#not as fragile as a flower (sakura)

[icypopz]

holding their hand ♡

↬ notes ; sakura haruka, suo hayato, togame jo, umemiya hajime x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; no one asked for this HAHAHA but i really wanted to write for my silly boys <3 they're literally so fun and cute, this is my first time writing for windbreaker though so i hope the characterisation is okay! a little short & it's drabble style but hope you enjoy :)

↬ warning(s) ; none

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ sakura haruka ! ]

with haruka, you're usually the one that has to initiate physical affection. he definitely wants to hold your hand, it's just that whenever you slip your palm into his and he feels how warm you are, his face turns so red he looks like one of the tomatoes umemiya's growing on the roof. at least that's what suo always loves to tease him and say, which only serves to make haruka threaten to beat him up in the middle of the street. but then he'll remember that you're beside him and he'll settle for giving suo the most intense death glare ever, only to give you a small smile as he turns to you and squeezes your hand ever so gently. haruka always treats you like you're a fragile flower, so he holds your hand with the utmost care and pride, because he's really proud to be able to call himself your boyfriend.

more content utc !

[ suo hayato ! ]

hayato thinks he's so cool. he's so suave, always slipping his fingers between yours when you're walking together until your hands are intertwined without you even realising it. and if you get embarrassed, he'll only smirk and tease you about how you look so cute when you're flustered. he's the type to confidently walk about town swinging your hand with his, telling everyone who asks that you're his partner. i feel like hayato would also wear matching rings with you, and whenever he caresses his ring before a fight it's like he can feel the sensation of your hand in his, and that reminds him that he can't injure his hands or he won't be able to hold you, so he's always extra careful ever since he started dating you.

[ togame jo ! ]

togame likes taking things slow instead of rushing through life, so whenever he holds your hand, you somehow end up feeling like a precious gem that he treasures with all his heart. that isn't actually too far from how he views you, because the way this man holds your hand is so incredibly gentle. even though his hands are rough and calloused, he'll slip his hand into yours and it feels like he's really savouring the moment, enjoying the way your hand fits in his like two puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly. he's sometimes worried that you won't want to hold his hand when his knuckles are bloodied or scraped from fights, but just a press a kiss to his battered knuckles and togame will be putty in your hands.

[ umemiya hajime ! ]

umemiya adores you. it's evident to everyone, from the students at bofurin to the townsfolk, and it's especially obvious in the way that he looks at you. when you hold his hand, his eyes light up like a million stars, and he narrowly refrains from actually jumping up and down like a little kid (hiragi convinces him that's a little too undignified for bofurin's leader). he always ends up unconsciously squeezing your hand when he's excited, or when he's deep in thought, or anytime, really. he just needs that reminder of your presence and it feels like he'll be able to solve any problem that comes his way. whenever he walks you home, umemiya will also always kiss the back of your hand like he's a prince courting a suitor and give you a dramatic goodbye, it's just one of the things you love about him too.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[loves-n-kisses]

Perhaps can I request headcanon with sakura suo and kaji separate with fem reader who is hospitalized because she is sick (remind me when I have to be hospitalized for 2 weeks because I have lung disease) .

Romantic 🤭

UM YESS??? LOVE THE IDEA SM!! (also my first time doing headcannons 😛) Hope you like it!

---

WBK Boys x Hospitalized!Reader

Ft. Sakura, Suo, & Kaji!

Fluff, slight angst?

Headcanons of how they'd be if you were hospitalized.

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Sakura Haruka

sweetly protective.

Sakura’s tough exterior crumbles when he hears you’re in the hospital. He’s a mess of worry and frustration, blaming himself for not noticing you were sick sooner. He rushes to your side, face red with a mix of embarrassment and concern, muttering, “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad, dummy?”

He’s not great with words, so he shows his love through actions.

He's trying, guys. even tho he's a bit awkward with it, we love him.

He brings you a slightly crumpled bouquet of flowers (he picked them up in a hurry and got flustered at the shop) and awkwardly places them by your bed. He’ll sit nearby, fidgeting, but refuses to leave, saying, “I’m not goin’ anywhere until you’re better.”

he'll try to comfort you, but cmon. Its sakura.

When you’re resting, he’ll hesitantly hold your hand, his face turning beet red as he mumbles, “Just… don’t overdo it, okay? I need you back to normal.” If you smile or tease him, he’ll look away, ears pink, but squeeze your hand a little tighter.

stubborn, this kid.

Sakura stays late into the night, even if the nurses scold him. He’ll nap in the chair, arms crossed, waking at the slightest sound to check on you. He brings you snacks (maybe too many) and insists you eat, gruffly saying, “You gotta stay strong, got it?”

Mini oneshot!

The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft beeps of the monitor. Sakura sat in the stiff chair, arms crossed, his face a permanent shade of red as he glanced at you, pale and tucked under the thin blanket. Your fever had finally broken, but you still looked so fragile. He huffed, shoving a plastic bag of snacks onto the table—chips, cookies, anything he’d grabbed in a panic. “You didn’t have to come, Sakura,” you murmured, voice weak but teasing. “I’ll be fine.” “Shut it,” he snapped, then winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… you scared me, okay? Shoulda told me you were this sick.” His mismatched eyes flicked to yours, soft and worried. Hesitantly, he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers trembling as they closed around yours. “I ain’t good at this stuff, but… I’m here. And I’ll keep being here ‘til you’re better. Promise.” You smiled, and his blush deepened as he muttered, “So just… get well, alright, dummy?”

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Suo Hayato

Odly calm?

Suo arrives at the hospital with a serene smile, but his sharp eyes miss nothing—your pale face, the way you wince, everything. He sits gracefully by your bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and says, “You don’t need to worry, my love. I’m here to take care of you.”

This boy is so thoughtful omfg

He brings a small, elegant care package—your favorite tea, a cozy blanket, and a book of poetry or stories to read to you. His voice is soothing as he reads aloud, one hand gently resting on yours, his thumb tracing soft circles to comfort you.

He jokes but he's half serious, so you really have to read every undertone in what he says.

Suo teases you gently to lift your spirits, saying, “You’re breaking my heart, getting sick like this. How am I supposed to enjoy my day without my favorite person by my side?” His sly smile hides the deep worry in his eye, and he’s always ready with a warm cloth or water when you need it.

An anchor for you!

He charms the nurses to let him stay longer, and he’s incredibly attentive—adjusting your pillows, making sure you take your medicine, and watching your every reaction to ensure you’re comfortable. Before you sleep, he whispers, “Rest well. I’ll be right here, always.”

Mini oneshot!

Suo sat by your hospital bed, his usual calm smile in place as he adjusted the soft blanket he’d brought over your shoulders. The room smelled faintly of the chamomile tea he’d brewed, steam curling from a cup on the table. You coughed weakly, and his hand found yours, thumb tracing gentle circles. “You’re breaking my heart, my love,” he teased, his single eye glinting with warmth. “How can I go on without you to brighten my day?” You managed a faint laugh, and he picked up the poetry book, his voice smooth as honey as he read a soft, romantic verse. The words blurred as your eyes grew heavy, and he noticed, setting the book down. Leaning close, he brushed your hair back and whispered, “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here, watching over you.” His fingers lingered on your cheek, a quiet promise in the dim light.

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Kaji Ren

He kinda freaks out? But only those close to him can tell.

Kaji storms into the hospital, headphones around his neck and a lollipop in his mouth, trying to hide his panic. His eyes soften when he sees you, and he pulls up a chair, grumbling, “Tch, you scared the hell outta me. Don’t do that again, alright?”

practical care, babe.

He’s not the mushy type, but he’s practical. He brings a bag with essentials—tissues, a water bottle, your favorite hoodie, and some snacks he knows you like. He’ll glare at the nurses if they try to rush him out, popping a new lollipop in his mouth to stay calm while saying, “I’m staying. Deal with it.”

minor physical affection? he's shy, guys.

Kaji’s not big on PDA, but he’ll sit close, letting you lean against him if you’re tired. He’ll brush your hair back with a rough but gentle hand, muttering, “You look like crap, but you’re still cute, I guess.” If you smile, he’ll look away, a faint blush on his cheeks.

or maybe he's more the type of person to like...pretend you wanted it.

Like he hold your hand and goes, "Here, since you were staring at my hands so much."....you weren't staring at his hands-

protective ofc

He’s fiercely protective, checking in on your symptoms and asking the doctors blunt questions like, “Oi, how long’s she gonna be stuck here? Fix this quick.” At night, he’ll put his headphones over your ears, playing a soft playlist to help you relax, staying by your side until you drift off.

Mini oneshot!

Kaji burst into the hospital room, headphones dangling, a lollipop stick poking from his lips as he fixed you with a sharp stare. You looked small in the bed, pale and tired, and his chest tightened. “Tch, you scared the hell outta me,” he muttered, dropping a bag—your hoodie, a water bottle, and those spicy chips you liked—onto the table. He yanked the chair close, sitting with a huff. “You okay?” he asked, voice gruff as he brushed your hair back, his touch surprisingly gentle. You nodded weakly, and he sighed, pulling his headphones off his neck and sliding them over your ears. A soft, mellow beat filled your senses. “Rest up, alright? You’re still cute, even like this,” he grumbled, cheeks pink as he looked away. He stayed, arms crossed, guarding you through the night.

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note: this took me so long. love kaji!

-made with loves n' kisses! 💋✨

[comesatimecomesashadow]

all we ever look for (drabble)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

.

.

.

tending to his tremendously lengthy tresses is one of your favorite pastimes. meticulously, your fingers lather the shampoo into his long hair — care evident in your actions. you mutter a "is this alright?" when he grunts a little; he cant help but admire how careful you treat him. as if he was made of glass and a fragile thing to be taken care of.

realistically, he had the world at his hands. yet here he was: in a tub of warm water with sakura petals floating about and careful hands in his hair, tending to it as if tending to a delicate flower. he was anything but delicate, but you could care less.

fingernails softly raked the surface of his scalp, a sigh of relaxation uttering from his lips at the touch. he couldn't say he was used to the care you were administering to him currently — yet it was not unwelcome. in fact, it was long overdue.

he found himself thanking your stubbornness to do this.

as the water spilled from the transparent cup to rinse the shampoo from his hair, you spoke soft words; telling him to close his eyes since you didnt want the chemicals to irritate his vision. yet again, you cared for him, treating him as if he was a child.

"what's so funny?" you asked of him, a slight smile on your lips as you poured some of the conditioner into your hands. the liquid dispersed in between the both of your hands before you took his hair in your hands and threaded your fingers through it. you were mesmerized in the simple act of washing his hair for it.

he had so much of it and since you'd never done it for him before, you grew curious as to what it would be like. to your happiness, he accepted your offer (after you begged relentlessly just hours before). he could never say no to you, not truly anyway.

thus, here he was.

the brush went through his hair with ease, safe for a few knots. you realized from experience that the brush was harsh on knots so you took those into your iwn hands and untangled them manually so as to not hurt him. frankly, it amazed him how much you were enjoying this.

of course, he took great of his hair before this. but you somehow blew his own hair-care routine out of the water. "nothing, i just.. why did you beg me to do this? it's a little tedious for you, is it not?" genuinely, he wanted to know your reasoning. this was such an intimate moment, not the same intimacy he's had with you before; it was a different kind of intimacy.

".. i wanted to take care of you." the words were spoken so easily, but the impact they had on him was enough to cause his eyes to widen. it wasn't strange coming from you, but rather.. the ease in which you said felt otherworldly. he wasn't used to this passionate attention.

and while he may never get used to it.. he'll enjoy it while he has you, because despite all the things he can give to you, you still feel a need to give back.

that heart of yours always proved to be too big to fit in you which is why he vowed then to protect it with everything he has.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ . . . m.list

note: i have a thing for long-haired men

[choccorin]

vampire!sakura

tags. sakura haruka x gn!reader

vampire!sakura who rescues you after finding you abandoned in a forest near his manor, he rescues you because he can sympathize with the feeling of being abandoned just because of your appearance.

vampire!sakura who lets you stay in his manor for as long as you like after taking care of your injuries, he lets you treat it like it's your home too.

vampire!sakura who “regains” his humanity after spending time with you. he treats you like his treasure — not in a possessive way — but in a way that he keeps you safe at all times, he always makes sure that you're healthy because he knows how fragile mortals are. not a single treasure can amount to your worth to him, even if they're the greatest treasure of mankind — they're simply worthless to his eyes, because they can never bring him joy like you did.

vampire!sakura who hasn't felt the warmth of the sun in over a hundred years, but can feel his face warm up when he's around you. once he realizes this, he's always clinging to you to feel your warmth, whether it's by holding your hand or wrapping his arms around you.

vampire!sakura who learns how to paint just for you. since cameras still weren't invented, he makes you pose for him so that he can paint you. he wasn't interested in making his own paintings before, but after meeting you, he wants to remember your face. so that when you die, he can look at the paintings and pretend that you're still with him.

vampire!sakura who fills his manor with paintings and things that you loved after your passing. he keeps a garden with your favorite flowers, and he has a rooms dedicated just for you, the paintings that he made and for the little knick knacks you love collecting.

vampire!sakura who doesn't wish to die anymore after meeting you. who else will keep the memories of you if he's dead? he dedicates his life onto keeping you — in his memories — alive.

n. had a thought about vampire! sakura while riding a jeepney home, so here we are.

[ateez-himari]

250403; SEONGHWA'S BIRTHDAY

[NEW UPLOAD FROM HIMARI]

ATEEZ(에이티즈) @/ATEEZofficial

[#히마리] Hwa oppa, happiest of birthdays to your wonderfully bright soul! Every time I fall asleep around you, I can hear you humming to me while brushing my hair to keep the nightmares away 🥰 You massage my ribs before every stage, check my breathing every single day, offer your jacket no matter how cold it might be and even bring me bouquets after every solo stage or achievement. You always treat me like I'm a fragile glass flower that would shatter with the slightest gust of wind, but please know I can stand on my own now thanks to you, so you can rest! I love you so much, I always will, in every shape our souls take you will be my comfort 💕 #ATEEZ #애이티즈

Translated from Korean by Google

10:29pm · 03 Apr 25 · 97K Views 37K Reposts 948 Quotes 71K Likes

Minnie Moe @/bestspotifyplaylistrex Replying to @/ATEEZofficial just thinking about how our maknae was uncomfortable with heels at the beginning so Hwa would be the one to fasten the strap and continues to get on his knees to do that to this day...he takes such good care of her 🥹

GOTTA WORK GOTTA WORK @/lightuptiny Replying to @/ATEEZofficial that's his little baby tiger 😭 i love that we can still see them sleeping together in the green rooms and cars even though she's in a relationship, a dad and his child. also the fact that he's the only one that knows how to put her hearing aid in properly-

sweethwa @/weonfirewihomhae Replying to @/ATEEZofficial Anyone remember when they were given a penalty after losing a game, where they had to hug for one minute and you could see the way Hima melted into his arms? I cry just thinking about it, there was so much sadness in her eyes at the time and it became visible the second they touched, he really is her safe space 🥺

에헴 비헴 에헴 @/ughtannnbang Replying to @/lightuptiny that one time where Hwa was painting around the accident scars and someone edited the clip of her looking up at him with a smile so bright her eyes turned into crescents with the sound "you drew stars around my scars" 🥲 i'm unwell...

mikah @/himaswife Replying to @/ATEEZofficial The way that Hima's laughter from Hwa's most recent story is genuinely so joyful that it made me cry like a baby 😭 I also want someone that will pick up the most beautiful Sakura petals and braid hundreds of them into my hair under a Sakura tree (I genuinely can't, he makes her giggle like a newborn)

Taglist; @prbywoo

[tomboystudio]

Cherry Blossom Branch Design

🌸 Portfolio piece 🌸

This cherry blossom branch design combines traditional Japanese influences with a contemporary monochromatic style. The delicate sakura flowers, buds, and scattered petals create movement across the composition.

Design Details:

Style: Neo-traditional/Japanese inspired

Color palette: Pink/red monochromatic

Medium: Digital illustration

Cherry blossoms (sakura) symbolize the beauty and fragility of life in Japanese culture - a reminder that life is both beautiful and fleeting.

Currently building my portfolio as I pursue a tattoo apprenticeship. Feedback from artists is welcome!

[luvnami]

the wind rises - chapter 1 (all i ever wanted)

notes - this is the beginning of a possibly long fic and series. i was highly inspired by some amazing writers (@/peachdues on tumblr and @/vividlyy on ao3), so please check them out as well. more notes at the end

cw - canon compliant universe, blood

word count - 4.4k+

Japan, 1915

Shinazugawa Sanemi once heard that the sakura flower was a metaphor for human life – breathtakingly beautiful, but equally fragile and transient. The pale flowers only bloomed for fourteen days a year, heralding the start of spring. It seemed half right. About the permanence of life, at least. 

Sanemi was born into a family that understood peace as a concept. His father often abused his mother, stealing her money to buy more alcohol. Sanemi had started odd jobs around the village for as long as he could remember. Carting goods, chopping wood, serving dishes at the soba restaurant down the road. His palms had turned rough and calloused before he was even ten years old. 

Sanemi didn’t resent the life he lived. After all, that was how he was raised and all he had ever known. He carried out his duties as the oldest brother of seven siblings in the Shinazugawa household before he even understood them. When it was daybreak, he would cook rice for the family’s breakfast and head out to deliver letters. When the sun burned its hottest in the afternoon, there were cold bowls of noodles waiting to be dished out to patrons. And after a long day of work, work, and more work, he’d prepare dinner, keep the laundry, set out the futons, and tuck his siblings into bed.

Genya, the second oldest, tried his best to keep up with Sanemi. The one thing he despised most was to be a burden, yet it seemed unavoidable all the same. If he got into a fight with the other village kids, Sanemi would be there to appease them. When he broke a bowl and his father started punching him in places it hurt the most, his mother protected Genya with her own body.

Genya would toddle after Sanemi’s in his footsteps, doing similar work and helping out at home, though it often felt that Genya never quite measured up to the same standard that he held Sanemi to. He was perfect in Genya’s eyes. He wasn’t as clumsy, twice as hardworking, never complained, and was kinder than anyone else in the world. Sanemi rarely smiled. But when he did, Genya saw their mother’s gentleness shine from his eyes. 

So Genya kept doing what he did best – living in his brother’s shadow. After all, once their father had died, it was their job as the oldest males in the family to represent and protect the rest. The least he could do was to support Sanemi with all his might and keep their promise.

“The two of us must protect the family, now that dad is dead.”

It was a cool autumn evening, just a few short months ago when Sanemi had said that. The brothers were towing cargo in exchange for rice. The streets bustled with housekeepers running the last of their errands for the day, and people heading to the communal bathhouse. 

“It’s a relief that he’s gone now, but everyone will be hopeless without a father figure. We’ll protect mom and everyone else, alright? Not just from now on, but just like we always have.”

Genya had been surprised at the maturity that came from Sanemi. He wondered back then, though his shoulders ached at the weight of the goods he carried, if those words were appropriate of a young boy that had barely reached the cusp of adolescence, thrust too early into a life of responsibility. There was some sort of inferiority that muddled his feelings, but a sense of respect at the same time. 

Genya found himself incapable of replying to his brother. All he could do was nod dumbly, and Sanemi smiled that precious smile of his. 

Although the Shinzuagawa family had seven children, you were perhaps their eighth sibling. You were no stranger to them, living a few houses down from their own. You were an only child of the couple that owned the soba restaurant Sanemi regularly helped out at. You obviously didn’t remember it too well, but your mother mentioned that she would take care of you and the Shinazugawa brothers while their mother was at work. 

You, Sanemi and Genya  grew up in the restaurant, chasing each other around tables and bothering your father to no end for more snacks. Your earliest memories were of Sanemi tripping over his own feet and tumbling to the ground. Tears had spilled down his round cheeks as you tried to comfort him, though to no avail as he sobbed and sobbed. He earned a little scar on his right knee, an oddly shaped thing smoother than the rest of the surrounding skin.

While Sanemi grew out of it, Genya was naturally quite a sensitive boy. He had always been one to cry easily: whether he had bumped against the corner of a table a little too roughly, or even if Sanemi wandered away into another part of the restaurant by himself. Genya would chase his older brother down, struggling to keep up as he urged his chubby little toddler legs to move faster, only to realise he couldn’t keep up and cry anyways. 

The only way Genya would ever stop crying was if Sanemi hugged him tightly, soothing him with mumbles that it would be okay, that Genchan was a big boy, wasn’t he? That Genchan’s okay, Genchan’s all okay…

“Poor boy,” your mother had once muttered. “Such a broken family, but Sanemi tries his best.”

Broken? You knew that Sanemi failed to think of his family as such. Though his blood father was certainly abusive, the Shinazugawas loved each other dearly. His father was more of a separate entity from the term ‘family’; a man who happened to live under the same roof.

Regardless, you admired Sanemi. You liked the grin he would flash you when no one else was looking, and the way he gave you the larger piece of mochi when your mother gave you snacks to share. He worked harder than anyone else you knew just to make sure his brothers and sisters had enough to eat. 

“Micchan,” you whispered, prodding his back with your finger.

“Hmm?” 

Sanemi looked over his shoulder at you. He had the prettiest eyes of violet wisteria and hair the colour of snow. From young, you always envied the colour of his eyes, wanting your own to be purple so badly that you ate an incredible amount of purple sweet potato and threw up from it. 

Sanemi carried a trayful of empty bowls, trotting over to the back of the restaurant. There was already a bucket full of water and a stack of dirty dishes and utensils ready for him to clean. 

“Wanna go for a walk later?” 

You followed Sanemi. The dinner rush had begun to die down, and the last few customers had left for the day. Once the dishes were clean, Sanemi was free to go. The boy placed the tray of bowls next to the others and sat down on a rickety stool. 

There was still some time before the sun set, where he would have to return home and cook dinner for his siblings. Their mother worked the night shift at an izakaya next to the soba restaurant, so dinner duty usually was Sanemi’s responsibility. Maybe he could squeeze in a short walk. The sakura trees had started to bud; they would be pretty in the evening light, and Sanemi wanted to see them with you. 

“Let’s finish this up first, alright?” he smiled.

“Yay!”

In a fit of childish excitement, you urged Sanemi to wash the dishes quicker. The faster he finished washing them, the sooner it meant you could go on your little adventure together. He laughed as you flicked dirty water at him, elbowing you out of his way. 

It took the better part of an hour for the both of you to clear the stack of dishes. But once you were done, you were free at last. You grabbed Sanemi’s hand. 

“Let’s go, Micchan!”

Although winter was about to end, the sting of cold air still bit at your exposed face. You raced through the village, straw sandals kicking up dirt on the beaten path. Sanemi yelled at you to slow down as he tried to keep up with your pace. You knew he lacked any aggression in his tone from the light laugh that erupted from him. It was a pleasant, clear sound, like the tinkling of a furin wind chime in the summer wind. 

Something in your chest skipped a beat and the air was torn from your lungs. 

Your shoulders heaved with each gasp for air when you finally made it to the edge of the village, where the largest sakura tree was. A few smaller trees had been planted around them in recent years, but had yet to grow to the same size as the oldest one. It was about thirty shaku in height, with a trunk so wide you could hardly imagine your arms wrapping around it fully. 

A thick shimenawa made of rice straw encircled the tree, paper shide attached to it. Your father had once said that the tree was home to a great spirit and the villagers took very special care of it. They would often come and pray to the tree for good luck. Its branches were heavily laden with pink and white flowers. A faintly sweet scent wafted through the air, and you found yourself craning your neck to get a good look at the flowers. 

Sanemi stood a short distance away from you. His eyes widened at the spectacular sight, the tree larger than he had ever remembered. It was as if he was an ant, and the tree before him was a tall, tall wall. Sanemi’s breath was stuck in his throat. There was some sort of overwhelming emotion that washed over him like a crashing wave. In the setting sun, the flowers seemed to glow mystically in shades of orange and red, and you seemed so small and frail in comparison to the towering tree. 

Sanemi felt something burning in his chest. It was as if someone had placed a piece of charcoal in his ribcage, smoking his lungs out and searing his flesh. 

“It’s huge!” you cried out. 

Sanemi nodded, silent. He struggled to find any words at all as that emotion continued to oppress him, staggering his ability to form a single coherent thought. 

A petal fell from the tree. It drifted, floating this way and that as the wind tickled its softness. Sanemi’s eyes followed its indistinct descent. It spun and spun and spun, oblivious to his stare, finally coming to a gentle rest atop your shoulder. 

The knots loosened themselves and water gushed like a rushing stream. The heaviness in Sanemi’s chest disappeared in an instant and he took a sudden, deep breath. Everything fell still for that one split second. Then his feet moved five steps closer to you, crossing the distance, and the tips of his fingers brushed the petal off your shoulder. 

The world was bathed in gold. 

-

Sanemi tried not to think too much about the sakura tree that night. Despite his best efforts, the scene of the petal replayed again and again in his mind. It was something that seemed to lack any real meaning, and he was confused as to why he seemed to be so struck by it. Sanemi turned over in his futon for the nth time that night. 

The house was quiet, save for the occasional snore from one of his siblings. Sanemi’s eyes opened in the darkness. He briefly saw nothing, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, the outlines of the ceiling beams and hanging lantern were more apparent. 

His mother was not home yet. 

It was late, though Sanemi was not sure how late. Their mother was usually home a handful of hours after the younger ones had been ushered into their futons, and Sanemi had been ruminating on that heavy feeling in his chest and stupid sakura petal for far too long. Something was off. 

There was a rustle near him. Sanemi turned his head, and Genya sat up in the dark room. Perhaps he, too, found the absence of their mother strange. 

“Genya?” Sanemi called out softly.

His younger brother jumped, then turned to look at Sanemi. 

“Aniki?”

“You’re worried about mom, right?”

Genya felt his face flush warmly. He was glad for the darkness that concealed the redness that spread across his cheeks in blotches. He nodded firmly.

“I’ll go out and look for her,” Genya said. 

Sanemi pushed the covers to his feet and sat up.

“No, I’ll go.”

“But-”

“We promised, remember? That we’ll take care of the house? I’ll go, you keep watch over the others.”

Genya paused, then smiled bashfully. Truth be told, he was awfully scared of the dark, and there was a sort of relief that tucked away his fears when Sanemi said that. Genya knew it was a childish fear. He would never be a proper man if he was scared, but for that moment, Sanemi had offered to go in his stead because Genya was his younger brother, and Genya let his capable older brother protect him once more. 

Genya watched as Sanemi grabbed his haori, pulling it over his arms. The shoji door opened quietly, then closed without a sound. 

Perhaps Sanemi was obligated to protect Genya because he was older. But who would protect Sanemi? Their father had been rather useless in that regard, and their mother was doing her best to raise the other five young ones. In fact, Genya often felt that she relied on Sanemi too much, but who else could she depend on either? It was an endless cycle of defeat in every way Genya looked at it. 

“Nii-chan?” 

Genya turned towards the sound. His siblings all peeked out of their futons, rubbing their eyes sleepily. The youngest one, Sumi, yawned as she crawled over to Genya. 

“Are you all worried about mom too?”

They nodded in unison.

“It’s alright, Sanemi went to look for her. They’ll both be home soon, so let’s just rest and wait,” Genya assured.

Sumi sat herself in her older brother’s lap and buried her face in his chest. Genya stroked her soft hair gently, lulling her back to sleep. 

Meanwhile, Sanemi stalked the streets. He took the familiar path to the izakaya, one that he had walked countless of times. The air was eerily still. All Sanemi had was the faint moonlight to guide his steps, rocks and dirt crunching under his sandals. 

It took him a few minutes to reach his destination. No light shone through the shoji doors, though there was still a sign on the outside that signalled that they were open for business. 

“Mom?” Sanemi called out. “Are you there?”

There was a soft rustle from within. The hair on the back of Sanemi’s neck prickled uneasily, but he was determined to find his mother. He took a step closer to the doors. 

A loud noise, the sound of wooden stools and tableware crashing to the floor, made Sanemi jump. He pulled an outstretched hand back just a dark blur burst out of the izakaya, pouncing on him.  

The wind was knocked out of Sanemi instantly. He crashed to the ground with a strangled cry, sharp pain shooting across his face. The thing growled and its hot breath fanned across Sanemi’s face unpleasantly. It reeked with the stench of blood.

Its claws dug into his shoulders in an attempt to pin its prey down, though the creature sniffed Sanemi cautiously before recoiling with an angrier sound. It stood on its two hind legs, swaying from side to side drunkenly. There was only one thought in Sanemi’s mind: that he was dead. 

“Hey, who’s making such a ruckus!” someone yelled.

Sanemi turned his head, watching as your father came out of the soba restaurant. No, he wanted to scream. Run! 

The thing swivelled its head towards your father. It moved so quickly that Sanemi saw nothing but a dust cloud where it had been in front of him. There was a shout as it clawed his head off his neck. Two thumps resounded through the street in time with Sanemi’s frenzied heartbeat, then- silence. His heart pounded in his chest. He barely had time to recognise what was going on as the creature dove into the restaurant. 

You looked up from the counter where you had been wiping dishes dry. Your family had been preparing to open the restaurant for dawn. However, there was a strange noise coming from outside the restaurant, so your father stepped out to see what was happening. 

“Mom?”

A shadow tackled your mother to the ground, just across the restaurant from where you were standing. You froze. The stack of dishes she had been carrying to you crashed with her, glazed ceramic shattering into a thousand pieces. She opened her mouth to scream. But all that came out was a gurgle of fresh blood that bubbled from her lips, then her limbs fell limp. 

You wanted to move, to do anything else but stand still like a sitting duck. It was if your feet had turned into lead, because no matter how much you willed yourself to run, you stood rooted in the exact same spot.

Sanemi struggled to his feet, gasping as hot blood gushed down the right side of his face. He wiped what he could out of his eyes with the back of his hand. His entire body was shaking terribly, from some sick mix of pain, adrenaline, and fear. Sanemi rushed into the restaurant, ducking his head below broken bamboo and torn shoji. 

The creature bit into your mother’s corpse at the junction between her neck and shoulder. It made odd, animalistic noises as it bit and tore at the flesh, fresh blood spilling over its clawed hands. Your mother’s dull eyes gazed at nothing like a dead fish,. 

In the dim light that lit up the restaurant, Sanemi realised. No, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be. His stomach dropped endlessly into a pit as bile burnt the back of his throat. 

The creature had its black hair pulled back in a neat updo, though strands surrounding its face had fallen loose, framing skin that was paler than moonlight. Its purple eyes were bloodshot. Most important of all, however, was the lilac kimono that it wore. The same exact kimono that Sanemi’s mother wore everyday. 

“Mom?”

The demon growled, though not in response to Sanemi. It was nearing dawn and there was no time left to waste. It dropped your mother’s corpse from its hands as if she was spoiled food. She laid on the ground like a forgotten toy, blood pooling around her body. Mouth still dripping with blood, the demon shot out of the restaurant and down the street. 

“Micchan?” 

Your voice quavered. Tears spilled from your eyes as you turned to look at Sanemi, shoulders shaking when a choked sob finally escaped your lips. You immediately clamped a hand over your mouth. You could not understand what had just happened. Your parents had been alive and laughing with you just a minute ago, and now their bodies were yours to bury.

Sanemi reached out for the cleaver on the table that your father had been using to cut fresh soba noodles. The metal blade had a heavy heft to it, and Sanemi wrapped his fingers firmly around the handle. 

“Stay here and hide. I’ll be back for you,” he ordered. 

Sanemi took off in the direction where the demon had run. He swung his arms and legs in tandem, sweat beading on his hairline. Despite the pain that stung his face and the confusion that welled inside of his heart, Sanemi kept running. One thing he knew, at the very least, was that the demon was moving towards his home, and that the family he had sworn to protect was in danger. 

Genya had barely begun to drift off to sleep when there was the pitter-patter of footsteps outside the front door. 

“Mom!” his siblings cried joyously. 

They rushed towards the door, arms outstretched to welcome their mother home. 

“Wait!” Genya shouted. “That might not be-”

It all happened in slow motion. There was the sound of wood splintering, then the smell of copper. Genya’s siblings flew through the air as they were thrown back from the impact, almost like string puppets. Their small bodies fell back onto the futons with dull thuds. The light in the house was snuffed out and the room was doused in darkness, rendering Genya’s vision useless. A stray piece of wood flew into his face and he recoiled from the pain. Genya threw a hand over his face in shock, the other cradling Sumi into his chest

A dark shadow with shining eyes hung in a corner of the ceiling. The children were silent, their injuries bleeding freely as they lay in a heap. Genya felt an immense dread as he locked eyes with the shadow. He had to make sure the rest were safe, then he had to protect Sumi, then, then- Then what? Call a doctor? Where was Sanemi? Where was their mother? 

Genya’s breath came fast and quick. It was a wolf that had come out of hibernation and was hungry for fresh meat – he was sure of it. 

Nii-chan. 

Genya squeezed his eyes shut. If only Sanemi was here, his brave older brother would certainly know what to do. If only Genya was more like Sanemi. If only Genya could be Sanemi. 

“Genya!” 

His eyes flung themselves open as the wolf jumped at him with a snarl. But there was no impact at all, as Sanemi threw himself in front of Genya. Sanemi crashed into the side of the house, tumbling out of it with the wolf. 

“Genya! Run!”

There was a moment of relief as Genya gasped in shock. His brother had come to save them after all! But Sumi let out a little sigh, then fell limp and cold in Genya’s arms. 

“Sumi? Sumi! Shuya! Teiko! Hiroshi! Koto!” his pleas for his siblings were unanswered. “Put pressure on your wounds, I’ll call a doctor right away!”

Genya's hands shakily hovered above the bodies of his siblings as he laid Sumi next to them. His eyes darted nervously around the dim room. The stench of blood made Genya want to vomit, but he knew that he had to do something other than gawk and panic. He stumbled over to the broken front door, grabbing what remained of the doorframe to keep himself upright. 

Outside, Sanemi gripped the cleaver in his hand tightly as the demon howled in pain. It scrabbled for purchase on the ground, trying to pull itself upright and fight its prey. Its leg was twisted in a strange way from the impact of the fall. With a strained groan, the demon squirmed and gasped in an attempt to heal its broken limb. 

Sanemi squared his shoulders. He grasped the cleaver till his knuckles turned white, yet there was a flicker of despair prevented him from finishing the kill. 

Sanemi. 

His mother’s voice called to him gently. If he thought about it long enough, Sanemi could picture her small hand cupping his cheek, pressing their foreheads together. 

Sanemi, you have such beautiful eyes.

Her laugh was gentle, like the tickle of a summer breeze on his hot face. 

The demon screeched, a terrible noise that made Sanemi want to drop the cleaver and cover his ears. 

Sanemi, you’re the firstborn, so everyone relies on you. I’m sorry. 

Sanemi’s throat tightened. The skin of his hands screamed in pain as the cleaver’s handle dug into it uncomfortably, yet he did not let go. Sanemi had to protect the rest of his family. He had to; otherwise he was not a good son or brother. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, until all he saw was the vague afterimage of the demon on the back of his eyelids. 

Sanemi gritted his teeth, then brought the hilt of the cleaver down on the demon's head with all his strength. 

The demon fell silent.

“Nii-chan?”

Sanemi stood still. He did not respond, open eyes staring blankly at his mother’s body by his feet. Her eyes had fallen shut, and it seemed almost as if she was asleep. The tear in the hem that Sanemi had stitched together a week ago had been ripped open again. Blood stained her kimono in a contrasting scarlet, though Sanemi didn’t want to know whose blood it was. All he wanted was his mother back.

“Mom? Mom!” 

Genya ran towards her body, tears bubbling up from his eyes. He fell to his knees as he cradled her in his arms. Her body was oddly heavy, and she did not respond to her son as he screamed and shook her as hard as he could.

“Why did you kill mom! Ah! Mom!” Genya shrieked. “Murderer! Murderer!”

Sanemi’s grip finally faltered and the cleaver clattered next to his feet. 

You crept out of the restaurant on pure instinct. Although Sanemi had said that he would come back for you, something tugged at you to look for him and Genya. The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon. Its golden rays began to creep upon the land, and the cry of a rooster rang across the village. You hurried along the path as panic rose in you when you heard Genya’s wails. You finally saw the Shinazugawa brothers, one on his knees and the other standing, both bathed in swaths of burning orange light. 

Sanemi’s stare met yours. Tears finally fell from his wide eyes, hot and fast. The light of day shone bright and white, and he momentarily wondered why the sun had lost its colour. There were no words for him to explain his sin. His mouth fell open without a single sound, wishing for something, for someone to help him. 

Genya’s cries continued to ring out as the village began to wake from their slumber. 

Some sort of sense must have finally returned to Sanemi. He jolted violently, as if someone had shoved him in the chest. He blinked once, then twice, then turned on Genya and sprinted away.

You watched his figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance till he became no smaller than an ant, melting into the sunlight.

notes - for more context to this chapter, please read demon slayer light novel 2 (one-winged butterfly), chapter 4. action scenes aren't my strongest point, so hopefully this chapter wasn't too much of a drag >< i would really appreciate any comments/tags on the fic, they're really motivating and i know this fic will be a huge challenge for me (after not writing for about 2 years). i'm still contemplating on how to continue the next chapter and the rest of the fic, so please look out for more updates!!

[thelunarfairy]

The Symbolism Behind the Camellia

You've certainly seen these flowers, haven't you?

Yes, they are everywhere, so I did a little research into their meaning, and yes, there are several. So I chose to talk about the meanings that are most repeated, not only in the West, but in the East as well.

Before we start talking about meanings, let's talk about the types of camellia, in fact, the colors. These are: red, pink, white, purple and yellow.

Let's remember when these flowers tend to appear more frequently

Hanako and Yashiro

Hanako and Tsukasa

Okay, but what difference does it make?

Let me tell you the meaning of flowers and their colors

White Camellia Flower Meaning – The white camellia flower symbolizes adoration and admiration.

Red Camellia Flower Meaning - Red camellia flowers symbolize true love, passion and empathy.

Pink camellia flower meaning – The pink camellia flower symbolizes love for someone and also the feeling of missing them.

Purple Camellia Flower Meaning – Purple camellia flowers symbolize love, devotion and admiration for loved ones.

Yellow Camellia Flower Meaning – The yellow color of the camellia symbolizes care, passion and love.

Among these three, the flowers that appear most frequently are red, true love, passion and empathy. If we consider that it is related to Hanako and Yashiro, this does not surprise us, but it is also related to the twins.

The red flowers weren't the only ones that appeared between the two.

On Tsukasa's side we see purple, pink and white flowers, they seem to have more "healthy" meanings for common brothers, while on Hanako's side, there are still red flowers, love and passion, there are also white ones, that is, there is something mutual between them.

Followed by this, we have cherry blossoms (Sakura), which means beauty, femininity, love, happiness, renewal and hope. They are also associated with Tsukasa, as if to mention that he is "feminine or fragile"

The flower also means renewal and rebirth, which would also fit well with Tsukasa.

In fact, it's very interesting that the twins' panels and Sumire's panels with Hakubo are in parallel. The owners of the yorishiros looking at them from above, and the yorishiros looking at them from below, while there are cherry blossoms representing their fragility, femininity, the power of renewal and rebirth, as mentioned before.

Regarding the "happiness and hope" part, it's difficult to associate with Tsukasa and Sumire, because there is no more happiness in them, if there ever was, and about hope, I don't need to go on and on to say that they both no longer have it. no hope about anything, not just them, but Hanako too.

It's very interesting how Aidairo likes symbolism, and how well they fit into the general context. Flowers represent a very important part of how the characters feel, of course none of this is certainty, but speculation is important to try to understand them better.

[therantfairysblog]

The box that carrying a hope.

✍️ note: haaa this is pure fanfiction. As Shinazugawa canonically has descendant in the future, he perhaps meeting his destined wife not long after. I'm imagining a situation like this!

He was carrying the box, across the middle of the flower field, towards the vast blue sea. The sky was nice, the breeze, and colourful bids play along.

In his hand, aside from the box was the will, his friend specifically wrote for him.

"Burn it. After i die, let it burn far away from here, if it possible, somewhere pretty. Sea, mountain. I'm so sorry for make it difficult for you. If we met somewhere again, I'll bought a lot of ohagi"

'the hell man, what do you think i am'. Stopping in front of the beautiful sea, he take a breath and sit, starring at the box containing a whole lot of love letters, he was bitterly smile.

"Iguro was in love" Himejima picking out some stick he used while training, along with some of kakushi, Shinazugawa who visiting the stone hashira that evening just sitting there with his crow.

"i can't believe it. That cold man is... oh wow"

"I hope you will found one too" himejima smiling at him, teasing. Shinazugawa face was reddening.

"what?? Ah nevermind relationship I don't really care about that"

.....

"What the hell, Iguro" Shinazugawa sipping his tea while eating his ohagi. Watching his in disbelief.

Beside Iguro, a medium sized box containing various letters from Kanroji was there. His friend was adding another one to the box.

"What?" Iguro realized he was being watched.

"are you really in love with her? Like Himejima san said?" He was starring at his friend.

"...." just nodding his head, Iguro didn't deny. What's there to deny on?

"oh wow! So you two in?"

"No- I'm not confessed or planning to do so"

Iguro was walking back towards his room, to keep the box back. He was cleaning up the surface with a clean rug, putting it's behind his japanese desk. Shinazugawa just staring.

....

The sea breeze was so comforting. He was alone that day. Him and the box. Just last week he trusting Kanao with Kaburamaru. To be honest, he felt like he couldn't take care of that little serpent as much as Iguro did.

Slowly he light up the lighter. Opening the box, various colourful letters were there, it's about hundred of them. All was keeping in order of the date. In front of letters were Iguro's name engraved in Kanroji's writing with a little drawing of sakura in there.

To Shinazugawa, Iguro is quite person yet strictly live and dwell in his unforgiven guilt he built around himself. A strict yet soft, a sensitive yet admirable protector. A loyal and a great friend.

The fire slowly eating up the things that make his friend happy, in the world that unforgivable to both of them, Iguro found solace in the beauty and the kindness of Kanroji. Him? Shinazugawa wasn't sure. His life probably numbered anyway.

'I hope you found someone too' when Himejima smile towards him, he though the eldest hashira were just teasing him. Eventually he know what he mean by that.

'Shinazugawa, i mean it. Find your own happiness in whatever form, if one day,your were destined to survive through all this. I hope you can be more gentle with yourself. You are kind person, Shinazugawa" Himejima talking that day played in his head like a movie roll. He sighed. The letters turned into ashes, flying freely in the air.

'Thank you, Shinazugawa, please live.' Hallucinations? He didn't know but he could feel Iguro's present, the friend he always have a conversation and sparring together. Drop of tears was flowing, unknowingly crashing his already fragile wall within him.

" i...."

"i want to live.." he whispered.

......

The walk towards his home, his old home, the home were the tragedy occured feel long yet peaceful. The home that used to fill with his siblings laughter, and the memories of them hiding behind their petite mother from their dad were playing in his head. Bittersweet? He thought.

He wasn't aware of the surrounding, his head was full of his memory playing like a background music.

"Ouchhh!!" A little jolt and a voice from a young woman, approximately his age too shocked him. She was carrying a whole tray of ohagi when he bumped into her, causing it to fall all over the street.

Shinazugawa perplexed.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I'll help" he was trying to put the now inedible ohagi into the tray. The woman was beautiful, he thought. Her soft skin, slightly tanned with long eyelashes did something to him. He was stunned before he continued helping her.

"it's alright ..but this is...my only tray of ohagi to sell for my mother's medicine..oh mother I'm sorry!" There were a little crack in her voice. Shinazugawa feel guilty.

"Miss... I'll try to replace it"

The woman looked at him. She wasn't even mad, yet her eyes were in tears. She didn't answer, it was apparent that she probably didn't trust him.

"i know how to make ohagi, i can try to sell it and help you"

The two were eventually agree. Shinazugawa bringing the tray back with the woman towards her home.

"I'm Shinazugawa, living not far from here, i hope we can keep contact so i can help selling the ohagi"

"I'm Shizouka. Is this okay? I don't want to burden-"

"It's alright. I'm fine, i do like Ohagi too"

The two exchanging letters, with both of them sharing recipe for their ohagi and mochi. Without he realizing it, their correspondence were continuing just like that.

And just like Iguro, now he personally has a little medium letter box, that he cared very much.

[transientbloom]

Cherry blossoms are always the first to float away—fleeting, beautiful, and inevitable. Just like her.

Is she content?

No. Not now. Not anymore.

But once—once, contentment was real.

It lived in the quiet nights when Rin would tug at her sleeve, small fingers clutching fabric like an anchor against the dark.

“Please stay,” she would whisper, voice trembling with the threat of nightmares, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, knowing well it was she who had gone against her big sister’s advice that a late-night horror film would only make sleeping difficult.

And Sakura would. She would keep the lights on for the night, because Rin insists it so. And she would slip under the covers with her sister, let her cling to her even if the summer evening was too hot for comfort. Because what else mattered more than this?

It lived in the rare, stolen days—like when Rin, cheeks puffed with too much parfait at once, shuddered from brain freeze, whining in protest before dissolving into laughter. Sakura had laughed too, then, the sound strange and warm in her throat.

Those moments are gone now. Not lost, not truly—she carries them still, pressed between her ribs like petals in a book. But they are no longer hers to live. Only to remember.

Does she regret?

Yes.

Not for the path she walked, nor for the blood on her blade—those were inevitable. But for the moments she didn't cherish enough. The mornings she woke too late, the evenings she left too soon. She should have held Rin's hand tighter. Should have memorised the way her sister's nose scrunched when she laughed. Should have stayed, just a little longer, every single time.

But regret is a blade that cuts both ways. And so she bears it, as she bears all things—with silence.

Does she consider herself strong?

Not in the way the world measures strength.

True strength is not in the swing of a sword, nor in the enemies felled. It is in the stillness after. In the way she does not scream when grief claws at her throat. In the way she sheathes her blade, before kneeling on one knee to leave blue flowers behind, each one a silent funeral. For the lives taken. For the pieces of herself buried with them.

True strength is in the way she does not let the blood on her hands harden into indifference, even when many may come to think that she is.

In the way she honours even those she was forced to cut down, leaving behind not just bodies, but flowers—tiny, fragile things that say:

I remember you.

I remember what this cost.

Sakura mourns.

She mourns for every life taken, for every fragment of herself lost in battle. And yet—she does not stop. Does not waver. Because this was what was demanded of her, and she answered.

That is her strength. And her sorrow.

What about her, then?

What will she be remembered for?

Not as a hero. Not as a martyr. Perhaps not even as a sister.

But Sakura hopes that someone will remember her as a woman who, despite the agony of loss, refused to let hatred take control of her. Who stood at the edge of oblivion and chose, in the end, to keep her promise—not to the world, not to vengeance, but to the memory of a girl who believed in something better.

Cherry blossoms are always the first to float away—fleeting, beautiful, and inevitable.

[belit0]

Modern Mafia au

Fuyumi and Raizen with Ame taking a stroll in the private park of the Uchiha neighborhood?

BACK TO OUR RAIZEN FUYUMI AGENDA

The park was calm that afternoon, its winding paths dusted with petals from the late-blooming sakura trees.

The kind of day that made everything feel slower, quieter.

It was the sort of quiet Raizen liked—no brothers, no shouting, no running errands or watching his father walk down the hallways like a storm waiting to break.

Just Ame, skipping ahead with twigs in her hands.

And Fuyumi, walking beside him with her sleeves pulled over her hands, gaze flickering between the gravel path and the wind shifting the trees.

They hadn’t said much.

But they didn’t need to.

Ame’s voice broke the quiet.

-Mama says boys act different when they like someone,- she said, not looking back as she balanced on the edge of a stone border. -Like… they get all serious and stop talking so much. Even more than usual. Like Raizen does sometimes.-

Fuyumi’s eyes shifted toward him for a second, almost nervously, then dropped back to the path.

Raizen didn’t respond.

-And mama says when someone makes you nervous, it’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s because your heart is trying to talk but your mouth gets stuck.- She jumped off the stone ledge and spun once before skipping ahead again.

Still no sound from him.

Just the soft scuff of his shoes against the gravel, his hands deep in his pockets.

Fuyumi glanced at him—quickly, barely a turn of her head.

Then just as quietly, she murmured,

-Your little sister says sweet things.

Raizen didn’t look at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

-She listens too much.- His voice came out lower than usual.

Not annoyed—just quiet. Careful.

Ame was now crouched near a bench, whispering to a flower like it was telling her secrets.

Fuyumi’s hands tightened slightly in her sleeves.

-I… understand what she means.- she said, almost a whisper. -Sometimes it’s hard to say things. Even if you want to.-

The pause that followed was long.

But not awkward.

Just… fragile.

Like if either of them moved too quickly, it might break.

Raizen nodded slowly.

-Yeah. Me too.

Ame suddenly stood up, brushing her skirt off with dramatic flair. -Mama says you can feel things and not say them out loud. But it’s nice when people say them anyway.-

Raizen exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh.

Fuyumi gave a soft nod, her cheeks tinged pink.

-Come on,- Raizen murmured, gently steering her toward a quieter trail, one where the branches hung low and filtered the sunlight in soft gold.

Ame trailed behind them, quiet for once, twirling her flower.

And though neither Fuyumi nor Raizen said anything more, they both walked a little closer than before.

[koushirouizumi]

Digimon Adventure 02 ~ A.M.V. {Anime Music Video} Title: “Kocchi wo Muite” {“Look This Way”} Sung by: Yukana Nogami Music © CLAMP / Kodansha (Originally from: Cardcaptor Sakura) Featuring Duo/Ship/O.T.P: + {Daikari} / {DaiHika} (with equal Hikari<->Daisuke P.O.V's, though leaning a bit more in Hikari->Daisuke focus) [+Bonus Ken, 02 Chosen as Support; Taichi & Hikari as Platonic/Familial/Supporting each Other]; {KenDai(+Miya)Hika can be read in; However, the main focus of this one is Daikari specifically, with KenDaiHika as side Poly!}

Summary:

“Although you show COURAGE, YOU’VE{?} got it Backwards A {maiden}[?]’s Heart is {fragile} and Trying…”

“Throughout all of the {xxxx} WE’RE Invincible”–

Digimon Adventure 02 © Toei Animation A.M.V. by Me No $$$ is being made off this Fanwork

Notes: - The 1st minute took about 45 min; 2nd part made took about just over 2hr’s; The 3rd+4th parts from interlude on took 35~ min each, Altogether, it's already taken 3~4+ hr's. - This is my 08/02 Focus work, for August 2nd anniversary of Adventures timeline! (by August 2nd, Vamdemon's invasion of Odaiba had Begun) Daisuke, who was initially captured inside the same center as Odaiba convention center Vamdemon kept Tailmon trapped in; just might have come across a Certain Person (or two) Near this and the following exact Day{s}... (Alluding to Daisuke's official Drama CD audio Track from "Digimon Adventure 02: Spring 2003"!) - This A.M.V. is overall a Standalone work. (It is not directly involved with my other work); However, it can be considered a work For the storyline that’s a precursor to Repeat-verse, which came before that story was conceived!) Therefore, it can be watched as a Standalone! - I reused a part of an older edit for the earliest Tri P.V.; (for timing placements) it had an old subtitle on, but I’ll remove that for the finished version! - (There is a moment of Hurricane Touchdown!Taichi for Timing) {As it works for my fan-‘verse, I left it in, with a bonus by end!} However, the work is overall/near-wholly 02-focused (so far)! - There is a small amount of out-of-context scenes, However, they’re meant to overall parallel the lyric{s} on-screen. - There is a single Tri spoiler from Kyousei; involving the character of "Homeostasis", that (mind)-possesses Hikari briefly in Adventure Ep. 45 previously. {"Gennai" [Tri] can also be seen for some short seconds} - Major handful of "The Beginning" sequel spoilers by ending; However, it's all actually immediately Pre-Final battle. (The Digimon in final battle can be seen Clearly, +Rui)

{I have not yet re-written the Daikari storyline involved with the past ficverse of mine in full; So please take this work as a sort of preview to it!} The ending lines and following sequences especially hint/allude a little more to my ficverse's potential turnouts; but it can be viewed/read as semi or even fully canon compliant too!

(Further lyric{s} under ‘read more’!)

“Turn this way, don't look anywhere else, darling It'd be bad if you weren't completely by MY side… Although you show courage, you've got it backwards A maiden's heart is fragile and trying—”

If we get separated by any distance I’ll come after you

(J.P.N): {Verse #1} Kocchi wo muite yo So mi shinaide Daarin Chanto watashi no soba ni inakucha dame da yo Tsuyogari datte uragaeshi Otome-gokoro kyun to setsunai…

Donna ni tookute hanarete 'te mo  Oikakete 'ku wa— I'm like a jasmine flower, right? You want to turn towards my strong fragrance I love you more than anyone So look at only me, okay?

{Verse #2} If it’s for "love", you’ll get stronger, darling So it’s true, I’ll "always" be your ""cute kid""-- Although there are some bad feelings in life No one will ever give up on a m a i d e n’s heart--(?)

Throughout all of the pain We’re invincible

I’m clumsy around you Protect only ME A magical love ONLY for US We should KEEP THAT our S E {C R E T}— Jasumin no hana no you ni ne Tsuyoku kaotte furimukasetai Dare yori mo anata ga suki Watashi dake mitsumete ite ne?

Koi no tame nara tsuyoku nareru no Daarin Honto wa zutto kawaii ko de itai kedo Yakimochi datte maji da kara Otome-gokoro dare ni mo makenai

Donna ni tsurai koto ga atte mo Futari wa muteki--

Bukiyou na anata no koto Mamoreru no wa watashi dake da yo Koi no mahou futari ni dake Wakariaeru HI{MITSU na n’ da yo}–

I'm like a "jasmine flower", right? You want to turn towards my strong fragrance I love you more than anyone So look at only me, okay?

Jasumin no hana no you ni ne Tsuyoku kaotte furimukasetai Dare yori mo anata ga suki Watashi dake mitsumete ite ne?

NOTE: The speaker may be speaking as if theyre NOT BEING CONSISTENT with their {FEELINGs}.

(Implied/Spoken): {My fic-verse Only}

"...I'm sorry." {"For before"}

"{None of it was} 'Your fault'." -Hikari to Daisuke

{"...It wasn't 'YOURS', EITHER--"}

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[linnorabeifong]

Sad LinZin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51166699/chapters/129563737

TW for miscarriage.

Notes: I've always considered why Lin never had kids, her not wanting them is perfectly valid and in-line with her character but she also has a lot of maternal moments and I could really see her as a mother or wanting a child. This fic was born from the idea that maybe she did want kids and just couldn't have them and the tension that would create in her relationship and how she would cope with it (Hint:not well).

Summary: Lin breaks the news to Tenzin.

Chapter 4: "Sakura"

Tenzin enters the guest room, discovering Lin staring into space, her mouth contorted in a grimace. A hiss escapes her lips. His mother is running healing water over what he assumes is the source of her pain. Had she gotten injured at work ? Did she eat something bad?

             She turns towards him. Her glassy eyes staring at him, a silent plea. He swiftly moves across the room to comfort her. He envelops one of her hands in his own and begins rubbing her back with the other. Usually she would hate to be this affectionate in front of other people. Something was wrong. She looks on the verge of tears. Lin Beifong rarely cried. 

               “Lin what’s wrong?” he asks, panicked.

               When he hears the words leave Lin’s lips his heart skips a beat. It takes a moment for him to realize what she said and what that meant. Silent tears stream down his face, equal parts confusion, grief and concern for her.

               He had just learned about the baby, just began to lay out plans and to grow excited. Now it is all gone. The spirits had given them a blessing just to take it away.

               He had imagined a little girl with Lin’s beautiful eyes and the sweet giggle she only let a few people hear. A perfect, chubby little girl. He had already debated between countless names and decided on a few to talk to Lin about. Fang, Lotus, Ikki. 

               Sakura was his favorite. It evoked memories of visiting the fire nation with Lin. Excitedly running through the streets of Caldera and eating sweets. The humidity of the islands which he hates; is delightful to her.  It is her favorite place in the world; a secret she kept well guarded. “It just feels right,” she had explained to him. Something about the blazing red sun called her. The heat suited her; she always hated the cold.  If given her pick of any color she would choose red every time. Red like the sun. Red like the roses she adored. Red like blood…

              Sakura, like the nation she loved, and like the delicate blossoms that remind Tenzin of her. Pink and sweet smelling. A sign of a beautiful, fresh spring’s arrival.

            Sakura, the cherry blossom wallpaper Lin had in her room. The embroidery of her bed spread. The festival she went to each year.

             Sakura.

            Sakura, their blooms only last for two weeks. The joy they bring is fleeting.

            White and pink petals fade to brown.

            Sakura.

            Sakura, the precious blossoms wilt and die. They never get to see the spring they announce.

            Sakura, the perfect blooms, fall to the dirty ground.

            Sakura, they decay, and return to the earth from which they came.

            Sakura, who would weep for something as fragile and fleeting as a flower ?

            He would. 

            He would weep forever. Yet he sees the pain on her face, how she is gritting her teeth to bare the agony. His pales in comparison to hers. He squeezes her hand.

             Please, don’t fade like a flower my love. Please, he thinks but does not say.

            A blood curdling scream of grief leaves her lips. He speaks, she does not hear. He stares, she does not see. The healing water does nothing for her pain, mental or physical. Katara returns it to the water skin. At first her breathing accelerates then, it halts altogether. No air finds her lungs. 

            Please. Please, breathe.

[shisui-uchiha-anon]

"Happy birthday, Shisui!" Sakura surprised her husband just as he opened the door, holding up a cake that she hand made and decorated just for him, "I took time off to spend time with my wonderful husband on his birthday!"

Opsie, that was close he almost collided with her. He didn't expect for her to be waiting on the other side of the door. The cake looked beautiful it was half white half black with a clear line between the two, like a Ying and Yang. On the black side, there were a lot of pink sakura cherry blossom flowers, and on the white there was his name and pink written Happy Birthday Husband.

He plucked out one flower and ate it right before her before he helped her to put down the cake.

Shisui hugged her in a crushing loving hug, he knew that she could take it, this iron woman who always was by his side. He never wanted a spoiled and fragile woman. Or the one who would spend hours upon hours putting on the makeup, he needed a woman of action and he found her. He kissed her all over the facee.

"I love you" he smiled lifting her up in his arms and urging her to grasp his waist with her legs. "Let's open the present shall we?' He smirked promising a reward for her hard work.

@hana-akari

[imustbenuts]

just wanted to say that ur irezumi symbolism post Destroyed me .. but also i gave majima's tattoos some thought, cause the whole sakura motif symbolically contradicting the snake motif thing confused me for a bit...

tbh? i think that this juxtaposition was very deliberate, and i wanted to dump my Brainthoughts about why that is since i think you'd appreciate it :)!

snakes shed their skin consistently, just as trees shed their leaves and how flowers shed their petals. i feel like majima's irezumi exists to highlight the transitive nature of this routine and how it's a product of change in the environment of a given thing, like the seasons passing or a snake literally outgrowing itself.

it's one big metaphor for the human version of a ship of theseus: majima can change and slough himself of whatever facade he had, and this process of removing waste he doesn't need anymore can imply venom and violence OR the beautiful, fleeting fragility of existence itself. but either way, there's always one specific factor that serves as a common thread between those personalities and events. u wanna know what said common thread is?

his anger. his rage. the hannya. no matter what era or 'season' majima is in, his disdain toward tojo is literally the factor that defines him as the person he always will be 💔 and i think there's even MORE symbolism in using a hannya specifically, but i don't know enough about noh theatre to confidently speculate about the usage of hannya in majima's irezumi and what that might imply.

tl;dr majima's anger/rage is eternal with him and it's the defining factor that makes him, well, majima. even if he chooses to let that shedding process be violent and explosive or delicate and beautiful he is still the same snake or sakura tree at the end of the day. because no matter what angle you look at a hannya mask from, it's still a hannya, and it's still a mask

yay, thank you anon!! man majima is FASCINATING.

i think the hannya mask, rather the noh masks are known for giving different expressions depending on the tilt and the lighting? he has a theme with being adaptable and as u suggest, transitory throughout his life. the nagas has this slick adaptability theme too.

majima's core doesnt change. he looks unpredictable and never the same but. his core is always the same.

hes so ROCK. yakuza/rgg is so very rock

i feel sad for majima tho, he never seems to be able to catch a break and truly be happy for long ;; weh the writers are mean. sometimes i look at the popularity ranking they conducted in 2013 and 2018 and i understand why majima is number 1 cabaret ojisan

bc and idk how but they made majima win by A) being strong and B) fumbling kiryu's writing at points especially in 2 probably by accident. so majima wins like this:

hes so good

howd they accidentally make the not-mc this good

[daryj]

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