#wow i sound VERY bitter huh

[cassiabaggins]

Too Bitter, Too Sweet (part one)

A chance encounter gives you a once in a lifetime opportunity: the chance to reunite with your first love, Leon Kennedy.

Fluff and Angst

Words: 4k

Warnings: none. Just Leon being awkward. NO SMUT

(April is an oc, she is VERY briefly mentioned because I couldn't resist)

Reblogs and comments appreciated! Cross-posted on ao3.

You can hardly believe what you're seeing. He's older, with longer hair and a hardened look, but you'd recognize him anywhere. Leon Kennedy, your first love and college boyfriend. 

You're approaching him before you can think about it. 

“Leon?”

He freezes, startling a little like no one has called his name in forever, and turns to stare at you. There is no spark of recognition in those baby blue eyes. 

“Uh, hi?”

“It's me, Leon. Y/N. From college? We… were close.”

Close is an understatement. The two of you had dated for almost a year, but he doesn't seem to recognize you or remember. You suppose you can't blame him. It's been nearly ten years and you've both changed quite a bit.

A beat. Another. 

Then his eyes widen and a soft, shy little smile blooms across his face. “Y/N,” he murmurs, then laughs, running a hand over his hair. “Wow. Hi! You look… different.”

You giggle. Oh Leon. He's really not changed at all. “Different?” You ask.

“It's a good different!” He hurries to say.

“It's good to see you again,” you tell him. 

He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his eyes. “You, too.”

He looks around the area, as if trying to figure out what you're doing here. “What are you doing in D.C.?”

You adjust the strap of your purse. “I'm here for work,” you explain. 

Leon puts his hands in his pockets. “Work, huh? You passed the bar, then? That's amazing.” 

You feel your cheeks warming. “How'd you know I was a lawyer?”

“Because that's what you were studying in college,” he replies. “It wasn't that long ago. You think I forgot? Besides, how many different jobs are there to be done in a courthouse?”

You laugh softly, and Leon grins, clearly pleased that he made you laugh. His smile is exactly the same as you remember it, slightly lopsided, sweet, and genuine. It makes you remember easier times and how he used to kiss you. You shouldn't be thinking about him like that… it's been almost ten years, there's no way he doesn't have a girlfriend.

“Are you still in law enforcement?” You blurt, desperate to distract yourself.

Leon shifts in place, and you think his smile falters slightly.

“Something like that,” he says ambiguously. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It's hard to explain,” he replies, scratching the back of his head. “Uhm… it's government stuff.”

He's clearly uncomfortable, so you stop pushing. 

“Do you like it?”

“The people I work with are great,” he says.

Not exactly an answer. 

“Well, that’s good,” you say, adjusting your grip on your purse. Leon opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by the sound of a jaunty ringtone. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, quickly pulling a cellphone out of his jacket pocket. He frowns when he sees the caller I.D. “Uh, one sec, I have to take this.”

He steps away to answer the phone, and you watch him for a bit, wondering if you should leave. But you can’t bring yourself to. You’ve only just met him again, and just like in college, he fascinates you. But this time, a little over a decade later, there’s so much more to him. Not just physically, though he’s certainly bulked up a bit over the years, but there’s a darkness and mystery to him that excites you. Besides, what woman hasn’t fantasized about reconnecting with the one that got away? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Leon approaching you again. He looks apologetic. “I have to run,” he says. “I’m sorry. But it was really nice to see you again!”

You don’t want him to leave! You want to keep talking to him! You want to know if he’s happy, if he’s got a wife or a girlfriend, if he still likes listening to metal, if chocolate icecream is still his go to flavor.

But he’s already walking away.

“Leon, wait!” you call. “Before you go!” 

He turns and you reach into your purse and pull out one of your business cards. He takes it with his left hand and peers at it. There's no ring on his finger.

“What’s this for?” he asks

“Just in case you need legal advice,” you joke. “Or if you just want to catch up.”

He smiles and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. You catch a glimpse of some sort of badge as he tucks the card carefully inside. “I’ll do that,” he says, and then he's gone.

You settle into your temporary office and log into your computer to begin going through case files. It's humdrum work, but necessary for the success of your client's appeal. But, not five minutes into this, your work phone starts ringing.

Expecting either your boss or a paralegal, you pick it up and introduce yourself by name.

“Uh, whoa,” says the person on the other end. “That was fancy and professional.”

You'd know that voice anywhere.

“Leon?”

He laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, hi. How're you doing?”

You lean back in your seat and twirl the phone cord around your finger, a bashful smile spreading across your face. “Well, not much has changed in the last 20 minutes, to be honest. But it's nice to hear your voice again.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. “You, too. I hope I'm not interrupting something.”

“You're not,” you assure him. “Although I'm not technically supposed to take personal calls on this line.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” he replies. “But this is the only way I could really contact you.”

“Oh yeah?” You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. “And what was so urgent that you just had to call me?”

There's rustling on the other end, Leon must be switching the phone to his other ear. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, like he's nervous. Your heartbeat speeds up in anticipation. 

“Well,” he says. “I was just thinking how nice it was to talk to you again. I was hoping we could do that again. Soon. Maybe over coffee?”

It takes all your willpower not to squeal like a teenager. But you're a professional. 

You clear your throat and try to act nonchalant. “Coffee sounds nice.”

“Great!” Leon sounds thrilled. “It's a date!”

“A date?” you tease.

“Uh… I mean… only if you want it to be,” he hurries to clarify. “You still have your maiden name on your business card and I didn’t see a ring, so I assumed— fuck, do you have a boyfriend?”

He meant a date date. You feel a thrill of excitement.

“No,” you say quickly, “no boyfriend. No fiance or husband either… I’m single.”

“Oh, good,” he says, and you almost laugh at how relieved he sounds. “I don’t have any of those either.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend or husband?”

“No wife or girlfriend, either.”

Oh, so he’s got jokes now. You giggle again. God, when was the last time a man had you laughing like this?

“I'm only in D.C. for the summer,” You explain. “Just until the case is over. I don't know many places to get coffee.”

“Well, you're in luck,” he says. “Because I do! I know the perfect place!”

The coffeeshop he recommends is a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place with the best espresso you've had in years. You and Leon plan for only an hour at most, but stay there chatting for nearly two. He even walks you to your car, and as you drive away, watching him wave goodbye in the rearview mirror, you realize that you had done most of the talking. At first, you want to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. Everyone always says that you talk too much, and there you went, yammering away…

But Leon had asked me out again, the other half of your brain pipes up. And he never disliked you talking in the past!

Emboldened by this realization, and determined to eek more information out of Leon next time, you continue on your way.

And so, one coffee date turns into two, then three. Reconnecting with Leon is… it's just amazing. He's older now, hardened by life in a way you can't quite fathom, but he's still so handsome and sweet and attentive. You can forgive his slightly awkward mannerisms and weird schedule and how cagey he is about his job. The first point is nothing new, of course, it's part of what charmed you in the first place, all those years ago. The weird schedule you chalk up to his job, and if it really is government stuff, you can understand why he's so secretive.

Of course, he can't stop you from daydreaming about what his job is, and your imagination thinks up all sorts of dashing occupations. Secret Service, CIA, FBI, Homeland Security… It's fun to imagine him as the dashing hero, leaping in to save the President himself from an assassination or single-handedly stopping a foreign spy organization. He probably looks hot as hell in a fancy suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece.

Coffee dates are nice and all, but you find yourself wanting more. You hint at it a fee times, Leon is oblivious as ever, so you ask him directly. 

“We should get dinner,” you say, pausing by your car. Leon has walked you out to it, just like he always does after your coffee dates. “Somewhere romantic.”

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. He's quiet for a second, staring back. 

“I thought you liked coffee?” He asks, looking like he thinks he's seriously misjudged the situation. You just laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“I do!” You assure him. “But I also like pasta and wine.”

Leon looks relieved. “Oh. Well, I do know a good Italian place!”

You beam. “Yeah? Is it nice?”

“Very,” he assures you. “Very hard to get into, but I can pull some strings.” He winks. “Perks of the job.”

You aren't sure if he's joking or not, but you like the idea of it, at least. 

“Exciting,” you giggle, leaning close to him. “Should we go this weekend?”

Leon's face falls. “I can't do this weekend,” he admits.

“That's okay!” You're quick to reassure him. “We can do next! Or the one after.”

“No, next weekend is perfect,” he says, looking relieved. “I'll have to make a reservation, but I'll call you, okay?”

You let out an excited squeal and throw your arms around Leon's neck, kissing him before you can think.

This is the first time you've kissed since— well, since you broke up the first time. You almost pull away, but Leon cups the back of your neck and kisses back.

He's a better kisser than he used to be, that's for sure, and the whole thing leaves you breathless and weak-kneed. 

He grins at your dazed expression, licking his lips and looking very pleased with himself.

“Next weekend, then?”

You reach up to wipe away a smear of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Next weekend,” you agree.

Leon promises to pick you up at 7 PM on Friday night. The two of you text back and forth almost nonstop as the night approaches, exchanging phone calls whenever possible. You're so excited that you even pick out your outfit days in advance.

Then, one day, the communication from Leon just… stops.

It's a day before your date, so you try not to worry too much. Something probably came up. But you find yourself checking your phone almost obsessively. No reply.

You push down your worry and get yourself ready for the date. You choose your favorite set of lingerie to wear under your little black dress, just in case, and probably spend way too long on your makeup.

Nonetheless, you're ready a good hour before he's scheduled to pick you up. You wait nervously for an hour, pacing your hotel room, then snap a picture of yourself to send to him. No answer. By 7:20 PM you're furious with him. By 7:45, you're in tears.

At 8 PM, you're pissed AND crying and a knock sounds at your door. You tear it open, ready to give Leon a piece of your mind, but stop in your tracks. 

Leon looks like shit. He's wearing a rumpled suit and his hair is a mess. Deep shadows show under his eyes, a bruise is forming on the left side of his jaw, and his chin is covered in three day old stubble.

He thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your arms.

All your anger drains out of you, all at once, replaced with concern.

“What *happened*?!” You blurt. Leon flushes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, like he's been yelling for twelve hours straight. “It was a work thing.”

He scratches the back of his head and the movement raises his rumpled shirt, allowing you to see the ugly yellow-purple of a bruise on his hip. 

“A work thing?” You prompt.

He winces. “I can't… tell you.”

What the hell?

“What do you mean you can't tell me?”

“I mean I can't tell you!” He snaps, his eyes darkening for a second. “Okay?”

You can't help but flinch and Leon's shoulders slump when he catches it. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I just… can't.”

You wonder if he can't or won't… but you don't press it. 

“You want to come in?” You ask softly.

“I thought we had a dinner reservation?” He asked, glancing at his watch.

“We did,” you say. “But you're an hour late. We missed it.”

Leon, somehow, looks even more forlorn at those words. “I'm sorry,” he says again. “I was in a different timezone, I didn't reset my watch and—”

“Leon.” You interrupt the beginnings of a spiral with a firm voice. “It's fine.”

You step back from the door and wave him inside. “Come on. I want to put these flowers in water.”

Leon shuffles in after you. He stands there, in the tiny entryway, and looks around your hotel room, shoving his hands in his pockets. You don't really have a vase for the flowers, come to think of it. Fancy hotels like this come with all sorts of amenities, but vases are not one of them. You waver for a moment, before grabbing the complimentary ice bucket and filling it with water from the bathroom sink.

Leon watches silently as you arrange the flowers, before speaking up.

“I should have brought a vase, too,” he says. “Sorry. I didn't think—”

You smile at him. “Hey, don't worry. It seems like you have a lot on your mind.”

He cracks a wry smile. “You're telling me.”

With the tension leaking away, you lean forward and smell a rose.

“Are they still your favorite?” He asks.

“I'm sorry?”

Leon gestures toward the bouquet. “Pink roses. Are they still your favorite flower?”

Honestly, pink roses haven't been your favorite flower since college… but the fact that Leon remembered that they were immediately bumps them up to number one once more.

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

And Leon beams. 

You don’t notice him approach you until his hand smooths down your back. You turn to look up at him, taking in his tired eyes and apologetic expression. You wonder again what his job is, and then wonder if you really want to know. Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“I’m sorry for missing our date,” he says softly. “Let me make it up to you.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” you murmur, turning fully to face him. “Or next week, if that doesn’t work out.”

“Sure,” he replies, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “But I was thinking of doing something a little more… immediate.”

He bends to kiss you, tender and slow, and you let yourself lean into it. Leon always kisses you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing in existence, he touches you like he’s afraid you’ll break, and you know he means it. You know that you matter to him.

You’re breathing heavily when the two of you finally part. Leon pulls back slowly, his eyes searching your face, looking a little shy but also a little proud of himself. He licks his lips, glances past you at the bed, then meets your eyes again.

“Wanna move this over there?” he asks, gesturing toward it with his head. Your heart skips a beat with anticipation. 

“Sounds good,” you breathe.

That night, you fall asleep in Leon’s arms, well and truly satisfied in a way you haven’t been in a long time. He’s clearly more experienced and more confident than the boy you slept with in college, but he’s still him. Still adoring, still attentive, still a little shy. 

He pretty much lets you take the lead the whole night and while he doesn’t say it outright, you get the impression that he just wants to be taken care of. If you notice tears in his eyes at the end, you don’t comment on it and neither does he.

He drops off soon after you finish, lying on his back like a soldier. You watch him for a few minutes, admiring the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose, the dimple in his chin and the moles on his neck. There’s a scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before, a thin white line nearly hidden by his stubble. You wonder how he got it. Probably doing something heroic, knowing him. You fall asleep entertaining little fantasies of Leon being a hero and saving the day.

You're awoken by Leon stirring in the bed next to you. You don't worry too much. You're a light sleeper after all.

You puff your pillow and get comfy again. Behind you, Leon stirs again, a soft groan escaping him.

You roll over, a little concerned. He has his arm slung over his face, but you can see a frown on his lips. He's breathing heavily, but you don't want to wake him up if you don't have to. He looked so exhausted when he came here earlier. It's probably nothing. You close your eyes again, but another soft groan from Leon has you opening them again.

You push up on one elbow, a little frown on your face. He's probably dreaming about something, but you can't tell if it's good or bad. His arm drops off his face, his fingers balling in the sheets. 

“No…” He mumbles. “Please…”

A nightmare, then. You sit up fully and reach for him, but before you can touch him, Leon flings out his arm, inadvertently smacking your hand away, and cries, “Ashley, no!”

Ashley? Who the hell is that?

You shake your head. Now is not the time for that, not with Leon in the midst of a night terror.

You reach out again, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a harsh shake.

“Leon!”

He doesn't wake right away, his head tossing side to side and his face screwed up.

You try again.

“Leon! Wake up!”

Leon jerks upright and the world spins sideways, your back hitting the bed with a thump and all the air rushing out of you. A weight presses down on you, arms pinned above your head.

You glimpse Leon above you and faintly register that the force across your neck and shoulders is his forearm. He doesn't seem to see you, even though his blue eyes are wide with terror.

“Leon?” You croak out.

“Fuck,” he gasps, suddenly seeing you. “Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You're able to catch your breath again as Leon scrambles off you and through the ringing in your ears you hear him stumbling around the room. You sit up just as the bathroom door slams closed.

Behind it, you hear retching.

You don't know what to do. You sit shell-shocked in the bed, surrounded by rumpled blankets and pillows and stare at the thin strip of light shining from beneath the bathroom door. You rub your hand over your sore clavicle.

What on earth was that? Why would Leon react like that after being woken up from a nightmare? And who the hell is Ashley? It was like Leon didn't even see you when he woke up, like he was stuck somewhere else, living through something horrible. What has he gone through in these ten years you've been apart? Does it have anything to do with his beat up appearance earlier? With the scars you noticed on his body? Did this Ashley have something to do with it? 

Bzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzt

You're torn out of your that's by Leon's cellphone, vibrating on the bedside table. Jesus Christ, who calls at— you check the alarm clock next to the bed— 4 AM?

You untangle yourself from the covers and pick up the phone. Should you answer it? Leon doesn't seem to be coming out anytime soon and it seems urgent enough that the caller is attempting to reach him in the middle of the night.

You lick your lips nervously and flip open the phone, raising it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Where's Leon?” The voice on the other end demands. It's female. “Who are you?”

You want to ask the same thing, but you're the one answering a phone that isn't yours. You introduce yourself and the woman on the other end blows out a sigh.

“Oh,” she says bluntly. She clearly knows who you are even if Leon has never mentioned her to you. “Well, can you give Leon the phone? It's urgent.

She doesn't have to sound so annoyed!

“Sure,” you say, sliding off the bed. “Who should I say is calling?”

“April.”

Not the mysterious Ashley, then. That makes you feel marginally better for some reason. 

You pad over to the bathroom and knock on the door.

“Leon? Your phone rang.”

“...Let it go to voicemail,” he mumbles hoarsely from the other side. Oops.

“I already picked up for you,” you reply sheepishly, feeling for all the world like you've made a massive blunder. “It's someone named April?”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles, and the door swings open. In the harsh fluorescent lights he looks like a fucking mess, far worse than he did earlier than night. You can clearly see the bruises, cuts, and scars on his naked torso. His hair is rumpled, his hairline beaded with sweat. He barely meets your eyes, just takes the phone ever so gently from your hand and raises it to his ear.

“Hey, April…” He says tiredly.

You can't hear what she says in reply but you don't want to leave Leon alone, either. He looks like he's about to fall apart for God's sake. You lean against the doorframe and study him. 

You can't stand the way he's hunched in on himself like he's trying to make himself look smaller than he is and the exhausted, defeated tone in his voice makes your heart ache.

“Okay,” he whispers into the phone. “Okay. I'll be there.”

You're pulled out of your contemplation as he snaps the cellphone shut, looking up into his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?”

He grunts noncommittally. “I gotta go.”

Go? At 4 AM? Where?!

“What?!”

Leon scoots past you cautiously, not even meeting your eyes.

“Work,” he mumbles.

You turn, staring at his back incredulously as he pulls on his pants and shirt. “What do you mean work?” You challenge.

“Something came up.”

He doesn't turn toward you so you're left staring at the stiff line of his shoulders as he buttons up his shirt. 

Some random woman calls him in the middle of the night and he's immediately running at her beck and call? Something like jealousy rears its ugly head.

“Who's April?” You ask, not liking the nasty tone in your voice. 

Leon doesn't react. “A friend,” he says vaguely, pulling on his suit jacket.

“A friend calling at 4 AM about work,” you say disbelievingly. “Right.”

That gets a reaction. Leon turns to face you fully and the defeated look on his face immediately tosses all your jealousy and anger out the window. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I wish I didn't have to go.”

You cross the room and pull him into a hug, resting your head on his chest. Leon clings to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, and rocks you side to side. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, then Leon lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“I have to go,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I'll call you as soon as I can and I'll make it up to you, I promise. Anything you want, I'll do it for you.”

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “I want you to be careful.”

He nods. “I can do that.”

“And I want you to take me out on a proper date when you're back,” you add, smiling a little to show you're not too serious. But Leon nods determinedly. “Got it. One proper date, coming up. It'll be awesome.”

He cups your face in his hands and ducks his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

“See you soon,” he promises, then he's gone.

You watch him walk down the hall, away from you, and can't help but feel like he's walking out of your life, too.

Taglist: @hiya-itsamber

[starrystevie]

"it's a vhs night, huh?" eddie asks as he comes out of the kitchen, two mugs of decaf coffee in one hand, a box of oreos in the other. steve's on his knees in front of the tv with tapes scattered around him, a mixture of home movies and mashed up concert recordings and episodes of star trek that are bound to get recorded over eventually. he turns around as his husband enters the living room and opens his mouth for a cookie that eddie happily feeds him.

"yeah, why not?" he gives eddie a half smile that makes the crows feet around his eyes crinkle even more. "just feeling nostalgic, i guess."

eddie hums and sits on his end of the couch before pulling one foot up to cross over his knee. he takes a sip of the bitter black coffee and dunks an oreo in to soften it up then pops it into his mouth. steve finally settles on a video and rewinds it to the start, curling up on his side of the cushions with his feet tucked under eddie's thigh. a hand finds its way around his ankle and a thumb strokes at the soft skin it can find. gentle, comforting, home.

the grainy picture on the screen straightens out and the sound clicks on along with it. the greens of the grass are a little faded and the blue of the sky is dull but it's still clear enough to make out steve on the swings at the park down the road from loch nora. steve's mom is behind the camera yelling for him to pump your legs, good job stevie, there you go, wow you're going so high and the grin on the boy's face is a wide as the sky above him.

"you were so cute, what happened?" eddie murmurs with a chuckle causing steve to slap at the thigh currently warming his feet.

"i'm still cute, thank you very much." steve grumbles out his response which makes eddie chuckle again, leaning over with a groan to smash a kiss to his cheek.

there's little voices echoing in the background as steve continues to swing and the video switches suddenly to him on a red check blanket eating a sandwich. he has jelly on his cheek in the same place that eddie had placed a kiss not a minute earlier and it has them both cooing like the old men they are.

but then there's a flash of something in the background. a little kid runs by followed by what's presumably his mother and it distracts little steve, who turns on his blanket to watch the two running.

"is that...?" steve starts, turning to eddie who's staring at the screen with rapt attention. the gasp he gets in return is the only answer he could possibly need. the hand around his ankle gets a little tighter and he watches as a watery smile spreads across eddie's face, salt-and-pepper beard crinkling up on his cheeks.

"that's me, that's-" he breathes out, curling in on himself slightly to peer closer at the video. in the video, steve's still staring at the little boy in the park getting picked up by his mom and being thrown in the air. his little giggles break through the speakers as his mom catches him, cradling him to her chest as she runs off screen. they come back into frame a few seconds later and crash side-by-side onto the grass. their arms start pointing at the sky like they're finding shapes in the clouds and eddie inhales sharply. "-that's my mom."

steve reaches down and clasps his hand around eddie's where it's still on his bony ankle, trailing his fingers over his husband's. eddie looks up and tosses a bewildered grin at steve who catches it easily and returns it with one of his own. as if they have magnets stored in their hearts from where the universe made them for each other, the two move closer to one another instinctually until they have arms around waists and fingers tangled together and heads on shoulders.

they sit in silence for the next few minutes, reliving a time when they were still boys with their mothers, happy and loved, not even knowing their soulmate was right next to them.

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[moonlightdreamzz]

kill bill

part one part two

you return back to korea one year after you and hyunjin broke up, only to find out he has replaced you. how could he replace you?

→ g: all of it. the pain, the sexy, the happiness. angstsmutfluff! <3

🎧 ➤ kill bill by sza

warning! you’re a heartbroken bitter ex girlfriend here, although for a valid reason. party environment! mentions of (w**d) and alcohol, language, and infidelity!

Everyone who is partying seems to be having a great time thanks to the Migos music that is playing. Together with the sound of feet leaping up and down, you can also hear recognizable voices trying to shout over the music. Everyone is singing together, but you can't help but scrunch up your face

You're stopped on the toilet, your heart racing as you rest your face in your palms, emulating Hyunjin's pose before interfering with his moment. You're not sure who will break the hush. You want to snort because this is all too familiar. This petty quiet game had devoured your relationship in the latter days of your and Hyunjin's relationship—you not speaking out owing to your misunderstanding over when the two of you became this pair, and Hyunjin always preferring the silent treatment over voicing what was troubling him.

Hyunjin takes a big breath before swiftly exhaling. He stands up and hands you the toilet paper from the top of their marble-topped sink. "Take it," he says quietly, and you quickly comply, wiping your sensitive parts freely as he faces the door.

All you can see is his muscular back, which appears to have become leaner from what you can see, and his blonde hair, which he opted to be down today. He was usually complaining about the headaches he had from wearing his hair up for an extended period of time.

Right now, you don't feel like yourself, but perhaps that's for the best. You quickly flush the toilet and then proceed to the sink to wash your hands. There wasn't much room to maneuver in this bathroom because it isn't particularly big. You are compelled to rest your left hip on Hyunjin's thin waist since he is still standing still.

You have no idea why he hasn't exited the restroom. A number of delusions were racing through your disordered mind, your major idea being that he must still be as madly in love with you as you are with him, and that this would be the scene in the film where you both declare how much you need each other. You can almost taste it: the two of you weeping your eyes out while making love in this restroom. It wouldn't be the first time this happened.

You pause for a split second after wiping your hands on the beautiful towel before speaking.

"Are you sure you're not going to talk to me? I had no idea you were so afraid to approach people.” Although it is a falsehood, you are aware that doing the right thing will not result in the solutions you need.

This time, you weren't very adept at guessing what was going through Hyunjin's mind. His body language is the only glance you get, and it doesn't reveal much. You start to look for his typical signs of annoyance, such as disordered breathing, shaking heads, and fidgeting with the hem of his jeans to pass the time, but none of those things are happening. He is simply standing.

He whispers, "Shut up," and doesn't turn around. It's strange since his tone is the furthest thing from sharp, despite the fact that his words are. It may best be described as defeated. but not in the manner you desire. Not in a manner that would force him to leave the party holding your hand, disregarding what anyone else has to say. no…Guilt is the cause. It's unfortunate. It's embarrassing. You're at a loss for words.

“What?”

He continues, "Shut up."

“I'll stop talking when you look at me.” He ignores your threat and stands still. "Wow, you guys are all big and bad now, huh? Wow, Hyunjin. Have you got that feeling from your new bitch? Huh!” You start to speak louder.

You don't typically lose your cool in this way, but you can't help it. The level of scorn you are currently experiencing can only be fully understood by those whose hearts have been utterly broken. The man who once pledged to sacrifice his life for you will not even meet your eyes. Devastation has now replaced the blood that was previously rushing through your veins, and when devastation is the only thing keeping your heart beating, you completely lose control. You care not who hears. You pray that she is listening in on the conflict that you know is about to blow out inside these four walls from behind the door.

you usually never lose your temper like this, but you can’t control yourself. only the people who have gotten their hearts completely shattered can understand how scorned you feel right now. the man who used to say he would die for you won’t even look you in the eye. the blood running through your veins has now become devastation, and when devastation is the only thing keeping your heart pumping, you fucking lose control. you don’t care who hears. you hope she’s behind the door eavesdropping on the argument you know is about to explode behind these four walls.

“Answer me!" You yell. The music is loud, and the guests are still singing, but you can tell that folks nearby are starting to wonder who is in here. "What is it about her? Is she more beautiful than I am? Smarter? Lighter? You don't get to do this to me and then ignore—

Hyunjin has seized you with his thin hands and pushed you against the door before you can finish your sentence. Even though it is unplanned, your body thumps into it loudly, ruining what you know is supposed to be a covert reunion.

His eyes are moist and crimson, eyes you haven't been able to lose yourself in for a year. He is sobbing silently while his eyes are streaming with tears as they look directly into your soul. His eyes should have softened like they did when you first entered this room, but they don't.

Despite the fact that you two have always maintained that such things do not exist, perhaps he truly is your twin flame. Suddenly, the anguish, disappointment, and rage overwhelm you, making it difficult for you to breathe and causing your tears to fall exactly like his. But you can't just let them fall silently. You can't stop crying, even when Hyunjin's arms slink around your waist. Your sobbing is loud and unrestrained.

You are despised. "I hate you." You sob. How much you adore him, you detest. You hate that he broke your heart, and when you saw him on the floor, instead of going the restroom and running away, you couldn't keep it together and ended up in his arms as you always do.

Hyunjin is not feeling well. Seeing you sob like this makes him sick to his stomach. He can only blame himself. He wishes to tell you that he despises himself, but that would be too simple. He thought he'd finally found more than two words to say to you, but it's as if your anguish is flowing from you to him skin to skin.

But he has to hold it together.

“You hate me, huh?” He chuckles through he tears. “You know, Y/N? I hate you too.” He lies. You always act like you’re the only one hurt. Like you’re the only one who felt shit during this!”

“Because that’s what it feels like you asshole! Do you hear yourself right now? You broke up with me! You said all of these sweet loads of bullshit to me! You are the one who tried to make me feel like maybe we could be together again, just for you to move on! The one thing you swore you could never do! How do you think that’s made me feel!”

“Everybody says that during a breakup!” He finally screams back.

Never once had he ever yelled at you. All of this seemed like a terrifying nightmare. Was the whole thing a lie? Months prior, you had been asking yourself that question, but you dismissed it as a fiction of your insecure mind. Why did his tears match yours if he actually despised you and if all of his promises had been empty gestures?

He can tell you're having trouble breathing right now because of how violently you're hiccupping from weeping. Seeing you acting so sensitively on his behalf is such an unusual sight. You were great at demonstrating your compassion for others, but it never happened in situations like this. Even after the breakup, the way you handled it gave the impression that you didn't give a damn if he didn't know you inside and out.

Your remarks and the way you viewed him as your sensitive spot—what he was to you—were what made them profound. You currently have the same expression in your eyes, but it's mingled with terrible perplexity and grief. He made two promises to himself that he would never carry out. Didn't you go through enough already? However, there he was.

Tell her the truth.

“Baby…” he finally mutters. Your wet eyes immediately soften at the sound of your favorite name to be called by him. His gentle hand caresses your soft, brown skin. “Let me expla—

Knock knock knock!

“Hyunjin.�� From behind the door, a small voice can be heard. Hyunjin and you both recognize the voice as coming from her, however neither of you can explain how you were able to hear her. You don't need to know how she appears because you don't know. She was the kind of woman that all the men in this place coveted.

You chuckle, a sole tear running down your eye.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

Hyunjin seems to have frozen over once more. He is now wondering if this is how God intended it since he keeps getting cut off when he starts to explain why he left you, the love of his life.

All of the late nights where he was having anxiety attacks only you could soothe and went to call you, his service would go out, or he would be summoned to a late night practice.

Everytime he was in the midst of writing you a letter, Bang Chan would come in, demanding him to “let it go” as it was “for the betterment of the group”

Leah, who was madly in love with him and on the other side of the door was shameful. The fact that it was brutally evident that his heart was somewhere else, yet she ignored it, was the final straw. She is literally a hired girlfriend from the company. She is aware. Bangchan is aware. Everyone is aware. You are the owner of Hyunjin. Every part of him. You were the only thing left in his heart. Without you in his life to fuel him up and pick up on all of the subtle intricacies he put into his actions, even dancing no longer brought him much joy.

Hyunjin was tired of running. But he was willing to do it one more time.

“Do you trust me?” He questions. He knows what you’re answer will be.

You have no idea what is going on right now. Hyunjin moved from being apologetic to declaring his hatred for you, to pretending he had a reason for his conduct, to now this. What exactly is going on? What was he going to say?

He doesn't have time to wait for a response from you. He is aware that your mind is concocting bizarre interpretations about his acts. He would lose all confidence if another 30 seconds passed.

“This is all fake.”

It’s as if the weight of the world dropped off of his body.

“What?” You utter.

“Her, our break up, I never wanted any of it.” He didn’t know his honesty would cause him to feel so weak inside.

You can feel the way his body is shaking. You know it’s only a mere couple of seconds before he collapses on the ground. Your hands are now cupping his face into your hands, holding him afloat just as you always did. In this moment, nothing makes sense except for the fact that you two were finally on the same page again after months of being lost without eachother.

You've noticed that the music has started to shout into Hyunjin's ear. This is what happened when he became overwhelmed by his surroundings. He's trying to concentrate by blocking his ears.

“We need to run.” He utters. “Take my hand. I love you, Y/N. I know none of this makes sense but if we can just get out of here I’ll explain everything. You just have to trust me. And I know that’s a hard thing to ask—

You ultimately decide to stop questioning him and start doing as he says since you can tell he's becoming anxious. Leah is in agonizing astonishment when she finds you and Hyunjin holding hands next to each other as Hyunjin suddenly regains control of his body and swings open the door.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin.” She squeals.

“Don’t what the fuck him.” You speak firmly

“What she said.” Is all Hyunjin mutters before squeezing your hand tightly and pulling you through the drunken dazed crowd, pushing her out of the way in the process.

The way everything is unfolding makes you feel as though you are watching a movie. Hyunjin is passionate as he shoves people aside to rush to the entrance, and you're moving so quickly that you can't even stop to look at their expressions.

The music is still blaring, and a song from earlier begins to play, causing you to practically black out.

I'm still a fan even though I was salty

Hate to see you with some other broad, know you happy

Hate to see you happy if I'm not the one driving

Finally, you and Hyunjin exit through the door to the empty outside. The music, which once more seems to be absent, gives the impression that nobody else is present. You eventually lock eyes with one other for the first time without any pain involved, like if there is no one else on the globe save the two of you.

Hyunjin is helpless to stop. As soon as he pulls you up, you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to kiss you on the lips. The emotions that are coursing through his body are so intense that he feels as though his entire body wants to give way. At the same time, he feels joy, hurt, and remorse. He has no idea how he survived without your love for even a day.

You don't either, and it doesn't really matter right now. The fact that you are back in his arms is all that matters. Later, you'll have to kick yourself for not being more critical of him.

“I’m sorry. I’ll explain it all. I swear.” He says in between kisses.

You and Hyunjin make out as heavier thunder rumbles through the area. He again grabs your hand and pulls you to the parking lot as you both giggle together. Both of you don't seem to mind that your boots and his sneakers are drenched in water from the puddles as you run together.

He starts the car from a distance, opens the door for you like the gentleman you knew him to be, then clambers onto the driver's side and quickly accelerates away. He pulls quickly, giving the rest of the perplexed group a swerving decipher from as he can't help but touch you with his lips and an empty hand.

Hyunjin switches on the radio as the two of you drive down the freeway, and you quickly realize that it is the same station that was playing during the party. The two of you are still traveling to your favorite park in the midst of the storm, singing along to SZA's sly but true words as Hyunjin's lips are pressed against your own.

I did it all for love (love)

I did it all of this on no drugs (drugs)

I did all of this sober

Don't you know I did it all for us?

Who would’ve known this would be Hyunjin’s line to sing by the end of the night.

authors note: I know I took forever to get this out. i don’t even know if this is still wanted. if you guys want the full truth in another part, let me know!

© 2023 moonlightdreamzz. no one has permission to steal my work in any way, shape, or form.

taglist

@https-skzology

@multeciahucho

@hyujinnie1

@xh-josii

@itszerotwoo

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A05 - Healthy Party

*continuous typing*

Momiji: …

Yukikaze: … Momiji…

Momiji: ……

Yukikaze: You're frighteningly concentrated, so I was holding my tongue while watching you, but - I can't take it anymore.

Please answer me. What happened?

Just what work do you need to complete so badly that you're making such a demonic expression…!

Kafka: Sigh. You don't need to be so weirdly worried.

They said they'd quickly finish a "thorough and easy to understand proposal with no room for wisecracks", then quickly return to the school to get revenge on those cute kids.

Yukikaze: …I see, so that's it.

Kafka: This Chief-chan is great. They're full of energy, or forcefulness, perhaps. I like it♪

Yukikaze: Right, I agree. At times like this, Chief's vigour is like mapo tofu with Sichuan pepper.

Kafka: You never change, can't you do something about those idiotic comparisons?

Momiji: ……

Yukikaze: …

Kafka: …

*door opens*

Ten: Wow~ …such pleasant expressions. Don't you feel like two parents watching their kid play with building blocks?

*door opens*

Renga: Hey… …ah, T-Ten. Didn't know you'd be coming to the office!

Ten: Renga-san, hey.

Renga: Um, if you want, when we leave today, how about we… visit a bar together? I'm in your debt from when we went to your sushi restaurant before, so…!

Ten: Oh. Are you gonna treat me, Renga-san? Sure thing~

Liguang: …I could hear some kind of hitting sound coming from outside the door, is it your doing, Momiji?

Momiji: ……

Liguang: …You're not listening at all.

*typing stops*

Momiji: President. What is the judgement criteria for the Tourism Ward Mayor candidates.

Kafka: I'll leave that to you.

Momiji: Understood.

*typing starts again*

Momiji: ……

Renga: Hey, what on earth is Chief doing?

Kafka: Seems like Chief-chan got kinda messed up because of some Asu-High students, so they're in work demon mode.

Renga: Asu-High? …Right, that takes me back.

Liguang: For Tourism Ward Mayors, they said? …Dealing with brats is troublesome.

*typing stops*

Momiji: It's done…! Now to dash back to the school-

Sakujiro: The school gates have already been closed.

Momiji: Huh…

*crows cawing*

Sakujiro: As it's the day before Summer break, it seems the gates were closed earlier than usual.

Momiji: N-no way… Even though I decided I'd definitely redeem myself…!

Sakujiro: No. I believe it's still too soon to draw a conclusion. This very day, for the purpose of going all out with celebration before Summer break-

The Student Council President, Kuraku Yumenosuke, is hosting a large scale house party that all ten thousand students are invited to.

Momiji: What!

Sakujiro: Don't you suppose the students in question will be attending too? Perhaps it would be worth taking a look.

Momiji: That's right! Absolutely!

Sakujiro: Then please, put this on posthaste.

Momiji: What are these clothes?

Sakujiro: There seems to be a dress code for participation. This time, the theme is "clothes that look like they're from a young adult movie"-

For this day, Saku-me* has poured his heart into sewing this stitch by stitch.

Ten: Huh, it's hand made? Cool.

Momiji: Thank you so much!

Kafka: Get changed in five minutes. I'll call a car right now. …Be careful, and take care.

Yukikaze: Go without regrets. I'll be waiting with your favourite dinner.

Renga: I don't really get what's happening, but… don't overdo it!

Momiji: Thanks, everyone! I'll be off!

Momiji: Amazing… this isn't the level I'd expect from a student's house party.

There's a night pool, a DJ booth, even a counter bar. Though, obviously they're not serving alcohol…

Look, there's so many people in black suits. The security's flawless.

Sakujiro: The Kuraku family are elites of the political world, after all.

The large garden parties frequently held here are famous in various circles.

Momiji: Right, I've got it. So if it's a place like this, those five will definitely be here.

-For now, I'll try asking around.

Sakujiro: Certainly. I'll be back later, then.

---

Student A: Huh… Isotake? You mean that dangerous guy who's rumoured to be complicit in murder?

Student B: There's no reason to call those guys here. Who knows what'd happen if we did.

---

Student C: Kurama? He's got bad vibes, no one goes near him…

Student D: By Kaguya, do you mean the helmet-wearing Student Council Vice President? I hear he's so beautiful he has a fanclub, but I always thought he was a dangerous guy.

---

Student E: That guy called Kinugawa, I didn't know about him. Nanamegi, though, he's handsome and well-known, so I'd heard of him.

Student F: No one wants to approach Nanaki-kun after that happened. It's really a waste, he was so popular. If you're hanging out with those guys, probably best you stop.

---

Momiji: (Those kids don't have a very good reputation, huh…)

(That "incident" certainly left a lasting impression. If I'd just looked into it properly…)

??: Excuse me! You over there!

Momiji: Y-yes!

??: You're the one searching for those five heinous criminals, correct?

Momiji: He-heinous criminals?

Yumenosuke: Nice to meet you. I'm the Student Council President of Hama Asunaro High School, Kuraku Yumenosuke. Thank you for being here today.

Momiji: Ah, right… sorry to bother you.

Yumenosuke: As our school posseses a student body of ten thousand, I believe strong friendships between students are essential-

Today's party is for assistance in social mingling, however! At the same time, it functions as a place to cultivate a sound mind in the students, and what's more! For the peace of mind of their guardians, each and every area-

Is guarded by our notoriously strong staff, who have helped protect and nurture the Kuraku family since my great-grandfather's time.

In regards to you, who is searching for those heinous criminals, by all means, I would be tremendously grateful if you could quietly watch over the healthy growth of our youth!

Momiji: (I didn't ask, and yet he exposited so many things…!)

(Now that he mentions it, those strong-looking black suited guys are staring at me. I suppose it's natural that I'd be considered a suspicious person…)

Sorry for the late introduction. This is who I am.

Yumenosuke: A business card…! Thank you for your consideration. Hmhm… the Regional Revitalisation Club's…

I see, so you were an advisor!

Momiji: Yes. My reason for being at this party is linked to my work.

Yumenosuke: …I see, so that's the situation, I understand! It was of my own arbitrary discretion that I doubted your position, sincerest apologies for that!

Black-Suited Staff: Sincerest apologies!

Momiji: No, as long as you understand now then…

Yumenosuke: I'm thankful for you being lenient with me. However… before you return to your search, would you mind putting up with my nonsense for just a little longer?

Momiji: Uh, alright…

Yumenosuke: I had a Student Council Vice President who I put my trust in. I used to believe that whatever life had in store for me, our mutual trust would never be shaken, but-

He completely betrayed my expectations! On that night, one month ago!

The old school building… a building of cultural heritage symbolising its era, where my father - now a cabinet member - studied… was blown up, unbelievable as it is!

Colluding with four hooligans whose corrupted souls are of the same level as his own!

Momiji: (B-blown up…!? I see, that's the "certain incident"…)

Yumenosuke: Among them were people admired by the other students - but now, they are all Rank One.

Student A: Rank One means they're the lowest rank, y'know.

Momiji: (There's that "Rank" talk again…)

Yumenosuke: You over there, do quiet down. Discrimination based on Ranks could invite criticism towards our school's education system.

…Nay, this too is a result of the hard work he neglected. It can't be helped that he's being slandered for his act of betrayal.

Momiji: Um, excuse me. Just what exactly do you mean by "Rank"?

Yumenosuke: Oh my, could it be that you weren't acquainted with them!

Momiji: Sorry, I've not done much research…

Yumenosuke: I shall explain it in simple terms. The ranking system is a tradition of our school.

To start, the ranks are split into five levels. Those who are studious, active in clubs, and diligent in particular are Rank Five-

Conversely, those who slack off are Rank One, giving each student an incentive to make an effort.

Those who strive the most… the Rank Fives are given appropriately favourable treatment. From the cafeteria menu to special privileges in club activities, the right to make suggestions, and above all, being the envy of all the other students. Just like myself.

And as Rank Ones are the exact opposite… I'm sure you understand without me saying any more.

Momiji: (They're treated coldly… I see.)

Yumenosuke: After hearing all that, I'm sure you understand now! Even so, do you still intend on searching for them?

Momiji: Yes, I do.

Yumenosuke: … I understand. It's important to confirm these things with your own eyes. Well then- take a glass, external advisor-san.

Everyone! In celebration of our first semester passing by safely, let's once again toast with our champagne-style carbonated drinks!

*students saying "cheers"*

Momiji: (If I was Rank One, and knew I'd be getting shunned like this-)

(I absolutely wouldn't come here. It's unpleasant.)

(Maybe it'd be best to start over and take a different approach…)

Student G: Ah! I spilled my champagne-style carbonated drink! Anyone got a tissue?

Student H: There's lots of pocket tissues over there.

Student G: I don't want to use those ones though… Feels like bad luck.

Momiji: (How on earth would a tissue feel like bad luck…)

(Hm?)

(There's an advert on the back…)

Advert: "The genius galactic movie director ISOTAKE presents a once in a lifetime screening of an ultra brand new movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Momiji: ("Isotake" meaning, Akuta-kun!? The date for it is-)

Today…!

*Sakujiro is referring to himself in third person, with "me" being a humbling suffix.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A22] Go For It!

Summary — ✈︎ Kaede feels frustrated about the fact that he couldn’t be a good teacher to the rest of the students. However, after being encouraged by Sakujiro, he decides try to do what he can. 

Characters— ✈︎ Kiroku, Nanaki, Akuta, Ushio, Sakujiro

Location: Tomioka Hachiman Shrine in Shodoshima

Kiroku: …………

Nanaki: Yo, Kinugawa-kun.

I’m on my break right now, so I thought I’d come and check out everything.

Kiroku: Oh……

Nanaki: I heard that the lanterns weren’t really finished yet. So I was thinking “Wow, I wonder what’s going on with that?”

Kiroku: …… It’s already… being displayed.

Nanaki: Ah, that one displayed over there? …… Wow.

Kiroku: ………

Nanaki: ………

Kiroku: ( ……He isn’t saying anything… He’s just staring at it…)

(I knew it… Even Nanamegi thinks… what I make is……)

Nanaki: Y’know, this lantern…

Kiroku: G… G-Gannosuke-san … said…! That…!

(Even if the lantern is incomplete, just display it as……)

ーーit…… is…!

Nanaki: Gannosuke-san said that even if the lantern is incomplete, you should just display it as it is?

Kiroku: (H-He managed to understand……)

Nanaki: I see. I agree with Gannosuke-san too. Though it’s a shame that it’s gonna get wet in the rainーー

I think it looks really cool. It looks really unique… Like, it’s one of a kind. I think it should get displayed. Actually, it’s like that thing right? You took inspiration from the design of the egg?

Kiroku: ………Eh……?

Nanaki: It’s like, a bit creepy but cute too. I like it.

Kiroku: ……!

Nanaki: Well, my break’s almost up so I’ll head back now. I’ll see you later.

Kiroku: (I got praise…d…… I got praised……)

(Wait, no, Nanamegi is different from Isotake… He’s the sociable type. He definitely was just pretending to praise me… I’m… sure of it)

( …In the first place, it’s unfinished.)

……It doesn’t matter which one is true… It doesn't hurt that much so…

Elderly Man A: Oh wow, this is not going to be good. The rain… It’s starting to drizzle here and there.

Elderly Man B: Really? … Well, I suppose it’s like the forecast said. There’s really nothing to be done. We don’t have any of those fancy weather control things out here after all.

Elderly Man A: They should’ve just announced that the event was canceled earlier… Well, I’ll start preparing right now, just in case.

Nanaki: ………

…… Hey, Andy.[1]

Andy: “Good afternoon, Nanaki. How can I help you today?”

Nanaki: It’s raining, right? Today.

Andy: “That is very troublesome. Have you prepared an umbrella?”

Nanaki: I don’t need an umbrella, so you don’t have to order one or anything. 

… I just need some advice. Just a little is fine.

Andy: “I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

Nanaki: I wanted everyone to hear the new song I made but… It’s raining.

Why do things always end up so… bitter?

Andy: “It sounds like it is due to feelings of love. The bitter feelings you’re talking about are a result of that.”

Nanaki: Nonononono! What are you saying all of a sudden? I’m not in love at all! … I’m not, right?

Andy: “Yes. You are in love.”

Nanaki: Nonono… Huh? That’s wrong right?

Andy: “It’s love.”

Nanaki: N-Noーー

Akuta: “Hey hey heeey! Incoming from the Command Center! Cadet Nanamegi, please respond immediately～！”

Nanaki: You’re so energetic, even though it’s raining. Did something happen?

Akuta: “I have a request I need to ask! I think it’s around the time that they’re going to announce that the event is getting canceledーー”

“Sooo I wanna hijack the announcements! I want my voice to get announced instead? Do you think you can do that?”

Nanaki: Hah!? What are you saying…

Andy: “That is a very bad idea, Akuta-san.”

Nanaki: Andy, shut up please.

ーー But, clearly the answer is no? I’m in charge of the sound so I could do it, but no. Rejected.

Akuta: “Why not!? Just do it! Don’t you wanna be popular!? If the summer festival is successful, we’ll all be famous y’know!”

Nanaki: ………

Akuta: “I wanna be super popular and play tag on the moon! With all the Bunny-chans and Bunny-kuns with mochi and stuff!”

Nanaki: ………

Akuta: “Hey, are you giving up already?”

Nanaki: !

Akuta: “If you keep giving up like that, your summer is gonna stay boring y’know. Not just that, that kinda attitude will make your whole life bland.”

“Okay listen up. There was this boxer[2] who drank a lotta eggs before a match, and he said this.”

“It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!”

Nanaki: Gh…… But, if something is impossible, it’s just impossible…!

The rain won’t magically stop just because I’m determined…!

Akuta: “You’re so fucking stubborn! You’re an idiot! Stupid goat!”

Nanaki: …He cut the call.

Andy: “The correct term would be ‘arrogant’ instead of ‘stubborn’.”

Nanaki: … Goodbye, Andy.

… Sighs …

………

(ーーIsn’t that a childish idea? Trying to hijack the announcements and change something.)

(It’s not realistic at all, and it might cause trouble for Chief and the rest of the staff. Of course, no one wants to cancel an event because of rain but… Even the sound of the rain hitting the tent is getting louder.)

(Yeah. It’s fine to just let things play out as they were. It’s like Kurama-kun said. There’s no use in trying our best to change things. It’d be a waste of time.)

………

I know that. I know that, but…

(Just standing around like this… It’s making me feel like something is dying…)

ーー Ugh!! Fuck!!

Akuta, you stupid son of a…!

Elderly Woman A: No, but… it’s the same for us. We prepared for this because these things were promised to be prepared for us too…

Ushio: Yes, I hate to repeat myself, but I apologize for that.

(Ugh～ This is so tedious… It’s so annoying having to repeat myself over and over.)

Elderly Woman B: It was your idea in the first place was it not? To serve baby castella.

Elderly Woman C: You advertised that it wasn’t going to be an ordinary baby castella, but a special one that is covered in a special syrup…

Ushio: I do truly apologize for that.

But I don’t believe there is any need to be so particular about it though. Just the sponge cake is delicious on its own.

(The rain is probably gonna cause the shop to close down soon anyways, so.)

Elderly Woman B: Hey you! You need to start taking responsibility for the things that you say! You’re dragging everyone around you into it too!

Ushio: That’s why I’ve been apologizing this whole time. What more can I do? We’re just high school studentsーー

Sakujiro: Please excuse me.

Elderly Woman C: Are you his chaperone?! Just what kind of education are you giving him!?

Sakujiro: I was not able to hear the entirety of the conversation just now, but it seems that he was being rude to you all, so I sincerely apologize for that.

Elderly Woman A: We came all the way over here despite having very busy schedules.

Sakujiro: It is exactly as you say. From our perspective, having just arrived from outside of this area, we can see how much effort the entire community is placing into this festival.

He himself has been working very hard to prepare for this festival in his own way, but now, looking at this rainy weather… He is at an age where he is not immune to this kind of disappointment yet…

That is why, to you wonderful ladies with hearts as deep as those hailing from the sea, could I ask you all to be a bit empathetic to his situation?

Elderly Woman C: … Well, I can see how disappointing it would be to come this far only for it to rain…

Elderly Woman A: I’ve heard that city kids like him don’t have to experience this kind of stuff since they have weather control devices…

Ushio: ( …Hm.)

Sakujiro: Ah, please excuse me, my phone is ringing…

(It seems to be Chief. Now, I wonder how things are playing out…)

Announcer: “This is an announcement from the Organization Committee. Today’s Summer Festival in Shodoshima will be canceled due to the rain…”

Ushio: See? It ended up being canceled, soーー

Akuta: “Nanaki, is it okay if I just talk like normal? Ah, it’s okay? OK, OK! Ah, ah, mic test!”

“Okay, so, today’s event cancellationーー is CANCELEEEEED!”

Ushio: ……Hah?

Gannosuke: J-Just what on earth… is going on!? Was that Akuta-kun’s voice just now…!?

Kiroku: …… Is it not… getting… canceled?

Ushio: Liーー

Like hell if I know!?

Sakujiro: ………

Location: Beach in Shodoshima

Kaede: Hello? Sakujiro-san? It’s me!

I managed to get the weather control device from KOBE!

Koharu: Sakujiro-san, long time no see!

… So with this, ya can tell Kafka that I repaid back my debt〜!

Kaede: Yes, Koharu-san is here with me right now! He’s showing me how to set up the device…!

Elderly Man D: Well, I’m grateful you tried to borrow such an impressive thing, but there’s no point in using it now.

Elderly Man E: Right? It’s such a shame too. Each shot is really expensive, isn’t it?

Koharu: Don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘Cuz Iーー KOBE is sayin’ it’s all fine so ya can go ahead ‘n launch it.

Kaede: (They’re right… Even though he’s saying that it’s just repaying a debt, the equipment is so expensive… It’s not worth it for KOBE to help us out, but he just lent it to me with no questions askedーー)

Koharu-san, really, thank you so much…!

Then, I’m gonna head to the venue now… Well, I was going to but, Sakujiro-san, you’ve been silent for a while now. Can you hear me?

Akuta: “You thought it was gonna be canceled huh〜 I also thought I’d be getting a bunch of delicious food to myself y’know.”

Kaede: (Huh? Is that Akuta-kun’s voice on the other side of the phone…? Sakujiro-san went silent as well… What’s going on?)

Location: Tomioka Hachiman Shrine in Shodoshima

Akuta: “Alright everyone, are you ready〜?”

“10 seconds left until launch off～!”

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

Notes — ✈︎

Andy is kinda like Siri basically? But a bit more advanced since yk . this is 2055. Nanaki basically talks to Andy a lot. I was gonna type it as Andi to make it look a bit more like Siri but everyone I’ve seen around is using Andy? So I’m keeping it the same for consistency.

He’s talking about Rocky Balboa from the movie Rocky. I copied the quote Akuta says from google LMFAO

[i-will-always-be-happy]

Ler Sanemi chasing and tickling Lee Giyuu?

YESSSS! EMO AND CHIHUAHUA BOY! I LOVE THEM!

Warning: This fanfic contains tickles. Also remind them that I don't speak English, so if they find any errors, let me know to correct it. I hope you like it!

Also, contains Sanegiyuu (Sanemi x Giyuu)

Ler: Sanemi Shinazugawa

Lee: Giyuu Tomioka

'I screwed it up!' 'Come here you moron!!', Sanemi yelled, hot on the heels of Giyuu, who was running around Sanemi's entire estate.

Let's put a little context, will you?

'I don't know what's up with Giyuu, he's been bitter. Today when he spoke, his voice sounded different, could you help me verify that everything is fine with him?', Sanemi looked at her confused, Shinobu asked him to take care of him?

'Why I should? He's an adult, let him take care of himself' 'I'm telling you as Oyakata-sama's request, I don't have much time right now, there are many injured patients and I have to take the medicine. Do it and I'll tell Aoi to make you whatever food you want'

Sanemi refused, but now he was waiting for Giyuu to arrive, he saw him. Shinobu was right, it seemed like he hadn't slept these days or months, he looked more unpleasant and dull than usual

'Good morning, Giyuu', he had no answer for a few seconds 'What do you want Shinazugawa? Be quick and brief, I want to get out of here', what? Giyuu?

'What's your fucking problem?!' 'That's how you always answer and I don't yell like that', oh wow... He really was in a bad mood

'Giyuu, are you feeling alright? You...', Sanemi tried to touch his shoulder, but Giyuu's look was different, it was as if he didn't want to be touched by even an insect. 'What do you want?'

Sanemi was confused, why was he acting like this right now? But... Something went through Sanemi's mind. A few words

'Ohhh is anyone angry? Come here!' 'Eahahahaha! Mahahama!', Sanemi felt bad for a moment, his memories, he felt, nostalgic

Sanemi tried to press Tomioka's hip, but Tomioka dodged and hit Sanemi's hand roughly.

'Don't touch me, Shinazugawa', Sanemi blushed slightly, it was a part of Giyuu that although he usually looked so serious, his tone of voice and new gaze surprised him.

Hey, but he hadn't slapped him?

'Did you slap me? Giyuu Tomioka', Giyuu wanted to keep his seriousness but when he turned to answer him, he saw Sanemi cracking his knuckles and laughing.

'Shit', Giyuu thought before running and being chased by Sanemi, which is what I was telling them when the story began.

'AGH!' 'GOTCHA!!', Sanemi played dirty, he really did, he pushed Giyuu hard, very cruel of him.

'Oh no, did you fall? What a problem! Calm down Tomioka! Now that I'm your friend, I'll worry about you, that's why... I'll see if you don't have a broken rib after this fall', well Giyuu, you asked for it

Sanemi and Giyuu fought, Giyuu holding Sanemi's wrists and trying as much as possible not to get

'Sa-Sanemi! No!' 'I won't do anything to you! Be a good friend and stay put!', well, Giyuu will probably win... Who am I kidding? Obviously not-

'DAHAHAHAMN!! SAHAHANEMIHIHI!!! STOHOHOP!!! I'M FIHIHINE!! QUIHIHIT IT!!' 'Mmmmm let's see, there doesn't seem to be a problem here, nor here, hey stop moving! You can get hurt!', Sanemi pressed between each space of his ribs, 'checking' that Giyuu wasn't hurt.

'STAHAHAP!! YOHOHOU DAHAHAHAMN DOHOHORK!!!' 'Oi, who are you calling an idiot, huh?', Sanemi positioned himself on Giyuu's upper ribs, digging right into that spot and smiling as Giyuu's laughter increased.

'What's up Tomioka? You should thank me for the fact that you're fine!' 'FAHAHAHAHACK!!! *gasp* SANEMI!!! *snort* *hipcup* ENOHOHOHUGH!!! *scream* WAHAHAHA!!!!', Sanemi smirked, but didn't stop

Giyuu kicked, begged, writhed, yelled, snorted, and squealed for mercy for almost 2 minutes, until finally Sanemi stopped and let him go.

'Well, now will you tell me why you were like this?', he received no answer. 'Tomioka?', nothing.

'Hey, I'm talking to you-!', Sanemi shook Tomioka, but still, he received no response.

'TOMIOKA?!', Sanemi got scared and the only thing he chose to do was give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, maybe he had gone too far?

He approached willingly, until Giyuu opened his eyes and kissed him.

'I worry you, don't I?', Sanemi blushed and pushed him away, crossing his arms as Giyuu laughed and stood up.

[opttagoyeo]

Psychic Au! Naruhina Ver.

brief context: Naruto Uzumaki is the CEO of a well-known company, a lot of people don't know.. even his present girlfriend, Sakura that he, has some sort of special talent.

Well you see, he has a special talent where he can read minds— or literally hear them in real life, without them knowing- without their consent.

Whereas, Hinata Hyuuga on the other hand, works under that same company, and has a suppressed feeling for her boss for almost 3 years now, without well, Him, knowing.

'Have I...

really stood a chance on him? '

Naruto stilled, his eyes darting around to find the one who's voice is this invading on his mind, who keeps boggling his already chaotic infused mind, and there she is—

Silently, like the air, cupping her favorite blend of coffee against the office's kitchen,

Naruto ponders who might be this person, who might be on Hinata's train of thoughts as of right now.

'Stood a chance on him huh?'

He never thought that there will be a time that he'll discover this quiet woman's interest in men, they've been working for years, and he really do admire her work, perseverance, determination, and hard work.

So to see her, the ever so serious yet gentle employee of his show some soft side of hers , a tell tale sign of her having affectionate feelings, it made him wonder.

It sparked a different interest, a sudden bubbling curiosity to know more for Naruto. To know more, to discover every nook and cranny with his all might.

To know everything there is to this one of a kind woman, Hinata Hyuga.

' I wonder, if I, if I was just as determined as I am right now back then, would I.. would I approach him, earlier, even before she came to his life?

Before everything shambled and crumbled and bask into this sunlight freely without any shame nor remorse to myself?'

Wow.

Just, wow.

He was definitely speechless to say the least, like, no really, he's being honest right now literally.

She sure have loved this certain guy for at least more than a year, Naruto estimated. Why? Well excuse his mind but the way she sound so disappointed and just so melancholy about the whole ordeal she's thinking of, makes him think that she's been keeping her love all to herself.

She's afraid of taking risk but that's also what's creeping up now to her memories, eating her up with a lot of what ifs, and regrets mixed with heavy disappointments.

In return, it left a bitter taste feeling for Naruto, and an aching heart, because he knew so damn well that feeling, of not being chosen— of not being enough.

Well sure, him and Hinata faces different situation and circumstances but in a sense they're also highly similar for they both have the feelings that correlates with one another.

And that's enough.

For Naruto, he's adamant that what he have seen is enough.

***

But he's wrong.

It's nowhere near enough.

If he could only turn back the time right at this moment, to go back to that specific time where she's just sipping her favorite coffee, he would, hell, if he have to move the sky and the mountain for it to happen then sure he will do it in no time without any complain.

To know it and to fully comprehend and analyze it are two different things.

In his defense, how could he possibly know?

Right?

Right?!

Who could've thought that all this time...

That...

Guy who he supposed was in Hinata's mind was none other than...

than...

Him.

Yes.

Him.

Oh.

Oh.

Truth to be told he didn't actually expected that, no one prepared him to do so because why would they?

And the very thought that swirling on his mind is...

Why him?

Out of all the people,

in the office...

in the city...

in the whole wide world.

Out of all 8 Billion People in the world?! Why chose him?

[consumeroflemoans]

So my elf warlock (He/She/They)

They're from some kind of prestigious family, but they sucked ass at magic school, lots of reading and studying and almost no practical results whatsoever, though they still hold the firm belief that they are actually smarter and more righteous and better than others, not in the way of being oblivious, they are on many levels acutely aware that they're really not very good at this whole thing, but admitting to it would destroy a part of their soul so denial runs deep

"If I was a bit more lucky I could be great", similar sentiments and such, she believes she could better the world if she had the ability to and deeply desires to prove it, but moreso for the sake of proving it, she wants to be powerful enough to enact change, but has no true plans for how so, it's simply something that would an ambigious Good on account of being driven by her

The craving for approval and assurance mistaken as one for admiration and control

Next a "magical artifact", a sickle so old that those who guarded it have forgotten why it has been guarded in the first place, slowly fading into what is moreso a display piece, impressive by its mere age but not regarded for anything else, a part of an exhibition

Whoopsie, there's a Thing inside

Said Thing looks at this utterly bitter failed magic user and goes "Oh yeah"

A tug at the back of his mind, a little telepathic talking to and he decides to actually just steal that sickle

And wow, what a wonder, suddenly she's pretty good at magic, who would have though, that's not suspicious at all!

But yeah, they aren't quite as skilled as they'd like to be, technically a beginner, but they get praise quickly enough, people are suprised and maybe even impressed, people like it and it's eating them alive

He feels like he's on the verge of vomiting any time he looks someone in the face, he feels like he's trapped in a shadow play, he feels like a fraud

Now that he actually has gotten what he wanted, more or less, the fear of losing it grips him so tightly it threatens to strangle him, their cheers are conditional, able to be lost, quite easily at that, in response to this, more denial

It's simply the case that someone may wrongfully try to take her newfound abilities, that she by the way definetly totally 100% believes she deserves, away from her so what she has to do is strengthen them to such an extent that no one would be able to and for that she needs to leave like right now because uh

People are holding her back, uh-huh, that's it, yeah, sounds right

So adventure embarking, the Thing is of course still whispering into his ear, much more clearly now that he decided to respond, it furthers the doubts in roundabout ways, it establishes itself as his biggest "believer" though really it's simply the most willing to give him admiration and it is actively to thank for the acquisition of his newfound power since it, as it claims, "saw his potential"

They're also simply put a bit of an ass, since they have a still remaining burning need to prove themself and now enough skill to actually back up their ego at least a bit and they're with strangers who didn't know them before, they don't really have to bite their tounge about anything even if they try to maintain some base level of politeness, but generally their arrogance is a bit noticeable, very know-it-all

Anyway, the group does stuff together, they do the shit the Thing in the sickle tells them to do to "prove themself worthy" and keep up the magic supply, the things the whispers promise get increasingly grandiose, "you will be the one to usher in a new era" type of shit, there's the inevitable closeness between those you have experienced so much with, friendship and all that fun stuff, eventually they fulfill most of what sickle Thing tells them to do to like get to their destiny

Uh-oh, it's a fucking demon or some shit like that and now she's possessed

There's a fight, Thing gets beaten into submission and everyone dies, except for her and after the end of all that, sitting between what remains of her friends, people she wasn't even that close to, people she could have been closer to had she not been single-mindedly stuck on her own goal, something that wasn't even truly good, but simply something she wanted, she has to admit to herself now, had she looked beyond herself, had she not viewed herself as deserving of being so mighty, had she not failed to be on her own in the first place

Now he's every bit as bad as he was before and cannot hide behind denial anymore

Anyway she's so deeply ashamed that she hides inside a cave for literal years

That's exactly where they're discovered again, I like to think a little kid was playing and ran inside and saw that fucked up looking elf in the corner and went like "Hello there, I don't think this is a good place to live" and they were so tired of living in a cave that they came along to the kids village when it insisted on taking them there, they also feel deeply guilty for leaving their self-imposed exile, but it's not like there's anyone who could hold them accountable for it, they're the only person who knows of the crime they commited, they're appaled at their own lenience, but also so done with the cave

Now they got taken to the village and the village was like "Oh, hello, nice to meet you" and just let them stay there, some people helped them integrate and they work behind the counter in a bar now, they don't have experience with intense physical labour and the only thing they studied, they're not only pretty bad at, but they've pretty much sworn off so they've been taught how to man the counter and they work there now

And occasionally the bar hosts what is in essence an open-mic and there's this one woman who comes each week and sings and she's damn good and she's working hard to get even better and the little elf stands behind the bar and looks at the stage and watches her perform and sometimes she comes and orders something and they chat, but ooooh, he feels so much guilt, he shouldn't be allowed to be this okay, downright happy even when he talks to her, he shouldn't be allowed to talk to her at all, she doesn't even know about the big crime

Funnily enough they actually met once before the big crime when the group took a stop in this very same establishment and also watched her perform there, they didn't quite flirt, but they chatted briefly and elf guy got flustered, it's in a way comforting to know she's still there and doing her thing and even if she doesn't know, simply existing in the same room also proves in a roundabout way his past life doesn't completly reject him

I don't think the singer know she's the same guy as back then, the conversation wasn't long and she changed a bit to say the least, but she recognizes the singer

And also feels like she's lying to her in every single Interaction they have

A little note on the side, way back when I came up with the singer I had recently watched Chicago and was wholly enarmored with the performance of Queen Latifah, I may be aroace but that song was a thing of beauty, so while definetly not the same personality as the role she played that's also kinda similar to what I imagine in my head on appearance and voice

Also, I didn't mention it in the first ask because it was a very quick one, but hey, hi, it's me

-Leuchtturm

Leuchtturm I’m afraid your warlock is Babygirl™️ material

I am absolutely obsessed with this lore. I love characters that are genuinely not that great people being given power. Also I’m really curious on the lore of the Thing itself and what it is

Also omg I am obsessed with how this elf going from the most traumatic character developing experience of their life only to be shoved into a slice of life AU at the end of it. Like he is so lost and I love it

[ao3-rex1223]

Chapter 33: Epilogue and Afterword

Twelfth Floor Intern Masterlist

Pairing: Miles Edgeworth x fem!reader

Summary: Your final semesters of law school begin and you plan your wedding to the love of your life.

Tags: Power Imbalance, Mentor/Intern, Miles wants you so bad but he's ethical AF now, No use of y/n, depictions of violence, Discussion of Rape, description of murder victims, adult murder victims, child murder victims, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampies, Loss of Virginity, Miles is the king of prosecutors but also the king of consent, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Blow Jobs, Nightmare about sexual assault, cross posted on AO3

The tabloids took the news of your engagement to Miles well and with a surprisingly minimal amount of bitterness after the backlash they received when running articles about you two during your internship. You smirk as you read the headline on the very same tabloid who had published their theories about your relationship only a few months ago. ‘Miles Edgeworth and his intern are officially engaged!’ You were both kind enough to pose for a photograph for the magazine when spotted during an outing last week, your hand strategically placed on his chest so the photo captures your engagement ring. Your father was arrested for the killing of Jason Michaels, but Miles bailed him out before his seat in the jail cell got warm. Joe and Kathy have remained in L.A. while all of that gets sorted out, but everyone involved is confident that it will quickly be ruled a justifiable homicide in defense of another, i.e. you. Gumshoe still fawns over your dad all the time.

The semester begins and your classes are now in full swing. You sit in the library of the university campus, preparing to write the dissertation your promised Professor Fredericks you’d write in exchange for looking the other way when he realized how close you and Miles had become.

“Hey, do you think we could use the other end of this table? Everywhere else is full,” a voice asks. You turn your head up to see two other university students: two young women who appear to be about your age; one with blonde hair, and the other with brown. You glance around and notice that the rest of the library is indeed full and there’s plenty of room at the long table where you’re sitting.

You nod with a kind smile. “Of course.”

“Thanks!” The two women reply in unison. “I’m Lindsay and this is Rachel,” the blonde girl says and gestures to the brunette.

You give them your name in reply. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. What are you working on? That looks intense,” Rachel replies, glancing curiously at the intimidating looking law books in front of you.

“My dissertation,” you explain with a sheepish smile.

“Are you a lawyer or something?” Lindsay asks. She opens a large textbook that appears to be nursing related.

You chuckle. “Almost. I still have this semester and spring yet. What about you guys?”

“We’re getting doctorates in nursing. We’re partners for a project we have to do…essentially it’s our version of a dissertation,” Lindsay explains.

“Cool. What is it about?” You ask.

“Group debriefing after violent incidents in hospitals.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Wow! That sounds really interesting!”

“Yeah. It’s been a beast, but we’re trudging through it. Too bad we have to put ourselves through this nightmare, huh?” Lindsay adds with a cheeky grin, gesturing to all three of you.

“I volunteered,” you reveal.

Both Lindsay and Rachel’s eyes widen. The stare at you like you grew a second head. “You…willingly took on a dissertation?” Rachel asks incredulously.

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah…it’s a long story.” You visit with the girls for a while longer until your mother calls. You scramble to answer your phone before the noisy ringing disrupts the whole library. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetie. I'm outside the library. It's time for us to go find you a dress!” She announces happily.

“There's at least three shops to search through! We gotta get started!” You hear Nora shouting from the background through the phone call.

You chuckle softly. “Okay, I'm on my way out.” You start packing up your things and return the books you borrowed. You turn to Lindsay and Rachel. “Good luck with your project!”

“Good luck with your dissertation!” They both reply.

You hasten out to your mother's rental car and hop in the front passenger's seat. Nora sits in the back.

Your dear best friend wasn’t kidding when she said there was a lot to look at. It takes HOURS. Nora brings you dress after dress after dress to try on, but nothing really speaks to you. Your mother thankfully brings you coffee. You plop down into the large armchair at the wedding boutique, sighing heavily. It’s a lot of fun, but it’s far more exhausting than you thought it would be. Your mother strolls casually around the boutique, still guiding her steps with a cane. Where Nora pulls practically every dress she sees, unvetted, Kathy studies each dress carefully, knowing what you would like and what you would hate. Two or three of Nora’s picks later, your mother returns with a beautiful, ivory ball gown. Your jaw slips open. Its lace, V-neck bodice had transparent, mesh shoulder straps, giving it a pseudo-strapless appearance. The skirt featured layers of lace ruffles that cascaded down to the floor. You gently run your fingers along the dress, marveling at its beauty.

Nora lights up at the sight of it. “Oh! That one’s gorgeous! Get your booty back in that fitting room!” she shouts happily, practically shoving you along. Your mother enters with you, helping you don the gorgeous dress.

“I still wish I could have worn your dress,” you admit, recalling how beautiful your mother looked in her wedding dress.

Kathy smiles warmly, gently lacing up the dress on you. “The downside of renting a dress…” she chuckles, reminiscing about her own experience with her wedding. “You know your father and I didn’t have much money when we got married…had to make due with what we had. I do have one thing for you though…” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a box, roughly the size of one of your textbooks. You open it carefully, revealing your mother’s veil - the one thing she was able to buy for herself. Your nose tingles as tears pool in your eyes. The delicate lace and intricate embroidery speak of another time, another love story between your mother and father. It’s a story that is still going strong today and one you hope to emulate with Miles.

She places the veil on your head and as you look in the mirror, a wave of emotion washes over you. You see not just yourself, but a legacy of love and resilience passed down to you from the generations before you. Your grandmother, your mother, and now you, all chased love with insatiable hunger, unencumbered by barriers or limitations. Love has no timeline, you have learned. Love truly is patient. It comes just as fast or as slow as you need it to. A few tears fall from your eyes. This is the dress.

“C’mon, baby girl. You better go show Nora,” Kathy says, sniffling and wiping her own tears with a handkerchief. You smile and hug her tightly. She returns the embrace lovingly, kissing your forehead.

When Nora sees you, she squeals and shoots up to her feet from the couch in the lobby. She runs to you and engulfs you in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh! It’s perfect and it’s so you!” She squeezes you. “You’re my best friend forever! I love you so much!”

You chuckle and return her warm hug. “Love you too, Nora.”

The semester flies by in a blur. Between classes, planning your wedding, and testifying against Devin Zucker, December 12th shows up in no time; your wedding day. It’s L.A., so there’s no snow on the ground like there would be back home in Colorado, but the day is perfect. The last of the sunshine lingers on the horizon as the guests pile into the seats at the Los Angeles Museum of Art in front of the Urban Light exhibit, which shines brightly now that the sun is all but set, picturesque for your big day. Your father arrives in a limousine to pick you up from the salon where the final touches to your bridal look are completed. With your dress on, your makeup perfect, and your hair styled flawlessly, Joe stops as soon as he sees you, his eyes turning into Niagara Falls. He drops his head, wiping his face with his hand, trying not to get any tears on his nice tuxedo - which he rented.

You start to tear up yourself, carefully fanning your face to avoid smudging your makeup. “I love you, Dad,” You run into his arms.

He holds you tight, his hand gently on the back of your head, cradling it like he always did. “I love you too, sweetheart.” You hear him sniffle. “I'm so sorry, honey.”

You pull back and look into his eyes. “For what?”

Guilt plagues his eyes. “I should have let you go sooner, spread your wings. I held you back and it…” he gets choked up, “it almost got you killed…”

You grab his hands and gently squeeze them. “Dad…it wasn't your fault. It was Devin Zucker's fault…and he's going to pay for it in prison for the rest of his life…” You take a deep breath and exhale. “Dad…I know you only ever did what you did because you love me and want to keep me safe…so, I'll never blame you for loving me as much as you do…but I'm glad you came around. I'm glad you trust Miles.”

“I trust you, sweetie.” He kisses your forehead. “I trust your judgment. And if you trust Miles, then so do I.”

You smile, more tears running down your face. “Thanks, Dad.” The two of you embrace again.

“I'm so proud of you, honey.”

You smile widely and gently dab a tear away from your face. You kiss your father's cheek. “I'll always be your little girl, Dad.”

He gently strokes your hair. “I know you will, sweetie…now let's go get you married!”

He guides you into the limousine, bound for the art museum where Miles awaits you. You see the romantic glow of the Urban Lights exhibit in the distance, signaling you're close to him…close to becoming his wife. Your body tingles and your heart races, bursting with excitement.

When you step out of the limousine, all eyes are on you. Being a prosecutor is everything you could ever want, but it's often a thankless job and it’s nice, for once, that everyone here is actually happy to see you. You manage to hold back your tears as your father walks you down the aisle and you see everyone who came to celebrate your special day. But the tears can't be held back once you see Miles, standing in a black tuxedo, though still sporting his signature cravat. His jaw slips open slightly; his eyes watch you with such love and tenderness. You smile as the tears fall and suddenly the aisle is way too long.

All the troubles and hardships you endured seem insignificant. The wonderful memories you shared together come rushing in: the first time you met, crashing into him in the hallway and experiencing the intense stare of his beautiful gray eyes; the first kiss you shared in his office and the first time you made love; the first time you said ‘I love you’ to each other. The trials and tribulations you walked through together only made you stronger, only brought you closer, deepening the love you share. Your hearts are joined forever and no matter what happens, no one will ever share such a deep love with you like he does.

Finally, you reach him. He steps forward as your father shakes his hand, pulling him into a warm embrace. “Welcome to our family,” Joe whispers in his ear, then takes your hand and places it in Miles’ who happily leads you to the officiant.

It's as easy as breathing to promise your lives to each other, to vow to stand beside one another until death do you part, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The declaration of the officiant echoes in your years as Miles wraps his arms around you, dips you, and kisses you passionately in front of your guests.

After taking a plethora of photos in front of the romantic lights, you join your guests for your reception at a hotel nearby - not owned by the Zucker family. Everyone gets to enjoy a delicious meal, chatting and celebrating the union of two people who love each other. You and Miles sit together at your own small table.

Eventually, your father rises from his seat to give a speech. Everyone quiets down, turning their eyes and their attention to him. “Miles, I remember seeing your photo in the newspaper ages ago. It was an article that raved about how impressive you were as a young prosecutor.” Joe pauses and smirks. “I remember thinking to myself, ‘who is this punk kid who thinks he’s so great?’” He smiles softly. Miles chuckles and listens attentively, his arm affectionately wrapped around your waist as you both sit at your table. Joe continues, “But you kept popping up in the news, stunning the world with your talent which was unmatched by anyone else by a longshot.” He shifts his glance to you. “But even with all that, I still couldn’t see that you were good enough for my little girl. Every father hopes his daughter will find a good man to take care of her, keep her safe, give her the world because that’s all a father ever wants for his children, to give them the world. There were so many boys that would come around looking for her, none of them even close to passable; none of them deserved to be called a man. I told myself there has to be someone good enough for my baby girl out there. Somewhere along the line, I lost sight of what I needed to do as a father; who I needed to be. I started to believe no one would ever be good enough and that I would need to look out for her, but I was never willing to ask myself, ‘what happens when I die? What happens when she’s alone? How can I trust anyone else to protect the most precious thing to me when I can no longer do it?’” Joe tears up. “But none of that was right. What I should have done is let her choose from the start. I should have trusted that she would know. I raised her, taught her well and I should have known that she was wise enough to pick the right one for herself. I should have known that she’d never select anyone less than a man like you; someone who would respect her, protect her, and love her till his dying breath.

“And when I look at you, Miles, I see a man who loves his wife more than himself, just as I love mine. I see the same look in your eyes when you look at her as I have when I look at my dear Kathy. Life will not be easy; you already know this. You’ve lived a life in the spotlight and you’re used to having a target on your back. And while the thought of one being painted on hers, too, terrifies the shit out of me…I trust you. I know you’ll protect her. I know she’ll be safe and happy because of you. The love you have for each other is strong and ever growing; remember that when times are difficult and you’ll make it through.” Joe raises his glass into the air. “To the bride and groom!” He toasts happily. The crowd follows suit, raising their glasses in kind. Miles gives your father a warm smile, nodding respectfully. After all the speeches and toasts, the tables are moved to make room for the dance.

You share your first dance with Miles, a dance with your father, and many many more with all of the wonderful people who came to celebrate with you. Phoenix Wright even gets to dance with you.

“I never thought I’d see Miles get married, but you two seem great together. I’m glad everything worked out.” He gives you a wide grin.

“Thanks, Phoenix. I’m glad you could make it and celebrate with us. I’m sure Miles doesn’t say it enough, but I know it means a lot to him; you mean a lot to him.”

Phoenix chuckles. “Yeah, he was never one for sharing his feelings…but he’s different with you. You bring out the best in him.”

You give him a genuine smile. “I’m glad to hear that. He does the same for me.”

Phoenix spins you around, your skirt flowing beautifully as you move.

“So…when will it be your turn, Phoenix?” you ask with a sly grin.

He missteps a bit at the comment and blushes brightly. “Oh…me…? Uh…gee…I don’t know…”

“I hope it happens for you, Phoenix. You deserve something special,” you comment.

Phoenix’s eyes flicker to someone behind you then back to you. You raise an eyebrow and surreptitiously glance behind you to find where his eyes went.

Franziska Von Karma.

You quickly turn back to Phoenix who is blushing bright red and avoiding your gaze. Your jaw drops and your mouth widens into an astonished smile, eyes brimming with a mixture of shock and delight. “Phoenix Wright!” you shout with excitement.

He grins sheepishly. “What? She's got spunk!” He looks away, his cheeks blushing brightly.

You beam at the idea of playing Cupid for Phoenix and Franziska. “Well, go dance with her!”

Phoenix blushes again. “I…I don't know…I bet Miles would be furious!”

You smirk. “You let me handle my husband! Go ask her to dance!”

Phoenix puts on a confident smile and straightens his suit jacket. He saunters over to Franziska and you see him talking with her, ostensibly asking her to dance. Franziska rolls her eyes and starts to walk away, but dear Phoenix swiftly grabs her hand and leads her to the dance floor. She looks grumpy, but she doesn't resist and eventually they're swaying together to the music.

You smile, your heart warming even more. You turn to find your husband who's just spotted Phoenix and Franziska. He narrows his eyes and begins stalking over to them. You quickly intercept him. “Darling…if it's going to happen, just let it happen.”

Miles snorts, knowing you're right but still feeling protective of his pseudo sister.

“She can look out for herself,” you remind him and gently kiss his cheek.

His look softens. “She can…better than I can,” he admits with a smile. He brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “What would I do without you, Mrs. Edgeworth?” He leans in and gently kisses your lips.

You gaze lovingly into his eyes, gently placing your hand on his chest. As your lips meet once more, the rest of the world melts away, only love and devotion remaining between the two of you.

As the night comes to an end, Miles takes you back home, carrying you over the threshold, as he feels he's compelled to. You grin happily, knowing the last remaining ritual to solidify your marriage is the most exciting. He sets you down on the bed, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate exchange. “My beautiful bride,” he whispers softly. His hand cups your face and then trails down your neck to your collarbone, gently caressing every inch of your body. His arms wrap around you and his fingers begin undoing the lace of your wedding dress. Your breathing increases as it always does when you know you're about to make love to him. It's different now, though. Your connection is even deeper, underpinned by the lifelong commitment you’ve both just begun.

He carefully slides the shoulders of your dress down farther and farther until your breasts are free of the ivory fabric. He lets out a low growl and takes one of your hardened pink buds into his mouth. He pulls your body against his as he sucks and kisses your breast. He peels the dress down further, kissing his way along until all that's left on you is the white, lacy panties you wore underneath the wedding dress. He stands, removing his clothes quickly and joining you on the bed. “I love you,” he whispers, kissing you passionately again. “You're mine,” he adds while he moves his head between your legs. He caresses your thighs gently, dragging his fingertips softly along, tracing circles and giving a few soft squeezes. He kisses your stomach, your inner thighs, teasing you, making you so wet he can see the damp spot on the gusset of your panties. Your sweet moans are an aria to him. He licks his lips and purrs, “you're mine forever, darling.”

You smile. “Till we're old and gray.”

Miles smirks. “I'm already gray.” He grabs one side of your panties with his teeth, the other with his hand, and slides them down before tossing them aside. He plants delicate kisses on your dripping wet sex then licks a stripe up your slit. You gasp, ecstasy overtaking you. His lips engulf your clit while his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. “Mrs. Edgeworth, you taste divine. I’ll never tire of devouring you,” he comments with a smirk before diving back in.

Your back arches and your head digs into the pillow. Miles secures your flailing legs with his arms, wrapping them around your thighs as he continues to devour you, his beloved wife. He sucks on your folds until you’re coming undone for him, writhing in pleasure and gushing your essence on his tongue. He laps it up greedily then crawls over top of you, aligning himself with your dripping entrance. He kisses you deeply, giving you a taste of yourself. His tongue glides into your mouth as he slides inside you, consummating your marriage. He moves his hips slowly, savoring this moment, the feeling of your soft warmth around his length. Your heart pounds in your chest, excitement and love bursting from every cell in your body. You slide your arms around his neck, pulling him close, deepening the passionate kiss you share as your bodies move in sync with each other.

His pace steadily quickens, unable to hold himself back for much longer. His hand glides down and he presses his thumb to your clit, circling it smoothly as he works you to another climax. Your moans grow louder as you near the edge once more. Finally, your walls collapse around him, gripping his length tightly. The sensation pushes him overboard and he fills you. He holds himself above you, kissing you lovingly as the last of his essence shoots out of his pulsing member. “You’re so beautiful,” he purrs, his face flushed in the afterglow of your shared orgasm. His kisses decorate your lips, cheeks, and jaw.

As you hold each other, drifting off to sleep together for the first time as husband and wife, you know there's a whole new chapter of your life beginning and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Miles is right beside you as you wrap up law school and pass the bar. You take a job in the prosecutor's office and no one is surprised that you secured the position, but you dedicate yourself to proving your worth to everyone else and eventually, the other staff are convinced you deserve to be there. Franziska sticks around and acts as your supervisor since Miles can't. You hone your skills over the years and follow closely in the footsteps of the prodigies who precede you.

Thankfully, you inherited none of your mother's infertility struggles and bless Miles with fatherhood twice, giving him two beautiful daughters. Your father laughs internally, knowing Miles will have to worry twice as much as he did with you. Your daughters are your whole world; Celeste, the eldest, is brave and determined, never willing to back down from a challenge. June, the youngest, is bright, yet shy. She observes the world carefully, taking in every detail. Miles dotes on them at every possible opportunity. You can easily see him becoming as protective of them as your father was with you once they reach dating age.

As the years pass, your experience grows, and one day, Professor Fredericks is knocking on your office door to bring you your own intern.

“C’mon in!” you call from your desk chair.

The door cracks open and his bright grin lights up the room. “Good morning, Mrs. Edgeworth!” he greets happily. A young woman follows behind him.

“Hey, Professor.” You stand to shake his hand kindly. “How’s Sarah?”

“She’s doing well. Tired, of course,” he answers.

“How far along is she now?” you ask.

“Six months. Not much longer to go!” he replies happily with an affectionate smile, giddy by the thought of soon being able to hold his child in his arms. He snaps out of his daydream, turns, and gently pats the shoulder of the woman next to him. “I have your new intern for you.”

The student smiles brightly, eyes filled with hope. “Hi, Mrs. Edgeworth. I’m really excited to be your intern this summer!”

You give a welcoming smile to the young woman and shake her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Professor Fredericks says you're a dedicated student. I think you’ll do well here. Welcome to the twelfth floor!”

Afterword

Thank you so much everyone who read this! All of your nice comments kept me going and inspired me to keep writing! I never expected this to be as long as it was. I initially intended it to be 6-10 chapters and it ended up being over three times as long! Part of me wanted to keep going, but I also recognize that eventually, the quality would start to suffer and I’d rather end it while I’m happy with the content versus continuing on and letting it suffer. This work was so important to me for many reasons, one of which being the length. I have dreamed of being an author for a long time but I never thought I’d have the ability to write a full, novel length work and I was able to prove to myself that I can! I’m over the moon from achieving this and I feel confident that I can create something purely original that could be published some day!

Writing is a great hobby when you have other things going on in your life or a different career. I’ve been a nurse for ten years now and I have a little under two months left of graduate school to be a psychiatric nurse practitioner. My passion is caring for those with mental illness but also writing and luckily for me, the two things can co-exist. While it will continue to be chaotic and sparse right now as I wrap up school, prepare for the board exam, and look for a job where I can use my shiny new degree and license, I will continue writing. I will return to Resident Evil one shots for a little while because they’re easy and fast to write and I have a lot of ideas that have been sitting on my to-do list for a long time while I finished this fic. I have another idea for a Miles Edgeworth fic but there’s a few big snags. One, I’m torn between making it another reader insert or simply making my own original female character (reader inserts aren’t the easiest to write sometimes when you have no name and limited descriptors to cling to). Two, it doesn’t have much of a cohesive plot yet other than the major points; I’m hesitant to start writing something and then abandon it because I can’t figure out how to progress the story. Three, I don’t have much in the way of connecting it to the Ace Attorney universe, in that there wouldn’t be much of it’s characters or features aside from Miles so I’m considering just axing the AA tie and making it an original fic. In addition to this, I have an idea for a purely original spicy romance…do I still call it a fic? Story? Anyway, I’ve been reading a lot of Mafia romance books and I wanna try my hand at writing one. I will post whatever I decide to start to AO3. It may be a few months before I start digging into writing another long story and I’ll stick to short stuff for now. If you like, give me a follow and you’ll be notified when I start something new! I love you all!

[lisutarid-a]

[Gakuen K] Totsuka Tatara Route Translation

Even after graduation

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Kukuri: Good morning! Winter break went by in the blink of an eye, didn't it? Hey, did you go out anywhere?

Saya: No, nowhere. And you, Kukuri-chan?

Kukuri: I think I've only been to my mom's house.

Kukuri: Someday I'd like to go abroad like a celebrity~

Saya: Abroad, huh? Sounds tough.

Kukuri: Oh, you're not very interested it that, are you?

Saya: That's not the case. I'm a little nervous about the language and cultural barriers.

Kukuri: Ahaha, I'm sure you'll get used to those things.

Kukuri: Oh, right. Speaking of next year, let's go abroad together for graduation trip. A trip for two women! I think it'll be fun.

Saya: Wow, sounds great. A graduation trip, huh?

Saya: (Graduation…It's that time of year already)

Saya: Totsuka-senpai, you're graduating soon.

Totsuka: That's right. I think there's two more months to go.

Saya: …Right.

Totsuka: What's wrong?

Saya: N-no, it's nothing…

Saya: (I'm gonna miss Totsuka-senpai, but I can't say I don't want him to graduate)

Totsuka: I'm so excited. I can't believe I'm graduating with King.

Mikoto: It ain't decided yet.

Totsuka: Arara, you're saying that to yourself? You'll have to take the test again in the third semester, won't you?

Mikoto: …Probably.

Yata: I will miss Mikoto-san and others here when they're gone…

Totsuka: Yata! Don't cry like that. I wouldn't be able to come as regularly as Kusanagi-san, but I'll come as often as I can.

Yata: No, Totsuka-san…I'm not crying.

Saya: (I wonder if Totsuka-senpai won't be able to come. I guess we will have less time to see each other)

Saya: (I'm still going to miss him)

Kusanagi: Oh, hey. Are you leaving already?

Saya: No, I'm not. I was just going for a walk.

Totsuka: Well, be careful.

Saya: …Okay.

Saya: Wow, it's cold…

Saya: (But it seems like a good way to cool off)

Saya: …Even though I can't help but going to miss him.

Saya: He's older. I knew he was going to graduate.

Saya: …I knew it. But I'm still would miss him…

Saya: (I wonder if I'll be able to smile properly on the day senpai graduates…I wonder if I'll be able to send him off with a smile, I…)

Totsuka: You'll catch a cold like this, you know?

Saya: !

Saya: S-senpai?

Totsuka: What?

Saya: Em…Why are you hugging me?

Totsuka: Payback for the first sunrise. …You don't like it?

Saya: It's not like that. But… I feel uneasy when I can't see your face.

Totsuka: I see. …Well, then I'll hug you from the front.

Saya: W-Why are you here, senpai…?

Totsuka: Actually, I was wondering how you were doing, so I've been following you, sorry.

Totsuka: What's with a walk in this cold weather…?

Choice: [I just wanted to think about something] ❤

Saya: I just wanted to think about something a little bit…

Totsuka: I see. You got a bitter expression when you left.

Totsuka: …What's going on?

Choice: [It's nothing]

Saya: It's nothing. I just kind of wanted to… take a walk.

Totsuka: Really? Then why do you have such a bitter expression over nothing?

Totsuka: If you want, why don't you talk to me about it? I might be able to help.

Saya: …I can't say it.

Totsuka: Why?

Saya: Senpai would be shocked, because it's very selfish and egotistical.

Totsuka: I won't be shocked. Never. I want to know everything about you, and I want to talk to you about everything.

Totsuka: That's why, please.

Saya: (I'm no match for senpai. I feel like it's okay to talk about it)

Saya: Okay…I was worried about you graduating.

Totsuka: That I'm graduating…?

Saya: I thought I would have less chance to see senpai after he graduated, and that made me really sad.

Saya: I'd like to congratulate you on your graduation, but I'm more sad about it.

Totsuka: Saya-chan…

Saya: …

Totsuka: What is it? Such a thing.

Saya: Such a thing…! It's very important to me…

Totsuka: It's okay. Because I've been thinking about it for a while, too.

Saya: Eh! Is that so?

Totsuka: Uhm. But you know, I talked to Kusanagi-san about it, he said, "It's not a lifelong separation, so don't worry".

Totsuka: Sure, we'll have less time to see each other, but we can make that time even more fulfilling than it is now.

Totsuka: There's no need to miss me. Because my love for you would remain unchanged.

Saya: Senpai…

Totsuka: For the sake of my lovely kohai, I promise to show up at the clubroom as much as possible.

Totsuka: So, on the day I graduate, I want you to send me off with a smile.

Saya: …Okay!

[Prev chapter][Next chapter]

[theonewhoseinlovewithfictionals]

Mr. Here To Stay

Warning: contains adult languages. Minor, please do not read.

PART 2

You are sitting at your manager’s office talking about your performance this quarter, “with that, Y/N, I must say, the heads, including me, are impressed. You keep meeting expectations and exceeded them,” you blush as the Manager compliments you.

You: “ I-uhhh-thank you!” You blush even harder.

Manager: “We’re giving raise in your pay as well and might promote you.”

Your eyes widen, “R-really?!! OMG! I-I don’t know what to say, thank you!” You almost cry out of happiness.

The Manger reach out your hand, holding it firmly. With full sincere, “No, Y/N, thank you. You’re expertise help us a lot,”

You both giggle and had a small talk. After few minutes, you walk fast to your station.

N2: how was it?

You shriek out of uncontrollable happiness you feel, “they might promote me and give me a raise,”

They all wow and N1 hugs you, “I’m soooo very proud of you!!! How about a drink this weekend? Uh-huh?!!”

They all clamoring ‘yes’ and you agree. It’s been awhile since an alcohol run downs your throat and you miss the taste of bitterness in it. You haven’t taken a seat yet as the chatter continues. You are standing at your cubicle, half of your ass sitting on the table with your arms crossed.

N4 relaxing at ergo chair, "I’ve heard Dr. Marco have been blockbuster,"

You blink, oh, here we go again, you thought. You sigh in weariness but still continue to join in the conversation.

N1 nodded, "yeah, I bet my hubby’s have a very rough weeks." N1 said pouting.

You sigh, “really? Then that’s good! I mean, after seeing his signing bonus…”

N2 protested and even got seat up, "Oy! Have a little concern with the Dr., he’s human too, you know?!"

you fired back, "yeah right, it’s been what? Two weeks and everyday, I’ve been hearing his name. Everywhere. Like, literally! In the comfort rooms, canteen, hallway, even before I exit the hospital. Uggh-"

You roll your eyes.

N4 raising the coffee cup, "Well, he’s a doctor and he’s really has the look compared to the others and I think, single? That’s why girl around here is crazy about him,"

My eyes widen, "He’s not!"

N4 sips coffee and almost got choke but recovered. Their expression change like they see a ghost but you ignore it. Their body stiffen. You grab the paper on top of the box near your thigh. You flip the pages and stop at his resumé.

Looking at his resumé, "Look at him! Seriously?! Well---" you saaw again that pretty blue eyes which captivated you few weeks ago. You purse your lips. "--okay I’ll credit for his blue eyes because I really find it pretty," you finally admit it but you still don't agree the fact his handsome, "but... he looks like a pineapple! He’s not even that handsome!" Besides!" You aggressively flip the next page, it'll almost tear up, "And he didn’t even bother to check his marital status. Huh! This is a red flag, you know! He’s probably a playboy! Tss--" They are still silent after your burst and you notice N1 blushing, "Seriously, N1?Still like him?"

Suddenly, a sound of a pen clicks from your back. Then, a long arm comes in your sight, ticking the single box option in the marital status.

“I hope that satisfies you and your red flags,” He chuckles, “I thought my friends are just bullying me when they told me I look like a pineapple with my signature hairstyle. I guess they are not now. Aren’t we?”

You froze and processing what just happened. You figure out it was him. You felt drought in your throat. Your eyes slowly follows the white long sleeve and for a moment, both of you staring at each others eyes. Silence fill the air but your heart thumping out loud as you see his blue eyes. Your mouth half-open with the view. It's beautiful , you thought. Despite the negative comment your thrown to him, his eyes says otherwise. They are screaming positivity, which makes them even more beautiful.

No one dared to speak except from one, “Ah! Dr. Marco, it’s nice to see you here,” Your the first one who broke the longing stare. Hearing the footstep and familiarity of the voice, you knew it was your Manager who stood between you two.

Marco clears his throat and smiles at our Manager, “Hi! How are you? Yeah, it’s nice when you roam around and finally got a contrasting opinion, quite interesting, actually,” he grins while he throws a glance on you. Your sight fell down on the floor and praying the floor would suck you and send you to a different dimension.

Shit, Even though he didn’t drop your name, you know it’s you. You bit your lip and it seems like your muscle can’t move even an inch.

The Manager giggles softly, ” Well, as I can see, you met the star employee of our department,"

"star employee?" Marco seems to be interested. As he highlight the words, you feel more ashamed.

"yeah, Dr. Marco meet Y/N, the one will handle your department's reimbursements and payroll matters," Manager's body slightly directly to you, "Y/N, this is Dr. Marco, I presume you know him, right?"

You nod and forcibly put a smile on and look at him as if nothing happened, "Hi," you said in a low, soft voice which is the very opposite earlier.

"Hello, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," he offers his hand which you immediately shake hands with him. His hand is big and incredibly warm which makes you comfortable. You're about to let go but he grips it tightly, "I'm looking forward working with you," he grins then he let go of your hand.

The Manager continues to formally introduce Dr. Marco to the other members but the doctor shares only his waving hand to them, "And that's all, my team,"

"They seem to be nice, especially, Y/N," your teeth grinds, you don't know if his being sarcastic, "oh, by the way before I forgot, here's the reimbursements from my department. I've already signed it for approval," He hands you the bunch of forms along with the receipts.

"Did you review this one as well?" You said in a unfriendly tone. The Manager nudges you, "I-I mean, of course, you approved it. Silly me. Don't worry, I'll process them right away," you smile plasticly, "Dr. Marco," you seat and try to focus on the monitor and acted to work.

----------

Your workmates went to a breaktime but you stay in front of the screen. Your mind keep coming back earlier and you feet guilty with the words you've said. Since the guilty is overpowering you, you gave up and stand up and go to the nearest bake shop.

As you open the front door, a cute little ring echoes, notifying the person in the shop that it has customer. You carefully check out the cupcake, bundt, doughnuts, breads, and other pastries. A staff approaches you with a cute pink apron, "Hi, what can I get you for today?"

"Uh--" Still undecided what to get for the Dr.,

"Is it for birthday?" The staff probe.

You shake your head no, "More of a...peace...offering?"

"Ahh-I see, boyfriend?"

"Uh no, more of a....co-worker?" You weren't sure about the right term.

"Then, Chocolate cupcakes are the best for peace offering in any kind of relationship,"

You smile, "I'd like to have one, please?"

"right away," The staff is busy tapping the cashier monitor and you pay as the staff at determine price. Since you have mentioned earlier that it was a peace offering, the staff really did a nice job at wrapping up the small cupcake. You even praise the staff for it.

You hurriedly get back to the office and look for a directory. You navigate the touch screen map located at the entrance of the hospital once you got the room to his office. You ran through the crowd. Upon arriving at the front door of his office, you catch your breath first and knock at his office door, "Come in,"

As your hand touches the cold door knob, you hesitate for a while. Nervousness creeps on your chest and having second thoughts of your action. But you are there already. You knocked and you said things to him, horrible one. You take a deep breath and open the door. You saw him busy looking at his whiteboard. You didn't let out a word, afraid that it might distract him so you sat in the chair quietly and watch him do his job.

You scan his room and you're pretty impressed with the neat and cleanliness despite being busy. You notice on the corner, a small coffee table with a picture frame on it. Being curious you are, you stand up and take a look at it. You grab the photo and saw two pictures divided in half, one is he's with a man whose way taller than him. Examining the figures, you guess. Maybe this is his father. Then, your eyes directed to the four men in a group photo. You inspect the picture and try to find the similarities between these men but minutes pass, you successfully failed. They all look different, one looks like a Japanese, the other two...you don't know but they have good looks as well then the last, it's him, "That's Izo, then Thatch, Ace - out little brother, and then there's me," an index finger pointing to each guy on the pic. You felt a comforting heat on your back and immediately turn around with the picture frame on your hand.

Dr. Marco was already at your back. There's not enough much space between you two. You have to lift up your chin since your height is only at his chest. You can also feel his warm breath on your skin, "so what brings you here?"

You too stun to speak as you see again those pretty blue eyes, "Uh...I...uhm..." You compose yourself, "I just wanted to hand you this," you lift your hand where the picture frame is.

He laugh which you find it a music to your ears, "Technically, that's mine but you do have a point though,"

"What?" your eyes bewilder as you see that you are offering him the picture frame, "Oh! no, not this one, sorry. It's this one," you barely lift the small bag, "but yeah--this one as well because it's yours, originally," you let out a small laugh. You rub your neck with the small bag on it. You realizes that it's kinda shitty, "Can I repeat again?"

He chuckles, "Yeah sure, you might want to give me the picture frame first," He offer his hand which you immediately give it to him.

You take a steps backward and prepares, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry what I've said earlier. I-uhmm I shouldn't...judge you or said things...like that--" You can't keep an eye contact because those treacherous blue eyes is distracting you, "I mean, without knowing you, fully," there's a moment of silence, "here, my peace offering," you lift up the small gift bag while looking at him sincerely.

He smiles widely and accepting the gift, "Thank you, Y/N. That's thoughtful...and sweet."

You smile as well. There's still nervous but controllable now. You felt something lifted up from your chest, "I-uhm...gotta go now. I still have to work to do,"

"Understand. Thank you for this. I really appreciate it, Y/N."

You give him a last smile then go back to your department.

-------------- PART 3

[xiv-wolfram]

Empathy - Comic Script

Prequel - Age 25

Roughly 15 years before the events of A Realm Reborn, Wolfram (the future Warrior of Light) and Raubahn Aldynn have been together for a couple weeks.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

Part 1

Wolf and Rau walking around the footfalls of Western Thanalan talking. Narrator - "15 years before the events of ARR. Wolfram (cook and future Warrior of Light) and gladiator Raubahn Aldynn have been dating for a few weeks."

Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing as he walks - "-so you cover the onions to make sure they cook without browning. Otherwise the sauce will have a bitter taste." Rau smiling.

Fighting monsters. Wolf rushes one of those crab creatures and stabs it through the eye. 

Rau watching him, beaming. Thought - 'Wow, he really is skilled with a blade. Certainly could be a gladiator if he still wanted it…though I don't know if I could handle seeing him hurt.'

They're walking again. Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing with hands - "Area rugs can be utilized in an open concept to help define individual spaces. " Rau smiling, nods, thought - 'I see he learned a lot growing up decorating inn rooms.'

Fighting monsters. Rau jumps up and slices through a vulture with a downward slash. Wolf thought - 'It's amazing to see him fighting up close like this. I have the best seat in the Coliseum right here…heh.'

They continue walking. Wolf talking excitedly, beaming - “And those that didn't flee to Gyr Abania settled in Thanalan, founding Belah'dia, which eventually broke into Sil'dih and Ul'dah …I’m speaking a lot aren’t I? Usually someone stops me by now.” Rau grins, thought - 'He's adorable.'

Rau beams - "I love hearing you speak so passionately. And besides, you're voice is drawing enemies to us which has been quite enjoyable. I’m excited to finally see you fighting." Wolf smiles smugly - “I’m glad to be met with your approval. I haven’t fought in front of a professional before.”

Fighting monsters. Back to back power couple pose. 

Kissing in the water against a rock. 

Zoomed in shot. Smiling at each other.

Rau grins - "I must say…fighting together like this is doing something for me. I uh…" Wolf grins - "Oh, I'm aware… and the feeling is mutual."

Rau confused, steps back - "Alright now, that's several times that you have mentioned feeling or knowing what I want. What do you mean by that?"

Wolf embarrassed - "Oh…I'm sorry I've not had to explain it before. My family already knew…let me think."

Rau raises an eyebrow in confusion. Thought - 'Huh?!'

Wolf uncomfortable - "So, since I was very young I've been able to sense people's emotions. Not everyone and not always. My grandmother said I'm an empath. That the gift shows up in our family sometimes. …I'm sorry I'm sure this sounds very odd."

Rau surprised - "Oh! I've heard of similar gifts yet had never met anyone with them. So … do you know what I'm feeling right now?"

Wolf smiles - "I believe mild curiosity? And you're quite tired as well. It's difficult to read if the emotion isn't strong. It's also stronger the closer I am with someone. So I usually have an idea with you but I couldn't just walk up to someone on the street and sense them."

Rau awkward, light blush - "So then is that how you um… knew what I wanted in bed?"

Wolf smiles, blushing - "Aye…some of it. I knew you wanted me to take control because of it. Is that a problem? I could understand if it feels like an invasion of privacy. If you prefer I can stop doing it to you. I just… wanted to get things right and make you happy…"

Rau smiles comforting - "No, if this is a part of who you are then I shall love it along with the rest of you. Besides… I often struggle to express myself properly or ask for what I want. This could be a good thing."

Wolf beams - "I must admit I was a bit nervous to tell you. Thank you for accepting me as I am."

Rau holds him. Wolf's head on his chest, turned to the side. They're smiling.

 Rau smirks, looking down at him - "So…what am I feeling now?" Wolf grins - "I think it's about time you showed me your apartment."

Part 2

Rau’s apartment (build set. Small Ul'dah studio/open concept. Minimal.). Rau gestures around - “Well, as you can see it’s not much but -”

Wolf beaming - “It's nice! Cozy, clean, and most importantly feels very 'you'. I love it!”

Rau surprised - “Oh? I’d been a bit embarrassed to have you over. Given how upscale your inn room is…”

Wolf blushes - “Ah.. that…” Rau curious - “What?”

Wolf looking away uncomfortably - “Well, I must confess I picked a fancy room as I wanted you to be comfortable.The regular rooms were quite bare but would have suited me fine.”

Rau beams and caresses Wolf's cheek - “Ah, Wolf you didn't have to do that. Although the gesture is appreciated.”

Wolf beams - “It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’m getting a good rate now that I work there. And I’ll admit having a private bath has worked out nicely for us.”

Rau laughs - "Indeed it has! I suppose the other guests would object to our use of the public bath." Wolf, grins, looking off dreamily, thought - 'That does sound exciting though… Maybe I can convince him some night…'

Wolf refocuses, looking at the open kitchen - "The kitchen is also quite nice… I can tell you're hungry. I'd love to cook you dinner here after."

Rau smirks. Thought - 'He knows when I'm hungry, horny, or tired. This will take some getting used to but his gift is strangely relaxing to me.' Says - "That sounds like a fine idea. After what?" Wolf smug - "Well, after you give me a tour of that shower of course."

Rau grins and picks him up - "Ah, yes we do need to clean up after all that fighting." Wolf winks - "Yeah…that's why."

They kiss as Rau carries Wolf to the shower.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

[zappedbyzabka]

Daniel ends up being the one to provide all the flowers for the wedding. He almost picks the worst ones just to be petty, and the worst part of that is because it wasn’t even him being bitter about Johnny—but because he was getting married.

He spent lots of time complaining to Jessica about Johnny’s stupid wedding where he’s gonna marry his stupid fiancé and they’re going to have stupid gross sex and Johnny’s going to have stupid babies for that stupid fiancé—

Jessica is like. “Okay. So you’re either into him or his fiancé, and I’m leaning towards you crushing on the pretty omega boy you keep whining about.”

“No, no, he’s a nuisance. And he isn’t pretty.”

He is.

Too pretty. It’s annoying.

“If you dislike him, then why are you actively trying out arrangements for his bouquet? You won’t even let me have any say on the damn thing. I’m just being truthful; I’ve never met a boy who’d do discounted work for someone they hate.”

“You don’t even work here! Of course I’m not letting you tinker with it.”

She pursed her lips slightly. “Mhmm. I so am taking your word for it all. Just saying, I’m here for you and any... confusing emotions you may be having, okay?”

Daniel’s protests did nothing to change her mind.

Eventually the day came where Johnny stepped into the shop, and he looked…cared for. Not very happy, but healthy.

Not hunched over on the sidewalk with a purpling neck like how Daniel last saw him.

His hair was more carefree than it had been in high school, when he presumably spent an amount of time on it that Johnny would probably call girlish if another spent the same.

His face was full with a lovely glow, and for a terrifying moment, Daniel questioned whether or not the shine on Johnny’s skin was from pregnancy until he glanced at his belly and found it to be flat.

The thought only disturbs him because he doesn’t want Johnny’s offspring on the same planet as him. That’s all.

And his scent. Jesus, Daniel could hardly take it. It was perfect.

Why didn’t he smell like that before? A little saccharine, a little floral-funnily enough-with other unique scents mixed in that he would need the time to put a name to.

His mouth watered.

He swiftly gained his bearings, a bit embarrassed about his silent observation (admiration).

But Johnny either didn’t care or was in his own trance, because he just smiled in an oddly polite way when Daniel finally spoke.

“Wow. Long time, no see, man. You look good. Can I, uh, help you?”

He was hoping to be smoother.

He was supposed to have been impressing him.

Um. For some reason.

“You don’t look too bad either, I guess. And it hasn’t been that long, punk. Did one of those hanging pots fall on your head and make you lose your sense of time?”

Ah. Still an ass. Still a bitch. Still a bozo.

Daniel wished he weren’t marrying another man.

For some reason.

“No, I’ve just been so grateful for your absence in my life that I’ve been savoring every moment since.”

Johnny huffed.

“Me too. That’s why I have an engagement ring on my finger.” He snarked back, showing Daniel his oh so shiny ring wrapped around his elegant finger, clearly having been snatched up by a richer alpha than him. “I’ve been enjoying life, alright.”

Then his face fell, like he recalled something. “But I’m...actually glad you’re happy now, Daniel.”

Daniel?

That was too freaky for Daniel.

But wow, if it didn’t sound sweet coming from that mouth.

“Huh, that’s a pretty ring. I think I saw something almost identical at the thrift shop I go to.” Daniel remarked, expecting Johnny to be abhorred at the suggestion he would wear anything similar to a poorer person, but to his surprise, Johnny gave no sign of being offended by it.

“Weird. Anyway, I came to see your work. I need to be sure you aren’t going to fuck me on this. I told that dimwit not to give you free rein.”

The wording nearly made Daniel’s brain short circuit.

And dimwit? As in his future husband?

“Oh, uh, yeah. Why don’t you come to the back and make sure I’m not fucking you there? I don’t really feel like dragging my cart out for you.”

He had a book full of photos of his arrangements.

He quite literally had examples all over the damn shop. That’s all the decor he had other than the paintings Miyagi offered him.

He could have easily just gotten the cart to show Johnny what he was thinking.

But he wanted to keep Johnny there longer. Dig a little deeper.

Only because he’s nosy and for no other reason, Jessica.

Johnny’s cheeks turned rouge, and Daniel felt a spark of satisfaction. “I didn’t know you were such a sloth.”

“I just don’t do free labor anymore.”

“I’m literally paying you!”

“You, or your rich Daddy?” Daniel bit out with a face of distaste.

Johnny blinked. “Rich daddy? Like...my husband? Dude, this isn’t the 50’s—”

Daniel waved his hands. “No! Your actual father. He’s loaded, ain’t he?”

The omega swallowed. “He’s my stepdad. And no, he isn’t paying for it, and he isn’t invited. Just show me the daisies or whatever already.”

Yeesh. Sore spot.

But he just had to know. “You guys don’t get along?”

Johnny looked to the side, biting his lip. “Something like that. Did you hear me? I want to see the flowers now. Are you usually up your customers asses like this, or am I special?”

The latter.

“Oh, screw you, pal.”

“You wish, buddy.”

Daniel shook his head, puffing through his puffed like a slightly irate, runt of a bull. “Follow me.”

(im just being funny silly rn.)

A/B/O au where Alpha runt Daniel’s bonsai shop stays on it’s feet but it’s also halfway a flower shop—which is how he finds out through a bouquet order that Johnny Lawrence is to be wedded.

Your choice who the fiance is, but it doesn’t quite matter to Danny who the groom is to the omega, just that Johnny is engaged.

Daniel’s a great bullshitter and pretends he isn’t buzzing for that special, awful client to come in and pick up the order so he can interrogate him, ask him on a coffee da—hangout to catch up and fall in lo–reconcile. Maybe he can get invited to the wedding and sneak into the golden bride’s dressing room to fu—help him not get cold feet.

Yeah.

[dzpenumbra]

3/1/23

Well shit, I guess it's March, huh.

I, yet again, did not get a good night's sleep. I might as well get this out. I wrote a comment on a post on an artist's group on Reddit. They were in a similar position to me. All-in on art, 7+ years no other work history, battling with mental health. They were saying they were worried they would have to get other work, another job.

I wrote a whole thing, several paragraphs, you know how I am. I just.. wrote from a place of being able to deeply relate. And a bit bitterness because this isn't really a thing with a lot of careers. For some reason, art, which used to be one of the most revered and sacred professions since before we even invented spoken language... is viewed as a child's hobby now, in many circles. As in, it's not viewed as a legitimate, sustainable career. And modern western society is most definitely not built to sustain fine art as a career. No-sir-ee. Modern western society is built to turn fine artists into contractual laborers, who supervisors and tacticians can use for profit. Like pieces on a factory line. Like Assemblers in Factorio.

It's a really fucked up thing in the end, because they're so short-sighted that they genuinely can't see why their corner-cutting and exploitative practices don't work the way they want them to. They want to emulate art. They want to create the illusion of art. Of passion. Of vision. Picture acid-washed jeans. That. But with passion, with inspiration, with vision, with a personal message. But, as with most of western society, they are always looking forward. They try to emulate the end result. They try to emulate the product.

It's a very industrial concept, like China reverse engineering iPhones to make clones. It works in that industry. And you see it in gaming a lot, when a big soulless company buys out a small indie passion project, then they release a cheap straw-filled scarecrow wearing that indie game's skin. They try to emulate what a good game looks like, what it feels like, what it sounds like. But it's just an imitation.

I found that in watching a lot of streams of newer games. If you see a chat saying "oh wow, that's just like BioShock" or "oh wow, that's just like Minecraft" or "oh wow, that's just like Call of Duty". Then you know that game is not really standing on it's own two feet. And they can get by, and make a good product... but you will rarely find art this way. Those games, art games, legendary games... some may start as "wow, this is just like ____" but they quickly break free and have their own unique, memorable experience.

Fine art is the purest form of this "lightning in a bottle" I know. And it's different for everyone. My form is trying to capture my inspiration, my passion, things that are incredibly meaningful to me, in whatever medium feels right, even if I don't know how to work in that medium. The picture in my profile here, or whatever, idk what it's called. The Barred Owl. I have a few incredibly vivid memories of that bird. One, I was going up the mountain with my friend to find a bar we were told about that had pool tables. There was nothing to do at night in our town, so we were searching for the holy grail, essentially. It really felt like a quest, you know? And we end up on this dirt road in the middle of nowhere at like 10PM and neither of us know where we are, and this is before GPS and all that, of course. And we're driving along and up ahead we see... these fucking figures in the middle of the road. I'm serious, this was like... horror movie shit. Like I thought they were kids wearing the same hoodies with the hood up at first, it was really weird and surreal. Like a fairy tale or something. And there were like... 5 of them? As we got closer they seemed like they were around like 1.5-2 feet tall, and we started to suss out that they were Barred owls. Just standing in the middle of the fucking road, with us coasting towards them with the headlights on and the windows open. They were just... dead silent. And as we crawled towards them, they inched to the side and let us pass, but like stared directly at us as we passed, heads on a swivel. And I was really sketched out having the windows open, I was convinced they were going to like attack me or something, they were like... a foot away from me. It was really scary. Then right as we passed by, they scattered and they started flying tree-to-tree behind us, following us. Some overtaking us and perching in trees ahead, the rest following behind, swooping from tree to tree. It was nuts. We never found the place either, never even figured out if we were on the right road.

The other owl story was from my post-breakup days, the summer after, when I revisited my hippie self - who is firmly hybridized in my personality now, thank god. I kept getting the image of owls come to me in dreams, and I tried to do some kind of spirit guide meditation thing, like a summoning ritual or some shit (as though I've ever really needed that, good lord, they seek me out constantly) and I kept getting images of Barred Owls popping into my head. Just the head, for a long time. It's a very distinct face. And that summer, I had a family of Barred Owls hunt in my neighborhood at night. Maybe they'd always been there? Maybe I was just starting to go outside more, and finally heard them. But I lived right next to a pond and I would hear them calling to each other and coordinating. And I could hear them relocate from the north eastern corner across the pond... to the south eastern corner... then through the woods on the southern side, then looping around to where I lived on the western side. And they'd sometimes do a really slow loop, like over the course of hours, and sometimes they would just stay on the eastern side and then head out or go quiet. So, I started working on my owl call. Someone taught me how to do an owl call with my hands when I was really young, I've always remembered how to do it, I'm just very rusty. And I started to get it back really well that summer. And one night, I decided to call them. Just to see what happened. The cool part is, the leader (or whatever, I don't really know how their psychology works) had a distinctly different call. It's hard to articulate how, but when I heard it I knew it was them. And that one responded to me. And I went back and forth with them for a few calls. And then they went silent. They were across the pond (like a soccer pitch sized pond, not huge), on the eastern side, directly across. And after about 5 minutes of silence, I called again, and I got an immediate response from the leader... from due south. They had relocated. Then I heard a call to my north, a bit closer. That... was a very unique feeling. Then I called back, and the leader was a bit closer, and one or two other calls from varying locations. They had split up, and were coordinating locations. They were... surrounding me... I should mention at this point, I had no porch lights and a pretty poorly lit home. It was super dark at night. Like... super dark. Like walk out to the edge of the fenced-in yard and you can't see your hand in front of your face on a new moon. There was definitely moonlight that night though, I remember distinctly summoning my courage and walking out to the fence (about 30 feet from my porch, as though the roofed porch was "safer" or something...) and being able to see a tree about 10 feet away from me. So... decent visibility. And I called again, but got no response. And then one last time, and I got a response from the leader... I still don't know if they were in the tree 10 feet in front of me or the tree behind it, but they were fucking loud. Like, they were right there. Like... it made me freeze up a bit. But I got really excited at the same time. But like... it was one of those feelings, like... this animal and it's entire family can see me clear as day. And I can't see or hear a single one of them. And they're predators. So there's something very instinctual about that, it's a very unique feeling. But the coolest part about that scenario, I had summoned them, and they willfully sought me out. But having them that close? It freaked me out a little too much, and I headed back in.

So... my point with these stories? That's what Barred Owl means to me. And so much more. It's not just something cool to draw (I mean it's that too...), it's a deeply personal part of my life. And the act of drawing that piece? I streamed it. I streamed the entire process, start to finish, it took like... 40 hours total. And I met some cool people while I was doing that, and we talked about a lot of important life stuff. Point being, that piece wasn't something commissioned off some random dude on Fiverr. That piece wasn't focus grouped in a graphic design or illustration firm, then tasked to the most capable illustrator, then sent to print, mass produced and available on-demand as a postcard or a t-shirt. It's something special. Made by me, with my memories in it, with my emotions in it, with my skin oil in the paper. It's an artifact of a memory, or a concept. Or both.

So... when someone says... go get a job working for someone else, in a related field? It's like... they come from another world. It's like they don't even understand what this life or profession is. It's like they interchange "logo designer" or "basket weaver" or "candle maker" or "landscape painter" and they throw them all in the same pile and label it "not-normal jobs". Or "not real jobs". Or "hobbies". Usually "hobbies". It upsets me so deeply. Not just because I have devoted so much of my life to this, but because... I love these things so much. This way of living so much. This way of looking at the world. It's my everyday experience. I see art everywhere. I see art in the architecture of my building. I see wooden beams from different eras, some machined, some seemingly hand-hewed, at least in parts. I see brickwork that is quite old. And I envision the people constructing this building back... probably 100 years ago? Maybe even earlier. Let me google real quick. Yeah, it was originally constructed in 1880. 143 years. 143 years ago, some dudes were mixing mortar and placing bricks to make a gigantic mill. There are relics of different time periods, different constructions; all telling a story, like a fantasy movie scene that plays out in my head. And I see stuff like that everywhere. And it fascinates me, and I want to share it with people. Because it makes life so much more deep, and rich, and romantic, and fascinating. Art and writing allow me to do that. For anyone who chooses to participate. Unfortunately, not many have been interested.

So yeah... all this... because some dude sent me a reply to my comment at like 3AM saying that the OP should get a "normal job". And I was fucking livid all day. I was surprised I feel asleep. And I woke up angry. And I carried that anger all day long, until like 5 or 6 PM, when I finally talked to my mom and was able to get those thoughts out.

An interesting thing happened when I was talking to her about art. I was telling her this, the stuff about how... like... I'm basically looking for private collectors. For these relics, essentially. These artifacts. I don't know what else to call what I make. I say art and people just roll their eyes. But they really are so much more than the end product, they are the product of intellectual exploration, of memory, of my personality. They are concept pieces, most of them. My necklace that I'm wearing now is a concept piece. It's a bloodstone centerpiece, which was a stone I was given at a very difficult time in my life, and I lost it. And it always upset me very deeply that I had lost it, and I always pledged to get a new one. Now it's the heart of my necklace, and sits right above my heart. The wooden beads are stained with my tattoo ink that I have injected permanently into my own skin. The large beads are Tiger's Eyes, which were my favorite stone as a child. And the filler beads are Black Obsidian which is cool, but also a pretty important mineral in the advancement of humankind. Maybe that's a reach, it doesn't have a ton of personal sentimental value, it was a later addition. I got it because it called to me. Because my eyes kept being drawn to it, and it fits perfectly in the necklace thematically. It's more than just... something thrown together because it looks pretty - which is respectable in its own right. Every single direction in it was picked deliberately. The rhythm and pattern of the beads. The number of square knots used for spacing. The transition into braiding at the end, to emulate my symbolic braided mohawk that I used to have, as a reminder of where I came from. Every step of it is intentional.

I was telling my mom about the stones I've been sanding and faceting, that she sent me from her driveway. Sounds silly when I say it that way, wait til you see what they look like now. They are absolutely gorgeous. And I'm like 80% sure some of them have tiny veins of silver in them. And I asked her... if I approached a gallery and I just told them "here, here are some stones that my mom was drawn to, that she sent me from her driveway, which I sanded by hand into these shapes that somewhat mimic their original organic forms, but take on their own unique geometry, which I sanded while I was caring for and then eventually grieving my beloved cat." I asked her... "do you think they would put this in a gallery if I told them that." And she took a minute... then she started telling me about a woman she knows who does a lot of stuff that I would be interested in - candlemaking, beekeeping, making soaps and stuff, you know... someone who would make my life fucking awesome if I were dating them. But she's married so, whatever. XD And she's a vet, a traditional and alternative vet. So she does all kinds of stuff, and... she said this woman might be interested in these pieces.

So... she asked me, "how are you going to package it? Or present it?" And I went... "I'm probably going to go up to her with the stones in my cupped hands and say 'you want them?'" And my brain started getting fuzzy and quiet. Like static or white noise or something. Meaning like... thoughts just started not being there, going blank, like I was getting really tired or something. And I told her, "I could like... put them in a box, or a bag or something, maybe she could put them in a fountain and the light could play off them or something? Whatever, once they're out of my hands it's up to them." And then from there on out, my brain was just... struggling to keep up. Very blank and slow and having difficulty focusing. And I really brought attention to this very transparently, saying "this is my problem". I have trouble even envisioning the scenario. I don't believe in my ability to make a successful sale. I don't like it. I don't like the process at all, and I don't believe I'm skilled in it, and I don't want to be. I would be more than glad to tell the insanely personal story behind them, and burst into tears in front of them, but figuring out money? Making a sale? I naturally reel. I naturally pull back and freeze up. And I literally froze up, which is what my mom helped me learn. My mind froze, I was having trouble thinking, I couldn't envision the scenario or any options of what to do, the whole white noise thing. My brain would just go blank of thoughts.

So... I'm gathering... this is not just... something I don't like or don't want to do... it's something that's actually triggering a panic response and sending me into "fight, flight, freeze, fawn" mode, and this is my "freeze". Earth element out of alignment? Meh, I don't know enough about that kinda stuff to even speculate, I understand the language of psychology much better. I just have more experience in that tongue. So... that's a bit of a problem... if you want to ever have a career doing anything ever... and you freeze up any time the topic of asking for money comes up. As an artist, this makes you a golden fucking target for scammers, especially if what you produce is valuable. But more than that, I just... never get a chance to even get started. Because I don't care if I sell my shit or not, in fact, in some ways... it even benefits me to not sell my shit. And I really just want my art to go to a good home, where someone really appreciates it and lets it run free in the yard and feeds it food scraps under the table when no one's looking. And I wish life could be that simple. That I make really cool shit for people who really want it, whatever they want, whenever, we'll work together and make it work. And I'll cook for them and entertain them, and tell stories and teach them what I've learned in my travels. In exchange, I don't have to worry about housing or food. That's all I really want. But I'm afraid I'm... about 4000 years too late for a life like that. Apparently that life is not available to me, and I need to get a "normal job" to make "money" to pay for things to stay "alive" so I don't "die on the street" and then maybe in my free time I can dick around with paints or whatever lame shit I do that no one actually cares about. Yay.

But yeah, identifying how bad that anxiety/panic mechanism is getting, and how... I had a complete blind spot for it. Like... I was insanely disoriented and had no idea why my brain was just going blank. Luckily, perspective from my mom helped me connect the dots. No wonder I've been so adamant to get help around that, I had no idea it was so bad, because I wasn't like... physically feeling the fear. Fight is a very unique feeling. Like boiling water or something, like pressure building. Flight is very... sharp. Tightness, tension, gripping. Fawn is weird, it's like a hollowness and then like... a release... when it's genuine. When it's a fake fawn, like... going along with what a scary person is doing... it can be more like flight but... I don't know, like... cold and spooky. I'm pretty well acquainted with fawn, unfortunately. But freeze... at least this one... This one barely even registered to me as a panic response. It was just like... emptiness. Stillness. Blank. So, like... I didn't even associate it as a feeling, an emotion, let alone Fear.

Fear is so weird, it takes so many wildly different forms of experience, yet it's all the same emotion. So odd.

So yeah, we wrapped up, got the electric skateboard ordered, hopefully it'll be shipping before too long. It seems like it's a final plan. I'm gonna be doing the skateboard and car share thing, that plan. Hopefully it goes well, if not, we'll just reconvene and talk options again. I'm cool with it.

Okay, I wanna get to this because it's getting really late, I had no idea I had so much to say tonight. I went skating tonight. I was debating between streaming or playing a new game, and I said fuck it and went skating instead. I'm really glad I did. As always!

I spent most of my time at the handicapped access sidewalk that has that plateau section that ramps down, so it basically makes a little natural kicker. I landed some pretty good ollies and a shuvit, and really went after 3 shuv for a long time. I got really close a few times but I never stuck it. Though I'm pretty sure I have landed it at that spot before. I packed in a flatground section and just practiced kickflips for a good half hour. It was exhausting. It's weird, but I think flatground is actually more tiring than skating a gentle hill and then climbing back up. It's hard to really tell which is worse, but I feel like flatground might be. Because you just... don't carry speed... so you end up having to run and push more. Just a theory. I landed one kickflip, out of probably... I don't know, if I was to hazard a guess, probably 30 attempts? Not a great ratio. But I was really focusing on something specific today. I watched this video from a pro skater on common mistakes skating, and noticed something that I do a lot snowskating that I don't do as much skateboarding (though I still do it, just not as much). Leaning my torso forward rather than squatting on anything that isn't a straight ollie. Even ollies I get that sometimes, especially when landing a drop. But I noticed it a ton on backside 180s and heelflips. Correcting this by keeping my weight above my board, keeping my hips and shoulders lined up more (thank you, yoga!) made me much more consistent in proper 3-shuv landings, I was just... having trouble focusing on catching the board. The path turned to solid ice really quick, so when I popped... it felt like trying to jump forwards while wearing skate shoes (flat bottomed, little grip) on an ice rink. Your balance just immediately goes fucky. So regaining balance, staying above the board and looking at the board for catch and foot placement was just... too much for me all at once while mid-air. The "look at the board" part was usually too late, because all these moving parts still haven't been committed to muscle memory yet. The foot position, riding and correcting balance, steer correction, the pop and flick, those are all committed pretty well to muscle memory, I don't have to think too much. I just go 3-shuv and my feet go to the right place. But weight placement, posture and looking at the board aren't intuitive yet.

The "squat, don't bend" method definitely made kickflips much more consistent, and they actually popped higher too, which was an unexpected bonus. But sticking them moving on very uneven terrain... it was a battle. But I landed one. And it was much higher than my other kickflips. It wasn't clean, but it was enough to call a land.

I started to head back... then I eyed the 6-set at the bottom of the hill. Yep. I was tempted. It's weird, it's diagonally angled, so... it's a little weird to hit it? It feels much bigger than it really is. I decided to set the goal of bombdropping it. And I refused to leave until I landed it. And I tried and tried and tried. Over a dozen times, easily. I ate shit on that over and over. I just couldn't get my balance right. Too far back, too far back, too far back, too far toe edge, too far forward. At one point, I spooked a young woman and her dog who were out walking, it was like... 11PM. I think I scared her a bit? I don't know. I tried to be friendly, but she just... seemed to want to keep walking. I get it, it's late at night, your dog's barking at me, I'm some dude with a weird board thing alone in a park wearing all black. Probably not the place she felt the most safe in the world. I tried to be really friendly, told her I used to have a german shepherd and it was cool, I wasn't upset by it or anything. Then wished her a good night. Then it was like... probably another 6 or 7 more tries. And I was so fucking close, I just kept sliding out. And I was just about to give up and getting so tired. And I just went, "I'm fucking landing it this time. And I'm just riding away." And I tried to envision it, like... envision what it feels like, what it looks like. Really get that in my head. Then just clear my head and immediately go. And I came really close but I didn't land it. So I bolted back up and just said. "Nope, this time. This is it. Just do it." And I ran, and jumped, and put the board under my feet, and... rode away. And I did it. And I scared the shit out of some dude across the street who was walking and didn't see me because of the sound of the board smacking the packed snow. And I was beaming.

It wasn't an ollie, but it was the biggest stairset I've ever done. And the only one bigger in the park is the 7-set above the flatground section. Talk about progression. I don't know if I'm brave enough to try to ollie that 6-set this winter. Ollieing is so different from bombdropping. I'll leave the option open... but... it spooks me.

But I'll tell ya, that first bombdrop on the stairset? That took a bit of pumping myself up to do it. I was tempted to just jump first, no board under me, but... I was actually worried that might do more damage than good. I feel like landing flat-footed with nothing to move your momentum... all the impact just goes to your static feet, right in the ankles. And I don't really know how to like... tuck and roll out of that to distribute momentum, especially with a phone in my pocket. I do know how to tuck and roll and slide out of landing on my board to distribute momentum, pretty well too. So I actually opted to just skip the test jump and go right to the first bombdrop. And that was... a literal leap of faith. It took a big "fuck it" to get me to override my survival instincts there. I often feel like a baby because there are kids half my age that jump down stairsets twice that big, and they don't even have snow to break their fall. But for me, it's spooky. For me, these sets are the biggest thing I've done. So... I'm gonna let myself have that fear. Because the fear = the challenge. And overcoming the challenge, conquering the fear = the reward. Otherwise, I'm kinda cheating myself out of progression just because others have progressed further in their own journeys... That's kinda silly.

I ended skating on that note, it was a great feeling. I am so glad I stuck it out and pushed the last few attempts. It was worth it!

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A24 - Eat, Smile, Have a Blast

*crowd chattering*

Momiji: Wow~ so many people! It looks like all the tourists have gathered here!

(Everyone travelled for the festival, huh. …I'm really glad it opened without issue.)

…Hm?

Customer A: Excuse meee, I'd like to buy a three pack of baby castella with the special syrup.

Ushio: Right, hold on a moment…!

Customer B: I'll take a five pack!

Ushio: R-right…!

Customer C: No way! This is delicious! The special syrup is pretty good! I'll get it as a souvenir! Sir, make it a ten pack~!

Ushio: -…! Ri…! Right!

Momiji: Amazing. It's busy as hell…

Nanaki: Hey. It's been like that since the festival started.

Momiji: Nanaki-kun, Kiroku-kun! Good work!

Kiroku: …Good, work… to you… too…

Nanaki: Um, Chief. If it's alright… well. Our hands are free at the moment.

We were thinking we could help Kurama-kun out with the stall. The waiting customers are gonna get bored at this rate.

…Will that impact our grade?

Kiroku: … We'll … do our… best.

Momiji: Huh!?

(Nanaki-kun and Kiroku-kun came to offer help themselves…)

-… Of course! Just ask if there's anything you don't understand! Let's do our best to provide hospitality!

*omotenashi battle*

Momiji: Thanks for the help, you two! Our dear customers seemed very happy! Right, Ushio-kun!

Ushio: …Well, they got sold quicker than if I did it alone. It's a natural result of multiple people maintaining it… …

…It helped. Here, as thanks. It's the castella I'm selling.

Kiroku: …You're… thanking…

Nanaki: Here's hoping it doesn't start raining again. …Thanks for the food.

Chew chew… …!?

Delicious…

Ushio: …Hmph.

Nanaki: The moment the mild syrup flavour enters your mouth, an aroma spreads out like you're on a prairie…

The gentle sweetness of the sponge softly creeps up on you, like flowers garnishing a pure dreamscape…

A miraculous harmony that wouldn't be possible without both—a magnificent combination of saltiness and sweetness, with a somewhat nostalgic feeling…!

What is this… until I swallowed it, I had a Jimu Hen* guitar solo running through my brain…

Momiji: Amazing! Looks like you've got a talent for food reviews too, Nanaki-kun!

Nanaki: Ah, no, it was just too good, so I ended up…

Kiroku: … …

… …

Momiji: (Kiroku-kun's fully focused on eating. …Cute.)

Oh right, Ushio-kun.

Ushio: What.

Momiji: The lady who prepared the baby castella machine was praising you. She says you should have told them that you'd properly brought all the ingredients with you, instead of going "I forgot the syrup~".

"It's the first time I've had such delicious sweets" she said, so she's thankful.

Ushio: … I mean, I just did what I was supposed to.

Momiji: (So he says, but his cheeks are turning a bit red. He's embarrassed, huh.)

—Everyone really put their all into this. The fireworks were also a wonderful success, and both the tourists and the locals were very pleased. You really livened things up!

Nanaki: The music did?

Momiji: Of course! The sound source was far better than the one they'd been using before, and both young and old people enjoyed it!

Nanaki: Really!?

Momiji: Really. There's already a video online. They're saying the way it's matched with the fireworks is the best, and the number of views is doing good.

Nanaki: I see!

Ah, no. …It's because I worked hard. Yeah.

Momiji: Kiroku-kun's lantern is also really popular, it's addictive eeriness is considered cute—

Kiroku: …Huh…

Momiji: It seems like it's become a photo spot. Lots of pictures are being uploaded to social media.

Kiroku: Re… …rea, lly…? But… it's not… fin… ished…

Momiji: Being unfinished isn't as bad as you think.

Kiroku: …

Momiji: The clear skies brought a good turnout, and the management side was pleased too. Everyone's having so much fun—I, I'm so moved… …

Ushio: …You're quite the crybaby, for an adult.

Momiji: S-sorry. Looks like the sea breeze got in my eyes.

(At any rate, the kid who did the most to ensure everyone's efforts bore fruit like this was—)

Akuta: He~y there! 'Tis I, the man who will completely eviscerate the competition for the Kurodemy** Director Prize!

Muneuji: Good work, everyone.

Momiji: Akuta-kun, Muneuji-kun, good work!

Akuta: Ah~ this takoyaki is seriously good! The okonomiyaki's cooked all fluffy, and the oden's so flavourful~! Stall food is the best!

Nanaki: Aaah, you've bought so much, even though Sakuchan-sensei said we'd go out for food at the after party…

Akuta: Nope~ I remember that clear as day. When I passed in front of the stalls, I got 'em for free!

Ushio: Bet you were looking real greedy. Or like a starving puppy.

Kiroku: Isotake does… make you want… to give… food… to him…

Muneuji: As they're a representation of everyone's kindness, we couldn't refuse. Though I did say to not eat them now, and save them for later.

Momiji: He couldn't help himself, huh.

Akuta: No problem! My stomach is infinite! It's still only ten percent full!

Sakujiro: Ah, here you all are. It seems the store will be ready soon. We will be going to the same place we got Hishio bowls at on the first day.

Momiji: Since we'll be leaving Shodoshima tomorrow, we should absolutely all eat together this time.

Akuta: Hi-shi-o! Hi-shi-o!

Kiroku: …

Nanaki & Ushio: …

Muneuji: We'll all be participating, then.

Kiroku: … It… seems… that way.

Muneuji: …

Ushio: …

Kiroku: …Will you two… be… o… kay?

…You won't…… get into a…..

Akuta: What's that? You'll share half your Hishio bowl? With me? Hooray! Thanks!

Kiroku: …!? That's not—

Akuta: Huh, did you say you'll share your miso soup too? You're seriously a god, Kiroku! Thank you thank you~~~!

Kiroku: …I, didn't… say…

Momiji: (It somehow feels like they're not on the same page…)

At any rate, let's set off!

Nanaki: What do you mean you launched the egg!?

Akuta: Yep! It went boom!

Momiji: Hm? What did?

Nanaki: Nothing, we're discussing a movie.

Don't yell.

Muneuji: We negotiated with the egg, and this is how things turned out.

Nanaki: You mean it could communicate? The egg? I didn't think it seemed much like a living creature.

Muneuji: If you're asking if it reacted like it had a living body, it didn't. However, I could sense some kind of purpose from it.

Akuta: It was like a space communication device? Controlled remotely, like a radio controlled car~

Nanaki: So now, the egg is…?

Akuta: We searched the mountain for a bit, but couldn't find it!

Muneuji: I fear it may have burst into tiny pieces.

Nanaki: Wow… seriously…?

Akuta: No way! It doesn't have such a weak nature! It's an egg.

We'll definitely meet again someday. Somehow—I can just tell.

Nanaki: You're really confident about a baseless assumption. …Well, it's fine. Whatever you do, don't let Kinugawa-kun know.

He seemed really attached to the egg. I'm sure he'll be hurt if you tell him it might have burst.

Muneuji: Understood. I shall tell him that it returned to the sea itself.

*ジムヘン/Jimu Hen is a reference to Jimi Hendrix, often abbreviated to ジミヘン/Jimi Hen in Japan

**The Kurodemy Prize is a real thing, but it seems to be a manga award with no subcategories, so I'm not sure it's actually a reference to that

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