#with otak scratched into his back

[tired-demonspawn]

one thing i didn't expect from this update was old man yaoi, but old man yaoi i got

[mizho-babe]

Matchmakers (Slow/Gauge)

Slow/Gauge & Akitsu/Ume Word Count: 8,322 words Summary: Slow and Gauge try to help their masters, Akitsu and Ume, realize that they like each other.

“Hey, Gauge!” Slow yelled cheerfully, even as the larger, muscular dôji forced him across the boxing ring with a series of punches. They were sparring on the fifth floor of Gauge’s new master Ume Hibari’s high-rise. Ume’s father owned the entire building, and while neither Gauge nor Slow loved the idea of sparring in the property of an evil dôji master, Akitsu’s house was currently occupied by her family, leaving them little choice.

Each floor of the building featured a wide array of rooms with specific purposes, and the fifth floor housed the building’s gym. Almost like a daycare for dôji, their masters had left them there before heading upstairs to Ume’s room after school.

“Yes?” Gauge replied calmly, throwing a swift uppercut that narrowly grazed the sleeve of Slow’s kimono.

“Aw, nothing,” Slow said with a grin. “Just wanted to say I missed this!”

“This? You mean sparring?” Gauge’s stoic face softened into a small smile. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“I know, but you know me,” Slow said, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve got so much energy that time moves way too slow for me.”

Just two weeks ago, Slow, Gauge, and their former masters had suffered a devastating defeat in a battle against Vice. Gauge’s former master, Hiroshi, had been paralyzed from the neck down, and Slow’s former master, Machi, had been similarly taken out of the fight to care for her boyfriend. The two dôji held no resentment toward their masters—in fact, they fully supported their decisions to step away from the battle.

However, just as quickly as they had lost their previous masters, they gained new ones—Akitsu Otake and Oume Hibari—whom they had both known in their previous incarnations. Slow had been thrilled to discover that his master was as boyish as ever, even if she was now a girl, and Gauge had greeted Ume with a crushing bear hug upon their reunion. After a tumultuous few weeks, life finally felt perfect again. (Well, besides from the life or death battle in deciding whether good or evil was stronger.)

Best of all, because their masters were friends in this lifetime, Gauge and Slow could spend all day together, staying close to their new masters and, most importantly, to each other, as best friends.

Slow dodged another one of Gauge’s heavy punches with a nimble hop to the side, landing gracefully on the edge of the ring. He rested his hands on his knees, catching his breath but still grinning ear to ear. “You know,” he began, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, “it’s kind of crazy how lucky we are.”

“Lucky?” Gauge asked, his calm tone never faltering as he took a step back, signaling a brief pause in their sparring. “In what way?”

“Well, think about it,” Slow said, straightening up and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Not once, but twice now in the 21st century, we’ve had masters who know each other. It’s like the universe just wants us to stay together!”

Gauge tilted his head, considering this. “That’s true. Ume and Akitsu being friends does make things easier for us.”

“Easier? Gauge, it’s amazing!” Slow threw his arms wide in a dramatic gesture. “Do you remember the last time we had masters in the 20th century? During World War II?”

Gauge nodded slowly, his serene expression briefly darkening as he recalled the era. “Yes. Our masters were... not allies.”

“Not allies? Try complete strangers!” Slow huffed, crossing his arms. “We couldn’t spar, we couldn’t play, we couldn’t even talk most of the time because of how far apart we were. And don’t even get me started on how busy they were with the war.” He paused, his tone softening. “I missed you a lot back then, you know.”

Gauge’s gaze shifted to Slow, his calm eyes softening as well. “I missed you too,” he admitted. “That was a difficult time for both of us.”

“Right?” Slow said, his voice picking up its usual energy. “But now—now we’ve got masters who not only know each other but are, like, best friends. It’s like everything’s come full circle or something.”

Gauge chuckled lightly. “It is fortunate. And because of that, we can spar like this again.”

Slow smirked, bouncing on his toes. “Exactly! Which means no holding back, big guy. Let’s go another round!”

Gauge shook his head in mild amusement. “As you wish.” He raised his fists, readying himself.

As they moved back into position, Slow couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. For all the hardships they’d faced in their previous lives, moments like these—sparring with Gauge, laughing and talking like old friends—made everything worthwhile.

Gauge threw a controlled jab, which Slow deftly dodged before countering with a series of quick punches that barely made a dent in Gauge’s steady defense. After a moment of measured silence, Gauge lowered his fists, signaling another pause.

“But…” he began, his calm voice carrying a weight that immediately caught Slow’s attention.

“Hm?” Slow asked, tilting his head as he rested his hands on his hips.

“I’ve been thinking about the Hundred Machine Funeral,” Gauge said, his tone thoughtful. “It’s... unpredictable. We may not always have the luxury of staying close to Akitsu and Ume. There could come a time when they’re forced to fight on separate fronts.”

Slow blinked, the grin slipping from his face for a moment. “What are you saying, big guy? You think they’ll split us up?”

Gauge nodded slightly. “It’s possible. The nature of the conflict may require it. We’ve seen it happen before.”

Slow frowned, crossing his arms. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something about it.”

“True,” Gauge agreed. “Hiroshi and Machi had their differences from time to time, and we were still able to hang out.”

Slow stopped in his tracks. “Uh. Were we, though?”

Gauge paused as well, his serene expression faltering. “...Oh. You’re right.”

Hiroshi and Machi’s “differences” were, in hindsight, more like explosive lovers’ spats. To anyone else, it looked like the punk and the fortune-teller were actively trying to kill each other.

It always started small—passive-aggressive remarks about Hiroshi’s “shady dealings” or Machi’s “dumb fortune telling.” Then, like clockwork, the yelling would begin, escalating to slammed doors and days of icy silence.

Slow could still remember walking into Machi’s bedroom. She’d be sitting cross-legged in front of an altar, candles flickering around her as she muttered some ancient-sounding chant. 

“Machi?!” Slow would yell. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching Hiroshi a lesson,” she’d say with an unnerving calm, not even looking up from the altar.

“You don’t even believe in this crap!” Slow would exclaim, pacing behind her.

Meanwhile, on Gauge’s end, Hiroshi had his own unique brand of handling fights with his girlfriend. Gauge vividly remembered the time Hiroshi had abruptly rummaged through his closet, pulling out a bulletproof vest that had clearly been procured from some black-market deal.

“Where... are you going with that?” Gauge would ask.

“Visiting Machi,” Hiroshi would shrug, as if this was completely normal behavior.

Slow and Gauge shared a silent look of mutual exasperation. Those were rough times.

The worst part wasn’t the yelling or the absurd revenge schemes, though. It was the fact that Slow and Gauge weren’t able to spend any time together. Their days became consumed with playing mediator, each dôji scrambling to prevent their master from doing something regrettable - or illegal.

“Man,” Slow muttered, shaking his head at the memory. “That was brutal. We didn’t even get to spar back then. All we did was put out fires.”

Gauge nodded. “Literal fires, sometimes.”

“Right?!” Slow exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “That can’t happen again. Like, ever.”

“Well,” Gauge said. “At least our new masters aren’t nearly as….violent like that.”

Slow sighed, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “You’re right. They’re good kids.”

For a moment, he seemed at ease, but then a new concern flashed through his mind. “But... they’re also not close.”

Gauge raised an eyebrow, his usual calm giving way to mild confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“They’re just classmates. Right now.”

.“...They’ve been classmates and best friends since they were five years old.”

“That doesn’t mean anything in this day and age! Look at what happened to Yamato and Rune! They were friends forever, and now Rune is trying to kill him!” 

Slow crossed his arms, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Not to mention, he tried killing my master as well. And she loved him.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, his usual energy dimmed. He thought back to the aftermath of Akitsu’s battle with Rune, when she had confessed her unrequited feelings for the boy while on the verge of death. On the quiet walk home, she didn’t cry. She didn’t say a word. But she bit her lip so hard that blood trickled down her chin, and Slow had to wipe it away with the hem of his kimono sleeve. The memory made his soul sphere ache all over again.

“But,” he said, snapping back into the present, “I think I know how to prevent that from happening.”

“...How?”

Slow’s eyes lit up with determination, his trademark energy returning in full force. “By making sure Akitsu and Ume are solid. Like, rock-solid. They’re already best friends, but if we can make them even closer—like, you know, ‘soulmate’ close—there’s no way they’ll ever fight like that. And if they don’t fight, then we won’t get split up.”

Gauge considered this, his calm demeanor returning. “Interesting. You want to fortify their bond so that the conflict doesn’t tear them apart.”

“Exactly!” Slow said, jabbing a finger in Gauge’s direction. Then, in a gentler tone, he added, “And, on my master’s side... it’ll help her get over that kid Rune. She can be happy again!”

Gauge’s lips quirked into another small smile. “And you believe this is achievable?”

“Of course it is!” Slow said, already excited. “We’ve just gotta, you know, give them a little nudge here and there. Nothing too obvious. Just... help things along.”

Gauge hummed. “You seem quite invested in this plan, even though you just came up with it.”

Slow waved a hand dismissively. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not just about us remaining best buds. It’s good for them too, right? Happy masters, happy dôji.”

Gauge’s serene gaze lingered on Slow for a moment longer than usual before he nodded. “Very well. If this is important to you, I’ll help.”

“That sounds like an incredibly idiotic plan.” A voice deadpanned.

“Pardonner!” Slow yelled, whipping around. “How long have you been here?”

“Literally the entire time.” Pardonner said, snapping shut the book he was reading. He was sitting in a folding chair just outside the ring, less than five feet away from the two doji. “Did you forget that all three of our masters are doing their homework together upstairs?”

“Uh, yeah?” “No.” Slow and Gauge answered at the same time.

Pardonner pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Typical. Let me get this straight. You two are planning to... meddle in your masters’ personal lives because you’re afraid they’ll split up and, by extension, split you up?”

Slow crossed his arms defensively. “It’s not meddling! It’s proactive intervention!”

“Proactive intervention,” Pardonner repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Let me save you both the trouble: it’s a terrible idea.”

Slow shot the black-haired doji a glare. “Terrible? How could it be terrible?!”

“Do you truly think two humans who’ve been best friends for over a decade need your... intervention?”

“Yes!” Slow said without hesitation.

Pardonner stared at the doji for a long moment before finally speaking. “And it hasn’t occurred to you that perhaps they don’t need your ‘help’?”

“...Huh? What do you mean?”

Pardonner sighed, closing his eyes briefly as though summoning every ounce of patience he represented. “What I mean,” he said carefully, “is that people—human or dôji—don’t always need someone micromanaging their relationships. Sometimes, they’re perfectly capable of figuring things out on their own.”

“Yeah, but—” Slow started, only for Pardonner to cut him off.

“Furthermore,” Pardonner continued, “forcing interactions or meddling can lead to... unintended consequences. You might think you’re helping, but in reality, you’re only creating unnecessary drama. You will embarrass them and yourselves when this doomed plan inevitably fails.”

Slow frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Huh. I didn’t think of it that way...”

Pardonner allowed himself an ounce of hope. “Good. Then you’ll—”

“But!” Slow interrupted, his sharp grin returning. “That’s why we’re gonna be subtle about it! No unnecessary drama, just tiny nudges. You know, like fate, but... better!”

Pardonner’s eye twitched. “What do you mean, ‘fate, but better’? Your Noh is literally fate manipulation.”

Gauge, who had been quietly observing, chimed in, “Slow does have a point. If we’re careful, we could strengthen their bond without interfering too much. It’s... strategic.”

Pardonner opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, visibly weighing whether it was worth continuing. He looked between the two before he sighed in defeat. “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

“Nope!” Slow smirked at him.

Pardonner massaged his temples. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But when this blows up in your faces—and it will—I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so.’”

“Noted,” Slow said. “Thanks for the input, Pardonner. We will not take it into consideration whatsoever!”

At that moment, they heard the soft ding of an elevator. The three doji’s masters - Ume, Akitsu, and Kiyose - all stepped out, no longer wearing their school uniforms - Ume and Akitsu were now wearing sweats, and Kiyose was wearing a sweater over an ankle-length skirt.

“Just on time!” Slow pointed at them, almost bubbling over with excitement at his newfound plan.

“Huh?” Akitsu said as they walked over. “Whaddya talking about?”

“Nothing.” Gauge interrupted, before Slow could say anything else. “We’re happy to see you ladies.”

“Aw, Gauge, we were only gone for an hour!” Ume chimed in. She reached out a hand to help Gauge out of the ring. Despite Gauge being more than triple her size, he obliged and took it as he hunkered over the ropes and down onto the ground.

“We were thinking of going out for dinner.” Kiyose shyly said, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. “Wanna come?”

“Uh, hell yeah we do!” Slow blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. 

“Subtle, Slow,” Pardonner muttered under his breath.

The six of them crammed into the elevator, with Gauge hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. 

As the elevator reached the lobby, the group stepped out to find themselves greeted by the sight of a downpour. Rain hammered against the large glass windows, distorting the view of the city lights outside.

“Crap,” Akitsu groaned, slapping her forehead. “If I’d known, I’d have brought my rain jacket!”

“No worries!” Ume said cheerfully, already striding toward a nearby closet. “The doorman keeps a whole bucket of umbrellas in stock here. We’ll be fine!”

Already in sync, like they always were, Slow and Gauge turned to each other and nodded. With a flick of Slow’s fingers, he activated his fate manipulation.

Ume opened the closet and pulled out a large bucket brimming with umbrellas. “Here we go!” she said, pulling one out.

“Uh…” Akitsu squinted at the umbrella. “Ume, that umbrella is full of holes.”

“Whaa?!” Ume held it up, inspecting it under the lobby lights. Sure enough, the fabric was torn in multiple places, leaving the umbrella practically useless.

“No big deal,” She said, shrugging it off. She reached into the bucket and pulled out another umbrella. This one was in even worse shape, with frayed edges and a bent frame.

“What the heck…” Ume muttered, her cheerful mood faltering slightly as she rummaged through the rest of the bucket. Umbrella after umbrella came out damaged—holes, broken spokes, missing handles. It was like every single one had been through a storm and back.

“Uh, this is weird,” the pink-haired teen said, glancing over at the group with an awkward laugh.

Akitsu reached into the now-empty bucket and pulled out the last umbrella. “Looks like this is the only one that isn’t broken.”

Slow crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Wow! What are the odds of that?”

Pardonner let out a loud, exasperated sigh, prompting his master to frantically look at him. “A-are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” The doji muttered.

“Ume, Akitsu,” Gauge nodded to the teen girls. “You two should share that umbrella.”

Ume blinked. “But what about the rest of you guys?”

“Kiyose and I will be fine.” Pardonner reached into Kiyose’s messenger bag and pulled out an aquamarine-colored umbrella. “We always make sure to keep an extra umbrella on hand for this very reason.”

Kiyose blushed and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out another umbrella, this one a cheery yellow.

“Here.” She said, holding it out to the group. “I have one more.”

“Oh, perfect,” Pardonner said, his voice flat as he looked pointedly at Slow and Gauge. “Now Akitsu and Ume can each have separate umbrellas. No need to share at all.”

Slow shot Pardonner death glare, and Pardonner returned it with equal intensity.

“No, no,” Akitsu interjected. “Slow, Gauge—you two should share that one.”

“Wait, what? Why us?” Slow said, confused.

“Yeah,” Gauge added, though his voice remained calm. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for Akitsu or Ume to take it? You’ll both catch a cold if you get soaked.”

Ume chimed in, insistent. “Nah, you two should take it. It’ll look weird in public if you two aren’t holding an umbrella like the rest of the group. Plus,” she added with a grin, “we don’t want to ruin your clothes with the rain.” She gestured towards Slow’s beautiful black and orange kimono and Gauge’s sweatsuit, which had previously taken Ume a whole afternoon to find in his size.

“Exactly,” Akitsu said, nodding along. “It’s just practical.”

Ume handed the umbrella to Gauge. “Here you go! You two will be fine under this.”

Gauge took the umbrella, his massive hand making it look comically small. “If you insist,” he said.

“Great!” Akitsu said quickly, grabbing Ume’s arm. “Let’s go, then!”

As the group stepped outside, the rain came down in heavy sheets, the sound of it drumming against the pavement. Pardonner and Kiyose opened their respective umbrella and strolled off ahead, leaving Slow and Gauge awkwardly standing under the last remaining umbrella.

Slow shuffled closer to Gauge, clearly uncomfortable. “Man, this thing’s tiny. You’re taking up all the space.”

Gauge tilted the umbrella slightly to ensure Slow had more coverage. “I apologize. I’ll adjust.”

Slow huffed but fell silent, walking closer to Gauge to stay dry. The umbrella forced them to be shoulder-to-shoulder, and despite himself, Slow couldn’t help noticing how warm Gauge was—especially compared to the chill of the rain.

Meanwhile, Akitsu and Ume walked a few steps ahead, sharing the single umbrella, Akitsu holding it high above both their heads. Their two doji watched their backs intently.

“That was super nice of them.” Slow finally said. “It doesn’t matter to me if we get wet, but they still cared to give us the last umbrella.”

Gauge nodded. “Every day we’re with them, the more thankful I am.”

And then - it happened. 

They both watched as Akitsu placed an arm around Ume’s shoulders and pulled her closer. The two girls giggled softly, continuing their conversation as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Slow’s eyes widened. “Look at that. Our plan is already working!”

Gauge hummed. “I’m not so sure. Akitsu may have done that just to ensure they both fit under the umbrella.” He glanced down at Slow, who was still partially catching droplets of rain. Without a second thought, Gauge placed his large hand around Slow’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “Like so.”

Slow’s head pressed against Gauge’s chest, and for a moment, he froze. “O-Oh.”

Gauge was right—before, Slow’s left arm had been catching stray droplets of rain, but now he was firmly centered under the umbrella. On top of that, there was something unexpectedly comforting about being so close to Gauge. His warmth was steady, calming even, and Slow found himself relaxing into the moment despite his earlier excitement.

But at that moment, Slow had a grave realization.

“Oh no.” 

“What?” Gauge asked.

Slow’s voice grew panicked. “What if… this is a repeat of what happened to Akitsu last time?”

He gestured wildly to the girls in front of them. “If they both liked each other, this would be romantic! But what if Ume just sees it as Akitsu making sure they’re both under the umbrella? What if… my master has a one-sided crush all over again?”

“You think Akitsu would have an unrequited love for Ume?”

“Yes! My master isn’t the touchy-feely type—she would never just hold anyone like that unless she liked them!” Slow’s panic grew with every word, his voice rising as his thoughts spiraled. “I’m such a dumbass! Why didn’t I think of this? She could get hurt again!”

Gauge remained calm. “What do you suggest we do?”

Slow bit his lip, his mind whirring with ideas as they continued to walk in the rain, Gauge’s hand still resting firmly around his shoulder. It helped calm & ground the black-haired doji. Finally, after several long minutes, Slow came to a decision.

“Before we do anything else,” he said, his tone more serious than usual, “we need to find out if Ume has the potential to feel the same way toward her.”

Gauge hummed in agreement. “How do you plan to do that?”

Slow’s eyes narrowed with determination. “I have no idea. But I’ll think of something!”

As the two dôji trudged onward, rain pattering against the small yellow umbrella that covered them, Slow’s mind raced with possibilities. He wasn’t going to let his master face heartbreak again—not if he could help it.

-

An opportunity perfectly presented itself the next weekend.

Apparently, Ume and Akitsu were both huge fans of some slasher franchise - good, they have the same interests, Slow nodded approvingly - and a new installment had just been released in theaters.

Even though neither Slow nor Gauge were particularly fond of movies—Slow much preferred real-life action, and Gauge had no taste for horror—they exchanged a glance. This was it. This would be the perfect afternoon to find out if Ume liked Akitsu back.

The plan practically wrote itself.

Inside the bustling theater lobby, the group had just collected their tickets and snacks. Ume and Akitsu chatted excitedly about the franchise’s previous films, their voices animated as they debated their favorite characters and most gruesome kills.

“This one’s gonna be so good,” Akitsu said, staring at the poster next to the concession stand. “The trailer was so freakin’ bloody.”

“Right?!” Ume grinned, balancing a bucket of popcorn in one hand and her drink in the other. “I heard the twist at the end is wild!”

Slow cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention. “So, uh, since you two are such big fans of this series, you should totally sit together!”

Akitsu and Ume blinked, glancing at each other.

“I mean,” Slow continued, trying to sound casual, “you’d probably want to talk about all the, uh, cool kills and stuff during the movie, right? And the best way to do that is to sit next to each other! Not have us sit in between you guys.”

Gauge nodded in agreement, his expression calm but purposeful. “It makes sense. You both share a unique enthusiasm for this genre. Slow and I don’t want to intrude on your experience.”

Akitsu furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re okay with that?”

“Of course!” Slow nodded.

Ume looked at the tall girl before looking at the two doji. “They make a good point. Since you two don’t usually like these movies, why don’t you sit away from us?”

Slow blinked. “Huh?”

“Yeah.” Akitsu rolled her eyes. “We don’t want you two scaredy-cats screaming and ruining the movie for us. You can keep each other company in a different row while we actually watch.”

Ume nodded, already tugging Akitsu toward the theater entrance. “We’ll take seats near the front. You guys can sit somewhere more chill in the middle. Or the back. Wherever. Let’s go!”

Before either dôji could argue, the two girls disappeared into the dimly lit theater, leaving Slow and Gauge standing in the lobby, holding their snacks and looking mildly baffled.

“Uh…” Slow muttered, glancing up at Gauge. “Did we just… get ditched?” He frowned. “My master thinks I’m a scaredy-cat?”

Gauge’s calm gaze lingered on the theater door for a moment before he sighed and gestured toward their tickets. “No, this is good. We can sit behind them and observe. Let’s find our seats.”

A few minutes later, Slow and Gauge found themselves seated in the middle of the theater, surrounded by rows of other moviegoers. The previews had just started, and the room was filled with the sounds of rustling candy wrappers and murmured conversations.

Slow squinted at the row near the front where Ume and Akitsu sat. They were already leaning close, giggling about something. “Look - they’re totally into each other.”

Gauge hummed, his tone skeptical. “Or they’re simply sharing excitement over the film.”

“You’re too literal,” Slow slapped Gauge’s arm. “Just wait. I bet something cute is gonna happen any minute now.”

As the lights dimmed and the movie began, Slow kept glancing toward the front row, only half paying attention to the action-packed opening scene on the screen. He didn’t notice how closely Gauge was leaning into him, subtly hiding from the jumpscares, nor how he would naturally adjust the shared popcorn bucket every so often to make it easier for Gauge to reach.

About 30 minutes into the movie, a particularly gruesome kill scene made the entire theater audience scream, including Akitsu and Ume. Slow and Gauge both watched as the two girls jumped in their seats, instinctively clutching at each other. Then, as if on cue, they looked at each other and burst into laughter, their voices barely audible over the sound of blood splattering on-screen.

“That is adorable.” Gauge whispered.

“It’s sickening,” Slow grinned, shaking his head. “I love it.”

Akitsu chuckled and gently let go of Ume, settling back into her seat. Ume, however, lingered for a moment, gazing at Akitsu. A soft smile spread across Ume’s face before she turned back to the screen.

“Holy shit.” Slow whispered, nudging Gauge. “Did you see that?”

Gauge nodded. “It’s encouraging,” he said thoughtfully. “Ume’s smile seemed genuine.”

“Exactly! I mean, look at them! Ume totally likes Akitsu back!” Slow nearly bounced in his seat. “This is going even better than I planned.”

Before Gauge could respond, the music in the film took a sharp, ominous turn. The tension in the theater grew palpable, and even Slow found himself gripping the armrest. Without warning, a brutal jumpscare hit—a horrifying figure lunging at the screen accompanied by a deafening sound.

The theater erupted in screams. Gauge, caught completely off guard, jumped, throwing the bucket of popcorn into the air. It rained down around them in a messy shower, and Gauge’s large frame tensed as he sank back into his seat, his usual composure shattered.

Slow blinked, momentarily stunned, covered in popcorn, before turning to Gauge. “Whoa, big guy, you okay?”

Gauge’s hands were clenched tightly on the armrests, his gaze fixed straight ahead as though he were bracing for another scare. “I… I wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

Slow couldn’t help but chuckle, but it wasn’t mocking—it was warm and fond. “Hey, it’s just a movie. You’re fine, all right?”

Gauge nodded slightly but couldn’t stop shaking. Even as five minutes passed, his large frame kept tremoring.

Seeing this, Slow stood up and gently tugged on Gauge’s arm. “C’mon, let’s get outta here for a bit. You look like you could use some air.”

Gauge hesitated but eventually allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Slow placed a hand on Gauge’s back, guiding him down the aisle and out of the theater. The cooler air of the lobby greeted them, a stark contrast to the darkness & noise they’d just left behind.

They found a quiet corner near a row of arcade machines, where Slow turned to Gauge, his expression softer than usual. “Better?”

Gauge was still shaky, his breaths shallow and uneven.

“C’mon, man, it’s okay,” Slow said, his voice low and soothing. “Try to meditate.” He placed a hand on Gauge’s arm, his grip steady and reassuring. But Gauge remained tense, his gaze fixed on the floor as he struggled to regain control.

Slow sighed. He knew exactly what to do in moments like these—when the dôji of Meditation couldn’t even calm himself. Whenever they weren’t sparring or laughing together, one of their favorite shared pastimes was reading traditional Japanese poetry, especially haikus.

“Hey, big guy,” Slow said, his voice gentle. “Repeat after me.”

He closed his eyes and recited one of their favorite haikus:

“The temple bell stops— but the sound keeps coming— out of the flowers.”

Gauge’s eyes fluttered closed, and he repeated the haiku under his breath. Slowly, the rhythm of the words seemed to steady him. His shoulders began to relax, the tension draining from his body with each repetition.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes. He looked at Slow with a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”

Slow grinned. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me, right?”

Gauge nodded. “Always.”

Slow patted the muscular doji on the shoulder. “Ready to head back? I mean, I’d hate to miss Akitsu and Ume being gross and adorable.”

Gauge chuckled softly, his composure fully restored. “I’m ready. Even though I think we’ve gathered enough evidence that they could potentially like each other.” 

“Yeah,” Slow said, relieved. “Now we just gotta make them realize it.”

Gauge reached out and plucked a piece of popcorn that was still stuck in Slow’s long hair. “Sorry about the popcorn.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Slow shrugged.

They headed back into the movie theater.

–

It took Gauge and Slow a few more weeks of reconnaissance - stalking their masters’ every move together - before they decided tonight would be the night. Akitsu was hosting a sleepover at her place. She told Slow that she was tired of hanging around the Good Doji Club guys - namely, idiot Yamato - and wanted a girls’ night with Ume, Kiyose, and Sayama—plus their dôji, of course.

Admittedly, tonight was chosen because Slow was growing damn tired of waiting. “I know romance takes a while, but aren’t teenagers supposed to move quick?” he grumbled, yawning loudly. The long days of tracking Akitsu’s every move, analyzing every word and physical cue she gave around Ume, were wearing on him.

Just last week, he had been so exhausted from keeping tabs on their interactions in class that he fell asleep on Gauge’s shoulder—while they were perched in the shade of a tree branch outside the school building. Gauge, ever patient, had let him rest, though he’d teased Slow about drooling on his hoodie sleeve later.

Gauge nodded calmly. “They have to like each other, even if they don’t realize it. We just need to give them that final push.”

“Well, buddy,” Slow said, stretching his arms dramatically. “Let’s see. I’ll see ya tonight.”

Night fell, and one by one, Akitsu’s friends—and their dôji—began arriving.

Kiyose and Pardonner arrived first. Kiyose lugged her ever-present messenger bag, bulging with books and snacks, while Pardonner walked past Slow without even glancing in his direction.

Sayama and Regula rang the doorbell next. Sayama brought a home-baked cake and some DVDs for the group to watch.

“Hey...” Slow said, pulling Regula aside as soon as they stepped inside. “About your Noh…” His tone was casual, but his intent was clear. Regula’s memory manipulation ability was definitely a last resort, but if it came to it, Slow wasn’t above using it to ensure the two girls realized their feelings for each other.

“No.” Pardonner cut in sharply, appearing out of nowhere to interject. “Regula, it would behoove you to stay far away from Slow and Gauge tonight. They have no good intentions.”

Regula blinked, looking between the two dôji with a mix of confusion and mild alarm. “Uhhhh, what’s going on?”

They were interrupted by Ume skipping up the driveway with her dôji, Gauge, in tow.

“Hey, guys!” Ume called cheerfully, her arms laden with bags of chips and candy. “We’re ready to party!”

Akitsu appeared in the doorway, crossing her arms but smiling faintly. “You’d better not have brought those gross sour candies again, Hibari.”

“Like I’d ever forget them!” Ume replied with a mischievous grin, pulling a bright green bag from the pile.

Akitsu groaned but stepped aside to let her in. “You’re so annoying.”

As Ume breezed past her into the house, she turned back and gave Akitsu a playful nudge. “You’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

Akitsu muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “Maybe.”

Slow elbowed Gauge lightly. “This is the kind of energy we need to push!”

Gauge’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes glinted with amusement. “Then let’s make sure tonight counts.”

Inside the living room, the girls had spread out a makeshift seating area with cushions and blankets, snacks piled high on the coffee table. Sayama was lying across the couch, scrolling through her phone, while Kiyose was already flipping through a BL magazine.

Slow and Gauge lingered near the corner of the room, observing. Slow nudged Gauge with a smirk. “Phase one starts now.”

“Phase one?” Gauge asked, raising an eyebrow.

Slow grinned and held up a notebook. “Operation What Do You Like? has officially begun.”

“Subtle as ever,” Gauge said dryly.

“Hey, subtlety is for boring dôji. We’re fun,” Slow retorted.

He stepped forward and cleared his throat dramatically. “Ladies and dôji, I propose a game!”

Ume perked up immediately. “A game? I’m in!”

Akitsu glanced at her doji skeptically. “What kind of game?”

“Oh, just a little something to, uh, get to know each other better,” Slow said innocently, winking at Gauge. “Trust me—you’re gonna love it.”

He opened the notebook and quickly began tearing out a few sheets of paper. “We’re playing What Do You Like? Here’s how it works: we take turns pulling a question out of this bowl,” he gestured to an empty snack bowl he had repurposed, “and everyone has to answer. Truthfully.”

Sayama sat up and smiled. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Too easy,” Pardonner muttered from his place on another couch.

“You’ll love it,” Slow said, waving him off. “Gauge, help me come up with questions!”

The two dôji huddled together, scribbling down prompts and occasionally giggling maniacally (mostly Slow). They filled the bowl with folded slips of paper and placed it in the center of the group.

“Alright,” Slow said, rubbing his hands together. “Ume, you go first!”

The first few rounds were lighthearted and silly, setting the tone:

What’s your favorite snack? If you could have any superpower, what would it be? What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?

The group laughed and joked as they shared their answers, but Slow was clearly biding his time. When it was finally his turn to pull a question, his eyes lit up mischievously, and he once again activated his fate manipulation to ensure he picked the right scrap of paper.

“Alright, here’s a good one,” he says, reading the paper: “What do you like about the other person?”

The room falls silent for a moment.

Ume blinked, then laughed nervously. “Wait, like... which other person?”

“Whoever you want!” Slow exclaimed with a grin, but his eyes darted pointedly between Ume and Akitsu. “But I mean, it’s always more interesting if you talk about someone in this room!”

Regula crossed his arms. “This… feels like something Yamato would come up with.”

Pardonner closed his eyes in aggravation. “But more idiotic, if that’s even possible.”

“Okay, I’ll start!” Slow interjected, cutting off the two haters before they could ruin the mood any further. 

He cleared his throat and turned to Gauge. “I like your hair. How it pokes out all wild from your ponytail.” He smiled. “There. And then, the person has to say something they like about the first person back!”

He nodded at the larger dôji, who blinked in realization—it was his turn to speak. Gauge stared at Slow, deep in thought, before responding. “I like the beauty marks underneath your eyes. They’re symmetrical. They’re still visible even when you laugh and your eyes scrunch up.”

“Hm. Shallow,” Pardonner muttered. “Name an actual quality you like about each other that isn’t physical.”

Slow glared at Pardonner. “Easy.” He looked back at Gauge. “You always ground me, even when I fly off the handle sometimes.”

Gauge tilted his head, considering this. After a moment, he responded, his voice calm and sincere. “I like that, despite all your energy, how much you love fighting and fitness, you enjoy calm things, too. Like poetry. It shows balance—something not a lot of people, not just dôji, have.”

Slow’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the thoughtful response. “Wow, uh… thanks, big guy,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

Kiyose blushed at this exchange, looking between the two.

“Your turn, Ume!” Slow announced, snapping everyone’s attention back to the game. “What do you like about Akitsu?”

Ume froze for a moment, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Oh, uh… well, I like how she always looks out for me. Like, no matter what’s going on, I know she’s got my back.” She hesitated, then added, “And she’s, like, super brave. Braver than I’ll ever be.”

Akitsu raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s not bad, Hibari. Not bad at all.”

“Okay, okay, now you go, Akitsu!” Slow said, more excited than ever.

Akitsu rolled her eyes but relented. “Fine. I like that Ume never gives up, even when things get hard. She’s tougher than she looks.” She glanced at Ume out of the corner of her eye, her voice softening slightly. “And… she’s fun to be around. She makes me laugh harder than anyone else.”

Ume’s face lit up, and she nudged Akitsu playfully. “Aw, you big softie!”

“Don’t push it,” Akitsu muttered, though there was a faint smile on her face.

“And if we are being shallow, I still think you have the prettiest legs ever!” Ume giggled.

“Hey!!” Akitsu blushed. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying that!”

Slow leaned toward Gauge and whispered, “It’s working!”

Gauge nodded subtly, his gaze shifting between the two girls. “It does seem promising,” he admitted.

Regula scrunched his eyes at the two doji enthusiastically and creepily staring at their masters while whispering and then turned his head to Pardonner. “What the hell is going on here?”

Pardonner sighed. “Nothing. Everyone is just being stupid right now.”

The night went on, the group finishing the game before settling in to watch a rom-com in the dimly lit living room. Ume, Akitsu, and Sayama curled up together under a blanket on the couch. While Slow would have preferred it was just the two girls, he still noticed how Ume and Akitsu hugged each other occasionally or shared snacks during the movie, and that was good enough—for now.

By the time the clock struck 2 a.m., the movie had ended, and the girls were visibly exhausted.

“I’m going to change into my jammies!” Ume announced with a wide yawn, stretching as she got up from the couch.

Gauge turned to Slow, lowering his voice. “This may be our last chance.”

Slow grimly nodded. “Let’s go.”

First, Gauge approached Ume in the guest bathroom, who was braiding her hair in front of a mirror. He stood quietly behind her for a moment before clearing his throat.

Ume turned, smiling. “Oh, hey, Gauge. What’s up? You need help changing into your pajamas?”

Gauge hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully. “Sometimes, when you care about someone… it’s important to let them know.”

Ume blinked, tilting her head. “Let them know what?”

“That you care about them,” Gauge said.

Ume narrowed her eyes playfully. “Are you trying to tell me you care about me? That’s so sweet, Gauge!”

Gauge shook his head. “No, I mean… not me specifically. Just… in general. It’s good to express your feelings before it’s too late.”

Ume studied him for a moment, clearly trying to piece together what he was getting at. “Uh, thanks, I guess?”

Gauge nodded once, feeling like he had said enough. “Just something to think about.”

Ume slowly nodded. “You’re right, Gauge. I think… more people… should think about that.”

Gauge sighed in satisfaction. Ume got it. With that, he turned and walked back to the living room.

Meanwhile, as Akitsu rummaged through her room for her skincare products, Slow sidled up to her, hands clutching the hems of his kimono sleeves. He leaned against the wall, trying to look casual.

“Hey, uh, Akitsu,” he started.

Akitsu paused, glancing at him. “What?”

Slow cleared his throat. “So, uh, you know how sometimes in life, you get, like… these once-in-a-lifetime chances?”

Akitsu raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying!” Slow said quickly, throwing up his hands. “You know, sometimes you just gotta… go for it! Like, really take that leap, you know?”

Akitsu squinted at him suspiciously. “A leap into what?”

Slow opened his mouth, then closed it again, realizing he was dangerously close to blowing the plan. “Into… whatever you want! You know, like… whatever makes you happy!”

His master stared at him. “Are you okay, Slow? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

Slow took a step back. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna make sure that you’re okay!”

Akistu’s expression softened. “Thanks.” She looked down before looking back up at him. “I wanna make sure you’re okay as well.”

Slow shrugged nonchalantly. “You know me, I’m always good.”

Akitsu stepped forward. “I’m serious, if you ever wanna tell me anything, I’m here for you.”

Slow smiled. “Same here.” After a moment, he decided to emphasize. “Anything. Like even if it’s embarrassing or… personal.”

Akitsu looked confused, before Slow saw that her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Uh. Sure. Will do.” She shook her head. “Let’s head back to the girls.”

Slow smiled. The blush told him all he needed to know. The plan was one step closer to success. “Let’s go.”

About ten minutes later, the dôji regrouped near the snack table.

“Oh,” Gauge said, looking down at the long black-haired doji. “I like your pajamas.”

Slow had changed out of his typical formal furisode and was now wearing a casual cotton yukata. He looked down at his clothes. Service sometimes teased him for how he preferred to only wear traditional Japanese garb, but it was what Slow felt the most comfortable - it felt the most him. He rarely thought about his clothing choices unless Service pointed it out - or when Gauge complimented him on it - which he did a lot.

“Thanks, man,” Slow grinned back up at the larger doji. He took a moment to glance at Gauge’s outfit: blue-and-yellow checkered flannel pajamas that somehow made him look even bigger. “How did you even find jammies in your size?”

“Ume had to custom-order these.” Gauge shrugged.

“...Well?” Slow whispered, voice dropping low. “How’d it go? Did you talk to Ume?”

“It was somewhat awkward,” Gauge admitted. “But I think progress was made.”

“Same,” Slow muttered, crossing his arms. “Y’know, they’re kinda dense for humans.”

“Says the pot to the kettle.” said Pardonner, who had been eavesdropping from his spot on the floor. He had also changed into his infamous chick-printed pajamas and was tucked into a white sleeping bag, making him look like a baby chick that was just hatched. 

“Hey, we’re making progress!” Slow shot back defensively. “You’ll see. By the time this sleepover is over, they’ll be all over each other!”

Gauge nodded in quiet agreement.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Akitsu and Ume crossed paths as they headed back to the living room.

“Hey,” Ume said, frowning slightly. “Did Gauge say something weird to you just now?”

Akitsu paused, thinking back to Slow’s cryptic pep talk. “Yeah… and so did Slow.”

The two girls exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

“They’re so weird,” Ume said between giggles.

“Totally,” Akitsu agreed.

—

The morning light filtered through the curtains as the group gathered around the breakfast table, a spread of pancakes, fish, rolled omelets, and fruit piled high in the center. Everyone looked a little groggy from the late-night antics, but the cheerful atmosphere was infectious.

Slow sat across from Akitsu and Ume, keeping a keen eye on them. He’d watched them all morning—laughing together, leaning in to share whispered jokes, and, most recently, Ume stealing a pancake right off Akitsu’s plate.

“Hey!” Akitsu protested, her mock glare betrayed by the faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“What?” Ume grinned, holding the pancake up like a trophy. “It’s not my fault your pancakes are better than mine.”

“They’re literally the same pancakes!” Akitsu said, rolling her eyes. Still, she didn’t stop Ume from taking a bite.

Slow’s eye twitched. He turned to Gauge, who was quietly eating his breakfast, looking unbothered as always.

“That’s it,” Slow muttered, slamming his fork down.

The clatter of metal on the wooden table drew the room’s attention as Slow stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at the two girls.

“I’VE HAD IT! Why aren’t you two dating already?!” he demanded, his voice loud enough to make Kiyose nearly drop her coffee mug.

The room fell silent. Even Pardonner looked up from his book, eyes narrowed in annoyance. On the other side of the table, Regula and Sayama looked at each other in total confusion before glancing back at Slow.

Ume and Akitsu froze, staring at Slow with wide eyes. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the nearby fridge.

Finally, his master broke the silence. “What are you talking about?”

“You two!” Slow gestured wildly between them. “The pancakes! The whispering! The way you’re all… gross and cute with each other all the time! And have been for the last freakin’ month or two, hell, maybe even forever before that! Just admit it—you like each other!!”

A beat of silence passed before Ume and Akitsu burst out laughing.

“Slow,” Ume said between giggles, wiping a tear from her eye. “We are dating.”

Akitsu smirked, resting her chin on her hand. “Have been for weeks.”

Slow blinked, his mechanical brain stalling as he processed the information. “Wait… what?!”

Ume shrugged. “Yeah, we thought it was obvious.”

“Very obvious,” Akitsu added, biting into a piece of toast.

“WHAT?!” The information finally caught up in Slow’s mind. “But - when? How?!”

Akitsu blushed faintly. “Well… uh.”

Slow violently pointed his finger at her. “Just last night I told you to tell me everything personal! Tell me NOW!”

Ume cut in. “After Akitsu and Rune fought, Akitsu came over and I…” she glanced at the tall girl with a blush. “I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I told her how I’ve felt… how I’ve always felt.”

Akitsu gave Ume’s hand a warm squeeze, her voice soft. “And I realized that… maybe I should take a chance and let myself feel this way about my best friend.”

Slow’s jaw dropped. “But—why didn’t you say anything?! We’ve been—Gauge and I—we’ve been trying to get you two together this whole time!”

Akitsu and Ume exchanged a knowing glance before Ume leaned forward, her grin turning mischievous. “Funny, we could say the same thing about you two.”

The room froze again. This time, it was Slow and Gauge’s turn to look confused.

“W-What?” Slow stammered.

“I’m honestly shocked you two haven’t caught on,” Akitsu said, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been doing everything we can to set you two up for weeks.”

“Huh?!” Slow blurted out again.

“Yeah,” Ume chimed in, her tone teasing. “Like the umbrella thing? And making you sit together at the movies?”

Gauge now spoke. “...That wasn’t just…a coincidence?”

“Not even a little,” Akitsu said with a smirk. “Hiroshi and Machi told us before we took over as your dôji masters.”

“Told you what?!” Slow demanded, his face heating up.

“That you two liked each other, obviously,” Ume said with a laugh. “Apparently, it was always super obvious to everyone except you two.”

Slow turned bright red, sputtering. “Wha—but—” He turned to Gauge, looking for some kind of denial or explanation or back-up from his best friend, but Gauge just stood there, his calm expression betraying a hint of nervousness.

“Well?” Akitsu prompted, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna deny it? Or are you finally going to admit it?”

Slow opened and closed his mouth a few times, completely at a loss. “I—I mean—I don’t…” He glanced at Gauge, who was watching him closely, as if waiting for something.

Finally, Gauge broke the silence, his deep voice quiet. “They’re right.”

Slow blinked, his soul sphere feeling like it skipped a beat. “What?”

Gauge nodded, meeting Slow’s wide-eyed gaze. “They’re right. I do like you. I have for a long time.”

The room went silent, everyone waiting for Slow’s response. For once, the ever-energetic dôji seemed completely speechless.

After a long pause, Slow finally found his voice. “You—you like me? Like, like-like me?”

Gauge’s lips turned into a faint smile. “Yes, Slow. Like-like.”

Slow’s face turned a deep shade of red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh… good. ’Cause… I guess I like-like you too.”

Ume let out a loud cheer, clapping her hands together. “Finally!”

Akitsu smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Took you two long enough.”

Pardonner, who had been quietly observing the entire scene, sighed and muttered under his breath, “Idiots. All of them.”

[obihiro-division]

Veiled Vanguard Drama Track 1 - Bare to the World

Part 1

Chaos is swirling all around Hisoka Tetsuma, his ears ringing loudly from whatever gun had fired within the warehouse. Like a avalanche, more and more bodies started to fall around his legs screaming for help, salvation from the monster let loose upon the poor unsuspecting men. Whipping his head around he sees his twin brother, running towards him in a silent scream before a shadow looms over the two of them.

And right before he wakes up, Hisoka watches his brother get speared by one clawed hand.

【 Spur Stud Ranch, Hisoka’s Living Quarters 】

Jolting awake, Hisoka flails his blankets off his body as if he were trying to escape his own nightmares into the physical world. Drenched in sweat, the man gasps and clenches at his torso to make sure his body is intact. It takes awhile, but eventually the man calms down enough to slump his body back down in his bed letting his breathing even out.

It has been nearly two years since the incident yet his mind can’t seem to let him move on. In his dreams and even in his waking life, the image of his twin brother Haruto haunts him. Hisoka knew that he needed to give it time. But no matter how much his few supports had repeated those comforting words, it never eased him in the slightest.

Seeing that there was no point in trying to force himself to go back to sleep, the man went about to start his day. Cleaning himself, greeting the other early morning workers, then getting to his favorite part of his job: Taking care of the horses. That is, when he isn’t cleaning up their stalls or mixing their feed, and instead taking the time to groom and ride the horses…

【 Spur Stud Main Barn 】

Checking into the main barn’s lounge, he goes to start a pot of coffee for the more caffeine addicted workers that have yet to arrive. Seeing that he also would probably need the stimulation to stay awake for the day, he made sure to get his biggest thermos so that he could stay wired for the day.

Ken Otake: Hey, Tetsumasu!

Nearly dropping his drink in surprise, Hisoka whips around to stare at the barn manager in alarm.

Ken Otake: Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. You have a package.

Hisoka: P-Pack…?

The man’s voice cracks, not that his manager seemed to pay any mind. He hands the large box over to Hisoka, scratching his head seemingly in equal parts confused about the package’s origins and contents. 

Ken Otake: This thing’s pretty heavy! It says its from the capital… You got like a sister over there? Or maybe even a girlfriend?

The comments alone was making Hisoka sweat, but the implication of it being from a significant other got a blush out of him.

Hisoka: N-No! I mean… It’s probably just my uh, ma! That’s probably it…

It seemed that Otake wanted to pry into the matter further and tease Hisoka. The man was quick to dodge any further comments both literally and figuratively, as he patted the manager awkwardly and spoke in a more confidant tone.

Hisoka: Thanks for delivering it to me Otake-san. I’m just gonna drop it off… I-In my room.

That was a partial lie that unfortunately slipped towards the end of his statement in stutters. But it was enough to get him out of the main barn and make his way back in the direction of his living quarters. Instead of going to the employee’s residential building however, Hisoka made a hard turn to go to one of the abandoned barns further out the on property. The walk would be long and it might bring suspicion to what he was doing, but his imagination was going wild about the package and what its contents could be. What if this is a GPS tracker? What if this is a bomb? What if this is the head of some random guy who he might have known?

By the time Hisoka had snuck into the barn through a giant hole in the wall (the door was rusted shut), he carefully set the package down in the middle of the dilapidated building and walked back slowly. When all was silent, he let out a surprisingly shrill scream for someone with a baritone voice.

Hisoka: THEY FOUND ME, FUCK!

Starting to pace around the barn, Hisoka began to rant.

Hisoka: I thought I covered my tracks? Fuck, I knew I should have started to go under a fake name. But I panicked! I panicked because I was scared. Toshiko-san was right, I was bound to get found by some pissed off gangster sooner or later!

With a one, two stomp, he points at the box in an accusatory tone.

Hisoka: Why now?! Why the hell did this have to appear right when I was getting comfortable in my new life?!

And in an exhausted sigh, the man falls to his knees not caring about the dirt and bugs that scattered around him.

Hisoka: Do I really have to live my life on the run? That… That was the last thing I wanted to do. I worked so hard to get here… How could I have ruined it?

Letting his hands massage his temples, his temper starts to mellow out. And with that, Hisoka is overcome with curiosity. Considering Chuohku had made an effort to send this package, he might as well check out the contents, right? If this was some sort of trap, he might as well accept fate.

Reaching towards the package, the man tentatively tore the packing tape off to gently lift the flaps open. But right as he was about to look inside, the sound of the barn’s rusted doors rattling startled Hisoka. His yellow eyes stared at the doors, watching, waiting for the sound of someone to try at the doors again. Internally, Hisoka’s brain was already going a mile a minute. It’s the cops, here to detain him now that their bomb failed to detonate! …Or something even more ridiculous. These thoughts were overwhelming his mind, distracting from the shadow that loomed above him before it was too late.

Hisoka: …SHIT!

In a shout, the red head whips around to strike the stranger only to stumble in his crouched position. As he scrambles to stand properly, to fight back against his assailant, Hisoka is pushed onto his back instead. Straddled by a green haired man, dressed in the fanciest suit Hisoka has probably seen in his life, Hisoka struggles to take a swing at him. Only the man pins each arm one by one, before leaning down to stare down at Hisoka with cold purple eyes.

Jack: …That’s no way to greet a guest, Mr. Tetsumasu.

To be continued…

[dearmadalice]

@nekkyousagi - A little blurb in which Date Shigezane seeks advice for his romantic plight from vegetables and Kojuro

“Is there something wrong with me?” Shigezane leaned against his hoe, blinking sweat out of his eyes while he pouted at Kojuro. “Yes,” Kojuro answered. He didn't look up from his task. He picked up a stone he had turned up and tossed it away and out of the field. “But, you should be more specific. Otherwise we'll never get anywhere with this conversation.” Shigezane huffed and whined again. “Funny,” he snorted. “Mean Tsuna . . .  but what I mean is there something wrong with me as a man?” Shigezane scratched the side of his face. “I always thought I was sorta good with women . . . but I think I've lost it.”

Kojuro gave Shigezane a look. “Specifics,” he said again. Then he shook his head. “Sometimes that happens to a man when he's far past his prime.” Shigezane turned a violent shade of red and grumbled angrily. “Asshole. No, I mean . . . like. It was easy before. Talking to them and getting them to like me. But now I feel like they don't understand what I'm trying to say.” Shigezane kicked a bit of dirt and started plowing, sighing heavily. “Or maybe I just got stupid all of a sudden. I don't know how to be any more obvious than I already am!” “I thought you made a promise not to repeat the mistakes of your past.” Kojuro looked at Shigezane, who was still paying strict attention to the dirt. “Or should I remind you where your actions landed you? Your daughter?”

Shigezane turned red again. “N-not like that,” he mumbled. He turned red again, and his youth was apparent on his face and in the way his hands tightened against his tool's handle. “I mean . . . real love, Tsuna. I didn't want to marry those other girls but . . . I really want to. I'm really serious this time!” Shigezane's brow furrowed and the set of his mouth stiffened. Kojuro sighed a little. “Is Miss Otake giving you trouble?” Shigezane inhaled sharply. “H-how'd you know?!” Kojuro started laughing then. “You're right. I don't know how you possibly could be any more obvious about it.” Shigezane acted very much like a love sick fool around the young country woman Otake. He tripped over himself and was always practically pinned to her side. He whined when she was gone. And he spent far too much time thinking over letters to send her. A man who had always had so much confidence in his writing, suddenly having so much trouble? Shigezane groaned again. “If I'm so obvious to you then why do I feel so useless?” Shigezane fell quiet, stopping his work. Kojuro looked him over, and saw that the younger man was much distressed. He understood why Shigezane had wanted to help in the fields. Kojuro used it as a way to work through his own troubles, and to get a few moments of peace away from his other, numerous responsibilities. Shigezane had been seeking the same. “I don't know what to do, Tsuna. I think she's starting to hate me.” Shigezane's whole posture slumped. “But I guess . . . I guess that makes sense.” “I don't think she hates you,” he said. “If she did, you'd probably know. She'd tell you.” One of her many quirks was her sometimes crude bluntness. To his knowledge, she had never said anything to indicate Shigezane was some intolerable lout. “But you can't force her, Shigezane.” “I know.” Shigezane rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did that.” He looked over at Kojuro and shook his head. “I already know what I have to do. I guess I just needed to hear it.” “And what would that be?” Shigezane took a breath. “Let her go, I guess. That's what you'd say.” Kojuro walked over, and smacked Shigezane on the back of the head. “That isn't what I was going to say. I was going to say, that if you truly wish to pursue Miss Otake that you need to be yourself. Offer yourself. And if it's meant to be, it will be.” He could hardly believe he was giving Shigezane romantic advice. Then he smacked the other man again. “It isn't the Date way to just give up. We fight.” That seemed to resonate. Shigezane's eyes burned to life, his lips curling into a smile. “You're right! Of course you're right!” He dropped his hoe, bouncing over a row of radishes as he started back towards the estate. “I'm going to write a letter!” he exclaimed. “No . . . I am going to go see her! I'm going to show her that a Date man is a real catch! That Date Shigezane is the greatest catch in Oushu!” Shigezane flexed a little and then laughed. “Thanks, Tsuna~! You're a real help!” Kojuro stood there a moment, before he realized Shigezane's work wasn't nearly done. “G-get back here!” he shouted. “Finish what you started! Shigezane!” But the other man had already bounced out of the fields and onto the main road back to the castle, well out of earshot. He hoped Shigezane would be a less useless husband one day than a farmer.

[its-lifestyle]

On a sunny Thursday afternoon, three friends sit down together for a meal. Interestingly, it is the sole male among the three who has done all the cooking.

“It took me three days to prepare all this food,” exclaims David Neo, a senior lecturer at the faculty of film, theatre and animation at Universiti Teknologi Mara (UiTM).

His friends are in awe and conversation flows as plates are piled with food. “Ooh, what is this?” asks the cheerful Dr Lee Su Kim, author of the popular Kebaya Tales and the founding president of the Peranakan Baba Nyonya Association KL & Selangor.

“It’s called bakwan goreng and it’s a meatball with some spices in it,” says Neo, poking the plump rotund balls he has carefully fried up.

“I don’t know how to make any of these things. But I know how to make pongtey in a pressure cooker,” laughs Melissa Chan, who recently wrote a book called Stories Of One Malaccan Family.

The three laugh merrily and turn their attentions to eating. Although none are related, they share a common bond: they are all Peranakan Chinese.

History of the Peranakan Chinese

There are nine different Peranakan communities in Malaysia – the Peranakan Chinese in Penang, their counterparts in Melaka, Portuguese Eurasians, the Hindu Chetties in Melaka, Jawi Peranakans (made up of Indian Muslims married to Malays), Arab descendants (Muslim Arabs married to local women), the Peranakan Chinese communities in Terengganu and Kelantan and the samsam Peranakans (who are of Thai and Malay lineage).

Of these, the Peranakan Chinese in the Straits Settlements (Penang, Melaka and Singapore) are the ones that most people are likely to be familiar with. In Melaka, this community typically speaks Baba Malay while in Penang, Hokkien is the language of conversation.

Peranakan Chinese can trace their ancestry back to the 13th century when Chinese merchants travelled to Malaysia and ended up marrying local women and settling in different parts of Malaysia. The women they married themselves came from multiple places – Batok, Java, Sulawesi, Thailand and Bali. This intermingling resulted in a unique cultural identity that has – to a certain extent – prevailed to this day.

The word “Peranakan” itself literally translates to “child of the land”, but within the Peranakan Chinese community, men are called Babas and women are called Nyonyas, although there is some contention in this regard as the word Baba is typically limited to male descendants who have been here for generations, as opposed to families whose lineage traces back to late 19th and 20th century Chinese immigrants, termed singkehs.

“These days, there are very few families where both parents are Peranakans, as many have married outside the community. After the war, a lot of the Peranakan families were letting their daughters marry the singkehs because they showed potential. So with time, the culture is getting more watered down because it’s just one side of the family that’s represented,” says Neo, who is a descendant of the famed Tan Tock Seng (who founded the Tan Tock Seng hospital in Singapore).

Chan, Neo and Lee believe that while there is definitely a loss of culinary identity in modern Peranakan Chinese, evolution is key to sustaining the community’s culture.

Food and occasions

Back in the day, the Peranakan Chinese culinary identity was forged based on the Nyonyas, the matriarchs of the homes.

The Nyonya women developed their well-rounded culinary skills and hone recipes that then became tightly-guarded family secrets.

“The food culture is a very rich culture and it’s all deeply family guarded secrets. So different families will have different versions and it’s really families distinguishing themselves, especially the prominent families. In fact, if you find similarities between your food and another Peranakan Chinese family’s recipes, you might actually be related!” says Neo.

As Peranakan Chinese food is notoriously laborious and time-consuming, in the past, the work was often made easier because women from different branches of the family would come together to cook for weddings, banquets and family events.

While the Peranakan Chinese have a litany of dishes for different occasions, one of the occasions that necessitates cooking up a storm is the practice of ancestral worship or sembahyang abu.

“Ancestral worship is very central to the culture, so depending on who they venerate in the family, if it is grandma, then they will do a sembahyang abu on her birthday, death day and Chinese New Year,” says Neo.

The dishes served for these ancestral homage typically take the form of the forebears’ favourite meals and are presented in multiples of four, with up to eight or 12 dishes laid out for the prayers. Aside from ancestral worship, there is also the concept of tok panjang, or long table meals which involve elaborate festive meals with dishes like pork pongtey and pork with buah keluak arranged on a long table for Chinese New Year, weddings or other festive occasions.

“The whole idea of the tok panjang is to have a spread on the table,” agrees Neo.

Many Peranakan Chinese recipes have not been passed down the generations as modern Nyonya women simply do not have the time to produce these labour-intensive dishes anymore. Pictured here is taugey masak ikan asin.

Lesser-known Peranakan meals

Over time, Peranakan Chinese women have evolved, with many pursuing careers. While this is in tandem with a more global phenomenon, it has also resulted in the loss of many of the heirloom recipes that were typically passed down through the generations. “I eat some of this food at my aunty’s place because she cooks it. But none of my aunty’s daughters cook so I think the recipes will probably not get passed down,” says Chan.

“So it’s a double-sided kind of thing, the more independent the Nyonyas became, the less time they spent in the kitchen. In my grandmother’s time and mother’s time, they were always in the kitchen, celebrated all the festivals and did all the rituals. But few people do that now,” says Lee.

As a result, most people now get their first taste of Peranakan food from local restaurants purportedly serving the cuisine. Unfortunately, Neo says many of the recipes found in modern Nyonya restaurants bear no resemblance to the authentic Peranakan Chinese food he grew up with.

“There is so much that is being diluted and bastardised that when you go to a Peranakan restaurant, half of the menu is not Peranakan at all,” he says, as Lim shakes her head in disgust and mutters “Imposters!”

Still, some stalwarts – like Neo and his friends continue to champion the food and cook their heirloom recipes.

Neo, for instance inherited many recipes from his grandmother like his treasured buah paya masak titek, a light, aromatic soup enhanced with wedges of papaya that he continues to make to this day. “I think it’s not common because even though I’ve seen it in cookbooks, I’ve never had it in anyone’s home or seen it in a restaurant,” he says.

Neo says that most Peranakan restaurants do not serve anything close to the authentic Peranakan Chinese fare he grew up with.

Then there is blotok, a spice-laden concoction similar to otak-otak except that it makes use of fish, prawns and squid.

Meatballs laced with an assortment of spices form the backbone of the corpulent fried bakwan goreng – probably one of the most addictive things to emerge out of the Peranakan Chinese kitchen, if Neo’s version is anything to go by.

Neo says many of these dishes require back-breaking labour, including making everything from scratch, which is why most Peranakan Chinese have turned their backs on the cuisine altogether.

“I mean, our mothers used to cook like that. But nobody now has the time to cook like that. With Peranakan cooking, it is very labour-intensive because you make your rempahs from scratch. Everything that needs to be shredded has to be shredded by hand, because it’s also a reflection of being refined,” says Neo.

While Neo, Chan and Lee all believe that the Peranakan Chinese culinary identity is under threat, they are also pragmatic about the future.

“I think the younger generation should know about the culinary traditions but also how they are going to take that on – it would not be the same as the past because we have to constantly evolve,” says Chan.

Lee says this might mean really having to adapt with the times in more drastic ways, foregoing traditional ways of doing things in favour of updating recipes according to modern needs.

“There might be a day when you need a cookbook that shows people how to cook Peranakan food using shortcuts like pressure cookers and microwaves. I mean, we have to maintain some criteria but we cannot be sticklers about everything,” she says.

Read Part 2 of our series on different Peranakan culinary identities here.

BUAH PAYA MASAK TITEK

For the rempah 50g shallots 4 dried chillies 7g belachan 2 candlenuts

For cooking 400g firm unripe green-yellow papaya 300g prawns, peeled 50g dried salted fish (ikan kurau), cut into 1cm squares 1 litre prawn stock (made from boiling the prawn shells from the above prawns)

To make Pound/grind all the ingredients for the rempah into a fine paste. Set aside.

In a pot, fry salted fish untill it is fragrant. Add prawn stock and bring to boil. Add the rempah and stir for awhile. Add prawns, and lastly add papaya. Do not overcook papaya. Serve hot.

        BLOTOK

For the rempah 150g shallots 10 dried chillies 20g belacan 5 candlenuts 200g stingray, cut into bite-sized pieces 200g prawns, peeled 200g squid, cleaned, and cut into bite-sized pieces 1/2 cup coconut milk 1 egg 5 leaves daun kadok, finely shredded 2 small daun kunyit, finely shredded 10 leaves daun limau purut, finely shredded 4 stalks daun kesom (use leaves only), finely shredded banana leaves, cut into about 15 cm squares to wrap blotok

To make

Pound/grind all the ingredients for the rempah into a fine paste.

Combine all ingredients (except banana leaves) together and mix well. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of mixture onto each banana leave and fold into a boat, bringing the fours ends in, and secure with a toothpick. Steam for half an hour. Eat hot.

from Food – Star2.com https://ift.tt/34IIG98