#tofu twins

[thatswhatsushesaid]

it came to me in a vision

still thinking about wei wuxian and jiang cheng's matching self-sacrifices for each other forever. this is some actual gift of the magi shit right here

[robin-evry]

IF YUU IS A KITSUNE 🦊🦊

A kitsune is a mythical creature from Japanese folklore, often depicted as a fox with magical abilities. Kitsune are known for their shape-shifting powers, commonly transforming into humans, They are intelligent, cunning, and can live for hundreds or even thousands of years, with their powers and wisdom increasing as they age.

( English is not my first language)

In my head, I imagine Kitsune!yuu would be sorted between savanaclaw or pomifiore as their dorm. It depends on you guys to be honest. During the ceremony the area is filled with mist when they step out of the coffin. Or when grim opens the coffin he immediately jumps back because, kitsune!yuu would have already been awake and stared at grim with a grin

Kitsune!yuu would be a hundred years old, maybe 500 years or older. fried tofu with a bowl of udon would be their favorite food. They could come from a clan of kitsune or they grew up all alone in the forest. Since most kitsune are able to shape shift, kitsune!yuu are able to change their appearance to their liking or which form they will find comfortable.

During when grim was about to be kicked out of the school grounds, kitsune!yuu would vouch for him asking headmaster Crowley if they can keep him ( by hypnotizing him ) using their amazing negotiation skills the head master agrees

I imagine kitsune!yuu would disguise themselves as a normal beast man, to hide their true identity, only people who have a strong tuition to tell something is unusual with yuu and their true identity being a normal beast man.

Kitsune!yuu tend to play harmless pranks around the school, even tho many students have been of the victims of these harmless, kitsune!yuu will always manage to find a way to get away with these pranks.

Their ability to use illusionary magic is just one of their magical abilities, For example they are able to create clones of themselves to attend classes while they chill and sleep in the garden. This part will immediately make Leona be suspicious of them because how can they be sleeping in the garden when ruggie said that he saw them walking between periods in the hallway with the Adeuce and grim at the same time. Something is definitely not right with them.

They even know when rook is stalking them, they even look at his direction and wave at him with a grin. Caught him off guard. It seems like they are able to sense or smell his location even if it's a mile away.

What's more weird, when kitsune!yuu is in a reflective surface example when they were ordering a drink at monstro lounge, Their reflection on the aquarium was different, instead of one tail, they had multiple tails by jade who manage to take a glimpse of the reflection and when he looks at yuu, they were smiling and waving at him, and then they leave with their drink in hand.

Kitsune!yuu is also recognized to be very beautiful to the point it can suppress and rival vil beauty, they also tend to release a pheromone or a scent that can make people relax ( making them to be more easier to hypnotize ).

And during the night, they sometimes can be seen with malleus, having a nice stroll together enjoying the night sky and talking about gargoyles.

Grim originally was afraid of kitsune!yuu believed they would eat him one day, but both he started to warm up upon them.

During the Octavinelle chapter, every time Azul makes a contract with them it will always end the same, they will always manage to outsmart him. He even asks the twins to follow them, but every time they will always discover the twins without much effort.

[sea-lanterns]

Empress is gonna have so many kids. Especially since Ei and Miko’s genes would allow for multiple children in a single pregnancy

Ei is a twin so it is most likely if she were to get the empress pregnant, it would be twins, while Miko’s fox nature would allow her to create 4-5 offspring in a single pregnancy but for the sake of the empress’ pussy we’ll go for the triplet route

It would be cute to imagine how exactly the empress guesses who’s the sire by just the little habits she’s developed. Like she starts to crave hella amount of sweets for Ei’s kids: “ya this is Ei’s. I hope I don’t get cavities from the amount of dessert I’ve consumed”. Sometimes the babies are a surprise, like the empress doesn’t know who the sire is and the habits don’t give her much so she and the courtesans have to wait to find out. She then proceeds to pop out three babies with cute little fox ears and tails: “… huh. I guess that explains my nesting habit.”

AWWWWW 🥺

Although this is really funny, it’s kinda cute to see the Empress being able to guess whose baby is who’s, all based on the little habits/cravings she gets during a pregnancy. Like, Ei’s child would probably make the Empress crave sweets like none other, and Miko’s child(ren) will make the Empress crave fried tofu and other bean-related snacks.

Not just cravings though, the Empress might pick up some cute little habits from the baby’s mother. For example, since Ei likes to isolate herself at times, the Empress would pick up on that habit with her baby, and crave more alone time with just one or none courtesans by her side. With Miko, since she is a kitsune, I can imagine the Empress picking up on the instinct to make “nests” for her child(ren), and getting protective over her pregnant belly.

This is too cute, I can’t. 😭😭

[alexihollis]

The Nomination

*based on a thing @asthedeathoflight posted*

"The- the girl who works at the Wonderwheel?" Cleon blinked.

"Mhm."

"The one that carries around that giant sketchbook? And tried to feed a pigeon tofu?" Cleon's voice became more and more incredulous as she spoke.

"Ye- How do you know about that?" Ajax asked.

Cleon just shrugged.

"We need a tagger," Ajax soldiered on - she had thought this through, had a game plan. "She's little. I bet she'd have no problem getting to rooftops and scaling billboards."

"And if we were running low on scouts, I'd be all ears, but we aren't. How well do you think that girl would hold up in a fight?" Cleon asked.

"Are you really gonna say you thought Swan was going to be a good fighter when you snagged her?" Ajax asked. "She looked like a drowned rat when you brought her home!"

"Fuck you, too, Ajax!" Came from the kitchen. Ajax winced. She hadn't realized Swan was home. Whoops.

"She's gonna kick your ass for that," Cleon said.

"Let her try." Swan and her were pretty 50/50 when it came to fights.

Cleon shook her head, bemused. "Has she even said anything about wanting to be in a gang?"

No. No, she had not, but she had told Ajax other things. Like the dad who keeps stealing whatever little money she squirrels away. The creepy men who lurk around the dark corners in their apartment building. Loneliness, because she'd had to drop out of school at fifteen and hadn't been able to make a true friend since losing all the ones she had once had there.

That, in part, might be because she is incredibly jumpy and cagy, but Ajax didn't want to bring that up. The one time Ajax brought up something she didn't seem to want to talk about (namely the dark, suspiciously hand-shaped twin bruises on her biceps), she avoided Ajax for a solid week and still hasn't worn clothes more revealing than a long sleeved shirt and jeans.

Regardless, Ajax knew she would love the Warriors and the Warriors would love her - if Cleon gave her a chance.

"Ajax just wants her new girlfriend to move into our apartment," Cowgirl said, voice coming suddenly from behind Ajax.

For fuck's sake, was everyone at Cleon and Swan's today?

"Shut up, Cowgirl," Ajax hissed as the other girl plopped herself onto the couch, legs dangling as she pulled out a rolled up magazine from her back pocket.

Cleon's eyebrows shot up, "Oh."

"Cleon-"

"Hey, if you say she's cool, she's cool," Cleon said. "Do you plan to move her in? Cause I'm not sure how cool she's going to be rooming with you and Cowgirl."

"I'm moving in with Cochise, we already talked about it." Cowgirl lazily flipped through her magazine. Ajax could kiss her.

"She needs to move in," Ajax said. And something she had been trying not to reveal must have sunk into her voice, because Cleon's face turned much more serious.

"Why the hell didn't you say that first?" Cleon asked.

"Because Wonderwheel girl would dump her in two seconds if she thought Ajax was pitying her," Cowgirl piped up once again, helpful as ever, not at all concerned about the murder plot building in Ajax's head once again. At Cleon's confused look, "She's been talking to herself psyching herself up to come talk to you. It's been concerning."

"I do not talk to myself!"

"Sometimes you do."

"Oh-!"

"Enough," Cleon cut off the building argument. Then, to Ajax, "All right. Is she at the Wonderwheel right now?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go. We'll swing by together to get her stuff."

-----

"So she really is just- in the gang now?" Ajax asked as she looked at the surprising figure lounging on Cleon and Swan's couch.

Ajax had only been stuck behind bars for a week, but Mercy looked like she had lived there a lifetime.

Rembrandt rolled her eyes, checking her shoulder as they made their way into the small kitchen. "Leave it. I thought you were starting to like her."

"I respected her ability to hold her own in a fight against the Furies," Ajax corrected. "Has she even gone through initiation?"

Rembrandt raised her eyebrows. "That night wasn't initiation enough?"

"It isn't initiation!" Ajax protested, struggling to keep her voice low. "What, she's Swan's new girlfriend so she gets special treatment?"

"I do not believe that is what you said when Swan asked if I was going to go through initiation."

"That's different!"

"No, babe, you're just a bit of a hypocrite."

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 12

Hello! I managed to get this finished before bed. So tada!

Steve and Eddie aren’t on the same page yet, and Eddie fucks up.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11

***

As he drove Robin and Erica back to her apartment, (Robin refused to be in the same room as them because of how absolutely gooey they were around each other) Steve’s anticipation for tonight was ramping up. He had stopped by the store to get all the ingredients for tonight.

He pulled out his best wok and washed the rice, getting it started cooking before he did anything else. He cleaned and chopped the vegetables, getting them in the wok first. Once they were about half way done, he pulled them out and set them to the side.

He then cut up the chicken and started cooking it up. Then he made the sauce in the wok with the chicken pushed to the one side and then he mixed them together. He added the vegetables last, warming them through so that they had a crisp but not hard bite to them. He was tossing the mixture in the sesame seeds when the doorbell rang.

He dashed over to the door and opened it.

Eddie stood on the other side, hands shoved into his pockets and big smile on his face. “Hey-ya, Stevie!”

Steve blushed. “Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way. “You’re right on time. I just finished making dinner.”

Eddie slipped past Steve and into the apartment. “Smells great. I can’t wait. I’ve been telling the guys about it all weekend. They are insanely jealous by the way.”

Steve smiled. “What? Can none of them cook?” He led Eddie over to the table where he started to plate up the chicken.

Eddie grinned. “Sadly, their talents lie in music and not cooking.” He sat down. “Gethin, Gareth’s twin can bake, but that’s really not the same thing as cooking.”

Steve chuckled. “No. Cooking once you know the basic rules can be tweaked in all sorts of ways. Don’t eat pork, dark meat of fowl like chicken or turkey will work. Or tofu if you’re vegetarian or vegan. Baking though? Gluten intolerant? Fuck you then, because you have to replace more than just the one ingredient you have to find three things to replace it so it acts the same way.”

Eddie nodded. “I call baking alchemy and cooking art.”

Steve smiled. “That sounds about right. Chopsticks or forks?”

“Chopsticks if you have ‘em,” Eddie said.

Steve went to the drawer and pulled out four black chopsticks with a silver band on top. He handed two to Eddie and kept two for himself.

“These are nice,” Eddie said, immediately digging into his food. “Wow. Shit, dude. So good.”

Steve blushed and took a bite of his food. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to cook so good?” Eddie asked around a bit of food.

Steve flushed. “It was either learn how to cook or eat take out every night when my parents were gone.”

Eddie looked up through his lashes. “Yeah, how often were they gone?”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I think a better question would be when weren’t they gone?”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Steve set down his chopsticks and sighed. “Look, you went to high school with me, you know I was famous for the ragers I threw. Do you know why I could throw those parties?”

Eddie half shrugged. “I never really thought about it. I was never on the guest list.”

Steve snorted. “Like I had any control of the guest list. That was all Tommy and Carol. Seriously. After my second concussion in two years that had me benched in every sport I was in except swimming, I realized they didn’t care about me. They only cared that I had absent parents, a cleaner that came every other day, and a huge house with swimming pool in the back.”

Eddie winced. “Is that why the parties stopped that last part of your senior year?”

Steve nodded. “So yeah, I learned how to cook to prevent myself from getting into bad eating habits and I just kept it up. I enjoy it. Not like tattooing but it’s fun.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmured. “I sometimes forget that high school was almost a decade ago. You look so much like you did back then that I forget that all that shit is just water under the bridge. But I’m trying.”

Steve smiled softly. “And I appreciate it. I really do. Actually, one of my apprentices actually went to high school with us, too.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, would I know them?”

“Would you know head cheerleader,” Steve said with a smirk, “and then girlfriend of the captain of the basketball team you final senior year?”

Eddie leaned his head forward. “Chrissy? Chrissy Cunningham? Are you shitting me right now?”

Steve shook his head.

“Hell yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Of course I remember her. Great girl. Glad she broke it off with that Carver kid though. He was one of those Christians that forgot the main principle the dude taught was to love everyone.”

Steve nodded. “I hear he’s one of those wackos that go around to public streets and harass poor people about religion for YouTube views.”

“Fuck, really?” Eddie hissed. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. Lucky dodge for Chrissy then. You thinking of snapping up that girl?”

Steve felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped right over his head. He thought that this was a date. He had done it again. Presumed too much.

“No,” he said softly. “Robin has a better chance with her then I do. Apparently she is a lesbian.”

Eddie furrowed his brow a little, wondering about the sudden mood switch.

“Good for her,” is all he said.

The night got awkward and stayed that way until Eddie got up to go home.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked trying to at least salvage some part of the evening.

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you’re starting on the sword tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, heart in his throat.

Steve confusion clears. “Of course! I can’t wait. I’m really excited to start working on it.” He gives Eddie’s wrist a squeeze. “I thought we made plans that I had forgotten about. No. Of course I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eddie relaxed a little bit and nodded.

Steve closed the door gently behind him.

*

Jeff was brushing his teeth to get ready for bed when there was a pounding on his door. He looked over at Mandy and frowned.

“You expecting anyone, babe?” she asked, after spitting into the sink.

Jeff shook his head. He rinsed out his mouth and padded to the door. He opened it to reveal a jumpy Eddie.

Jeff rolled his head from side to side. “You do know Mandy’s got work in the morning, right?”

Eddie nodded. “I fucked up with Stevie and I don’t know what I did but I really need my best friend right now.”

“Come on in,” Mandy said from behind Jeff. “I’ll get you two a beer.”

Eddie sat on their ratty sofa, his knee jiggling with restless energy. Mandy handed them the beers and kissed Jeff’s cheek.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

Jeff watched as she walked back to their bedroom. Once the door was closed he turned to Eddie. “Right start at the top. What do you mean you fucked things up with Steve?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eddie said after downing half of the bottle in one go. “Things were going great, dinner was amazing. It got a little awkward when he said he learned how to cook because his parents were never home and then bam! The bottom opened up and I left earlier then I expected because the air was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife.”

Jeff closed his eyes and then opened them again. “Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Knowing you like I do, you probably said something you didn’t think was important, but really, really was.”

Eddie sighed and went through the whole conversation.

Jeff buried his head in his hands and groaned. “Dude, tell me you really didn’t ask Steve if he was going bang one of his apprentices, you know one of the people that work for him?”

Eddie scoffed, waving his hand. “I was joking.”

“Did Steve know that?” Jeff prodded.

Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it. He opened it again, but no sound would come out. He snapped it shut and frowned. “Maybe not?”

Jeff waved his hand at him. “Also seriously, dude. What kind of messed up fucker asks his crush if he wants to bang some chick?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Oh shit.”

“Look I don’t know this guy,” Jeff said. “Not well enough anyway. If this was Gareth or Brian, I could tell exactly what he was thinking. But I don’t and you don’t either. Which means you didn’t just fuck up, Eddie. You fucked up bad. So you’re going to have to grovel. And I do mean grovel. Flowers, dinner, the works.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said breathing out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah, man. Fuck. What if I messed things up with for good?”

Jeff shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess endure the most awkward thirty hours of your life?”

“Shit.”

*

The first thing Eddie did that morning was call the shop.

“Royal Pain, this is Robin, how can I help you today?”

“Birdie,” Eddie greeted. “Is Steve around?”

Robin sighed heavily. “He’s working with Chrissy at the moment, I can take a message?”

Eddie sighed. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s actually you I wanted to speak to anyway.”

“Is this about last night?” she asked.

Eddie blinked away the tears that formed at the thought that Steve had told her about it. “I’m trying to grovel and need a list of his faves so that I make it up to him for being an absolute ass.”

Eddie could feel Robin’s grin through the phone. “Right. Where do you want me to start?”

They talked for a good twenty minutes before she said, “Look, I’ve got another call coming in. That should be enough to start with. Hop to it, doofus. I want to see it, capeesh?”

“I read you loud and clear,” Eddie said.

“Good.”

***

Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

[reveluving]

hold me closely ; rick flag x reader

summary: 'cool, calm & collected' is how many describe the Flags, and they're right. to a certain degree, at least. (a.k.a some of your & Rick's favourite convos in the family group chat)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff & humour (ft twin sons Ethan & Richie, daughter Irene & Tofu the cat!)

a/n: made sumn for my rick babes (+ s/o to my girl @lacontroller1991​ for the cutest hubby rick ask??? ily) so enjoyed imagining what it’s like to be his wifey and mother of kids eeee <33 love y’all!! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

disclaimer!! despite the face claims (joy from rv btw) & running theme here, you are highly encouraged to imagine yourself or your oc as the MC however you see fit!

» wanna read more rick flag fics or anyone by joel kinnaman? check out my j.k. m.list!

↳ january 19th ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : how's Tofu, kids?

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : pretty gud mom

me 🌸 : ??? the last photo??

my beloved ❤️ : @.mister e what did we tell you about putting Tofu on your head

mister e : i told richie it was a bad idea but he didn’t listen 😔

richie : ??? u literally suggested the idea??? 🤨

↳ march 21st ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : have u guys seen the package i brought in this morning? i ordered a pillow for your sister

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

richie : dw we gave it to her already

mister e : Tofu also conquered the box just so you guys know

↳ june 5th ༉‧₊˚✧

my beloved ❤️ : store’s got vanilla ice cream but it’s not the one you asked for. is it still okay @.me 🌸?

me 🌸 : more than okay! tq ❤❤

mister e : nvm we bought like, 9 different kinds

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

me 🌸 : ? how???

richie : dad drove us to four different stores lol

my beloved ❤️ : i still don't think it's enough

↳ july 4th ༉‧₊˚✧

richie: [ sent 3 photos ]

[ my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

[ mister e reacted with a ‘ 🎉 ’ ]

[ you reacted with a ‘ 🥰 ’ ]

↳ july 22nd ༉‧₊˚✧

richie : what do you guys call a fake noodle?

me 🌸 : what?

richie : an impasta

[ my beloved ❤️ has removed richie from the group ]

me 🌸 : RICK

my beloved ❤️ : it’s a little funny, i admit

mister e : heh

my beloved ❤️ : you wanna join your brother, too?

mister e : no sir 🚶

↳ august 6th ༉‧₊˚✧

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : richie, irene and i @ the aquarium + ice-cream and bookstore after

[ you and my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

richie : hope the dinner’s going well!

me 🌸 : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : it's going amazing. thank you boys 😌

» juuust in case you're still confused: 'my beloved ❤' is Rick, 'mr e' is Ethan & 'richie' is, well, Richie!

» ❛ fun lil’ trivia about the flags ༉‧₊˚

Irene and the twins have an eight-year age gap!

Richie’s full name is Richard Flag the Third.

Although identical, Richie has certain mannerisms that resemble his father. The same case applies to Ethan, the younger twin, who picks up more of your quirks. Despite that, Richie, usually the photographer of the group, encourages (and even adds to) Ethan’s odd photo ideas.

Sporty ahh kids. All three of them. Need I say more?

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[void-dreaming]

Concept art of another Cookie OC, this time it's Peppered Tofu Cookie!

Her original description was different from the design, which I made very similar to Flat Tofu Cookie without realizing it, so I decided to make her his older twin sister!

Here's the first go at her design, I like the fit, but I'll have to play around with the design a bit more so I can get the Peppered aspect in!

Some info about Peppered Tofu:

Peppered is the older twin, and she's very protective of her little brother. In their childhood, Peppered had a reputation for fighting with anything and everything that spooked her brother!

Peppered is a warrior, she takes her role seriously and patrols the area every night.

She buries herself in her nightly training, not acknowledging her feelings about being alive once more.

Despite her joyfullness and daytime demeanor, Peppered is very closed off emotionally

Peppered and Flat Tofu are still very close, although neither know how to talk about the situation. They feed off of each other's nervousness.

She would never allow herself to be seen as vulnerable and uncertain, she's rather the Tribe see her as fearless and reliable.

Sometimes, Peppered can be found scanning the skies, almost lost in thought.

[cinnamonnala]

LoveLetter Kore 💙

After ages I bring another LoveLetter character to the table! Which also means they’re now available for questions 💙✨

Kore used to be Moon, shock of all shock, and they’re very very different now as y’all can see

Kore is in charge of helping people through romantic relationships, both getting into them and working through already being in one

They’ve learned all the ways of human flirting and has accidentally swooned people before, but it’s just to help humans flirt with other humans

Similarly to the others Kore can only be seen should they allow it, and they tend to perch on windows to listen to late night woes of the people they’re helping

Kore’s stamp similar to Callisto and Solei is on every letter they send

Kore is a deer, a very gray deer but a deer all the same 

Kore is very extra about their fashion, though they’re much more consistent  than Callisto. They tend to prefer long flowing clothes and would rather be caught dead than without their hat

Kore has the Diamond suit as their motif

Kore is of Norwegian Descent and speaks Norwegian as their primary language outside of their species specific language which all the others speak as well. While they might be speaking Norwegian, if someone’s first language is English, they’d hear them as if they were speaking perfect English, and this is the same for any and all other languages

Loves walks in the gardens and is an expert in all things floral

Kore doesn’t understand the word casual, except when sleeping, though they don’t do it to be haughty

Kore is a good chef and tends to do most of the cooking when the others want to try a food they saw someone else eat while working

An avid tea drinker, almost always has a cup when they’re not busy, has more than once cried over an incredible blend being lost to history

Frequently plays the violin, which Callisto really enjoys and likes to tell the other kids about

Tallest: 6 foot 8

Non-binary

Very fluid in gender expression tending to lean slightly fem

Kore doesn’t really like beef, they won’t not eat it entirely but they gravitate towards fish or chicken for a meat instead

Kore also likes tofu and likes to experiment with it in meals

Kore tends to act as the calm big sibling of the group, helping Callisto when Solei is busy since he tends to be the busiest out of the group, besides maybe the twins

They have a small collection of tea sets, only having a particular few they’ve felt connected to enough to keep

They have a tendency to sit with one leg crossed over the other, simply because

[nardo-headcanons]

Hey, I loved your Naruto headcanon posts, which makes me crave for more. Any thoughts on Uzushio in future?

Hi darling, I'm so glad you enjoy my headcanons! It's kind words like these that motivate me to do more! So, Uzushiogakure. A tricky one, since there's basically nothing we know in canon, but I've tried to make it work. Also I'm in bed with the flu and a fever rn so please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Uzushiogakure Worldbuilding Headcanon

People and Culture

Since most if not all Uzushio citizens are Uzumakis, its residents are typically known for their temperament and fiery personalities. Their enthusiasm is almost infectious and they're very loyal and will stick by your side no matter what. Although its last leader was a man, its typically run by women. Women are treated with the same respect as men are, and tought the same sealing techniques. Twin birth rates are high and there have been cases of even triplets or quadruplets. The Uzumaki are sharers, they love to share their food, their ninja equipment, and also their knowledge. Seriously, they're great teachers. Their standards for teaching are high, but they 100% stand behind their students. The longevity of the Uzumaki comes with a downside, though. Due to the faster mitosis of their cells, the overall cancer rate is the highest in the shinobi world. Most of the Uzushio citizens weren't actually full fledged shinobi, and they were a peaceful nation. The Uzumaki also used their sealing techniques on food to enhance its shelf life.

Clothing and Cosmetics

The traditional attire of an Uzumaki consists of various kinds of hanfu and other gowns. However, compared to their real world counterpart, the Uzushio garments aren't gendered. When it comes to hair- and skincare, Uzushio citizens gladly use cosmetic products imported from the water realm, but when it comes to acne prevention, they use a special blend of clay to apply topically, although peroral application is also possible. According to Uzumaki aunties, it is a miracle cure for almost anything.

Nature

Flora The climate of Uzushiogakure is mild, characerized by hot, humid summers and cold, snowy winters and colorful falls. Most of the interior countryside is covered in bamboo forests. Bamboo was a sacred plant to the Uzumaki, as they saw it as a symbol of growth and regeneration. Another plant often seen in Uzushiogakure is the ginko tree. During the fall, its leaves are often ejoyed as a tea by the citizens. The coastlines are characterized by rocky beaches. Swimming in the sea however, is not a good idea, as there are whirlpools lurking close to the shore. Since the country is sprinkled by rivers, many citizens commute by boat.

Fauna

In the whirlpool realm, there are a lot of different animals. An animal unique to Uzushiogakure is the big and the red panda. Big pandas are seen as a symbol of good luck by the Uzumaki, while red pandas are seen a symbol of laughter and mischief. In the forests of the whirpool realm you can find foxes, wolves and wild tigers. Another mischievious friend of the Uzumaki is the red squirrel, and they're so beloved by them, it's not a rarity to see squirrels chilling on rooftops or even take the boat together with the Uzumaki.

Food

The national dish of Uzushiogakure is mapo tofu. Enjoyed with rice imported from Kirigakure, it is enjoyed by adults, elders and children. Generally, the Uzumaki have the second highest spice tolerance, coming after Sunagakure. Uzushiogakure is also a paradise when it comes to all things sauces and condiments. The most popular ones are keptjap manis, peri peri, hoisin and miso glaze. Street- and fast food was a big part of Uzumaki culture, as there many food stalls sprinkled throughout the village. Before it was destroyed, Kirigakure Kimchi was a very sought after imported food product.

[lacedupforyou]

Yandere! Xiao Headcanons

(For this write lets say reader is traveler!)

At first he had no interest in some traveler. But seeing you around Liyue, Fighting, Helping, Doing mortals requests with that same smile.

He began following them keeping his distance, He enjoyed watching their golden strands of hair fly through Liyue's winds. It was hypnotizing to him..

During the fight with Osial, He sees you there fighting up close. As he fights fatui he keeps his eyes on YOU. Watching you run and fight like a true hero. You reminded him of the late Yaksha's.

He sees the platform begin to crack and he reaches out to grab you and bring you to safety. The moment of holding you was something he had not felt in his long years of life.

As you slipped through his hands he came back to his sense. He kept his eyes on you, watching you end the battle and shatter the jade chamber.

After that he decided to join your party and your adventures. Traveling teyvat with you. Now he could enjoy your golden whisps of hair fly everywhere. But Up close. So close.

Everytime you fought with him he would keep you as safe as possible, blocking heavy hits and protecting you without another thought in his mind.

You sit at Wangshu Inn with him and watch the lanterns at your first lantern rite together. Yous it close and enjoy his favorite dish you learned known as "Almond Tofu". The moment forever in his mind. Sitting close and watching the sky glow. But he couldn't stop watching your face light up with joy, He seemed to be staring not at the lights but at you. Your expressions leaving him in a trance he never seemed to escape.

In those vulnerable moments of you missing your twin he would try his best to comfort you..Though he does not quite understand how to do so he understands what it's like to loose someone close.

"I promise to help you find them, We will find them together and you will smile. But do not forget me once you find them.. I don't know what I will do.."

He knows you're a fragile mortal so he will keep his eyes out for everyone. You and Childe? He will glare the WHOLE TIME. When traveling to inazuma and seeing you with Thoma, Ayato, Itto, Gorou. Makes him jealous AS HELL! He will glare or scoff at them and walk off with you.

He will grow touchy but not TOO TOUCHY he might hold your hand in touch times, carry you places when you're tired, Holding you whole you are asleep.

Traveling teyvat and fighting with you keeps him going, Growing closer and closer, He feels he wants more every second he is with you. But he is always with you, How much will he desire in the end?

"Tch. Why do you need them, Those mortals have nothing to offer, You're much more capable. Let's set up camp here for the night..Goodnight, Sleep well." That night. He will make his move.

[betterleona]

Azul x Bakugou

Angst, Use of the f-slur

Bakugou had decided to take his boyfriend on a date. Of course he went to the most popular restaurant in town, his little firecracker deserved nothing but the best.

He also just wanted brownie points but ehh who could prove it?

Also when he says the best he means the best, his boyfriend’s restaurant is fine or whatever but those damn twins piss him off! Always minding their business, all he wanted was a bit of privacy for tonight.

“What does someone have to do to get some God damn service here!?” He yelled after being sat here for 40 or so minutes.

“Hon! Calm down, the place is packed tonight. Plus must you always yell? Ruining my image.”

“The hell was that!!?”

Just as Azul opened his mouth to respond the waitress came up to their table, avoiding a real argument.

She had a bright smile on her face. “Hey y’all! Anything I can get started for you today?” She stared straight at Bakugou waiting for his response.

“Uhh I’ll have the mapo tofu.” He said after thinking for a moment.

“Right away sir!” She prepared to scurry off back into the kitchen.

Azul cleared his throat loudly and almost passive aggressively. “Ma’am? Aren’t you going to ask what I want? Or at the very least wait for my response?”

She looked him up and down. “Well I just assumed you had finished your food already? Or had a couple plates.” She pretended to be completely oblivious to her words before running back off to the kitchen.

Azul stared at Bakugou after she left. “Well, Katsuki?”

He looked back in pure confusion “Well what?” He scowled back at his boyfriend.

“Well I just thought maybe you’d care a little more that she was so rude to your boyfriend. She basically called me fat to my face?”

“Well maybe that’s cus you ARE pretty fat baby blue.”

“What-!? EXCUSE me!? Katsuki you’re agreeing with her? Is this some messed up joke?”

“I’m just saying maybe if you stopped eating enough for you and three kids.” He was speaking about it casually as he looked around the restaurant.

Azul then began to sob harder than he ever had before, having a meltdown right in the middle of the restaurant almost hyperventilating. “Well- well then obviously you don’t take me or my feelings seriously!”

“Hell no I don’t! Stop being so sensitive all the time and maybe I would know when there’s an actual problem fatass!”

“Well then maybe we shouldn’t be together in the first place!”

“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear, I’m sick of walking up to you smooshed face in front of me!”

Azul looked the most hurt he ever had before running off into the cold night.

Never knowing about the wedding ring in Bakugous pocket, never knowing tonight might’ve been the night to promise them a beautiful future together.

[artbyfuji]

Do you have any fav food headcanons for STRQ?

summer: everyone get on my spinach & cheese omelette agenda 🤩 anyway she also loves arroz con pollo. it was one of the first meals she taught yang how to make.

the twins: raven's is braised rabbit & qrow's is venison stew... they probably only get to eat it once or twice a year. (branwen twins "don't make it obvious we grew up in the woods" challenge: failed.) a plate of steak & potatoes would also make them happy. butttt their favorite childhood meal was oyakodon 👍 i can imagine qrow making it for ruby & yang sometimes when they were young.

tai: mapo tofu (with extra chili flakes) he seems like the type to have a pantry shelf just for a hot sauce collection. second place is his shrimp fried rice. yang is allergic to shellfish. this was a crushing blow to him.

[dappersheep]

Some doodles about a few things that happened at last weekend's event.

Not drawn here was a couple of people who pass by and recognized FooFan but stopped playing a long time ago, but still bought a couple of stickies for nostalgia and talking about their old favorites (lots of people apparently were very into the Tofu twins)

[deuterium51614]

Boueibu Rewatch Part 5

Onto the second season! (Watched and typed this up on Tuesday, scheduled for Thursday!)

Episode One

The amount of times I audibly squealed at Kinshirou and En in this episode lol

Interesting that En's the one that didn't want to tell the council about the new monster. Normally you'd think it would be Atsushi.

Something to note... when Wombat appears, he's in fetal position then kinda jumps to attention. You know what is similar to this? His spawning in the movie trailer. So I'm really thinking that S1!Wombat and S2!Wombat are two separate entities out of the same hivemind... Like maybe the LoveMind was in a rush, and sent out an beta version of him in the first season to counteract CIDER, but for the second season (since everyone's appearances change to be more "youthful and fresh") he was able to upgrade?

OH! Something I noticed! Way back when, I took a screenshot of the airport exterior and posted it, because they misspelled "terminal" as "tarminal." But now, the version on Crunchyroll is spelled correctly. And I still have my offline versions, with and without Crunchyroll's subs, that has the error. So did they somehow change to the Bluray version? But they still don't have the pink and blue bars...

So I know green is Ibushi's color (aside from silver) but all I could think of was Ibuatsu. And then Kinshirou was wearing blue (En's color). Meanwhile, Akoya had his yellow and pink tie. (Could be Io and Ryuu, or it's a stretch but one of the twins since the VEPPer outfits have those colors... cough Akihiko cough)

Anyway, still think instead of having the twins talk to Tawarayama (which now that I think about it... is that actually supposed to be a flashback? Since they were on school grounds during the battle, but this shows them returning) they should've kidnapped Goura in that scene. Just outright eliminating the question of "are they after Goura?" and giving the Battle Lovers more motivation to fight during the season.

Episode Two

The Press Society were severely underutilized this season. Like I get their role was just to help the twins get popular when they started school, but they could've been shown more in the background here and there with the Apes...

Tofu Monster didn't really get a quality speech now that I think about it... Yumoto really just went "you're bottom of the barrel tofu" and left it at that. Like that's what the Tofu Monster had been hearing from all his classmates already, that he was lying about being special. Maybe he could've said "you don't have to try and pretend to be special in ways you're not--tofu has its own special qualities without needing to go the extra mile to impress someone!"

Also, now that I'm realizing it... The general consensus is we refer to the monsters as Loveless, right? But aside from Wombat's line in S1E1 about "loveless thinking loveless thoughts and taking loveless actions," I don't think it's used as a collective word for the monsters in the show itself?? What the Mandela Effect is going on? (Correct me if I'm wrong lol)

Episode Three

I'm still a bit peeved at Goura for telling Yumoto not to fight back against kids that were beating him up... Like, it's good to teach him not to start fights, but also that it's okay to end them!

Anyway, I love the Mic Monster's random English sprinkled into his lines lol

Io being banned from mentioning the toothbrush incident...

And then he bought all that equipment for the production lol

Anyway, happy Turkey Day to those who celebrate, and happy Day-After-Pretty Boy Day to those who don't!

[messrsrarchives]

twin!! my asks are been so fucked but i hope you’re not doing too bad and i hope you do super good really soon !! (saw ur tiktok fucking valid, good on you mate)

anyways! ops on frozen vs fresh fruit!!??

🫂🫂

oh my GOD hello!!! it has been so long 😖 i've missed you !!

i'm doing fab today, just cooked the best tofu i've ever had in my life and i'm mourning it already. also, frozen >>> fresh. i feel like it's so much less sour ykkkk? ygm

i've missed you !! i hope you're doing well <3

[suguwu]

lover be good to me: part four

You meet Kita Shinsuke on a rainy summer day, with a sea of hydrangeas swirling at your feet. You know him instantly, as only a soulmate can. He seems like a good man. Like a good soulmate.

But it’s your wedding day.

masterlist

minors and ageless blogs do not interact

pairings: kita shinsuke x f!reader, oc x f!reader

notes: we are finally at the end. thank you so much for coming along on this ride with me. this fic truly is dear to me and i can't believe it's finally done.

as always, massive thanks to my beta for both the edits and the endless support throughout the process, especially when i thought writing this fic would never end.

title and part title are from hozier’s “be”

tags for this part (contains spoilers for fic): soulmate au (first words), this is a very reader-centric story, slow burn, pining, hurt/comfort, reader and kita are implied to be around their 30s, food consumption, non-graphic partner death (not kita), grief/mourning, healing, love as a choice.

wc: 12k

You settle into the farmhouse. 

It’s easier than you thought. Maybe it’s the way Yoshida is brusque but kind; she’s not careful with you. It’s a refreshing change of pace. 

You find yourself at her side most nights, chopping vegetables or marinating tofu as she tells you about growing up in the country. She spins stories like thread, weaving them together like the expert seamstress she is. Her son joins in some nights too.

You still get lost sometimes, though.

The early mornings are the worst. 

The birds sing you to wakefulness, their song high and trilling, and you press your face into the pillow with a groan. “Loud. Shut the window, Aoshi,” you mumble, shoving out at him. Your hand hits empty space and your brow scrunches. You push to your elbows and find a room that’s not your own, though you blearily recognize the suitcase tucked into the closet. 

You shift on the bed and realize it’s too small. A twin.

It all comes pouring back in. 

“Fuck,” you say, low and quiet. The tears pool in your eyes, burning hot, and you try to blink them back to no avail. You curl in on yourself like a fiddlehead as you lie back down. 

You do not move for a very long time.

The world has gone blue when there’s a knock on your door, twilight settling in like the ocean tide, easing its way across the sky. You don’t answer. Another knock comes and then there’s Kita’s voice murmuring your name.

You almost ignore him. But there’s something in his voice you can’t resist, a melancholy thread woven in through the syllables of your name. You get to your feet and open the door.

Kita studies you for a moment. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You blink. “Go where?”

“My place. I’m cookin’.” 

“Shinsuke—”

“I know.”

You bite at your lower lip. Kita meets your gaze steadily, his amber eyes darkened to a deep, sweet brown by the dim lighting. There’s a promise in them too. 

“Okay,” you say at last. “Let me get dressed.”

He waits downstairs as you throw on some clothes. You can hear him talking quietly to Yoshida. He gives you a little smile when you join him at the genkan. 

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

It’s true autumn now and the slight chill in the air proves it. The rice stalks are spun gold, swaying in the wind as the truck trundles down the road to Kita’s farm. You watch a stork wade carefully through the fields. It dips down with its long, elegant neck and disappears from sight. 

The radio is playing quietly. Kita hums along with it sometimes, mostly at the old, crooning ballads. You watch the countryside roll by, the farmhouses little ships in the night, their lit windows a beacon as dusk falls. 

He bundles you into the farmhouse when you arrive, handing you a pair of house slippers that have little radishes on them. You can’t help your smile. 

You follow him into the living room and settle at the kotatsu when he points you there. It’s close enough that you can see into the kitchen through the open archway; he rolls up his sleeves and starts gathering ingredients from the fridge and the pantry.

“Can I help?” you ask after a few minutes, getting to your feet and joining him.

“Sure,” he says, handing you a freshly-washed daikon. “Slice that real thin, please.”

You make a cut. “This thin enough?”

He peers over. “A little thinner,” he says. “Can I?”

You nod and he takes your hands briefly, guiding them to the thinness he wants and pressing down. His hands are warm, his fingers and palm rough with calluses that catch lightly against your skin. He curls his fingers around yours, his tendons going taut, and pushes down. The knife slides through the daikon and stops against the cutting board. 

“There,” he says. “Like that.” 

“Okay.”

He nods and heads back to his cutting board which is laden down with a bright medley of varying vegetables. “What’re you doin’ tomorrow?'' he asks.

“Nothing,” you say. “Why?”

You sound more defensive than you mean to. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a sharp flicker of amber, but says nothing. 

“Was thinking you could come out to the fields with me.”

“I don’t know,” you say.

“It’d be good for you to get outside,” he says mildly. “Rather than being up in yer room all day.” 

Your knife thunks against the cutting board. Kita is unperturbed, only glancing your way briefly to make sure you’re not injured. He goes back to peeling carrots, his lean, strong hands moving quickly and with steady confidence. 

You study him for a moment, taking in the set of his lips and the soft furrow of his brow. You sigh.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll come.”

He flashes you a tiny quirk of his lips, a smile that’s as fleeting as a summer storm and just as warm. 

“Good.” 

He keeps cooking as he talks, pulling you from your thoughts when you get lost in them, when the fog starts to roll back in like a marine layer. It’s uncanny, how well he can tell when you’ve been set adrift. He’s a mooring you didn’t know you needed. 

Kita hums his thanks as you give him the daikon. He slips them into a pickling mix before handing you a cucumber. 

“Peel and cut thin?” you ask.

“Yup.” 

As you peel, you can’t help but watch as he moves about the kitchen. He moves as efficiently as ever, no wasted movement, but there’s something soft to it too. You can’t quite pin it down. 

“Yer staring.”

“Am I?”

“You know you are.” 

You shrug, starting to cut up the cucumber. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing important,” you say, waving him off. “Tell me how Aran is doing, he and I haven’t talked for a while.” 

The rest of the cooking goes by quickly as you talk and soon you’re both settled at the kotatsu. It’s radiating warmth. You snuggle deeper into it; with the sun fully set, it’s grown even more chilly outside despite the heat of the day. Winter is still a ways off, but you can feel the first touch of it hidden in the autumn breeze that leaks in through the window Kita had left cracked to keep the kitchen from overheating. 

You glance over the food. Kita’s kept it simple but hearty. There’s steam curling through the air in little smoky wisps. You watch as it dissipates and then take the plate that Kita hands you with a small thank you.

It’s a good meal. The two of you talk through it with ease, never missing a beat and rarely with an awkward pause. When you lapse into silence, it’s comfortable. 

“I should go,” you say eventually, glancing at the clock. “I don’t want to wake Yoshida when I come in.”

“Alright.” 

He drives you home, the headlights of his truck cutting through the night. The moon is out now; it bathes the fields with light until they practically shimmer. The crickets are calling, their song audible even over the low purr of the truck’s engine. 

When you pull up to Yoshida’s, there’s a light still on at the engawa, a soft glow to lead you home. It warms something in you.

Kita walks you to the door. 

“How early do I have to get up tomorrow?” you ask. “Do I even want to know?”

He laughs quietly. “Ya don’t need to keep my schedule,” he says. “I’ll come get you after lunch.” 

“Okay.”

He looks at you. His usual stoicness has faded into something warm and open; you take a deep breath. You bid him a quiet goodnight that he returns just as quietly, his amber eyes knowing. 

You go to sleep with your hand wrapped around your wedding rings. 

***

“Sunscreen,” Kita says, holding out the tube to you. 

“I know, I know,” you grouse, taking it from him. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“You forgot last time.”

“Point taken.” 

You apply the sunscreen as he gathers what he needs. He’s still rustling around when you finish. You turn your face up to the sun, letting the rays brush over your skin like a lover, a sweet kiss of heat. 

When you open your eyes again, Kita is watching you with a tiny smile, a crescent moon of a thing. Something in you pangs. 

You glance away from him and look to the rolling fields instead. In the bright sunlight, they’re Midas-touched, scorched gold with a hint of green at the bottom of each stem. It’s a sea of rice, rippling in the breeze like kelp caught in the ocean’s current, and it’s beautiful in a way that makes you feel small. 

Kita comes up beside you and gazes at his farm.

“It’s pretty,” you tell him.

“It’s gotta get cut,” he says.

“I know.”

He glances at you. You blink as he reaches out and smudges his thumb against your cheek. It’s gentle, his touch careful despite the rough calluses on the pad of his thumb. “Ya missed some sunscreen,” he says, rubbing it in with a light sweep. He lingers for a moment before pulling away.

“Oh. Thanks,” you say, biting at your lower lip as he turns away.

“C’mon,” Kita says. 

You follow him deep into the field, to a swath of already cleared land. The two of you settle at the edge of it. You watch as he lays out a woven bag with a label stamped on the front of it. He crouches down by the nearest stems of uncut rice and runs a hand over them, thumbing at the panicles with a deft movement. 

You don’t think he knows he’s smiling. 

“What do you want me to do?” you ask.

He glances back at you. “Can you lay out the bags? One at each pole should do.” 

You nod and set to work. He starts cutting at the rice. He makes it look easy, slicing through the stems as if they’re butter. The rice stalks start to pile up beside him as you make your way down the field with the bags. 

He’s made a significant dent by the time you’re back. He leans back on his heels as you approach again, wiping off his forehead with the back of his hand. His hair is clinging to him, dark with sweat, deepening the color to slate gray, like the winter sea. He smiles at you. 

“Can I try again?”

He’d taught you how to cut last time after you asked, citing the fact that you’ve been coming to the field with him for almost two weeks without trying. 

“Sure,” he says. He hands you a pair of gloves; you slip them on. “D’ya remember how to hold it?”

You kneel next to him, wrapping your fingers around a handful of stems. “Like this, yeah?”

“Thumb pointing up,” he says, reaching out and adjusting your grip. “And tighter.” 

He tightens his grip around your hand to show you, his strong fingers flexing. You copy him and he lets go when he’s satisfied with your grip. He hands you the knife—curved with a wicked edge—and sits back on his heels again.

“15 centimeters, yeah?” you ask, setting the edge of the knife against the stalks there.

“That’ll work.” 

You slice in a downward angle; the stalks part beneath the blade like silk. You hand off the rice to him to add to the pile. You keep working, feeling the sweat start to gather on your back, a few droplets rolling down before getting absorbed by your shirt.

“Good,” he says.

He lets you do a few more handfuls before he takes the knife back. You watch him work. He’s much quicker than you, moving with an easy grace.

“Why don’t ya head back to the truck,” he says, slicing through another handful of stalks. “I’m almost done.” 

You listen to him, heading back to the truck and settling in the bed of it, swinging your feet off the edge. You lay back and turn your gaze up to the sky, watching as a flock of birds goes soaring past, their wings dark against the deep blue of the sky. 

Kita joins you after a bit. You’ve been watching a hawk circle, riding the current high above you, and you don’t bother to sit up when you hear him approaching. 

He climbs up into the truck bed. He settles next to you and then lays down beside you, staring up at the sky with you. 

The two of you are quiet. You watch as the hawk wheels and wheels overhead before it dives down, dropping like a shooting star through the sky. 

You turn towards him; he’s already looking at you. His amber eyes are soft and you suck in a breath, your stomach flipping. 

“Shinsuke,” you say gently. “You know I can’t give you what you want, right?”

“I’m not askin’ you for anything,” he says, just as gently.

“I know. I just—I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, with Aoshi gone.”

He studies you for a moment. Then he smiles, warm and sweet and a little bit sad. 

“It’s always what you’re willing to give,” he says. “Nothing more and nothing less. That’s the only idea I have.”

You suck in a breath, fidgeting with your sleeve.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

You both go quiet again. 

Kita pushes up to his elbows; you peer up at him.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get going.”

“‘Kay.” 

He hops down from the truck bed gracefully before holding out a hand to help you down. You hesitate. He waits patiently, looking up at you. You take his hand without a word, his calluses rough against your palm.

You’re both quiet on the drive back to Yoshida’s. You spend the time looking out the window, watching the fields roll by. There are other farmers still hard at work, their blades flashing in the last dregs of the sunlight, like a dance. It’s a sight you never tire of. 

The sun has almost set by the time Kita drops you off. You toe off your shoes in the genkan and find Yoshida in the kitchen, scrubbing down the counter. There’s something savory in the air, rich and thick, and you spot a pot bubbling away on the stovetop, steam curling up from it like smoke. 

She eyes you for a moment. You don’t know what she sees in your face, but she gestures you into a seat.

“The fields are doing ya some good,” she says, her eyes still on the soapy counter.

“Are they?”

She nods decisively. “Yer different. You’re coming back to the world.”

You bite at your lip, worrying the flesh between your teeth. It doesn’t feel like it to you; some days you think you’ll never be in step with the world again, destined to always be just a few paces behind. 

“It’s hard to see it in yerself,” Yoshida says. “But it’s there.” 

“If you say so.”

“I do.” 

You can’t help the smile. A smile blooms on her lips too, small but sure. 

“I need to weed tomorrow. Could use your help, unless Shin-chan is going to steal you away again.”

“I’ll help,” you say, ignoring the last bit.

She studies you with keen eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but the front door opens and her son calls out a greeting. 

The rest of the night is quiet and morning comes before you know it.

You stare up at the ceiling as the sun rises, watery light leaking in through the sheer curtains. For a moment, you consider rolling over and going back to bed, but you can hear Yoshida shuffling around in her room. You resign yourself to getting up for the day.

A light breakfast later, you’re on your knees in the garden. The soil is still wet with morning dew and it sticks to your skin. The scent of wet loam rises around you, like the earth is welcoming you home. You let it fill your lungs.

The garden is a beautiful one, lush with autumn vegetables. You weed around the fat, sunshine yellow squashes, each one brighter than the last. The carrots are just peeking above the soil, little suns creeping up over the horizon. Their greens sway gently in the breeze. 

You’ve forgone gardening gloves despite Yoshida’s offer. It feels good to sink your fingers into the dirt, to pinch the weeds’ roots and pull them up gently. 

You’re still working when Kita’s truck trundles up the driveway. You sit back on your haunches and wipe the sweat from your brow as he gets out and comes your way.

“Hi,” he says with a little smile. “Hard at work, I see.”

“Gotta earn my keep,” you say, earning a snort from Yoshida who is working just a garden bed over.

“You have time for a break?”

“Depends,” you say, glancing at the bag he’s carrying. “Are those snacks?”

“Yup.” 

“Then I do,” you say, pushing to your feet. “Let me go wash my hands.” 

You eat together on the engawa, gazing out into the farmland. The wind chimes rustle above you, clinking lightly, a crystalline symphony just for the two of you. You sit back on your hands as Kita unpacks what he’s brought. 

It’s onigiri. They’re still warm, steam curling up from them when you break one open. A little bit of the filling spills out but you’re quick to catch it on your thumb, popping it into your mouth. 

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “They’re good.”

“Yer welcome.” 

“You take care of me so well,” you say with a little laugh. 

“I try,” he says, utterly serious. 

You flinch. It’s tiny, but from the way his gaze finds you, a firefly flicker, he notices. But he doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to take another bite of his onigiri. 

“Shin-chan,” Yoshida calls. “Come help an old woman with the watering.” 

You glance up to see that she’s heaving a full bucket of water towards the garden. Kita pushes to his feet immediately, crossing to her in a few easy strides. He takes the bucket without even pausing, lifting it with a single hand. 

“Granny,” he chides. “Ya could’ve gotten hurt.” 

She shrugs. He follows her to the garden beds, glancing back to send you a little smile. You watch him as he carefully waters the garden under Yoshida’s rigid instructions. The sun catches in his hair, bronzes his tanned skin. That same smile he’d flashed you lives on his lips, a quiet contentment tucked up secret into the corner of his mouth.

Kita comes back to you when he’s finished watering, settling at your side on the engawa once more. He eats the rest of his onigiri quickly. 

“I’ve gotta get back to the fields,” he tells you. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “Go do your job.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling with it.

He leaves soon after. You watch him go, until all you can see of his truck is the cloud of dust being kicked up behind it, until the horizon swallows him. 

Yoshida stands next to you on the engawa, shading her eyes as she watches him go too. 

“He’s a good man,” she says casually.

You glance at her. 

“He is.” 

“You could do much worse in a man.”

“It’s not like that.”

She raises a brow.

“It’s not. It’s just…complicated,” you say, winding your fingers through your necklace’s chain. Your rings clink against each other softly, the sound lost in the myriad of wind chimes surrounding you. For a moment you drift, tears pricking at your eyes before you blink them away.

“‘Course it is,” she says. “Most things are. But ah, pay no mind to an old lady. Let’s go harvest some of the squash.” 

You spend the rest of the day in the garden, harvesting away. The first frost isn’t too far off and you need to make sure you don’t lose any of the vegetables to it. Yoshida tells you exactly what to pick and what to leave. 

Night falls and you cook the first of the squash, painting it with a sweetened miso glaze that gleams stickily as you serve it. Yoshida makes a few side dishes too, putting them in pretty kobachi dishes. They’re delicate things, the soft silver of the moon, and you find yourself thinking of Kita. 

You shake yourself free of the thought before it fully forms. Yoshida’s son pulls you into a conversation and you chatter the night away, until you’re yawning between sentences. You finally trudge up to your room. 

The window lets in the faintest hint of gossamer moonlight. You gaze out into the night, into the endless countryside. You can just barely make out the next farmhouse, a lighthouse in the sea of darkness, its lights glittering on the very edge of the horizon. 

It looks lonely. You think of Kita again, of the little island of his farmhouse, how it’s tucked between the paddies with no other home in sight. You think of him alone at the kotatsu, reading glasses perched on his nose, and feel something in your chest clench.

You pull the curtains shut and go to bed.

***

The rest of the week rolls by and so does the next. It grows colder each day, winter’s first kiss. The leaves are going orange, as if little fires are catching the edges. It sets the trees ablaze with color. You hop from leaf to leaf as you and Kita walk along the road, delighting in each little crunch. 

“Having fun?” he calls out.

You turn around to face him, shading your eyes with one hand. His more sedate pace has left him lagging, but he’s quickly catching up now that you’ve stopped. “Can’t you tell?”

His breath mists in the air, a marine layer, and his lips quirk up into a little smile. “I can,” he says. “Just be careful, yeah? There’s still some frost lingering.”

You hum an acknowledgement and stomp on your next leaf. He chuckles quietly and you fall back to walk with him, shoving your hands into your pockets to ward off the cold. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “You know my sabbatical is almost over, right?”

He nods. “I know.”

“I think I’m gonna go home midweek next week,” you say. “Just to give myself some time to settle before I have to go back to work.” 

“Makes sense,” he says. “Let me know the details and I’ll get you to the station.” 

The two of you keep walking, huddling into each other slightly when the wind picks up. Some of his hair wisps across your face, the touch like silk against your skin. You shiver with it and return your gaze to the countryside, to the rolling hills and the shorn paddies. 

One or two of the trees are already fully bare; they reach towards the sky with long-fingered branches. There’s a murmur of swallows nestled in the nearest one, so numerous it’s as if the tree has leaves again. As you watch, they take to the skies, undulating through the soft gray-blue of it. 

“I’ll miss it,” you say softly.

“Bein’ here?”

“Yeah.” 

“Ya can come back anytime, y’know. There’s always a place for you.” 

You glance at him. His stoic face has softened and you think of the thaw of a spring day. How the quiet warmth of it melts the chill away. 

“Thanks, Shinsuke.”

“Mhm.” 

The two of you walk together quietly before turning around to head back to Kita’s farm when the chilly breeze becomes a whistling wind. It whips through the fields to cut through your clothing and you press into Kita without thinking, seeking the warmth of his solid form. He unwinds his scarf and drapes it around your neck; you don’t bother to protest. He’s immovable about things like this. Instead, you burrow into the warmth of it. 

You all but tumble into the genkan of the farmhouse. Kita follows you at a more sedate pace. You toe off your shoes and slip on your usual pair of house slippers. He does the same and you watch as he puts his shoes away carefully, arranging them perfectly within the cubby. 

You both settle at the kotatsu, huddling under the thick down of the blanket. You trace a finger over one of the origami cranes patterned into it. They’re perfect, so different from the clumsy paper cranes you’d both made with some of the local children the other day. 

Kita turns on the kotatsu. It starts to warm almost immediately and you sink into the heat of it with a quiet sigh.

“What’re you smiling about?” you ask him.

“You,” he says simply. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay,” you say. 

“D’ya want tea?” 

“Sure.”

He slips out from under the kotatsu and heads into the kitchen. You turn enough that you can still see him; you like watching him make tea. He’s careful and respectful of the process from beginning to end, but you like how it loosens his shoulders, how he unfurls, a night-blooming flower.

He rejoins you at the kotatsu once the tea is made, handing you a steaming cup. The scent of it billows through the air. When you sip at the tea, it settles warm in your chest, pushing out the autumn chill. 

“You’ll have to teach me how to make tea like this,” you tell Kita. 

He smiles into his cup. “It’s not hard.”

“Says you.”

“Might not have time to teach you before you go,” he says with a frown. “The farm—”

“You can teach me when you visit.” You pause. “You will visit, right?” 

“Of course.”

“Good,” you say, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You can teach me then.”

He agrees and the conversation flows until it’s late. You peer out into the darkness and see the moon—full-bellied with light—is beginning to set, sinking through the dark ocean of the sky like an anchor. 

“Shit,” you say. “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“S’fine,” Kita says. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, I know. Ugh, I’m gonna wake up Yoshida when I get in.”

“You can stay, y’know.” 

You glance at him. He meets your gaze steadily.

“I have a guest room,” he reminds you. 

“Okay,” you say after a moment. “Okay.”

“You’ll have to get up early, though.”

“That’s fine.” 

He smiles softly. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s finish cleaning up.”

You clean up the kotatsu quickly; despite the late hour, Kita still takes the time to wash the dishes. He washes them with careful concentration and something in your chest pangs. 

“Go ahead to the guest room,” he says. “‘M almost done here. I’ll see if I can find you somethin’ to sleep in.” 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright.”

The guest room is homey, with a handmade quilt patterned with rice plants that almost look like they’re rippling in the wind. You trace a finger over one of them as you glance around the rest of the room, taking in the way the stark cleanliness is offset by the items scattered about: the fan patterned with cherry blossoms hanging on the wall; the plant at the window, lush despite the season; a paperweight on the desk, glass swirled through with blue and white, the ocean roiling within it. It’s not quite Kita, but you can sense him in it all the same. 

Kita knocks on the door frame. You turn to look at him. “Here,” he says, holding out a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Thought you might need these.”

“Thanks,” you say, sending him a little smile. “Appreciate it.”

“‘Course.” 

“Night, Shinsuke.”

“G’night,” he says. “I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“Sounds good.”

He disappears into his room.

You get ready for bed and slide under the covers. The quilt is heavy and warmth builds quickly under it, like a banked fire. You turn your face into the pillow to hide from the moonlight slanting in through the window. The pillowcase smells vaguely like Kita and the simple detergent he uses. 

Sleep comes easily.

So easily that it feels like you’ve only been asleep for a second when Kita’s knocking on the guest room door to rouse you for the day. Blearily, you slip on your clothing before trudging into the kitchen. 

Kita glances up as you enter. His hair is still damp from the shower; it glistens like the gray winter sea beneath a bleak sun. 

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Hi,” you grumble.

He breathes out a quiet laugh. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get you home.” 

You drowse on the ride back to Yoshida’s, just aware enough to hear the quiet hum of the radio as it fills the truck’s cab. The sun is starting to rise, the first fingers of light painting the horizon orange, like embers just beginning to catch. You turn away from it, curling into yourself in the front seat. 

The truck rumbling to a halt wakes you. You grouse and Kita laughs again. He doesn’t bother to dodge when you swat at him.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you say with a yawn, one hand on the car door’s handle, already looking forward to crawling back into bed. 

“‘Course,” he says. “You always have a place with me.”

You pause. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

His eyes crinkle with his smile. 

“Go to work,” you tell him.

“Yes ma’am.”

You hop out and head to the genkan. You hear the truck rumble to life behind you, the engine practically purring. By the time you make it to the genkan and look back, Kita is already down the road.

You watch until he’s gone from view.

***

This early, the train station is quiet.

The sun is still rising, casting pale golden rays across the parking lot. It haloes Kita in light as he pulls your suitcase from the truck bed, his muscles flexing with the movement. You take it from him and the two of you head towards the platform together.

“Travel safe, alright?” he says when you come to a halt just before the doors. 

“Shinsuke,” you say, “thank you for everything.” 

“Anytime.” 

“You’ll visit?”

“I’ll visit,” he confirms. “You?”

“I’ll come back,” you say. 

“Good.”

He smiles at you, a slow, sweet thing that makes you think of the sun’s rise. It’s steady and sure, unshakeable. 

You throw your arms around him in a hug. He stumbles for a second, caught off guard, but he catches himself quickly and wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly. You bury your face in his shoulder. He smells like plain soap, fresh and clean, with the faintest kiss of lemon, a touch of sour citronella that you know he uses for the fields. 

When you pull away, the tips of his ears are pink. 

“Bye, Shinsuke,” you say.

“Bye,” he says softly. 

You head inside the station. When you glance back, you can just make out the silhouette of him, lean and strong. He must be able to see you, because he gives a little wave before he turns away. 

The train is almost empty when you board it and you settle in a window seat. You close your eyes and turn your face towards the sun, the gentle rays just barely starting to warm as they brush against your skin. 

You open your eyes when the train starts to move, peering out of the window as the countryside speeds by. The rice fields are shorn short now but the gold of them hasn’t faded. The remains of the stalks reach towards the great blue sky, two expanses meeting. Beyond the fields, even the hills are going golden, though they’re slower, with green patches scattered across them like lily pads in a pond. 

You think you might be leaving a part of yourself in the expanse of the country. That the fields have swallowed up some part of you, like the earth swallows a seed. It makes something in you pang.

Soon enough, the countryside melts away into the suburbs. Then come the neon lights of the city, streaking by like fireflies, little blips of color that blink to life here and there. 

You hadn’t realized how much you missed it. 

The house is quiet when you step into the genkan; only the musical clink of your keys fills the space. The greeting is on the tip of your tongue, but you catch it behind your teeth and swallow it back down. You take in a deep breath and set your suitcase down before brushing by the photos in the entryway, most of them facedown. 

It takes time to unpack. Most of your clothes are clean, but you run a load of laundry anyway, listening to the way the water swishes and spins, the low rumble of it filling the house. You text Kita to let him know you’ve arrived safely and then collapse onto your couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

You don’t know how long you lie there before you hear the door to the house open. Muffled bickering floats to you from the genkan and you push yourself up just as Abe comes barreling around the corner. 

She skids to a stop just before the couch and grins down at you. 

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” you reply. “Did you break in?”

“No,” Yoshikawa says, appearing from around the corner. She twirls something around her finger; it glints in the light. “Used the spare.”

“It’s funny,” you say. “I don’t remember inviting either of you over.”

She shrugs elegantly, her long hair swaying like kelp in a current. “Did you really think we were going to miss you coming home?”

“No,” you say with a little laugh. “I didn’t.”

“Good.” 

You exchange hugs with both of them, holding them tightly and yelping when Abe spins you in a circle. Yoshikawa is more sedate but her hug is strong and warm. You blink away the tears before they can fall.

The three of you settle into the living room. You catch up with each other easily, swapping stories and laughing together, the sound billowing through the room to fill even the darkest corners with joy. Your heart aches as Abe throws back her head and laughs, her dark hair shimmering in the light, her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

“You’re too easily entertained,” Yoshikawa informs her, but there’s a smile playing at her lips too, downy-soft and deeply pleased.

“Shut up,” Abe says, still giggling. 

For a moment, you just watch them, taking in their features, their smiles, the sound of them. You want to commit them to memory, parts of them that you’ve taken into yourself to treasure, to keep. Pieces never to be lost.

“Hey,” Yoshikawa says. “What’s wrong?”

You realize that your cheeks are hot and wet. You scrub a hand over your face as more tears fall. 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just really missed you.”

She hums, but doesn’t push you on it, sending Abe a look when she opens her mouth. “We missed you too,” she says. “Do you want us to spend the night?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, thinking of how empty the house was before they filled it. “That would be great.”

“Okay.” 

The conversation picks up again, only pausing when you order takeout as night falls. Though you’ve spoken consistently with them while you were in the country, there are still stories to tell. The three of you talk and talk, full of laughter and love, and it only feels a little bittersweet.

As the night deepens, Yoshikawa and Abe go to the genkan and grab the bags they’ve brought, much to your embarrassment. Abe pats you on the shoulder as you bury your face in your hands. Neither of them comment.

You tumble into bed with them in a mess of limbs. When the dust settles, you’re curled up on your side of the bed, almost pushed off the edge by Abe’s starfished limbs. You poke her in the stomach and she curls up with a groan. You reclaim the space quickly.

“Rude,” she tells you. 

“You were taking up the whole bed!”

She grumbles but doesn’t bother to argue. 

Quiet falls, only the gentle sound of breathing filling the room. You snuggle down into your comforter, pushing closer to Abe and relishing her warmth.

“I invited Shinsuke to visit,” you breathe.

Yoshikawa pushes up to her elbows behind Abe, peering down at you with her dark, knowing eyes. 

“Here?” she asks.

You nod, the pillowcase crinkling against your cheek.

She hums, low and sweet, a honeyed thunder. “You’ll let him stay at the house?”

“I don’t know,” you say, thinking of Takao, the way he’d been flayed open when he asked you to not bring Kita to the house. “Aoshi—”

“Isn’t here,” Yoshikawa says gently. “You don’t have to hold on to that promise if you don’t want to.”

You blink against the tears as they swell up, beading on your eyelashes like little diamonds. Abe reaches out and cups your cheek. 

“You’ll figure it out,” she says softly. “You don’t need to know now.” 

You close your eyes, a few more tears trickling down. The pillowcase is damp beneath your cheek. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re right.” 

“I always am,” she says, and then yelps when Yoshikawa pinches her. “Ow, Yocchan!”

Yoshikawa ignores her, settling back down onto the bed with a yawn.

It’s contagious; you find yourself yawning as well and snuggle down deeper into the comforter once more. Abe shifts closer, seeking heat.

You fall asleep with her pressed tight against your side.

It feels like coming home.

***

Fall fades away.

The trees lose their leaves entirely, leaving branches that reach into the sky with scraggly fingers. Frost creeps over the windows in icy whorls, a cobweb of winter, fanning out in intricate patterns that melt when you breathe on them. The winter sun glows in the softened blue of the sky, only to be replaced with gray clouds.

The first snow is falling when you go to pick up Kita.

The flakes are fat and fluffy, perfectly crystalline. They flutter through the air like butterflies, spinning in great, lazy arcs as they drift to the ground. They melt as soon as they hit the pavement. 

They catch in Kita’s hair as the two of you head into the house, little dew drops that make his gray hair shine. He’s cherry-cheeked with the cold, his face half-buried in his scarf. It’s cute. Something in you pangs when he sends you a little smile, only discernible by the way his eyes crinkle at the edges. 

The two of you peel off your outer layers in the genkan. Kita puts his away carefully, at odds with your slightly haphazard method of kicking your boots away to find later. 

“It’s future me’s problem,” you tell him and he just shakes his head, a small smile caught in the corner of his lips. 

You show him to the guest room, freshly made up for his visit, and linger in the hallway as he stores his suitcase. 

“Dinner?” you ask as he steps out into the hall again.

“That’d be great.”

“C’mon, I’ve got some things ready in the kitchen.” 

“Sounds good.”

He follows you into the kitchen and insists on helping. You direct him to the plates as you check on what you’ve made. There’s colorful tsukemono, each pickled vegetable bright in its own way, stained to watercolors by the pickling liquid. The curry is thick and bubbling, with chunks of heavily marbled meat and vegetables coated in the sauce. The rice is steaming lightly and so are the nikuman, each bun pinched shut perfectly. 

“Ya didn’t need to go to all this trouble,” Kita says, eyeing the food as he sets the table. 

“Too late,” you say cheerfully. “Eat.” 

He smiles softly, shaking his head, but sits down when you gesture. You join him and the two of you start to fill your plates. 

You talk quietly as you eat, all easy chatter. Part of you can’t help but think of the beginning, when everything with him was stilted and careful. That’s changed through the years but it’s even easier now, the conversation flowing like a river, calm and unchanging. 

When you’re done eating, Kita collects the plates and brings them to the sink. He rolls up his sleeves and turns the water on. You sigh but don’t bother to say anything. Instead, you settle in next to him with a dish towel in your hand. 

He’s radiating a soft, gentle heat. It takes conscious effort to not lean into him. 

He washes and you dry, falling into an effortless rhythm. 

“Are you seeing Aran while you’re here?” you ask.

“He’s away trainin’,” Kita says, handing you another dish. “So’s Atsumu. I’ll see Osamu, but you know I’m here to see you, right?”

Your cheeks heat. “I know,” you say. “But two birds, one stone, y’know?”

He hums, rinsing off the final dish and drying his hands. He leaves his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. For a moment, you watch the play of his muscles, the way they coil beneath his tanned skin as he picks up the dry dishes and brings them back to the cabinet. You look away when you realize what you’re doing.

You both go to bed early that night; Kita’s tired from his usual early wake-up and the travel. You try not to laugh as he bids you goodnight. It’s cute, the way he blinks sleepily, his amber eyes softened to a honeyed brown. 

You can hear him as you get ready for bed, the quiet little noises of another person’s presence. It soothes something in you. 

You glance at your wedding rings, ensconced in a little jewelry dish on your nightstand. They gleam in the light. You run your fingers over them, tracing the cool metal gently. 

You put them away in a drawer before you go to sleep.

***

The snowstorm hits on the last day of Kita’s visit. 

The wind whips between buildings, catching the snowflakes and tossing them about like ships on a stormy sea. The snow piles up into thick drifts, the silken white of it gone yellow beneath the glow of the street lights, like a melting pat of butter. 

You and Kita watch the storm from where you’re tucked under the kotatsu. You’d pulled it out when you’d heard the forecast, the two of you working together to get it set up. It still works, luckily, and the two of you sit next to each other and bask in the soothing warmth. 

The wind slows; you gaze at the snowflakes as they slow, drifting like dancers across the stage, each puffy flake a part of its own ballet. Everything has gone quiet, muffled at the edges. It’s like the world is waiting to take its next breath. 

“What are you thinking?” Kita asks softly.

When you glance at him, he’s already looking at you.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice just as soft as his. “All sorts of things.”

He hums quietly.

The wind picks up again; the windows rattle with it. You shiver, snuggling further under the kotatsu. Kita shifts. His leg presses against yours, a line of warmth even under the heat of the kotatsu. 

You glance at him. He’s watching the storm. It reflects in his eyes, lightening them, taking them from amber to gold. You think of the rice fields at their peak, when they’re treasured gold, and can’t help the small smile that curls around your lips.

Perhaps he feels your gaze, because Kita turns to face you. In the low light, he’s softened at the edges, a watercolor being. His eyes are aglow, like sunlight pooling. He gives you a small smile. 

“What is it?”

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you say quietly, the words pouring from you like a waterfall, something unstoppable. 

He goes still for a breath, a statue of old. Then he softens again.

“You’ll always have me,” he says, and you used to hate how true it is. Now, though—now it feels different. Just a bit. 

“Thank you, Shinsuke,” you say. 

Something flickers over his face like heat lightning, too quick for you to comprehend. You think you might have disappointed him. 

You turn your gaze away. It lands on a picture frame placed face-down. You suck in a deep breath. Before you can stop them, the tears are burning behind your eyes, starting to trickle down your cheeks. You scrub at them with one hand.

“Sorry,” you say to Kita.

“S’alright,” he says. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, even as another tear trickles down to pool salty on your tongue.

He reaches out, his hand hovering in the space between the two of you. He waits.

You nod.

He cups your cheek and sweeps his thumb under your eye. His touch has the same aching tenderness of a fresh, swollen bruise. You lean into his palm, keeping your eyes on his, your cheeks hot as he smiles at you sadly. 

He wipes away the tears before pulling back. You can see the gleam of them on his thumb. 

“Thanks,” you say softly.

“Course.”

You scrub away the remains of the tears and then blow out a big breath. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Kita studies you for a moment. You don’t know what he sees in your face, but he nods, giving you a soft smile. “Sure.”

“Great,” you say, pushing to your feet. “You choose.”

“If you want,” he says, standing as well and heading towards the living room. “No complaining, though.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there in a minute,” you call after him, leaning down to turn off the kotatsu. You tuck the comforter in, tidying it up lightly. You nod to yourself. When you turn around, you pause for a moment, your gaze settling on the face-down picture frame.

It’s a photo you know well, one of you and Takao on the beach, the ocean a vast expanse behind you, glittering with the searing blue of the tropics. You’re caught mid-laugh as Takao plants a kiss on your cheek. It’s always been a favorite.

Before you leave the room, you stand the picture frame back up. 

***

You drop Kita off at the train station early the next day. You breathe him in as you hug him goodbye, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He tightens his grip around you with a little laugh. 

“I’ll come to the farm in spring,” you tell him. “I promise.” 

“Good.”

You wave goodbye as he enters the train station; he glances back right before he disappears through the doors. Something warm blooms in you. It settles in your stomach and flutters there.

When you’ve made it home, you pull out your phone. You settle onto the edge of the couch as it rings, your shoulders stiff. 

It rings until the voicemail clicks on and Takao’s voice floods your ears. You close your eyes as his voicemail message plays, letting his voice wash over you like a summer storm, a warm, sweet rain. You listen to Takao talk, relearning the cadence of his voice, the way it rises and falls, the way his tongue curls around words. You hadn’t realized how much of it you’d forgotten. 

“Hi,” you say when the tone beeps. “I miss you.”

You’re quiet for a moment; the line carries on, reflecting you breathing back to yourself.

“Shinsuke just left,” you say. “Aoshi—I think I like him. More than I ever thought I could. Is that alright?”

The line is silent.

“I didn’t mean to like him,” you say. “I really didn’t. But he’s good, Aoshi. He’s so good.” 

You sniffle.

“I don’t know what to do,” you murmur. “I don’t know how to leave you behind. But I think—I think he’s okay with that. I just—it feels like giving in. Like our choice, the one we made over and over again, was for nothing.” 

You take in a deep, steadying breath. 

“I know that’s not true. I know that our choice was for everything. That it never really was a choice in the first place, not for me.”

“I just—I really think I like him, Aoshi. Is that alright? Please tell me it’s alright.” 

The voicemail beeps; you’ve hit the end of the time you can record. You hang up and bury your face in your hands. 

“Fuck. Fuck!”

You lay back on the couch, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands. You curl in on yourself. 

You grab your phone and dial again.

“Hi.”

“Natsumi.”

“Oh, shit, no nickname, that’s not a good sign.” 

“I think I like Shinsuke.” 

She pauses. “Is that a bad thing?” she asks gently. 

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

“It just—”

“Feels like giving in?”

“...Yeah. Was this always going to happen?” 

“Maybe,” she says. “But maybe not. You don’t have to be with him, you know. If you don’t want to, that is.” 

“I don’t know what I want.”

“I think you do,” she says gently.

“I don’t, Nat-chan.” 

“Okay. Okay. Let me put it this way: is your only issue with Kita the fact that he’s your soulmate?”

“He’s not Aoshi.”

“No one is going to be Aoshi. You know that.”

“I do.”

“Liking Kita isn’t giving up on Aoshi. It’s not leaving him behind. It’s just moving forward. You’ll bring him with you no matter what, no matter how far forward you move,” she says, and you bite at your bottom lip until you can taste blood.

“I don’t want to be with my soulmate just because they’re my soulmate.”

“Do you really think you might like Kita just because he’s your soulmate?”

“...No.” 

“It’s not bad to like him,” she says, not unkindly. “You’re not bad for liking him because of who he is.” 

“I don’t even know if I really like him.”

“Sweetheart,” Abe says, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t.” 

You go quiet. As her words settle in, you glance out the window. The snow on the ground is still pristine; it glimmers under the bleak winter sunlight. The neighborhood children are starting to stomp through it. They’re bundled up tight, practically waddling as they play. You take a deep breath.

“Maybe you’re right,” you say. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to say that I always am before you believe me.”

“You’re wrong way too much for me to believe that.” 

“Don’t be mean!”

You smile. “Thanks, Nat-chan,” you say softly.

“Any time,” she says. “You’ll figure it out.”

As you hang up, you know that you will. 

***

Winter melts into spring.

The snow gives way to crocuses, which bloom like bruises, deep purple with stamen peeking shyly out of the center. The trees come to life, budding quickly, little specks of green dotted along the branches like stars. 

And on the farm, there are ducklings, tiny and fluffy, their down pollen-yellow. 

“Oh, Shin,” you say as he hands you one, dropping it carefully into your hands. It peeps its protest before snuggling up in your palm like a tiny sun. “I love them.”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich. “I thought you might. Do you wanna name ‘em?”

“Really? You’ll let me?”

“Course.” 

“I’ll have to think of good ones,” you say. “Can I have a few days?”

“Take as much time as you need,” he says. “They’re not going anywhere.”

You nuzzle up against the one in your hand; it peeps again, as if grumbling at you. When you glance at Kita, he has a fond smile playing on his lips.

He takes you around on some of his other chores. There are seedlings in the garden, tiny little things just barely poking out of the ground, a promise of green growth. You water them carefully, wary of their thin, delicate stems.

Finally, you find yourself back in Kita’s genkan. Your boots—a pair of his, really, laced tightly to keep them on—are muddy, so you stop just inside the door. You’re leaning down to untie the boots when Kita kneels before you. 

“Shin…” you say and he glances back up at you with mischief in his smile. You decide it’s not worth it to try and stop him. 

He makes quick work of the laces with his deft fingers. You watch his bent head quietly, taking in the thunderstorm gray of it, edged with blackened clouds. You catch yourself before you run your fingers through it. 

“Up,” he says. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder as you step out of first boot; he wraps his hand around your wrist. 

It’s not long before both boots are off. Before you can even start to move, Kita has your house slippers in hand. He takes your ankle in his big hand, waiting for you to lift your foot so he can slip on the first slipper.

You almost balk. But he looks up at you with his keen amber eyes and you can’t help yourself. You lift your foot and he slides the slipper into place. He does the same thing with the second slipper. 

“Thanks,” you say, cheeks hot.

He nods. He pushes to his feet, a graceful ripple of motion, and tilts his head at you. “Lunch?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you say. “That sounds good.” 

You cook together with ease. You know his kitchen by heart now, able to pull pans from their place without looking, knowing which of his fresh herbs to clip without double-checking with him. 

It makes something in you ache. 

Kita returns to the fields after lunch. You choose to not go with him, deciding instead to curl up on the engawa with a book. You settle into place with your book on your lap and stare out into the countryside. 

It’s just beginning to go green with the flooded paddies glinting in the sun, a false ocean. The water glimmers with movement as the breeze rolls over you. A stork prowls through the paddies, long and elegant, moving with slow precision. Its beak flashes as it darts down to snap up some little creature. It takes off after that, spreading its wings wide and soaring into the blue expanse of the sky. You watch until it’s no more than a dot in the vastness. 

You curl up and start reading and don’t notice when evening starts to fall. That’s where Kita finds you when he comes home from the fields. You hadn’t even noticed his truck trundling up the driveway. 

“Hi,” you say as he comes up on the engawa, marking your place and getting to your feet.

“Hi,” he replies. “Have you been here all afternoon?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.” 

You eye him, trying to figure out what’s given you away. Kita stays stoic, as if carved from stone, and you huff. 

You follow him inside, kicking off your outside shoes before he can even try to kneel, and hop up from the genkan. As usual he goes to shower, ready to rinse off the fields. You keep reading.

He comes padding back into the kitchen a while later with a towel wound around his neck. His hair is still damp and you can see a cowlick curling at the back of his head. His tan skin glistens. 

“Dinner?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “What do you want to make?”

You discuss your options in front of the fridge, crowded in next to each other to see what he has. He’s still warm from the shower. You press closer to him and see him glance at you from the corner of his eye. He smiles, soft and sweet, and turns his attention back to the fridge. 

Eventually, you finally decide. Kita hands you a handful of carrots and you start to julienne them thinly, your knife—perfectly sharp, the most well-maintained kitchen knife you’ve ever seen—flashing in the light. 

He starts halving baby bok choy, little gems of green and white. The pan hisses when he drops them in, giving it a good toss before he moves on to his next task. 

“Is it really okay for me to be here during such a busy season?” you ask.

He glances at you. “I wouldn’t invite ya if it wasn’t a good time.” 

“True.”

“Besides, I told you there was always a place here for you, and I meant it.” 

Your cheeks heat. “I know.” 

“Good.”

Quiet falls, broken only by the sound of your knife against the board and the hiss of the pan as Kita stirs it again. It’s comfortable, though, and you feel no need to fill the air. The two of you cook away, moving around each other easily in his small kitchen, as if it’s a dance you’ve always known. 

It’s comforting in a way you’d almost forgotten.

You take a deep breath, your stomach churning a bit, and Kita glances over at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Just tired.”

He smiles softly. “If you wanna go to bed early, I don’t mind.” 

“We’ll see,” you tell him. “Now finish up, I’m hungry.” 

He laughs, but the two of you are done cooking not long after. You settle down to eat. You tell him some ideas you’ve had to name the ducks (“Duck is a perfectly good name, Shin!” “If ya say so.”) and he tells you about his day. It’s peaceful. Easy. 

You’ve just finished eating when you reach out and cover Kita’s hand with your own. “Shin,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Fer what?”

You shrug, unable to put the jumble inside you into words.

He turns his hand over under yours and laces your fingers together. You don’t pull away.

“Yer always thankin’ me,” he says softly. “You don’t need to.” 

“I do, though.”

“You don’t.” 

You look at him. He meets your gaze easily, amber eyes gone whiskey-dark. He gives your hand a little squeeze. 

“You don’t need to thank me for anything,” he says.

You squeeze back. “I will, though.” 

He sighs but doesn’t argue. 

For another moment, you both sit there, hands intertwined. You watch each other. You can feel the strength in his fingers and the hint of sweat on his palm. It’s warm and solid and real. Something in your chest stirs. 

You’re the one that pulls back first, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Kita lets you go without a word. 

The rest of dinner is quiet; you both go to your rooms early, influenced by Kita’s schedule. You murmur a soft goodnight in the hallway. You can still hear him when you’re in the guest room, listening to him rustling around before it all goes silent.

You gaze out the guest room window, taking in the rising moon. It’s waxing, almost full-bellied with light, pouring over the fields. It reflects off the water of the flooded paddies, a distorted mirror of itself. Under the moonlight, the fields go silvery, delicate and gossamer as they start to come to life. It’s beautiful in a foreign way. 

You curl up on the bed with your book, texting Yoshikawa and Abe here and there as your phone lights up. When the moon is high in the sky, you finally get ready for bed. 

You fall asleep thinking about the weight of Kita’s hand in your own. 

***

Something shifts between you.

It’s slow like a dune in the wind, the sand taking on a new shape, but neither of you have mentioned it. Maybe you don’t need to. Maybe it’s all said in each fleeting glance, a language written in the amber of Kita’s gaze. 

The days pass in a flicker of quiet moments. You spend a morning naming the ducklings, tucked in close to Kita’s side so he can see which one you’re pointing to. You repeat yourself as he takes them in, his brow furrowed as he notes the name for each nearly-identical duckling. 

Some days you join him in the fields, kneeling down into the muck to sow a shoot into place. He guides you with careful hands, his warm fingers wrapped firmly around yours. You eat lunch in the bed of his truck, mud flaking off of your boots, and bask in the spring sun. 

It’s easy. It’s terrifying. 

You think of the taste of ozone, how it crackles on your tongue. The slow, sharp bite of it. 

You know something will give. That the storm will break over you and change everything in its path. 

You think you might finally be ready for it. 

***

You come awake with a jolt. 

The sheets stick to you, caught in the layer of sweat accumulating on you. You sit up and press a hand to your heart, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings. 

Once you’ve regained your breath, you stumble over to the window and pull it open. The countryside breeze billows inside. It still carries the sharp bite of winter, but it’s mellowed under spring’s tender bloom. You close your eyes and let it flow over you. 

The breeze cools you, your sweat going tacky before it dries down completely. The dream rolls over you again and you shudder.

You find yourself padding down the hallway without realizing it. You stop just in front of the door. You tug at your lower lip with your teeth before taking a deep breath.

You knock gently on the door and then open it. 

“Shin?” you whisper.

The lump on the bed stirs. Kita pushes up onto his elbows. He’s bathed in moonlight, his hair haloed silver, the dark tips a moon’s eclipse. He’s bleary-eyed but he focuses on you instantly.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Bad dream.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate. 

“That bad?”

You shake your head. “I just…can I lay with you for a bit? Is that okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. You need to know he’s still here. That he’s real. 

His eyes widen before they go soft. He pulls back the covers and scoots over to give you more room. You’re across the room in an instant, slipping onto the futon. It’s still warm with his body heat and you shiver, goosebumps dancing across your skin. 

You keep a small distance between you when you lay down, but you let your head turn towards him. He’s still up on one elbow, the muscles in his bicep bunched with it, and he’s studying you carefully. 

He’s handsome, you realize, not for the first time. He’s sleep-rumpled, his hair messy and ruffled and his shirt wrinkled and bunched up just enough to show off a silver of his paler belly. The moonlight plays over him like a lover, lingering on the arch of his cheekbones and the dusting of freckles sprayed over his nose. His thick lashes flutter as he blinks, showcasing eyes gone golden, and you almost sigh.

He lies back down when you don’t move. The space between the two of you is small but it feels massive, a gulf between your two bodies, separating the shores of you. 

“You okay?” he asks again.

You shake your head. 

He reaches out and hesitates halfway, his big hand hovering in the air. In the moonlight, the constellation of his scars is more visible, little nicks and cuts that gleam bone-white in the light. 

“Can I?” he asks.

Your nod is tiny; the sheets crinkle with it.

He cups your cheek. His palm is rough against your skin but he’s careful with it, touches you as if you’re made of glass. It’s almost reverent. He sweeps his thumb across the apple of your cheek.

“What did you dream of?” he breathes.

“You.”

“Me?”

“I couldn’t find you,” you murmur, leaning into his touch. “I looked and looked, but you weren’t there.”

“I’m here now.”

You hum.

“I’m here now,” he says again and it sounds like a promise.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “You are.” 

You shift on the futon. The sheets smell of him, of the faintest hint of the salt of his skin and his soap, and you close your eyes to let it envelop you. You nestle down into the pillow with a little yawn. 

“Go back to bed,” Kita murmurs, caressing your cheek with careful fingers. “You’ll be tired in the morning.”

You stir under his touch, opening one eye. He’s watching you, his amber eyes unbearably fond, and something in you pangs. You press closer to him; he radiates a gentle warmth and you relax into it.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask quietly. “Please?” 

You pretend to not hear the way his breath catches. 

“You sure?” he asks.

You press closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna regret it when my alarm goes off at dawn,” Kita says, a smile written in his sleep-rough voice. 

“I won’t,” you say. “Promise.”

He hums skeptically.

“Maybe you’ll regret it,” you whisper into the salt of his skin. “You might.”

He stills, and then he’s coaxing you up to look at him. His eyes gleam in the dim, a flash of amber, of the richness of the earth. He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. 

“No,” he says. “I could never regret you.”

He always hears what you can’t quite bring yourself to say. 

“Never?” 

He nudges his nose against yours.

“Never.”

His breath stirs against your lips, and you take it in, make it your own. You sway closer, undulating like kelp, half-dizzy with it, and then you sway closer still.

He waits for you.

(He always has.)

When you kiss him, it’s simple. It feels right. 

Kita sighs into it, one big hand coming up to cup your face, his rough palm reverent against your skin. There’s no urgency to him; he’s honey-slow with it, melting into you under the cover of night. 

You kiss him again, and again, like the tide against the shore, lapping at the edges of him until you’re etched into his skin. He meets you each time, sweet and steady. 

You kiss him until he is all you know, and then you kiss him once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re crying until he sweeps his thumb over your cheekbone.

You part your lips, and he presses a little kiss against them before he pulls back. In the dim, his amber eyes have gone whiskey-dark, deep and heady. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to explain.” 

You press your face into the warm crook of his neck again. He smells of plain soap and a lingering hint of citronella from the fields, sweet and stinging. You breathe him in, let the scent of him settle into you, a part of him to carry always. 

Kita curls a gentle arm around you. 

“Go to sleep,” he breathes, and you pull back to look at him. He watches you, his vulpine eyes unbearably fond, and he smiles against your lips when you kiss him again.

He cups your cheek and pulls you into a deeper kiss before he backs away. He sweeps his lips against yours in a chaste peck and says again, “Go to sleep.”

“Fine,” you murmur. You curl up into him as his breath starts to even out. You listen to the tide of it, the ebb and flow, a balm against a bruise you’ll always have, and close your eyes knowing that he’s right there.

You wake to the quiet beep of his alarm clock. He rises from bed with quicksilver ease, the thick muscles of his back rippling under his sleep shirt. It’s barely dawn; wan light filters in through the curtains like an azure sea, outlining him faintly as he moves around the room. He looks like something out of a painting, sketched out in broad strokes of soft shadows.

He looks too good to be true. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs as you shift on the futon. His sheets are well-worn, the type of broken in that comes with years of use and careful care. “It’s early.”

Instead, you get up with him, slipping out from beneath the warmth of the comforter with a soft sigh. Kita gives you a little smile, a crescent moon tilt of his lips, and your cheeks heat. You glance away and hear him huff out a laugh.

He disappears into the bathroom, and you make up the futon, smoothing your hands over the wrinkles until they disappear. 

By the time he pads into the kitchen, the old coffeemaker is hissing and gurgling, spitting out a steady drip of liquid. He brushes by you to get a mug, his hand warm on your lower back as he sidles past. The heat of him lingers. 

The two of you eat breakfast in a comfortable silence. He slides his portion of your favorite onto your plate without a word; you push your share of pickled daikon into one of his small kobachi dishes. He says nothing,, but his lips quirk at the edges, the faintest hint of a sweet smile. 

He gets up when you’re both finished, pushing to his feet in one fluid movement. His muscles coil with it, going taut beneath his tanned skin. It’s more distracting than you thought it would be.

You peer at him from the corner of your eyes as he starts to clear the table. He moves with careful intent, his big hands steady against the delicate porcelain. 

You want to kiss him again.

Instead, you get to your feet and finish clearing the table, handing him dishes when he gestures for them. You wash the dishes together. Over the whisper of the running water, you talk about your upcoming day, trying to decide if you’ll be able to eat lunch together as well. You can’t quite keep the smile from your lips. 

When the dishes are put away, you walk with him onto the engawa. He cups your cheek, sweeping his thumb over the arch of your cheekbone, and smiles. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he says. 

“I’ll be here,” you say, soft and full of promise, and his eyes crinkle with his smile.

You watch from the engawa as he disappears into the distance, into the paddies, swallowed up by the verdant world he’s created with his own hands. He glances back at you once, just before he disappears from sight. 

You raise your face to the gentle warmth of the rising sun.

It’s a new day.