#spoon oba-san | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meowzfordayz · 3 years ago

Text

nicknames

Author’s Note: mentioned in talk to me that nicknames hcs may be written… and here they are !! Was my original intent to just list nicknames w/ brief synopsis? Mhm. Was there overcompensation starting around Kyojuro bc the prior hcs seemed long, but what w/ the overcompensation the final hcs ended up being the longest? Mhmmm.

nicknames

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~3,200

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

~faqs~

For you

Definitely calls you [y/n]-chan

—Which, btw, can be an affectionate honorific between lovers (regardless of gender!)

Well

More like, [y/n]-chaaaaan 😇

Totally smug bc only he’s allowed to address you w/ that honorific

If he ever calls you just [y/n], then he’s either

Stressed

Horny

Will shakily call you baby if you rile him up enough

For him

Zeni, Zenitsu-chan, ⚡️Zap Zap alternatively, Zapped⚡️

Zeni’s your go-to when you’re sleepy, lazy, feeling cute

Zenitsu-chan for when you’re trying to embarrass him

—As much as he loves addressing you as -chan, flip it on him and he gets suuuper flustered

—Especially since you seem to do it solely in public ??

—Not once have you called him Zenitsu-chan behind closed doors

—And no, I will not elaborate on ⚡️Zap Zap alternatively, Zapped⚡️

For you

Occasionally calls you [y/n]-sama

Bc you’ll slap him and he likes it

“I am not a kami, and I am not your superior either.”

But usually sticks to random things in nature

My little leaf

My big bug

My pretty pebble

My wiggle worm

—Fun fact !! I’m fine w/ spiders, but worms ?? Anything w/ more than 8 legs ?? 😳 #gtfo

For him

Hashibira Inosuke

He hates the formality

“Oii! Don’t act like you don’t know me!”

Don’t act like we don’t fall asleep spooning 😓

Whenever he does something amusingly stupid — boar headed dumbass ~w/ fondness

But if he pisses you off? Hashibira ~only you can bring him to his knees

Interpret that as you will 😉

‘Nosuke when you miss him

‘Nosuke’s his favorite — makes him as happy as it does sad

Happy bc it’s a reminder of what he means to you

Sad bc, well, it’s a reminder of what he means to you

And of how difficult it is to be apart

Himejima Gyomei

For you

[y/n]

Might not seem like much

But he’s, yanno, traditional

So for him to call you by ~just your first name

Demonstrates a comfortability, a familiarity, that nobody else has w/ him

Would call you anything tho if you just thought to ask

For him

Honey

Also, big softie hahaha let’s be real tho, he’s totally a big hardie

Similarly tho, you tend to call him ~just Gyomei

He’s so used to being call Himejima-sama or Himejima-san

That simply calling him Gyomei flusters him

“Gyomei…” you murmur, forehead resting against his

“[y/n],” he whispers

You could go back and forth repeating each other’s names for hrs

It’s gross sickeningly sweet

For you

Princess

He likes its ✨versatility✨

“Princess,” he murmurs—sultry, seductive, teasing—drunk on how you squirm needily beneath him

“Princess,” he rasps, heart cracking as he takes in your huddled form, “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Princess,” he grumbles, batting at your pesky hands as you attempt to tickle him, “I’m not ticklish, stop- S-stop- Ahhh.” (he’s ticklish)

“Princess,” he smirks as you cling to his haori, “I’ll be back soon. I promise,” he pecks your nose, “Demons ain’t got nothing on my love for you,” he swallows, throat tightening, tilting your chin up to kiss you deeply, reassuringly, “Nothing.”

For him

So I could say prince and call it a day

But that’s a tad too cringe for me 😬

Instead, let’s say

Oba

Obi

Oba-obi

Ban

Ban-ban

Bani

Nai

Nai-nai

Basically every iteration/shortening of his name

Except for his actual name

Sometimes he loses track of them

And doesn’t realize he’s Ana

“Is my name really too long for you to remember?” he nudges you playfully

“Nooo,” you roll your eyes, “But you’re so cuuute! My Oba-oba!”

He rolls his eyes back

Lowkey squealing inside

He’s 100% your Oba-oba

And very cute

The cutest

For you

Darling and sweetheart

Quoted from talk to me: “He’s just so… tender? Gentle? His soul is fricking kindness incarnate like literally 😭”

His guilty pleasure he doesn’t feel guilty about it at all is knowing he can influence your scent depending on what he calls you

Darling, and you smell faintly of vanilla and giddiness — of affection and closeness

Sweetheart, and he smells traces of spearmint and confidence — of yes I’m sweet and yes I’m your heart

He’s tried other nicknames

Love — roses, soaking under a waterfall

Dearest — citrus, a bit of embarrassment

Precious — lavender, the quiet of sunrise

But he can’t get enough of your hazy vanilla

Can’t get enough of your stutter inducing spearmint

You’re the only addiction he indulges in

The only addiction he trusts

For him

Tan

—Personal favorite of mine teehee

—Something about it just oozes intimacy imo

—I’m struggling to come up w/ anything else

—Bc in my brain, he’s… Idk ?! He’s Tan ?!?!?!

Tan as you run drowsy fingers through his mussed hair, his head safely in your lap

Tan as you peer at him over the rim of your mug of tea *sip sip*

Tan as his abs glisten above you, droplets of sweat caressing your skin, pupils dilated, warm warm warm TanTanTan p-please “I’ve got you darling.” p-please “Know just how to take care of you darling.” p-please “Love you darling.” TAN

I’m not thirsty you’re thirsty jEeZ 😵‍💫

For you

Anything sweet + “my”

My honey

My sugar

My sakura mochi (c’mon, you had to know this one was coming 💝)

Also anything remotely related to sweet + “my”

My bumble bee

My tree sap

My strawberry (she’s called you every fruit she knows)

Is it overwhelming?

Absolutely

Do you care?

Absolutely not

You’re perfectly content to be her sweet anything, anytime, anywhere, anyhow

—Altho can be lowkey confusing when she’s eating something sweet

—Bc like, she coos at her food? So is she cooing at her sakura mochi, sakura mochi, or you her sakura mochi ??

For her

So you reeeally want to call her something ❄️special❄️

Something that gets her blushing, melting, flustered, puddle

But like

Everything does that?

You could call her limp noodle and she’d squeal

“Ohmygosh my yuzu I’m your limp noodle? That’s so adorrrable! You could just slurp me up, couldn’t you?!”

And uhh

Yeah, you could just slurp her up 😋

But now you’re blushing, melting, flustered, puddle

Eventually you resign yourself to just calling her random things

It’s pretty entertaining, yanno, the spin she’ll put on whatever you come up w/

Tatami mat

“Staaahp you’re too muuuch my wagashi. I’d totally let you step on me !!” 🤭

For you

Gorgeous

Beautiful

Stunner

Eventually had to clarify that she wasn’t just constantly objectifying you 😅

But that her nicknames for you reflected her perception of your personality too

Will cup your face and call you Magnificent

Just to watch how rapidly you blink

“You flatter me,” you mumble sheepishly

She grins cheerfully, “Of course I do. Pretty.”

For her

Papilio paris (Paris peacock) 🦋

Vanessa indica (Indian red admiral) 🦋

Parantica aglea (glassy tiger) 🦋

Hypolimnas bolina (Great Eggfly) 🦋

Pieris canidia (Indian cabbage white) 🦋

Argynnis paphia (Silver-washed fritillary) 🦋

Papilio macilentus (long tail spangle) 🦋

Did you become a butterfly nerd just for her? 🤓

*insert vigorous nodding here*

—Did I Google “butterflies in Japan” for the purpose of these hcs? *insert more vigorous nodding here*

Tbf, you usually just call her my butterfly

But when you’re feeling extra cute-needy-lonely (really extra anything), then the scientific names come out

And as a fellow nerd, Shinobu’s like

😍😍😍

For you

Don’t come at me but- 😶

I’m tired of Kyojuro calling Reader “my little flame’ or “my fireball” or really anything related to goddamn fire

Do I think it’s in character for him to do so? Yes

Do I think it’s cute? Yes

Everything this man does has me like: 🥰

But am I tired of it? Yes

I feel like he wouldn’t have a particular nickname for you ??

Just… whatever seems right in the moment is what pops out?

So he could call you my little flame

As well as

“Hello my everything, I missed you,” returning from a mission

“Good morning selfish person that I adore,” waking up to you hogging ⅘ of the bed

“You’re doing great bean sprout!” cheering you on as you spar against someone

His nicknames express his vulnerability, his pride, his exact, specific feelings in each exact, specific moment

You’re his sun, moon, and stars

His favorite tune to hum

His favorite weather to walk in

Everything you do has him like: 🥰

For him

Donut boi 💀

Okaaay Ik, Ik, Ik

I just ranted about being tired of Kyojuro calling Reader anything related to goddamn fire

BUT PLS BEAR W/ ME 😭

He’s your sunshine

HOW COULD HE BE ANYTHING ELSE ?!?!?!

☀️☀️☀️

It’s cheesy enough to redden the tips of his ears

But not so cheesy that he can’t handle being called it in public

Which is fortunate, bc the ratio of you calling him Kyojuro and you calling him sunshine is 50:50

—WAAAIT

—I nearly forgot your other nickname for him !!!!!

Kyo

Sunshine’s fine around friends

While Kyo’s acceptable for less… casual, audiences

Obvi still implies your intimate connection, but it’s much better to accidentally call him Kyo vs sunshine in front of Shinjuro 🥴

Plus, Kyo has the additional perk of being easier to stretch

i.e. Kyyyyyo

—You only call him suuunshiiiiine when you’re trying to get on his nerves 😆

P.S. You can’t (get on his nerves) 😌

P.P.S. His love for you >>> than all your attempts to annoy him ever

For you

Jerk = you’re cute

Idiot = you’re adorable

Dumbass = you’re precious

Dumbfuck = let’s fuck you’re beautful

Bitch = you’re my favorite

Cunt = I’d die for you

Babe = babe, my babe

It took a while to decipher his, err, terms of endearment

Now you just smile knowingly

“Idiot, stop drooling,” as you gape at his deliciously sweaty muscles 🤤

“Babe, I said Pass me the rice,” as you eat dinner together

“Dumbass, didn’t you hear me before you left? I said Don’t come back injured,” as you lean heavily against his chest — he’ll tend to your wounds as soon as he’s convinced himself that you’re really, truly in his arms, alive, home

And even if you haven’t deciphered all of his… nicknames, syntax

The softness in his touch, the tentativeness in his gaze

Actions speak louder than words when it comes to Sanemi

That much you’ve fully deciphered

—So sue me I didn’t feel like playing into Kyojuro’s nicknaming tropes, but I’m totally onboard w/ Sanemi’s 😂

For him

Nemi

—Idk what it is w/ me and shortened names, but Kyo, Nemi, Tan, and Zeni are highkey my overall favorites

—Ik practically everyone’s name could be shortened (i.e. Gyo; Suri; Shino; Chiro; Ten), but those just feel… off ??

—Anywho

Surprisingly, he doesn’t scowl or tell you to piss off when you call him Nemi

He just goes quiet, eyes widening slightly

You don’t notice his curling fingers (he’s hiding them in the sleeves of his haori)

Or the way he bites the tip of his tongue (still inside his mouth)

They… they’re calling me… I have a nickname ?!

—Cries 🥺

—#Sanemi must be protected at all costs

“Do you… mind?” you’re hesitant

Normally, he’s Sanemi-san

But you always feel so affectionate, so giddy w/ him

And Sanemi-san just doesn’t express that like Nemi does

You want him to know how you feel

To feel secure in your commitment to him

To feel secure in your belief in him

To feel secure in your love for him

He doesn’t trust himself to respond w/o his voice cracking

Settles for an almost imperceptible shake of his head

Jaw tensing from the bubbles in his stomach

He doesn’t mind

If it’s you, then it’s perfect

For you

—Y’all I’m running out of steam 😮‍💨

—Whenever I write hcs/preferences, I list everyone alphabetically (by last name)

—And typically write in that same order too

—I also do my best to write a similar amount—no favoritism 😤

—Perhaps a tad, but never intentionally

—Going by inspo rather than down the list doesn’t help either, bc then I get extra stuck on whoever I write toward the end

Lovely

Especially when first getting to know each other

He rarely remembered your name

Would smile apologetically, blushing faintly, “I know we’ve met before, but… I can’t quite remember who you are.”

You never took offense

Would nod patiently

“I’m [y/n].”

“Lovely,” he’d murmur, mostly to himself

Eventually, his greeting evolved to, “I know we’ve met before… lovely?”

And you’d giggle pleasantly, “[y/n]. I’m [y/n].”

“What a lovely name!”

“You always say that.”

“Unless your name changes, I’ll always think it’s lovely.”

He hadn’t meant to be flirtatious

But the sudden narrowing of your eyes, the shy dent between your eyebrows — How lovely!

Muichiro def made a mental note Call [y/n] lovely more often

Aaand then promptly forgot said mental note

Regardless, he still calls you lovely bc your name doesn’t change

And gradually-naturally-inevitably

He finds himself graced with your company

More and more often

Until he’s able to greet you

“Hello [y/n],” waving nervously, excitedly, “Lovely as always.”

For him

Silly

You try not to poke fun at his airheadedness too much

He may be difficult to offend

Too airheaded lol

But you’re cognizant and respectful nonetheless

Altho, you can’t help muttering an affectionate silly from time to time

“[y/n]... do you know where my other zori is?”

“Silly,” you chuckle fondly, “You didn’t leave them next to each other?”

…

“Oh. It’s right here.”

What you don’t know is, from time to time, he plays it up

Tilts his head, glancing at you w/ a curious expression

“Did you forget my name again, silly?” you wink

Nope

He hasn’t forgotten your name in a while, actually

But he feels… soothed, adored, cute ??

Whenever you call him silly

Bc, silliness and all, you’ve stuck around this long

And every time you call him silly, he’s reassured that—silliness and all—you’ll continue sticking around

For you

No nicknames for you

But dw!

He occasionally waxes poetry about you instead 🤗

Like, y’all could be eating udon for breakfast, groggy af

And he’s just

“[y/n], you’re my first conscious breath of every morning, a reminder of how delicate, how fragile, how terrifyingly vulnerable, it is to be alive. And yet, that first conscious breath is always vital, always necessary — as beautiful and soothing as it is daunting.”

You stare at him bug eyed

Since when does he say that much in one sentence ??

But then he doesn’t utter anything else — just finishes eating, leans in to kiss your cheek, and goes on his way for the day

That’s more like it

You figure you’ll get used to it

Like, there’ll be some tick, some warning sign, that he’s about to go off

But there never is

His monologues are distant enough from each other that you lowkey forget he even does the thing

And then BAM

You’re sitting behind him one evening, rubbing his shoulders as he kneads at your thighs, and he murmurs

“I’m constantly scared to lose you. To lose the calm of every sunrise, the promise of every noon, the finality of every sunset. You’re my marker of time, my reason, the thread holding together the days. Without you… if someday… you… you didn’t, didn’t make it back, I fear, I know, the days would disintegrate into each other — just as a demon fades to nothing, so too would my grasp on reality without you.”

Sheesh

Like, Can you repeat that please?

But he simply smiles to himself, pats your knees before standing up, offers you a quiet hand

Nothing else said as he guides you to bed

Just a warm, familiar kiss before he drifts to sleep, chin tucked into your hair

For him

Flowers

Something about how you know he dislikes it

Yet can’t bring himself to ask you to stop

So like… does he really dislike it ??

Besides, you’re very thoughtful about which kinds of flowers you call him

Sakura when you can tell he’s hurting: to remind him that to persevere does not always mean to be strong 🌸

Akaibara when you can tell he’s in need of extra loving: to remind him that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere 🌹

Magunoria when he leaves you grasping for words, mesmerized by his very being: to remind him that he’s as beautiful—in mind, body, heart, and soul—as ever

You figure it’s something arbitrary like Flowers are for women

But nuh uh

You’re going to call him by every incredible flower you know

Bc flowers are for everyone

Bc flowers are especially for Giyuu

At least, to you, they are

For you

—IT’S 4AM BUT I’VE MADE IT TO TENGEN 🥳🥳🥳

—Also highkey got sidetracked writing sick day

—Alsoalso I need to stop getting inspired by songs (I mean… not actually, but-)

—Bc I currently have 8 wips, of which only 3 are requests

—I think for every 1 request, I get distracted writing 1-3 other fanfics 🥲

“my” + Pet Names

My kitten

My bunny 🐇

My goldfish

Suggestive? Affectionate?

Either or and both

Prob doesn’t answer the question, but Tengen himself should answer it for ya

That also didn’t make sense

—Aight

—I need sleep

—But Imma keep this tidbit in bc it’s #comicrelief

—Not that this fanfic’s stressful/needs #comicrelief heh

—Tengen still calls you “my” + Pet Names btw

—I wrote that earlier at a reasonable hr

—I’m baaack ~8 hrs later !!

What w/ his flashiness, Tengen calls you embarrassing adorable nicknames

Cuddled in his lap? “Aww, are you cozy my kitten?” 😻

Distracted while he’s talking to you? “Hey, my goldfish, are you even listening to me?”

—Ik, Ik the goldfish-attention-span thing is urban myth, but anYWAY

Stomach grumbling as you hurriedly cook dinner? “Hungry, my bunny? Everything’s smelling delicious — let me help you?”

Calls you pet names in bed *wink wink* *nudge nudge*

Has one particular nickname that he weaponizes bc you react so splendidly to it

In public, tho, he sticks to [y/n]

Unless you misbehave

*insert weaponized nickname here*

For him

I feel like this man devours compliments nicknames

Call him handsome

King 👑,

Sexy

Master

Daddy

Just lil ego boosts to sweeten spice his day

He’s not detrimentally insecure

Like, he has his nonchalant moments of self doubt—I’m nothing special!

But you also catch him flexing at himself ??

If anything, you recognize he might benefit from compliments nicknames addressing his emotionality and mentality

Ofc, you still call him handsome, sexy, and etc

But you make a point to throw in “my” + intelligent man, sensitive lover, and brave soul

“I’m proud of you, my intelligent man.”

“I’m grateful for you, my sensitive lover.”

“Are you okay, my brave soul?”

You appreciate him

A lot ☺

So if you inflate his ego a lil too much some days?

Oh well

He deserves it

King 👑,

#hashira x reader #kamaboko #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #zenitsu x reader #inosuke x reader #gyomei x reader #obanai x reader #tanjiro x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #giyuu x reader #tengen x reader

1K notes · View notes

mahounomanga · 3 years ago

Text

Gorgeous Irene

We're getting into the 1980s here at Mahou no Manga, which is perhaps one of the most important decades in the history of the magical girl genre. So before I start talking about the manga du jour, I first want to unpack what made the 80s so, dare I say, transformative.

The 1980s were a time of great change for the magical girl genre, and these changes were being felt across a variety of media. Starting with anime, Mahou Shoujo Lalabel finished airing in 1981. The anime was produced by Toei Animation, an animation and planning company that had also created nearly every other magical girl anime in existence at that time (the sole exception being 1971's Fushigi na Melmo, animated instead by Tezuka productions). Once Lalabel ended, Toei took an approximately decade long break from releasing new magical girl anime. 1982's Magical Princess Minky Momo (handled by Ashi Productions) would be only the second ever non-Toei magical girl anime. Following its' success, numerous other studios, mangaka, and other content creators of the time would put their own spin on the magical girl formula, which dramatically expanded the scope of what a magical girl can be and do. As such, this is the point where we start to see the consensus as to which titles are considered magical girl and which are not break down. Is Spoon Oba-san a magical girl anime? What about Vampire Princess Miyu? Who knows?

Key innovations of this time include the creation and popularization of the magical idol sub-genre thanks to 1983's Magical Angel Creamy Mami, Studio Pierrot crossing over their magical girls in 1987 (or 1986 depending on how you look at it) to create what is likely the first ever magical girl team in anime, and a small handful of male-oriented magical girl OVAs being released to the newly booming direct-to-video market. That last point is particularly interesting to me because prior to the eighties, magical girls designed for boys and men were a rarity. 1973's Cutie Honey was the first magical girl series intended for a male demographic in both anime and manga, but despite its' success, it was essentially a one-off. While male-aimed magical girls still weren't super common in the eighties, they were slowly growing in number. Similarly, two of these OVAs (Dream Hunter Rem and Genmu Senki Leda, both released in 1985) are early examples of magical girl warrior anime. While neither would be hugely influential on their own, they are a stepping stone on the path to magical warriors being the most common kind of magical girl.

As well, the late eighties saw both magical girl anime from the 60s get rebooted. Himitsu no Akko-chan was brought back as a live action TV special in 1987, and a TV anime series retelling the story of the original in 1988. Sally the Witch would get a direct sequel series in the form of a TV anime in 1989. These weren't the first magical girl reboots (There was a new Comet-san TV drama in the 70s that I think is technically the first), but they are emblematic of the nostalgia cycle starting to apply to magical girl anime, something we are still seeing to this day with works like Sailor Moon Eternal and Tokyo Mew Mew New.

The eighties are also when magical girls would globalize at an unprecedented rate. Existing Japanese magical girl shows were exported to numerous foreign markets during this time, mostly in Europe and South America, with foreign language dubs being created for these properties, including some of the first English dubbed magical girl anime. The first magical girl anime to receive an English dub was 1979's Hana no Ko Lunlun, a few episodes of which were edited together into a TV movie that aired in 1981 under the unhelpfully generic title of Angel.

Meanwhile, original English language magical girl cartoons were being created in greater numbers than before. American cartoons of the 80s are known for toy tie-in cartoons, and so doll lines like Jem, Rainbow Brite, and the original She-ra were adapted to screen. Notably, these 80s magical girl cartoons generally did not derive influence from existing magical girl anime. Rather they developed on their own, often repurposing existing fantasy and fairy tale tropes to be more female centric and magic intensive.

And then there's manga. During the 1980s, magical girl manga would undergo two major changes, both of which essentially comport with changes in contemporaneous magical girl anime. First of all, this decade saw an uptick in shounen and seinen magical girl manga. Like I said, Cutie Honey was the first shounen magical girl manga, but because it has a very high-profile anime (or, y'know, five, who's counting?), it was not covered on the blog. As such, every manga we've looked at prior to now has been shoujo. But starting today, Mahou no Manga will be covering manga geared towards boys and men as well.

Secondly, this is the point at which we start seeing magical girl manga making its' way into English speaking fan communities. A handful of 80s magical girl manga have been translated by manga scanlating groups and at least one got an official English release in its' own time.

Both of these changes come together in the topic of today's post: the first shounen manga to get its' own write-up on this blog, and the first manga I've covered that has been translated in its' entirety.

Gorgeous Irene is a manga by Hirohiko Araki about a gorgeous assassin named Irene Rapona. Usually taking on the appearance of a strange and airheaded sixteen year old girl, Irene has an arsenal of magical makeup that can transform her into a sadistic woman with hypnotic abilities and an invincible body. Those who contract her must become her friends, and in exchange for their friendship, she will protect them from harm. She does battle with powerful enemies, using her makeup as a deadly weapon. Not only that, but she is a master of disguise who can blend in anywhere, or stand out as she sees fit.

As a magical girl story, this one is... certainly interesting. Given that it is quite short, we don't get much of a read on Irene's character, and most of her life story and motivations remain cloaked in mystery. Where she got her makeup and what the full extent of its' abilities are are never made fully clear. As well, her story is often told from the perspective of her clients until the moment she leaps into battle. The character drawing style is... distinctive let's say. Proportions and poses are what I can only describe as stylishly awkward. As for Irene herself, I actually like her quite a bit. She has a tenacity and charm to her that really carry the story in my opinion.

I will say that if you want to read this one for yourself, definitely know your own limits. Content warning for animal cruelty, graphic bloody violence, and body horror. The female characters, including Irene herself, are very much sexualized, so if you're not comfortable with that, this might be one to skip. As well, if you're squeamish about bugs, the final chapter is probably going to get to you.

Gorgeous Irene's publication history is a bit of a mess. Many online resources will tell you it was published from December 23, 1980 to December 20, 1986 (which is how this ended up being the first eighties manga on my timeline) and it ran for five chapters. These five chapters were published in a single tankobon volume on February 10, 1987, and every subsequent reprint has included all five chapters. However, Gorgeous Irene isn't the only thing here. In actuality, it only makes up the last two chapters, with the other three being assorted one-shots by Hirohiko Araki.

These additional stories are interesting in the own right, Especially Mahounen B.T. and Busou Poker. The former would go on to have a six chapter run of its' own, and a sequel one-shot published in 2021. As of this writing, I've only read the original one-shot. Although I have seen the title translated as Magical Boy B.T., it is not a magical boy manga and is instead a detective story in which the main character occasionally does sleight-of-hand magic tricks. Not to mention a more accurate translation would be Wicked Boy B.T. and the official English title is Cool Shock B.T.. Busou Poker (Poker Under Arms) is a wild west poker drama of sorts, which is not my cup of tea but does still boast some historical significance as Araki's debut work, published on, you guessed it, December 23, 1980.

Hirohiko Araki is best known as the creator Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. It would certainly be interesting to compare and contrast that manga with Gorgeous Irene, but alas I have not actually read or watched Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. I was tempted to try some for this project, but given the sheer amount of Jojo content that has been created, I didn't think I would be able to get a sufficient understanding of the series in a timely fashion. So if there are any JJBA stans among my readers, feel free to check out Gorgeous Irene and drop your observations in the reblogs.

Gorgeous Irene ran for two chapters in Weekly Shounen Jump, the first chapter published October 1, 1985, the second published December 20, 1986. Both chapters were published alongside the other short stories on February 10, 1987 with reprints on March 19, 2004, in October of 2007, and on December 16, 2012. Most recently, the manga received a digital rerelease on November 1, 2015. As far as I know, Gorgeous Irene has never been officially published in English. The good news is, Project Bite Me! Scanlations has released an English translation of all five chapters, making this arguably the most accessible manga I've covered on this blog, and its' tangential connection to Jojo's Bizarre Adventure makes it easily the most well-known manga I've covered. For once it wasn't a matter of trying to scrounge up enough information for a coherent write-up, but deciding what information was important enough to include vs. what to omit. Huge shout-out to Jojo's Bizarre Encyclopedia for having most of this information at-the-ready. If you want to know more about Gorgeous Irene, go check out their article on the subject.

While I certainly have my criticisms of this manga, it was an engaging read to say the least. I've never seen another magical girl story quite like it, and I think it makes for the perfect segue into a new era of manga in the genre.

#my posts #long post #Gorgeous Irene #ゴージャス★アイリン #Hirohiko Araki #荒木飛呂彦 #Shounen Jump #80s #shounen #In hindsight I probably should have been tagging the rest of my stuff as shoujo for posterity's sake.#I wonder if I should go back and tag everything retroactively.

48 notes · View notes

rebelliouslala · 3 years ago

Text

A Man Who Plays Volleyball.

happy birthday my beloved little anime boy, Ushijima Wakatoshi!

summary and warnings!: OC!Yuri-Chan (they are there as you, the reader!) x Wakatoshi, fix it fic! Shiratorizawa wins to go to the Nationals; angst, descriptions of parental abuse, descriptions of anxiety, flashbacks, a form of s/lf h/rm, accidental cause to injury, unwanted touching, a creepy guy, divorce drama, this story describes the suppression of men’s mental health, a good spoonful of fluff at the end

word count; ~10k words

a/n: this was SUPER rushed. but, i love him. you have no idea how much i saw myself in satori. in wakatoshi. i love shiratorizawa. may this alternate universe make the original ushijima wakatoshi smile :)

The Shiratorizawa volleyball player, Ushijima Wakatoshi walked home. He carried his volleyball clothes in a duffel bag. He wore a white hoodie with a purple outline. It said, printed, “Ushijima #1” on the back. He walked in silence. Because he preferred it. He felt tired.

The Miracle Boy felt tired. The crickets in the warm farm fields began to buzz with the swift wind that came from behind. He closed his eyes and stopped. He softly smiled as he looked up at the cloudy autumn sky. The sun was setting.

How long has he waited for this day; His eyes, to anyone else, would be dull. But that day, after his battle against Karasuno, they sparkled like freshly oiled olives. His hairdo was gently ruffled as a train passed by to his left, and he took a deep breath. He pumped his fist as a tear went down his cheek.

“I won.”

Once the Miracle Boy arrived home; He placed away his uniform in a laundry machine, and gently sucked on a popsicle. He blinked a few times, watching the machine churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and- His lower back ached. He leaned against the wall, continuing to gently bite the tip. Satori once called him insane for biting ice cream.

“Doesn’t it hurt?!” Satori cried during their summer training. Wakatoshi had offered his land to use for training. Coach Washijo had taken the offer with happiness. He had bit his thick popsicle in response. “No.”

Wakatoshi turned to a sob from the threshold. There sat on its diaper ass one of the Ushijima twins, Kazane, who blinked. She had a straight bob and palm green eyes. She whined.

The boy sighed. He gently bent down and picked her up. She babbled stupidly and gripped at his hair, then whined more for his popsicle. “No.” He continued to bite it and he frowned as Kazane started to whimper. Wakatoshi now began to bounce her and he looked at his uniform as it continued to wash. She stopped making noises and instead clung onto him.

“Wakatoshi? Wakatoshi have you seen—?” He let his mother find him as she sighed. She had straight black hair, one that was in a messy bun since she gave birth to the twins.

“Hello Oka-san.”

“Wakatoshi, you know she can’t have ice cream!” She said, exasperated.

“I know that. She is trying to take it.” He continued biting it.

“Here, gimme,” Ms. Ushijima took Kazane, and let her soft cry in her neck. Wakatoshi simply continued to look at the swirl of his clothes. “I called your father.”

Wakatoshi turned, and he blinked. Once. Twice. His eyebrows furrowed, but he straightened himself up. “Is he not busy?”

“Yeah, but you know, it’s nice because you‘re going to Nationals-, isn’t that what you wanted, Wakatoshi?”

The boy sucked on the stick as the machine stopped. He went down to take the uniform, and began to fold. “Yes.”

She sighed, “Stop acting dramatic. I know you’re happy. Oh- I also invited your girlfriend over.” Wakatoshi now walked past his mother, and his baby sister as he went to his room. He hung his shirt and pants. Ms. Ushijima followed him, “I suggest you wear some nice formal wear, got it? And I want you both in the family room.”

“I was thinking of a nice berry bush, a purely platonic meeting. In the back—?”

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. Sure. Remember to change Mayumi’s diapers.”

Yuri had met Wakatoshi at the side door of his house. Yuri hopped up and gave him a kiss to his jawline. “Good afternoon, ‘Toshi-Chan!”

Wakatoshi blushed. He held his cheek. “Afternoon, my flower.”

The wind that messed up Yuri’s hair passed, and Wakatoshi with no hesitation helped them fix it, after a soft question if he could. He gently petted their hair back.

The couple sat peacefully in the bushes. Yuri, after the wind, then went to the strawberry bushes and started to pick. They hummed as they put them in a small bucket, as Wakatoshi instructed them to, and rinsed them in a bucket his Grandfather made. After that, they handed the small fat berry to his hand, as he cut off the top part of the berry.

“The leaves are edible, but are annoying to the throat. It’s better to mush them together, since they have good properties for the body.” Wakatoshi explained. Yuri giggled in response, continuing to pick a few more, with a here and there bite to the smallest one.

Yuri might even turn around, and coo, “Look at this, ‘Toshi-Chan! Aw, it’s no bigger than my thumb!” At which Wakatoshi leaned over, uncomfortably on the small blanket his Mother gave him, before nodding. “Do you want to name it? Like a child?”

“Oh great idea! How about, hmm, Plate!”

“Hm?”

“Because strawberries, and plate berries!”

“Ah.” Wakatoshi nodded, and he gave them a small side of the mushed leaves. “This should be enough for both of us. Do you think so?”

“Mhm! Oh, how are the twins?”

Wakatoshi leaned back and took a deep breath. Kazane cried so much he had to wake up Grandmother Nijiko for it. She complained loudly, but went over and in a few hours the silence was gone. Mayumi singlehandedly ate the rest of the prepared milk bottles his Mother made. Wakatoshi lost approximately 3.26 hours of sleep. “They are well.” He said.

“Oh! They’re the cutest!! With their little soft lettuce cheeks-! I can’t wait until I can feed them little berries!” Yuri popped one in their mouth.

“Mayumi-tan loves blueberries. Especially playing with them. Kazane-tan prefers spitting the strawberry seeds in my hair.”

“No wonder you take so many showers, Wakatoshi-Chan!” He ate a bit of the mush, and he looked above at the clouds. Yuri laid next to him, and dipped their finger in the mush.

“Satori-kun told me- you- uh, you got mad. I was wondering where you were after the game.”

“We had to celebrate. Besides that, I could not charge my phone. The TV crew took up all the outlets.”

“Aw, bummer! But still, Wakatoshi-Chan~,” Yuri poked his side. He twitched in response. “You got mad. It was a close game.”

Wakatoshi ate another strawberry dipped in mush. “I won. Do not worry. I am okay.” Yuri laid on their stomach and pouted. “Promise?”

“I would never lie to you, Yuri-Chan.”

“Good. Then critique me on my violin, okay!”

He nodded, as Yuri brought out their violin case. Being best friends with Satori, all sorts of little stickers were on it, especially a large Pokémon one. Wakatoshi crossed his legs as Yuri took their violin out, and their bow. They hummed quietly, tuning the violin and hastily rubbing rosin on the bow. They used the bow on the violin, once- twice -the first made Wakatoshi fear the twins would wake up from their nap- before Yuri played.

The Swan.

Wakatoshi laid back. Yuri closed their eyes, leaning into their instrument, and played. The wind picked up again. And Wakatoshi closed his eyes.

Yuri and he met in freshman year. Wakatoshi saw Yuri come in, shy.

“I am so sorry! I thought this was the auditorium.” Wakatoshi had just worked out. He assumed in their vision, this would be attractive and more romantic. To him he felt more comfortable and relaxed.

“It’s a few more blocks down. But I believe the Coach will not allow music.” Seeing Yuri’s jolt of embarrassment, Wakatoshi added, “But I believe outside is a perfect place to play. I would help you, but I know the plants shall tell you what to do.”

And here, as the wind guided Yuri’s fingers, their bow, the soft and intimate touches to the strings, did Wakatoshi hear how his advice had really counted. From Day 1 to Day Now, their improvement let him smile quietly in pride. They were perfect.

After a few days of waiting for a response from Wakatoshi’s father, it was settled and official. He would join them that night for dinner.

Yuri held onto Wakatoshi’s arm, their middle finger writing characters he could not decipher. He looked around at Grandmother Nijiko holding the twins. Kazane was in a little blue robe and Mayumi in red. His mother opened the door to the wardrobe for Wakatoshi. He wore a tight white shirt, and black sleek pants. He observed a royal purple kimono.

Yuri gulped as they watched his mother gently pinch his ear, “Nuh uh, do the Atlantic Blue.”

“I believe it is Pacific Blue.” Wakatoshi responded as he took that instead, and dawned it. He helped Yuri with their kimono.

“Wow, your family is like, really traditional, Wakatoshi,” they said quietly, looking at Wakatoshi.

“It’s my father’s arrival. Oka-san likes it like this.” He paused, before he continued to help them put it on, “and Oba-san, of course.”

Wakatoshi could not admit it, but he did appreciate it too. The clan was well, they just valued the importance of continuing to be perfect. It was only in their strict rules he did not want his new siblings to be subjected to. Wakatoshi glanced at his left hand. as he tied Yuri’s pink clothes together.

“‘Toshi, remember to smile.” Ms. Ushijima reminded him.

Wakatoshi grimaced. “Yes Oka-san.”

Yuri squeezed his hand, and looked up at him. He gently smiled back.

“Yuri-kun, make sure Wakatoshi doesn’t go on about volleyball again!” Grandmother Nijiko said. His smile faded.

His mother went from the twins, to going to him and attacking his stance.

Ms. Ushijima went on her tippy toes, muttering and complaining about his height, then how his hair was so dry, how he needed to use lotion more, and how filthy he was.

Yuri only stared at their feet. The Ushijimas stared at Wakatoshi, having his mother flick his ear and pinch at his stomach. “Stop eating so much rice! Obviously this sport isn’t putting off enough weight, eh?”

The doorbell rang. Finally, Wakatoshi took a gulp of fresh air as his mother went to the door.

It opened. Wakatoshi couldn’t stop smiling.

Everything seemed to blur and fade into each other. Wakatoshi took his coat. Yuri was taken away. The twins began to cry and whine for food. Ms. Ushijima said nothing.

The dining room in the Ushijima home was tiny. The dinner table was small, made of driftwood from Wakatoshi’s great grandfather. The clinking of dishes were mixed in with the twins crying. Yuri sat uncomfortably. Wakatoshi only ate as he looked at his father.

Mr. Utsui Takashi barely had hair- he was balding. He had a curly like stubble though, and he had developed an annoying, wheezing-like cough after inhaling any sort of food. It seemed his vision got worse, since he had thought the twins were identical. He had to take a double take to Yuri and Wakatoshi before laughing and embracing him tightly. His hands were disgusting. He smelled of fish and B.O.

But Wakatoshi put his face in his neck, and embraced him thrice as tightly once he had seen him minutes ago. Wakatoshi nearly lifted his father from the ground. Now, as Wakatoshi picked at his small serving of possibly 382 pieces of rice and steak, he watched his father talk to Yuri.

“Ah, Wakatoshi, she is so cute! Ooh~,” he pinched Yuri’s cheek who giggled and thanked him, a little awkward. Wakatoshi ate his steak, a little curve on his lips from their interaction.

“Utsui-san, I am so excited! I cannot believe you came all this way, because ‘Toshi-chan is going to nationals!” Yuri smiled.

Wakatoshi’s grandmother stopped feeding the twins and sighed. “It’s not why he came.”

The young man felt the steak he swallowed start to froth in his mouth. He forced it down, and turned to his father. “What is the news that you have?”

“I got fired from my job.” Mr. Utsui said, a little weak. “Well, they laid us off—,”

Ms. Ushijima stood up and gathered the plates. “Your father is coming back to live with us until he finds something good. Hopefully in Tokyo so he can move out again.”

“Y-yes...” Mr. Utsui slouched, but he continued to eat his rice.

Wakatoshi ate his steak, and he quietly let his mother take it as he looked at Yuri’s hand. “Will you be taking care of the twins, then?” he said.

Mr. Utsui opened his mouth, a little confused, but he only sighed, “Ah- well yes. I will. I am also discussing that matter with your mother.”

“Do you need to go to court for it?” Wakatoshi continued to sit as Yuri held onto him, adjusting their feet from the long period of sitting on them.

“No, Oba-san will handle the matters.”

Wakatoshi nodded, and quietly asked his grandmother to be excused. Once she nodded, she eyed his left hand as he helped Yuri up.

“Your lover cannot go. I need to ask them some things as well.”

“Oba-san.” Wakatoshi bowed his head, “they need to stretch out their feet.”

“I don’t care. Sit by me, Yuri-tan.” Yuri looked back, and shooed Wakatoshi off. He bowed, only slightly, before sliding open the doors, and going outside.

The Ushijima Land stretched for only a couple of square acres. Wakatoshi sat down awkwardly by the lake.

It was technically a marsh but his mother never liked him calling it that. He fondly remembered how he invited his team here to train. Goshiki nearly passed out in the fields further West, if Grandmother Nijiko had not taken care of him. Wakatoshi smiled remembering how she pinched his cheeks and cooed, “Goshiki-Bo.”

“Wakatoshi.” He turned, slightly, and Mr. Utsui sat down next to him with a bit of difficulty. “Ah, what a nice night, hm?” he tried to hide his cough.

“Yes.” the young man said.

Mr. Utsui sighed, tapping his fingers and looking off at the side, towards the stars. “H-How is Shiratorizawa?”

“We won against Karasuno a few days ago. My team and I are going to nationals.”

Mr. Utsui smiled. “Ah, perfect, perfect, good for you. I’m happy that it makes you happy.” Wakatoshi looked down. He did not feel anything. The dream that had woken him up this morning has scared him. He had no idea why. “You trained hard for this, hm?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad my son has come all this way. You’ve gotten so big and strong! Tell me, do the twins bother you? I hope the farm work isn't too much either. But you’re 18 now, and-,”

Wakatoshi stood up. He took a deep breath. He simply took off his kimono.

Mr. Utsui blinked. “‘Toshi?”

“I’m going for a run.” The boy ran without a word to his father. He was glad Mr. Utsui didn’t follow. Because Wakatoshi began to cry.

After a good ten minute run, Wakatoshi took yet another shower once he got back. He now wore his pajamas. A big shirt he had been gifted once from Mr. Utsui, and Pokemon themed pants he got from Satori a year ago.

Wakatoshi went to the entrance of his home, holding Yuri’s hands. It was time to say goodbye to Yuri-Chan. “Your Grandma is so weird.” they giggled, trying to hush their voice. That made no sense to him, really. Grandmother Nijiko heard everything.

“She is my blood. I got it from her.” Yuri giggled and kissed him softly, and he did in return. “You’re so weird~,”

“Yes.” He wanted to go inside already. He needed to think of what the matter was with his father. But he needed to also stall for Yuri to feel safe.

“Heh, okay, tomorrow is my practice.” They pulled him close and cooed, “I’ll see you?”

“Of course.” He stared at their features. He remembered hearing a few opposing volleyball players try to bully Yuri. He made sure they lost within two sets. For Yuri was like a flower to Wakatoshi- they had a timeless beauty. He loved staring at the shape of their eyes, how their nose scrunched ever so slightly when they smiled, and especially, when their irises dilated. He never felt such an intense feeling pull himself toward her.

They hugged him tightly. “Love you, ‘Toshi-Chan.”

“I love you too.”

After another kiss, Yuri-Chan’s aunt pulled up in her car. With another wave, Yuri had disappeared from his grasp. Wakatoshi was all alone.

☆彡

The Last Set. Wakatoshi took his stance as one of the outer blockers. He watched the ball be served by the Karasuno Crows. The Samurai Crow, Asahi, paused before spiking, causing Wakatoshi to miss his timing on the block. On the next turn, when Kenjiro sets, Wakatoshi returns his point as he spikes against the block. In games, he lets Satori do the blocking, since he is better. Wakatoshi is smart, he has no doubt about that in this sport, but he knows his teammate’s instinctual guess is better than anything. When Satori went left, Wakatoshi followed and blocked it correctly. He quietly nodded as Satori beamed with pride.

After another few more scores, Wakatoshi blinked at the sudden point Karasuno took. His eyebrows were raised as he drank his water. He was surprised by the new attack Karasuno made. Never in his years of volleyball research, of play, did he believe it could work against his strong team, or actually score. They were extremely fearless.

Wakatoshi frowned at himself when Reon missed. But now he can make a point to honor him, and also win back the lead. As he spiked, he spotted the little short Libero, the Lightning Bolt Crow Yu. He frowned, and he spiked quickly to his left. It was quick, causing a jolt of pain to his shoulder, but it did the trick for them to get a point.

Despite that, the Blond Crow, Kei, tried to go against him. Which made him annoyed. This tiny blocker, tried to go against his immeasurable strength? Wakatoshi huffed quietly.

Wakatoshi hated how Kei knew how to one touch, how to time his spikes perfectly. But he didn’t even have the strength like Satori did. He was just a wannabe Satori. And no one is like Satori. And such thoughts, that the young man had, made his strength greater with the stress of the Blond Crow. Kei made a grave mistake. Pissing off the Miracle Boy.

With the next point to be made, and with his new power up that Kei unknowingly gave Wakatoshi, the Miracle Boy then, out of pure anger, made sure he could not play. Using his entire body weight, he made sure that Kei was out. Against Kei’s perfect block, Wakatoshi had spiked so hard to Kei’s right fingers, he heard the crack.

As Wakatoshi landed, he turned away. He had scored. And Kei would be gone.

After Karasuno’s kerfuffle of Kei’s condition, now Wakatoshi could serve. Now that the Blond Crow was gone, just a few more points were made by him and Wakatoshi could see Father.

“Bring it!” Karasuno yelled.

Bring it? Wakatoshi thought. How amusing. He will. He threw the ball up, jumped, and struck it hard. The Samurai Crow hit it in the air, his skin turning red from impact. Typical. Karasuno was playing yet another synchronized attack. But Wakatoshi saw how Satori eyed Sugawara’s shoes, and jumped immediately. The Captain relaxed at seeing Satori’s correct guess, and watched. He watched Satori glare down at the boy, a blush blooming on his pale cheeks. Wakatoshi could not help but smirk to himself as well.

The Eagles were soaring far above the Crows.

The Last Set. Wakatoshi, being a not loud person, clapped for Satori as the rest of his team screamed. Satori’s blocks were always one to be celebrated. His skills were amazing, and were an important asset to the team.

After switching sides, Wakatoshi served. But he can feel himself getting tired, as he jumped he got a blurry vision and hit the ball to the net. He makes a genuine apology, deciding to let his team do some more of the heavy lifting. After all, the Blond Crow was gone.

But seeing the Chibi-Chan, Shoyo Hinata, Wakatoshi stood taller. He scowled at the boy. Kenjiro sensed his anger, and set the ball to the Ace. Now he spiked it down. But no. As if the boy was blessed only with his speed, he saw, in awe, how the boy caught the damn ball with his face. Satori missed his spike, the two comrades tched at the boy. Wakatoshi could feel his and Satori’s hatred at the boy’s talentless smile. Even more so, what made Wakatoshi steam further was that Shoyo still scored points. Not only was he reckless, he always just went for his head. It made the Ace sick to his stomach. Ungrateful runt.

Wakatoshi had not doubted he wouldn’t win, but now he wanted to crush the small boy. He wanted to win just as bad as he did.

After the next loss, due to Satori’s overthinking, Wakatoshi tried not to chuckle at seeing Satori get yelled at by the Coach. Despite the hilarity, now the Captain had to make up for Satori’s lost concentration. Right now he couldn’t depend on him. Right now he needs to win. Even if Satori can’t pick up his slack.

The first years’ reckless quick attack. Wakatoshi hated it. Speed was all he had. Nothing like the great rival Wakatoshi had expected him to be; no, just Stupid, Small, Sly Shoyo.

Wakatoshi can hear Yuri-Chan cheer loudly from the bleachers with his school. He heard his school cheer proudly after Eita’s no touch serve, only to find Karasuno's ridiculous cheering. Now he turned around, to his team, and he furrowed his brows. He looked upon their glistening faces. “We Shall Finish This.” Now all of Shiratorizawa sang aloud. Perfect. A traditional song. A traditional strength of his. He will beat all of Karasuno, if he has to, to the ground.

Wakatoshi watched as Shoyo reflected his spike, and made what should’ve been his point, theirs. He never wanted anything more than to crush Shoyo as he did to Kei. He clenched his fists and turned away.

Goshiki talked. Gushed about the Shrimp. “Can you believe it, Wakatoshi? It’s like his speed can power through your strength!” The Ace said nothing in response.

Stupid Shoyo....he shouldn’t have done that at all.

Goshiki was trying to prove himself, to help Wakatoshi’s previous loss- Wakatoshi felt like he was trying to watch paint dry.

In retaliation, Wakatoshi hit hard against the New Crow despite the Samurai Crow’s time block that he copied from the Blond Crow. But now he felt his arm throb. Store. He would need to wait until he can use all of his strength to beat them. To finish this. But first, Wakatoshi needed to calm himself down.

He needed a replacement.

Wakatoshi turned to the smaller, youngest member. He put his hand on his shoulder, and made strong eye contact. “Goshiki. Do not panic, you have much talent. Let us finish this.”

Wakatoshi moved out of the way, and he caught his breath. Goshiki made a great point. As he planned. As he should. So he can finish beautifully. It was often like the paintings his Uncle Hideaki would make, little colors mixing in, adding up to the pine forests next to the Ushijima Acres. What Goshiki did was pure art. With a serve to get them back in the lead. With Goshiki’s now flared ego, Wakatoshi knew he could lead this. He had successfully stored up enough energy, and calmed himself down-

A tie.

He noticed Coach staring at him. As Captain, as Ace, as a Volleyball Player. He needed to win for him as well. He lowered his stance. Kenjiro made the set to, The Traditional Wakatoshi, The Traditional Strength, The God, spiked hard to the Libero Crow. The ball flew past.

One More Point. Wakatoshi heard. One More Point. Because they are stronger.

But who came running back? Just as they were winning, for one more point. The Blond Crow had flown back to the game.

The Last Set. 15 Shiratorizawa. 14 Karasuno.

Wakatoshi wanted to crush his dreams, and now his other fingers. Yunohama came in, but Satori read failed on a part of the play against Tobio. Wakatoshi wanted to say something to the Blond Crow. But he realized he did not despise him like Shoyo. Only found him as an obstacle to crush.

Wakatoshi reminded Kenjiro. “Use me mercilessly.” He had enough stamina. He needed to be ready to beat the dreams of these foolish crows. As Reon made the ball go up, Wakatoshi struck Kenjiro’s fake set, right at Kei. He stared him down during their fall. He felt himself puff out his chest. He talked with his glowing eyes, as if saying, I can beat you.

Wakatoshi needed to serve again, but at the stupid Libero. He felt his thighs shake as he readied himself. He leaped up high, and hit the net to fool them.

But it didn’t work.

Satori couldn’t block the return attack. And now Karasuno was in the lead. Despite how hard Wakatoshi used his strength to get through the Blond Crow. During Coach’s timeout, Wakatoshi squeezed the pouches the twins had packed for him. Every game. Every practice. The twins packed him a little juice pouch.

He relaxed. His legs really needed to sit. A lot. Despite how tired he was from that run, he caught his breath. Kenjiro asked if he can still be used. He saw his teammate’s red, exhausted faces. This game was worrying them. Karasuno was in the lead.

Wakatoshi agreed with a warm smile. Because now he can win, with real, strong teamwork. Everyone depended on him. “Use me.”

On the court, the Libero saved it from the Samurai crow’s attack. Meaning he can serve, and he- It didn’t count. He tried to push it far. But his shoulder ached. Stupid Shoyo. Too late. He was too quick. Wakatoshi felt his muscles ache, like quiet screams.

This time, he spiked inside. Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi was breathing heavily. But, he looked up, and grunted out of happiness. Stupid Shoyo!! He thought to himself.

Reon served. But, Shoyo made the next point.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi smiled though, when Shoyo tried to quick attack, and Satori blocked it. But he didn’t grimace out of disappointment. He only kept thinking.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi watched the ball on the next attack. He watched Hinata not jump. His legs froze. Stupid Shoyo. He congratulated Goshiki on the new point, with a nod as he went to the net.

He watched the ball slowly fall as a new play began. Another point-

The Libero. Wakatoshi felt the ball slip through his block. He hated the feeling as he grimaced at the passing and quick sting to his pinky. Wakatoshi stood and watched the Blond Crow figure out their attacks, he couldn’t help but now feel the same sense of annoyance as with Shoyo. He needed to truly show them who was going to win.

The Last Set. Hinata served. They do a minus tempo back attack. Shoyo spiked at Taichi. When he failed, Wakatoshi picked it up and yelled at his server. It’s time. Merciless Attack.

He wanted to hit. He wanted to hit Stupid Shoyo’s face so hard. Kenjiro noted Wakatoshi’s burning fury. Goshiki whimpered under his breath as he ran. But Wakatoshi flew up, and he spiked it to three blockers. But he spiked it right at their setter.

No point. The ball went up.

His nose flared, and he grunted underneath his breath.

Those crows.

Those.

Those damn crows.

THOSE BASTARD CROWS DARED DEFY HIM. HE HAD NEVER FELT SUCH HEAT IN HIS BODY; AS IF LAVA HAD BEEN SPURTING OUT OF HIM IN RAGE. SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO CROWS WEAKLY FIGHT; SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO WEAKLY TRY AND CONTINUE TO FIGHT AGAINST HIS STRENGTH. HE WAS PINNING THEM DOWN.

THE BALD CROW PICKED IT UP. CHANCE BALL.

WAKATOSHI COULDN’T STOP. HE NEEDED TO FIGHT.

STUPID SHOYO NEEDED TO LOSE!

This time, Shoyo flew up in the all out quick attack. Wakatoshi saw the ball. Where it went. Down. On his side. He felt his throat being choked, by someone.

Beneath him.

Wakatoshi saw it. He shook Shoyo’s hand and walked away. His face was grim. He saw Coach;s face staring at Shoyo. He noted how Satori was painted, with a tear falling down his face. How Goshiki sobbed. Reon staring at his hand. The Libero panting, his face a bright red.

Wakatoshi heard it. A flat thanks. No one spoke. Except the single mutter, “I thought we couldn’t lose.”

Wakatoshi smelled the salt, he saw the youngest shake and cry, hugging his broad body. A single, disappointed turn from the Coach. A flat, “hit 100 serves when we get back.”

“Wakatoshi, didn’t you get mad?” Satori asked.

Wakatoshi felt his body relax. His inner thigh was being stretched out. He paused. “I wanted to say I am stronger than them. Isn’t that childish? I wanted to say it.”

“Childish reasons are what drives us. What a great game.” A pause. “I’m quitting volleyball. I’m going to watch you on TV and brag about how we were best friends.” Satori giggled. “It’ll be fun to be interviewed about you when you get big and famous!”

21 Karasuno. 19 Shiratorizawa.

He turned away to the bright smiles of the first year duo. The Great Eagles had lost their feathers.

Wakatoshi woke up with a gasp as he held his throat. He panted, beads of sweat dripping down his bare chest. He groaned quietly, and he held his head.

It was a dream. A Dream.

Stupid Shoyo...he had invaded his dreams. And Wakatoshi looked at his left hand. He held the trophy.

He had held the trophy. Not the Karasuno Crows. He did. He touched it. And no one else could ever take that feeling away from him.

Wakatoshi turned on the bath again in his personal restroom, and got in. He sat in complete silence, and he filled the bucket with water. He dumped it upon himself. It was cold. He let his body shiver. He let himself sink as he weakly washed himself.

He heard his dad snore a few rooms down. But the worst thing that Wakatoshi did that night was cry.

☆彡

Wakatoshi knocked on the door to Coach Washijo’s room. “Wakatoshi-kun, come in.”

The boy walked inside, and blinked softly. He wore his school uniform, freshly ironed. “Coach Washijo. May I sit down?”

“Of course.” Wakatoshi pulled out the chair, and sat, he looked at his feet. Coach Washijo sighed, and he looked to the windows. “You know it, hm?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “We do not deserve this trophy.”

“I am already surprised you finished your punishment. I am extremely disappointed by the fact you brought the Chibi-Chan on our school grounds before. And for the game itself, Captain.”

Wakatoshi moved the chairs aside and he got on his knees, bowing his head. “I do not deserve the title as Captain.”

“Neither does anyone else on the team, son. But, I was the one who called you in here,” Coach Washijo went to him, and tapped his back. Wakatoshi slowly got up, and looked down. “I am proud. Don’t tell the others this, Wakatoshi-kun. That was a close game. I need you to practice with everyone. Get everyone ready for the Nationals. You deserve it.”

Wakatoshi bowed. “Thank you, Coach.”

As he left, his mind became fogged. How, how could he have even let himself be seen like that? Coach knew. Coach and he are the only ones, only ones who know the Karasunos were so, so so close to becoming the winners.

So.

Close.

Wakatoshi turned to the restroom quickly, and he began to breathe heavily. He loosened his tie as he stared into the sink. That close. Two points away from his dreams, his father, everything he had known into the sink, washed away because of Shoyo.

“STUPID SHOYO!”

With the force of thunder, he punched the mirror. He panted, and looked at his reflection. The mirror didn’t shatter. The boy sighed as he turned on the sink, and washed his face. He rinsed it, as the water turned hot. Hot. Hot. Hot-

He held onto the sink, gasping for air. He remembered it. He remembered his mother scrubbing him fiercely with a wood scrubber. “Wakatoshi you need to start scrubbing!” She picked at his hair. “You need to start getting off those dead skin cells!” She ripped off anything that came off him. “Or else no one will like you! You wanna end up like your Dad? I married him out of pity! He was supposed to give me money!”

Wakatoshi held onto the sink, panting again as he washed his face. No. No he did not want to be like his father. Injured. No, that's why he ate well. He treated his body well. Run no less than five laps around the acres. Avoid the tree stump to the right. He could never, ever end up like his dad.

He threw his head up and panted as he stared at himself. His skin was pink. He felt nothing on his skin. He only sighed. He grabbed the paper towels and wiped his face. He started to cry.

He was so close to ending up like his Dad. Like Tooru. No. He is strong. He got to Nationals.

He’s living his true, and only dream.

Then why is The Miracle Boy panicking?

☆彡

The lunch room was bustled, filled with happy and chattering students from the game that happened a week ago. The chefs served sushi today. Yuri was away in the auditorium for practice.

Wakatoshi ate with his team. Satori smiled. “Wow! Did Yuri give you good luck concerts for their concert, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“No.” he responded, eating a salmon roll after.

Eita sighed, “Well, I hear they’re playing with that new transfer, Choboyo-kun.”

Wakatoshi looked up, and scowled. “Oh.”

“Ooh, Eita-kun you’re going to get Wakatoshi-kun so angry!!” Satori laughed.

Wakatoshi continued to eat, and he frowned as he looked down. It was one of his worst flaws. Jealousy. Shoyo. Tooru. Despite how they collapsed, how they looked up in anger, he knew they still probably had nice days. Tooru probably was nice with his nephew. Shoyo had hugged his best friends. Wakatoshi had his teammates and the twins. Yuri and he had been dating for a year, four months, and 27 days. The thought of Yuri being with another boy, of course it was rational he would get upset.

Besides, Yuri never told him of anything remotely close to the concert for that night. He continued to eat. He would tell them later.

☆彡

Wakatoshi slammed the ball against the ball in a beat. One two, one two three. He remembered the beat from a lullaby his Uncle Ushijima Hideaki sang to him. He threw the ball up, and ran, staring at the ball. He wanted nothing more, like Left Handing Hideaki, than to show his strength. He hit the other side of the net.

Satori, Goshiki, and Kenjiro were across Wakatoshi. Taichi and Eita were with Wakatoshi. He watched as Satori took the first hit, giving Kenjiro time to serve to Goshiki. Wakatoshi moved with Taichi to go for a block. Wakatoshi jumped early, but blocked Goshiki’s spike.

“One touch!” Taichi yelled. He jumped down, as Wakatoshi quickly caught the ball and moved it up. Eita made a pretty decent set. Wakatoshi did not want to upset him by saying it was much too far from the net, but he jumped.

Satori jumped perfectly. A great timing block.

Wakatoshi froze. He saw Satori’s crazy blood red eyes flash into the Blond Crow. Wakatoshi smacked down the ball.

“FUCK!”

The game stopped, and everyone went to Satori’s hand. He winced quietly, and he flexed his middle finger. His comrades gasped out of grotesque. “Wakatoshi-kun! Shit-, you do scare me!”

“Sorry.” Wakatoshi panted. He was sweaty. He was sticky and sweaty. He wanted to shower.

“Is everything—?” Coach Saito started.

“Let’s put Hayato in while we practice.” Wakatoshi grabbed the ball, walking over. “We need to make sure we win the next game.”

“Captain, we did win.” Goshiki gently took Satori close, wrapping his fingers with a tape.

Wakatoshi scowled. He didn’t want to admit to his comrades they barely won. Stupid Shoyo almost took away their name of the Great Eagles. But he turned away. “One more game, then Eita and I shall take Satori to Nurse Yui.”

Everyone gave a hesitant agreement. Wakatoshi sighed, he banged the ball against the wooden ground. He looked across the net.

Six players in black and orange uniforms. Goshiki’s hair had faded to the Captain Crow. The foolish Lightning Libero Crow. Kenjiro looked so much like Tobio.

Wakatoshi twitched. He threw the ball up. Not again. Not again. He leaped into the air, and he felt- no he saw Goshiki move. Shoyo. He spiked hard, past Hayato, past Goshiki’s defense, so hard the ball had flown to the ceiling, and had gotten stuck in a beam.

Wakatoshi panted, his muscles spasming, and he looked at Goshiki with anger. He showed him. He showed him he is the strongest. He showed him no matter how hard he would train like Tooru he would not—

Satori gripped his arm. Wakatoshi stopped breathing. His best friend frowned. “Wakatoshi. You won.”

☆彡

Yuri smiled and they held Wakatoshi’s hand. They had been wandering the neighborhood for awhile, and now Yuri was just beginning to look at the music stores and babbling about their new deep desire for something about a gem. They said it would make the music sound crystal clear.

“Is it not clear already?” The boy asked.

“Silly! No!! It needs to be perfect for the concert!”

The concert. Wakatoshi followed them around, and after the eighth story about how they loved little stuffed animals, he asked, “Who is Choboyo?”

“And- huh? Oh! Choboyo-Senpai! He’s in university, so he offered to play with me! He’s a little bit much though...”

Wakatoshi went closer as Yuri continued in telling their story. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuri looked over and sighed. “Because look at you! Wakatoshi-Chan, you’re slouching. Don’t worry, he’s only in the background of my performance for tomorrow. Now come on! Chin up~! I need to pick out a good outfit for tomorrow! I wanted you to help!”

Wakatoshi was too tired to disagree, despite him having promised his mother to babysit the twins. That morning. He knew Grandmother Nijiko would tell Ms. Ushijima, and he knew he would be subjected to the marsh cleaning, but, seeing Yuri’s smile as they picked out a strawberry shirt for their suit, was enough for him to think;

“Who cares?”

Wakatoshi was benched. Coach Saito had explained to Wakatoshi that he had to maintain his speed before he could be put back on the court. Which was perfect. During lunch, privately, he practiced. It was better for him then.

No more Karasuno Crows.

But tonight, the concert hall had changed. However, Wakatoshi's face was non wipeable of his scowl. He wore a hand me down of Mr. Utsui’s suit. It smelled horrible. It was stiff.

“Ah~, Yuri-kun!” Choboyo was indeed a young man, with a stubble, messy and sleek white hair, his eyes a never-ending black.

Wakatoshi scowled as he watched Yuri hug him. Yuri wore a lovely green suit, their hair pulled back.

They were so beautiful.

“Choboyo! This is my boyfriend, Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s a volleyball player- He’s going to the National Championship!”

The young men stared at each other. Wakatoshi nodded. “Good luck.”

“We say break a leg, actually.” He only despised him even more, now. “Come on, Yuri,” Wakatoshi eyed his hand. His right hand lingered on Yuri’s waist, on their shoulders, and on their hands.

Wakatoshi sighed to himself.

Yuri turned. “Is something wrong?” Choboyo also looked, raising a white eyebrow of his. Wakatoshi gripped his fists and he scowled at Choboyo.

“You like Yuri-Chan. My partner.”

“Wakatoshi—!”

“I won’t lie.” Choboyo took his hands off Yuri, “They’re very attractive.”

Wakatoshi widened his eyes. He didn’t expect the man to just admit it. It was almost like he was trying to be a pervert.

“E-excuse us,” Yuri put a hand to Choboyo’s chest. “I-I’ll be right there.” Yuri sighed as Choboyo smirked to himself, kissed their hand, and walked away.

Wakatoshi stepped closer. “Do you not see this? He’s a pervert.”

“It’s one performance,” Yuri said, rubbing their arm. “Don’t you realize this is why I’ve been asking you to be with me? W-why I’ve been playing more around you, and not practicing here? I know.”

He blinked. He wanted to say something. Anything. He gulped. He blinked. “Yuri-Chan. I do not think you should play with him.”

Yuri looked up with teary eyes. “If you’re not going to be here to support me right now, I-I want you to leave. I can’t do this right now, ‘Toshi. I want to take a break.”

He gulped. “Yuri, perhaps you should think straight. D-don’t—.”

“I’ll see you around.” They turned around, and just like that, Wakatoshi again, was alone.

☆彡

Wakatoshi locked the door behind him. He sat on his bed. It creaked. Across the hall, he heard the twins.

The twins.

He got up as fast as he could, and he went to their room. Everything in the room was painted pink, and had little birds that twittered happily with the characters of bird songs next to their beaks. The room was split into Mayumi’s play space, and then Kazane’s.

Wakatoshi squatted down.

The twins were on the floor, Mayumi’s foot was in her mouth. Kazane was trying to climb back in her crib. Her left hand was on the crib. Wakatoshi picked up Kazane, and started to hum.

Before he had heard his mother and father fight, he actually wanted to sing. He remembered seeing his father’s sisters all perform and sing. It made him stare in awe. The twirling of their batons, of their voices, their silks. Wakatoshi adored it. He once thought of himself there, dancing.

It was Grandfather Ushijima Touma who frowned at catching him. “Nijiko.” he had stated firmly. “He is pretending to be a daughter.” Wakatoshi had never felt such pain as he did that evening.

But being an artist was worse. That was when they discovered he had a tendency to write with his left hand. Just like the exiled Uncle Hideaki. He was supposedly in Germany.

“You had let him draw?!” cried Ms. Ushijima. Her parents stood next to her. She gripped his hand. “Does this look right to you? Huh, Takashi?!”

It was only his father. Little, nothing for brains, Mr. Utsui, who stood in front of his son. “He’s just a boy! He’ll use it for-for something great! You just wait!”

Wakatoshi picked up Mayumi as well, and began to hum. He began to quietly sing the lullaby. An old song. It was about change. About the discovery of an island. About how the tide changed with each roll onto the warm sand. Yes, everything to the nude eye was the same, but change happened. With tradition, came slow, but sure, change.

He lifted his baby sisters above him. He teared up. “This forbidden, new world, on a summer day we meet.” Mayumi was the only one awake now. He hummed as he knelt beside her. “On a summer day, we will meet again, Imoto-san.”

“Wakatoshi?” The boy turned, with teary eyes as Mayumi drifted into sleep. Mr. Utsui stood there, his mouth slack open. He closed it. “I didn’t know you sang.”

“Me either.” Wakatoshi stood up.

Mr. Utsui looked away, “Ah- well, Wakatoshi, why don’t we go outside?” He nodded and stood, awkwardly following him outside.

The sun was setting to the west of the Ushijima Acres. Wakatoshi sat on an old swing. Mr. Utsui sat next to him. Wakatoshi made sure not to look at his father; for he smelled horribly.

“Son, I- well, I have some news about you and your sisters.” Wakatoshi looked at him. Mr. Utsui had gained many splotches of white on his face, and wrinkles.

“Yes?”

“I got a job out of Miyagi Prefecture. I’m taking the twins with me. You will continue to live with your mother.”

Wakatoshi paused. He looked out at the sunset. “No.”

Mr. Utsui wheezed out of his age, “I beg your pardon?”

“You have not been here for the divorce. You were not there for Oka-san when she gave birth. You were not there to take care of the girls. You were not even here for me.” Wakatoshi looked at the sun, and it disappeared.

“You do not deserve the twins.”

The boy got up, before he stopped. His shirt was caught on something. He tugged. To no avail. He tugged and he- Wakatoshi had stumbled, back, he was trying to regain himself.

But everything flashed.

Yuri.

Kazane.

Mayumi.

Mr. Utsui.

Ms. Ushijima.

Grandmother Nijiko

Grandfather Touma.

Kei.

Shoyo.

Himself.

Wakatoshi had fallen into the marsh, and he had passed out into the water.

☆彡

Wakatoshi awoke, to Kazane biting his finger. He gasped, and he groaned. He began to gently flex his body, and groan again. “O-oka-san-?”

“Hold still.” Ms. Ushijima scrubbed his body. “You nearly drowned in the lake. Ugh, look at the water! Oka-san!” she cried. She wore a bra- she never wore such things. Sweatpants?

Were Satori’s theories true? Did alternate universes exist?

“Oka-san- agh- I-I cannot-,”

Ms. Ushijima smacked his face. Satori was wrong, alternate universes did not exist. “Still, I said! You banged up your knee pretty badly.”

Wakatoshi sat up, practically leapt up, but he moaned loudly in pain. “N-No, no. No- O-oka-san- please- I can’t-!”

“Shut up, you’ll heal if you sit still!”

Wakatoshi looked up, and started to cry. “I-I won’t win. Oka-san,” he hugged her, he cried in her neck. “I-I won't a-able to play! I’ll fail at nationals! Tell me!!” He held her tightly as he looked at her.

Ms. Ushijima stared down at her son.

Wakatoshi had clear snot on his upper lip. His tears were salty, and stained his cheeks as they dripped down into the tub. He was only in his bare underwear. The water was marshy. He had a rose colored bruise blossom on his knee.

Ms. Ushijima took his chin. “Listen to me, Wakatoshi. If you sit absolutely still, I’ll see what I can do. Just,” she heard the baby whimper.

“O-oni. . .” one of the twins started to cry.

Wakatoshi sniffled, and he looked at Kazane. Ms. Ushijima gave the baby to him. “Kazane-kun, go comfort your Oni-tan.”

“Oni~!” Kazane wrapped her chubby arms around him, then Mayumi as Ms. Ushijima placed her on him. Mayumi, adorably, finished her sister’s sentence, “tan!”

Wakatoshi smiled, and he softly cried, as Ms. Ushijima lifted up his right leg. “It’s alright, Wakatoshi-tan, I’m here.” She held it with care, and repeated, quietly as she wet some rags, “I’m here.”

☆彡

It was the night of the concert. Wakatoshi wore his school outfit, despite it being the weekend. He told his parents it’s on school grounds. They did not argue.

Goshiki found out about his injury. He had gotten the word out. Wakatoshi had been numb the entire night. He went to bed the night before, sleeping with his sisters in their room. He had awoken to their stuffed animals on his face.

Mr. Utsui chuckled about how their first word was for their elder brother. Grandmother Nijiko spoke nothing as she ate breakfast with him.

Satori sat next to Wakatoshi, wearing a hoodie, and he smiled. “Yuri-kun looks awfully pretty today, huh Wakatoshi-kun~?”

Wakatoshi said nothing. He only looked down. Strangely, he did not want to get up this morning. He did not want to do anything. He felt as if he should retire from life.

The Miracle Boy was supposed to be strong.

Never to get hurt.

And yet, here he was. Pathetically existing next to his family. He did not even mention to them that Yuri did not love him anymore. He did not tell anyone, either, of his sisters moving away from him.

They sat on his lap though, pacifiers in their mouths.

“Wakatoshi-kun, your sisters are so so so cute!” Satori laughed as he picked up Mayumi. She began to whine, aher pigtails bouncing as her blue eyes stared at Satori in fury. She fussed before Wakatoshi gently put her on his lap.

“She does not like to be held from under the arms. Only by her stomach, Despite her being ticklish there, she loves it.”

Satori smiled softly. “You love them a lot. Were they there for you when-?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “Yes. They were born right after. Oka-san was tired. They kept me company.” He paused. “I do not know what to do without them.”

Satori sighed softly, “I understand.”

The lights dimmed. A hush over the audience. The auditorium was huge and packed.

Yuri, and Choboyo came out. Yuri was so uncomfortable. Their eyes looked down at the ground. Choboyo grabbed the microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for our performance tonight! I gotta say- Yuri has something great planned out!”

The two turned to the middle of the stage. Yuri nodded. They held a different violin. It was not theirs.

Choboyo went to his grand piano proudly, and he looked at Yuri’s body, then at their eyes. They both looked at each other, finally, nodded and looked away. After a few seconds, Choboyo started off.

Wakatoshi hated it. He pounded a key, then followed it as if he was trying to sing a love song for Yuri.

Despite the famous classical song, it was still the one Yuri had played what seemed like eons ago. The Swan.

Here it went by the Carnival of Animals.

But Wakatoshi knew what Yuri was trying to replicate. But their music, their bow, the sound made Wakatoshi cringe.

It was not the joy, peaceful, calm song Yuri played in the land. Here, mixed in with Choboyo’s romantic noise; was their song of sorrow. They focused, as if on the music, and not on their own play.

Wakatoshi looked down. Two birds. One defeated. Another attack for more.

The song ended.

Wakatoshi clapped, his hands smacking like thunder, and Yuri looked at him, just for a moment. They went backstage, and the next duo came out. The song was the infamous Clair De Lune.

“Wakatoshi?”

He looked at his dad beside him. Mr. Utsui showered the night before due to falling in the marsh to save Wakatoshi. He had done his hair. He had also shaved.

“Your mother and I talked, we decided that I’ll live here. After my first paycheck I’ll get a good car, so I can drive in and out of the Prefecture. And, son?” Mr. Utsui moved in closer.

Wakatoshi suddenly teared up. When he was little, he remembered exactly how his father smelled when he protected him from the traditional rules that had ached his once frail bones.

Like hot sand.

Mr. Utsui, in that moment, murmured into Wakatoshi’s ear, as the song had ended, “I am so proud you got into Nationals. Keep working hard. Keep getting stronger for us.”

As Wakatoshi’s hot tears fell, he whispered, looking at his father, “T-Thank you, Oto-san.”

☆彡

Wakatoshi had bounced the ball. He stood firmly on his right leg. He breathed in deeply. He eyed his friend across from him, and Mr. Utsui who held the twins. Mayumi was on the sand, babbling and trying to eat it.

“Imoto-san, do not try to eat the sand, okay?” Wakatoshi looked across to his sister.

“Oni~!” Kazane cried with a laugh.

Wakatoshi chuckled, and he gently bounced the ball. The sand underneath his sneakers. His deep and panting breath. He looked at his friend with a soft smile.

Satori panted himself, his red hair sticking to his forehead. He only smiled widely with happiness.

Wakatoshi breathed deeply, and calmed himself.

Satori and he, underneath the midnight moon.

Wakatoshi served. Satori dived under and threw the ball up, before spiking. Wakatoshi, with great speed, blocked and Satori read him. Satori gathered himself again to throw the ball, set, then spike. Now Wakatoshi served it to himself, and he quickly set it. He now went to the left, and spiked hard right. Satori tried to follow for a moment, before he watched the ball slam beside him. Satori, however, blocked enough to make a dump. Wakatoshi nodded.

A great defense.

Satori smiled with a small breath of relief, “Wakatoshi-kun, I love playing with you, but you scare me.”

The young man smiled as he went underneath the net to get it. “I try my best to be a Strong Monster as well.”

“How scary!” Satori gasped, and Wakatoshi took the ball. He spun the ball as Mr. Utsui cheered happily.

“Go Wakatoshi-kun!”

“Are you okay? I know your dad is back.” Satori said quietly.

Wakatoshi turned around. “It’s okay. I-I’m not happy he is back.”

Satori widened his eyes. “Oh?”

Wakatoshi sat beside him against the barn. The Ushijima space was so peaceful now. Not in a flash as he usually saw it. Wakatoshi took a deep breath again. “He came to announce he lost his job. He told me he was happy and I was happy. Not that he was proud.” Wakatoshi began to practice throwing the ball up and setting, as if it was instinct. “I was thinking. I am not happy. We nearly lost, Satori.”

His friend looked up at the stars. “I wanted to quit after that game.”

Wakatoshi stopped. He looked at his friend. “But you have so much—,”

“Those memories won’t stop flowing. Once we win nationals, Wakatoshi-kun, that’s when I’ll stop. Seeing your smile hold that big, big trophy, that’s when I’ll quit. Because then you won’t need me, and I won’t need you anymore.” Satori smiled. “I love you.”

Wakatoshi opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it. He closed his eyes, before he looked at Satori. “I love you too, Satori. Thank you for being by my side.”

They both, slowly, turned to gaze at the stars.

“So, you’ll recommend me for a movie interview, right Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Perhaps.”

☆彡

Snow drifted down. It fell against Yuri’s umbrella.

“Wait!”

Yuri stopped walking, and took out their earbuds as they turned around. They widened their eyes. “Wakatoshi-ch-? What are you- Why are you running?” Yuri started.

Wakatoshi winced, and he sighed. He hid a huge dandelion bouquet behind his back, with a small box.

“Yuri-Chan.” the young man panted, “I-I am not the strongest. I lost a lot of things in the past few days. I gained some of them back.” He showed the bouquet, and the box.

“I should have focused on you, my flower. On your music. I went to your concert. You did not practice, did you? It is alright. I do not want to jump back to our relationship if you are not ready. I believe we should go back to the beginning, Yuri-Chan. If you like, we can go back to my farm, and I can listen to you play, and play, and play until we fall asleep.”

Wakatoshi, after a moment, opened the box. There was Yuri’s dream sapphire blue rosin. One swipe, said the ad on it, and the bow is brand new.

“I will always love you. But I was not okay. Now, if you take me back, I will be. Then I will never break that promise.”

Yuri looked at his big tearful eyes. “I love you, stupid!” Yuri cried and they jumped on him, tackling him. The couple held each other, with laughter and deep chuckles as they cuddled close in the soft winter wind. In an act of warmth, Yuri hugged. In an act of love, Wakatoshi kissed.

The couple was late for their classes that morning.

☆彡

Wakatoshi rinsed his face in the sink, lightly with cold water. Goshiki stood beside him by making faces. Reon patted the youngster’s back, and laughed. Eita instructed, but also listened to Kenjiro. Satori sang to himself.

The clinking of the lights above the young man began to go into a rhythm. His eyes tilted up, and he blinked. Once. Twice. And again.

He, and his teammates, were in a full purple volleyball outfit. The Number One on his shirt was bold white. His muscles flexed gently when he looked at his short olive hair. His eyes glimmered seeing where he was. How he was there.

The young man smiled to himself.

“Great Eagles.” The young man who played volleyball said, “Let’s finish this.”

#haikyu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu angst #shiratorizawa #Shiratorizawa angst #ushijima angst #ushijima x y/n #hq ushijima #Shiratorizawa Nationals au #ushijima wakatoshi #dee writes #ushijima fluff #anime scenarios #haikyu scenarios #happy birthday Ushijima #:)

40 notes · View notes

cryoculus · 5 years ago

Text

Lunaris [2/11]

Navigation

Chapter Title: Waxing Crescent Pairing: Yokai!Akaashi Keiji/Reader Word Count: 1,902

***

When you awaken, the sight that greeted you is of a ceiling you've woken up to almost every morning of your life.

"(Name)!" The frantic tone of your grandmother was enough to stun you into alertness, glancing her way as you wondered why she sounded so relieved.

Her lips were stretched into a kind smile as she hovered over your futon, replacing the damp cloth you didn't even notice was on your forehead with a fresh one. The cool feeling of the fabric was more soothing than it should be, but you couldn't pay the sensation any mind because someone else was in the room with you.

"How you do," greeted the gravelly voice of Fujimoto, one of the older monks at your family shrine.

Confused, you hauled yourself by your elbows, wincing at the way your joints threatened to snap off if you weren't careful. Your mouth felt barren of moisture, but it's as if Fujimoto read your mind when he offered you a glass full of water. You hesitantly took it from him, bringing the rim to your lips as you took tiny sips.

"Fujimoto-san just happened to pass by your school when he saw you being carried into an ambulance," your grandmother explained, the worry on her face enough to invoke guilt over something you didn't even remember. "The medics said that your vitals were normal, but you wouldn't wake up. He insisted to have you taken home, instead because he had...an idea of what came over you."

"What?" you managed weakly, turning to the elder man. "You know what happened to me today?"

"Yesterday," he corrected. "You've been unconscious for more than twenty-four hours, young lady. Amatsuki-sama kept insisting for you to be brought to the hospital, but we all know your affliction is not a physical one."

With furrowed brows, you finished the rest of your drink with a satisfied sigh, wiping the edge of your mouth as you asked, "Are you insinuating that I was hexed?"

Fujimoto chuckled. "I'm not insinuating, I know you were hexed. Your little friend, ah, what's her name? Fukuzawa?"

"Furukawa," you replied. "Furukawa Itsumi."

"Yeah, her. She told me that they saw your warding charm glowing like a LED bulb, or at least that's how that girl described it." The way Fujimoto was speaking with a taunting tone about Itsumi, as if him claiming you got hexed wasn't more outlandish, didn't sit well with you. "Well, that just means you were in close contact with a yokai, young lady."

Your heart stopped at that. "A...yokai?"

Growing up in one of Tokyo's oldest shrines had its perks. Instead of child-friendly picture books, you grew up reading manuscripts that depicted the legendary creatures that lurked in your shrine's designated territory alongside your grandmother. She would teach you how to string a proper warding charm with the appropriate beads, for each one invoked protection that repelled specific entities. But for some reason, your grandmother gave you a charm with nothing else but a golden bell hanging from the blessed string. You glanced at the bracelet that still sat idly on your wrist. It looked like it always had been—just a harmless little bell on the string and not the glowing orb of light that nearly scorched your skin.

Your grandmother never really told you what exactly it warded off, but apparently, you'd encountered it yesterday.

"The charms made by the Amatsuki Shrine were specifically made to keep yokai away. If it had been a vengeful ghost or an estranged deity, it wouldn't have reacted so strongly." There was a pause in Fujimoto's words, as he lowered his head in contemplation. But then, his eyes widened with a realization that you couldn't quite follow. He turned to your grandmother, face looking grim.

"Amatsuki-sama," he whispered. "Could it be...?"

You shot your grandmother a curious look, but you knew that she was actively avoiding your gaze. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, casting Fujimoto a look you weren't familiar with.

Amatsuki Futaba, your grandmother, was the current elder of the Amatsuki shrine. She was in charge of putting things in order—seeing to the needs of shrine-goers, spearheading offerings to the lunar goddess, Tsukuyomi, and keeping the monks like Fujimoto in check. It was expected of her to uphold the strident focus of a leader, but she never once showed you that side of her directly.

To you, she was Futaba-obasan, who stood as both your mother and father in one. She brought up a troublesome child like you singlehandedly; cooking your meals, letting you learn of life's basic skills, taking great care of you, overall. And instead of appointing the other monks to do it, she was the one who taught you all about the Shinto beliefs that your shrine lived by.

The love you had for your grandmother was like no other, and you could devote your entire life giving back everything she's done for you, and it still wouldn't be enough.

But why did it seem like she was hiding something from you?

"Fujimoto-san, it's getting very late," she spoke tersely. "I should see you to the gates."

There was probably a protest resting on the elder man's tongue, but he decided to hold it back, letting slip a defeated sigh instead. He gathered his robes as he got up on the tatami, bowing respectfully towards your grandmother. "Thank you for the hospitality, Amatsuki-sama."

"No, thank you for identifying the root of (Name)'s affliction so quickly." Your grandmother smiled kindly, working through worn joints as Fujimoto helped her to her feet. Before sliding the door to your room, she spared you a single glance. "I'll whip you up a nice, hot meal a little later, dear. Rest up and entertain yourself for a bit first."

You nodded, not having planned on getting out of bed in the first place. As she and Fujimoto exited the room, you couldn't paint a reason for why the monk looked so...rattled at the sight of you. What did he mean by, "Could it be?" anyway? Could what be?

With a sigh, you removed the damp cloth on your forehead, hanging it by the mouth of the basin your grandmother left by your futon. The loss of the cool feeling made you aware of how hot your body felt. You must've caught a fever.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you couldn't do much while you were sick, you decided to turn on the TV, spending a significant amount of time sifting through the channels for anything that interested you. An old kids cartoon? Nope. A Thai soap opera you've seen a hundred times? Nope. An infomercial channel that promoted five different offers for the same washing machine? Definitely nope. A news report about an upcoming eclipse?

"Astronomers from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency or JAXA have predicted the onset of a full lunar eclipse this October," the news anchor informed with a fake flair of interest in her tone. "Details about the eclipse will follow in a few weeks once JAXA sees more into the matter. Now for the weather."

Once the report was over, you glanced at the time displayed at the corner of the screen. Tuesday, 7:39 P.M., it said. You really were out for a whole day.

The sound of your door sliding back open startled you out of your disbelief. There, your grandmother carried a tray of what smelled like miso soup and a pitcher of water. She flashed you another one of her kind smiles, kneeling next to your futon before pouring you a glass.

"You said it would be a meal," you sulked, pouting.

"Oh, hush, child. You were unconscious for so long, your stomach won't be able to handle it just yet."

You chuckled at her words, grabbing the bowl to take a first taste of her recovery miso with a soup spoon. She made it taste less salty than what you're used to, probably out of her baseless concern for your stomach. The beefy aftertaste was a nice touch, though, and at least there were some tofu cubes to chew on. Contrary to your prior protests, you managed to finish the whole thing with not a slice of green onion left loitering in the bowl.

"See, you'll survive without wolfing down a bowl gyudon right after you've just woken up," she said as you drank glass after glass of water. "I called both your school and your coach and told both that you wouldn't be able to come today and tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about your absences."

"You did that even if the lunar festival's coming up?" You gaped at her. "Oba-san, I told you that you don't have to do everything yourself. You have a dozen monks to do your bidding."

Your grandmother sighed, patting your hair gently before attacking you with a chop to the head. You yelped in surprise, spilling a bit of water on yourself before rubbing the spot where she'd just hit you.

"Monks are not employees I can just order around," she scolded. "You, of all people, should be familiar with the integrity of their work."

"I know, but—"

"Sleep," she said with the same authority you'd use on teammates who were being out of line. "You'll need to regain your strength. You have a competition in a few weeks."

Your voice died in your throat, any objection you even planned on saying just melting on your tongue. She was right. You hated that she was right.

Once your grandmother gathered the tableware she'd migrated to your room, she felt for your temperature by placing the back of her hand on your neck. The frown on her face was clue enough of your condition.

"You went through all of our Ibuprofen the last time you got sick, and I haven't had time to go to the drugstore, since," she sighed, getting up to go outside. "I'll have someone buy it for you tomorrow, if it makes you feel any better about me 'doing everything myself'."

The grin that teased the corners of your mouth didn't go unnoticed by her. Your grandmother rolled her eyes, killing the lights in your room before you could even put out an off-handed remark. When you no longer heard the sound of her footsteps resounding from the hall, you turned your gaze to the open window outside, the only source of illumination.

Your house was perched on top of a tall hill that overlooked the rest of the bustling city down below. It was quieter here, and the sky was somewhat free of light pollution. A blanket of stars hovered overhead, each one seemingly winking at you from where you sat. The moon was barely a shy crescent tucked away in the darker corners of the sky—you nearly missed it.

"Sorry, Tsukuyomi-sama," you mumbled, chuckling to yourself for apologizing to a goddess. "Didn't see you there."

When you rolled over to your side, you fell asleep in minutes.

***

"You are a false prophet."

I'm not... Believe in me, please.

"How dare you claim to be of the lunar goddess' progeny when you look like that!"

No... Don't—don't kill me. I mean no harm.

"Here and now, I vanquish thee!"

It hurts! It hurts! Please, stop! Please. Please...

"Without a heart, you have no power. Begone, demon, and never return."

#haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #lunaris #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou

35 notes · View notes

officerjennie · 6 years ago

Link

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Kagami, Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Fugaku Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, mostly pre-slash, Rating May Change, No Underage Sex, Not promising regular updates Summary:

Snippets of Shisui's life, often revolving around his favorite, albeit rather withdrawn, cousin.

Click the link or continue below the line to read!

Also, I officially have a Ko-Fi (link in header) :)

October came and went, Shisui’s smile waxing and waning with the moon. Even Halloween had little flare, the chill in the air flushing his cheeks red and cracking the skin of his palms.

After November began too soon, he briefly considered making a fuss - but the dark circles under his mom’s eyes gave him pause, and the ever-growing distant look on his father’s face made up his mind.

Instead, Shisui sat in the floor of his room with a few of his old toys around him, quietly celebrating his late birthday with an imaginary too-sweet cake and hand-me-down presents.

His mother startled him awake the next morning with near desperate shaking of his shoulder. “Shisui, you sleep like the dead!” Shisui sat up, barely aware of his mother’s huffing and grumbling as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Kaa-san, it’s Saturday.” He continued to whine as his mother went about his room. She stopped at the toys in his floor, still placed in a semi-circle from his late-night celebration, and tisked before shoving them all into his toy basket.

“Must you leave your floor a wreck? And no, it’s Sunday - come on, Shisui, you need to get dressed.”

He held back a groan, but only barely, as she searched through his clothes for who-knows-what. As she went on mumbling to herself, he turned his head, eyeing his pillow briefly before shrugging and flopping back down. He threw the top of his futon over his head and once again was graced by the blissful warmth and darkness.

When his mother woke him up again, she was practically hissing in anger. She tossed his clothes down on the bed next to him, demanding he put them on quickly before coming down for breakfast.

“And,” she stopped in the doorway, a hand on the doorknob and her eyes narrowed, “do not. Make me come dress you.” She shut his door hard, the frame shaking slightly and leaving the room quiet.

Shisui pouted, fiddling with his night shirt. It was probably best to do as she said. He wasn’t the smartest kid in his class - his no-better-than-average grades would testify to that - but he could tell she was getting angry, and he hated when his mom was angry with him. So he abandoned the warmth and comfort of his futon, this time not bothering to hold back his groan, wondering where they could be going in such a hurry on a Sunday.

He got dressed quickly and headed out to the living room, sticking his legs under the kotatsu as he settled in - it wouldn’t be turned on for at least another month, but it was still warmer underneath the blanket. While he waited for breakfast, he poked at a small hole in his pants, rolling his eyes around the living room in hopes something would catch his attention.

The living room was small. Everything here was smaller - the bathroom, the kitchen, his room. There wasn’t even a balcony here for his mom’s plants like their last place. He remembered she had looked sad giving most of them away when they moved here.

They’d only been here a few months, and Shisui still didn’t like it. There was no upstairs, their neighbors were too loud, and everything felt too tight and too big all at once. Thinking about it for too long made his head and chest hurt.

His mother brought two plates from the kitchen and sat across the kotatsu from him. Leftover curry and rice. He scrunched up his nose but said nothing, picking up his spoon to at least poke at a carrot or two.

She didn’t let him laze around like usual, rushing them both out of the house and ignoring Shisui’s grumbling protests.

“Kaa-san, are we going to the shrine?” They were already walking down the stairs to the train station when he bothered to ask. Every month or so she would drag him to the local shrine. It hadn’t been something they’d done when he was younger, at least as far as he remembered, but it wasn’t like he minded the trips. He liked walking through the gardens, even if his mom often had to scold him for being too loud.

“No, we’re visiting my sister.” The gate beeped as they went through, his mom sticking their train card back in her wallet as they walked down yet another set of stairs.

Shisui frowned, scuffing his feet on the ground as they stopped to wait for the next train. He remembered he had an aunt. Sort of. She had long hair...and she was pale.. And she was at the doctor’s when- “Oh! The one who had akachan?” He’d only seen his baby cousin once, the one with really small hands and fingers and toes. “I forgot his name.”

“Itachi-chan, yes.” His mother had a faint smile on her face, the train blowing her hair even as it slowed in front of them. It was odd, because her eyes looked really sad. “He’s finally home, so I thought we should visit.”

“He wasn’t home? Where was he?”

“Shisui, he was sick, remember?” She smoothed a hand through his hair, keeping it on the back of his head as they entered the train cart and sat down.

“So he’s all better now?” A hand on his knee kept him from kicking his feet, as did a short and sharp look from his mother.

“No. He’s still sick. But Oba-san was a nurse, so she knows how to care for him.”

Shisui couldn’t recall ever visiting his oba-san and oji-san. Their house was a long walk away from the train station, and was an actual house! No apartment complex, it was a separate building from those around it, with its own garden in the back. The whole neighborhood was in private awe with Shisui as he stood staring. His mother was less impressed, shooing him up the walkway to the front door.

The lady who answered the door was a lot warmer than the last time he saw her. Her hair was no longer dull, her skin not sick and wet - there were a lot of lines around her eyes though, and there was something off about her wide smile that Shisui couldn’t quite put his finger on.

They were quickly ushered into the living room - Sakiko making sure to turn Shisui’s shoes at the entry, scolding him quietly as Mikoto, ever the perfect host, immediately brought out a tray of snacks and turned the electric kettle on. There were some snacks Shisui didn’t recognize, and he couldn’t read the kanji on them either. Mikoto noticed him hesistating and handed him one.

“Ringo Otome. They’re famous in Nagano. Fugaku just went on a business trip there. They go beautifully with green tea.”

It took nearly half an hour for Shisui to remember why they were there. He had eaten several of the ringo things, some ice cream mochi, and had started on his second cup of tea. His mother and aunt had been chatting back and forth. Most of the conversation bored Shisui - talk of his uncle, work, medication, uncle’s smoking habits. The last bit seemed to upset his aunt, her pleasant smile vanishing from her face.

“He tries to hide it, but comes home reeking of smoke, Saki.” Mikoto sat her tea cup down, reaching for one of the neatly folded cloth napkins she had placed out for them. Shisui watched as she refolded it, pressing each crease carefully. “It’s bad enough he’s smoking again, but lying to me?”

Shisui peeked up at her from behind his own cup. She was dabbing at the corners of her eyes. They looked full and unhappy, but she laughed and brushed it all away when Sakiko tried to comfort her.

“It’s just a lying husband. It’s not all that bad.”

Shisui scrunched up his eyebrows. He was always told not to lie, and got in big trouble when he did. Especially when he lied to kaa-san. If it hurt Mikoto oba-san so much, why wasn’t she upset? Or was she upset?

He nibbled on another otome. He didn’t really understand his oba-san, but he liked her well enough. And he decidedly did not like his oji-san already.

“...I know it’s hard on him, Saki, but I’m the one taking care of him. I give him his medication. I see what happened - what is happening - to our little boy. And yet he’s the one who’s sneaking around.” Mikoto’s voice got small again, and she looked exhausted, as if mentioning her son brought all the pain she hid to the surface.

Wait, her son...?

“Ita-chan is home, right?” Shisui forgot instantly why he was brought up, excitement bubbling up and causing him to grin wide. “Where is he?” Even knowing he wasn’t in the room couldn’t stop him from whipping his head back and forth, hoping to catch a glimpse of his little cousin.

Mikoto frowned ever so slightly. “He’s in his room resting at-”

“Where’s his room?” Shisui was up in a heartbeat, ready to make a beeline for his cousin. Sweets and tea were nice, but his legs were itchy, and his thoughts got too loud and fast when he had to sit still for so long. Maybe they could play tag? Or build something? Maybe he had video games?

His thoughts were cut short by his aunt’s stern but gentle voice. “Shisui, Itachi is ill. He can’t play like normal boys. He needs to sleep.”

Shisui whined and pouted at that, much to his mother’s embarrassment and horror, but eventually was scolded into sitting quietly as the two women went back to chatting away. He eyed the two warily, plotting his escape.

It turned out his plotting was unnecessary - though he was sad to scrap the great Bathroom plan (pretend he had to pee and wander the house until he found his cousin). His aunt had recently started a tiered herb garden - “I can’t leave Itachi alone,” she explained, a slight pained expression on her face, “and a normal babysitter just can’t handle him” - and insisted on showing Sakiko. To his delight, Shisui was told to stay inside at the kotatsu. He put on his most innocent face, big eyes and smile, and promised not to move an inch.

Mikoto gushed at how cute Saki’s boy was. Sakiko looked unconvinced, but followed her imouto outside anyway.

He jumped up as soon as the backdoor shut behind them. They had passed some stairs on their way in, and he bolted up them now. He tried a few doors in his search, finding a bathroom, a large bedroom, a drab room with a desk and far too many cabinets, until at last he found the right one.

Itachi’s room was larger than his own, but the space didn’t make it as inviting as it should. The whole room seemed cold. There were no pictures on the wall, no toys scattered about. Shisui suddenly remembered where he first met his aunt, in a cold room that smelled so clean it burned his nose. Everything about this room made him want to leave.

Until a big pair of tired eyes caught his own.

Tiny, pale fists wiped at those big eyes, the small boy yawning as he sat up in his bed. He peeked at Shisui curiously, but didn’t make to get up or greet him.

Shisui didn’t know why he expected Itachi to be his age - he puffed out a cheek, upset at himself. Of course his cousin was younger. Of course he was smaller.

Was he supposed to be that small though?

Now, Shisui wasn’t great at a lot of things. He hated numbers, refused to type at computers, and had nearly sprained his ankle the last time he “played” baseball. But he knew he was great at talking to people. He made friends easily, and people loved being around him.

He was told Itachi wasn’t like normal boys, but Shisui wouldn’t let that stop him. He grinned wide at the boy as he plopped right next to him on the bed, earning an even bigger eyed stare than before.

“Hi. i’m Shisui. We’re cousins, but I don’t have any brothers, so call me Shisui-nii, okay?”

The boy blinked his doe eyes at Shisui in response. Shisui looked around the room again, his smile unwavering. “You don’t have any video games, do you?” Blink. “Well, what do you do for fun?” Blink.

Shisui huffed and threw his hands back at the bed, leaning on them. He frowned up at the ceiling for a minute before looking back over at his cousin. “You have toys, don’t you?”

Itachi cocked his head to one side, staring at Shisui for another minute. He didn’t look sad, or happy, or angry, or even tired anymore. Shisui scrunched up his nose, studying his little cousin as Itachi did the same with him. Eventually, ever so slowly, the younger boy crawled out from underneath his covers and placed his bare feet on the floor, heading for his closet. Shisui noted his night clothes had little black birds on them, and found it utterly adorable.

Itachi came out of the closet with his arms full. He gingerly placed his findings on the bed, then sat himself in-between Shisui and the stack of books.

He nearly groaned as Itachi carefully looked at each book. “Those aren’t toys. Those are booooorrring.”

Itachi seemed to ignore his whining, carefully picking up his books and studying the covers until he found the right one. With his decision made, he handed it to Shisui and looked up at him, big, quiet eyes and long lashes and too-pale skin.

Shisui looked down at his cousin. He had bandaids on his upper arms, pink with kittens on them. His wrists were so small he looked fragile. “What do you want me to do with this?” He finally looked at the book in his lap, and remembered seeing it somewhere before - it was about a turtle and a cat. One for little kids, too.

“Read to me?”

Shisui blinked down at his little cousin. His voice was small, but he didn’t sound nervous. Just quiet. He nodded slowly, though he wasn’t nearly as reluctant as he made himself out to be. “But just one, I’m too big to read this stuff.”

Itachi’s smile wasn’t big like Shisui’s. It was quiet, just like his voice and eyes. But Shisui found it fit his Itachi perfectly, and grinned right back at him before launching into the story.

By the time Sakuko and Mikoto discovered them, Shisui had read through the stack and started over, Itachi curled up tight against his chest with his eyes barely open. He was scolded the whole way home for not listening, but he found, for once, he couldn’t feel sorry for what he did - even if he was grounded and told several times how serious Itachi’s “condition�� was.

He curled up in bed that night and slept peacefully. For once, he didn’t dream about moving or his father’s raised voice, but of ways to make Itachi smile.

#shiita #shisui #itachi #fanfiction #mywriting

7 notes · View notes