were steady as he reached Aventurine, his hand moving to gently cup his friend’s neck. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper against the damp air.

“Take care of yourself, Gambler. Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before Aventurine could react, before he could even respond, Ratio’s grip tightened. His fingers dug into Aventurine’s neck—not with the intent to choke him, but to send him into unconsciousness. To ensure he wouldn’t see what Ratio was about to do, the sacrifice he was making.

But to the audience, it was a different story.

The moment Ratio’s hands moved, the security team took action, weapons raised. They had been watching, ready to intervene. Violence was strictly prohibited, and it was clear that Ratio had broken the rules. He would be executed for this.

Still, Ratio didn’t flinch. He didn’t fight. The shots came fast, the sound of gunfire cutting through the tense silence. His body jerked with each bullet that struck him, but it wasn’t until the fatal shot, aimed at a vital artery, that he stumbled, blood pouring from his mouth. His vision blurred, but he managed to glance up at the screen.

Aventurine’s scores were climbing. The crowd roared, oblivious to the price Ratio had paid for it.

His eyes locked with Aventurine’s one final time, and Ratio smiled—bitter, resigned, but sincere. The world seemed to slow as he released his hold on Aventurine’s neck, letting his friend slip from his grasp.

Ratio crumpled to the ground, lifeless, blood staining the stage beneath him. His body became a dark pool of crimson, the contrast to Aventurine’s still form standing in disbelief.

The music beat dropped, filling the space, but it felt like the entire world had stilled, as if the stage itself was mourning the loss.

Aventurine stood frozen, staring down at Ratio’s body, his fingers pressing against his neck in disbelief. His mind couldn’t process it—their shared history, the bond they had formed, had been shattered in a moment. Ratio was gone.

The black-and-white contrast between them was undeniable. Ratio’s pure white suit now stained with the blood that had once belonged to him. Aventurine’s own darkness, his own guilt and despair, a stark reflection of the sacrifice Ratio had made for him.

The stage, the contest, the audience—they all blurred away in that moment. There was nothing left but the realization that everything had changed.

But little did anyone know, amidst the chaos and the tragedy that had unfolded on that stage, [Name] was still alive and was back now.

They had made it, against all odds, and now they stood just outside the chaotic scene, their eyes fixed on the aftermath of the deadly contest. The silence hung in the air, but [Name] could feel the weight of the moment—the deaths, the sacrifices, the choices made in the name of survival.

They were here to rescue their friends, to end this madness once and for all. But unlike before, [Name] wasn’t alone this time. They had a new group with them, a new force, even if it came with complications. The Stellaron Hunters—each one with their own agenda, their own reasons for standing in the shadows—were now part of their cause.

With the Stellaron Hunters behind them, and their newfound strength, [Name] stepped forward into the fray. The world ahead of them was uncertain, but they would make sure it was their future, not the one dictated by fate or fear.

It was time to rewrite the story.

(@thijikoy on X/Twitter)

Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you!

[Navigation]

[sugoi-and-spice]

Konbini Crush

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

Rating: G - Minors still DNI though

CW: Nothin. Just pure sickeningly sweet fluff. :)

She was pretty sure that the cute guy she often ran into at the convenience store had a girlfriend. 

Maybe it was the kind, committal energy he gave off, or the fact that he often seemed to be talking to someone named Rika on what she assumed was his bluetooth, or maybe it was even just her own pessimism. Enough years in the throes of capitalism and the dating scene having brought the truth to her eyes that that no guy this sweet could ever be single. 

Whatever the reason was, it was a tragedy of course. He was cute as a button and absolutely her type. But maybe in retrospect, it had been a blessing in disguise. After all, the fact that he “had a girlfriend” meant that she had no chance with him. And that gave her no inhibitions from talking to him.

He was a gloomy-seeming guy at first, but when she finally worked up the courage to speak to him — asking him if the salted cabbage bento he always bought was any good — he instantly lit up.

“Oh yeah! Really good.”

She learned that same day that his name was Yuta Okkotsu. 

The next time she saw him, she learned that he was on his school’s kendo team. Although, it was a little weird the way he reacted when she asked about it.

“That’s why you carry that practice sword, right?” she asked, “You’re just coming off from practice?”

“O-Of course!” he answered with a nervous laugh, “It’s a practice sword…”

Yes, the awkward almost-surprise he gave her was a little odd, but also he was just a little odd. Everything about him held a sort of bashful energy, and yet strangely enough, not an anxious one. He held himself with a lot of confidence, a comfort in himself and his skin that was really rare these days. But not in a boastful way by any means. He seemed like a former wallflower that had truly bloomed.

Ugh, she knew that she shouldn’t have been hyperfixating on him this way. He had a girlfriend afterall. And yet still, when 6pm rolled around, she found herself taking a little extra time at the onigiri shelf, waiting to hear that gentle lilt that always made her heart skip a beat, waiting for—

“Good evening.”

She turned to Yuta with a tired, yet giddy smile, “Good evening.”

He took his spot next to her, looking through the refrigerated bentos and natto just next to the onigiri.

“How was practice?” she asked.

“Oh you know, same old, same old,” he answered, pausing his browsing so he could look her right in the eye, “How about you? How was work?”

“Nothing special, burnt my hand a little on the grill,” she answered, showing off her bandaged palm, “Boss yelled at me for doing it in front of customers. Same old, same old.”

Yuta was instantly concerned, “Oh no, are you alright?”

“Meh,” she shrugged, “It hurts a bit still, but I’ll live.”

He reached for her hand and then paused, looking at her for permission, “May I?”

She blushed a little at that, “Oh! Uh, s-sure…”

Yuta proceeded, taking her hand into his own. He ran his thumbs along the length of her bandages, applying just the slightest pressure. He was gentle with her, just like he seemed to be with everything. She found herself getting lost in that touch, in the idea of what it would be like to feel that sort of gentleness everywhere else…

“Alright, how’s that feel?”

She blinked out of her thoughts and looked back down to her hand, processing just how it felt. And to her shock, the stinging had actually gone away.

“W-Woah!” she said, holding her hand up to her face, “It feels great! What are you, a sorcerer or something?!”

Yuta laughed, waving her off, “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just a circulatory massage. Helps with the pain.”

“I’ll say,” she said in disbelief, waving her hand back and forth freely.

“You should still keep the bandage on for a couple of days though, to let it heal.”

“Will do, will do. Thank you,” she smiled, still completely engrossed in the painlessness of her hand, “This birthday isn’t totally shit after all.”

“Today’s your birthday?”

She froze. Shit, did she say that out loud? Her face turned bright red at the realization. God, she must’ve felt like she was totally fishing for a compliment or “happy birthday” or something now! She couldn’t be more embarrassed.

“Yeah, ‘fraid so,” she finally answered, trying to play it cool as the picked up a spicy tuna onigiri, looking over the ingredients on the back.

“And you’re spending it buying food from the konbini?!”

Okay, he seemed genuinely shocked and a little upset by that (what a sweetheart), so maybe he didn’t think she was totally weird for bringing this up out of nowhere.

“Living the dream, I know,” she chuckled.

Yuta shook his head and tutted, “No, no — I don’t think so.” He grabbed the onigiri out of her hand and placed it back on the shelf.

“Hey— My dinner!” she whined.

“We can do better than this. What do you say to some sushi?”

She blinked, genuinely surprised, “S… Sushi?”

Yuta rubbed the back of his head, an embarrassed little blush spreading on his cheeks, “Well, it’ll be conveyor belt, but I know a really good place if that’s okay with you.”

He clocked her awestruck expression and immediately panicked a little.

“Oh no, that was way too forward wasn’t it?” he looked down, a nervous muttering she’d never seen from him taking over, but maybe one that he’d lived with for a long time before, “Of course you don’t wanna spend your birthday with a total stranger…”

She finally was able to catch up to all this and realize just what he was saying.

“N-No, it’s not that!” she insisted, “I’d love to get dinner with you. It’s just…”

He tilted his head curiously.

“What about Rika?”

Yuta’s eyes widened a little, “Rika?”

“She’s your girlfriend right? I hear you talking about her or to her on the phone a lot,” she paused, alarming as she realized just how that sounded, “N-Not that I’m eavesdropping on you or anything!! I-I just overheard and well, ah crap…”

Yuta’s expression steadily softened through her babbling as he realized just what she was talking about, what she did and didn’t know about Rika. He smiled as he processed just how worried she’d been, and what exactly she’d been worried about.

God, was she cute.

“Don’t worry about the eavesdropping thing, I didn’t take it that way.”

She sighed, relieved.

“And don’t worry about Rika, either. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No?” she lit up.

Yuta shook his head, “No. We’re close but she’s… Well she’s my sister, basically.”

She cocked a brow at him, “Basically?”

He laughed a little awkwardly, “It’s uh, it’s a little complicated. But really, you have nothing to worry about. I’m perfectly and pathetically single.”

If she were being honest with herself, that sounded totally like a red flag. A girl that was like a sister to him? That had cheater, cheater pumpkin eater written all over it. And yet, there was something about his demeanor, the look in his eyes and the way he said it, that felt genuine. That made her inclined to believe him.

And for a sushi dinner with the cute konbini guy she’d been pining over for weeks, that was good enough for her.

She grinned in a way that had Yuta’s blush returning full force.

“Lucky me.”

[unwrathful]

u think u know someone and then u find out they hate natto. what is wrong w u people

"hates natto" hayato suo you are my sworn enemy

[keouil]

all the shapes my bones answer to

"what do you mean you all went to okinawa without me?" shoko seethes. nanami already regrets coming down for breakfast. 12k. sashisu + tokyo five. okinawa!au. also on ao3.

You will fall in love with your friends.  You will create a second family with them,  a kind of tribe that makes you feel less vulnerable.  Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time.  Sometimes we’re born into families,  who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends.  They can love you all the time, without judgement.

RYAN O'CONNELL

We'll dream of a longer summer but this is the one we have: I lay my sunburnt hand on your table: this is the time we have.

ADRIENNE RICH

沖

"What do you mean you all went to Okinawa without me?" Shoko seethes.

Nanami pauses near the landing of the stairs, half a leg midway from taking that final step and debating whether it was already too late to turn back. Picture this: it's a sunny Saturday morning, the pale-eye uguisu are early in serenading each other beneath the rustle of the forest, and the smell of fresh bread and coffee is tempting from the hallway. Tempting enough to reconsider the comfort of his bed over the comfort of caffeine in his system because God knows he’s going to need it. All of them miraculously have the day off from killing or making sure they don't kill each other with their schedules so rarely aligning like this. 

Nanami already regrets coming down for breakfast.

He makes the step anyway, bracing himself as he rounds the corner to assess which wrath he was going to be subjected to again today. Gojo was dramatic, Getou had a penchant for self-flagellation, and Shoko was somehow a deadly combination of both: he’d learned all these the hard way.

But instead it's Haibara he sees sitting across from said melodramatic seniors, eyes darting up nervously between all three of them as a half-eaten bagel hung loose from the corner of his mouth. Nanami fixes himself a plate—generous with the bacon, because again, he needs it—before sitting down next to him. He nudges at him to close his mouth all the while trying not to roll his eyes at Gojo’s pathetic attempts at self-preservation at 8 o'clock in the morning.

“We were there for like three days,” insists Gojo, hand on his hips and sweat down his brow despite the AC on full blast. “Max. Promise.”

Lies, Nanami thinks but doesn’t say, enjoying their flailing as he munches on a tomato. They had to rebook their flights twice. Then another one because Gojo didn't like the in-flight meals they offered.

"And it was a last-minute thing," adds Getou, placating. "You can even ask Haibara."

Well shit—

Shoko immediately whirls in on him. Haibara, in turn unprepared, still had his mouth full of natto rice and could only stare dumbly at her before directing a betrayed expression at Getou for ratting him out. "I w’snt—" Haibara starts, half-chewing, half-mumbling. "Idn’dnt—”

"Oh, leave the kid alone," interrupts Gojo, turning to face Shoko on his own. "I did it. I called them. For back-up. For the Star Vessel thing."

Shoko looks up towards the ceiling, breathing slowly through her nose. "And you didn't think to call the medic."

“Yaga said you were busy," defends Gojo, dumb.

"I'm always busy!" Shoko snaps at him. "Never too busy for Okinawa, however!"

"You hate out of town missions," Getou points out, dumber.

Good lord, Nanami thought. They were going to be here all day.

"I don't hate the beach," Shoko crosses her arms, glaring daggers at them both. “I don’t hate Okinawa.”

Did Nanami imagine it, or did they somehow shrink an inch? This was a common enough sight for them, he thinks: Shoko standing her ground, arms crossed, glowering at them for one thing or another. Their staring contests never lasted for an extended period of time to actually mean anything, could never stabilize itself any longer than a few seconds because aside from being pathetic, Gojo and Getou were also incapable of enduring eye contact with a seething Shoko. It's a toss-up between who breaks first.

Evidently, it's Gojo today.

"Alright, fine, okay," he relents, sighing into his shoulders. "...Sorry for excluding you."

Shoko was still eyeing him. "And?"

Gojo blinks, turns to Getou, who also looks just as unsure. Dumb and dumber. "...And?"

Shoko clicks her tongue impatiently. "And."

Getou hits the light bulb moment next. "And sorry for not bringing you back a souvenir?” 

Shoko huffs, finally settling back down the table and rifling through some of Haibara's edamame. “Took you long enough.”

"...We didn't?" Gojo whispers lowly from the corner of his mouth when he sits down next to her, craning his neck backward to get Getou’s attention. “Are you sure?”

Getou settles himself on her other side, also leaning back to cup a hand around his mouth, only to say in an intentionally loud voice that did piss poor of hiding his words, "You ate it all."

Haibara chokes on his food. Nanami stifles a laugh by offering him water.

Shoko stomps Gojo's foot from underneath them. His knee drives up to the table in turn and he curses out loud—shit fuck shit—and is just about to yell at her when she silences him with another glare. 

"That's two," she warns. "I wouldn't get a third."

Nanami decides he doesn't wanna get a third either. He edges his plate of nori closer to her. Shoko shoots him a thankful glance, only to have it sharpen sideways again when Gojo nuzzles closer to her like a pathetic wet puppy.

"So mean," Gojo pouts, rubbing his cheek over her shoulder.

Shoko decides she doesn’t hear or see the leech clamped up all over her arm. “So anyway,” she nods at them. "Did you guys have fun at least?"

Nanami breathes out a collective sigh of relief along with everyone on the table, voices immediately talking over each other.

"Okinawa was amazing—" Getou starts.

"The beach is really something else—" Haibara gushes.

"We even got to choose the crab we—" Nanami piles on.

…Only for all their gushing to be effectively silenced by Shoko shriveling up her juice box in one hand. Gojo winces at the sight. Then she starts to laugh, a tiny one at first, really more of a dry chuckle. "The beach, huh?" She surveys them one by one, a glint in her eye and the devil in her smile. "And crabs, too? Wow. That’s — good. Really good. Just amazing." Then she starts clapping, Gojo becomes very still, and Getou thinks maybe staring down the barrel of a gun would feel less anxiety-inducing than predicting Shoko's erratic mood swings. "That's just so nice. I’m so happy for you guys. I really am. Nice tan, Nanami."

Nanami gulps, unused to being the center of attention much less her temper. From his peripheral, he sees Getou shake his head imperceptibly, the infinite turn of a head both ways that tells him not to do or say anything in return for his own good.

"And Haibara-kun, too," Shoko adds gleefully, gesturing at his chest. "Nice seashell necklace."

Nanami wants to groan into his hands. If Haibara just listened to him and threw out that absolutely atrocious piece of child's craft he called jewelry—

"Cool cool cool," Shoko finishes, looking at them sweetly, the same saccharine smile plastered all over her face. "And what was I doing, you ask, while you were all getting tanned by the beach and swimming with the dolphins?"

Gojo lifts his head a little. "We didn't swi—"

Getou smacks his head from behind. "Shut up."

"...right here, in miserable raining Tokyo," Shoko continues, ignoring them, breaking off a piece of croissant Nanami traveled all the way to downtown Harajuku to get yesterday. She finishes it one bite and he has to bite back a mewl. "Cleaning up all the curses you brought my way the week before. Embalming. Filing autopsy reports. Excavating organs."

Haibara swallows. "A-And we thank you for it, I-Ieiri-san."

Shoko quirks a brow. Nanami sees Getou's hand flex in preparation for something, Gojo still just pathetically weeping into her shoulder for forgiveness. "You're thanking me for doing my job?"

Oh god, Nanami thinks. Haibara is going to die early.

Nanami knocks Haibara’s knee from under the table, a warning not to answer what was obviously a trick question. He sees Getou glaring daggers at him to do the same. But Haibara sometimes was just as clueless with social clues as Gojo was, and so says to his and everyone's absolute demise: "Well someone has to, right?"

Oh god, Nanami thinks. I’m gonna kill him myself.

But Shoko just blinks, then blinks again, her eyes clearing into something surprisingly somber and less the jilted outsider she assumed herself into a few moments ago. She clears her throat once, twice, before leveling both Gojo and Getou a look. "Hear that, boys?" she chides. "A thank you would be nice every once in a while."

Gojo sputters. "We thank you—"

"Sending me a gift basket of transfigured body parts because you think I enjoy mutilating them is not a thank you," she glares down at him, before getting to Getou. "And neither is getting me tickets to see a live organ transplant on a guinea pig.”

Getou is so close to pulling his hair out. “Well,” he starts. "What kind of thank you do you want then?" 

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, thinks Nanami, watching both his seniors so easily fall hook, line, sinker where she was concerned. Because Shoko doesn’t even hesitate when she meets their challenge head on, looking straight into his eyes when she says: 

"Okinawa."

That finally gets Gojo straightening up. “That’s it?” he says. “Easy fix then. Want me to plan everything?”

“We need permission from Yaga-sensei,” reminds Getou. “We can’t just go on another week-long trip so soon after that last tone.”

“We can and we will,” arches Gojo right back, not so subtly jabbing his head at Shoko who grew suspiciously quiet, hand on her chin as she contemplated something. “Listen, I’ll even pay for eve—”

Shoko shoots out a hand to stop him. Gojo shuts up right away. “You know what?” her eyes go over each of them, a lightbulb going off in her head as she smirks, wicked. “I have a better idea.”

𓇼

“Haibara-kun, your ass is in my face.”

“Sorry!”

“Whose knee is in my shoulder?”

“...Mine.”

“Move.”

“I will if Getou would just stop hogging the space.”

“I am not— ”

They hear a crash on the other side of the door.

Gojo blinks. “Did something just—”

Getou hushes him. “Be quiet!”

They all had their ears pressed against the door outside of Yaga's office, listening in on muffled sobs and well-timed wails for the past half hour. Nanami was perched uncomfortably low on the ground, trying to angle his ear to hear better with Gojo’s hands braced against his shoulders for balance. Haibara was crouched down with him, Getou knocking on their backs every so often to get better purchase with the wall.

On the other side, Shoko was putting on a goddamn show and they were hanging on to her every word. They hear the panic in Yaga's voice trying to still her growing rampage and have to bite down their laughs. It's pitiful, really, how fast Yaga caved. Barely five minutes into her hysterical crying his chair was already creaking backward, he was already stammering an apology he didn’t know what for, was already profusely offering the tissue box on his desk no one ever uses because no one ever cries to Yaga of all people. 

Evidently Shoko knew that. 

Evidently she was going to take full advantage of the novelty.

"So mean, sensei!" she wails some more, adding a few strategic sniffles and hiccups here and there. "You’ve always liked the boys better than me!"

"That's—" they hear Yaga start nervously. "That's not true!"

Shoko pulls out the big guns. "I knew it!" she sniffles, wails, hiccups all in rapid succession. "You're just like him! You’re just like my dad! He said he always wanted a boy, too!"

"Oh god," Getou swears under his breath. "Not the daddy issue card."

Gojo clicks his tongue. "Low blow, Shoko. Just downright cruel."

Shoko keeps going. "...And then he—" Hiccup. "He stopped—" Another sniffle. "He stopped hanging out with me because—" She kept going, breaking and stopping, before finally crying out, "Because he said I developed early!"

Now it was Nanami's time to groan. "Jesus Christ," he actually says. "She's not actually going there is she?"

Getou looks down at him. "This is your Ieiri-senpai," he points out. "What do you think?"

Haibara shakes his head. "Bad day to be Yaga-sensei."

"Bad day to be around Shoko's time of the month, period," agrees Gojo, squishing himself closer to the door.

Shoko was still hysterical albeit a little muffled now, with Yaga's patient but so painfully awkward attempts at consolation the only thing they hear aside from her abating sniffles.

"T-There, there," Yaga tries. "I-I'm sure your dad is proud of you, nice guy, him..."

Getou winces. "Oh no, sensei," he says. "You don't side with the man. Ever."

Gojo nods along. "Right, right?" he says. "Even I know that!"

Nanami brings his ear closer just in time to hear Shoko steady herself, presumably after crying some more into the tissue, when she tells Yaga in a suddenly much clearer voice: "Then what will you give me for an apology?"

"Damn," Gojo whistles. "That's our girl." 

They start talking in much lower tones that’s harder to hear from across from the door, and Nanami can only hold his squat for so long before his knee finally gives out, and Gojo leaning his entire weight on him certainly wasn’t helping either—

Then Getou senses the movement first. "Shit," he warns, tugging on the necks of Nanami's and Haibara's uniforms. "She's coming!"

The door opens to Shoko still visibly fake whimpering, slowly nodding along to whatever lingering words of support Yaga was rushing out to say to get her to just stop doing her emotions thing, before she closes it with a soft click but not before promising Yaga she’ll do her best to feel better. When the lock finally clicks in place, her face immediately sharpens into something less sad and more sinister. A grin slowly weaves its way into her face, teeth slipping at the corners and diamonds lighting up her eyes.

Shoko holds up a single plastic rectangle that looks suspiciously like Yaga's black card. "And that boys,” she declares, “is how it's done." 

Nanami can only look dumbly on as Getou heaves her up on his shoulder, with Gojo’s cries of triumph and Shoko’s maniacal laughter following them down the hallway as they make a beeline for the dorms to start packing.

“Damn,” Haibara says next to him, equally starstruck. “That’s our seniors.”

𓇼

The first real problem starts with Gojo and Getou fighting over the window seat.

"But you got it last time," argues Getou, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I ended up standing up the entire time," reminds Gojo, not budging.

"No one asked you to," Getou points out.

“Uh, Amanai, Misato..” Gojo lists off. “The entire Star Vessel Group who literally commissioned us to take care of her?”

Nanami could only look in embarrassment as the two of them, mid-marital spat, effectively blocked the entire aisle and prevented any of the other passengers through. Shoko, in between them, must’ve been done counting to three in her head because in the next second she pushes them both back into the row all the while bowing her head low in apology as she lets the rest of the travelers pass. On the row across from them where Nanami was likewise dragged into, Haibara was doing the same. 

When the rest of them finally filter through, Shoko swivels on her heel to glare at them both.

"Boys," she starts, bringing out her carry-on. "It is just a seat. There’s a hundred of them on this plane. Stop being so immature and just take turns."

"But he got to hoard the window one last time!" repeats Getou, uncharacteristically insistent for something so elementary. Nanami thinks he just likes going against everything Gojo believes in out of sheer principle. 

“Like I said, you conveniently amnesiac person,” Gojo starts, charging at him again. “Last time I..”

Haibara was helping Shoko load her bag on the overhead bin, the rest of them making a valiant effort to drown out the rest of their ill-timed domestic dispute the moment they veered off topic. Gojo was bringing up old wounds of the past—Getou forgetting to buy him toothpaste on his last grocery run, Getou taking the last Pilkul from the communal fridge, Getou and how he never returns any of the clothes he borrows, Getou and—

Nanami decided that was the time to butt in if they actually wanted to get to Okinawa alive.

"Ieiri-san," Nanami suggests. "Maybe you should take it instead?"

Gojo and Getou snap their heads towards him, betrayed and wronged. He can feel Haibara's shaky hands tugging at the back of his shirt to drag him back to their safe demarcation line. 

"Say what?" asks Gojo.

Shoko smothers a knowing grin, turning to them both with just a hint of thinly veiled amusement in her eyes as she blinks innocently up at them, "You guys don't mind, do you?"

It’s hilarious the way both their faces start crunching in distaste with the vibration of such thinly-contained restraint wanting to bleed through but knowing Shoko would have their heads if they even so much as refused her.

Getou was still malfunctioning, but Gojo finds his words first. "N...n..o.." he forces out. "I..I-It's f…fine."

A pause.

“...Now that was just painful,” mumbles Haibara, looking away from the sight of a fallen hero. 

“Agreed,” whispers Nanami back, relishing in the sight of Gojo being taken down a peg.

“Glad that’s settled then,” Shoko pats his shoulder on the way. “Now shall we?”

Nanami wakes up three hours later to the sun streaming in from the small window. Getou, who rallied for at least the middle seat, had a panda eye mask folded over his eye with his hands crossed neatly on his lap. His head hung back against the headrest, light snores coming out of his mouth. Shoko was asleep on his shoulder with Gojo’s jacket splayed out over her legs. He was the only one of them awake, staring idly at the clouds shifting beneath them; and belatedly, Nanami noticed a shift in the small space they occupied, the air in it somehow charged but familiar. It’s only when he sees Gojo discreetly flick his wrist just so, aiming it somewhere particular that had something in the light rays change, that he realizes Gojo put up an infinity barrier over them and positioned it exactly so that the beams don't assault Shoko's eyes or Haibara's on the other side of the aisle. 

Damn, thinks Nanami. Maybe that is our seniors.

𓇼

Okinawa is freshly cut grass across the airport and watermelon stalls on every corner of the arrival hall as they land some time after lunch.

The Naha Airport is huge glass windows that begin from the floor all the way up to the skylights on the roof, dousing everything just a touch open and golden on a bright summer day. There’s surprisingly a lot of green than what they’re used to in sterile Narita or functional Haneda, and surprisingly so much more commercial space with bamboo kiosks selling visors or multiple boutiques displaying a variety of swimwear or floaties. Makeshift coconut trees sprout from just about every corner, it’s crown of leaves haloing over the staggering amount of tourists going to and from exits or entrances. 

Gojo whistles, eyes going over the place. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” hums Getou.

As they stood in the center of it all, they hear automated doors opening and closing, names being called over the intercom, luggage wheels sliding across the floor. They've barely made it ten steps when Gojo starts unceremoniously dragging someone to one of the overpriced tourist gift shops.

"Look!" Gojo gushes. "It’s a plushie of Jinta-san!"

Shoko protests as she's being led away. "You already have like a million of those."

"Have I seriously taught you nothing? You can never have enough," Gojo loops an arm around her when she tries scurrying away. "Haibara-kun, come. You must meet Jinta-san. He’s only the most famous whale shark in Japan!"

Haibara sends Getou and Nanami an apologetic look before he, too, starts being pulled across the already cramped airport. 

"Figures," Getou scoffs, yanking out a guide map from one of the nearby kiosks. "Of course Satoru would leave us to do the adulting."

Nanami agrees, spotting the line for the airport train. "What's new?"

𓇼

The Okinawa Yui Monorail isn't the smoothest and uncharacteristically bumpy for all of Japan is known for their trains, but it's what's going to get them to their rental with the copious amounts of luggage they brought that no taxi was prepared for. Shoko, ushered into the last remaining seat by Getou before Gojo stole it from her, is bobbing her head up and down as the sprawling trees of Okinawa pass by them. Haibara, who Getou also had shoved into the next seat that opened up right next to her before Gojo could even so much as protest, offers her his shoulder in turn. Shoko looks only too happy to take it.

Their luggages were spread out within the tiny bubble they sequestered themselves in on the spacious but tight train. Getou and Nanami each had at least two, Gojo had both his and Shoko's duffel bags heaved up on his shoulder, with Haibara’s carry-on sandwiched between his legs. Shoko, most notably, had not a single piece of luggage or bag or anything apart from the Jinta plushie held against her chest. 

"Right then," Gojo says through a mouthful of sata andagi, the Okinawan equivalent of doughnuts. "Game plan for tonight, anyone?"

"Can we crash for a bit?" whines Shoko, still resting her head on Haibara's shoulder. "Ya girl is tired."

"Ya girl spent the entire flight asleep on my shoulder," Getou remarks, reaching down to shift her head upright. "And you're not doing the same to Haibara-kun. We need his farm hands."

"Farm hands?" Haibara perks up. "What for?"

"He didn't tell you?" Getou asks. “Yaga is treating us to barbecue night."

𓇼

"Shoko!" Gojo calls out from below the stairs. "Any time this century would be nice!”

"In a minute!" Shoko yells right back.

"Are you like sewing the clothes on yourself or something?" Getou adds on, craning his neck up the landing. "What is taking so long?"

The sound of a door banging open. "Come here!"

Gojo and Getou lock eyes for a second. They shoot their hands out in the next: Gojo with scissors and Getou with paper.

Getou sighs before begrudgingly making up the stairs, one displeased step at a time as Gojo plops himself down on the nearest loveseat, chucking to himself. 

Nanami and Haibara were busy practicing their concealment charms all over the living room, with Gojo and Getou monitoring their progress and offering up the occasional feedback here and there. Apparently, they were at that point in their syllabus and were doing a piss poor job at it, if Yaga’s passive aggressive comments before they left were anything to go by. He required a full paper on his desk and a demonstration to follow as soon as they got back, and Gojo was only too happy to lord his seniorship status over them.

“Where are you guys even going?” asks Nanami, arms laid out over the window.

"Yaga threatened to debar our special grade status if we don't feed you brats," offers Gojo, snapping at Haibara to get his elbows straight. "So now we have to do some grocery. "

“Oh! Oh!” Haibara pipes up from the veranda. “I want chocolate ice cream!”

“Anything for my lovely kouhai,” says Gojo, looking magnanimous and benevolent from his perch on the chair. “How ‘bout you, Nanami-kun?”

When they finalize a grocery list that’s somehow healthy and equal parts atrocious—who puts enoki mushrooms and brown sugar boba in the same inventory?—they hear loud footsteps and voices slowly bound down from the second floor. 

"Shoko," Getou starts. "I know we're close and all, but can you please stop undressing in front of me?"

Gojo raises a brow. Haibara perks up. Nanami shoves his shoulders back down before any of them caught wind of it. Tilting his head at them, muses Gojo, "What's this now?"

Getou gestures vaguely to Shoko, busying herself with securing the last buttons of her sheer cover-up that barely covered anything by the mirror. "You know how she gets."

"What was it this time?" tries Gojo. "Bra strap? Dress zipper?"

Getou closes his eyes and breathes through his nose slow. "Bikini."

Gojo whistles. "Nice."

Shoko smiles at herself in the mirror. "Thank you."

"But what if we were perverts?" Gojo fluffs the hem of her pale pink cover up that showed bare arms and an even barer stomach. "What if we secretly mentally catalog what you look like and—"

"Satoru," Getou interrupts. "I'd stop there. We're here for almost a week."

Shoko takes her time applying the last swipe of her cherry-colored lipbalm before looking up at them from the mirror. "Well, do you?"

Gojo blinks. Nanami swallows. Hell, Haibara even starts drooling.

“Christ,” Getou curses under his breath, collecting Shoko but not before hissing at her to stop playing with the emotions of vulnerable and hormonal teenage boys. Snapping at the rest of them, chides, “Now are we going or what?” he barks. “Everything in the city closes in like an hour.”

Gojo snaps out of it, smacks Haibara on the shoulder. “Yeah, Haibara-kun,” he admonishes. “Everything closes in half an hour, what’s wrong with you?”

“I—” Haibara stammers. “I-I don’t—”

Before Gojo can tease him further, Getou reaches out to yank him by his shirt and begins dragging him away.

"Guard the house," Gojo levels Haibara and Nanami with a look that trails menacing up until he finally disappears into the door, or more accurately, Getou shoves him out of it.

𓇼

"Wait. Stop." 

Shoko curves a hand around Gojo's shoulder, balancing herself on one foot as she frowns at her shoes. "My laces—"

"Got it," offers Getou, already crouching down. 

Gojo pawns off Shoko’s tote bag on his arm to shrug it on his shoulder before nodding in the general area. "What are we here for again?"

The Nanjo Weekend Market is a beachside tapestry of fairy lights hanging off coconut trees that combines elements of live music, vendor stalls, and a surprising amount of tourists for off-season August. Umbrella huts are scattered all over the place, with children scurrying off into the sand and locals trying to offer their own versions of The Authentic Okinawa Experience to every straggling foreigner they find. It’s lively and loud but not the oppressive kind Tokyo has: the air here is lighter, the sounds are whistles not sirens, and the laughs tug up at the corners of the mouths more easier.

"We need to get stuff for the barbecue," reminds Shoko. "Google says the best meat market is somewhere around here."

"Too tight?" Getou asks from below, fiddling around with the lace.

"A little," says Shoko, glancing down. "Loosen it up a bit?"

"Do any of you even know how to pick good meat?" Gojo frowns when he spots a butcher across the shore slice through the whole belly of a pig. "We’re all city kids. Should've brought Haibara."

Shoko holds out her phone. "Utahime said, and I quote, beef should be a deep red, pork a strong pink, and lamb a light red," she finishes, before tapping Getou on the shoulder. "All good.”

Shoko's hand on Gojo's shoulder falls to the crook of his elbow, looping around it and reaching over Getou to do the same when he rejoins them. "The more important question is,” she starts, nudging them forward again. “Do any of us know how to haggle?"

"Haggle?" asks Gojo.

"Bargain," translates Getou.

"Ah," Gojo eyes widen in realization. "That commoner thing."

Shoko squeezes his arm. "Not so loud, prince," she says. "You have peasants with you."

"I’m not confident with the money or the meat," admits Getou. "Shoko?"

Shoko shakes her head. "Mom did all the groceries. Insomnia prevented me from getting up early enough to go with her."

"Satoru?" tries Getou.

Gojo scoffs. "Please," he says. "Have you guys seen me?"

"Yes," they both say in dry unison.

"Like seen me, seen me?"

"Yes," they both say in dry unison.

Gojo huffs. “You don’t get it.”

They both turn to look at him, placid faces and all. "Explain then," indulges Shoko.

Gojo gestures to himself incredulously. "My face!" he declares. "My face is all the negotiation we need!"

Getou waits a beat. "Nah," he shakes his head. "I still don't get it."

"Tch," Gojo clicks his tongue, directing them to a nearby tanghulu stall. "Watch and learn, peasants."

So they do.

They watch Gojo unceremoniously try to trial charm his way into a free tanghulu stick by laying the blue eyes on thick. It usually works, really it does, they think: on an audience of anyone less than 20 years old. It turns out the grumpy obaasans of Okinawa who've been awake since the early hours of dawn, working hard to earn their keep for the day in preparation, want absolutely nothing to do with Gojo's Prada sunglasses and Gucci slippers and YSL button-down. The lazy drawl of his Tokyo accent was doing nothing to skew the tides in his favor either. They watch him stammer his way through at least securing a mortifying discount and have to look away when he practically starts shoving money in their faces when they still don’t let up in the end.

Getou tilts his head, observant. "What do you think?"

"Hard to know for sure," Shoko notes, also angling her head this way and that. "Would it kill him to lose the glasses once in a while?"

"Think he's crying?" wonders Getou.

"If he is,” warns Shoko. “Do not give in. You know it's only crocodile tears."

Getou makes a face. "Not always—"

"Yes always," Shoko insists. "When was the last time he actually cried because he wanted to?"

"His parents forgot his birthday last year," Getou reminds her. 

"Only to fly us all off to Bali for the whole week once they realized," Shoko dismisses. "Next."

"That time he broke his shoulder," Getou tries.

"Big woop. He just needed to ram his shoulder into a wall."

"Japan losing the World Cup."

"You cried too."

"Because Japan lost the World Cup!" 

Shoko starts to wave him off only to grab his sleeve in alarm in the next second. “Shit,” she whispers lowly. "He's coming."

Getou looks on in warning. "Oh no. He's pouting."

"He's always pouting," Shoko says, before adding, more menacingly: "Do not give in."

"How do you wanna do this?" Getou straightens. 

"Coddle?” Shoko also squares her shoulders. “He's sensitive but we need his money if we're short."

"Right," Getou nods. "Princess treatment it is."

Gojo makes his way back to them with empty hands, a pout on his face, and the world's greatest ego shattered.

"Aw," Getou pitches his voice higher, shrill to anyone else but leveled just right for a docile hypersensitive manchild. "Couldn’t find anyone to give in?”

"It's okay," Shoko loops her arm around his again, practically hanging off his side. "You're still pretty. He's still pretty, isn't he, Getou?"

"The prettiest," affirms Getou, tugging him close by the shoulder they were all practically skin to skin. "What do those old women know, anyway?"

Gojo huffs, pouting down at his empty hands. "They said either buy it wholesale or get out of their faces before they call the police."

A pause.

Then:

"Still sooo pretty though," Getou gushes, trying to catch his eye. "Even prettier than Shoko!"

Gojo looks at Shoko for confirmation, who just nods somberly along all the while patting his chest. "Yeah okay, I’ll give you this one.”

Gojo slides both his arms on their shoulders and starts mushing their faces together. "No, you guys are the prettiest!"

Getou and Shoko exchange a look of triumph under all the smothering. The success rate of the princess treatment has never failed them, and it wouldn't now.

𓇼

"Stop threatening them."

"Threatening who?" asks Gojo.

"The kids," says Shoko.

"I don't threaten the kids," Gojo turns to face Getou. "Suguru. Do I threaten the kids?"

Getou lets the question hang in the air two seconds before saying, "Yes."

They were finally neck deep in the busier part of the night market, where the dialect was so strong they're not even sure half of it was Japanese and the ojisans are louder with their drunken yelling. Gojo and Getou have been propositioned at least thrice, and Shoko was the constant victim of judgemental stares for her flimsy attire she just refused to cover up despite their many attempts to hand over their jackets. They make their way through the local grocery mart, Getou pushing past a cart as Shoko unceremoniously added whichever onto the pile. Gojo's black card was paying anyway.

“I do not bully children,” says Gojo. “I love children.”

“Megumi says otherwise,” rebutts Shoko.

"Megumi is ten and in a phase," explains Gojo, also adding whatever he liked. Getou looks down at the glaring differences of what they were putting in—Shoko with her off-brand cigarettes and Gojo with his sugars and sweets—and sighs. “I’m allowed to bully him. Nanami-kun and Haibara-kun, however, I do not. I love my kouhai."

"Loving them isn't the same thing as respecting them," Shoko singsongs.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Ieiri-san?" Gojo turns to face her.

"She means we know you were raised by wolves and all," translates Getou, shoving a pack of greens into the mix because Lord knows someone has to. "But that doesn't mean the rest of us are. Some of us function perfectly fine without someone breathing down on our shoulder to get our kata form right."

Gojo looks appalled. "That was one time."

"For us, yes," Shoko agrees. "Otherwise we'll beat your ass for taking that tone with us again. But don't you have a standing Saturday session with Haibara in the dojo?"

Gojo still looks appalled. "Because he's too trusting!"

"Yes," Getou also agrees. "Kid has a heart of gold. Will be the death of him one day. Still no reason to threaten to slice him in half if he doesn't get Heian Yondan in one go."

"I do not threaten," says Gojo. "I simply strongly encourage."

"Encourage softer," appeases Getou. "Part of the whole senpai buddy system is so that they're never alone in any missions A-level or higher."

"There'll come a day they'll be alone though," insists Gojo, uncharacteristically somber and insistent about this. Lone wolf, he was, sometimes. "They need to be ready."

"They're still first years," Shoko points out gently, uncharacteristically so. "And we're not leaving for another year. We have time."

Getou gets the final word in. "So we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Shoko nods, coming back to herself. "First — Okinawa!"

Gojo could only stare dumbly at their retreating forms, so languid and so at ease, so unlike they weren't the last lines of defense that separated the fabric of reality from anarchy and chaos. But they're right, thinks Gojo, listening in on the chatter of the busy grocery and the sudden mundane all around him that had nothing to do with all of it: 

There's time for all that later.

𓇼

Dinner is the skillful hands of Getou and Haibara at the grill, Nanami and Shoko for ingredient prep, and Gojo for moral support. 

They got back just in time to see the late afternoon sun shy of setting, hues of baby blue and pale pink basking their back garden a fresh tint of calm. The in-house grill, cleaned diligently by Nanami during their wake, was surprisingly functional and already had a few slabs of pork currently sizzling on its grates. Haibara moved around some of the backyard furniture to set up a small but fully functional barbecue station, complete with a butcher block and different sauces for garnish. They opened all the sliding doors in the house to let the air ventilate around the adjoining kitchen, the flames from the grill losing itself into the light summer wind as the day was finally starting to settle down.

Their home away from home for the next few days was in a quaint neighborhood just north of Minatogawa, the sound of humming bees darting through the air and the sight of well-kept ginkgo trees a welcome break from the neon lights and industrial buildings that served as backdrop to most of Tokyo. The stillness here feels a little more intentional, the bicycle tolls of children outside a little louder, the air in their lungs a little less heavy to breathe in. It's slow and lazy and exactly what they need.

"Nanami-kun," Shoko calls out from her stool in the kitchen, a Santoku knife in one hand and a ball of onion in the other. "How do I...?"

Nanami patters back to look over her work. "A Julienne."

Shoko blinks down at the cutting board. "A what." 

"You square off the edges and cut it into planks and then strips" explains Nanami to a still just blinking Shoko. "Here. Let me show you."

As Nanami takes charge of Shoko's knife and demonstrates surprisingly professional knife-cutting skills, Gojo finds himself frowning down at the decidedly less sharper tool he was given and the decidedly shorter instructions he was barked at after much peddling to be given something to do: to cut open the can of corn and mix them in a bowl. Haibara was busy looking over the boiling sauce. Getou was wreaking havoc on a poor lamb. Shoko was being entrusted with culinary grade cutting directions, and he got the kid friendly scissors.

Gojo coughs. “I wanna do a julie too.”

“You can’t be trusted with it,” Nanami replies distractedly, carefully setting aside the bits of onion he’s chopped. “Now hurry up with the corn.”

Gojo looks at Shoko, pleading. She just shrugs, uncaring. “You heard him.”  

"Now hold it like this so you have a firmer grip on the handle," Nanami positions the knife on her hand, moving around her grip this way and that. "Yes. Just like that. Show me."

Shoko is just about to try a careful slashing of her own, before stopping, seeming to remember something, turning her head slowly just so to look up at Nanami—

…who understands his mistake immediately.

"...Ieiri-san." Nanami flushes, immediately deferential, immediately bowing his head low. "I meant show me — Ieiri-san."

Behind him, they can hear Haibara suppressing a chuckle and Getou stifling a snicker, blaming it on the fumes of the grill. Even Gojo laughs into the can of corn he somehow manages to slice open every which way wrong.

𓇼

By the time they’re done, a brisk evening air settles over the compound like dusk unfurling from the earth. The fireflies have come out of their hiding, occasionally flittering past the already well-lit garden as yellow bursts of starlight hop to and from the trees.

Shoko is in someone’s sweater—Getou, they guess, black and oversized—as she ambles her way back to the table with five plastic cups and a bottle of Pepsi. Haibara helps her hold the glasses steady as she pours a drink for each of them. Gojo is busy taking a thousand pictures at every possible angle to post on Snapchat. Nanami and Getou were dividing up portions into plates.

Everything is good.

"You're sleeping by the way," Shoko says some minutes after they dig in, looking at Gojo who was ravishing a sparerib you’d think he was raised by wolves except he was. “No exceptions.”

Gojo sputters, meaty bits flying off him. "I was always—"

Getou stops him by shoving a paper tissue on his mouth. "Satoru," he levels. "You're sleeping. The concealment charms will hold. And please, manners, we have a lady and your kouhai on the table."

Nanami and Haibara must’ve looked as confused as they felt, because Shoko was quick to turn to them. “He stayed up all night guarding Amanai and you guys the last time,” she elaborates. “Practically slept like a log on my clinic for a week afterwards. Yaga was convinced he was comatose.”

"Besides,” Shoko turns back to Gojo. “There's five of us here at practically nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

"If not we can always just bargain Gojo," suggests Getou, drowning out his whimper through his mouthful of mashed potato. "Where are we at with the bounty now, Haibara-kun?"

Haibara checks something on his phone. "A billion yen."

“A billion yen,” parrots Shoko back, putting a hand up to her chin, contemplative. “If this jujutsu thing doesn’t pan out for us, we can split the money four ways and retire here. Hell, we can even buy this exact house.”

𓇼

Soon enough night time rolls around and the debate about the sleeping arrangements goes exactly as apocalyptic as expected.

"Why should you have the solo room?" Getou challenges. "Just because you're a girl?"

"No," Shoko starts carefully. "I should get the solo room because you kick in your sleep and Gojo snores like a goddamn pig."

Gojo gasps, accosted. "I do not!"

"You don't wanna hear the recording," Shoko snaps at him. "You moan a lot, too. Christ."

"You recorded my snoring?" Gojo asks at the same time Getou points out, "We've all slept in the bed before.”

"We all start sleeping in the same bed," Shoko explains, ignoring Gojo’s mortified wails. "But in the morning,  Gojo and I always find ourselves kissing the damn floor and shivering in the cold. You're not doing this to me. Not in Okinawa."

Getou turns to Gojo. “Wanna help me out here?”

Gojo puts his hands up. "Man, I just wanna sleep,” he resigns. “And apparently I’m a moaner, too, so one crisis to process at a time.”

Getou has no choice but to direct his glare at her. "This is not the end of this conversation." 

“Oh shucks,” Shoko rolls her eyes before shutting the door on them. "I'm shaking in my fucking boots."

When they’ve been banished to the hallway, Gojo shoves him. "Why do you always try with her?" he asks. "We always give in anyway. Or else she makes us."

"Worth a shot," Getou rubs the back of his neck. "The bed looked nice and bouncy when I was there earlier. And plus, we can't have her think she can get away with anything."

"Except she can and she does," deadpans Gojo.

"Not so loud!" Getou brings a finger to his lips, manhandling him out of the eavesdropping zone. "Or else she'll start getting even more ideas."

𓇼

But the real apocalypse starts when, not even an hour into their self-mandated lights out time, Gojo screams.

It results in the rest of them spending the rest of the night following around a damn house rat that apparently got into his shirt that they now had to use every means possible—human and sorcerer—to put an end of it’s life to. It's another matter altogether once they do find it, scurrying away at the backyard, near the garbage can that was temporary lodging to their discarded meat bones and leftover sauces.

They all hid behind Shoko, Gojo and Getou clutching at each of her shoulder, all the good those special grade status and height gave them. In the end it's Shoko who finally makes that final pounce on the rat with an old, chipped wooden broom that sends it scampering across the garden and scurrying out into the streets.

They all end up sleeping in the her bedroom that night, all tangled limbs and elbows knocking uncomfortably into each other's ribs. All the while, Shoko slept soundly in the only bed in the room.

𓇼

The rest of the trip goes on just fine until:

𓇼

"Ieiri-san is kind of pretty isn't she?"

Until one day Haibara decided he had so little value for his life left.

Nanami isn't able to clamp a hand over his mouth in time. Oh god, he thought. To think they were doing so well.

Gojo was immediately on his heel, whirling around on him with his supernatural hearing, raising his glasses to rest on top of his head which in Gojo-language meant business. "What did you just say?"

A few feet ahead of them, Getou and Shoko were busy looking over a fruit display at the farmer’s market they spontaneously decided to check out on their way to the beach. Shoko was holding up a watermelon for Getou to inspect, checking over its belly and weight like what Utahime told them to. She was wearing a yellow, bare-shouldered sundress that weaved in with the wind. And Haibara, poor soul, unfortunately couldn't process much of anything else after that. All of that was fine for a growing boy, of course; the mistake really was in announcing his observation in a group with her overprotective best friends.

Really, Nanami wants to bang his head on the wall. They were just walking to the beach. 

At least, that's what he was doing. Haibara, he thinks, was looking for the fastest way to end his life at the hands of the strongest sorcerer in modern history. It's a fifteen-minute walk at most, he couldn’t have just shut his mouth up, couldn’t have saved his thoughts for later. It’s fifteen minutes for crying out loud. But maybe that's what scares Nanami the most, he thinks: a lot can happen in fifteen minutes. You could so easily kill a man in less than that time. And he knows for a fact Gojo was known for his quick kills.

Haibara blinks, his hold on his beach bag tightening. "Ieiri-san is—" he starts. "I just said she's—"

"Pretty?" Gojo finishes for him, stepping closer to them and did Nanami imagine it, or was he seriously lording over his height over a sixteen-year-old boy. "Yes, you've said."

Haibara gulps. "She is," he reaffirms. "Gojo-senpai."

Gojo narrows his eyes at him. "Just kind of pretty, though?" 

Nanami blinks, unsure where he's going with his, but wanting to end whatever it was now, right this instant, immediately. "What."

"You said she was "kind of" pretty," recalls Gojo, using air quotes. "You don't think she's beautiful?"

"What the fuck," Nanami swears under his breath, unable to stop himself. Before Haibara can get another word in and secure their early graves, they hear Getou calling out to them.

"Oi!" Getou yells from way ahead of them now, in the fish section where Shoko was making a valiant effort not to cover her mouth with a handkerchief he must’ve thrown her way out of respect for the sellers. "You guys want fish for dinner later?" Then Shoko tugs on his sleeve, bringing him back down to whisper something in his ear as he starts nodding along. He lifts his head to yell at them again, "Haibara-kun! We need you!"

Gojo didn’t like the sound of that and it shows. "Need him?" he shouts back. "For what?"

Shoko looks annoyed at the constant back and forth over the market place and decides to take matters in her own hands. "None of you city boys know the first thing about picking live fish produce," she declares. "Haibara," she points to him. "Come. Now."

Haibara was looking back and forth between her and Gojo, unsure how to proceed. Nanami was already picking out joint funeral plots for both of them in his head because surely, surely, dying a minor stipulates some form of discount?

When Haibara stays rooted in his spot just a second too long, Gojo's eyes immediately snap to him.

"Well?" he gestures ahead. "What are you waiting for? You heard her."

Nanami debates killing himself just to get it over with.

You just can't win with these two.

𓇼

They reach Furuzamami beach when the sun starts temporarily dipping low for it's midday nap, the lazy tug of the sea peaceful this time of the year as seagulls fly above them. The rest of the place is sprawling open shores and a glittering emerald green ocean that has pieces of sunlight glinting off the water, bouncing back on Gojo's glasses Shoko commandeered to shield her eyes from it. There were makeshift cabanas and bamboo huts set up around for tourists to lounge in, a variety of gift shops and rental places greeting them as they make their way closer to the coast. Gojo immediately zeroed in on a popsicle stand and dragged Haibara along with him as the rest of them set about to dropping their things on a nearby available hut.

Just as they're about to run for the beach, Shoko stops them all with a hand on her hip and all five foot nothing of her.

"Forgetting something boys?"

Gojo groans up at the straw roof. "She means sunscreen," he answers. "I hate medics."

"You'll hate yourself more when we're 30 and your fine lines start showing," Shoko rummages around the beach bag they brought. “I’m saving you a lifetime of botched botox.”

"I'll RCT it away," says Gojo, smug.

"Doesn't work that way but I love the optimism," says Shoko, gesturing at them by the hut opening. "Right then gentlemen. Single file please."

Gojo fusses every step of the way before settling himself in front of her, bending his knees. "How long do we have to wait this time?"

Shoko squirts a generous amount of Biore Aquarich into her palm before she starts lathering it onto his face. "Just ten minutes," she says. "You'll live."

"But I want to swim now."

"And you will."

"Now."

"Getou," Shoko ignores his whining, calling out to Getou who she’s glad didn’t need to be looked over like a child, as she works the sunscreen deeper into Gojo’s cheeks and forehead. "Make sure the kids are doing it properly. Nanami got sunburnt last time."

Getou looks over at Haibara who squeezed out way too much and had a thick film of white cream over his face he was practically a ghost, two big and brown blinking eyes the only thing visible on his face. Nanami doesn’t even try hiding his laugh. Haibara catches on his wrong application and all but smothers the excess sunscreen on his face as he yelps away and trips on the sand, all the while Getou was trailing after them like a mother hen rounding her chicks up.

Shoko sighs, uncaring that Gojo’s knees were wobbling from under her. “Boys.” 

𓇼

Gojo tries to surf and almost drowns in the process.

Getou cackles—actually cackles—as he cruises along the waves gracefully on his longboard. Nanami and Haibara had both their feet planted firmly on their respective soft tops, also effortlessly gliding along with the shifting waters as the August heat beat down on their grins that lit up the sun of the earth. Shoko cheered on them from the shore, Gojo's glasses and Getou's bucket hat a black and brown smudge in the distance.

"Not getting in?" Getou yells out for her.

"No!" Shoko cups her mouth to reply, an echo on the water. "Or else who else is going to take a video of Gojo being a loser?"

Gojo, who had so far been paddling pathetically in the water with his arms flailing out and about, cries out in frustration even more as water ran its way up his nose. "A little help here would be nice," he gurgles through a mouthful of saltwater.

Getou turns to the first years. "Should we?"

Nanami looks contemplative. "Let him suffer for five more seconds?"

Getou makes an OK sign in the air. "Great thinking, Nanami-kun."

Haibara didn't look like he wanted that, but Getou's word was bible to him so there they were, staring down at Gojo who kept trying and failing to get back up his paddle board. He couldn't grab purchase for any longer than three seconds, his long legs putting him at a disadvantage as he kept trying to heave them up first only to have it slip and slide over its glossy finish.

"You're doing amazing sweetie!" yells Shoko, the sound of a camera flashing accompanying her jest.

"Yes, please do keep going for our amusement," Getou piles on.

Nanami chuckles. Haibara forces himself not to sprint to Gojo's aid right away. In the end it's Getou, because it's always Getou, who finally puts him out of his misery and hauls him back up in one strong, fluid motion that had Shoko whistling and Haibara to start drooling—literally drooling—right into the ocean floor.

"Now," Getou says once he settles Gojo back on his board, who just looked flushed more than a fish out of water. "How's that for a swimming lesson?"

𓇼

By the time they get back to shore, Getou’s phone pings with a new message. "Yaga wants proof of life."

“A what?” Gojo looks up from shaking his hair dry with the towel Haibara passed him, Shoko helping Nanami get the sand out from his ears. “He wants a what?”

“Proof of life,” repeats Getou, frowning down at the text. “For the first years probably. He wants to make sure we haven’t set them on fire.”

“Set us on what now?” Haibara makes a face.

"Let’s take a picture!" Shoko perks up, dragging Nanami with her as she got her phone out. "Haibara-kun, do the thing with the settings on the camera thing.”

Haibara took her phone from her and together fiddled with it, finding angles and filters and what not. “Alright boys,” she waves a finger around. “Gather ‘round.”

Gojo was already making grabby hands at her. "Wait, no—"

But Shoko was quick to position herself in front of them, with Haibara crouched under her shoulder as Getou settled over the group, directing a glare at Gojo. "Real smooth, idiot," he whispers lowly under his breath. "There goes half of our day."

"You couldn't have stopped her," adds Nanami as he comes up next to them. "How long did we stand the last time?"

Getou's glare sharpens into menacing as he aims it all on Gojo. "You mean how long we spent kneeling and shaking?" he corrects. "For like, half an hour.”

"You guys say something?" Shoko turns around, Haibara turning with her, a pained smile on his face they knew exactly what for but valued self-preservation too much to bail him out on it.

"Nothing," they all said in unison. 

Gojo eggs her on with a smile, hands carefully reaching out to subtly take her phone from her. "Shoko," he says carefully. "Maybe let me—"

But Shoko whirls back around and Gojo lets his hand drop immediately.

"Idiot," hisses Getou again, reaching behind them to pinch the flesh on his elbow. "Just fucking pathetic."

"Agreed," Nanami arches back, shoulders slumped in between them. Thank god Haibara was keeping Shoko occupied.

Gojo gestures wildly at them, whispering under his breath. "I don't see any of you doing anything!"

"And risk getting our balls chopped off at the next medical?" demands Getou back. "No, thank you. You have RCT and you're pathetic with women. You'll be fine. Just regenerate your shit right back."

Before Gojo can get a word in response, Haibara makes vague motions of urgency at the hand he had on his back. 

"Alright! We got it!" Shoko announces suddenly, standing up straighter as they all bend low. "Big smiles now!”

It takes them the entire afternoon to get a single decent picture. Shoko kept getting their bodies cut off or angled the wrong way. Gojo kept trying to help her get her arm up to no avail. Getou was always just shy of yanking the phone from her and ending their misery. Nanami grumbled all the way through. Even Haibara's smile started to strain at the edges.

When they get the message back to Yaga, he replies back with:

"Where the hell is the rest of your heads?”

𓇼

“Oh my god.”

Getou looks on in the distance, at a distinct shape of bodies, two decidedly masculine ones helping along someone so much shorter, so much leaner, so much limper. “Oh my god,” he also says, standing up, squinting as the sun was going down. “Is that—”

Gojo beats him to it.

"We leave her alone with you for five minutes!" Gojo bristles, bridging the gap first to grab hold of Shoko and whisk her away. “And you come back with a fucking jellyfish sting?!”

Getou helps him settle her carefully down in their hut. “Are you okay?” he says to her pained face, at her breathing through her nose, at the sweat on her forehead. “Where does it hurt?”

Gojo rounds on them meanwhile. “Well?” 

Nanami felt—more than saw—Haibara swallow. "Uh—” he stammers. "We— I—"

Behind him, they can hear Shoko telling Getou to stop fussing and just elevate her leg to get the swelling down. Gojo sidesteps to block them from view, crossing his arms over his chest.

“W-We were on the e-edge of the beach,” starts Haibara nervously. “And w-we wanted to show Ieiri-senpai t-this baby crab we saw. I-It was white and h-had the cutest eyes, r-right Nanami?”

Nanami doesn’t want to say anything in that moment, much less be complicit. But something about team camaraderie and not allowing themselves to be bullied by exploitative seniors who couldn’t see reason sometimes. “It was really pretty.”

“T-then one of the l-locals came and said t-there was a better spot to s-see them by t-the shallow end, where s-some fishermen were f-fishing,” Haibara, bless his soul, keeps going. “H-He even s-said w-we can c-catch one of the b-bigger ones for keep and cook them. N-Nanami said he knew a recipe but we needed Ieiri-senpai’s help for it.”

Nanami always knew they were kind of territorial. He just didn't expect they'd be territorial even with them.

"What do you mean you wanted Shoko's help?" Getou looks up from the first aid bag he was rooting around in. Shoko just rolled her eyes and yanked it from him.

Nanami levels with them. "We needed someone who knows how to cook crabs.”

Gojo gets in his line of vision. "Why Shoko specifically?" he gestures behind him at Getou, who straightens, Shoko fending for herself with the cortisone cream. "We can cook too. Can probably handle a few crabs."

Nanami wants to say that no, you actually can't because the burnt taste in his tongue from Getou's piss-poor attempt at making onigiri still lingers at the back of his mouth. But the look Gojo was pressing on him was starting to grow apprehensive. "Uh," Nanami scrambles for an answer. "We, uh, wanted to try a homemade recipe from Kamakura?"

"Kamakura," parrots Getou back, drily.

Nanami horribly finds a sweat trickle down his neck. "Kamakura," he repeats. "Where Ieiri-san’s mother is fro—"

"We know where her mother is from," Gojo interrupts. "What, think you know her better than us?"

Nanami did not think that at all. He didn't think that one bit and it's so like these two alpha-presenting territorial idiots to start jumping to conclusions where she was concerned. Really, he doesn't know how she's put up with them for so long.

Evidently Shoko was already at her breaking point too.

“Gojo, just shut up and heal me will you?” Shoko snaps her fingers at him, apparently done and frustrated fighting with the gauze by herself. “And leave them alone. You guys have literally made me work on a shattered knee that one time you forced me into one of your trampoline parks. This is nothing.”

𓇼

If Nanami thought Gojo was an intense hoverer, there was no beating Getou's brand of mother henning.

"Got your water?"

"Yes."

"Bug spray?"

"Right here."

"Allergy medicine?"

"I have RCT."

"You never know—"

"Getou," Shoko stops him. "I'm the medic, remember?"

They were getting ready for a hike at the ass crack of dawn the next day, the only people who enjoy waking up this early province boy Haibara and insomniac Gojo. The rest of them were grumpy and annoyed and operating on less than eight hours of sleep because someone—meaning both of them—got it inside each other’s heads to punish their already exhausted bodies by looking up mountain trails all the locals favored. It's day whichever of their trip and it's a miracle they haven't started killing each other. But maybe all that was going to change today.

"Be careful, Shoko," Getou says as he offers her a hand to anchor herself with, stepping over the murky terrain of the river rocks. "That one is slippery."

Gojo already had a hand poised at her back to steady her if she fell. “Remind me why we choose this route again?"

"You said you wanted a challenge," reminds Haibara a few steps behind them, looking far too preppy and eyebag-less for an early morning hike. “And this is apparently the hardest trail in Okinawa!”

A series of collective groans follow.

Nanami watches ahead of him as Gojo and Getou fumble over themselves to get Shoko safely across the river, being anything short of being a makeshift bridge for her to step into. She wasn't even saying anything, has never even so much as demanded such waiting on foot behavior. It was something they just readily offered. 

Gojo turns back to extend a hand to Haibara, who blinks down at it. "If you guys crack your head on the rocks," he explains. "Yaga is kicking us out of the school. We're kind of responsible for your lives this week."

"You don't say," Nanami mumbles hotly next to him, carefully skipping over a boulder.

"I heard that!" Getou bellows ahead, fixing the pack on his shoulder. He really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today. "Such ungratefulness! When we've been nothing but kind senpais to you!"

"Ieiri-san is," says Haibara.

“Agreed,” says Nanami.

Shoko gives them a thumbs up in the air. Gojo contemplates drowning them.

𓇼

"So," Gojo says once they hit the hour mark and reach the edge of a brook. "Anyone up for some good old-fashioned rock climbing?"

Nanami answers for everyone. "You can't be serious."

The rock wall in question towered over them some fifteen meters high, the distant sound of a hot spring nearby amping his excitement up higher. While the foundation of the rock landscape looked sturdy enough, some of them were jutting out of the wall in weird formations with interlocking rows of large rocks that looked weathered and slippery over time. Long vines were trailing down the slope, from the arch of the hill all the way down to dirt of the forest. The thought of climbing up it’s steep rim could make anyone’s stomach weak. 

Evidently this doesn't faze Gojo. Not in the slightest.

"Cursed energy allowed," announces Gojo, unclipping his backpack to set it down on the ground. A fire was brewing in his eyes, a challenge. "You can even summon your cursed spirits, if you like, Suguru.”

“We don’t even have ropes,” tries Nanami.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Gojo arches a brow at him, amused. “We don’t need ropes if we have cursed energy.”

“...A dangerous train of thought but alright,” comments Getou, taking a chug from his bottle before passing it on to Haibara. “Are you sure you don’t need to take a nap?”

“I don’t need a nap I need movement,” defends Gojo, fighting with the zipper of his jacket.

“OK, ADHD brain,” Shoko finds a nearby tree to perch in. “Go on then. We’ll watch your things.”

Gojo pauses in his fussing. “You’re not going with me?”

Nanami snorts. “Unprotected? In that suicide mountain hill of rocks?” he says. “No thank you. I wanna live past graduation unlike some people.”

“I’ll do your missions for a week.”

“I don’t mind missions.”

“I’ll cook for you.”

“I’d rather starve.”

“Then,” Gojo’s eyes light up. “If you win—whichever of you—I’ll leave you alone. For a week.”

𓇼

Nanami is the first to fall.

It's amazing, really, how long he lasted granted his aversion to inconveniencing himself any more if he can help it. Getou and Haibara were way up into the steeper parts of the cliff, their steady hands on the rocks and center of gravity nearly flawless. All of them had a healthy dose of innate athleticism made sharper by combat training, but: learning to fight curses is entirely different from knowing which goddamn rock was going to be your literal downfall. Nanami thought he got the hang of it, ten minutes in, when he was striding confidently across the stones and heaving his leg up in equal parts confidence and annoyance at actually being convinced to do it. 

It took one suspicious-looking rock that looked sturdy but was anything but for him to cave in. Literally.

On his way down, he swears he saw Getou slip a 1,000 yen bill into Gojo's hand.

Nanami blinks his eyes open to Shoko peering down at him, a disapproving frown etched on her face. 

"Thought you'd last longer."

Nanami slowly rights himself up with her help. "I thought I did, too."

“Valiant effort still,” Shoko says, dusting the grime off his shirt. He feels the familiar sensation of cursed energy gently probing against his muscles and knows she was checking for any lingering fractures.

"Thought you weren't healing anyone," Nanami comments.

"Thought you weren't joining," Shoko parrots back.

They lock eyes for a second, then break into a shared laugh.

"Oi! Shoko! Nanami!" Getou calls down from higher up than they anticipated he'd actually reach, the furthest any of them got. The clouds were a bright blue background against the portrait of his concerned eyes squinting down on them. "Everything okay down there?"

Shoko beats Nanami out of replying, cupping her hands around her mouth as she stands up to yell back, "Nanami broke an arm!"

Nanami did, in fact, break no such thing.

Gojo almost slips on a boulder. "What?!" he squeaks. "Like broken, broken?"

Haibara pauses midway to the top, not willing to compromise his gravity by looking down but it was evident in the line of his shoulders. He was listening. They all were. Nanami fights a grin.

"Only one way for bones to break last I read," Shoko wonders out loud. 

"Well," Gojo glares at the rock he was face to face with. "Heal him then! Or something!"

Shoko hums. “What will you give me for it?”

“Oh my god, Shoko,” Getou groans into the air and glares daggers down at her. “His arm is broken. Can you please leave the haggling alone for one second.”

Gojo was already making his way down. “Don’t worry, Nanami-kun!” he yells, breathless. “Senpai is coming! I’ll heal you!”

𓇼

When he finally does, Gojo looks over Nanami suspiciously. "I don’t understand. He looks fine."

"Please," Shoko scoffs, gesturing to herself. "You think I'm actually letting my favorite kouhai go on with a fractured arm?"

Haibara arrives just in time to hear that. "Wait, what—" he blinks. "Favourite— Favourite what— But I thought—"

Getou steers him along, a hand on his shoulder and a gentle coddling voice. "I know, I know," he coos. "She's mean."

𓇼

By the time they got back down from the trail, the sun has set and the airborne chill of the evening was starting to slide its way in the breath of the forest.

"Should we set up camp?" suggests Getou, Shoko using one of his arms for support as she toed her shoes in where it got loose. "It'll be another two hours to get back to the entrance."

Gojo looks over the span of the trees. "Everyone brought sleeping bags right?"

"Oh shit," blurts Haibara, looking sheepish when they all turn to him. "I left mine in my other pack."

"I think mine is in XL," Getou offers. "We can share."

 Gojo frowns. "I thought we were sharing."

"Share with Shoko," he suggests, nodding to her.

Gojo's hesitant eyes lock with Shoko's glare that left no room for negotiation as she just stared him down.

"Right," Gojo nods, more to himself, stalking away from her. "Nanami-kun it is then."

Nanami groans, tilting his head up to the dark sky, very oh woe is me.

"I'm a beloved roomie!" Gojo says.

"Said no one ever," mumbles Getou under his breath.

𓇼

They assign tasks. Shoko and Nanami get campfire duty, Haibara supplying the logs and Getou chopping them up. Gojo was busy casting safety charms all over the small clearing they've set up in, the purple glow of his cursed energy descending down on them in pulses until it withered away into the ether. A transparent film of contained energy permeated the space, but up close, it basically looked like nothing.

"Think that'll hold?" asks Nanami when Gojo settles back down with them, taking the stick Shoko was poking the fire with to start his own jabbing, for no other reason than he thought it looked cool and wanted to do it himself. "It's a big forest."

"Suguru," Gojo calls out. "Do you hear the nerve on this kid? Think that'll hold?" he scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

Nanami's eyebrow twitches. "I was only making sure—"

"Nanami-kun," Gojo clicks his tongue at him. "You're with two special grades and the only active RCT user in Japan as we speak. You’re safer than the Prime Minister right now."

Getou and Shoko give him a thumbs up in turn.

Then Nanami remembers, exactly, who his seniors are. 

Damn.

𓇼

Getou wakes up earlier than the rest.

The lazy drags of sunlight starting to pour in from the gaps in the pine trees is the first sight that greets him. He always preferred to be a slow riser to the day, meeting the sun just as the clouds shift to make way for her. This early in the morning the forest was crisp with mildew, the sound of hiyodoris in the distance trailing their songs all over the glade. He looks around the area and sees Gojo has somehow migrated to Nanami's side of the sleeping bag, all but using him as a glorified pillow. Shoko was curled in on herself with Haibara snoring peacefully not a few feet away from her, his side of their bed clean and the blanket they shared cocooning him all over.

It's a calm morning. A peaceful one he hasn’t had in awhile. 

He almost doesn't wanna disrupt it by waking them up.

So he lets them sleep in.

After awhile it’s Nanami who stirs awake next, doing his best to shove the leech plastered to his side. Gojo just stumbles back on the other side of the bed like a log. His voice is groggy with sleep and rough when he mumbles a soft, "Good morning, Getou-senpai.”

"Fresh coffee is in the thermos,” Getou offers, palming the travel mug around his hands to warm himself. "Take your time. It's a long way back."

𓇼

When everyone finally rallies themselves awake, they make their slow descent back to the river.

Up ahead, Haibara was animatedly retelling a childhood story where he had to fish for keep in the waters of Lake Kawaguchiko, Shoko listening intently and Nanami nodding along to offer indulging questions. The sun has warmed the heart of the forest, now, with the rays gently shifting through the barks of the trees and the petals of the water lilies and touching their skin just a graze warmer. Nanami warns them of a rocky landform ahead, offering to hold Shoko's pack for her when she crosses the slope with Haibara waiting on the other side to act as a buffer.

"Think we did okay?" Gojo asks at his side.

Getou looks on in amusement at Haibara squealing when he spots a jungle snake hanging on a tree and Shoko dragging him along, telling him to cover his eyes, all the while Nanami was discreetly clutching at the strap of her bag too.

"All things considered," Getou says softly. "I think we did more than okay."

When he turns to look at him, Gojo has the ghost of a smile on his face.

𓇼

The flight back to Tokyo is decidedly less chaotic.

They don't kill each other over packing nor start being weirdly possessive about whose shirt that was or whose similar blue towel that belongs to. They don't insist on whose extra luggage space to dump their extra stuff in into because Gojo has the biggest Rimowa so it was only natural he got the excess, unplanned purchases that inevitably follow tourists on vacation. They don't argue in the morning of their flight, when the adrenaline from vacation inevitably wanes, and the crankiness sets in. 

By now they know each other too well to get into any petty fights born out fo travel fatigue. Instead, they just let the other do their own thing as they take to each other's pre-flight processes:

Getou flosses his teeth. Gojo makes sure all his glasses are accounted for. Nanami budgets all the money he has left. Haibara counts the number of socks he packs lines up with the amount he brought. Shoko finishes the rest of her sci-fi novel in silence. 

On the monorail back, they also don't fight over who gets to sit because Shoko always won anyway. The travel agency somehow mixes up their seats and gives them the choice to re-pick them if they wanted. Shoko decides to hunker down with the first years for a change, much to Gojo's dismay. What do they have that we don't? he pouted. The ability to shut up, supplied Shoko. 

Not even ten minutes into the flight, a ball of white hair pops up from a few aisles over. Shoko was already fast asleep in the middle. Haibara was leaning against the window, dozing off. So when inevitably Gojo points to his eyes and then back to them, glaring, warning, heaving, the universal code for I’m watching you: only Nanami was awake to receive the warning. Nanami rolls his eyes just in time to see Getou yank him down and force a seatbelt and mouth guard on him.

𓇼

It’s late when they land in Haneda. 

Gojo was struggling to get his eyes open, all his weight leaning on Shoko who also looked like she was ready to collapse onto the bed. The fact she wasn't even fighting him off was a clear indication of how tired she was. Haibara was trying in vain to stay awake, head bobbing as he stood guarding their luggages by the terminal gate. Only Getou was lucid enough to talk, talking in low tones with Yaga, asking how far the assistant was and could they send a six-seater? 

The minivan finally arrives and they all but collapse into the seats. Gojo immediately snuggles up to the next closest person for warmth, which just happened to be Getou, who Shoko was also already taking up the other half of his shoulder. Haibara lands on the seat behind them with Nanami in tow, all but melting into it as he does. 

It's a long ride back to the outskirts of Mount Takao and they sleep all the way through it.

𓇼

"So?" Yaga prompts. "How was the trip?"

It's their shared briefing period the next morning and Tokyo is unchanged. Yaga is currently sporting a decadent display of gifts he was only too proud to show off: the I♡OKINAWA t-shirt from Haibara, the knock-off Raybans from Gojo, the BEST TEACHER EVER! mug on his desk from Shoko, a handful of local delicacies from Nanami; and finally, an enamel pin showing a miniature Nirai Beach from Getou on the collar of his uniform. It glittered in the light of the classroom. He looked like an up-and-coming Youtube rapper who raided the dollar store for a fit, but his smile is genuine, as is his interest in their enjoyment.

"Wanna make this an annual thing?" Yaga asks through a mouthful of goya champuru.

Their eyes find each other somehow, in the warmth of sunlight in summer and an experience shared, in the knowing it was going to live inside them forever.

“Hell yes,” Gojo answers for everyone with a grin as wide as the sky.

[aihoshiino]

Da Vinci Magazine Jan. 2024: A Q&A with Ai of B-Komachi!

In the January 2024 issue of Da Vinci magazine, there was an in-character interview with Ai as written by Aka Akasaka that you can read a translation of here! What I forgot to mention on that initial post is that there was also a little lightning round Q&A the original anon didn't translate at the time. Thankfully, they did post it and I just... completely forgot it existed until now. ;9 Shout out to past me who remembered to save it and kept me from having to dig thru the 4chan archives for it...

Unlike the original interview, this is my translation! So any goofs and gaffes are entirely on me lol. This is also totally spoiler safe, so you can read both this Q&A and the original interview no matter what point you are in the series.

Get to Know Ai Better! Q&A Session

Q. What motto do you live by?

A. I really like "Tomorrow is a new day." I'm one of those people who forgets all their worries after a good nights' sleep. (laughs)

Q. Tell us how you refresh yourself!

A. I like taking naps on my days off. I was saying earlier that I forget my worries once I've gotten some sleep but with this job, it can be hard to find the time to actually do it. Not just that, but lately I've been waking up in the night to take care of this and that, so when I do have the time to sleep, I really conk out.

Q. What is your routine on days off?

A. I wake up, prep some milk… oh, um - I like cornflakes so I always need milk for breakfast. Then I go for a nap (laughs). I know some of the other B-Komachi members like going to beauty salons or nail salons, but I don't do nails and I let my hair grow out so I'm usually just at home (laughs). I even cut my own bangs! I've been doing it for years so I'm pretty good at it. I've even cut other peoples' hair once or twice, though not anyone in B-Komachi.

Q. Your 20th birthday's coming up soon. What are you looking forward to doing once it arrives?

A. I want to try drinking alcohol. The president of my agency keeps saying, "I can't wait to have a drink with you!" He makes it sound like a lot of fun, so I'm curious to know what getting tipsy's like.

Q. What book left the biggest impression on you this year?

A. It's a manga, but I was moved to tears by "I'll Go With Sweet Today". The heroine is a girl who distrusts people and develops anorexia, becoming terrified of eating… I have a bit of that in me too, though not quite to the same extent she does, so I could really relate to her and her journey to recovery really moved me. If there's ever a live-action version, I'd love to play her!

Q: What would you like to do after the Dome concert?

A: I'd like to go on a trip or something. Where would be nice... Oh, I've heard of 'Mito Natto' before, so maybe Mito!

Q: What's something a fan said that made you happy?

A. You know, I didn't used to read any fan letters at all. But there was a time I was getting tired of being an idol and I was planning to quit, so the president made me sit down and read all the letters I'd gotten. That was the first time I'd ever realized just how much support I was getting and it made me go "in that case, I'll give them all my love and support in return!". I even wrote a song about it. So now I treasure all the letters and words I get from my fans. I actually got a gift from a fan recently, some 'star sand'. It was really beautiful and my real name "star" in it, it made me really happy. I've still got it displayed in my room.

Q: What is "true love" to you?

A. I guess if I had to sum it up, I'd say true love is being a genius who doesn't lie. I think maybe people lie to avoid lying. I'm not sure if that's a good answer and even I don't know if it makes sense, but it's just something I feel.

Q: Do you think you're a liar?

A: Hmm~~? That's a se~cret! (laughs)

[no-truth-left]

1.001 Wake up

The first thing she notices is how hungry she is. It gnaws at her abdomen, and she thinks about how she'll need a double helping of rice, fish, and natto for breakfast. Saliva pools in her mouth as she dreams of the smell of cooking food.

But first she needs to get out of bed.

Wait.

What bed?

Adrenaline shoots through her, killing her grogginess. Jolting up, legs flailing, the boat rocks precariously, and she grabs onto the side to steady herself. Brackish water ripples away from the small dinghy, into thick fog. The smell of rotting fish and stagnant water assault her nose so powerfully she can taste it on her tongue.

"Hello?" She calls out cautiously, both hoping someone hears her and fearing who might be around to. For better or worse, only the low, continuous drone of buzzing flies answers her.

Her grip tightens on the boat, splintered wood digging into her hands.

Okay. Okay, this isn't the worst thing that has happened to her, surely. She just got confused waking up and got her wires crossed. But the only memories she recalls are vague; trips to the supermarket, her commute to work, cleaning the bathroom. Nothing tells her how she got here or why she'd want to be here.

[gloryhrs]

⟡ 𝐃𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐊𝐈! ━━ 「 Toshiro Hitsugaya. 」

male reader ʚɞ highschool au ʚɞ toshiro wears glasses yippe!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ TOSHIRO sat by himself under the large tree whilst scribbling answers onto his homework paper, right now everyone was at lunch but he was too busy finishing up some extra work for class, plus he forgot to pack his lunch. "Toshi Toshi! Are you still doing that essay?" A voice made his heart race as he looked up to see you with two bags in your hands, 'It must be food, I did tell him I didn’t have any lunch.' His cheeks heated up slightly at the memories of you bringing him everything he wanted and more once he mentioned it to you. His lips curved upwards as he placed the papers aside and patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit next to him.

Once you sat down next to him you opened the bags to retrieve the bento boxes, "I brought you some natto chahan and natto rolls! Since you love natto so much!" You passed the box to him as his cheeks flared up even more. You always spoiled him, the way you did anything and everything for him always made his heart feel heavy knowing he didn’t have the money to spoil you back. "You didn’t have to." He muttered whilst playing with the chopsticks, around other people he would be strict and serious but once you’re with him he would immediately become joyful. People (Rangiku) would frequently tease him because of his random mood swings and the nicknames but he couldn’t help it, you are truly his soft spot. No matter what you did or say to him, you’ll always find a way back into his heart.

"What do you mean? You’re my boyfriend! I’ll buy you anything your icy heart desires." You reached out to pinch his red-tinted cheek before grabbing your chopsticks as well. The comfortable silence made Toshiro hum softly as intertwined his hand with yours and leaned his head on your shoulder. "Can we hang out after school? I need to run some errands for my grandmother." He spoke with a hint of embarrassment as he played with your fingers, a small habit he picked up when he first started dating you.

"Of course! Can we stop by the hair place as well? I need to get some more hair supplies! And a new bonnet…" You grimaced at the memory of your dog ripping the fabric into shreds and later using the bathroom on it, when you told Toshiro about the incident he was laughing his short ass off. "Of course, we can." He kindly kissed your cheek with him nuzzling his nose into it. "Oops." You laughed when your glasses fell off your face along with your boyfriend’s, hearing his beautiful laughter made your eyes softened. It reminded you of the first day of summer after you both completed middle school together, when you and him had a water gun fight to cool each other off. It was also the same day you confessed your feelings to him, the way he looked at you was a sight your never want to forget.

"What I’m saying is that… I hope we can be more than friends." You scratched the back of your neck out of nervousness, the silence making you want to crawl up into a ball and die out of embarrassment. "Y/n, I like you as well but you know I can’t… I’ll barely have any time to spend with you because I have to take care of my grandmother." Toshiro placed his hands in yours, "That doesn’t matter! I’ll make sure to take care of you and her! I’ll cook any meal you both like, I’ll help her with her medication, and I’ll even sleep here more often if that means I’ll be able to be with you!" Your grip on his hands tightened as his eyes widened instantly from your words.

You watched as water started to gather in those icy turquoise eyes that held nothing but love, warmth, and admiration. "Thank you Y/n, thank you so much!"

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ TOSHIRO looked around the store with his mouth agape slightly as you walked beside him with one hand holding his bags and the other one holding his hand. "Wow." His eyes enlarged at the various colors of hair, gold jewelry, and the colored types of hair products, it was like a child looking around a candy store for the first time. He continued to hold your hand when you walked down the aisles looking for your signature hair products. "I see you’re enjoying yourself." He snapped out of his daze to look at your smirking face, which made his cheeks warm up out of embarrassment.

"S-Stop staring at me!" His voice squeaked slightly as he down at his feet in shame. You laughed at your boyfriend’s shy behavior, you removed your hand from him so you lift his head back up so you could see his timid state. "Don’t act like that Toshi, you know I still love you." Your plump lips grazed against his wintry ones to form a loving kiss, you groaned against his lips when his hands gripped your hair in attempt to pull away from the heated kiss. You bit his lip one final time before pulling away from the red-faced male, "I-I told you about doing that in public! What if someone caught us?" He looked around the store to see if anyone saw them, which they didn’t.

"Then I would’ve given them a show." You kissed his nose and proceeded to walk down the aisle with the shorter male following behind you. "Yo Toshi, they even have bonnets with snowflakes on em!" You held the silky blue and white snowflake-riddled bonnet as Toshiro playfully rolled his eyes, "What do I look like wearing that? We don’t even have the same hair text—" His words were completely cut off after feeling the silky fabric on his head. You held back a grin at the adorable sight before you, a small vein appeared on Toshiro’s head when he heard the sound of a camera clicking.

"Damn it! Delete that Y/n!" He attempted to take the phone from your grasp but you were so tall to the point of the was not able to reach it no matter how high he jumped. "Why it’s so cute!" You showed him the cute picture, "Tch, whatever." Toshiro looked away and crossed his arms with the same pink color dusting his cheeks. After finding the products you needed you set the bonnets in the basket with a sly smirk on your face, what Toshiro doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ YOU continued to play the mini gaming console as Toshiro’s hands toyed with the golden jewelry that lay in your h/c locs, the eighteen-year-old male frowned slightly at the way your attention focused on the console and not him. He sighed to himself with the frown on his face deepening, "Is there something wrong?" You turned the game off to stare up at your pouting boyfriend who looked away and scoffed when you glanced at him. You ran your hands through your hair at his childish behavior, you least expected this type of behavior from him, since he was quite mature for his age.

"Toshiro, what's the matter." You grabbed his face only to see the same frown presented on his face, "You were paying attention to that damn console for so long that you forgot about me." He muttered loud enough for you to hear. The silence made him want to curl up a scream his lungs out, he couldn’t believe he was jealous of a damn game. "That’s it? If you wanted some of my attention then you should’ve just said something, babe." You smirked which showed your f/c braces with your sharp fangs that made Toshiro weak in the knees.

"I want your attention, all of it." He wrapped his arms around your neck to pull you down into another intense kiss, the way your tongue made contact with his made his whole body warm up in excitement. He loved the way you made him feel when you put your lips on his, the electric feeling running through his veins nonstop. His hands made their way to your hair once more to give it a light tug as your hands lift the uniform shirt to his mid-stomach with your warm hands holding his bare waist. The faint noises Toshiro made caused your hold on his waist to tighten, "W-Wait Y/n." He tugged on the collar of your shirt when you placed open-mouthed kisses on his neck.

"What’s wrong? You said you wanted all of my attention." Your lips latched onto a certain spot on his neck that made him throw his head back in pleasure, the feeling of your fangs brushing against the spot made his grip on your hair loosen and his thoughts go hazy. You could tell he was getting weak second after second from the way you continuously sucked on the spot on his neck, after pulling away you admired the sight only you were able to see. Toshiro’s chest rises up and down at a rapid pace as his squared glasses were now placed on his forehead with his hair slightly messy, his cheeks now dusted with red, his lips red and bruised from your constant biting and sucking, and to finish it all off his once pale neck and collarbone was now decorated with multiple purple markings.

"You’re so beautiful Toshiro, you’re lucky we’re not at my house."

©️ gloryhrs, 031923. // notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦)/

[epickiya722]

For the anime ask game, can I ask :

Balance : Unlimited, Vanitas no Carte and ATLA?

BALANCE UNLIMITED 💴

Favorite Character: Haru Kato! From his design to his personality, Haru easily became my favorite character.

Favorite Arc/Episode/Scene: The entirety of episode 4. It's just too funny to me that Daisuke left the house because he got natto for breakfast, left his phone by accident, and has to stay with Haru because he refuses to go back home. He slept in the bathtub! 😆

Character I Think is Underrated: The whole Detective Division. They're actually very enjoyable characters to me and a lot of the scenes they have together are favorites of mine.

Character I Think is Overrated: We all know it's Daisuke. Remember when that show came out?! Oh my gosh... still love him though.

Favorite Ship/Pairing: DaiHaru, that will always be my ship!

Something I Love About the Show/Movie: The gag that at the end of each episode shows the total balance of how much money was spent is something that I love. Whoever thought to do that, I applaud them. Also, just the overall vibe of the show. To me, it's an anime worth a rewatch. I find myself doing so once in a while. The opening song is one of my favorite anime openings still!

**

VANITAS NO CARTE ✒

Favorite Character: Noé is everything to me. He actually holds a very special place in my heart because he looks like a character I created way back in middle school.

Favorite Arc/Episode/Scene: One of my favorite scenes has to be that Vanitas had pushed Noé to the point of being scary. First season when they're facing Roland and Noé takes Vanitas hostage. The way Vanitas reacts will always have me in tears and Noé? Me watching that scene "you're doing amazing, sweetie!"

Character I Think is Underrated: I feel like Amelia is underrated. She's nice, I like her.

Character I Think is Overrated: Noé definitely, but more so Vanitas is overrated.

Favorite Ship/Pairing: Vanitas and Noé! Their dynamic is everything to me, okay?

Something I Love About the Show/Movie: The anime, to me, is very beautifully animated to me. The music though? That first ending song, oh my gosh. That song is just... I can't even describe. You ever listen to a song and it just puts you in a trance and it relaxes you? That's what that song is like.

**

AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER 💨

Note: ATLA isn't an anime. But I'll answer for it.

Favorite Character: ATLA has such a good cast of characters, it's hard to choose a character. But for me, it's Yue! When watching her episodes as a kid, I couldn't help but admire her. Still do!

Favorite Arc/Episode/Scene: Other than Yue scenes, The Beach is definitely one of my favorite episodes. Another would have to be "Firebending Masters". My favorite scene is when Aang and Zuko gets stuck in that trap and Aang yells for help and Zuko responds "who are you yelling to? No one has lived here for centuries!"

Character I Think is Underrated: Hmm... okay any Avatar that isn't Roku, Aang and Kyoshi. Avatar Yangchen being one.

Character I Think is Overrated: The main cast, but can you blame them? To pick... I'm giving it to Zuko and Sokka here.

Favorite Ship/Pairing: Sokka/Suki will always be one of my favorite canon relationships. It's just so sweet! And admittedly, I am also a fan of Zukka.

Something I Love About the Show/Movie: The characters, love them. The plot, amazing. Music, on point. One thing I really like about the show is the number of memorable quotes. It's been over a year since I actually watched the show, but almost every day I or anyone in my family will quote something from it.

"Let us leave!"

"Lettuce leaf?"

"My aura has never been pinker!"

"My own mother thought I was a monster. She was right, of course, but it still hurts."

"I CAN STILL FIGHT!!"

"It just says... 'bear'."

You get the picture.

Anime Ask Game

[partrin]

"is that natto?" rin asks, wrinkling his nose as he watches the other man rip the seal of a small, white plastic container open.

haru just stares at him, blindly reaching for his chopsticks. he tears open several tiny packets that had come with his food and empties them into the container, mixing everything like he's some sort of witch making a love potion in a cauldron. rin tries to tune out the squelching noises it makes and fights the urge to gag.

"don't ask questions you know the answers to," haru chides. "living in australia for a few years doesn't suddenly make you any less japanese."

"no need to get defensive, haru. i was only asking."

the squelching stops. haru lifts his chopsticks and makes a quiet little satisfied hum as his eyes follow the sticky string that stretches between the mixture and the tip of his chopsticks. he brings it to his mouth and tastes it, makes tiny, content smacking noises with his lips before sliding the container across the table.

"it's good," he says. "do you want some? i didn't buy you any."

rin grimaces. "no thank you. i'm not exactly a fan of natto, if you couldn't already tell by now."

haru shrugs, pulling the container back towards him. "it's good," he says again, digging into his meal. "you just don't know how to appreciate good food."

"one could argue that it's an acquired taste, but what do i know? i eat regular food. you're a weirdo who likes weird things."

haru gives him a pointed look. rin takes this as an opportunity to drive his point home.

"you eat mackerel with toast. you're like, the epitome of a weirdo when it comes to food. or liking weird food. and you never eat a balanced meal. you probably have like, i don't know, fish oil running through your veins."

"i don't remember inviting my dietitian to dinner," haru scoffs before taking another small bite of his fermented beans. "and if i'm a weirdo, then that just makes you even weirder."

rin glares at him as if to dare him to elaborate. haru, however, continues chewing on his food, effectively avoiding the need to remind rin that he had chosen to date him. rin hears him anyway. being with haru sharpens the skill of being able to listen even when no words are spoken.

"fine," rin caves, rolling his eyes. "i'll have one bite. just the one."

he pretends he doesn't see the dignified smirk that stretches haru's lips thin as he unceremoniously pushes a large scoop of natto into rin's mildly welcoming mouth.

he also pretends he doesn't drop by a konbini on his way home later to buy two containers of natto, one for haru and one for himself, for when haru decides to grace his apartment with his presence in the weeks to come. maybe having an acquired taste isn't so bad.

[kopw]

from the baka gaijin + friends vol. 2 photo zine. click for higher quality. english transcriptions under the cut!

45 Questions + 45 Answers with Drew Parker/Chris Brookes

Q: Are you a spiritual person? D: Not in the slightest. C: Not really, but I like the idea of it.

Q: Who is your greatest opponent? D: Masashi Takeda. C: My own self doubt.

Q: Which wrestler do you see yourself in most? D: Jeff Hardy. C: The Great Sasuke.

Q: What is your favourite film? D: The Cat in the Hat. C: Battle Royale, True Romance.

Q: Who is a famous person you would like to meet? D: Daisuke Kiso. C: Mio Imada.

Q: What is beautiful for you? D: Dogs. C: Mio Imada.

Q: What is ugly for you? D: My reflection. C: Spiteful people.

Q: What are you like when you get drunk? D: Loud but harmless. C: I don't think I really change much. Too open.

Q: Are you left or right handed? D: Left. C: Left.

Q: Any comment for the world of pro-wrestling! D: It's shit. C: Have more fun.

Q: What is Japan like? D: Very welcoming. C: Wonderful.

Q: What's the angriest you've ever been? D: I'm never angry. C: I'm a very short term, slightly agitated person. I don't get really angry.

Q: What are your greatest weaknesses? D: Discipline. C: Self doubt.

Q: Do you like fashion? D: If it's black I'll wear it. C: I like Death by Roll-Up. Most fashion seems stupid.

Q: What time do you usually wake up/go to sleep? D: 7am/11pm. C: 8am/2am.

Q: Favourite thing to watch on YouTube? D: Games console restoration videos. C: People restoring rusty/dirty antiques.

Q: Your special ability that no one knows about. D: I'm talentless. C: Everyone knows everything these days! How can you keep anything a secret?

Q: What do you enjoy doing most? D: Drinking with Chris. C: Doing nothing is the best time.

Q: What is the biggest mistake of your life? D: I make mistakes daily. C: I don't know if I've made one big enough to quantify it like that.

Q: Are you lucky? D: To make it this far; yes. C: Sometimes.

Q: Who do you consider geniuses? D: Chris Brookes. C: Chris Brookes.

Q: What is your favourite drink? D: Amaretto & ginger or beer. C: Asahi or Sapporo Beer.

Q: What is the first thing you do when you get up in the morning? D: Roll my eyes. C: Check my phone.

Q: What is your mental age? D: 12. C: Old maybe!

Q: What new tattoos would you like to get? D: Something on my leg or on my lip. C: Tattoos are a nuisance in Japan so I don't really want any more.

Q: What is the most important electrical appliance you couldn't live without? D: My Iqos. C: Laptop.

Q: If you got one billion yen? D: Run away into the countryside. C: Save it.

Q: If wrestling were to be banned by law tomorrow, what would you do? D: Work at a bar. C: Open a bar.

Q: What is the one thing you can't beat Chris/Drew at? D: Looking pretty. C: Tanning.

Q: What is your fav point of your hometown? D: How calm it is. C: Family.

Q: What is the song you listened to the most often last year? D: The Halloween movie soundtrack. C: NIN - Gave Up.

Q: What is the song you listened to most often of your life? D: Gangam Style through no fault of my own. C: Wakaranaiiii~.

Q: What do you want to try outside of wrestling? D: Bungee jumping. C: Podcasting.

Q: What do you do when you can't sleep? D: That is never an issue. C: Eat.

Q: If you were invisible what would you do? D: Steal natto maki. C: Go to Area 51.

Q: What would you like to see remain in the world forever? D: Nothing. Restart the whole thing. C: Baka Gaijin + Friends.

Q: What is your fav recent purchase? D: Lush body spray. C: Doc Marten!

Q: What is the definition of friend? D: Anybody who doesn't piss me off. C: Drew.

Q: What would you not want to do if you could? D: Pay taxes. C: Ever have to walk anywhere.

Q: Which do you like, hot or cold? D: Hot. C: Hot.

Q: What have you noticed as you've gotten older? D: My body hurts more. C: Nothing is that important or really worth worrying about.

Q: Do you like keeping things tidy? D: For the most part. C: Very.

Q: What made you sad recently? D: Any sip of alcohol. C: Breaking my laptop.

Q: What made you happy recently? D: Any sip of alcohol. C: Fixing my laptop in just one day.

Q: Any comment for Chris/Drew. D: Love you. C: 3 2 1 BAKA~!

[kenllre]

NéiL “La porte du prophete” BAND PROFILE Translation

Another Q&A style band profile from the Key Party fanclub magazine La porte du prophete, this time with Néil! It contains info about the members such as their birthdays, height/weight, favourite food, etc. Once again, thank you to @biologicalslicer​ for scanning the magazine! The link to their post with the scans is here. Read under the cut!

NOTE: I do not speak Japanese and mostly used machine translation, but I’ve done my best to make it as accurate as possible and I’m quite confident in the translation overall since it’s a pretty simple Q&A. (Extra notes are asterisked) Q1. Date of birth - Place of birth

Daisuke: American Independence Day - Wakayama Prefecture

Tetsu: November 16 - Gunma Prefecture

Teruhiko: September 25 - Tokyo

Takuyu: July 13 - Toyama Prefecture

Q2. Blood type

Daisuke: RH+A

Tetsu: B

Teruhiko: B

Takuyu: O

Q3. Height - Weight

Daisuke: 173cm - 55kg

Tetsu: Tiny

Teruhiko: 180cm, a little more - 64kg

Takuyu: 170cm - 55kg

Q4. Eye colour - Eyesight

Daisuke: Black - Contacts

Tetsu: Light brown - Both 1.5

Teruhiko: Black - Bad

Takuyu: Brown - Both 1.0

Q5. Foot size

Daisuke: 26~26.5cm

Tetsu: 25cm

Teruhiko: 27.5~28cm

Takuyu: 26cm

Q6. Favourite brand

Daisuke: Golce

Tetsu: Nothing in particular, but whatever I like. But I am particular about perfume.

Teruhiko: Gaultier and Dirk Bikkembergs

Takuyu: There are so many that I can’t write them

Q7. Self analysis of your personality

Daisuke: Gakincho Daimaou (*Great Demon King)

Tetsu: The difference between light and dark is intense.

Teruhiko: Sarcastic

Takuyu: Simple

Q8. Favourite food

Daisuke: Egg

Tetsu: Rice and something to go with it (like Nori)

Teruhiko: Sushi and yakiniku

Takuyu: Tasty things

Q9. Food you dislike

Daisuke: Natto

Tetsu: Canned asparagus 

Teruhiko: Getemono (*a Japanese word for strange/disgusting food that most people would never eat)

Takuyu: Bad things

Q10. Favourite music 

Daisuke: Many

Tetsu: Most if not all rock

Teruhiko: NeiL

Takuyu: Classic and heavy metal

Q11. Favourite type of woman

Daisuke: Sometimes mature, sometimes childish

Tetsu: A person who shares the same values

Teruhiko: A person who is modest but has his or her own ideas

Takuyu: Ikeike gyaru

Q12. Type of woman you dislike

Daisuke: The not so cute ones

Tetsu: A person who doesn’t share the same values

Teruhiko: Opposite type of the above (*My format may make this answer seem odd, but if you don’t get it, by “the above” he means his answer in Q11)

Takuyu: Secret

Q13. What do you not want in the world?

Daisuke: It’s a food chain... in this world...

Tetsu: Nuclear weapons

Teruhiko: Tetsu in a drunken state (laughs)

Takuyu: Politicans and bullies

Q14. What is death to you?

Daisuke: I won’t know until I die

Tetsu: If you don’t believe in yourself anymore, you’re as good as dead even if you’re alive.

Teruhiko: The end...? The beginning....?

Takuyu: No comment

Q15. On the day the world is destroyed, where will you be and with whom?

Daisuke: Plans are undecided

Tetsu: Sleeping at home with my cat

Teruhiko: Dancing in a circle with all the members!

Takuyu: Eating ramen in Shinjuku

[catncore]

FILL IN WITH DETAILS ABOUT YOUR MUSE AS IF THEY WERE A CHARACTER IN A DATING SIM.

NAME — hanekoma sanae / 羽狛 早苗

PROFESSION — cafe owner ( common route ) / producer of shibuya (true route)

WHERE THEY CAN BE FOUND — more often than not, he is at his shop on cat street. the gamble mechanic of finding him there is the fact the shop is inconsistent with when it's open. you have a higher percentage of the shop being open if you've started a route with joshua with good favorability.

FAVORITE FOOD TYPE — coffee is the easiest item to get ahold of when it comes to hanekoma. the house blend at wildkatz is what will really win you point. the secondary secret food would be natto. in combination, on different encounters giving him both items has a higher likelihood of turning you to the true route rather than a common route.

FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK — he doesn't tend to drink alcohol but beers fine. he'd rather have coffee instead of alcohol.

WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE — he is very firm on the fact it's not a date. that said, more often than not, all the major stops around shibuya and to people watch. of course, its not just people watching for him. you catch him looking past things at things that aren't there. he's also checking his phone a lot but its still a good time. (common route.) should you be lucky enough to unlock the true route, you'll go roof topping to all the best sights in the city.

IDEAL GIFT — you'll have to get to know joshua to know that answer.

HOW MANY DATES UNTIL THEY KISS — on the common route, you don't kiss him. in fact, its easiest to put it that he doesn't look at any of this through a dating lens. he isn't interested. if you push for anything romantic with him, he will politely turn you down, the first time. more than once and you run the risk of him shutting the route down and you won't catch him anywhere for the rest of the playthrough. on the true route, while he still doesn't kiss you on the lips, he will kiss you on the forehead to give you a angels blessing which ups your favorability within shibuya! neat!

TAGGED BY: @cosmama TAGGING: @the-composer , @groovepawn , @hopeful-hugz , @lollipopsandgunshots

[shewhoeatssand]

☠, ▼ and ☯for Kaneki, pls^^

☠️ - angry/violent headcanon!

Oughhh I love Kaneki being angry and violent 🥰🥰 I think sometimes when Shironeki is very emotional, he’ll seek out groups instead of singular ghouls to eat but also to lash out on and toy with a bit. He repeats a lot of the trauma that was inflicted onto him but usually pushes it out of his mind by the next day and can’t recall it. If he finds one guy separate to the rest of the group, he’d break their limbs to keep them from getting away, then go find the rest of the group to kill in front of them if they didn’t answer whatever questions he wanted. Since his mind isn’t there altogether the questions can be about things he doesn’t really need information on, since they’re more to justify the ordeal to himself as an interrogation. Also, whoever he decides to be most pissed at would end up with some serious head damage (sometimes half of it is even missing!!!). At the end he’ll eat everyone’s kakuhous before leaving. Very often I like to imagine him popping into a public bathroom to get changed after this sort of thing, then pop into McDonalds and order a coffee to sip while people watching and having mild thoughts on eating even more :3 he’s so cute sitting there aww I wish he could eat soggy fries too

▼ - childhood headcanon!

Kaneki wrote a lot of stories as a wee lad. When he was living with his mother he’d write a lot of fantasy inspired things about different worlds with dragons and elves. They were very descriptive, and he had a huge imagination! Many were set in the same world which he’d use as a form of escapism. The main character was usually a boy just a bit older than him, who’d kill monsters with spells he learned from books, and receive lots of praise from his family and friends. As he got a little older he gave the boy a lot of his own hardships and had a lot of his friends turn on him for things that were out of his control, then had him forced to kill his own mother. He later felt EXTREMELY guilty about this and tossed out the entire book.

When he moved in with his aunt he wrote memos about the nice things he used to do with his mother and some vent pieces that would get scrunched up or burnt. He took a lot of inspiration from Takatsuki too, and wrote some fanfiction with the characters in another book he guarded with his life. Sometimes he’d even do drawings to match the story and Takatsuki’s real works :) he became a pretty good artist and used his new skill for lots of good things (drawing his and Hide’s “ideal girlfriend” every 2 weeks)

☯️ - Likes/Dislikes headcanon!

OH THIS ONE IS SO FUN

Likes 🥰:

stray cats

tall buildings

home cooking

this one milf librarian he was always too shy to talk to (literally ran away from her before)

sleeping

muted colours

wool

board games

his room

petrichor

his warm sweaters

his blankets

the Takatsuki Fan Forum (his only online activity)

riding his bike

mashed potato

chocolate

this one really old teddy his mama gave him that he pretends he doesn’t need anymore because he knows his mama sucked ass, but still clings to when he’s lonely (Haise was given something similar by Arima when he lost his belongings)

cucumbers

stars

water streams

Dislikes 😔:

bonito flakes (killed his great grandfather)

his cousin Youichi

his grandparents :((((

cramped spaces, or being in a corner

being touched too much

big, loud dogs (got chased once while he was walking home at age 5)

when the murder victims cry out to be saved

warheads

too many pigeons

crowds

big spiders

team sports

his first name

manga (thinks they are for uncultured people who don’t really want to read) (but the horrors are cool sometimes)

social media (can’t understand it well)

natto

committees

a lot of sun

[nitronapalm]

Unprompted Asks!

@heterochromatica asked:

"Bakugo? What do you like for breakfast?" the explosive blonde said that they don't talk often enough to be friend, so he tries to change that....

Well, at least this wasn't some random-ass wierd fuckin' question, it was one he was more inclined to answer. "Traditional Japanese type shit, though for me s'usually mixed rice with natto, tonjiru, spinach salad with sesame dressing, n' salted salmon. Sometimes more protein 'f I need it."

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Gakuto Mukahi

[PROFILE]

Birthday: September 12th (Virgo)

Blood Type: B

Relatives: Father, mother, older sister, younger brother

Father’s Occupation: Appliance store owner

Elementary School: Hyotei Academy Primary School

Middle School: Hyotei Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Third Year | Class 3-D | Seat 24

Club: Tennis Club (regular)

Committee: Athletic Committee

Strong Subjects: Chemistry, English, PE

Weak Subjects: Politics, economics

Most Visited Spot at School: Rooftop

Favorite Motto: “A jump a day.” (a motto he made up for himself in elementary school) ➜ “Flying high over low hurdles.” [TP]

Daily Routines: Messaging his friends (roughly 100 messages a day) ➜ Using messaging apps and social media (roughly 120 messages a day) [TP]

Hobbies: Bungee jumping, collecting feathers and accessories

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Music: Hip-hop

Favorite Movie: Spider-Man

Favorite Book: Shounen manga (sports genre)

Favorite Food: Karaage, natto, Takenoko-no-Sato (chocolate bamboo shoots) [23.5]

Favorite Anniversary: New Year’s Day (since his family’s store is closed)

Preferred Type: An easy-going girl ➜ A girl who will have fun riding roller coasters with him [TP]

Ideal Date Spot: An amusement park (where you can bungee jump) ➜ “The new theme park in Nagoya!” [23.5]

His Gift for a Special Person: Beautiful feathers he’s been saving

Where He Wants to Travel: Macau Tower

What He Wants Most Right Now: “I want wings on my back!” ➜ “To get taller…” [23.5]

Dislikes: Ghost stories, his father, when Hiyoshi leaves his horror books at his house [23.5, removed], horror stories [23.5]

Skills Outside of Tennis: Skateboarding, street dancing, parkour (recently started) [TP]

Spends Allowance On: Hanging out with his friends

[DATA]

Height: 158cm | 5’2”

Weight: 48kg | 105 lbs

Shoe Size: 25cm

Dominant Arm: Left

Vision: 1.5 Left & Right

Play Style: Serve & Volleyer

Signature Moves: Moonsault Volley

Number of Times He Runs Away from Home: 7 times a month

Equipment Brands:

Racket: BRIDGESTONE (Wingbeam M45)

Shoes: K.SWISS (Preventor2000)

Overall Rating: Speed: 4 / Power: 2 / Stamina: 2 / Mental: 2 / Technique: 4 / Total: 14

Kurobe Memo: “His charm lies in his ability to jump high and fast. However, is that really a skill required to win in tennis matches? If he can find the answer, there is no doubt he will rise to great heights as a tennis player. I hope that his form gets stronger while staying beautiful.” <Official Description>

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bag [40.5]:

Feathers he found: He picks up fallen feathers. He sometimes sterilizes them and turns them into accessories

Coin purse with a bird design: He carries a coin purse with him to school instead of a wallet. He likes the weathervane design on the front

A feather accessory: One of many feather accessories he owns. He had bought it on an impulse the other day from a stall at a park he passed by on his way home from school

Half-size notebook: He prefers using a half-sized one so he carries less weight, and he uses it for all subjects. He leaves his textbooks at school, rather than taking them home with him

Mesh pen case: Purchased with its weight in mind as well. It has very few writing supplies in it and he always borrows from his classmates to get by

What’s in His Locker [C&S]:

Feathers

Handmade natto (he keeps it in there): He wants to make natto that even Yuushi will eat. He doesn’t make it at home since he doesn’t want his father to find out

Coupons from Jirou’s family: They’re for the dry cleaning store Jirou’s family owns. It’s easier to get coupons from Gakuto than it is from Jirou