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tojiscumdumpster · 6 months ago

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TOJI

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Zen’in Chiaki. Sixty-three. Location is in Okinawa, Japan… Reason for kill–tampering of legal documents within the company…

The more I read this shit, it doesn’t make sense to me. A Zen’in being targeted for fucking with documents? I have no fear when it comes to those fuckers, but I don’t think anyone would be reckless enough to get themselves involved with that family.

My time there had me witnessing the most gruesome shit whenever someone tried to interfere with their affairs, so anyone without guts would even try to take them out. Now I’m reading a contract with a sixty-three-year-old woman that’s on their shitlist for tampering?

Something’s not adding up, especially when the woman appears to be from that family.

Zen’in Chiaki? That name doesn’t ring a bell. Don’t remember my old man having any aunts, and all his siblings are men. Could she be a cousin? A wife? I have no fucking clue. But I need a more detailed reason why she’s being targeted to kill because I just don’t go around sniping old ladies for the hell of it.

Is this why Kong was up my ass about taking this contract? Because the person is a Zen’in? Does he think I want to take revenge on those fuckers who abused me and the ones who witnessed it? Maybe if I didn’t have Megumi, I’d find pleasure in this. However, I can’t take that risk and do anything that could possibly fall back on my kid.

Just when I was about to close the folder and call Kong to reject this contract, something in her file grabs my attention.

Target had relations with several members of the Zen'in Family.

“What the fuck…” That’s what this is? They want to kill some broad they all slept with? So she’s definitely someone’s mistress. My guess is she’s not actually from the family and was married into, and probably slept around for money.

Maybe now they’re not giving her what she wants, she went into tampering, they found out, and now they want to wipe her out.

That’s the only thing that makes sense. Some shit Kong got me into, but still–why does he want me to take this?

Pulling out my burner phone from my locked desk draw, I speed dial Kong to get a clear answer. Because at this point, I’m tired of the vague crap.

“Fucking pick up. I know you’re not asleep…” I mutter to myself. Most likely the fucker is up and smoking cigarettes yet the line is still ringing. “You got to me kidd–”

“Oh, fuck yes.” Did this… motherfucker really answer the phone while he’s balls deep in some woman? “Fushiguro–calling so late. Did you miss me?”

“You couldn’t get your dick together before answering the phone?”

He deeply sighs followed with a chuckle. “Can’t have my lover waiting for me.”

“Cut the crap. It’s about the file. Get the girl out the room or go somewhere private you can talk,” I say firmly.

“Ah, so you’ve finally read it. You’re going to take it. Yeah?”

“Why’d you give me this shit? Who’s Chiaki Zen’in?”

I hear him light a cigarette and take a puff. “That’s not my family, Fushiguro. How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Because you gave this to me! Now I definitely feel like you’re trying to set me up.”

“Fushiguro, get your fucking head out your ass and use your brain for once. What benefit do I get for setting you up?”

I shrug. “Money.”

“Like I don’t have plenty. It actually hurts that you don’t trust me as Megumi’s godfather.” Again with the banter because I know Kong loves messing with me.

“Fuck off.”

“And plus, I value my life. You’re a crazy son of a bitch. I know my place.”

At least he knows.

He continues, “Look—I think you should take the contract. It might help you get the answers you’re looking for. You don’t have to kill the lady, but maybe she knows something about what actually happened to your wife.”

I arched my brow. “And how would she know?”

“That’s why you fucking ask, genius. If Naoya overheard them talk, there’s a possibility she could’ve as well,” he says. “If she was a mistress, then they might’ve talked around her without realizing she’s listening. Take the contract, go find her, and get answers.”

Kong does have a point.

Since that Zen’in fuck insinuated my old man had something to do with my late wife’s death, I’ve been losing sleep to do further digging, and have Kong do the same.

Asking my father or uncle directly won’t do anything because I know they’ll just lie. And quite frankly, if I ever see them again, I’d probably just beat them both to a pulp. So maybe seeing who this Chiaki Zen’in woman is would help me get the answers I need.

The convenience of this contract is that it’s due in three months—around the time I’m flying to Tokyo. What an interesting fucking trip this will be.

“Alright. I’ll take it.”

three weeks later…

“Y/N, where… are… we?”

Alright—when Y/N said to take the day off because we’re going on a date, never did I expect for her to take us to a Formula One track race. Especially to a race that I thought was fucking sold out.

And the craziness thing is—I never mentioned wanting to go, so how did she know?

Is this the fluffy shit they talk about in relationships? Remembering what your partner enjoys to make them happy? Because when it comes to Y/N, I’ll do whatever just to see that pretty smile on her face.

Just don’t expect that to happen to me, though. Simply ‘cuz I’ve never experienced it. But since I made Y/N mine a little over a month ago, she’s gotten me used to certain shit.

Dates. Skin to skin contact in bed. Fucking self care routine that involves this retinol concoction I still don’t understand but visibly see the difference it does to my face.

And to top it off, making videos together where we dress up in coordinating outfits before we go out. All of this shit is foreign to me, yet…it feels damn good.

For the first time in a while, life isn’t too bad. Me and Megs are pretty decent, and now my relationship with Y/N. . . I have nothing to complain about.

“We’re at a Formula One—” Before she got the chance to respond, I crashed my lips against her to show my fucking appreciation. Her stiff nature shows she’s shocked at my sudden kiss, but she immediately relaxes in my embrace and the moment I grip her ass.

Those soft moans always taste the sweetest when we’re out in public, and Y/N must’ve forgot I have a exhibitionism kink.

“I know where we’re at, Y/N.” I look into her eyes, hoping my own conveys how I feel at this moment. With how she’s smiling at me, I’m sure it does.

She’s so fucking pretty. Don’t think I’ll ever get over that.

“Easy, big guy. I see the look in your eyes,” she teases. “We have the whole day together.”

I kiss her cheek before grabbing her hand to walk toward the stadium. “You’re wearing that tiny ass skirt around me and expect me to behave?”

“Toji—I could be wearing a cheese suit and you’d still want to fuck me.”

I throw my head back and chuckle. “Glad you know me, sweets.”

She nods with a smile. “I do.”

“How’d you get these tickets anyways? Tried to get them myself and they fucking sold out in a minute.”

“Your girl has some connections. Meaning, I know a guy.”

I raise a brown in concern. “Hope it’s not any exes.”

“No, baby,” she says through a giggle. “One of my students' older brothers, who I happened to be acquainted with, gave me his tickets.”

“Willingly?”

“You should know how charming I could be, Mr. Fushiguro.”

I shake my head. “Trust me. I know.”

She wraps her arms around mine and leans against me. “I’m excited, TJ. I’ve never been to a Formula One race before.”

“They’re pretty cool. Just here to bet some money, though.”

“Should I be surprised?”

“Nope,” I responded with an exaggerated pop sound.

“Well, I’ll just be the pretty girlfriend who asks a thousand questions.”

Being with Y/N is starting to feel like second nature to me. Her presence is so damn addicting and I know I’ll never grow tired of it.

Almost like if I keep spending time with her, these memories I’ve been having lately will start making sense. The shit is weird, and I don’t believe in anything… but I do believe in Y/N. I believe she’s it for me. And say if we don’t work out. . . Well, I’ll keep trying until we do.

Please, don’t leave me. That voice keeps echoing in my head, and I can’t help but think it’s Y/N.

I won’t, I respond internally.

“. . . Baby, you’re okay?” A soft, concerned voice overlaps my thoughts, reminding me I’m with Y/N.

“Y-Yeah, my bad, sweets.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of zoning out lately,” she says, brows slightly dipping. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“Positive,” I lied, not wanting her to worry.

She looks like she doesn’t believe me, but decides to drop it, which I’m grateful for. “Okay,” she replies with a soft smile.

Eventually we found our seats just before the race and I find myself itching to place bets with the fuckers around me. Never can pass up an opportunity to make extra cash.

“. . . it’s round one of the Formula One season of . . .” The commentator blares throughout the stadium with intros of each racer and all the other shit they say before the race begins.

Courtesy of whoever this person gave Y/N the tickets, our seats are pretty damn good. But, of course, the best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me.

The best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. Wow, how fucking corny did that sound? I’ve been turning into an all time sap ever since I’ve seen Y/N for the first time. It’s not like I give a damn.

Told myself I want to be better for her because quite frankly, a fucker like me doesn’t deserve a girl like Y/N. And it’s not like I’m trying to convince myself of it either, but I’m known to be the Zen’in fuck up. The unlovable child. The accident. . .

Why don’t you understand that I love you?

Every time I even think for a second about all the fucked up shit my old man said to me, that familiar voice pops up in my mind.

However, I didn’t get a chance to think about it any longer.

Y/N’s plush lips were on mine, rewarding me with a kiss that brought me back to reality and rushed arousal to my cock. But still…it managed to be soft…longing…reassuring. . . The kiss put words in my mouth that felt weird for me to say.

It’s like she knew I was thinking about some shit that had me internally spiraling, though, rather than asking, she gave me a kiss that dispel any negative thoughts lingering inside of me.

“Hi, big guy.” Her voice is filled with tenderness, barely above a whisper when she looks at me with those eyes that say it’s okay.

Something I probably need to hear.

“So, how much do you usually bet on these games?” she asked, changing the topic from where my mind was.

“Depends, but Formula One races are usually filled with rich fuckers, so I bid higher.”

“. . . And this is the track we’re racing on today—fifty-eight laps. Three point two-eight miles per lap. . .”

Thirty minutes later, and the race starts. But honestly, I barely gave a damn about the race or betting since I was more invested in listening to Y/N’s commentary.

If it wasn’t her being concerned about the drivers crashing into the mountain of tires, it was her telling me how hot I’d look in the driver’s gear.

Her words. Not mine.

Whenever I was into the race, yelling at the track like a maniac because I eventually placed bets, she was right there with me—shouting like she placed bets.

Where I was serious, she took it as race shit talking.

Couldn’t believe this, but I was actually having… fun.

Fun.

Fuck, that’s another word that feels weird to say.

It’s the truth, though. And it’s all because of Y/N.

Kind of wish the kid was here with us, but I haven’t grown balls big enough to tell him I’m with his reading teacher. Seeing how my mood is with her, if I had him here, too, I knew I would be the cheesiest motherfucker in the world.

“Toji, be honest,” she starts, dragging me from my thoughts. “Do you actually ever win your bets?”

“Fuck no.” And something about my answer had Y/N bursting into a fit of laughter. “Damn, didn’t know me losing money was that funny to you.” I acted like I was offended, but she knows I wasn’t.

“Because the driver we're rooting for is losing, baby.”

I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with an underdog.”

“It is when you’re not profiting off the underdog in question,” she argues.

“Fair point.”

She sighs before standing up. “All this yelling has me needing the restroom, and I’m hungry. I’ll be right back.” She gets up, purposely stopping to where her ass levels with my face, and I know the exact shit she’s trying to pull.

“Okay, Y/N,” I simply say.

She giggles. “You want anything, babe?”

I shook my head, but pulled out cash to give to Y/N before slapping her ass, earning a yelp and pervert, from her while watching her walk away.

Definitely fucking her when we get back home.

This day couldn’t get any better. From the bullshit at work to this contract Kong finally got me to sign weeks ago, I didn’t realize how much I needed a day of me and Y/N.

Seeing how our conversations have been lately, she probably knew something was up with me, which technically, there is.

Just haven’t had the chance to tell her.

Don’t know if I will.

I mean, how exactly do I fucking bring up my family possibly had something to do with my wife’s death, and I’m taking a contract to find out more? Not happening.

Can’t have her thinking I’m full of shit and been lying to her the entire time. Can’t risk Y/N freaking out and potentially calling the cops. Can’t risk…

Losing her.

It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. Yeah, I talk down on myself and say how much I don’t deserve Y/N. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch.

Even when I know I shouldn’t have something (or in this case, someone) I’ll take it anyway. That’s just who I am.

A buzzing sound in my pocket gets on my fucking nerves and several missed calls and text messages from Kong.

And besides, I didn’t feel the damn vibration until now.

“What the…”

Here’s here. Here’s here.

I waste no time speed dialing Kong and maneuvering out the crowd to somewhere I can what the fuck is he talking about.

“Finally—”

“Speak,” I cut him off after he answered the phone. “Now.”

“I’m at the bar near the condo I’m renting and some geezer comes up to me and tells me to give you his regards,” Kong explains. “I’m wondering who the fuck is he. Then, I realized he reminds me of someone. You, Fushiguro.”

This has to be some kind of sick twisted joke.

The kind I don’t find fucking funny.

Twenty years. I have seen that bastard in over twenty years, and somehow he reappears in the city I came to start a new life in. Of all places.

The first person that comes to mind is that Zen’in brat that was adamant about having to do shit when that family, and now all of a sudden my old man is fucking here. That little shit is his eyes. I knew I couldn’t trust that motherfucker for a reason.

Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how I feel. I’m furious. My blood burns with rage and at this moment, if anyone even looks at me wrong, I’ll bash their face in picturing my old man.

You unlovable child.

Your mother should’ve aborted you.

Go in the street and die. Like I care.

You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re—

“Fushiguro!” Kong yells. “Are you fucking listening?”

No.

And it’s not like I can right now.

“Text me what you said. I have to go.” I hang up and throw my phone back in my pocket. I need to go. Now. I need to find—

“Y/N.”

Shit, my head was so far up my ass, I forgot she went to the bathroom and concession stand.

I peek over to find our empty seats, leaving me to believe Y/N hasn’t come back yet. So my next move was to rush near the restrooms, asking different women who’s coming out did they see a beautiful, dark skin woman with the additional description I gave them.

Some answered no, and others were too busy ogling like I would a fuck about their attention.

The concession stands were next, and it’s not helping that there’s damn near hundreds of them on this floor alone.

I know Y/N is fine. Probably just waiting in line to buy food. It’s just… I can’t be here right now. My lungs have grown tighter and it’s been harder to breathe since Kong told me about my old man being here.

I’m forty-two. It’s been a little over two decades. Shouldn’t be triggered by this shit anymore. I’ve forgotten. I don’t care. But that little weak boy inside of me is dripping out and reminding me that I’m still… not okay.

Maybe ‘cuz I’m worried about everything going good in my life now turning to complete shit the minute a Zen’in shows up around me. Specifically those two drunk fucks—my old man and his brother.

Y/N, where are you?

I’ve passed at least six concession stands already and still haven’t found her. Dammit, she probably got lost. I know this is her first time at a Formula One race, so she—

Don’t fuck with me.

Anger blurs my vision when I look across to see Y/N and my fucking old man—talking. Talking like they’re old friends.

My strides are long and hard while pushing through the crowd, not caring about the glares, scoffs, or complaints from the people I’m pushing out my way. All I care about is getting to Y/N and getting her the hell away from my old man.

As I close in on them, I’m able to hear their conversation.

“Are you single by chance? I have a son that you would be fantastic with,” he says.

She nervously giggles, but not in the way she usually does… she’s uncomfortable. “Oh, uhm, no. I have a boyfriend—”

“Y/N!” I shout, causing her to turn around and look at me. The moment we lock eyes, relief floods her expression, confirming my observation of her being uncomfortable.

“Toji—” I pull her behind me to level with my father and grab him by his suit collar.

Of course he’s the same coward as before because the moment I snatched him up, three fuckers dressed in black ran toward us to protect him, but he held his hand up to stop them in their tracks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. I’m itching to kill him, and had it not been for us being in public or Y/N, no questions would’ve been asked.

“My dear son. Is this how you greet your father after twenty years?” The mockery and condescending tone is his voice makes me want to rip out his fucking throat. “Also, I see you lack manners as usual. Did you not see me talking to this beautiful young woman?”

“You have shit to talk about with her.”

His brows raised in realization. “Overprotective over a woman? Is this your significant partner?”

“Y–”

“No,” I answered, cutting her off and instantly regretting it. I don’t need to look at Y/N to know confusion fills her face. “Answer my fucking question.”

“Just making friendly conversation, is all. Am I not allowed to do that?”

“I-”

“Fushiguro,” Y/N interrupts. She catches me off guard by using my last name, but I guess it’s only fair since I denied she was my girlfriend. “Let’s go.”

The silent plea in her eyes makes me wish I never allowed this piece shit to pull a reaction out of me. ‘Cuz by the looks of it, Y/N is scared… and it’s all because of me.

You’re worthless. Don’t ever come near this estate again.

These damn thoughts in my head will do everything in their power to skin me alive. I’ll just ignore them… like I always do.

Last thing I want, which she probably already does now, is to regret being mine. So I took her hand, ignored that fucker and his condescending voice, and rushed through the crowd again to get the hell out of here.

“Toji,” Y/N calls me, sounding worried. “Toji, wait. Was that your—”

“Old man.”

My fucking old man.

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#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #toji angst #jjk angst

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keouil · 25 days ago

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all the shapes my bones answer to

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

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

RYAN O'CONNELL

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

ADRIENNE RICH

沖

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

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

Nanami already regrets coming down for breakfast.

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

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

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

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

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

Well shit—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evidently, it's Gojo today.

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

Shoko was still eyeing him. "And?"

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

Shoko clicks her tongue impatiently. "And."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okinawa was amazing—" Getou starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo sputters. "We thank you—"

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

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

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

"Okinawa."

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

“Sorry!”

“Whose knee is in my shoulder?”

“...Mine.”

“Move.”

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

“I am not— ”

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

Gojo blinks. “Did something just—”

Getou hushes him. “Be quiet!”

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

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

Evidently Shoko knew that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Say what?" asks Gojo.

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

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

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

A pause.

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

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

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

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

Damn, thinks Nanami. Maybe that is our seniors.

𓇼

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

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

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

“It has,” hums Getou.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

"In a minute!" Shoko yells right back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo whistles. "Nice."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” Haibara stammers. “I-I don’t—”

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

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

𓇼

"Wait. Stop."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Haggle?" asks Gojo.

"Bargain," translates Getou.

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

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

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

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

"Satoru?" tries Getou.

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

"Yes," they both say in dry unison.

"Like seen me, seen me?"

"Yes," they both say in dry unison.

Gojo huffs. “You don’t get it.”

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

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

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

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

So they do.

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

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

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

"Think he's crying?" wonders Getou.

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

Getou makes a face. "Not always—"

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

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

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

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

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

"Japan losing the World Cup."

"You cried too."

"Because Japan lost the World Cup!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A pause.

Then:

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

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

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

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

𓇼

"Stop threatening them."

"Threatening who?" asks Gojo.

"The kids," says Shoko.

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

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

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

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

“Megumi says otherwise,” rebutts Shoko.

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

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

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

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

Gojo looks appalled. "That was one time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's time for all that later.

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…who understands his mistake immediately.

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

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

𓇼

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

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

Everything is good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

Gojo gasps, accosted. "I do not!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

𓇼

The rest of the trip goes on just fine until:

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nanami debates killing himself just to get it over with.

You just can't win with these two.

𓇼

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

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

"Forgetting something boys?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But I want to swim now."

"And you will."

"Now."

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

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

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

𓇼

Gojo tries to surf and almost drowns in the process.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing," they all said in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

“Oh my god.”

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

Gojo beats him to it.

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

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

Gojo rounds on them meanwhile. “Well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kamakura," parrots Getou back, drily.

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

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

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

Evidently Shoko was already at her breaking point too.

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

𓇼

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

"Got your water?"

"Yes."

"Bug spray?"

"Right here."

"Allergy medicine?"

"I have RCT."

"You never know—"

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

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

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

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

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

A series of collective groans follow.

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

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

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

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

"Ieiri-san is," says Haibara.

“Agreed,” says Nanami.

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do your missions for a week.”

“I don’t mind missions.”

“I’ll cook for you.”

“I’d rather starve.”

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

𓇼

Nanami is the first to fall.

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

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

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

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

"Thought you'd last longer."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nanami did, in fact, break no such thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo frowns. "I thought we were sharing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

Getou and Shoko give him a thumbs up in turn.

Then Nanami remembers, exactly, who his seniors are.

Damn.

𓇼

Getou wakes up earlier than the rest.

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

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

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

So he lets them sleep in.

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

The flight back to Tokyo is decidedly less chaotic.

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

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

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

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

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

𓇼

It’s late when they land in Haneda.

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

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

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

𓇼

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

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

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

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

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

#sashisu #tokyo five #satoshoko #sugushoko #satosugu #nanago #gojo satoru #ieiri shoko #getou suguru #nanami kento #haibara yu #jujutsu kaisen #fic

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disguisedchaos · 22 days ago

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This is the fifth of my 12 LGBTQIA+ Sims - They represent the colors in the Progress Pride Flag 🏳️‍🌈🤎🖤🩵🩷🤍💛💜

TRIGGER WARNING: I mention Su*c*de!

This is Blake. She was born in Okinawa and spent the first few years there. Blake is the result of a short-lived romance her mother had with an American soldier (who's half polish). After he went back to Seattle, he sent a package that contained a short apology with a name suggestion, a few toys for Blake, and a check for 700 US Dollars. Blake was four years old when her mother couldn't deal with the work-related stress and the responsibilities of being a single parent anymore. They traveled to Kyōto where Blake met her grandparents. Her mother left without her and committed suicide just 10 months later. Blake's grandparents tried their best to give her a childhood filled with happiness and laughter. And they succeeded. But a few months ago, her grandmother was diagnosed with cancer and is now unable to work at the family owned restaurant. Blake decided to help out and is now trying to turn the restaurant into a more popular place with a social media presence. She already organized some well received events. Blake thankfully has the full support of her grandfather and her uncle.

A big thanks to all the cc-creators! You made this possible! If someone sees their stuff and I forgot to tag them .. let me know :) Also, let me know about grammatical errors because english is not my first language 😅

@serenity-cc @aharris00britney @caio-cc @joliebean @twisted-cat @pralinesims @jius-sims @sentate @helgatisha @goppolsme @kijiko-sims @okruee @obscurus-sims @lamatisse @aladdin-the-simmer @giuliettasims @joshseoh @birba32 @solstice-sims @powluna @wisteriasimss4 @suzuesims @kikuruacchi @eunosims @keirosims @enriques4 @daylifesims @sagittariahx @simcelebrity00 @rustys-cc @moonmoonsim @sims3melancholic @reevaly @izziemcfiresims-blog @christopher067 @oakiyo @dissiasims @arethabee @ice-creamforbreakfast @crypticsim @cosimetics-cc @mortanko-sims @ellone-andreea @msqsimsofficial @remussirion @glitterberrysims @thepeachyfaerie @idsims @valley-tulya @bobur-tsr / on TSR: MURPHY, Seleng, ZENX, Fly Stone, Arltos, Anonimux, S-Club, Izzie McFire / also: Wightspider

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nevermeyers · 2 years ago

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All CB4 character info

» info could be updated or corrected in the future

More info!

Takeomi

Failure story: I was their father figure. My father was busy because we are a motherless family. I was strict with Haruchiyo because he's a man. He cut my face with a knife one day and left the house. He's a hell of a fucking brother. I vowed that one day I would let Senju punish him.

Favorite place: the first black dragon hideout

Wakasa

Failure story: I drank until morning in Shinjuku, lost my memory, and found myself sleeping on the yellow Braille blocks at Hachioji station, trying not to stick out from the top of the blocks.

A day on his life: I had a one-week holiday, so I went on a quick trolling trip to Okinawa.

I wanted to enjoy fishing alone, but Takeomi and Benkei came along. The aim this time was yellowfin tuna. Takeomi got tired of not being able to catch anything after 3 hours on the boat and said he wanted to go home, while Benkei was seasick and exhausted. I knew I shouldn't have brought them along.

Senju

Failure story: I found a girl being bullied by a kid in the park, so I kicked him from behind and saved her. But they were Baji and Emma just practicing karate. Sorry about that time, Baji.

Favorite place: amusement park

Kisaki

A day on his life: Hanma came to visit me with Momotetsu (game) and said, "I wanna go around Japan." We bought some snacks and juice at a convenience store and started playing it. He was so annoying that he kept putting King Bomby on me. After playing for a while, "Hey, Hanma. Momotetsu is boring with just the two of us. Call someone here.”

"How dull, you should call someone, I don't have any friends.”

“I don’t too, idiot!”

"I’m starting to cry."

Benkei

Failure story: Whenever I go out for a drink with Waka after a workout at the gym, Senju always comes along. She and I always start arguing about who is stronger, Inoki or Baba. when Waka gets drunk, he imitates Tiger Jet Singh by using a skewer as a saber. I really hate him at this point.

A day on his life: The gym is closed today. Takeomi persistently invited me out for a drink. I usually don’t go, but we went to an izakaya together. His drinking is long. At first it's fun, but as we get deeper into it, he starts to brag.

He talks about the Brahman Senju created as if he created it. He has always been like that. I remember he used to brag about Shinichiro's achievements as if he himself had done them. Shinichiro liked him including such a bad part of him.

Favorite place: gojo gym

South

Failure story: When I beat Kakucho, his heart was empty. I wanted to fight him when he was called brawler

Ranking of people I felt strong in fights

1. Sano Manjiro(no doubt)

2. Draken

3. Kakucho

4. Senju

I wanna play(fight) with Izana and Taiju!

Favorite place: tokyo when it's snowing

source

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers character book #@meyers #senju akashi #akashi takeomi #akashi siblings #benkei #arashi keizo #imaushi wakasa #south terrano #brahman

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cherrylng · 1 month ago

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Muse interview - Matt Bellamy [INROCK (September 2002)]

MUSE FUJI ROCK FESTIVAL'02 7.26 FRI/GREEN STAGE

Matthew Bellamy / Muse INTERVIEW

"When you love someone, you can relax."

INTERVIEW: YUKO KATO PHOTOS BY MIHO KATO

Just an hour after the show, the members had finished their catered dinner and were doing TV interviews one after the other in high spirits. Matthew, who was sent to us last because we were taking the most time, looked extremely happy and excited from start to finish. "Our prince is very happy today," said the person in charge. However, I don't think I've ever seen him in a bad mood.

Today's show was amazing. Matthew Bellamy (vo./g.): Really? But I made a pretty big mistake at the beginning. It's the first song I played today, a piano piece [1]. The ending was supposed to end nicely, but we forgot about it… I also played a cover of "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" for the first time at the show today. Once we got over the mountain of new songs, I think we had a pretty exciting show until the end.

About that cover song (laughs), I was surprised by the unexpected choice. Matthew: In the UK we do it almost as a joke. That song was originally our tour manager's favourite, and it's a popular song in the UK. n the UK, there's a new TV show called "We Covered," where bands play cover songs one by one, and when we appeared on the show, we chose that song. We later put it on the B-side of a single. They said we should play it this time, and we hadn't done it for a while, so maybe our performance was a little bit lax, but we gave it a go.

How was Karuizawa by the way? Matthew: Is that the name of the place I went to before I came here? It was cool. I stayed at a Japanese-style inn with an onsen… I also tried golf for the first time. I was pretty bad at it (laughs).

You come from Teignmouth, which is famous for golf [2], and you've never played golf! Matthew: Yeah, I know. But this was my first time, and every time I hit it (over-actively), I just scattered dirt all over the place (laughs). There was a lot of sports equipment, like tennis and table tennis, so I worked on my fitness a lot. When you're on tour, you want to do as many things as possible, don't you? You want to stay healthy.

You were planning to bring your family and girlfriend? Matthew: That was the plan. It didn't happen because of all the travel arrangements. Me and Chris (Wolstenholme, b.) each wanted to bring our girlfriends to Okinawa. But we couldn't get a hotel! So next time we want to come about a week before and relax in Okinawa. Next time I'll have to prepare well in advance. My girlfriend is Italian, so last week she and I went to Italy to meet her parents.

I hear your new single "Dead Star" reached number 8 in the UK charts. Congratulations! And look at this. I'm surprised Muse is even in Smash Hits magazine. Matthew: I remember doing the interview. You think it's surprising that a band like us is in a magazine for young kids? (amused) I think in the last few years rock has been reaching kids who listen to pop and boy groups without soul. I try not to overdo the interviews with this kind of stuff (Smash Hits magazine). The reason I did that interview is because I want those readers to listen to different kinds of music, especially alternative music as well.

So, according to that article, the mayor of Teignmouth ran an anti-Muse campaign? Matthew: It's funny, we said a few things about Teignmouth that were a bit unnecessary. It's a very small town, and like any small town, people get frustrated and do violent things at night, or do drugs to vent their frustrations. When I told the press that Teignmouth was like that, the mayor was very disappointed and used a picture of our album in a bin on the cover of the local Herald Express or something.

(laughs). When was that? Matthew: A long time ago. Around the time "Showbiz" was released.

Did you talk to the mayor after that? Muse isn't a band that everyone knows anymore. Everyone should all be proud of Muse. Matthew: (laughs). I think all the citizens are proud of us now. At the same time, some people are jealous that guys from small towns have become so successful, so you have to be careful going back to your home town. I live in London now, so it's fine.

"I'm going to write the next album in an environment where I have my family and my girlfriend around. Inevitably, the songs will be personal."

I thought you lived in Brighton? Matthew: I did live in Brighton, but only for six months, then I moved out. From January to June. July, that's July now, yeah, I moved to London recently. Dom (Dominic Howard ds.) and Tom (best friend) moved to London last week. We've got another place in London, like a rehearsal room. It's a great place…

Did you buy it? Matthew: No, no, not at all! We just rent it (laughs). It's a very strange place, it's usually a chemical factory with pipes and stuff sticking out of it. It's got bedrooms, so Chris can sleep in there, and we rehearse together. We always have to do interviews and stuff in London anyway, don't we? So I'm thinking of living in London for now, until after the next album.

When I spoke to you last year, you told me that you were thinking of buying a house in the countryside and moving in together. Matthew: Come to think of it, we didn't buy one. Instead we rented a big house that used to belong to Winston Churchill. It's a classic quaint place, perfect for us because we love ghosts and stuff. We lived there for six months and did about eight songs on the next album there. I realised that it was better for the band if things kept changing.

You don't want to stay in one place? Matthew: Maybe. We're thinking of settling in London at the moment, but that changes every few years, so you never know. Maybe in the future I'll be living in America. We wrote all the songs on "Origin of Symmetry" on tour or while travelling, but I think we'll do it differently next time. I'm going to try to write the next album in the presence of my family and my girlfriend. Inevitably the songs will be more personal.

I hear people want the new album to be released in March of next year! Matthew: Well… The recording itself could be finished by the end of the year, but we have to take America into account… Because System Of A Down have invited us to tour the US with them. That would take up a lot of my time, but I'm still on the fence about it because it's such a good offer. If we accept the offer, we won't be able to record until February or March next year… If we don't tour the US, we could record by the end of the year and have it out by next summer.

Is America still a fascinating country for you? Matthew: It's a huge country. It's strange and the culture is completely different.

Do you think you guys would be accepted? Matthew: I don't know. The problem in America is that they only accept people who play on the radio, and if you want to be played on the radio, you have to sign with a very corporate, capitalist, global record company. But we're signed to individual labels in every country, aren't we? Right now, in the US, we're thinking of leaving Maverick and releasing on System of a Down's label. That's one of the reasons why they've invited us. It's very difficult to get into America and still be independent… There's a lot of money involved in releasing an album in the States and getting it played on the radio, isn't there? That would require a big record deal, which would cost us the contracts we have in each country… I'm really scared that the big American labels will get involved in the Japanese and European regions and decide everything on their own. That's why I'm wondering if we can do something with System of a Down's label, while protecting our own position.

You seem to have a good handle on the management side of things. Are you a control freak? Matthew: (laughs). Yeah, I guess so. I think it's not that I want to feel like I'm in control, I just want to know what's going on in my life. Not just in music, but in real life, it's better to know the cause and effect of things, isn't it? But it's impossible to know everything. I never had a manager.

Why don't you hire a professional who knows the ins and outs? That's your personality too (laughs). Matthew: No, no, that's not it. I think if we eventually set up an office in London and hired a couple of people there to do the accounting and stuff like that, things would be a lot different.

By the way, Kerrang! magazine said you were so ill you couldn't drink water for eight days. What happened? Matthew: (chuckles in amusement) That was exaggerated. And that was a long time ago, when I was on tour for the first time. I wasn't sick. I'm not a water drinker by nature, but on tour you have to hydrate more than usual, don't you? I was on tour in the States at the time, and I wasn't drinking as much water as I normally do, so I was getting dizzy. I didn't realise I was dehydrated until the doctor told me I had to drink six litres every day. Until then, I drank at most one cup of tea a day, plus a little alcohol. Alcohol is counterproductive, I was told. "Micro Cuts" is about that. I was in a lift somewhere in the US when a complete stranger suddenly said to me, "Hey, are you okay? Maybe you should see a doctor?" I did have a terrible migraine-like headache that hurt like I was being stabbed. It's a classic sign of dehydration. It went away when I started drinking more water.

How much are you drinking now? Matthew: (pointing to a 500ml bottle) About this much. But I'm sure that's still not enough.

Matthew, are you the type of person who finds it difficult to relax? Matthew: I don't know. I'm in a very serious relationship with my current girlfriend. I've known her for about six months to a year now, and since we started dating, I've changed a lot. Thanks to her, I can forget about everything. I can relax a lot when I'm with her. Before that, I couldn't relax at all when I went home alone, and I was always in a hurry to do something! When you love someone, you can relax (laughs shyly).

(laughs). That's nice. Is she the "most beautiful person in the world" you mentioned before? Matthew: Maybe (laughs).

Around the time you recorded your second album, you broke up with someone you'd been with for six years. It was a very painful experience and it seems like those feelings are reflected in the album, but you say you learnt a lot from that time. You say you've started to think about the quality of your friendship with Dom and Chris, how about now? What's your relationship like with them now that you've had that experience? Matthew: Up until around the time of "Showbiz", I was pretty distant from the band. But after I broke up with her, I realised how much I appreciated the band. I think I would have been too lonely without the band. Because I had the band, I was able to get more into music and distract myself. Especially writing songs, the rewards are so great, aren't they? I became addicted to it. At the same time, I realised how close I was with the two of them. After all, they're my best friends.

But you don't have a serious girlfriend now, do you? Doesn't that affect your friendship with them? Matthew: I don't know. Chris has kids and we've grown up. The music is absolute for us now, and we're confident that we'll be doing it for the rest of our lives. We were unstable before the first and second albums, but now we feel very secure in the music, in the band, and in the band members.

What's your third album going to be like? "Origin of Symmetry" was a success, but it was an album heavily influenced by classical music, wasn't it? Or rather, you say it was too influenced? Matthew: Was it (laughs)? My emotions change every day…

But I hope you don't change your music or direction too much. Because I like you guys a lot right now. Matthew: If there's anything I can say about the direction now, there are two directions we're going in, one is a techno-metal heavy rock sound, like the fast stuff by Nine Inch Nails. You could say it's a bit like punk rock. A sound with a digital hardness. The other sound is quite the opposite, influenced by classical music, especially soft classical music.

What composers, for example, are your influences? Matthew: Liszt. Debussy. I've recently started listening to Beethoven, and I like Rachmaninoff a lot. I'm listening to particularly soft, deep, and dark classical music at the moment. I'm also listening to opera, like Carmen. I also like slow, not to say heavy, big, epic, melodic classical music, which is a great contrast to fast-paced music. It's too early to say how we'll be able to put that into one piece. Those are the two things I can say for now.

According to Kerrang! magazine, you take magic mushrooms once or twice a year. Why do you have to take them? Matthew: It's not that I have to eat them. But they're not very strong, they made me laugh a bit, but they didn't do much for me. I did it twice last year. And that time it was extreme, I did it for two or three days straight. It's interesting, isn't it? It was a trio of me, Dom, and Tom. Chris was there too, but he didn't do it, he just had a few drinks. We were the only ones in the park in Amsterdam at the time and it was like a mental experiment, so to speak. An experiment to see how much you can accept your subconscious. I mean, when you do hallucinogenic drugs, you start to hallucinate parts of your subconscious that you are not normally aware of. It's interesting because it helps you get to know yourself better. I don't recommend it to anyone, and if you do it, you should do it in a safe environment with a very close group of people you trust.

Are mushrooms a type of drug? Matthew: Yes, they are natural. In Dartmoor, Devon, they grow mushrooms naturally and harvest them twice a year. So it's very familiar where we're from and it's culturally inseparable. Everyone has had experience with it, and we make tea from it. It's similar in Wales. They say that mushrooms are quite popular in places where there's not a lot of nightlife (laughs). It's a natural thing, so when you do it, you develop a love for nature. I've never done any artificial drugs.

When we spoke a couple of years ago, you told me that your mother was a medium. You also told me that you had some strange experiences yourself. But recently you have stopped believing in such spiritual things. Why is that? Matthew: I still believe in them sometimes. I do believe that it is possible to make contact with the memories of dead people. Sometimes that contact is through someone's subconscious, but I no longer think that it is necessarily contacting the dead person themselves. I think that you can contact memories, but I don't think you can talk to someone from another world. If you get in a group and look up at the sky and ask "Is there anyone there?", I think it will help your subconscious come out and expand your imagination. We don't realise how many people we have close contact with in our lives, our parents, aunts and uncles, family… If you were close to your parents, you must have been close to your parents' parents, and you must have had a lot of relatives. In that case, your family relationships will spread out widely. Is it the same principle as "Being John Malkovich"? Or maybe my way of thinking changed after seeing that film. Maybe when memories are connected, a new person is born.

Have you ever seen ghosts? Matthew: I see all sorts of things.

But you don't believe in them? Matthew: When I say I've seen them, I'm sure it's just my subconscious. Do you believe in ghosts?

Yes, I do. I'm surrounded by a lot of people who say they see them. Matthew: Hmm. I have to admit that sometimes I'm scared of them, and sometimes I'm not. But sometimes when I see them, I try to think that there's something deep inside me that I'm not aware of. If something terrible happens, I sometimes wonder if it's a horrible memory from the past that the person has erased, or an event from the past that they didn't realise was happening. My girlfriend is studying psychology. So what I'm talking about is actually something she told me.

You're too logical to talk about that kind of spirituality, don't you think? Matthew: (laughs). Logical? Maybe. I'm interested in the uncharted territory and mysteries of humanity too.

Recorded on 26th July in Naeba.

Translator’s Note: [1] The piano piece that Matt mentioned that he messed up on was “Apocalypse Please”. You can listen to the messed up piano piece and the whole live show here.

[2] I’ve checked on Google, and what do you know, Teignmouth does have an impressive 18-hole golf course that has been there since 1924.

The editor referring Tom Kirk as their best friend in the brackets is a pretty sweet gesture.

Please do support me with my ko-fi! ☕

#Matt Bellamy #Muse #Muse band #Origin of Symmetry era #smol meerkat #my scan #translation #interview #INROCK #INROCK September 2002

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dadvans · 8 months ago

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missing language.

if livejournal posts were still real. this would be it.

i started learning japanese when i was 11 years old, around early summer 2000, from my aunt from okinawa. she would practice with me in the gazebo when she and my uncle would come to visit for family reunions in the midwest, and would continue to buy me tapes, movies, CDs to start learning the language.

my school district was one of the lowest in the country growing up. we had a prestigious japanese immersion charter school, and after a disastrous middle school year, i ended up applying and being accepted. grades four to twelve. each year we were in different (sometimes abandoned or condemned) buildings up until halfway through my freshman year. despite occupying abandoned churches and gymnasiums, we had the highest test scores, and most exclusive college acceptance rates in oregon. it was either that good or that bad. we all hated each other the way family hates each other.

i won my division three years running for the oregon japanese speech contest through my ninth grade year.

i moved to japan two days after my sixteenth birthday. the year and a half that followed was not easy. i had a host family for a period of time that constantly kicked me out, starved me, and found other families for me to live with. i had another family where the host dad tried to molest me twice by taking me to remote locations. when i became fluent, really fluent, around the 6 to 8 month mark (long after i passed the JLPT 3 at the time, which is now closer to JLPT 2), after months of isolating myself in the computers at class to speak english to abroad friends for an hour a day, i told my japanese school friends, and they were horrified. they stepped up in ways i never knew. it wasn't usual for someone to be so forthcoming, and yet they all recognized it as an extreme circumstance, invited me into their inner circle. my home room teachers took notice and would take me out for lunch. my host family situation was codename ONI BABA, and even another family that eventually took me in would refer to her as such, when i asked if i could borrow her koto for a public concert (yeah, the one instrument it turns out i'm a prodigy at is okoto. Played my first concert at a local Obon festival within a week of starting. Talk to me about how Hana Kage is a fucking bitch. this version of 回転木馬 was what i was performing after a year. if you can find my old livejournal account, i guarantee there is a really terrible version recorded on my motorola razr still live).

by the time i was seventeen i was allowed to be on payroll to act as a translator for a month-long "jan-term" project with my mom in japan, where we took about 13 students across the main land. back at my american school i was writing all my essays in japanese, in the style i had been taught in japan (it was WILD to relearn how to rewrite english essays when living abroad-- that shit does NOT translate sometimes).

i went to college. i was immediately accepted into the higher ed programs my school provided. they were working toward offering a major, but only had a minor present. i signed on for level 300 with 8 other students.

the professor hated me. that is the nicest word for it. she would have typos on her quizzes. she would make fun of my hokkaido accent. but the worst part was when i was sexually assaulted by one of the other 8 students in the class, went to her during office hours to request that she not pair me with that student out of fear, and then she proceeded to exclusively pair me with that student on projects.

i was also learning i had a learning disability, but the student union health center refused to directly prescribe me medication for my disability, or refer my outwards--what happened instead was i was put on a prescription that had not been recommended outside of extreme epilepsy (carbamezapine), and when i expressed my fear that it was resurfacing suicidal tendencies, the doctor in charge doubled the dosage and encourage me to kill myself.

it was an ordeal. it was an ordeal that i documented. it was an ordeal that by spring 2008, i was accused of cheating on a test i got less than 30% on because i was so fucking out of it by a woman who would only partner me with a man who had sexually abused me. and when i confronted her about it on tape, with a medical transcript of what i had endured for the past year, i have a recording of her saying, "I don't need a piece of paper to tell me that you have problems."

Anyway, she went on sabbatical to adopt a kid the next year. Idiot sex pest remained in my classes, but god, he really sucked. I had to leave through most of my 400-level classes because I was working a lot. Most of my classes were essentially unpaid labor where we were translating books and providing subtitles for movies that were ready for American distribution. Half of my classmates my second year were born in Japan and spoke Japanese better than English but were able to cop out a foreign language credit, and they were honestly my favorite friends in the class, even if that's a steep fucking grading curve. Asshole teacher appeared once my spring semester, but knowing she took the year off, I actually completed my minor degree my sophomore year in early 2009.

And then I never really spoke Japanese again.

And it's hard. Whenever I'm introduced to media, I'm like, god, I forgot that. I remember that. I knew that, once upon a time. I remember conversations in English that weren't in English. And I remember when I was in my senior year of High School, I would be speaking Japanese and forget that I was speaking Japanese, that sometimes no one else except my teacher or friend who were equally fluent understood too. I miss that feeling. I feel shame, sometimes, at letting it go. I know I still have the pronunciation and local dialect, but it's hard to be reminded of how much I forgot.

When I started learning first, very close to when I was still fluent, Indonesian, and more recently, French, my backup language in my head has always been Japanese instead of English. My wife used to tell me I had a Japanese accent when I would try to speak French (fun fact: one of my friends in Japan was learning French and spoke zero English, and only then did I understand the horror of French phonetics), and it took me literally over a month of quietly practicing my R's in my car when I would get home from work for her to be like, oh you sound like a regular Anglo (read: white boy trying so hard and yet).

Whenever I get back into the mindset of becoming fluent in French (mandatory!), and restart the journey from where I left off these past years, I ache something fierce and weird for my Japanese. It is, surface level, a sense of failure. I couldn't hold onto you, I wouldn't have known how to try. There were obstacles. There were so many bad memories. And yet, sometimes I will be in bed with my wife, and she will be watching a Japanese show, and I will be like, "Did he really say that?" and she will say, "Oh God, I forgot that you knew Japanese."

Some things are bone deep and will probably never go away. I guess I'm still in mourning for the language that I lost as I continue to learn a new language. I want to be better, I know I can be better this time! And yet, I'm afraid that every step forward, I'll lose what I have of my second language identity. I have already lost so much.

#misc.#personal #all sketches wish to be real

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bonsai-babies · 1 month ago

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Samantha LaRusso Academic Future (1/2)

This is based on my headcanons and interpretation. We have barely anything from canon and I'm upset with the way they're handling it. Sam is acting way too calm, way too detached. This is how I imagine things. My fic, if you will.

In her senior year, Sam's messy High School history is catching up with her. She's suddenly highly aware of the damage to her records and feels upset with herself. At first, she's just angry, but the more it lingers, her concerns create deeper roots, pushing that anger into rebellious guilt and then finally into resentful disappointment. Before it all started she was a good student, with impressive grades, academic aspirations. Now she's scared she won't even be accepted at UCLA.

Sam isn't sure she wants to go to UCLA. Her parents want her around for her to inherit the shop. Sam is fine staying close to her parents. Though it used to bother her, she'd become more understanding of their reasons and of her comfortable situation. Having parents to feed and clean for her while studying would be an enormous help, depending on what she wanted to tackle, that might be essential, so she made her peace with it.

The dealership is something else altogether, she doesn't want it. She can't see herself as a businesswoman, she doubts she has the type of thick skin or the social and political cleverness to endure that. Or perhaps she just couldn't care less. Anthony wouldn't want the shop either and that would be a problem for the family in the future, but Sam disagrees she should sacrifice herself for it. The shop would be fine, with or without a LaRusso leading it.

She hasn't revealed that to her parents yet, mainly because she hasn't come up with good enough reasons or options she's truly willing to tackle. There has been so much karate in her life, that karate became everything that could be in her life.

It's almost surreal to face a future in which karate becomes a simple hobby, her brain tries and tries, but it can't make out what's beyond the fog. Miyagi Do and Cobra Kai are always there, like an obsessive thought scorched on her mind. She needs time to carve it out of her. Clean the slate.

She decides to take time away from everything. Allowing herself to be so far from where she was that it would show her the bigger picture and the rest of the world around.

She researches living in Japan before breaking the news to her parents. She found a position for beach cleaning and some pretty nice small houses she could rent. She then tells her parents who are surprised if not a bit worried by her desire to "run away". They need some days before agreeing to let her go with the condition she's staying with Kumiko and will obey her every advice.

Sam is more than excited with the idea and agrees immediately.

When school ends she leaves for Okinawa, gets received by Kumiko who helps her to settle in. The house isn't big, but it is close to the beach and is cozy. There's an old lady living there too, the woman is a bit wary of the foreigner girl but slowly warms to her. Sam helps around and follows Kumiko to almost all errands when she's out of work.

The drastic change in pace hits Sam hard. She's exhausted and joyful. Then she gets into rhythm and becomes calm and peaceful. She gets to research other careers, discuss with other local teenagers their own ideas and plans, attend career fairs and talk to her friends who went directly to College about their perspective.

She returns to the US after exactly one year with a decision and peace of mind.

#cobra kai #sam larusso #samantha larusso #cobra kai headcanons #I'll follow up with her college #i want more about her #so tired of knowing too little about sam #if canon won't do it i will #daniel larusso

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ancientgreekyuri · 5 months ago

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Okay here's my enstars oc. Idk what happened with my style here. And no I've never played the game 💔 his name is Rakeem Allagoa-Kozakura and he's mixed (Black + Indigenous Hawaiian and Okinawan). He spent the first few years of his life in Hawaii but his family later moved to Texas. His father is a pastor and Rakeem was a member of the church choir. Every summer he would travel to visit his extended family in Okinawa and due to that he's well versed in eisa dance and traditional Okinawan music. Some of his family practices traditional religion and so despite growing up in a Christian home he has a deep interest in the topic. He's 26 years old but keeps getting mistaken for 19. He went to college to study Christian religion in medieval cultures and minored in classics focusing on Arthurian literature (self indulgence for ME). I don't know how he ended up at idol school surrounded by a bunch of teens 😔 he tries to avoid being overly Indulgent but he secretly loves a good alcoholic beverage. He's an extremely normal person. He doesn't know what's going on around him 💔 help him

#🏺 lacunae #hope's ocs #I hope everyone loves him forever

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deke-rivers-1957 · 8 months ago

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Walter Gulick's Rank

Disclaimer: For my tier list I’m basing this off of a one on one fight with no weapons and no outside interference. If a character has to rely on a weapon they’re ranked lower. If a character has to fight more than one person at a time, I’d look at it on a case by case basis. Age, size and general background are factors that will be taken into consideration. Since a lot of those details are going to be up to interpretation as these are characters and not real people, feel free to share your own thoughts.

Kid Galahad takes place in the early 1960s. The cars on the road that pass Walter's Model T look modern. Like the filmmakers had Elvis drive that in real traffic. We can also assume that given how dusty the Model T and that 1921 boxing poster looked, it's been a couple decades since it was so much as looked at. We only know that before being a boxer, Walter was in the Army who had boxing "experience" but really specialized as a mechanic in Okinawa. Both of those occupations are ones where it would definitely be easier the more in shape you are.

Walter is one of the only Elvis characters that we have any idea on when they were born. We know that his parents died when he was 14 months old and that he was baptized in Cream Valley on August 14th, 1939. Since we know he was sent to live with his family in Kentucky he had to have been baptized while his parents were still alive. Given that most Catholics baptize their children at a super young age we can assume Walter was born in either 1938 or 1939. That would make Walter interestingly younger than Elvis as he'd be between 22-23 years old.

In his first fight, Walter is going up against a professional. Joey is meant to be the best boxer in Willy's camp. Even in a practice match, Joey takes it seriously. Walter however, has no concept of blocking or proper technique. He does however, manage to withstand numerous blows to the face without even falling over. Even with boxing gloves, a blow to the head can knock you out. Being able to handle all of those blows without missing a beat, and managing to knock an opponent out with one punch is impressive. Joey himself admits that he's never had anyone hit him as hard as Walter did.

There was an offscreen confrontation that ended with Walter knocking one of Otto's lackeys out. Given that he was found with a gun on him, Walter does get additional points for managing to beat an opponent who possessed a weapon.

In his first professional fight, we see the first and only time Walter falls over. It seemed to be because of the angle and force of a particular blow. To most people that would've knocked them out. For Walter, he got back up and waved it off as "losing his balance." Once he managed to get a blow in, it was all over. Walter wins his first official match.

We then get a montage of numerous fights. Assuming Walter can only get better as he trains, he manages to win each one. It's only worth to mention because these are all professional fights that Walter has won. A larger sample size only helps a character's case if they manage to win all of them.

This is the fight that takes the off screen confrontation and shows you how it would've gone down if Otto's lackey did pull out his gun. Walter knocked out the first one in one punch. The second one had a gun and we see Walter disarm him then knock him out. This is all in the span of not even 30 seconds. The raw power of hitting someone with his bare fist is enough to knock them out. The offensive ability in this scene is simply unlike anything we've seen in an Elvis movie.

This final fight is the most important fight. It shows how much Walter has improved in a matter of months. After all he wins a bunch of fights before it's even the 4th of July. Labor Day is only 2 months after that so Walter only had two months or so to officially train for this. The match went into its 4th round, by far the longest fight shown in the movie. Each round lasts 3 minutes long non-stop. While Walter still takes more blows to the face than he really should, his blocking ability has improved. His reactions have gotten quicker as well. At some point during the 4th round, Walter knocks out Sugar Boy, winning the match. He would retire from boxing, remaining undefeated.

I have never felt more conflicted about how to judge someone's fighting ability until now. Based on wins, Walter's undefeated and that carries a lot of weight. The one thing I seriously question is how realistic it is for him to never get knocked out despite numerous blows to the head. Yes that's the point of boxing, but the average boxer also blocks a lot more than Walter does. Is something like even possible in real life? I feel like if it is it'd be extremely rare and I suppose would be an advantage so long as Walter isn't doing this for multiple years.

Despite his questionable technique, Walter fought against legitimate opponents and won every single fight. And that's what this whole series is about: finding the best fighter. Therefore I put Walter in S tier. He's definitely in the top 5, I can at least say that. I just think it's still too early to crown him as the best fighter since we're barely a third of the way through the list of Elvis characters.

AN: Thanks so much to @arrolyn1114 for providing your analysis on these fights scenes. Also shout out to @thedaisymaisy, @moonchild-daniella, @xanatenshi, and @karel-in-wonderland for watching this movie with me. In some cases multiple times lol.

#walter gulick #elvis fandom #kung fu elvis tidbit #kid galahad #elvis tier list #elvis presley

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usafphantom2 · 2 months ago

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A huge black-and-white picture of an RC-135U hung on my bedroom wall (no, I didn’t have THE Farah poster). Robert Hopkins lll (Air Force brat later RC-135 Pilot.)

He moved from Beale Air Force Base to Offuff AFB in Nebraska. As a child Robert had to move often, which was normal he went from living at the home of the SR 71 to living at the home base of the majority of the RC-135 fleet, I saw these jets every day while volunteering at the SAC Museum at the end of the closed runway. I had an inkling of what they did, and my early exposure to British aviation magazines led me to appreciate the mystique they possessed when visiting RAF Mildenhall in England.~ Robert Hopkins in Hush-kit interview.

I’ve had the privilege over the last few years of getting to know Robert he volunteered to edit my father, Butch Sheffield‘s book. Unfortunately, He had to quit editing Dad’s book because another matter came up. I will admit that I did not know how privileged my family was to have him volunteer at first.He is an aviation author of the first degree very much admired by many. Although we lived just a five-minute walk away from each other during the time I lived at Beale Air Force Base, as a kid I didn’t know him. Robert was one year younger than me his best friend was Jamie Kraus, son of an RSO. He understands the competition, mostly friendly that I found between the RC 135 and the SR-71. Robert is a fan of the SR 71 but his heart belongs to the RC 135. He grew up and became a pilot of the RC 135 just like his father was.

I had heard about the U-2 versus the SR-71, competition but this story was new to me.

The SR 71 brought out competition between SR-71 crewmembers and the RC-135 also. I read about this story in Rich Graham‘s Book “Flying the SR 71 Blackbird “

The mobile crew of an SR-71 went to the Kadena Airbase, Okinawa, “O” Club to eat a quick lunch. (The mobile crew is the back or Buddy crew. It would consist of a pilot and an RSO of the SR-71 they were expected back to the flight line when the SR71 came back from the flight. In the officer club parking lot, the RC 135 crew noticed the locked car had a top-secret kit bag that they could see while peering into the back window.

They called the security police to report them!!

Being able to see this top-secret kit bag It’s a big no-no, Rich Graham explained So the SR-71 crew went back to their squadron and plotted their revenge.

The revenge was they made stencils of an RC 135 then went “stealthy” into the night with spray paint and stencils in hand, a group of SR-71 men spray painted the stencils, of the RC 135 everywhere they could, signs, polls, and buildings.

At first, the RC squadron was proud, thinking that it was one of them who had done the stenciling until that squadron was ordered to clean up the mess that the SR-71 squadron had made! Normally, what would happen is the RC 135 squadron would be the ones stenciling the silhouette of their airplane on SR 71 property. But this time it was the SR 71 guys that were doing the stenciling. I think they got off easy. Haha

This kind of practical joke would not be tolerated in today’s Air Force. I have been told this.

What is it about the SR 71 that used to drive so many people to compete with them?

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

#RC-135 #boeing aviation #reconnaissance #aircraft #usaf #aviation #cold war aircraft

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jimmychoo-dell · 10 months ago

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I got this idea long ago (that I will never put on a fic obvi :)).

After the all Valley, Johnny actually properly apologised to Daniel and they became close friends. When they graduated, they were still meeting up (Okinawa trip forgotten-). Christmas was around the corner and Daniel was insisting for Johnny to come with them (his ma and himself) to new Jersey so they can spend it together with his family, and Johnny could actually have a REAL Christmas with a REAL winter.

Daniel:" you never saw real snow?!"

Johnny:" So what?....I've never travel out of California if it wasn't for one of Sid stupid expensive trip to Greece or France....{which mom insisted to bring me along.}"

He finally accepted to go with him and went to new Jersey. Johnny got spoiled by compliments from pratically every members of Larusso family (except Louis who was jealous of him because he was a big blond pretty boy so he didn't stop to teasing him by saying that he was gay for Daniel.....whish was not totally wrong-)

The person who was always with Johnny was actually Daniel's nonna. (Daniel got a lot to do to help the family around, eapecially in kitchen) She always make sure that he eat properly. (too much- really too much.

Daniel:" your cheeks became more round"* found it cute-*

Johnny:" Nonna don't want me to starve."

Daniel:" you call her Nonna now?"

Johnny:" she wanted me to, who am I to say no to a lady?")

The funny part is that nonna forgot all the time that Johnny doesn't know a word in italian. She usually sat on the couch with him and had her best conversation with a confused Johnny who keeps nodding to don't looks like an idiot or someone impolite.

Nonna: (talk in italian)" this boy is adorable, he always listen to me and got time to take care of me"

Lucille: (talk in italian)" oh really....*have noticed that she talks 100% in italian with him* {poor boy}"

And last think, Johnny, Daniel and Nonna went for a walk every morning. Johnny let Nonna holding on his arm and Daniel walking on Johnny other side. He sometimes slip and get caught by a strong built arm.

Daniel: "I didn't needed your help. I wasn't about to fall. *was about to fall*"

Johnny:" sure Daniel, welcome to save your little ass *wink, still holding him in case* {He is so tiny..}"

Daniel:"*blushe a little, pulls himself away and huff* whatever you say blondy"

Nonna: "*is looking at the sunrise*"

//I am really sorry for my grammatical faults. I'm still learning how to write properly in English :') (not like I was a head in french-) if someone could help me to correct myself I would take the help :'D//

#teen lawrusso #i can't get enough of them

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duhragonball · 6 months ago

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JoJolion Ch.18-22

So, this scene with Yasuho idly touching her tongue to her own elbow has always bothered me. It has nothing to do with anything, and why is it even in this story?

The only explanation I can think of is that this embodies the ability of her Stand, Paisley Park. It guides Yasuho in the right direction, and finds ways to progress to a goal. This is a reflection of Yasuho's own talent for research and investigation. She gets interested in a mystery and just refuses to let it go until she can find out more.

So I guess she found out once that it's physically impossible for a human to lick their own elbow, and she put her mind to it and found a way to pull it off. But realistically, the only way that can work is if she's got hypermobility in her shoulders, or a really long tongue, or both of those things.

Anyway, this is the "Shakedown Road" arc.

Quick note: In chapter 18, Josuke contemplates Yoshikage Kira and decides that he must be a somewhat decent guy, since he apparently snuck into the Higashikata home and removed Kyo Nijimura's name from their copy of the family tree, so that they wouldn't suspect her when she infiltrated their home as a maid. This is probably why Kyo went after Josuke in the previous arc, because she found out he looked at the family tree, and worried that he was going to expose her identity.

Although, I find it odd that Kyo would have bothered infiltrating the Higashikata home at all, if Yoshikage could sneak in and out that easily. Although it seems like the two of them didn't compare notes much, even though they're on the same side.

As for the Higashikata Family, they're all having breakfast in their swimsuits, because they were planning to take a trip to Hawaii this week, but had to call it off because Hato never got her passport. This is because Hato didn't know Hawaii was part of the United States. At first I thought she didn't know anything about Hawaii, like maybe she thought it was a Japanese territory, like the British Virgin Islands or something. Or she thought Pearl Harbor was the end of World War II, and Japan got to keep Hawaii.

But no, I think it's more like... she just didn't know where Hawaii is? Like she just thought it's one of the islands in the Japanese archipelago, like Iwo Jima or Okinawa. Or maybe she just thought it was in Tokyo or something. Like, that's really dumb. Hawaii's a pretty famous place, and you'd think she'd know her own country a little better than this. "Oh, yeah, we're all taking a vacation to the Honolulu Prefecture."

Anyway, they all wore their bathing suits to at least simulate the experience of a poolside breakfast. This seems pretty sad. I mean, they have beach resorts in Japan, don't they? I mean, if I were one of the idle rich and my trip to the Bahamas fell through, I might fly out to Miami and try to get something similar.

Oh, and Joshuu isn't playing along because he never would have gotten on the plane in the first place. This is because he's an atheist, so that means he doesn't trust... planes? He also complains that the milk is a day over the expiration date, and he refuses to take chances, even over something so minor. I feel like that's not now atheism works? It's not like people only trust planes and milk because they believe that a higher power is the only thing keeping them safe.

But then again, Joshuu's an idiot. Like, I really don't get the point of this guy, aside from just putting an unlikeable, obnoxious person in the story for its own sake. Joshuu does get some consequences for his bad behavior, but most of the time he's just a complete shithead who makes an ass of himself and everyone sort of endures his presence. There's no joke, no lesson or moral. Joshuu never does anything or learns anything. He tries to act like he's a rival for Yasuho's affections, but literally no one else believes this.

Josuke wonders if he's a Stand user like Daiya, and his moronic act is part of his Stand Power. But no, he's just an idiot. And yet, the rest of the family also act like idiots, but they do have Stands and they're more dangerous. So I can see why Josuke stays on guard around him.

All right, so let's talk about Shakedown Road. In this arc, Josuke declares that he wants to go to school, and he wants his own cell phone. This is partly so he can have more freedom of movement to investigate his origins, but also he's thinking about his own future. Now that he knows he's a chimera of Yoshikage Kira and some other person, Josuke realizes that he has no past of his own, and no place where he belongs. So he needs to find a place for himself, and he figures he can discover his own talents and interests in school.

Norisuke tells Joshuu to take Josuke along to his own classes, and Joshuu decides to take a trip down "Shakedown Road". He warns Josuke that he's had money taken from him every time he's come to this place, but he insists that this time will be different. It's like he's counting on Josuke's presence to resolve the problem for him.

At first, it seems pretty unassuming. It's not like there's a bunch of muggers everywhere. Just Ginkgo trees and seemingly ordinary people. But then a woman complains to Joshuu that he stepped on her daughter's toy and demands he make restitution. Joshuu never came anywhere near the toy, but one of the stickers from it got onto his shoe, and his shoeprint is on the broken pieces, so the evidence is clear.

Joshuu explains that this was how it happened the last time he came here, but it wasn't the same woman back then. Josuke is intrigued and they use the camera on Joshuu's phone to record their movements along the road.

Then this old man accuses Josuke of breaking one of the aquariums in his shop. The collision fatally wounded an exotic turtle in the water tank. He says the turtle was decapitated, but its body was still moving around after the accident. We don't see the turtle, but this makes me sad, because there was a cool turtle in Parts 3, 4, and 5, but the Part 8 turtle has met with a tragic end. Rest in Power, Part 8 turtle. I'm sure you kicked ass.

Josuke wants to review the footage on Joshuu's phone, but Joshuu pretends he didn't hit the record button. In fact he caught the whole thing. Josuke was walking along, then he stepped on some gingko leaves, and was impossibly flung into the turtle tank at super speed. His elbow hit the tank, breaking it and killing the turtle, and then he got jerked right back where he was. And it happened so quickly that Josuke never even knew he had moved.

So Joshuu figures out that the gingko leaves have something to do with all of this, but he plays dumb so as not to clue Josuke in on this. Josuke, for his part, believes that there's a Stand User at work here, but the old man seems oblivious to Soft and Wet, so he can't have a Stand of his own, or he'd be able to see other Stands.

This is kind of a weakness with Part 8. Stands had been a fixture in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure for over twenty years by the time JoJolion started, so it's probably fair that Araki assumed the readers could keep up with the rules. Indeed, this scene where neither Joshuu, the old man, the dog, nor the cell phone camera can perceive Soft and Wet pretty much spells out how this one rule works.

Still, Parts 3 through 7 each did a much better job laying all this out for new readers. Part 3 had to get it right, because that was where the Stand concept was first introduced, but in Parts 4 and 5 the main characters had their own Stands, then learned that there were others with the same kind of power. Also, Parts 4, 5, and 6 all featured characters who developed Stands during the story, so there was a learning curve for the audience. And Part 7 was a reboot, so the idea literally had to be reintroduced on account of this.

Part 8's problem is that Josuke has amnesia, but he appears to understand his Soft and Wet powers implicitly. Either he came out of the ground immediately knowing how to use his ability, or he sorted it out while he was in the hospital in Chapter 2. The problem is that he really doesn't have anyone else to explain it to, and the battles with other Stand Users are essentially ambushes with no time to process the details.

I sort of wonder how Part 9 handles this issue. My impression is that the main characters start the story already familiar with Stands, sort of like Bruno's team in Part 5. Maybe there's a viewpoint character they can explain it to, or maybe there's a wall of exposition somewhere. Well, that's a problem for another time.

I'm a little confused on this part, but some shady-looking characters notice Josuke and Joshuu and try to use them to complete a transaction on Shakedown Road. They coerce Josuke into delivering a package to a nearby woman, and receive her handbag in exchange, I think. Joshuu realizes that the people who understand Shakedown Road can use its mysterious properties to conduct this sort of illegal business. There are undercover cops nearby, but it doesn't matter. The crooks do some tricky stuff with the gingko leaves to make the swap without getting caught. Also Josuke gets yanked at super speed so that he accidentally hits one of the cops. So while they search him for the package, the crooks all walk away, their transaction seemingly complete.

While Josuke is tackled by the cops, he notices a bunch of little creatures under the gingko leaves, and that's the Stand he was looking for. This is Les Feuilles, and the Stand's user is the gingko trees themselves? I guess?

Anyway, Joshuu managed to grab the handbag, thinking it's full of money, and runs off in all the confusion.

But the crooks catch up to him pretty easily, using their experience with the gingko leaves to zip and fly towards him. Joshuu gives them the handbag but it's empty, so they're all set to fuck him up, but then Joshuu's own Stand activates. It has the power to disassemble people and objects. In this particular situation, it just gives these guys a scare, but once Joshuu escapes the effect wears off and they decide not to pursue him. I think Joshuu's Stand is more useful than this, but he absolutely sucks, so I'm pretty sure we never see it reach its full potential.

As it turns out, Josuke managed to foil the crooks from the start. He didn't know where the Stand was or exactly how it worked, but since none of the people involved were the user, that allowed him to use his own Stand to trick them without anyone realizing it. He used Soft and Wet's bubbles to switch the money with gingko leaves, or... something. I'm a little confused to be honest. The point is that the handbag was empty, the crooks didn't get their money, and Josuke can't get pinned with anything because having money on Shakedown Road just proves you're clever, not a thief. As for the woman who got the package, Josuke tells the cops to go chase her down, so it's fair to assume that she didn't get very far.

Josuke tries to call Yasuho on Joshuu's cell phone to meet up with her, but it doesn't work because Yasuho blocked Joshuu's number. She tracks the phone's location to Shakedown Road, which is close to the Joestar Jizo, and that gets her interested.

Jizo, also known as Kṣitigarbha, is a bodhisattva revered as the patron deity of dead children and aborted fetuses. He's also revered as a protector of travelers and firefighters. The Japanese are quite fond of Jizo, and so there are a lot of statues of Jizo in cemeteries and roadsides in Japan. The idea is that the statues serve as a memorial and a sign of Jizo comforting and watching over the dead.

In this case, the Joestar Jizo was built to honor the death of Johnny Joestar, an American who died in an accident in Morioh. I guess the death of a foreigner in a foreign land was particularly sad for the locals, so they set up the Jizo to express their condolences to Johnny and his family.

Of course, we know Johnny Joestar as the hero of Part 7, Steel Ball Run. Part 8 is set 120 years after Part 7, so Johnny's death is kind of a no-brainer, but how did he die, and what was he doing in Morioh?

This sequence here is one of my favorite scenes in JoJolion. There's a certain rite of passage in JJBA, where the hero of the next part will have some sort of connection to the previous Jojo. In Part 2, Joseph never met his grandfather, but he looked just like him, and he was surrounded by people who knew Jonathan and his legacy. In Part 3, Jotaro teamed up with Joseph to track down Dio. In Part 4, Jotaro finds Josuke and informs him of his Joestar heritage. In Part 5, Giorno Giovanna is ignorant of the other Jojos, but Koichi Hirose, who has met several of them, recognizes in Giorno the same noble qualities. In Part 6, Jolyne reconnects with her estranged father, Jotaro. Part 7 was a reboot, so Johnny couldn't meet any of the previous Jojo's, but that's okay.

What I'm driving at here is that Josuke has a predecessor in Johnny, but the gulf of time between them is too vast. Josuke can't meet Johnny or anyone Johnny once knew. Josuke is all alone in Morioh, with no family of his own and no place to belong. He thinks that no one can possibly connect to him, then he sees the Joestar Jizo, wearing the same hat he has on, the same hat Johnny wore during his time in Japan.

The connection wouldn't mean anything to Josuke. He recognizes Johnny as the ancestor of Yoshikage Kira, but he doesn't see himself as part of that family. Nor would he understand that he and Johnny are part of the same college of shonen protagonists, along with Jonathan, Joseph, Jotaro, and the rest.

But we know, and in this brief moment, Josuke briefly connects with his fellow hero, and it's a beautiful thing. He's not alone, the universe tries to tell him, and he can't hear it, but maybe his heart knows, somehow.

The old man from earlier shows up and tells Josuke the legend of Johnny's death. He claims this is just a fantasy, and the library is full of other interpretations, but this is the only version we get, so it might as well be the true final fate of Johnny Joestar. So after the end of Part 7, Johnny met and fell in love with Rina Higashikata, the daughter of Norisuke Higashikata I. We saw all three of them together on the ocean liner. Norisuke was heading back to Japan with his prize money from the race, and Johnny was heading to Naples to bury Gyro Zeppeli. Eventually, Johnny and Rina married, and they lived happily for a time, until Rina came down with a strange illness. It kind of affected her mind like dementia, and Josuke wonders if it has anything to do with the condition Holly Kira has, but this is never explained. Physically, the disease does something weird to her skin, turning it rock hard and with these creases, like you'd see in origami.

The Jojo fan wiki refers to this as the "Rock Disease" and this is as close to an official name as we'll get. Johnny decided to move to Morioh so Rina could live out her remaining years in her homeland, but as her condition grew worse, he made a fateful decision.

The plot of Steel Ball Run revolved around the "Saint Corpse", the remains of a holy figure with supernatural properties. At the end of SBR, the Saint Corpse was locked away in a vault so no one would ever use it again, but Johnny knew where it was, and he chose to return to New York to steal it and use it one last time to cure his wife. The American authorities tried to stop him, but he managed to give them the slip and made it back to Morioh.

The problem is that the Saint Corpse doesn't actually perform miracles. Rather, it simply transfers fortune from one to another. Johnny's hope was that the Corpse would shift the Rock Disease from Rina to some other person, someone he didn't know. He was ashamed of doing this, but he loved Rina so much that he was willing to consign someone else to death. But the equivalent exchange backfired on him. Rina was cured, but the Rock Disease was transferred to their young son, George Joestar.

So Johnny mounted up with his son and the Saint Corpse and started riding away from their home. He didn't want his wife to see this, you understand. Realizing that he could never use the Saint Corpse to get rid of the Rock Disease, he used it one last time to transfer the disease from George to himself.

I'm a little confused about how this worked, exactly. In this scene, Johnny uses the Golden Spin to activate Tusk Act IV, which he uses to shoot a hole in his son's head, and then it bounces back onto him. I don't get it, but then again, I didn't understand Tusk Act IV in Part 7, either.

Johnny falls off his horse, and while George is cured, he shows signs of the Rock disease. Also, something about all this triggers the Les Fueilles Stand. I don't know if it was already active back then, or if Johnny's little stunt with the Saint Corpse somehow caused the gingko leaves to develop their own Stand. What I do know is that when his hand touches the leaves, they cause a giant boulder to suddenly fly in from somewhere else, and it lands right on Johnny's head, killing him.

Initially, the Morioh authorities treated this like a homicide, and even arrested Rina as a suspect, but later it was found to be an accident, and they let her go. The town built the Jizo in his memory, and I think that this whole incident might be what caused all these people to develop Stand powers in Morioh whenever they go near the fault lines. It might also explain why the land on the Higashikata estate can combine things like the lemon and tangerine from Kyo's demonstration.

At one time, I assumed that the Saint Corpse was still in Morioh, and its powers were behind everything, but that's not the case. In the old man's version of the story, the Americans finally tracked down Johnny after he died and they recovered the Saint Corpse.

Meanwhile Yasuho has independently researched the Johnny Joestar legend, and has come to the spot where he died. It's pretty close to the Higashikata mansion, as well as the spot where she found Josuke.

Yasuho also learned of another news item from the same day as Johnny's death in 1901. A small boy, no more than 2 years old, was discovered on the coast near the same area. No one ever found out who he was or where he came from, and apparently this never comes up again in JoJolion. I looked him up on the wiki to see if I might have missed something, but he's just listed as "Mysterious Boy" in the list of minor characters.

It's possible that the story of the Mysterious Boy was just a way to get Yasuho to poke around in this area, so that she would find a hole in the base of a certain pine tree where the boy was found 110 years ago. And once she gets close enough to it, someone grabs her and pulls her inside to set up the next arc. So the Mysterious Boy may never have been a plot point or a clue at all, just a curious mystery that would bait Yasuho into getting captured. Either that or the Mysterious Boy is the main villain of Part 9. Whatever.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojolion #jo2uke higashikata #yasuho hirose #johnny joestar #joshuu higashikata #norisuke higashikata iv #hato higashikata #diaya highashikata #kyo nijimura #george joestar iii #rina higashikata joestar

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