#you Know something awful has happened to you. you have a sort of vague idea of what it might be. you even have a suspicion of who might’ve

[simcardiac-arrested]

im a bit catastrophic autism level about characters having missing memories that they cant reach but know are meant to be there, i have a dnd character in a really similar situation!! i just love the feelings of frustration and horror... which memories and thoughts can you even trust? if memories can be removed can they be added?? what do you really know??? its the best for real poor ns

I KNOWWWW I FUCKING LOVE THAT CONCEPT SO MUCH!!!!! just that feeling of something being out of your reach. something you Know but can’t Remember. i love how i put it: like walking into a mall in the middle of the weekend and seeing that it’s empty. because you know it should be full of people. you know what should be there. but there’s nothing. no matter how much you look, there’s nothing, there’s nobody. it’s frustrating and horrifying and and (explodes in autism)

[itadores]

anything for you.

note: my beautiful princess tsubaki <3 had this idea on my mind for a bit, so i hope you enjoy!

pairing: tsubakino tasuku x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.8k

tags: gender neutral reader, he/him pronouns used for tsubaki, vague descriptions of violence, established relationship, fluff, pet names, reader is an acts of service kind of person

it’s in the heat of a fight when it happens.

tsubakino and the jikoku unit are on patrol when one of the townspeople informs them that some punks are causing trouble on the outskirts of makochi. they are quick to intervene, and the fight they find themselves involved in isn’t difficult by any means, each member of the jikoku unit able to take on their opponent with ease.

the guy that tsubakino’s facing is rather unimpressive, but he’s able to get a lucky hit on tsubakino. the punch doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but tsubakino notices something right after he gets hit.

the shift in tsubakino’s energy is nearly palpable, causing some people involved in the brawl to freeze. the twins pause from fighting for a moment, meeting each other’s gaze and sharing a look before turning towards tsubakino. there’s only one thing that would set their captain off like that.

tsubakino has chipped a nail.

tsubakino’s opponent appears to notice him inspecting his nails and scoffs. “aw, is the princess upset because she ruined a nail?” he taunts. a foolish move considering it only serves to anger tsubakino more.

“my partner just did my nails,” tsubakino smooths his skirt out before turning his attention to the punk responsible. “and you just had to go and mess it up.”

the man must have come to his senses because his hands shake as he holds them out in front of him in fists. he tries to step back, to put some distance between himself and tsubakino, but it’s futile. in one smooth kick, tsubakino knocks him out.

tsubakino turns towards the rest of the jikoku unit with a tight smile on his face. “let’s make this quick boys!”

members of the jikoku unit follow the command from their captain, no longer taking the time to leisurely play around with their opponents. they knock out the men with ease, pushing them out of town with their tails tucked between their legs.

“great work guys!” tsubakino’s smile is no longer as tight as before as he praises his unit for a job well done. “that’s the end of our patrol, so you guys are free for the rest of today!” he says, clapping his hands together.

with tsubakino's dismissal, most of the jikoku unit disperses, saying their goodbyes as they pass by their captain. the only people who stick around are his vice-captains: the sakaki twins.

"that includes you two," tsubakino says, wagging a finger at his second-in-commands, "you're free to go."

"we'll see you tomorrow," uryu says, dipping his head slightly. uryu and seiryu begin to walk off, but seiryu makes sure to sneak in a cheeky comment before they can get too far.

"enjoy your time with your partner, tsubaki!" there's a knowing look on seiryu's face as he waves goodbye over his shoulder.

"i will," tsubakino replies, smiling.

once his team is out of view, tsubakino takes his phone out and pulls up your contact. clicking the call button, tsubakino raises the mobile device to his ear. it only rings once before you answer.

"hello beautiful," you say in a sing-songy way, making tsubakino's smile widen.

"hi baby," tsubakino coos. he draws the phone closer to his ear as if it will bring you even nearer to him. "what are you doing?"

"nothing much," you sigh, "just getting some work done at home. what about you? you should be done with patrol by now, right?"

"yeah, i just finished! had to sort some guys out who were causing trouble on the edge of town, and one of them messed up my nails," tsubakino pouts as he inspects his nails again. the damage isn't devastating, but his one chipped nail already bothers him.

"are you alright? no injuries?" you ask, concern seeping into your voice.

"no injuries," tsubakino promises, sweet and reassuring. although tsubakino can take care of himself, which you're more than well aware of, he knows that you can't help but worry about him.

"good. good," you say, sounding relieved. "if you're free right now, do you want to come over to mine? i can fix your nail since i know it's going to bother you if it doesn't get fixed soon," you lightly tease.

"that sounds great,” tsubakino beams. “i'll pick up some snacks and drinks for us on my way over, so i'll be at yours in half an hour or so?"

“sounds perfect, my love. i’ll see you soon.”

tsubakino and you exchange goodbyes and i love yous before ending the call. he then begins walking back towards the center of town, thinking of what he wants to pick up for you two to share.

although the decision is really made for tsubakino since many of the townspeople offer him food and drinks as he passes by their establishments. he tries to turn some of them down, but they insist, placing to-go bags directly into tsubakino's hands for him to take. once tsubakino's hands are completely full, he opts to take side streets to your place instead of the main road. it's thankfully quieter on this route, and no good-natured shop keepers offer tsubakino any of their goods.

tsubakino arrives at your front door, a little less than half an hour after the call ended with you. he lightly knocks on your door, unable to do much more with his hands full. he can hear the pitter patter of footsteps before the door swings open, revealing your beautiful face.

"hello gorgeous," you greet before quickly ushering tsubakino inside. "let me take these from you. thank you so much for grabbing something on your way, you didn't have to."

"thank you honey." tsubakino gives you a kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a light imprint of his lipstick. "and i was planning on buying us some snacks and drinks, but the townspeople essentially shoved these into my arms as i was passing through the center."

"ah, as they usually do?"

tsubakino hums in response, wrapping himself around you as you unload the food and drinks tsubakino was provided with onto your kitchen table. you lean back into tsubakino's hold, pressing a kiss into the column of his neck.

"do you want to eat right now or do you want me to fix your nail first?"

"are you hungry?" tsubakino asks in return. "or thirsty?"

you make a contemplative sound. "not really. i can fix your nail first and then we can eat afterwards?" you suggest.

tsubakino drops his chin onto your shoulder, squeezing you a little tighter. "sounds good, baby."

"how about you go take a seat at my work station, and i'll join you after i quickly clean up here?"

tsubakino releases his hold on you and follows your suggestion. he makes his way through your apartment, pushing the door to venture into your bedroom. your work station is in the far corner of your room, and tsubakino takes a seat in the chair that's unofficially designated as his.

you’re not far behind him, entering your room only a few minutes after tsubakino takes a seat. you take the seat opposite of him, flipping on your desk lamp and making yourself comfortable.

“okay, let me see the damage.”

tsubakino places his left hand in your open palm, allowing you to inspect his nails and see how your work has held up from his fight.

"at least it's only one," you murmur, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the nail of his index finger. the red polish that you previously used to paint tsubakino's nails has chipped off in some places, exposing his nail bed.

you let go of tsubakino's hand, so you can pull open your desk drawers. "you can play some music in the background if you want, love," you say as you dig through your drawers to locate the supplies necessary to repair the chipped polish.

tsubakino pulls outs his phone from his pocket, opening up the music player app and putting the playlist you made together on shuffle. music suddenly fills the room, playing at a low volume from his speaker. the corner of your lips quirk up into a smile as you continue placing everything you need onto your desk.

you gently take tsubakino’s hand, beginning the process of carefully taking off the polish on his left index finger. tsubakino props his elbow onto your desk, resting his chin into his open palm, content to watch as you work away.

you're mostly relaxed, singing along quietly to the song playing in the background but from time to time, your face will scrunch up slightly in concentration, careful to not mess up tsubakino's other nails or smear any of the ruby red polish onto his cuticles. you’re too cute. tsubakino's so lucky to have a partner like you.

you're so supportive of him and his interests. you've always been like that. you often send him links to fashion articles or posts you think he would be interested in and enjoy surprising him from time to time with new hair, skincare, or makeup products you think he would like trying out. he appreciates how you've also tried to familiarize yourself with his interests, whether its through your own research or by asking tsubakino questions when he's talking about the latest fashion trends.

however, tsubakino was most touched when you offered to do his nails for the first time, shyly informing him that you've been trying to teach yourself how to do nails, so he wouldn't have to pay and go to a salon to get it done. you profusely apologized when they turned out a little wonky the first time you did them for him, but that's still tsubakino's favorite set he's ever gotten done because you did them for him.

you've definitely improved over time and grown far more confident in your skills. tsubakino thinks you could make some real money doing people's nails, but you brush him off whenever he brings it up, saying that you're content with having one client.

it doesn't take you long to finish fixing up tsubakino's nail. you carefully look it over for any imperfections, turning tsubakino's hand slightly from side to side before you appear to be satisfied.

"all done!"

"amazing work as always!" tsubakino praises, holding his hand up to admire the job you've done. you really are so talented.

"you flatter me, love," you say, laughing lightly as you put your equipment away in your desk drawers. once everything is in its place, you dust your hands off and offer a hand to tsubakino. he places his hand in yours, smiling when you kiss the back of it.

"shall we go eat now that's taken care of?"

"we shall."

tsubakino allows you to lead him out of your bedroom and into your kitchen, smiling the whole way through. he really is so lucky to experience a love like yours.

[aayakashii]

I'm going through the Sinostra chapter right now and I can't stop making theories omg there might be spoilers below so be careful, although I'm just enumerating my questions tbh lol

According to one of Taiga's home screen dialogs, there might be some sort of time loop happening which he's KINDA aware of? Or maybe just aware when triggered somehow.

He said "long time no see! You decide to ditch this future too? Sorry I'm not dead yet" which is INCREDIBLY ooc as to how he behaves during the story which leads me to

His extreme memory loss, which apparently lasts less than 24 hours. Why is that? Did he go through so many time loops that it started affecting his memory? There was one small moment in which he remembered Ritsu because he saw the MC face though...

The Clash. What the fuck was it

What's Taiga relationship to Haru? Haru sounds eerily nonchalant regarding Taiga even though the man keeps on threatening Peekaboo. And aftewards, Rui briefly mentions that Taiga has a "destroying what others hold dear" schtick, which leads me to believe that Taiga is seeking revenge for losing something important maybe???? Is the fanfic brainrot too big rn

WHY DOES HE HATE LIKE DOVES??????? I dont wanna go full romantic mode, but is he just resentful of seeing a bird that is the physical representation of someone else's feelings or something......

The spy. Honestly no idea. There's some theories floating around that Haku is the spy, but I would rather see him during the Hotarubi episode before jumping to conclusions, but it's understandable how people might think that I guess...? He IS very nice and helpful and randomly finding the MC fleeing by train was way too much of a coincidence... he does seem to always tie the MC to Darkwick somehow, firstly by KIDNAPPING her and then by talking her into staying. If the MC is the trigger to a bigger event, then one could see that as suspicious. But I would like a bit more evidence first lol

Back to Taiga, why is he. Like why

Okay no but seriously. If we take the timeloop thing seriously + Haku being a spy, here's the theory:

Taiga knows the MC is the trigger for an awful event and tried killing them back in the Prologue in order to cut the problem on its roots. Haku, if we consider him as the spy, WANTS the event to happen (considering he could also be aware of the loop), which is why he saved us and took us to Darkwick, therefore letting it all play out once again.

If Haku isn't the spy, then we would have to chalk it up as Taiga knowing and trying to kill us, but destiny (???) being a bitch, therefore putting Haku there as a pawn to make things play out again

Maybe the spy can control other ghouls? Who know tbh

Finally, what is going on during the first scene we see in the game? Darkwick on fire and the first character we choose jumping off of the building? I wonder what would happen if we choose Taiga as our first card....... maybe I should create a sub acc

Anyway if anyone has more questions/theories PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY IM OBSESSED WITH THIS GAME I NEED TO THINK ABT IT

There is also a good theory on reddit made by u/imonlybr16 that states this:

"Before the prologue, when you open the game for the first time, you're greeted with the opening scene involving MC running through the halls of a ruined Darkwick. The question is asked "When the world is collapsing around you, whose hand will you take?"

There you're taken to your character choice screen. The guy you choose is later shown on the railing of a balcony, about to jump off.

Now I think I have a very far fetched and vague idea as to what is going on.

In chapter 2, we learn that the person that Alan killed was Dante or at least he thought he did. But we meet Dante and he's very much alive.

This comes theory number one.

***You can't actually die on campus.***

Note the use of actually here. You can 100% still die, you just end up coming back to life.

If Rui is your home screen he talks about accidentally killing someone else in his dorm and being annoyed with having to lift them back to Obscuary. This struck me as a particularly odd dialogue because Rui's curse causes people to die.

Unless, you can't die on campus.

This would explain Dante pretty much instantly. Yes Alan killed him but yes he's alive.

The campus itself is an anomaly, stopping people from dying doesn't sound too far fetched. I expect this to be revealed with the other two members of Obscuary, as that dorm seems to have a connection to death. One of the things that always pops up is that ghouls aren't immortal, no matter how quickly they heal.

Also explains how Calamari didn't die in chapter 3. Ren ran from the dorm > the caves > the jetty and Calamari was already pretty dehydrated in the beginning.

But OP you might say, aren't all the guys talking like they believe they're going to die.

Luckily, that brings us to vauge and far fetched theory number two.

***The campus is on fire due to a rebellion***

In the very last chapter of the prologue we get to see Kaito's wickhive. There we see three pretty interesting threads.

. There's gonna be an uprising soon

. One of you is a demon

. There's a guy who could see the future

Kaito is surprised at something he sees in this scene but we don't learn what it is. This chapter's 'preview' is one of the scenes we see in the very beginning. Blood and a Lily.

I believe that the first thread is foreshadowing and will . After you meet your chosen guy standing on the railing you get a line of dialogue (or not if you picked Towa) that changes depending on who you picked. Some imply that what they're doing is going to save you(Jiro, Zenji and Sho), some apologize stating that they could protect what they cared about until the very end (Luca,Kaito,Haru and Yuri) but three characters caught my attention

Leo: Life sucks and then you die,right? I just want to make the assholes responsible regret it.

Ren: This is exactly why I didn't to do this! I knew this was how it was going to end.

Subaru: This is all my fault. I don't expect you to forgive me, but this is the least I can do. Please take this as my final act of good faith.

Especially Subaru's and Ren's, that seemingly imply either the MC's (Ren's) or their (Subaru) involvement in the current situation. Now what does this has to do with a potential uprising?

One of the things we learn from the very beginning is the inter-politics of the houses and by extension the ghouls. Especially after the fallout of the clash. Things are pretty tense and an uprising or rebellion seems to be the most likely thing.

As to what happened and why? I have no clue. Though one thing to note is that according to the prophecy, as long as the ghouls are in Darkwick, they prevent a disaster from coming. If Darkwick is destroyed however, the prophecy can't be fulfilled, or can it?"

This is such a good theory too, I really think u/imonlybr16 has probably gotten a lot of things right.

Although it's weird that death is such a big threat to us specifically, but maybe the Academy can't prevent death by curses, much like the Mesmer Matches dont work on someone who's cursed. Hhmm...

[tblsomedoodles]

Hey, I was just thinking about something to do with your Seer Twins AU that actually makes a lot of sense. I know that Donnie sees the good in his visions while Leo sees the bad, but what about if they need to connect two partial visions together to make a complete vision or something like that. This is where, what I'm calling the bridge comes into play. This third person, who is also born at or around the same time as the seers, has both the yin and yang marks on them, but can't use that part of their powers on their own and it won't even show up on scanners unless they're near one of the others while they're having or are about to have a vision. That being said, they can help the other 2 when they have waking visions weather by just being there or protecting them with their extremely powerful abilities. I think you know where I'm going with this. I can see that Mikey is the bridge for Donnie and Leo, and they don't realize it because the yin and yang symbols that he has are in his spots that have subtle swirls to them anyway. With this theory, Draxem originally scanned Mikey when one of his brothers either was about to or was having a vision while he was around, but the next time he scanned Mikey that wasn't the case, and Draxem just assumed it was because of his extremely powerful Ninpo. With this theory as well, the counsel doesn't know about the bridge thing, and just thinks some of the visions are extremely vague.

Also I can see Leo and Donnie getting charms of some sort, in the good future timeline, that helps them control their visions better.

First of all, this is very cool. and i like it a lot. Mikey having having a role in this that no one has figured out? And a little symbol that just looks like a spot with a color variation? Fantastic and adorable!

I will like to add some things to this. Like

Mikey wouldn't be able to see the visions he helps with, like at all. He's assisting but is not fully part of it.

Since the twins' standard visions are broken up bits of visions kinda scrambled around, if Mikey just being close by helps stabilize them so they can see them more linearly. (the twins don't have to be together at the time either. This is just something he passively does to either of them. Meaning Donnie's blueberry pancake vision was probably quite a bit less jumbled/more clear than he's used to having just b/c Mikey was there.)

I think it would also be cool that if he's actively helping them while they're together that, like what you said, they both get a full image of what's happening. But also like, i think for the twins, it would be more like a lucid dream than a vision. Like, normally they're just watching what's happening with flashes of feelings from whoever they're watching from. But like, if it's assisted like that, they're more aware in said vision and can possibly watch from a third person perspective rather than a first.

I also really like the idea that though that's something this third can do, it's not their main thing. I think this third is there to help if needed, but mostly is there to protect. Since Seers (especially newly come into their powers seers) are quite vulnerable during their visions, they would need someone to watch over them during that time. They're given a giant mystic source with powerful mystic abilities to go with it.

I don't think he'd need a second source like Leo and Donnie, i think his one would just be compatible with the twins enough to augment the twins abilities.

i think it would be kinda neat too if Mikey can't sleep while one of them is having a vision. Like the second one of them slips into a vision he's awake and alert and, especially early on, has no idea why. A few minutes later, he gets tired again and goes right back to sleep. Whether it's limited by distance or not, i'm not sure at the moment. But i do like this since, his job is to protect them during visions so he mystically gets woken up to do that.

Like you said, it's not something the Council would be aware of b/c of the subtlety of it. (plus, even if they did know, I think they wouldn't like the idea. They see themselves as 'protecting' the seers so i don't think they would like the idea that they already had a naturally assigned protector.)

Anyways, that's all i have time to rant about right now. But i do really like this and it's given me quite a bit to think about while i'm at work tonight lol.

Thank you!!

[catholic-academia-aesthetic]

hello! i resort to this since I don't have access to a catholic church/guide to ask this type of things. So, here's whats happening: since i was little i always had this admiration towards the Virgin Mary, i always thought that she was beautiful and kind and nowdays i still do, she's like a mother figure for me. But, in the other hand, im extremely scared of God and Jesus. i dont know why, and i feel ashamed to confess it, but I don't feel the same safe and loved with the idea of them like i do with Mary.

Also, im a lesbian, and im even more afraid because of that since i know that religion usually has something against it.

Am I a sinner? Is there a way for me to be less scared of God and Jesus? only beliving in Mary is an actual religion?

Im sorry for bothering, but i really need to start beliving in something because my life is falling apart and i don't want to lose it all. Anyways, I hope this isn't uncomfortable, and i wiah you have a lovely day, afternoon or night! 🩷

hi, thank you for reaching out and sharing all this! I'm sad to hear your life is falling apart, that must be an awful feeling. I'm here for you for whatever it's worth.

There's a lot here so my anwer will obviously be a CliffsNotes version, full of shortcuts and simplifications.

First of all, of course you are a sinner. We all are. Every human in history apart from Mary and Jesus was a sinner. Every saint was a sinner.

I see that you feel close to the Virgin Mary, that her beauty and kindness speaks to you, you admire her. But it doesn't lead you to God, on the contary, you're very afraid of Him.

This makes me wonder where did you learn about Mary? How have you come to know the things that make you admire her? How did you learn she is kind and motherly? What were your sources? Was it genuine Catholic teaching, or maybe some private ideas passed on by someone you know?

Is the person you admire actually Mary, the Mother of God, or is it some vague idea of her built in your or someone else's imagination?

We Catholics admire Mary because of her devotion to God. We admire her courage in agreeing to be the Mother of God and her humility in raising her Son who was God. We admire her because Salvation was made possible through her response and sacrifice.

If you take God out of the picture, what is there left to admire about Mary? Without God there is no Salvation and all of her life choices look rather sad and uninspiring. She's a young woman who had a baby in weird circumstances, then watched him grow into a preacher to be mercilessly tortured and killed for nothing. What's admirable about that? Many women's children were unjustly persecuted but that doesn't make these women worth our admiration. Compassion, yes. But not admiration.

So if you don't want to know God and Jesus, if you're not interested in God's plan for your salvation and in Jesus' sacrifice to bring your salvation about - what do you admire about Mary? If you don't think she did all that for God - what was the point?

Obviously you can't answer me so I'm just leaving all these questions here for you to think about.

The answer to have these things sorted out is good Catholic teaching. It'll take some time, but to really love someone you need to first get to really know them. If you want to love Mary, you need to learn who she is. And if you learn she will eventually point you towards her Son, because that's what she always does. Start with Bishop Barron's videos on Mary on youtube. Word on Fire channel and website has tons of videos and articles to explore. Take a peak at the Catechism. Whatever you do, look for legitimate Catholic teaching, stick to the mainstream. If you learn enough about Mary you'll see Jesus in a new light. Let her lead you to Him.

On a completely different note, this can be a psychological issue. When you say you're 'extremely scared of God and Jesus' it makes me worried. These are very strong words and very strong feelings to be had about this. What makes you feel this? Did someone tell you God is scary and you should be afraid of Him when you were young? Is there something in your life that makes you afraid and distrustful of men in general? Is this a case of bad, fear-based religious teaching you were subjected to? Or is it a case of independent mental issues bleeding into your religious life? Sadly, both happen often and many people share these feelings with you.

If I was your friend, I would advise you to have that looked at by a psychologist-type person. If you're clear on that front you can move to learing and Marian theology with a peace of mind. Whether you decide to do the psychological consultation or not, I would also advise you to find a spiritual guide. It can be a priest but it can also be nun, I imagine that could make you feel more comfortable. If there aren't any where you live you can literally find 5 or 10 female religious orders online and just shoot them an email. Just copy what you wrote to me if you don't feel like writing an new message. Ask for help, guidance. Maybe you can go visit them for a few days. See what they say.

You can always message me, but in your difficult situation you need more support, you need irl people to help you through this. You need them to be smarter and better at this than I am. Again, thank you for sharing all this vulnerable stuff. I hope my answer was helpful. I will be praying for you through Mary's intercession!

[whositmcwhatsit]

AN: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but it wouldn't have appeared at all without the cheerleading, suggestions, alphaing and nudging of @thatbanditqueen. Basically, it's all her fault, send complaints her way. As always, all feedback is welcome, encouraged and enjoyed. Previous Chapter Chapter 10: All the Silly Girls

Chancy almost immediately regretted refusing Joe’s offer to get her a hotel room, even more so when she got to the desolate airport and found out that she had to wait six hours to get any flight in the general direction of home.

It was very early in the morning and the smattering of people littering the lounge had all had their faces painted with the same expression of watery annoyance. She couldn’t sit, feeling her chest tighten as all the shaken pieces of the night settled down on her, so instead, she walked laps around the airport until the little news kiosk opened and she could distract herself with gossip magazines.

Gradually, life seemed to awaken. She watched work-minded people in suits appear and families with cameras around their necks corralling over-excited kids.

At some point, music started playing over the speakers and she grimaced as she heard the opening notes to “Suspicious Minds.” He was everywhere!

Not long before the flight was due to start boarding, a page came over the loudspeaker, calling her to the information desk. She wasn’t completely surprised, and she steeled herself as she made her way to the desk. A disinterested woman gestured to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chancy, that you?” Charlie sounded hungover, his voice hoarse and cracked. She wondered if he had been dragged out of bed to make the call.

“What’s up, Charlie?”

“Aw, nothin’ much, darlin’. I’m gonna go ahead and send someone down to pick you up, alright?”

Chancy pulled the receiver back and looked at it as though it was crazy since she couldn’t do the same to Charlie himself.

“I think that’d make catching my flight a lot more difficult, Charlie.”

“Look now, I know something went down last night and I don’t know what exactly happened, but you know how these things go, Chance. It’ll turn out everything is a big misunderstanding and everyone got all heated for no reason.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, not this time.”

“Come on back, darlin’ and we’ll sort this out.”

Chancy sighed and ran her fingers through her limp, tangled hair. The idea of grabbing a shower and collapsing into a bed did sound enticing, but all the rest…

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Mmhmm, I guess so,” he answered vaguely.

“And he’s there right now listening?”

“Uh huh. So, I’m gonna send Dick to pick you up-“

“I can’t come back, Charlie,” Chancy interjected. “It’s not that I’m mad. Well… no, I am, but I’ve got to have some pride, you know? The tour’s nearly done anyhow and he can probably fly someone in for the last few dates.” She forced a little laugh. “I heard there’s a tall blonde that’s eager for the job. Look, I gotta go, they’re saying we’re boarding.” She hung up as her voice started to sound strangled, her throat tightened and tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

When would she learn? When would the hurting stop? With any other repetitive injury, callouses formed to protect you, but not when it was the heart. That relied on you being smart enough to not keep making the same mistake over and over.

Standing at the gate, waiting in line to board, she noticed an older lady giving her a curious look that faded into disapproval. She glanced down at herself, still teetering on white chunky heels and wearing her white silk gown. She looked like the personification of the morning after, used and rejected. Her head was pounding, her mouth tasted disgusting, and her insides felt even worse.

After take-off, she asked the stewardess for a blanket and tried to sleep it off, but she couldn’t turn off her brain. It kept returning to the early days, when her relationship with Elvis had still been sweet and tinted by the rosy glow of first love.��

Shivering in her dress under the thin, cheap airplane blanket, Chancy thought about the old days and wondered whether dating Elvis had ever been simple, or if it only seemed that way.

Early Fall 1955

It was just before nine when there was a knock on the door. Alicia was laying prone on the couch, feet wiggling in the air as she read one of Chancy’s magazines, and Chancy cleaned up the mess from girls’ night with Margie and Barb. The girls always came over on Tuesday evenings because Grandma was out late at church with the woman’s club, and this reprieve gave the girls time and space to gossip and make plans without whispering or provoking Grandma’s tutting and lectures on virtue.

Chancy snatched up Margie’s sweater from the table, smiling to herself at her friend’s forgetfulness, and opened the door. Her face dropped in surprise as, instead of Margie, there was a tall, beautiful man in a pink sports jacket leaning against the door jamb.

“Hey baby, you gonna let me in?”

Chancy gasped and snatched his arm, yanking him through the door. Elvis laughed as they stumbled into the hallway and he practically fell against her. They kissed without thinking, like it was the natural next step. Chancy thought her body was just trained that way by now.

“When did you get home?” she asked when they finally broke apart, then smacked his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He laughed again, impossibly delighted with himself.

“Only got back this morning, we drove all night. Ain’t my baby happy to see her guy?” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled, making her squirm.

“Of course I’m happy to see you!” She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hungrily, loving the way he turned so pliant as soon as she took charge. When they broke apart, they stood back and just drank in each other with their eyes. Then the forelock of his hair fell down, still slightly curly from that experimental permanent a few weeks ago and his eyes were a little shiny with those little creases on his high cheekbones that betrayed his exhaustion.

“You look tired,” she observed, lifting her hand to meet his as he reached for her.

“You sound like Mama. I slept all day, I’m fine. Came over to see if you wanted to go for a drive?”

“I can’t, Grandma’s out at a church meeting and I gotta watch Alicia.” His eyebrows lifted and his stance changed completely as soon as he realised they were unsupervised.

“Oh, okay.” He tightened his fingers around hers and led her back into her own house. 

In the living room, Alicia was still deeply engrossed in her article on Jimmy Dean. Elvis turned to Chancy and put his finger to his lips and tiptoed over to the sofa like he was a character in a cartoon.

“What are you doing reading that, young lady?!” He snatched the magazine from her, and Alicia shrieked high and loud enough to rouse every dog in the city. This was, of course, hilarious to Elvis, who almost fell down, he was laughing so hard. Every time he managed to straighten himself up, he would look at Alicia’s indignant face and start himself off again.

Chancy snatched the magazine from him and smacked him across the back with it, inviting Alicia to come help her fetch some drinks and offering her a cookie to smooth her ruffled feathers.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Lil’un,” Elvis said, squeezing the nine-year-old into his side with his arm around her shoulders. “You know I was just fooling around. You ain’t sore, are ya? Not with your little old Elvis?” He pouted his luscious lips and Alicia relented, smiling around the cookie. “I knew you couldn’t stand to be mad at me for long, you’re just like your sister.” He winked at Chancy, who tried to roll her eyes but her pink cheeks and growing smile gave her away.

Back on the sofa, Chancy couldn’t help looking at him and grinning. It felt a little like Christmas having him home finally and all to herself. Almost.

“You know, some of the girls were talking about you at school the other day,” Alicia informed Elvis. “They were saying that you were the most and that you were gonna be more famous than Pat Boone. Then Frannie in my gym class said that you were dating her sister, but Kathy Jean said that you were dating her cousin.”

“Heck, no wonder I’m tired,” Elvis remarked. “And what d’you say to all that, honey?”

“Well, Chancy said I’m not allowed to talk about you two being steadies and that you’re gonna get married. She said it’s private.” Alicia pulled a face that showed exactly what she thought about that.

“Naw, you can set ‘em straight, honey, You tell ‘em I only have one sweetheart.” He dipped his head down to kiss Chancy’s cheek, nuzzling down to her neck with the tip of his nose. She could feel his arm tighten around her as he pulled her against him and she had to nudge him in the side with her elbow to get him to pull back. He sighed slightly and turned back at Alicia, who was looking at them with an expression of fascination.

“Are you really gonna be more famous than Pat Boone?”

“Well, I hope to.”

“Are you rich?”

“Hmm, not yet, but hope to be.”

“Will you move to Hollywood and live in a mansion with palm trees and a swimming pool?”

“Well, maybe I’ll get my own swimming pool right here, what d’ya say?” He gave Chancy a soft smile and she rested her arm on his leg, feeling the tense muscle of his thigh against her forearm as he jiggled it constantly. Even worn out he couldn’t stop moving.

“What about tennis courts?” Alicia continued.

“Wait a minute, are you a reporter?” he asked, squinting at her with playful suspicion. “What’s with all the questions?” 

Alicia shrugged and finished her drink, her eyes studying him intently. There was obviously more of an interrogation coming.

“Elvis, can I live with you guys when you marry my sister?”

Elvis grinned, his fingers twitching against Chancy’s shoulder. He adjusted his hand so that they were brushing her neck, his thumb tickling from her ear down to her shoulder and back again.

“Hey, I thought it was you and me getting married, Lil’un?! Wait, is this you breaking up with me? Wow, way to let a guy down easy!” His voice was high and playful as he reached over and tugged one of Alicia’s plaits.

“I’m only nine!” she returned, frowning at him like he was crazy. He tilted his head and nodded at this as though this was a serious consideration, though his eyes were glittering. “You’ll have to wait and I guess I can marry you next.”

Elvis threw his head back and roared with laughter, his breath hitching as he collapsed against Chancy. “Oh Lord, you got it all worked out, don’tcha!”

Chancy rolled her eyes at the two of them and pointedly told Alicia that it was time for bed.

“She’s a gas,” Elvis remarked, already twisting on the sofa and clasping Chancy’s face, kissing her softly and then harder like he was trying to check she was really there. Chancy didn’t answer, sliding her arms underneath his and pulling him in tighter. It was never enough, she could never hold him tight enough to keep him still and keep him with her, but she could also never stop trying.

“You know, I was dreaming about you earlier today, honey.” He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

“No, you weren’t.” She could feel her cheeks throbbing and she shifted a little closer to him.

“Don’t tell me what I was or weren’t doing,” he retorted. “I’m telling you right now, I dreamed about you. I know it was you, baby.” 

“How?” she countered. “How’d you know it was me and not one of those pretty girls you met on the road?”

“’Cause I don’t dream about no girls on the road,” he muttered scornfully. He tugged her hand, almost pulling her face first into his chest. “Look at this here hand, this itty bitty hand was for sure in my dream.”

He leant down and kissed the first knuckle of her index finger and she inhaled sharply. She caught the sparkle in his eyes as he looked up at her through his brows and felt his lips stretch against her skin into a smirk. He kissed her finger on the next knuckle, his breath tickling her skin. She pressed her thighs together as he leaned in, his other hand gripping her hip through her skirt.

“What else,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“What else was in your dream?”

“Oh. Well… I don’t know if I should say.” Chancy blushed as he placed her hand on her lap and stretched his arm out, his calloused fingertips finding her ankle and dragging up her calf.

“You been good while I was gone?” he murmured. His finger slid in a swoop around her calf muscle, which tensed and twitched, and into the dip at the back of her knee. “Ain’t been doing nothing that’ll break my poor ole heart now, have you?” There was a hard backbone to his playful babyish tone that told her he wasn’t fooling around, supported by over a year of hard-won experience.

“Now Elvis you know what category they’re looking to vote me in the yearbook next year, don’t you?” she returned in the same tone. “It’s a new one. ‘Most likely to die an old maid waiting for Elvis Presley to marry her’. But let me tell you, there’s stiff competition.”

He gave a little laugh that sounded slightly sheepish. “Now, you know that ain’t true.”

“It is too true! I see those girls in the papers just like everybody else.”

“You know that’s all for publicity, baby, it’s all made up!” He was playing up his ‘aw shucks shy boy’ act, maybe too tired to remember that Chancy saw through it like a window pane.

“Yeah, I know I know,” she muttered, sounding unconvinced.

Elvis didn’t seem to realise that she was older now, a mature woman of seventeen, and she talked with the girls at school, who were dating boys off doing their duty in the service, or at college. They all talked about how boys were different, weaker and more helpless against their urges. A girl had to accept that a man’s eye may stray when he was away, it was natural, but it was important that he was true in the ways that mattered, in his heart. Her friend Margie had even brought in a dime store book about love gone awry from tawdry affairs.They had to keep it hidden because it had a picture of a woman in just her slip reclining against a desk with her suited boss looking like he was about to make an advance.

But Chancy didn’t need books. As a child, she had witnessed the pain it caused a woman when she had a man that wasn’t true to her. She had seen the bitterness that had sprung from her mother’s humiliation, the poison that fermented and seeped into every aspect of their lives. She had promised herself she would never end up like that.

“Come on now,” Elvis cajoled. He softly sang a few lines of Patti Page’s ‘Why Don’t You Believe Me’: “How else can I tell you, What more can I do, Why don't you believe me, I love only you.”

At the final sweet note, she smacked him in the chest, making him turn it into a wheezy groan.

“That ain’t fair!” she told him, half-seriously. “You know you win every time you do that!”

He laughed in a knowing way, before gritting his teeth and grabbing her by the biceps to give her a quick shake.

“You gotta believe me though, honey” he said in a flat voice, a jarring change of tone to his abrupt ‘attack’. “I ain’t dreaming of no other girls and certainly ain’t loving ‘em, nothing like that.” She felt him slide his fingers between hers and pull her closer for a kiss and she sank willingly. They barely heard the rattling of the door.

“I’m home! Whose car is that out front?”

By the time that Chancy’s grandma had shed her coat and purse and come into the living room, they were both standing up straight in the living room looking incredibly guilty. Chancy could almost feel the pressure of her grandmother’s eyes as she checked their clothes to ensure they didn’t look rumpled or hastily buttoned.

“Elvis, it’s good to see you, son. I didn’t know you were back.”

“It’s good to see you too, Grammy. Well, I- I just got back today, it was supposed to be something of a surprise you see. I didn’t let on to nobody that I was coming.” He awkwardly clasped his hands together at his groin, glanced down at himself and then hastily put them behind his back. 

Chancy bit down on a smile. The man could play to huge crowds but he still got nervous facing a tiny grey-haired lady.

“I bet your mother sure was pleased to see you. Give her my regards, won’t you?” There was a long pause as they registered the polite eviction notice.

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He nodded with the entire top half of his body and turned to Chancy. “I-I guess I’ll be going then. It was nice to see you, ma’am.”

Chancy started to lead him to the front door, and as soon as they reached the hallway he sped up and pressed himself against her back, his large hand splayed against her belly. Chancy exhaled loudly.

“Is that your car out front, Elvis?” They broke apart as Grandma decided to accompany them to the front door.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the love of my life right there.” Chancy glanced over her shoulder and shot him a playfully indignant look and he shrugged, his expression seemed to suggest that he had no control over what he was saying. “I mean, yes, it is.”

“Well, it’s very fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Both he and Chancy stood awkwardly on the doorstep,it looked as though Grandma was going to play spectator while they said goodbye, but after warning him to drive safely, she went back into the house.

Chancy tilted her head and gave him an apologetic look. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Baby, can’t you come for a drive?” he whispered, grabbing her hips and pulling like he was going to bundle her into the car no matter what she said. “It’s still early.”

“You know I want to, honey, but…”

He hurried forward and stepped up onto the doorjamb with her, crushing her mouth and her body against him.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that. Just flat out insane.”

“You’re already certifiable,” she returned, linking her hands behind his neck and rumpling his upturned collar.

“Well, you know what a crazy person’d do?” He scooped her up and turned as if he was about to take off with her. “You’re so little I could hide you in the glove compartment. No one’d know.”

“I think that if you tried that Grandma would make sure you ended up locked in your own trunk.” He sighed, nodding in acknowledgement, and released her so that she was standing on her own two feet.

“One day, Cha Cha, one day…” He squeezed her cheeks, gritting his teeth as he looked at her squashed pout, before kissing it. She could feel the tension thrumming through him.

“I know,” she sighed. She gave him one last, sweet long kiss and fixed his collar. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He climbed into his car, still looking pouty and sad. It made her heart ache. “I love you, love you, love you. Really, I love you, baby.”

Chancy watched the pink and black Cadillac disappear down the street, smoothing the front of her skirt and trying to will down the frustration, hunger and sadness that were coursing through her. She reminded herself that she loved her grandmother and didn’t want to strangle her. Likewise her sister. She could wait until tomorrow. After all, they had forever.

The present

By the time Chancy finally saw her sister and niece at the arrival gate, she had spent the majority of the day on planes, waiting for planes, or getting on and off them. She forced herself to show a little enthusiasm as she came down the tunnel, ignoring the way that her shoes were rubbing the backs of her heels.

Alicia took one look at her and seemed to size up the situation even if she didn’t understand it. She grabbed Chancy’s bag from her and turned to lead her out. Four-year-old Faye was excited to see what present Auntie Chancy had brought back from her vacation and Chancy was quick to pull out the candy and teddy bear she had grabbed from the airport gift shop during her last layover.

In the car, Alicia finally gave in to her curiosity.

“You know, when I couldn’t get a hold of you the past couple of weeks I imagined some pretty wild things, but joining the Rockettes was not one of them.”

“Did it take you all the time from the gate to just now to think of that one?”

“Well, I was gonna go with Vegas showgirl, but I kinda wanted to say ‘Rockettes’.”

Chancy smiled in spite of herself. “Look, I’m sorry about not calling. It just got a little crazy on the road and I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, that’s what Elvis said.”

“What?”

“Elvis. He called me- When was it- the day before yesterday and I was so surprised I thought someone was pulling my leg at first. You know, in all the time I’ve known him I don’t think he’s ever called me personally.”

“What did he want?”

“Well, I’d been calling all over trying to reach you and no goddamn soul at any one of the hotels said they had a record of you having a room. I mean, they wouldn’t even confirm that Elvis was staying there. Lord, Grandma might have had one of her headaches if she’d heard the way I spoke to some of the receptionists on the phone.

“Anyway, out of the blue, Elvis called and he was teasing me like he always does, saying that I’d hassled the front desk so much that they’d told Joe he should call the FBI because I was a crazed stalker. And he knew it must be me because I’d been in love with him since I was seven years old.”

Even in the retelling, Alicia was absently touching her face and had two spots of colour on her cheeks.

“So that’s it, he called you because you upset the hotel?”

“Oh, no, so we caught up. Boy, I always forget how funny he can be. Then he says that Joe will give me the details of how to reach his room whenever I needed to. I said that was sweet of him and I was honoured and all, but I really needed the number of your room because I needed to speak to you.”

Chancy felt her stomach start to sink.

“Well then he couldn’t get me off the phone quick enough. He said he’d get you to call me and he hung up on me!”

So, he had known that she hadn’t told anyone about the two of them. She imagined that had not gone down well. She wondered how much that had fed into what he had done, but the truth was that trying to follow Elvis’ logic was like chasing a raindrop down a window.

“I was kidding about the Rockettes, but you’re okay, right?” Alicia shot her a sideways glance as she negotiated traffic. “You look-“

“Like I’ve been catching planes since the early hours of this morning? Yeah, I know. It was just one of those things, you know how it goes.”

It wasn’t the first time that Chancy and Elvis had fallen out. It was not even the first time that she had argued with him and caught the next flight home, but it felt different this time. It was different. And in the days afterwards, it felt like she was recovering, beaten up and healing, from a terrible accident or an operation.

It must have seemed that way to others too, because Grandma kept making her ambrosia salad and serving up extra portions of food at every meal, and Alicia gave her a free cut and blow dry which was usually reserved for first dates and birthdays. It made Chancy think she must seem really pitiful, but nobody actually said anything or pressed her for details, because that was not how things operated in her family.

“Tell the truth, Grandma, were you surprised?” Chancy asked as Alicia’s new boyfriend Cliff navigated around the potholes marking the unmade road to their house in the failing light. It was a week later, and Chancy had finally begun to feel somewhat normal again. At least physically.

Her grandmother gave a demure smile and replied, “Of course I was, it was a lovely surprise.”

Chancy had been dubious about the idea of a surprise birthday party when Alicia had suggested it. Celebrating someone living all the way to eighty by taking them to a strange place in the dark and yelling ‘Surprise’ at them unexpectedly seemed a recipe for disaster, but she had to concede Alicia’s point, the lady did deserve to be spoiled.

Organising the party had been a decent distraction for Chancy too, though not as taxing as she had hoped. She still had far too much time to think. Little by little, she came to view the time on tour as a strange waking dream, an answer to the ‘what-ifs’ and the daydreams that floated up on random, dreary days. It was proof that you could never go back. She tried to tell herself, as optimistically as she could manage, that it had been a conclusion added fifteen years after the fact. A fitting conclusion that reaffirmed that she had made the right choice leaving for once and for all.

And then she saw the fleet of Cadillacs in the dirt driveway in front of the old ranch house.

Well, shit, her brain supplied helpfully.

“What’s all this?” asked Grandma. “Not another surprise?”

“Uh, not just for you, Grandma,” Alicia replied, glancing curiously at Chancy, who was trying to sink down in her seat.

“There’s gotta be nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth of cars out there,” Cliff marvelled, peering through his windshield. “Lord almighty, what is that?!”

“That is a Stutz Blackhawk,” Chancy informed him. “And the last thing I wanted to see today.”

“God, it’s a beauty!” Cliff barely put on the parking brake before he was out of the truck and circling the car.

Sonny was leaning against one of the Cadillacs smoking and he nodded at Chancy as she climbed out of the truck and turned to help Grandma down from the step.

“He ain’t gonna shoot me for looking, is he?” Cliff asked, pausing his circling as he noticed the shoulder holsters.

“Probably best not to try and find out,” Chancy replied, ducking her head to hide her smirk as Cliff’s panicked expression.

Opening the front door, they followed the noise to the kitchen where Elvis, his cousin Billy, Charlie and the whole contingent of Stanley boys were sitting at their kitchen table apparently drinking coffee with their housekeeper/tenant Ruth and her husband, Harold.

“Surprise,” Alicia trilled awkwardly under her breath, shrugging in answer to Chancy’s questioning look.

“Hey, there she is!” Elvis observed with playful exasperation like they were late to an appointment. “Happy birthday, Grammy!” He rose from his chair and circled the table to give Grandma a hug.

If Cliff had been astounded by the cash value of the automobiles parked outside, Chancy could only imagine his wonder at the amount of twenty-four karat gold standing in the kitchen.

 Always one to dress for an occasion, Elvis was wearing a cream suit with a blue silk shirt and a gold ring on every single finger, not to mention a twisted gold necklace that looked like a bolero tie and his usual ID bracelet. Just one of the rings on his fingers could have paid the property taxes and resurfaced their driveway with a new kitchen bought with the leftovers.

“Thank you, it’s lovely to see you, Elvis… and friends,” Grandma said pointedly, but Elvis was too busy kissing Alicia’s cheek and meeting little Faye to hear or respond to the polite prompt.

“By God, this family makes pretty girls, don’t it, Charlie?” he marvelled, glancing over his shoulder at Charlie, who was quick to pick up the cue and concur enthusiastically. Chancy was only surprised he didn’t do it in harmony.

She only had a second to panic when Elvis turned to her, wondering if he would skip her altogether or, worse, say something, before he smoothly pecked her cheek with his soft lips and withdrew, leaving her in a mist of confusion and his cologne.

“Now, Grammy, I got you a gift,” Elvis said in his serious ‘about to recite a psalm or overwhelm you with information about his latest fascination’ voice. “But I couldn’t get the guy to deliver it sooner than tomorrow. Something about unions and overtime. So, just so I didn’t show up empty-handed, you see the white Cadillac out front?” He adjusted his sunglasses and hung a keychain from his index finger, gently bringing up Grandma’s hand so that he could drop it into her palm. “It’s yours.”

Grandma put an overwhelmed hand on top of her head like she was actively trying to stop him from blowing her mind.

“Look here, Elvis, you can’t be throwing your money away on an old woman like me…” 

Elvis laughed, his face breaking into that dazzling, irrepressible expression that you couldn’t help but try to mirror, and squeezed her into his side.

“‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God’, you know that one, don’t you?” he murmured down to her ear.

“Matthew 19:24,” Grandma nodded solemnly. “Amen.”

“Besides, pretty lady like you needs a fancy car to go on all her dates in style.”

Chancy beamed as she watched her grandmother flush pink and regress about sixty years as she swatted at his arm.

“C’mon, Grandma, let’s go take a look at your new car,” Alicia suggested, sending Chancy a meaningful look. Though Chancy wasn’t sure what the meaning actually was.

Everyone followed and stood on the porch as the tiny old lady primly perched in the extravagant boat of a car. Somehow, Chancy found herself standing next to Elvis though she had been forcing herself not to look at him except when everyone else was. Which was most of the time, but it felt like a compromise.

“This is really nice of you,” she murmured. He didn’t say anything at first, smiling slightly as Alicia tried to enthusiastically strong-arm Grandma into turning over the engine.

“She deserves it,” he said softly. “And, well, she’s the reason you-“ He couldn’t seem to finish the thought, gesturing to her head to toe with a bejewelled hand.

The pressure grew the longer they stood there and Chancy’s thoughts started yammering louder and louder at the wall of her skull. She wondered if she should say something, try to explain maybe why she never told anyone about the two of them, apologise for running off (no), tell him that she missed him? She could ask him how the rest of the tour went, that seemed relatively innocuous, or was it..

Eventually, he grabbed her hand, shooting her a smile that had her questioning whether they had ever argued at all.

“C’mon, let’s go take the birthday girl for a ride in her new car.”

Not giving anyone the chance to make a choice, Elvis had Chancy and her grandmother crammed into the front seat beside him and Alicia and some of the guys piled in the back before he took off down the uneven drive, laughing uproariously as he turned a ten-thousand dollar car into a pretty effective fairground ride.

As they hit the highway, Chancy fretted over her grandmother’s ability to recover from shock for the second time that evening as Elvis had them going like he was trying to break a record.

“I think Grandma would like to celebrate another birthday next year, Elvis. I’m pretty sure we all would!” Chancy said nervously, watching the speed gauge creeping up relentlessly. He shot her a gleeful grin and lifted his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, making her wonder how much he could actually see out of those at night.

“You don’t trust me, honey?” he asked. He shrugged. “You’re probably right, you should take over…” He lifted his hands off the wheel and there was a chorus of cries and pleas which only tickled him more, but at last he took control of the car again. Chancy closed her eyes and exhaled and she felt his warm hand grip her knee.

“Hey,” he murmured softly. “I got ya. You okay?” She nodded, earning herself a lopsided smile and his fingers rubbing the inside of her knee.

Back at the house, they all tumbled out of the car like sailors returning home after months at sea. The guys played this up a little because they knew that it amused Elvis, but Alicia and Grandma were genuine as they linked arms to walk to the porch.

Chancy watched them through the windshield as Elvis continued to grip her knee; not hard enough to force her to stay, but firm enough that she didn’t feel right pulling away.

“How long are you home?” she asked, watching him fiddling with the radio, catching snatches of songs before dismissing them and moving on.

“Couple of weeks. Then I got rehearsals in LA before Vegas.” He frowned as the airwaves were filled with the sound of electric guitars riffing and abruptly shut off the radio. “Goddamn caterwauling. Who in the hell is that?” She looked up in the direction of his irritated nod to see Cliff peering into the passenger window of the Stutz.

“Oh, that’s Alicia’s boyfriend. Although I think he may be considering leaving her for your car…”

“Boyfriend, but I thought she got married. I mean, the kid and everything.”

“Yeah, it didn’t work out. They got divorced last year.”

“Hmm, lot of that going around…” He considered his right hand around her knee, before tapping her a few times with his thumb. “Well, guess I better go check him out.”

“Oh no,” Chancy murmured, before hastily following Elvis out of the car. She passed the men as Elvis, backed up by a couple of his guys, approached Cliff, who immediately stumbled back with a look of awe on his face.

“Oh, Elvis, man, it’s an honour to meet you. I’ve been a fan since you started out, man, since I was a little kid!”

Chancy winced at that one and stood at the screen door to watch what happened next. Elvis was speaking too softly to be heard from the porch, but she saw Cliff straighten and look very serious, before nodding emphatically. Elvis nodded too and opened the door to his Stutz. Cliff went to lean forward, but stopped again and looked up at Elvis, who smiled one of his charming smiles and pulled the corners of his jacket back as he hooked his hands somewhere near his hips.

“What’s going on?” Alicia asked, opening the screen door.

“I’m pretty sure Elvis just threatened your boyfriend with his gun,” Chancy answered. “And now he’s letting him sit in his car.”

“Sounds about right,” Alicia nodded. “I should go… chaperone.”

Chancy went back into the house where Charlie and Billy were helping her grandmother uncover platters on the kitchen table and counters. Like a good hostess, she encouraged them to help themselves to the leftovers from the party before declaring that she had had enough excitement for one day and was going to retire to bed.

A few minutes later, Elvis came in and the kitchen suddenly became smaller and more dingy in comparison. At least in Chancy’s eyes; he, however, acted like he had lived there all his life, taking the plate that Billy handed him and eyeing up the food.

“Am I supposed to just serve this up with my hands, man?” he muttered, and Billy and Charlie started rooting through the drawers for cutlery.

“Make yourself at home, boys,” Chancy remarked, leaning against the sink.

“Looks like we have to. Didn’t Grammy teach you nothing about hospitality?” Elvis smirked, examining a mini slider pensively before taking a bite.

Chancy feigned outrage and whipped some dishwater and suds at him. He jumped out of the way, looking momentarily surprised before laughing.

“Careful now, woman,don’t make me shoot you,” he warned, his eyes twinkling as he patted the colt tucked into the front of his waistband.

“Is that how you threatened Cliff? Where is he, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s taking your sister for a drive.” Of course he was. “He’s a nice guy, we just had to discuss some things first.”

Chancy snorted and went to the refrigerator, unconsciously sliding into the role of hostess and passing out drinks to everyone. Elvis gave her a look when some of the boys took up her offer of beer and she was tempted to have one herself, just to remind him that he was in her house. Except she didn’t actually like beer and her petulance had its limits.

By that time, Alicia and Cliff had returned, giddy from their ride in the Stutz. Cliff was excitedly telling Elvis and the guys about the features like he was trying to sell them the car and while Elvis was grinning good naturedly, the boys were shooting each other sneering looks. Alicia caught that too, because she grabbed her boyfriend by the arm and thanked Elvis for letting them take the car for a spin.

Elvis shook his head as she dragged Cliff out of the room while he was still babbling about automatic headlights and gold-plated steering wheels.

“God, Lil'un is all grown up, it’s so weird, man. You remember when she was gaga for me?”

“Yeah, well, lots of us girls used to be silly like that,” Chancy returned, taking a sip of her coke. She watched as the barb landed, and he lowered his head, the muscle in his cheek flickering as he clenched his jaw.

“Yeah, used to be,” he echoed with an empty chuckle, lifting his eyebrows to the floor.

Charlie immediately forced an abrupt laugh and tried to lighten the mood with a joke like a desperate comedian losing his audience.

“No, cool it, man,” Elvis snapped, shooting him a dark look.

Chancy took a deep breath, looked around her poky kitchen, and drew confidence from the fact that she was home.

“Could I talk to you?” she asked, not recognising her own voice. Elvis glanced up like he wasn’t sure she was talking to him, before nodding. “We can go up to my room.”

As they walked to the stairs, she could hear the guys start murmuring and whispering in the kitchen like a sewing circle.

“Mind your step, some of these old boards are pretty creaky. Don’t wanna wake Grandma.”

“Well, if that ain’t a goddamn blast from the past,” he mumbled dryly. She snorted and tried to focus on what she was doing, growing increasingly aware that his eyes were probably on her ass. Not speaking made it worse, increasing the tension so that by the time they reached her bedroom door, her heart was pounding and her hands were sweating.

As soon as she turned on the light, she regretted her choice of venue, hurrying to snatch up discarded outfit choices for the party from her bed and chair.

“Don’t say a word!”

He lifted his hands in submission and just smirked, his apple cheekbones making a full appearance as he took off his sunglasses and looked around.

“You can take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the newly cleared chair as she perched on the edge of her bed. He promptly sat down next to her on the bed. The glint in his eye told her that he knew exactly what he was doing too. She stood up again and stepped across to her dresser, leaning back against it.

“I just wanted to talk to you because I didn’t like how we left it,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And we never talk about it, you know? We never-“

“Aw hell, what’s there to say, honey?” he asked, tapping his glasses against his knee like he was keeping the beat. “We were neither us firing on all cylinders. I weren’t myself, I just… weren’t myself. The goddamn tour, everything going on with Priscilla, every sonofabitch from Alaska to Florida tryin’ to either take me out or shake me down. It’s a goddamn mess.”

“Well, yeah,” she said hesitantly, “but-“

“And that chick… You know she went to the papers? Told ‘em she and I are engaged and that we’re getting married in October. I don’t know why she picked October. I tell ya, everyone’s got an angle.” He sighed, a huge exhale that lifted his shoulders and made him look like a sad little boy facing the music.

“You know the goddamn truth of it? The only girl that’s never run to the papers, never told no one that we were engaged or married or that I knocked her up by having a picture taken with her, was you.” He looked up at her through his brows, his thick lashes and open pouty mouth striking that perfect balance between pitiful and beautiful in a way that had her digging her nails into her arms to stop herself from reaching for him.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve said a lot more to a lot of people,” she murmured.

“No, you know you don’t need to say it out loud for me to hear it, baby. You never have. Just think it real loud and I’ll get it.”

Chancy raised an eyebrow and tried to find some grit within herself as he approached her slowly, pretending to listen to her thoughts.

“Whoa, Cha-Cha, I-I didn’t know you knew those words!” he teased, winking. “Goddamn! Don’t think even I’ve heard some of ‘em before. Lord have mercy!” He took hold of her hands, waggling them loosely, before sliding his fingers between hers. “C’mon, baby, you know you can’t stay mad at me, just like I can’t stay mad at you.”

“I don’t know, I’m still pretty mad.” She would have preferred it if her voice had been a little less breathy.

He ducked down, giving her a full blast of his little boy’s pout, then bit his lip and leaned in. He kissed her, a soft touch of his lips against hers

“How about now?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” she insisted, but wrinkling her nose did nothing to negate the stupid smile on her face. He kissed her again, harder, tilting his head curiously.

“What about now?”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Uh oh, we seem to be going backwards, let me try-“ He scooped her up by the waist and caressed her lips with his, his tongue sliding in to meet hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew up to her tiptoes, pressing in as warmth flushed through her, need driving out anger, determination, and thought. She was just one of those silly girls again. Or always had been.  @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @missmaywemeetagain, @from-memphis-with-love, @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @c-rosenn, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel, @freudianslumber, @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters, @prompted-wordsmith. @literally-just-elvis-fics, @eliseinmemphis. @lookingforrainbows, @stylespresleyhearted, @amydarcimarie, @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus

[ask-the-kh-crew]

To the Age of Fairytales kids: How much do you know about *vague gestures* future stuff? Like with Xehanort.

Brain: "The Book Of Prophecies is supposed to be the key to solving the future's mysteries, but as of late I find that it has given me more questions about the future than answers. It does not mention this 'Xehanort' you're speaking of, but maybe I need to study it even more thoroughly. There has to be something..."

Elrena: "I don't know anyone named Xehanort, but it's kind of a lame name if you ask me. Sounds like an old geezer."

Ephemer: "Really? I think it rules! Would name my kid that, honestly."

Player nods.

Lauriam: "I think it has a sort of majestic quality to it. If it's from the future, I guess it might be important to remember it."

Elrena: "Hey, Lauriam? What's up with those two?"

Ventus and Skuld are both standing in the corner, looking incredibly distraught.

Ephemer: "Hey! You two doing alright?"

Ventus: "I don't know...I just got this awful feeling when you guys mentioned that name, but I have no idea why."

Skuld: "Yeah, that's exactly what happened to me, too. I think I might have to stay away from this 'Xehanort'..."

[woodsfae]

B5 s04e04 Falling Towards Apotheosis previous episode - table of contents 

I had to look up what Apotheosis meant, having only been able to draw up the vague idea of one of itstwo definitions: the highest point smething can reach. And the other, glorifying something, or someone, to the point of godhood. 

Hm, god Sheridan or god Valen?? Surely Valen became a sort of demi-god to the Minbari. Probably Sheridan? But it would be cool to see Sinclair one more time. 

Ivanova updates us on the situation via an emergency broadcast to B5. That's clever, I like that as a method of exposition/don't forget where the plot is. 

Wow, Sheridan parting the stampeding masses just by walking through. Also lol at the 90s fear of trampling. Looks like some early stage apotheosis alright. 

the credits: "The year is 2261 [...]" Partner: "If this doesn't actually happen in 2261 I'm going to be so pissed." 

Personally, I would not.

Garibaldi is suspicious of and investigating a god. Lorien is pretty strange and a very random, new element without much explanation. 

And he's having a weird time. As he says, the captain disappeared for even longer, and just says he's back from the dead and everyone's fine with him running things. But Garibaldi comes back and gets closely monitored and not allowed to return to work without multiple medical examinations despite being seemingly fine.

Well. He's wrong because he is compromised, but yeah, they also have no way of knowing that the captain isn't. More of that being venerated by the people, clearly. 

Sheridan better not get a swelled head over it, is all I'm saying. If he doesn't take his ascension with an aw shucks then is he really a wholesome side of corn-fed Iowa beef? 

Morden's still fucked up. And he's dictating defense policy on Centauri, while Cartagia blithely agrees. 

Cartagia has another secret room which I assume witll be as fucked up as his secret torture-murder chamber.  

Aaaand it is. He has a secret council where he sits in a room with the corpses of deceased members of court. Lovely. A very sane sort of thing to do, to keep oneself grounded. 

A very sane plan, Cartagia. I commend you on the whole "become a god by being the person who caused the end of Centauri while dying too" is a normal thing to want and possible to achieve.  Very unfortunately possible to achieve. And lowkey destined. 

Living the trainwreck he willfully set into motion would be satisfying if it wasn't so horrible and tragic and wide-reaching in scope and loss of life. 

Garibaldi is most likely clean of Vorlon technology impanted in him. But sadly he cannot, or does not, test if he has a secret personality implanted in him by psicorps. 

The Vorlons are going fucking murder-serious, wiping out planets, colonies, and ships. 

I suddenly wish I paid more attention to the types of clothes and colors of clothes that Delenn wears. Her red and blue outfit is vivid, and I feel like I recognize it, and she's worn it before. 

Cute Delenn and John. The sweeping romance feels well earned, and solidly set up, and the actors have really good chemistry. 

Ah! They finally mentions not-Kosh. He's still here. Sheridan wants him gone. 

Lyta! And she's here to help carry out Sheridan's plan to kill not-Kosh! Presumably while Garibaldi is off trying to kick him out without knowing about his plan as not to betray it telepathically. 

Another planet down. With all this destruction the Shadows have certainly won ideologically already. 

Y'know, I don't remember Sheridan saying "force him to leave," but Garibaldi apparently heard "fire guns at him a lot till he kicks your asses." Like, I didn't get the sense that was Sheridan's order. Luckily, no-Kosh didn't kill any of them. 

Sheridan shares information about when the Vorlons might arrive at Centauri Prime freely when Londo asks. 

Operation: Kill A God is underway. Lyta lures him out, with the fragment of Kosh that is/was in Sheridan. I don't know if the fragment of Kosh passed on when Sheridan died or not. 

not-Kosh walks into a trap of an electrical field and a couple dozen soldiers firing plasma guns. 

Although they succeed in discorporating the Vorlon, it still isn't down! 

Ah, it seems that the Kosh fragment survived! It, and a bit of Lorien, join the discorporated Vorlon, and reverberate outwards like ripples on water till they joined the Vorlon ship and exploded. Wow, Kosh literally turning on the Vorlons that are massacring in his name. At least we know Kosh didn't approve of it! Not all Vorlons :P

Londo's assassination plan is to lure Cartagia out to Narn, to have a trial for and "execute" G'Kar on his homeworld. 

John Sheridan is going to die young becase he died already, and Lorien could only give him so much biochemical energy, Yeah, younger death, but like the mildest of death sentences. That would be pretty rough as a member of a long-lived species! Counting on sixty years or more with John and already knowing you'll outlive him by a lot would make the loss of that sixty years pretty heartbreaking. 

Awwww they're being cute again. Sheridan and Delenn are engaged. I wonder what the Minbari custom is - or was that the three nights of sleeping that was interupted by puppet!Anna?

Cartagia is having G'Kar's eye "plucked out" fuck man. That's so augh. C'mon. If he must lose an eye have it be in a fight, it's just overwhelmingly negative. No one else is getting this. 

Also a bummer point to have the episode end on! It does build a sort of dread fascination though. What horrible thing is going to happen to G'Kar next episode. 

onwards!

[overelegantstranger]

madpunk inflected mental health and hearing voices talk under the cut

i've been thinking about the hearing voices thing. For a little clarity I'm going to define my terms. by "hearing voices" I'm meaning three things:

the near constant thoughts of "you should die, you should kill yourself, everyone would be better off if you weren't around" that happen on my period, and which always feel like they're coming from, if not literally outside my head, outside "my space" in my head. At at least one point, they felt/sounded like they were coming from a female, mother-y person, whose voice was very specific and distinct

the similar, but not identical, thoughts that can happen when i'm, or possibly Tank is, struggling with feeling angry or resentful or upset. The last time he experienced it, he described it as an internal radio he couldn't get away from, to the point of trying to physically block his ears and drown it out. These often start as like, for example, "I can't believe they would do that" and might be Tank's or my thoughts, and escalate until they become a "radio", causing feelings of anger and resentment that are disproportionate to the thoughts that either of us would have laid claim to

The having of at least two other people in my head who seem able to project thoughts to me. This one is, in a way, the hardest to identify, because I thought it was normal for a long time, and I don't precisely know how much internal dialogue is "normal" and how much is potentially included in "hearing voices". So say I might be saying in my head "I'm just feeling x, y, z" and then I might "hear" "yeah, because a, b, c", such as you might have when telling a friend what you're feeling. and sometimes these dialogues would confuse me, like, why am i having these "yeah, and" thoughts? it's just rephrasing what i JUST said, or put words on what was vaguely in my mind. But overall I thought they were just normal and maybe they are.

I've been thinking about all these, but particularly the first two. Initially I was looking into menstrual psychosis, because psychosis is a "scary", stigmatised term and I wasn't sure if I had discounted it because of stigma (context: I maybe have PMDD but the timing is always on my period, never before. But menstrual psychosis, while timed correctly, doesn't seem to match my symptoms).

And I just kept thinking. There was something about being at therapy on Monday, and being openly plural and talking a little about my childhood, and having my pluralness accepted as fact, that made me kind of see it from outside and think that this isn't really super "normal", like, idk.

I guess, because my mum has depression, that me developing an intense anxiety issue and even OCD, is "normal". I realise for most people this is an Issue, but for me, while it's scary and awful and disabling, That's Just What Brains Do. I have at least four generations of mental health problems on that side, you know? I have just sort of absorbed the idea of being mentally ill without it shifting my mental perception of myself, because to me, it was as natural as being blue-eyed.

But now, I'm beginning to both clearly see that firstly, my anxiety and ocd was not a forgone conclusion and not an unfortunate genetic side effect but instead a response to how I was raised and how fucked up my childhood was, and see that what I'm experiencing now is something that someone outside of me might call insane (no stigma necessarily intended; we're a madpunk household).

Like, I was, while living with my parents, actively experiencing symptoms that are socially a shorthand for "insane". I still am now but the point is that that was so invisible I didn't even recognise it for the potentially worrying symptom it was. And maybe in a clinical sense what I'm talking about Isn't really hearing voices. I don't really know. But the point is I'm finally seeing myself as actively, actually, mentally ill, due to largely avoidable incidents and patterns of behaviour from my caregivers, and that those patterns of behaviour have, and i'm using this language for emphasis, actually driven me insane.

[dededaio]

alright, so, to go along with my battle system concept for a kirby rpg, i also started thinking the story. it was pretty much inevitable. so what do you think i cooked up?

i think it's inevitable that first kirby rpg should tackle the mirror world. it's going to be either a completely original story (pretty plausible move) or something that has roots in concepts from the mainline series but also can stand on it's own without confusing new players.

the mirror world is perfect for this because while it has just enough substance and history to provide decent backstory for some stuff in an rpg, it's also underdeveloped and vague enough to work as pretty much original setting and source for new characters. it will please nerds like me and you who care about kirby canon, while also will be accessible to newcomers, since it's easy to "reintroduce" such in-depth concepts in more story-driven game without it feels obtrusive or pace-breaking.

at any rate, my idea for the story of the game basically lies in two distinct halves. one of the main appeals of the kirby narratives in mainline platformers is that they always have some sort of twist, and i don't want an rpg to be an exception to this.

game's initial conflict is centered around dream land and surrounding areas on the planet popstar being invaded by the inhabitants of the mirror world. the game begins at the celebration of the day of kirby's arrival in dream land. this is where kirby, while relaxed, can interact with a lot of future party members and important npcs. one of the visitors at the party is taranza, who brought some sort of gift to the occasion.

only it turns out that this is not actually taranza we know and love, but DARK taranza, an evil doppelganger of the spider we all know and love, who brought an elongated version of the corrupted dimensional mirror. it just so happens that all cast members and a lot of minor and major npcs happen to look in the mirror which turns out to be a huge mistake... they all get reflected and their shadow, dark counterparts emerge, with the only goal in mind: to replace them in the world that isn't corrupted the same way the mirror world is.

dark taranza and his cronies (which include the likes of dark meta knight, shadow dedede (shade) and dark bandana dee to name a few) seem to be the main antagonists of the game and they pretty much are for the first half of it. but as you liberate areas the shadow folk from the mirror takes over you slowly but surely learn that truth, that they are being manipulated. a lot of shadow people aren't actually as bad as the first impression might've suggested, they are deeply flawed and broken people, but they do still have some compassion and goodness deep down inside of a lot of them.

truth comes out, shadow and dark versions of the characters aren't inherently "evil", they simply reflect their worst qualities. but just as the main versions could grow past them into better versions of themselves, so are shadow versions. after the fight with dark taranza, we learn an awful truth, he's been manipulated by greater evil.

the corruption in the mirror materialized in the being far worse than even dark mind from kirby and the amazing mirror was, turning into the lord of judgement, person who embodies all sins of people who ever looked into the mirror. he set his sights on taking over the world beyond what being trapped within broken magical mirror could offer, so he used vulnerable shadow folk as his pawns. however, it's too late, everything is played right into his hands, a lot of people on popstar looked into the mirror, feeding him their worst qualities and sins, making him stronger, he gets out of the mirror and slowly but surely starts taking over the planet, corrupting it bit by bit.

the only way to reverse it is to go into the mirror world proper and destroy his core, this way, the mirror's corruption and the lord himself might go away forever. there is however is also danger of the shadow folk disappearing too, as they are also by-product of the mirror's corruption.

basically, yeah. something like that. basic crux of the plot not mentioning all character arcs of the main party, side-quests and other details. this is just to get the gist across.

[my-castles-crumbling]

hiya cas! i hope youre well 😊

so, i have some medical issues (nothing serious!! probably - im still waiting for a proper diagnosis but ive had a few appointments and tests etc and have been assured its nothing to be concerned about) and so i obviously have to go to hospital appointments sometimes for the aforementioned tests and discussions. it was scary at first (i hadnt been in a hospital since the day i was born up until this point, and i was 18 when i had my first of these appointments) but its easier now, but im still a little stressed

im not technically estranged from my family - i still live at home with both parents, and we're on decent enough terms - but we dont really have any sort of important conversations. or any personal conversations either. so i guess we're just not really close? idk. anyway, this has meant i have absolutely no idea what any of my family medical history is. i had to find out through my older sister that my father was diagnosed with diabetes four years ago (and she only found out because she worked at the pharmacy where he got his stuff from), and my eldest brother was the one who told me my grandparents' causes of death (they died before my birth and my parents never mention them), but they dont know any more than that either

this hasnt been an issue for me before, because obviously ive never needed to know. ive never been asked about it, but now that my own health isnt right, i kinda need to know. in my first appointment i got asked about it, but i told the doctor i didnt know and would ask at home

i did ask, to be fair. i spoke to my mother and explained why i needed to know but she just kind of... brushed it off? idk if thats the right way to phrase it. she said there was some vague thing about heart issues but she didnt say anything specifically, or which side of the family it came from, or anything all thay helpful at all

its so frustrating because im not the first of their kids to need this information. my sister has medical problems too (different issues than mine though) and our parents were no help with her either

i spoke to a friend about it last autumn when i first went to hospital and he looked at me so oddly, it made me feel so broken, i guess. apparently discussing medical history isnt a taboo subject in most households, because he knew all of his and he's never been to hospital for anything. but the way he looked at me like i was weird or something for not knowing was awful. again, it made me feel genuinely broken and damaged. it was kind of one of those moments where you realise 'oh, my family isnt normal' and it sucked, because i thought id had that realisation years ago

its happened with some other stuff too (i.e. telling parents about a relationship, friends, interests, spending time with family etc) and it just... it really sucks. i dont know what else there is to say than that ig lol

i was going somewhere with this ask, but ive kinda gotten off track and now i cant remember, soooo.... have a good day! thanks for reading my ramble 🥰

Hi hon!

I’m so sorry, whose moments of realization suck, truly. Please know that you did nothing wrong <3 

Because this is a health thing, I do have some advice for you (ignore me if you want!) There are forms on the internet that have questions about family history. Print one out and just give it to your mom and dad. Don’t give them room to question it. Say your doctor needs it, and you need them to fill it out.

I wonder, though, if your parents don’t share their history with you, they might not know their parents history. A lot of times, these kinds of things that happen in families are passed down. 

But yeah. Just give them a form and make it a health thing. You deserve that info. 

Again, please know that you are NOT broken, and it has nothing to do with you <3

(naming you medical anon)

[thetiredstuff]

was gonna make a post about how i was disappointed in misha for not speaking out more clearly about the isr*el-hamas and palestine situation given how he speaks up about so many international situations but i'm also a big believer in not always being reachable/on your phone/social media for your mental wealth etc and i try to keep up with it all but i've had some busy things happening and it's been a lot and i basically have no social life so i don't know how people do it who do. but when celebs speak out i'm an even bigger believer in them knowing what they're talking about because of the platform that they have but that requires reading up on the situations these celebs comment on and some of the situations celebs comment on have a decade(s) old history that isn't very easily summarized on wikipedia. so all of that is to say that i was still disappointed with misha's "silence" on what is happenign compared to how vocal he has been on other issues in the past. but i also know how omnipresent the isr*eli propaganda is in the west and especially the us and how retaliation in the form of blacklisting, unemployment, termination has been happening to people in all sorts of jobs who dare to utter a "palestinians devserve to live" stance.

but he just posted something so gonna comment on it. i don't agree with everything he's saying, but i'm surprised he spoke about it with such a clear text and i'm glad to see he's open to hearing other ideas and above all i'm "glad" to see he's on the artists for cease-fire list going around. it's awful that thats even a thing you have to be glad for but given that the vast majority of celebs have no problem supporting the mass murder of a people ...

also misha very clearly makes a distinction between h*mas and the palestinian people which is very interesting to me, given that this is a distinction many pro-palestinian people do not make. words matter people. i see a lot of people in the comments on his text completely interchanging h*mas and palestinians as in h*mas was justified in doing what it did cuz the palestinians have suffered for decades under isr*eli regime. h*mas for all intents and purposes is a terrorist organization that terorizes its own palestinian people, causing palestinians fearing for their lives to have to flee palestine and leave their families behind and even then they're not safe. do not celebrate that group and its acts. regardless of isr*els despicable atrocities, the abduction and murder of people is never okay no matter who does it.

did see a screenshot of a tweet (but can't seem to find the tweet) where he said he thinks genocide is the wrong term here and i've seen a lot of people be very disappointed in him for saying that. i get that unfortunately that is because the internationally recognized deifnition of genocide is just very "vague". like it's clearly defined but with its definition it is very very difficult to prove that a state or actor actually committed or is committing the intent of genocide. i'm guessing that is why it took until a couple of days ago for the first law suits to be filed with the ICC alleging a genocide is occuring eventhough the war has been happening for a month now. it reminds me of how the atrocities and the horrible treatment of jewish people was not recognized for years after wwii. it took several years for experts and the wider public to realize that there was a targeted campaign happening against a group of people in the hopes of murdering them. while it was happening, people did not realize this. it's why the accusation of genocide is one hardly used by experts and lawmakers, instead they'll opt for one of the crimes that falls within what is a pillar of genocide like ethnic cleansing

[rainbowsalt0412]

A Day At The Detective Agency

"Kunikida, how did the Armed Detective Agency get started anyway?"

Sitting at a café, Junichiro Tanizaki curiously tilted his head. The tall man sitting on the other side of the table furrowed his already wrinkled brows, then replied with the utmost seriousness, "You don't even know that?"

"No, I don't... Sorry."

It was night. Two men sat facing each other at a narrow-seated table at the back of a café. Resting on the table between them were sesame dango and houjicha—roasted green tea—for two. Both men were stern-faced. A stranger would instinctively do a double take at the curious scene, but these two were agents at the Armed Detective Agency in the middle of a late- night meeting. This vaguely old-fashioned teahouse was Café Uzumaki, located on the first floor of the same building the Armed Detective Agency worked out of.

"I work here, and I still don't even know how it got started. Do you, Kunikida?"

"Of course I do." Doppo Kunikida nodded, seated across from Tanizaki. 

"I knew you would," Tanizaki said with a smile.

"Only a faint idea, though." 

"A faint idea?"

"Yeah, I heard it all secondhand, though. The agency was established roughly a decade ago, by the president. Word is, something happened around then, and then the agency was born."

Tanizaki nodded.

"I see. You, uh... You really do only have a faint idea, huh?"

"Well, I wasn't lying, was I? I don't know any more details than that. I never got another chance to ask about it. Why don't you ask the president yourself?"

Tanizaki grew slightly flustered.

"M-me? No way. I'm still a nobody at the agency."

"Rank is irrelevant. The president isn't the kind of person who would keep secrets like this."

"But, like, I'd be way too nervous... Have you seen the president's eyes when he's angry? He could burn a hole through an iron plate. He'd probably even make a little girl cry."

"That's right." Kunikida nodded in agreement. "The president is a master of martial arts of all styles. Ever since he founded the detective agency, he's managed to uproot all sorts of evils and uncover numerous conspiracies. He's head and shoulders above the rest. A single glare from that man could bring blood spewing out of the eyes of several little girls, instantly killing them. Instantly," Kunikida repeated once more for emphasis.

"That sounds like a curse," said Tanizaki.

"And that's why he's the president. So why did you want to know how the agency was founded? No, I mean—I completely understand why you would be curious about your employer, but why now?"

"Well, about that...," Tanizaki began as he took a sip of tea, but it was apparently still too hot. "Yow!" he exclaimed, sticking out his tongue, then continued. "Because Dazai asked me."

"Dazai?" Kunikida's expression immediately tensed. 

"Yeah, so I—"

"Hold on. Wait. Give me a moment to calm down a little." Kunikida raised his hand to signal to Tanizaki to pause. "Lately, I've been getting horrible stress-induced stomach pains whenever I hear his name. Just sensing he's nearby brings flashes of black and white over my field of vision. It's a natural warning signal, so just give me a few seconds to relax." 

"Th-that sounds awful... I know how you feel, though..." Tanizaki's expression was pure pity.

"I'm the only one in the agency who can keep that worthless vagabond Dazai in check. Well, nobody can truly control him, but...the president has asked me to manage and supervise him. In other words, the president trusts me, so I cannot abandon my role to—"

Kunikida suddenly stopped midsentence. He gazed up at the ceiling, then rubbed his eyes. "Hmm...?" he asked. "Suddenly, the lighting seems off, like it's flickering..."

Tanizaki curiously looked up at the lights, but there was nothing abnormal in the slightest.

"Ahhh!" Kunikida's chair rattled noisily.

A tall young man with messy black hair stood near the entrance. Draped in a khaki coat, he leaned his lanky figure against the café entrance while dangling a paper bag in his right hand.

It was Osamu Dazai—a member of the Armed Detective Agency just like the other two.

"Ah, I never get tired of hearing Kunikida's lovely screaming. I could practically see his life span shortening with my own two eyes. Oh, I'll have my usual black tea, ma'am."

The middle-aged café owner poked her head out from the back. "Oh, Dazai! Handsome as ever, I see!" she called out to him.

"Right back at you, ma'am!" Dazai returned the compliment with a wave, then took a seat right next to Kunikida. The already cramped table became even more so.

"Dazai... What are you doing here?" asked Kunikida in a growl, like a wounded beast threatening its natural enemy.

"Huh? I came so I could shave a few years off your life, of cour—"

Kunikida wrapped his hands around Dazai's neck and violently shook him before he could even finish his sentence.

"How much do I have to suffer by your hand before it's enough?! When...will...it...stop...?!"

"Wa-ha-ha-ha!" Dazai cackled, still being shaken.

"C-come on, let's calm down, you two. We're in public."

Tanizaki's eyes darted around the shop restlessly. However, this café was on the first floor of the same building the detective agency was in. Dazai's eccentric behavior and Kunikida's yelling were nothing new to the owner or even the other customers. Everyone warmly watched them from their seats as if they were observing a schoolyard tussle between two brothers.

As the patrons' affectionate gazes fell on him as well, Tanizaki forced a half-hearted laugh. He had no other choice. Kunikida continued to shake Dazai, while Dazai continued to enjoy the punishment.

"You're too laid-back! How dare you show your face again this late at night! Where were you at work today?! Out annoying someone just like you always do, no doubt! Who do you think cleans up after you and apologizes for your mess?!"

"Oh, that's clearly y—"

"There is no way in hellI'm going to let you finish that sentence!"

Kunikida twisted Dazai's neck, letting out a slight pop. Pure bliss was the only way to describe the look on Dazai's face.

"Um, anyway..." Tanizaki spoke up. "I was telling Kunikida what we talked about earlier. You know, when you asked me why the Armed Detective Agency exists."

"What?" Kunikida cast Dazai a dubious gaze.

"Yep." Dazai's twisted neck cracked and popped as he adjusted it. "I just met with Tanizaki around noon today."

"Where?"

"At a bar."

As the seconds crawled by, Kunikida's expression gradually started to look like a patient with neurotoxins slowly poisoning his body.

"I figured you were out drinking somewhere when you skipped work today, so that's fine. I'll save my anger for later. However, Tanizaki, what were you doing there? Don't tell me you were playing hooky as well? Surely an eighteen-year-old wouldn't be skipping work to day drink. Various studies and statistics have demonstrated the negative effects of underaged drinking, and there is clear proof that alcohol affects the secretion of testosterone. But regardless of the studies, if you start drinking now, your brain is going to turn into mush like his!" Kunikida firmly pointed to Dazai by his side.

"You may call me Mushy Brains." Dazai quickly lowered his head and bowed.

"N-no, you've got the wrong idea!" Tanizaki waved his hands in a fluster. "I was there for work. I was told to go to the bar, and when I went, I ran into Dazai, and—"

"Yep. Nice seeing you there!"

"What...? So you went there for work? To a bar where Dazai just happened to be? ...I find it hard to believe that this was a coincidence... which means Dazai asked you to meet him there. Did he ask you to pay his tab? Or did he cause a scene and need you to...?"

Kunikida stopped himself. His face turned pale before he bent forward at the waist.

"D-don't tell me... It was the opposite? Did more trouble find him again? Is that it?"

"I'm sorry, Kunikida." Tanizaki lowered his gaze apologetically.

"Sheesh, it wasn't a big deal. Certainly nothing worth glowering over like that." Dazai gleefully smirked. "All I did was drink and make merry with the folks at the bar, have a chat, listen to their stories, and go home. I promise... Oh, and there was a bomb somewhere in there."

"..."

Kunikida's upper body slowly rocked back and forth as he sat in silence. "...Kunikida?" Worried, Tanizaki called out his colleague's name.

"I...passed out for a second there," Kunikida uttered feebly while lifting up his head. "A bomb...? Tanizaki, why didn't you say something at the start of our meeting? Who planted the bomb? Have the city police done anything about it? Did the military police's bomb squad take care of it? What happened to the bomb?"

"It's right here." Dazai dropped a paper bag on the table with a thud. "Aggghhh!" Startled, Kunikida jumped back—chair and all.

"Don't worry. Despite its realistic appearance, it's a fake." Dazai shrugged. "I'll make this short. The bomb was delivered yesterday to my usual haunt, addressed to me from an anonymous sender. I opened the package and found this inside. Right when I unwrapped it, the fuse came off. Even the slightest movement might have caused it to explode, so the city police and the detective agency were duly contacted."

"And that's why I was sent over there," said Tanizaki.

"I swear, every single time... How do you manage to constantly get yourself involved in these messes?"

Kunikida's face was twisted in anguish as if he had just eaten a poisonous mushroom.

"Aw, c'mon, it's just a fake." At that moment, the tea Dazai ordered was brought to the table. Grinning, Dazai dropped a few sugar cubes in his teacup before taking a sip. Then he said, "This bomb ended up being a timer without any explosive components inside. Nothing more than a replica. Someone was just messing with me. Anyway, I already spoke with the perpetrator, so everything's okay now."

"Were they arrested?"

"Yep. I found a scrap of paper when I opened the bomb that said, 'Keep your eyes on me and me alone.' Turns out it was one woman's unique yet extreme way of telling me she was obsessed with me. I had a few ideas as to who it could be, so I contacted them one by one until I found the criminal. After a good scolding, I convinced her it just wasn't going to work out between the two of us. Besides, I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself at the pub if she kept sending me bombs every day."

Kunikida, in that moment the picture of exhaustion itself, stared at Dazai.

"...I see."

His response was brief, but the look on his face essentially said, "I can't even begin to fathom why someone like him is so popular with women."

"And then one of the cops who showed up said to me, 'It's thanks to the Armed Detective Agency's efforts to keep the city safe that we can do our jobs properly.' Or something like that. I mean, how weird is that?"

"Oh?" Kunikida cocked an eyebrow. "Well, isn't that nice... Not that you'd be in any position to complain if the cop drop-kicked you for getting bomb threats thanks to your half-assed flirting with every girl you see! You're a menace to women everywhere!" Kunikida yelled while sternly kicking Dazai's chair.

 "It certainly is a good thing, though," claimed Tanizaki with a strained smile. "I was equal parts grateful and suspicious. I mean, it's the police's job to protect the city so that the citizens can work in peace, isn't it? That got me wondering why the president started a business that even the police appreciate."

"And that's what we talked about at the pub today," added Dazai with a smile.

"I see." Kunikida crossed his arms. "Danger does come with the job. Starting an agency isn't something you can do on a whim. But as you know, the president is a man of humanity and justice. Search the entire country, and you still won't find someone as fit for the job as he is. Personally, I believe the agency's founding was divine providence."

Kunikida took a sip of his tea, then scowled at Dazai out of the corner of his eye.

"Speaking of the detective agency," Kunikida continued with an acidic note in his tone, "I just remembered something—Dazai, what happened with that kid?"

"What kid?"

"The homeless one you took in yesterday," Kunikida replied as he placed his cup on the table. "You mentioned you wanted to employ him at the agency. Were you being serious? Because that's not something any sane person would do. Not only is he a total stranger, the boy's also a dangerous skill user and designated beastly threat within the local ward. And you want the agency to hire him?"

"Heh-heh-heh. I'm more than serious about it. In fact, that's why I came here today. Ah, I can't wait."

"Oh, I heard about that," said Tanizaki, leaning forward in his chair. "This is the case where you had to catch a man-eating tiger that ended up actually being a street urchin boy with the ability to transform into a tiger, right? I can't believe you guys were able both to solve such a bizarre case in under a day and take a skill user into custody without issue. You aren't known as the best duo in the agency for nothing."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me." 

"We're not a 'duo.'"

Dazai and Kunikida spoke at the exact same time.

However, the fact of the matter was that they were the most talented duo in the agency when it came to solving tough cases, and they had boasted a record of solving the most difficult cases ever since Dazai joined the company two years ago. Outsiders who didn't know their personalities or how much they didn't get along often thought they were the perfect pair. Ignorance is bliss.

"At any rate...," Kunikida said while glaring at Dazai. "I'm against the idea, but if you're serious about this, then you need to go talk it over with the president. If he agrees, then I won't say another word about the matter."

"Already done," Dazai replied, beaming. "He told me to come up with an entrance exam."

"Seriously? So you're saying he gave you permission?" asked Tanizaki. "Yep. Just one thing, though..." Dazai placed his thumb to his lips as if deep in thought. "I still haven't thought of what I'm gonna get Atsushi to do for his entrance exam. Such a serious matter shouldn't be left to me to decide alone. Right, partner?"

Dazai sent Kunikida a sly smirk after he finished.

"Of course." Kunikida crossed his arms grumpily. "The entrance exam is an important rite of passage, a test of one's compatibility with the agency and the authenticity of their very soul. Furthermore, this newcomer is a designated threat to the local ward. One wrong move, and the agency itself could fall under suspicion for illegally harboring a dangerous beast. I can't argue with you if the president has given you permission, but we must be more thorough than usual with this exam. No way I'm letting you pull some idea out of your ass to test him."

"Then it's settled." Dazai tossed back the rest of his tea with mirth before standing. "Let's go. I've already called everyone to the agency's conference room."

"...For what?" Kunikida asked flatly.

"To get started on what you just said." Dazai stuck out his index finger to get everyone's attention and smirked. "Boss's orders. We need everyone's wisdom in order to determine what this newcomer—our new rising star—can do for the agency."

Dazai took in a deep breath, then declared:

"Let the first entrance exam trial meeting begin!"

The Armed Detective Agency was a private organization made up of skill users. There were the investigators who solved client cases, and office staff in charge of gathering intel, handling client relations, and seeing to accounting matters. Although the agency didn't have a set number of employees, the usual staff totaled a dozen or so, including the president.

Almost all the investigators had some sort of skill.

Skill User: Junichiro Tanizaki, Skill: Light Snow

Skill User: Doppo Kunikida, Skill: The Matchless Poet

Skill User: Osamu Dazai, Skill: No Longer Human

Others had their own unique skills as well, which they used for their work. The Armed Detective Agency was a band of skill users who oversaw the twilight between the worlds of day—where the governmental authority of the police reigned—and night, ruled by the dark underbelly of society.

The agency was founded over a decade ago by the president after a chance encounter with a certain skill user. But that is a story for a later time.

This is the tale of the Armed Detective Agency's newest employee and the entrance exam that determined his suitability for the job.

Atsushi Nakajima—the night before his hiring.

***

The Armed Detective Agency's office was located on the fourth floor of a reddish-brown brick building. Inside were an office floor, a reception area, a conference room, the president's office, an infirmary, an operating room, and a kitchenette. A spiral staircase for emergency use stood in the back, but everyone usually took the single, old-fashioned elevator.

The three agents got on the elevator and headed to the detective agency. It was nighttime; most employees were already making their way home, and only a few still remained in the office sitting under the bright, white fluorescent lights. One was writing a letter, another was reading a novel, and the last one was eating noodles. They seemed to have stayed by choice, rather than because of remaining work.

The seaside was visible from the office windows, and a merchant ship's steam whistle could be heard blowing a few times in the distance. Kunikida, Dazai, and Tanizaki casually waved and greeted the staff before heading into the conference room at the end of the office.

The room was already occupied.

"Oh my. Just look at what the cat dragged in. If it's an autopsy you're looking for, I'm afraid I've closed up for the day."

With her slender legs crossed as she sat, Miss Yosano lifted her head up from reading the newspaper in her hands.

Skill User: Akiko Yosano, Skill: Thou Shall Not Die

Yosano was the agency's personal physician and a healing skill user, which was rare even on a global scale. She single-handedly took care of all medical treatment in the detective agency, and there was never a shortage of fresh wounds. An immensely capable physician who loved nothing more than performing surgeries and autopsies, Yosano would oftentimes try to operate on patients with even the smallest cuts or scrapes, thus making her far more frightening to her colleagues than any enemy. To make matters worse, her primary surgical tool was a hatchet.

"Dr. Yosano." Tanizaki, the first to enter, blinked in surprise. "What are you doing in the conference room?"

"What does it look like? I'm reading the paper," Yosano responded while flapping the paper in her hands. "I was really busy today, so I didn't get a chance to check the news," she added while she continued to read one particular column. "Another great article today, I might add."

"I never took you for the type who likes to read the paper...," Tanizaki said while taking a peek at the periodical. "So what's this 'great article' you're reading?"

"The best section in the newspaper: the obituary notices," she said with a cheerful smirk. "Death is the fairest judge of all."

"You can say that again," Dazai added, all smiles as he appeared in the doorway.

After the brief exchange, Tanizaki, Kunikida, and Dazai walked into the room and took a seat in that order. The hands on the wall clock made a resounding tick, tick.

"So what are you all doing here?" asked Yosano after taking her nose out of the paper.

"Heh-heh... We're having a meeting to decide on the next entrance exam," Dazai brightly replied. "Remember that tiger-boy from yesterday? Well, turns out we're going to come up with his exam democratically. I want to hear everyone's opinion."

"Democratically, huh?" Yosano raised an eyebrow. "How about we do the same thing we did for Tanizaki? How's that?"

Yosano glanced in Tanizaki's direction, and he instantly turned pale, shaking his head.

"I—I don't ever...want to be reminded of that again."

When Tanizaki was new, he had to pass what could be called a very harsh entrance exam. However, it was so harsh that all of Tanizaki's memories of that day ended up buried deep in his subconscious. Remembering what happened would only bring underlying trauma up to the surface.

"Anyway, this isn't about me." Tanizaki leaned forward. "Let's keep this exam tame."

"Ooh, check out this article," Yosano interrupted while reading the paper. "'MANY DEAD OR INJURED AFTER ILLICIT SHANGHAI HAIRY CRAB SUPPLIER GOES UP IN FLAMES.' I bet that smelled wonderful. Maybe I'll walk by the place on the way home." She licked her lips.

"D-don't you think that's just a little much...?" Tanizaki looked disturbed. "Besides, Yosano, that paper's from two months ago. It's old. You wouldn't be able to enjoy the rich fragrance of freshly cooked crab even if you went."

"Oh, hey... You're right." Yosano checked the newspaper's date and frowned. "Who's the wise guy who left this old paper lying on the table? Tch. And here I was excited for my chance to cut up some bodies from the fire—living or dead—under the pretense of helping a legal autopsy."

Yosano tossed the newspaper aside in disappointment.

"Yeah, I don't know how I feel about mutilating living people with a hatchet..."

Tanizaki, who frequently found himself under the knife, expressed the kind of sympathy only a firsthand victim could.

"Grilled crab is the greatest treasure of this world," Dazai commented, completely missing the point.

"Dazai." Kunikida finally spoke in a low tone. "Forget about the crabs. What happened to the meeting? I thought you said you called everyone to the conference room, yet Dr. Yosano seems to be the only one here."

"Hmm..." Dazai peered up at the clock while tilting his head. "I did contact everyone, but the agents here are all so laid-back, y'know? It'll probably take them a little longer to arrive."

Crossing his arms, Kunikida stared at Dazai. "Yes, you're one to talk, Dazai. You're basically the king of Laid-Back Land." Kunikida pouted his lips. "You said this was a meeting, but do you have any specific ideas on how you're going to proceed?"

"Yeah, yeah, I already came up with a plan. Not even the Prime Minister of Meeting Procedure Land, Kunikida, will complain."

Dazai then got out of his seat and began to write on the whiteboard in the corner of the room.

"Step one: exchange ideas.

"Step two: pick the most suitable proposal given. 

"Step three: assign appropriate roles.

"...So? Rather systematic, wouldn't you agree?" Dazai claimed while tapping the whiteboard.

"It is systematic...which is actually why I've got a bad feeling about this." Kunikida frowned. "That part about roles especially worries me. This is you we're talking about, after all. I'll bet you devised some sort of scheme to get out of any work at all. Am I wrong?"

"I'm offended. I would never be so deceptive. Surely my colleague Kunikida trusts me, right?" Dazai spread his arms wide, claiming innocence.

"Nope," replied Kunikida.

"Sorry, I don't believe you, either...," added Tanizaki. "Never believed anyone less," said Yosano.

Dazai leaped out of his chair in an amused manner. "So cruel!"

"We'll be keeping our eyes on you. At any rate, let's not worry about step three for now. We need to start exchanging ideas," said Kunikida as he checked the clock once more. The only two agents missing were Ranpo and Kenji. The final decision would need the majority vote, meaning their presence would be essential, but a meeting to exchange ideas with the current members was more than doable.

"That's the spirit!" Dazai said with a smile. "If Kunikida wants to start, then let the meeting begin. All right, then... Any proposals?"

Dazai took a seat, then looked at everyone in rotation one by one. Each of the room's occupants exchanged glances, hesitant to speak up. They could go toe to toe with the most violent skill users while humming a merry tune, but even these veteran detectives weren't good at everything, and reading the situation was one such difficulty for them. When each agent in a gathering possessed an outstanding skill and unusual personality, one would have a better chance of finding treasure in the unexplored corners of South America than trying to guess what the other was thinking. However, the silence was soon broken.

"Oh, wow! Look at Tanizaki! Look at how he's glowing! He's just dying to speak up!" Frustrated, Dazai threw Tanizaki to the wolves.

"Huh? M-me?" Tanizaki pointed at himself, puzzled.

"I can see it! The radiant idea is illuminating your body! Go ahead. Tell us about that ace up your sleeve! Tell us about your cherished proposal that will make us jump out of our seats and clap! Our hearts are ready!"

"Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is!" Tanizaki cried out in a fluster. "Anyway, I don't think it needs to be some convoluted test. Why don't we just look at the requests we've received from clients and pick out something reasonable from there? I believe I heard that's what they did with you, Dazai."

"Oh! Good idea! Thanks, Tanizaki." Dazai proceeded to write "handle a case" on the whiteboard in black. "Any objections?"

"You already know the answer to that, Dazai," Kunikida said. "That would work if this were any ordinary newcomer. However, the military police are under orders to put down the beast that's been terrorizing the district. In other words, he's wanted. The agency won't have any problem concealing his identity to an extent, but that doesn't mean we should toss him into the midst of chaos before he's even hired. Surely the president told you this already."

"They don't call you the president's top apprentice for nothing!" Dazai placed his hands on his cheeks. "The president essentially told me the same thing. Hmm... It was a very reasonable proposal, but we have to come up with a test that won't attract too much outside attention. Sorry, Tanizaki."

"Oh...," Tanizaki uttered with a note of disappointment. "Then...how about having him solve a problem within the agency?"

"Such as?"

"Hmm... Maybe like clearing a paper jam or cleaning the pipes?"

"This isn't a janitorial position." Kunikida furrowed his brow. "Besides, there aren't really any incidents at the agency that could 'test the veracity of one's soul.'"

"We'll come back to this one."

There upon, Dazai wrote 'Solve an in-house issue' on the whiteboard before adding a '?' at the end.

"Are we just going to sit here and criticize every single idea? We're getting absolutely nowhere," Yosano complained, resting her chin on her palm. She pointed at Dazai. "Dazai, you're the one who wanted to do this. Tell us your idea. Surely you've thought of something."

Dazai remained silent for a few seconds. "...Heh-heh."

He giggled as if he had been waiting for someone to say exactly that. Then he slowly took a bundle of paper out of a paper bag and placed it where everyone could see. The sheets were crammed with sentences, but it was difficult to tell whether they had been scribbled quickly or by garden- variety terrible penmanship.

"Of course, I came prepared! Feast your eyes on the numerous foolproof plans I've devised!"

Everyone looked at Dazai in awe—except for Kunikida, who had seen this coming and scowled.

"My first proposal is a test that focuses on physical abilities and stamina. First, we'll take the train thirty minutes to the Yokohama city zoo and sneak in after closing. Then we'll throw our candidate into the Asiatic black bear exhibit and leave him in there overnight. If he's either defeated the bears or escaped by the time we come back the next morning, we'll hire him."

"Dazai," Kunikida intoned deeply as he glared at Dazai.

"If he reconciles with the bears, then we keep him on standby." "Dazai."

"But we would be completely in the wrong from the bears' point of view, so we're moving on to my next idea. This proposal focuses on thinking ability and problem-solving. There's this old man in the Sixth District who's so stingy you have to wonder if he was a piggy bank in a past life. Word has it one time his change was off by five yen, and he lambasted the clerk for two hours straight. We'll have the newcomer come up with some reason to borrow a thousand yen from the old man."

"Dazai."

"And if he can keep playing dumb for a month without paying the man back, we'll hire him."

"It hurts just imagining that!" 

"After that—"

Dazai continued flipping through his stack of paper until Kunikida stopped him.

"Wait, wait, wait. Are all the ideas you came up with like that? The hell do you think the entrance exam is? Besides, there's no way you could avoid that old man for an entire month. The sheer stress would cause you to go bald."

"In that case, we'll have the newcomer borrow the money under your name," Dazai claimed while staring at Kunikida's crown.

"Don't you dare!" Kunikida yelled while covering his head. "...Ahem. What I meant to say is, this kid is a potential agency member! There has to be something more suited to that! The exam should test a candidate's sense of righteousness, his abilities, his knowledge, his morality!"

"Really? Okay, then how about this one. If he eats four pounds of sugar in under five minutes, then—"

"All your ideas are garbage! They're just becoming more absurd as you go on! What is this, a circus sideshow? Tch. Surely there's got to be someone out there with a better idea than—"

Just when Kunikida was about to tear his hair out... 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The door to the conference room flew open with a strange-sounding creak from its hinges.

"Sorry. I was plowing the field in front of my house and lost track of time. Check out the huge radishes I harvested today. You could kill a guy with one of these! Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone gets their share later!"

The lively, energetic voice belonged to a small-framed young man donning a straw hat and cotton overalls. The gloves stuffed in his pocket were soiled with fresh dirt, and to top it off, he was barefoot.

This was Kenji Miyazawa, the youngest agent at the detective agency.

"Hey, Kenji! We were waiting for you!" Dazai was all smiles as he welcomed his colleague. "You remember why I asked you here, right? Well, let me tell you, it's been one heated discussion! Come, Kenji, give us one or two of your brightest ideas!"

"I'll see what I can do!" the young detective replied cheerfully before entering. His bare feet tapped against the floor as he cut across the room to read the whiteboard. Then he turned around to face the others.

"The exam needs to test whether he's talented enough to join the agency, right?"

Kenji pondered for a few seconds before facing Dazai and raising his hand.

"Oh, I know!"

"Yes, Kenji?" Dazai pointed at Kenji, allowing him to speak. "Get him to arm wrestle me! If he wins, he's in!"

Everyone fell silent, their expressions dead serious. Even Dazai was left speechless.

It was an unattainable objective. Kenji's skill, Undefeated by the Rain, granted him superhuman strength and made his body essentially indestructible by physically knocking back whatever hit him. He could effortlessly throw a car if he wanted to. In fact, he once wrestled three seasoned sumo wrestlers and simultaneously threw them in the air. No one knows if they ever hit the ground. Everyone in the room imagined the newcomer trying to arm wrestle Kenji until his arm got torn off and left him screaming.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Tanizaki timidly spoke up, breaking the silence. His face stiff, he glanced around at the others.

But when he noticed the nearby Yosano mutter under her breath "...That could work" with a smirk, he immediately tried changing the subject.

"A-any other ideas?"

"Other ideas, huh?" Kenji repeated, unbothered. He paced back and forth a few times, deep in thought as his bare feet audibly tapped the floor. "I think most detective work boils down to putting in the effort one day at a time." Kenji struck his palm with a fist before continuing. "I'm fairly certain the president would agree that it's not about jumping immediately into action, going berserk on the enemy, and having a fairy-tale ending. So how about we have him plow the field next to my house little by little, and if that leads to a good harvest come autumn, then he can join the company. Sounds wonderful, if you ask me!"

Everyone's gazes fixated on Tanizaki in silence—"Say something!" they seemed to be urging him.

"Uh... Y-yeah..." Tanizaki reluctantly gave an ambiguous reply. "We were with you during the first half, but...I think waiting until autumn might be a little too long. Right, Kunikida?"

"A-agreed." Kunikida seemed startled when the hot potato was suddenly thrown to him.

"Oh... If you say so..." Kenji's innocent, childlike eyes showed a hint of disappointment. "Then how about one of the more common rites of passage we use back in the countryside where I'm from?"

"Oh? What kind of ritual is that?" Tanizaki raised his eyebrows.

Kenji was from an extremely remote village deep in the mountains of the Touhoku region just past a stream that cut through the forest. Up until the day he was scouted by the president and brought to the agency two months prior, Kenji lived a simple life surrounded by cows and fields, which was why he may seem uncivilized to some.

"Back home, we had a young men's association that would help out with general farm work. There were a few ways to become a member, but for example..." Kenji raised his index finger and continued, "...forecasting the weather."

"Huh... Sounds neat. I guess the weather is very important to farmers, after all. So basically, if you correctly predict the next day's weather without checking the forecast, you pass?"

"Not just the next day's weather. An entire month's weather." "...Pardon?"

"You predict the weather by checking the soil and the animals' behavior.

I can do it, too! Here: sunny, cloudy, sunny, sunny with showers in the morning and in the evening..."

After that, Kenji rambled on, forecasting the weather for an entire month. Unfortunately, though, everyone blanked out, and all that information went in one ear and out the other.

"Th-that's really impressive..." Tanizaki finally spoke up. "Anything else?"

"If you can hold a conversation with a cow, you pass. Or a dog."

"Your village sounds incredible, Kenji...," Tanizaki muttered in blank amazement.

"Also, anyone who can summon rain gets a free pass. The same goes for people who can grow a sapling into a tree in a day's time."

"That's a real top-notch group you've got back home!"

"If you build a community center in one night, you pass." 

"Who lives there, Hideyoshi Toyotomi?!"

"If you defeat a cursed spirit, you pass." 

"Those exist?!"

"Also..."

"H-hold on." Tanizaki stopped him, unable to take any more. "I think we're getting way off topic. Plus, I feel like if we listen to any more of this, we're going to completely forget about the meeting, so let's stop there for today."

"Oh... Well, if you say so." Kenji tilted his head to the side in a disheartened manner. Just then, Tanizaki turned around to find Dazai writing 'Hideyoshi Toyotomi' on the whiteboard.

***

The debate over the entrance exam had reached a fever pitch. Everything Dazai proposed, Kunikida shot down, while Yosano raised an objection to everything Kunikida suggested. And whenever Yosano brought something up, Tanizaki said, "Yeah, that's a bit much..."

Everyone put their heads together and passionately debated the topic in an effort to select the best rookie for the agency...or at least, that was what they should have done. In reality, this bunch was simply far too eccentric to put out a proposal that could be considered even halfway decent.

"A rookie needs guts," Yosano argued with a curl of her sensuous lips. "How about we do this: You all have pinkie fingers on your left hand, right?"

Everyone looked at their pinkies.

"We start from the left pinkie...and tear off one finger until we reach the pinkie on his right. If he can make it through all ten fingers, he's in."

"That's way too cruel!" Tanizaki shrieked. 

"All right, eight fingers, then."

"What kind of pointless compromise is that?!"

"Oh, come on. I can always just heal him with my skill," Yosano said with a pout. "If you're not gonna let me do that, then how about we file down his crotch and see how long before he cries? That could be the test."

All the men in the room grabbed their crotches and leaped out of their chairs at the thought of the unfathomable pain.

"We're not going to torture him!"

"Then how about he challenges me to a drinking contest? If he wins, he's hired."

"That's hazing!" Tanizaki shouted back.

"Hey, Kunikida, you've been awfully quiet," Dazai pointed out. "It's about time for the star of the show to make their appearance, don't you think? Please grace us with one of your stellar ideas."

"...You would pretend to help someone before pulling the ladder from under them. I know you well enough that no praise of yours could motivate me. If anything, it gives me anxiety," Kunikida said while glaring at Dazai. "Sigh. It doesn't matter. How about this? If he takes out Dazai, he's hired."

"Oh, wow," Tanizaki said in admiration while lightly clapping his hands together.

"...Anything else?" asked Dazai, peering at Kunikida from the corner of his eye.

"If he argues Dazai into silence and makes him reflect on all his misdeeds, then he's hired."

"Oh, wow! Good idea." Tanizaki enthusiastically nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yes, he could take Dazai...! And then, like, put him between two wooden boards or something, then slowly apply pressure on both sides and

blow hot steam on his face. He could stab him with countless tiny needles with the occasional electric shock in between and whisper into his ear, 'This is all your fault. This is all your fault.' And after that, he could...!"

In a heated frenzy, Kunikida gestured as if he were hitting something in the air before twisting and shaking it. His eyes were bloodshot. Tanizaki, as well as the others watching in the conference room, were slightly weirded out.

"Um... I... I'm sorry," Dazai mumbled feebly. However, Kunikida didn't seem to hear him.

"But you wouldn't actually reflect on your misdeeds, right, Dazai?" Tanizaki asked.

"Nope," came the usual reply. Just then, there was a knock at the conference room door.

"Pardon my intrusion." It was a girl's voice, clear as a bell. "You all must be absolutely exhausted from such a long meeting. One of our regulars brought us a gift, so how about taking a short break and helping yourself to one?"

A high school–age girl walked in, her long, shiny black tresses cascading down her back. She was wearing a school uniform and held a tray of food in her delicate hands.

"Naomi!" Tanizaki lifted his head in surprise. "I thought you already went home."

"I was waiting for you so we could go home together."

Naomi gently smiled. Underneath one of her eyes was a beauty mark that gave her an alluring appeal beyond her years. Naomi Tanizaki, Junichiro Tanizaki's younger sister, worked at the agency's office when she wasn't at school. With a practiced hand, she placed a cup of green tea and a meat bun on the conference desk for each person there. Steam rose from the buns along with a delicious aroma; they must have been fresh out of the oven. She walked by her brother and leaned in so closely that he could feel her breath.

"My dearest brother," she said, a touch of heat in her long exhale, "you're looking ever so handsome, as usual."

Naomi stroked the back of his neck with her fingertips. Everyone in the room pretended not to notice. Apparently, these two were blood-related siblings; Tanizaki had admitted as much before, and Naomi had made it no secret, either. Nevertheless, they looked nothing alike. Compared with Tanizaki, who had timid yet honest eyes and a smile always lacking self- confidence, Naomi had a certain sexiness that defied her young age. She had voluptuous lips and lashes so long you might expect to hear them when she blinked. Her eyes were large, like bottomless pits that would absorb any young man naive enough to peer into them, trapping them in a world of fantasy as all the blood rushed to a certain part of his body.

To make matters worse, she always tried to have some sort of physical contact with her brother, regardless of location or who was around. She would touch his ear during conversation, rub his thigh during work, and blow into his ear whenever he wasn't paying attention. Tanizaki would start acting self-conscious every time, and his eyes would wander, but Naomi even seemed to enjoy her brother's reactions.

"Oh, Big Brother, you have a piece of lint on your chest. Let me get that for you."

Naomi softly traced Tanizaki's collarbone with her fingernail. Of course, there wasn't a speck of lint on his body. Tanizaki turned red and blinked uncomfortably. Everyone awkwardly looked away.

"Are you two actually related, though? How can two siblings live alone together and act like this?"

That was the question not a single person in the agency was brave enough to ask. Everyone firmly believed something was up, but they could never pry for fear that their hunch was right.

"Hey, Big Brother... I brought what you asked. It's in my bag. Tonight, we could use it to—"

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Thanks."

And that was exactly why no one could ask them what they were talking about, despite wondering about the meaning behind Naomi's suggestive whispers and the fact that Tanizaki was looking at everything but her.

"These meat buns are amazing!"

Kenji, who was seated at the foot of the table, was the only one munching happily away at the meat buns Naomi brought. Appetite outweighed sex appeal as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, Naomi, how about helping us out a little while you're here?" Dazai suggested brightly. "We're brainstorming ideas for the rookie's entrance exam."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" She placed the tray under her arm, then beamed rapturously. "Although I wonder if I could even come up with anything useful..."

"We're still in the early stages. Spitballing. Anything will do," Dazai assured her. "It can be something you're good at or familiar with, if you want."

"...!"

Kunikida shot Dazai a look pleading with him to shut up. "Hmm... Let me think..."

Naomi tilted her head to the side while she pondered. A few moments went by before she blushed and offered three proposals.

Unfortunately, none of what she said could be written here.

***

The room was silent as everyone ate their meat buns. At this rate, the trial meeting was never going to end. Everyone started to come to the faint realization that conferences and debates just weren't their strong suits. They needed to find some common ground.

Written in black on the conference room whiteboard were eight ideas: 

'Handle a case,'

'Solve an in-house issue,'

'Hideyoshi Toyotomi,' 

'Tear off eight fingers,'

'Hazing,'

'Crush Dazai,'

'****ing,'  and

'These meat buns are delicious.'

Tanizaki's internal battery was starting to die. While somewhat obvious that this would prove to be a tricky meeting, no one was expecting that agreeing on a single idea would be such a great challenge, nor did they anticipate the process of finding common ground to be so mundane. Building a sandcastle would have been a more constructive use of their time.

Tanizaki and Kunikida exchanged looks. They predicted this would happen. Their meeting earlier at the café was actually to plan for a situation like this. A meeting-response meeting. They considered what to do when meetings like this were going nowhere, and they specifically made sure to keep it a secret from Dazai. Kunikida seized this opportunity to speak up just as he'd planned earlier at the café.

"Dazai, how about narrowing down our choices? We have been stuck on step one for too long already. If we don't decide on something now, we'll be here all night. I'm not saying we have to choose one of the ideas on the board, but at least give us some basic direction."

"Huh? But arguing over such trifles together is fun. Let's keep this going all night!"

"Whether you're enjoying yourself or not is beside the point. We came here today for a reason," Kunikida said, sternly furrowing his brow. "Plus, we've got minors here, too. Hurry it up. All that's left for us to do is decide on an idea and delegate roles, right?"

"But we're still missing someone." Dazai scratched his head. "Ranpo's not here, and we need everyone present before we can decide on the test. I wonder what he's doing this late at night? Maybe he's working on a tough case, and it's taking longer than he thought..."

"Oh!" Naomi placed a hand on her cheek. "Actually, Ranpo's in the office right now."

"Huh?"

"I saw him when I was walking by a few moments ago. He was wrapped up in one of those puzzles that comes with the candy boxes."

"That's Ranpo for ya. Nothing fazes him." Dazai proceeded to compliment Ranpo for whatever reason.

Ranpo Edogawa, twenty-six years old, was the Armed Detective Agency's top detective and the brains of the operation. He possessed outstanding powers of observation and deduction for someone so ingenuous and simple in nature. Even then, he was impossible to figure out, and he yielded to no one. Ranpo was only willing to go out on a case so long as he alone solved it. Although he didn't mean any harm, he would tell anyone they were stupid even if it was their first time meeting, and he never hesitated to give someone a pat on the head—victim, perpetrator, you name it. And there wasn't a single case he couldn't solve. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was the center pillar of the agency.

"I'll go get him," Naomi said before trotting out of the conference room. After watching her leave, Dazai said, "Everything should be okay now. There is nothing he can't solve."

"I agree, but is this really something worth bothering him over?"

Kunikida asked reluctantly. "His brain should only be used for solving cases. There are plenty of difficult cases he could be cracking instead of spending his time on something as trivial as this."

There wasn't a single soul in the neighborhood who didn't know Ranpo's skill. Even the big shots from government organizations like the city police would beg him for help.

Skill User: Ranpo Edogawa Skill: Super Deduction

While most skills were supernatural events that bent the laws of physics, Ranpo's stood out as extraordinary even among the best detectives—the ability to see the truth.

No matter the case or event, he could see the truth after nothing more than a single glance. His skill almost seemed like cheating, even. The existence of such an ability would render any and all investigative organizations utterly meaningless. And yet, Ranpo possessed such a skill and used it to solve mysteries. The truth never escaped his discerning eye.

And that was precisely why no one could oppose him, which consequently made Ranpo even more arrogant. It allowed him to solve cases however he liked, even if that meant dragging other relevant parties down with it. After he departed the scene of a crime, he always left everyone involved mentally exhausted, despite having solved the case. No one could control the infallible genius...except for the president, whom Ranpo still earnestly listened to for some reason. He would get depressed if the boss got mad at him, and it brought him so much joy when he was praised. Nobody knew exactly why he was so obedient, but according to the other agents, "Well, you know how the president is. Guess it's no real surprise."

Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Ranpo walked up to the conference room door with force in his step.

"Hey, folks! I see everyone's racking their brain over another pointless meeting," Ranpo quipped with a grin. "Sigh. What would you guys do without me?"

"We've been waiting for you, Ranpo," said Dazai, smiling back. "We're having a meeting about the entrance exam I mentioned to you earlier. Got any ideas?"

"I hate using my head for boring stuff," Ranpo complained. "And anyway, I honestly couldn't care less if this newcomer's got what it takes. There are two kinds of people in the world: those who cry tears of joy when I solve a case, and those who cry out of frustration!"

"You raise a fine point." Dazai nodded in agreement.

"But of course, my skill always leads me to the truth, be it a murder or even something as trivial as this. Besides, I'll be away on a business trip tomorrow, so I won't be able to take part in the test anyway. There was a string of killings in the Hokuriku region that I've been dying to investigate. But as a parting gift, I suppose I wouldn't be against using my Super Deduction to predict the course of this meeting, if you wanted."

Ranpo produced a pair of black-framed glasses from his pocket—old spectacles that triggered his skill, Super Deduction, whenever he put them on. Not a soul knew where he got them, but according to Ranpo, they had a long and distinguished history of working miracles. They looked like nothing more than a pair of worn-out spectacles to any ordinary person, though.

"Are you sure, Ranpo?" Kunikida asked, slightly flustered. After all, Ranpo never used his skill for anything unrelated to a case.

"Of course—"

Ranpo abruptly paused and took in a deep breath. "—not. Did you really think I'd do that?"

The group nodded in unison. You'renotwrongthere.

"You guys are out here busting every little brain cell you've got; it'd be a darn shame if I just solved the problem for you in a snap. Besides, you all ate meat buns without me, and that is unacceptable!" He pointed at the empty plates lined up on the table.

"Huh? But I thought you were stuffing your face with sweets at your desk..." Tanizaki sounded perplexed.

"Okay, sure, obviously I prefer candy and sweet buns, and I also like ordinary stuff like hamburgers and omurice, too! But it's nighttime, see, and there's nothing that grinds my gears more than smelling meat buns in the middle of the night and knowing there aren't any around for me to eat!"

"Let me ask Naomi if there are any left."

Tanizaki hurriedly got to his feet, then trotted past Ranpo and opened the door to the conference room. But as he was passing by, Ranpo quietly stared at him with strangely vacant eyes. After that, he faced forward once more before turning his gaze toward a stack of old newspapers in the corner of the room.

"Tanizaki," Ranpo called out. "Yes?"

Tanizaki turned around, but Ranpo didn't immediately answer. Instead, he gently shook his head before at last saying, "Well, good luck."

***

Tanizaki talked to Naomi in the kitchenette and asked her to look for any leftover meat buns. On his way back to the conference room, he ran into Kunikida.

"Kunikida, how did things turn out?" Tanizaki asked.

"Dazai is handling the meeting. I told him I had some business to take care of and left." Kunikida looked about to make sure there was nobody around before continuing. "More importantly, Tanizaki, how are things coming along with you-know-what?"

"Everything is ready to go."

Tanizaki nodded, then held up the schoolbag he'd received from Naomi just now when they were chatting in the kitchenette. She'd also taken that as an opportunity to try to force herself on Tanizaki, but he managed to escape. Inside the bag was a large brown envelope.

"Tanizaki—you know what to do."

"I do." He nodded. "Everything so far has gone just as you predicted, Kunikida."

"I haven't been partners with Dazai this long for nothing." Kunikida's face twisted in utter and genuine revulsion. "My instincts let me know when he's scheming something. My vision was flickering so much during the meeting that I almost fainted. I won't let him have his way, though. It's time for him to pay for his self-indulgence."

Tanizaki nodded, then headed back to the conference room alone so that nobody would suspect anything.

By the time Tanizaki returned, Ranpo was already gone. He'd left to search for meat buns of his own, only half-heartedly wishing everyone good luck before his departure. Not that a mere "Hey, we've got a meeting" was enough to grab the attention of anyone in the agency, of course. The rest of the participants exchanged dumbfounded glances, then turned their attention to the whiteboard with expressions that said, "Eh, that was a reasonable time to leave."

"Solve an in-house issue"—the proposal Tanizaki came up with.

Settling on one of the earlier extremely generic proposals at the end of a noisy, heated meeting wasn't a rare occurrence, be it at a detective agency or some other company. Nonetheless, that didn't mean the meeting was over. There were countless in-house issues that needed fixing. Big things, little things—risky problems, tame problems. For the entrance exam, however, they had to choose only the most suitable task.

"The elevator's been acting up lately."

"Let's contact the management company."

"The operating room's running out of supplies." 

"I'll put in an order at the usual pharmacy!"

"The office staff said they want takeout for lunch..." 

"What, you want the rookie to open a soba shop?"

Nobody could think of anything worthy. Kunikida returned to the conference room a few minutes after Tanizaki and joined the group in fishing for ideas. However, with all the highly qualified agents at the agency, every suitable issue was nipped in the bud early on. All that was left were tedious, pointless chores such as cleaning, repairs, and complaints about the food.

"Feels like we're right back where we started," Yosano muttered discontentedly. "Aren't there any bigger problems that need solving around here?"

"Well, the president is still single...," offered Tanizaki. 

"Not that big!"

Everyone desperately brainstormed for an idea while exchanging glances, and before long, they arrived at a conclusion: "If there aren't any, then we'll just have to make one ourselves."

A fake case to solve—in other words, a ruse.

Someone would create a fake problem, and the rookie, who happened to be there, would be asked to solve this problem to test his capabilities. The mood in the room made it clear that was the only option; everyone was getting sick of thinking about it. However, there was one person brave enough to object.

"Wait." Kunikida spoke up. "A ruse is all well and good, but there's a fundamental problem with this idea: Dazai."

He looked at Dazai, who cheerfully pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Yes, you. With this plan, we probably wouldn't be bothering anyone outside the company. Someone could simply cause a commotion and create the problem. This part of the plan is fine. However..."

"'However'...?"

"I want everyone to think back to what got us here in the first place." Kunikida stood from his chair, put both hands on the desk, and leaned forward. "The person who got us into this mess and invited the newcomer to join our agency was none other than Dazai. Even though said newcomer was a designated threat, Dazai didn't think to capture him or take him into custody. Rocks-for-Brains here only came up with the terrifying idea of letting him join the agency of all things because the idea just randomly popped into his head."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me." Dazai smiled and scratched his head.

"That's not a compliment. At any rate, I am not advising anyone to reconsider. The president's already given it the green light. However, I know Dazai's nature more than I ever wanted to, and it is painfully obvious to me what he's doing."

Kunikida paused, then looked around the room before continuing.

"'I'm determined to see this through, and I'll push all the hard work onto someone else.' Surely this is what you thought to yourself. Right, Dazai?"

Dazai gleefully smirked and nodded. "Looks like the cat's out of the bag now. I'm impressed, Kunikida."

"Your praise means nothing to me. In any event, I have been burned far too often because of how he does things. Forcing responsibility onto others, shifting it onto others, avoiding it—he flatters people just to kick the ladder out from under them. Whenever I vow to never be tricked by him again, I find myself somehow walking down the path he laid out for me. Thanks to that, I've been through so much over the past two years we've been partners: I've cleaned out drains in the freezing cold, fallen into the women's fitting room at a department store, and even been forced to drink so much that I woke up in someone else's bedroom without any memories of the night before."

"You two have really done some interesting things together," said Yosano in shock.

"You're a strong person, Kunikida!" Kenji praised Kunikida, completely missing the point.

"Therefore, I'm convinced Dazai has come up with some sort of scheme so that he's the only one who doesn't have to do any of the hard work. He's shrewd—I'll give him that. What I'm trying to say is...Dazai, you're planning on getting someone else to do the entrance exam while you're doing nothing! Admit it!"

"Wow, Kunikida. You really like playing the victim, huh?" "Whose fault do you think that is?!"

Dazai nodded a few times before responding. "But I understand why you're worried. Over the years, I have been avoiding boring, tedious work whenever I could. But it would be difficult this time to force the responsibility onto someone else under these conditions. This is a meeting, after all. It would be quite surprising if everyone's opinion somehow suited my needs."

"Really? I think it's quite the opposite," Kunikida said while crossing his arms. "For example, the meeting has pretty much settled on creating a problem that doesn't exist. In other words, we only need one unlucky individual to handle the ruse, and then you're free. Also, you're the one who chose the time and place for the meeting along with who would be coming, so I can't help but wonder if you predicted we would end up going with such a proposal. You waited until everyone decided on it because you calculated your scheme so that someone other than you would have to do all the work. Am I wrong?"

"You're really buttering me up today, Kunikida." Dazai audaciously smirked. "I see now. So you were on your guard this entire time, huh? All right, Kunikida, let's hear your proposal, then."

"I won't force you to do all the work, but at the very least, I want this to be fair," Kunikida stated. "I don't want any dishonesty. Whether the roles are easy or difficult, they have to be fairly decided upon in a way that everyone will agree with."

"Understood. That's a very convincing argument," Dazai said before looking at each and every person in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he added, "What do you think, Tanizaki?"

"Wh-what? Me? Um... I..."

Tanizaki panicked after suddenly being called on. He glanced at Kunikida, who stared back at him as if he wanted to say something. Tanizaki had been a timid person ever since the day he was born, and he tried to think through his confusion. There shouldn't be a problem if he simply agreed.

"I... I think that's a great idea." Tanizaki managed to string some words together. "The entrance exam has always been difficult, so I think forcing roles on one another isn't going to make anything better."

"Then how about we do this?" Dazai clapped his hands together before continuing. "How about we let Tanizaki decide on how we're going to allocate the roles? You could go with ghost legs, or cards, or— Well, just choose something that's fair and square. That's how we'll determine who gets the grunt work. How's that sound, Kunikida?"

Kunikida silently shot Tanizaki a look. Tanizaki started to quietly panic once again; everything was going a lot more smoothly than he had imagined.

"Okay..."

Tanizaki pretended to think while trying to calm himself down. What should he do? He thought back to what Kunikida said when they discussed the matter. According to him, "Dazai never directly says what he wants. He always gets someone else to say it for him." If Ranpo was the art of deduction itself in the agency, Dazai would be the epitome of manipulation. The marionette strings he used to tie down and control people's hearts were complex and abstruse. Nobody could see where they led. But he couldn't stall here.

"How about we draw strips of paper?" Tanizaki suggested with a forced smile. "We'll write numbers on them and have everyone draw one. The smaller the number, the more stressful role." Dazai instantly agreed.

"That's not enough." Kunikida furrowed his brows. "Surely you know how tricky this man's fingers can be. They're frighteningly dexterous. He could pick a lock to a bank's safe with a single needle, so of course making fake slips of paper and switching them out would be nothing for him."

"Hee-hee..." Dazai placed a hand over his mouth as he giggled, bouncing in his chair. "I can't tell you how tickled I am to have Kunikida compliment me so much today."

"Stop laughing. It's creepy."

"Then why don't we do this?"

Tanizaki turned his gaze upon the old newspaper on the corner of the conference table—the one Yosano had been reading. "Let's use this old newspaper. It's from two months ago, so it'd probably be hard to prepare a fake one or write over it."

"Interesting...," Yosano murmured while dragging the old newspaper her way. "You've got a point there. I guess it'd be tough for even a magician to pull a fast one with this. But what exactly are you going to do?"

Tanizaki waited for a few moments before answering.

"We'll cut the dates off with the page number and fold them." He gazed at the old periodical.

"As you can see, there is only one of each number on the pages. This newspaper starts on page one and goes to page forty. Plus, it would be hard to find the same newspaper from two months ago just lying around, so if we cut out the dates with the slips of paper, then you wouldn't be able to re- create these unless you called a business that collected and recycled old newspapers."

"Uh-huh."

Dazai cheerfully nodded. "That's a really good anti-cheating system for something you just came up with on the spot. What say you, Kunikida? Seems foolproof to me."

Kunikida glared at Dazai. "Nothing makes me more nervous than when you claim something's foolproof. Although I suppose I could compromise."

Tanizaki let out an inward sigh of relief. They made it past the first obstacle. The biggest hurdle, however, came next.

"All right, I'll make the slips we'll be using to draw," Tanizaki said as he

began folding the dates of the newspaper. With nothing better to do, the others decided to pass the time by discussing the specifics of this "staged disturbance":

"What if we did it like in a fairy tale, where a princess gets captured by some bad guy? We could have the rookie just happen to be walking by when it happens."

"Hold up. Who gets to be the bad guy?"

"Isn't that why we're drawing slips of paper?"

"I want to be the villain! Sounds like a lot of fun!" "No, you'd break the rookie's skull in."

"Well, I wouldn't mind that."

"Wait. Stop for a moment. We'll figure out who plays the villain through the drawing; there's still the damsel in distress."

"Who's going to play the princess?"

"I mean, we could decide through the drawing as well, but princesses are usually played by women, so..."

Silence.

"Me? Sure, but then I'm gonna split the new guy's skull open." 

"I figured..."

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire..."

"Oh, I know! Kunikida could play the princess!" 

"Are you out of your mind?!"

As Tanizaki was getting things ready, he imagined the tall Kunikida in a frilly white dress while flirtatiously saying, "Oh myyy! Somebody, do help me!" A rather repulsive notion, but one that kind of suited Kunikida for some reason. Either way, that would be enough to blow the lid off the exam in an instant.

Tanizaki suddenly started to become anxious. Was this really going to work? Would this really make Dazai finally take responsibility just as Kunikida said it would? Kunikida assured him this would work as long as they stuck to the plan. And he said that most of all...this was for Dazai's sake as well. He claimed that no one would ever be able to defeat Dazai again after this.

According to Kunikida:

"I was in charge of showing Dazai the ropes when he first joined the agency,buthe'dalreadyreachedtheheightofhisshenanigansbythattime. He had already wrapped his marionette strings around countless people involved, and he even manipulated the moves our enemies made.

"The greatest detective in the agency is without a doubt Ranpo, but his intellect is used for controlling cases and crime scenes. Dazai, on the other hand, uses his intellect to manipulate people—something he uses to take a position of power over them. It would be no surprise if he led the agency one day in the not-so-distant future as the president's right-hand man. I get the feeling this entire ordeal with the rookie was the first step to that as well. We can't have someone as free-spirited and carefree as that in the agency. I am not going to let him keep shifting his responsibilities onto others.Thisentranceexamneedstobeanopportunityforhimtoexperience firsthand how difficult it is to hire and manage someone.

"That is why this entire exam needs to be done by Dazai and Dazai alone."

This whole ruse was created for that sole reason. Tricking Dazai—this was the master plan Kunikida had come up with after being partners with him for two years.

Kunikida's plan went like this:

First, they would place an old newspaper in the conference room before the meeting.

Then, when they were deciding everyone's roles and things started getting complicated, one would casually suggest the necessity of everyone drawing slips of paper to decide roles, since not even the embodiment of scheming itself, Dazai, would be able to manipulate the results. Therefore, everyone would be randomly given their roles, which would be fair. Once that happened, without fail, someone would suggest using the old newspaper to make said slips of paper for the lottery. If, by any chance, nobody said anything, Tanizaki or Naomi would wait for the right moment and suggest it themselves.

Kunikida was going to shut Dazai down, he'd said. He continued by saying he was going to force Dazai to realize what it feels like to carry his own burdens and take some responsibility—both for his own sake and for the detective agency's.

Around the time the slips of paper were finally ready to go, Naomi stopped by the conference room with her schoolbag in her hand.

"Say, dearest brother, I was thinking about heading back home now. Is there anything you needed before I go?"

"Oh, Naomi." Tanizaki looked overcome with relief. "We're about to draw slips of paper to decide roles. Do you have a bag or something I can put these in?"

"How about this?" Naomi replied before taking a large brown envelope out of her schoolbag. Everything was going as planned. "It's a leftover envelope from a school event. You're free to use it if you want."

When Kunikida had mapped out the plan, he proposed including someone who didn't participate in the meeting. Dazai would surely see through Kunikida's scheme if it were only him. On the other hand, having everyone in the meeting involved would run the risk of information being leaked. This was Dazai, after all. He could easily weasel the information out of someone—most likely Kenji. Kunikida's partner in crime had to be the best of the best; thus, he ended up going with the Tanizaki siblings.

Tanizaki himself had no idea why he was chosen. Perhaps he was simply included with the Naomi package deal. It was starting to feel that way. When people asked Tanizaki for help, it was usually because anyone would do, or they needed his skill, Light Snow, for something. But skills were useless against their current opponent, Dazai...which could mean that he was chosen because he was a safe, passable choice.

However, Tanizaki felt he was mediocre at his job, held mediocre principles, and had a mediocre sense of justice, which made him a mediocre human being. He didn't have the courage to talk back to or stand up to Dazai. Put simply, he was incredibly passive.

Tanizaki said he was just your average guy, and he was fine with that. Besides, as the second-to-last ranking agent, what else is there to dobesides follow whatever duties a senior employee gives me? Tanizaki thought as he folded the slips of paper.

"I'm done," he announced.

All the clamoring about the entrance examination suddenly stopped as everyone turned around at the sound of his voice. Lined up before Tanizaki were twenty slips of paper with the numbers '1' to '40' written inside. One might wonder why there were twenty slips of paper and not forty—and that was because the articles were printed on both sides of the paper. Therefore, the number '2' would be printed on the back of page one; the numbers '1' and '2' came as a set, as did '3' and '4.' And just like that, it was the very same up until '39' and '40,' hence why there were only twenty slips of paper.

Tanizaki stacked the papers together before carefully sliding them into the envelope. "Okay, guys. What order do you want to draw the slips of paper in?"

Kunikida crossed his arms and spoke up. "Tanizaki, you made the lots, so it would be logical if you went last."

"What about me?" Dazai asked while pointing to himself.

"You...might come up with a filthy scheme if we give you too much time to think. You go first."

"You don't trust me at all!" lamented Dazai as he drew a slip of paper from the envelope.

"Don't open it yet." 

"Why?"

"Because we haven't decided on the roles. It wouldn't be fair to confirm who lost right off the bat, yes?"

Kunikida spoke with confidence, not even giving a hint that this was all part of his plan.

"That makes sense. I guess we should all open them together at the end." Dazai gripped the slip of paper in his hand. "More importantly, Kunikida, I just had the perfect idea for the entrance exam." He still had the slip held tight.

"And what's that?" Kunikida swiped the envelope out of Dazai's hands, then mixed up the contents before drawing a slip for himself.

"Well, you know that bomb I just happened to receive? I brought it with me."

Dazai pointed at the paper bag with the fake bomb he'd showed them at the café. Some woman had apparently sent it to the pub for him as a gift, but it almost escalated into a bomb scare.

"It'd be a waste if we didn't use it."

"You want to use a bomb?" Kunikida craned his neck. Yosano observed their exchange out of the corner of her eye and drew a slip of paper as well.

"Of course. A bomber will suddenly appear at the detective agency, barricading themselves inside while taking a civilian hostage. We would be able to see how the rookie handles such a risky situation. Obviously, the president will make the final call, but if he can disarm the bomb or persuade the bomber to give up, then the kid passes. What do you say? Sounds like a very detectivelike case if you ask me."

Kenji drew a slip of paper from the envelope. Usually, Ranpo would go next, but he wasn't going to be there on the day of the test, so he was relieved from this responsibility. The last person to draw from the envelope...was Tanizaki.

"Here you go, dear brother." Naomi held out the envelope to him.

Everything was going according to plan so far. It was smooth sailing from here on out. A simple drawing was all that was left.

"So whoever draws the smallest number...plays the bomber," said Tanizaki.

"Right you are," Dazai casually replied.

Tanizaki sneaked a look at Kunikida, who subtly nodded back at him so faintly it could hardly even be seen. Tanizaki was already in this deep, so he felt he might as well let it play out until the end. He drew a slip of paper.

Kunikida's scheme was extremely simple. Fake slips of paper.

The pile Dazai drew from was not the same as the one everyone else drew from.

Of course, this was only possible because they had prepared multiple copies of the old newspaper and tinkered with the envelope. As one might expect from someone who had worked with Dazai for so long, Kunikida was able to predict that the roles for the entrance exam would inevitably be decided through drawing lots and that the point of compromise would be using an old newspaper to make the slips of paper to prevent cheating.

If they were unable to use the old newspaper or envelope, Kunikida had claimed, then that was that. His skill, The Matchless Poet, and Tanizaki's Light Snow would be powerless before Dazai's No Longer Human, since it could nullify any skill simply by Dazai touching them. Their only choice would be to prepare for the worst and pray to the god of chance to make the right decision.

But everything went well this time. Just as planned, Dazai drew from the dummy pile.

First, Tanizaki's job was to get eleven old newspapers the day before, then make numerous folded slips of paper with the same page number and dates. Which is why yesterday, he asked an acquaintance who recycled old newspapers to bring him multiple copies of an old paper with the same date. He used these newspapers to create slips of paper with numbered pairs starting from '1' and '2' all the way to '39' and '40' (page numbers were printed on both sides of the paper as mentioned above, so each slip of paper had one number on each side of it).

Next, his job was to collect all pairs of '1' and '2,' along with pairs of '3' and '4,' before putting them into a small envelope. It was ten newspapers' worth of '1 & 2' pairs and '3 & 4' pairs, thus coming to a total of twenty strips of folded paper. In short, this was a fake pile of lots, twenty strips of paper, to replace the original pile of everything from pairs '1 & 2' to pairs '39 & 40.'

The plan was to force Dazai to draw from this pile, giving him only the chance to get a number from '1' to '4.' Whoever got the smallest number would lose, which meant Dazai's loss had already been decided. In other words, he was going to get the role of the bomber. After that, Tanizaki would only have to switch piles again before everyone else drew a lot. There were nineteen slips of paper in the other pile, which started from the pair '5 & 6' and went all the way to '39 & 40.' Any number would end up being higher than what Dazai drew.

The piles needed to be switched out only twice. As long as that was done, then the rest of the scheme was extremely simple and extremely hard to discover—cheating with a high chance of success. That was why meticulous training was necessary for switching out the piles. That was where Naomi and Kunikida would come in. In the conference room, Tanizaki would pretend to mix the pile of twenty strips of paper, but he'd actually switch them out with the '1 & 2' and '3 & 4' pairs. After Dazai drew a slip, Kunikida would then switch out the pile to the '5 & 6' through '39 & 40' pairs when he had his turn.

Nonetheless, the envelope itself was prepared with a false bottom before the meeting, so switching out the pile itself wouldn't be that difficult.

It was a rather simple mechanism. The false bottom with the fake pile had a string attached that would just need to be pulled to switch the piles. This was Kunikida's ultimate weapon against Dazai that he had been laboriously preparing for well in advance.

All the traps had now been set.

Each detective—Dazai, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, and Tanizaki—was holding a slip of paper. Whoever had the smallest number got shouldered with the most burdensome work, which in this case would be the role of the bomber.

Tanizaki recalled the entire course of events. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Nevertheless, they were up against Dazai—a man who had been playing people, friend or foe, like a fiddle ever since he joined the agency. He was clever, and his behavior always made his intentions unclear as he led those around him into confusion and panic. His past was almost a complete mystery, and before anyone even realized it, everything was going down the path he laid. He was like a certain folkloric trickster.

Would such a trick work on Dazai? "Okay, we'll start with me."

Dazai unfolded the old newspaper scrap. '3 & 4'

"Huh..."

Dazai frowned.

It worked. Tanizaki caught himself before those words slipped off his tongue.

"Looks like you're finally getting what you deserve," Kunikida said to Dazai.

Despite being dragged into this scheme, even the self-proclaimed 'Average guy' Tanizaki felt good seeing the plan go so perfectly. Dazai often led Tanizaki around by the nose and pushed his responsibility onto him, albeit not to the degree that he did with Kunikida. While saying this was revenge would be an exaggeration, it still did feel good to think of this as a little payback.

Next, Kunikida unfolded his slip of paper: '7 & 8'

The mechanism he created to switch piles was working like it should. In other words, the second switch was successfully carried out before Kunikida drew his numbers. Kunikida waved his paper in the air while boasting.

"I beat you, Dazai! This alone has already brought me all the satisfaction I need."

"Darn, I was really looking forward to seeing you cry while holding a bomb and acting like a madman...," Dazai muttered in abject disappointment.

Yosano then opened her slip of paper: '27 & 28' Next up was Kenji: '33 & 34'

Kenji, the youngest detective and most recent hire, had the best luck out of everyone. From Tanizaki's point of view, while Kenji was the only agent younger than him, not once did he ever honestly believe he could beat him. Tanizaki was the only one left who hadn't unfolded his slip of paper yet.

"Let me tell you a little something before you open that, Tanizaki," Dazai abruptly commented.

"Yes?"

"At this rate, there's no doubt I'm going to end up with the lowest number. Perhaps this is payment for my wild lifestyle. So I've accepted my fate and will come up with a story for a man who has lost hope in humanity and excitedly dreams of blowing himself up while taking everyone with him. But first...I need a favor."

"A favor?" Tanizaki curiously tilted his head to the side.

"When you think of bombers, you think of people barricading themselves in buildings, and when they do that, they always have a hostage. If possible, I'd really like someone sweet and passive for that role— someone whose appearance screams hostage. I thought I might ask your sister to play the part. Would that be all right with you?"

Tanizaki looked at Naomi to his side. Neither startled nor puzzled, she placed a hand on her cheek.

"I would love to, if you don't mind," Naomi replied while staring at her brother for some reason. Tanizaki had the feeling that something wasn't quite right, but he nonetheless gave a noncommittal "I mean...as long as Naomi's fine with it" and nodded.

"I'm glad you're on board. Now, go ahead, Tanizaki. Unfold your paper. Your glorious numbers await you," said Dazai.

The faintest of smilesplayed on his face.

Kunikida stood up almost simultaneously, knocking over his chair. "Impossible," he muttered. "Tanizaki, open it!"

At Kunikida's pale-faced urging, Tanizaki unfolded his slip of paper in a panic.

'1 & 2'

"Wha—?"

"Oh, what do we have here? What are the odds?" Dazai grinned. "It appears the god of drawing lots is a mischievous one. I can't believe you drew a number even smaller than mine, Tanizaki. You have the worst luck." Flustered, Tanizaki checked the date on the slip of paper. It was from two months ago, the same as all the other ones. This was without a doubt the same as the others Tanizaki had prepared. The way it was cut out was no different from how Tanizaki had cut out the others, either. This was clearly made from one of the eleven newspapers. But that couldn't be possible. There were only two piles. One contained twenty slips of the numbers "1" through "4," and the other contained nineteen slips of the numbers "5" through "40." Kunikida, Yosano, and Kenji most certainly drew from the latter with the bigger numbers, as did Tanizaki. There was no moment that the piles could have been switched out again. So how did Tanizaki get a slip with the number '1' on it?

 Tanizaki instinctively looked over to see Dazai's reaction—a faint smirking. It was as if that smile could peer right into Tanizaki's heart—as if Dazai knew that Tanizaki knew that he knew.

"This is—"

Impossible. But Tanizaki couldn't say that. After all, the numbers were drawn at random. The only reason a person might make such a claim would be because they cheated.

But who leaked the information? There was no way Kunikida would do something like that. Nor would Tanizaki himself. Which left them with—!

Startled, Tanizaki looked over at Naomi, who gazed back at him teary- eyed.

"I just..."

Tanizaki could see the hearts pulsating in his sister's eyes. She covered her slightly crimson cheeks with her long, delicate fingers, then said, "I just wanted...to be your hostage so you could tie me up and threaten me, my dear, sweet brother..."

***

Night fell upon the agency. The meeting had finally come to an end, in all respects. Everyone left the room, each giving their impressions, then went back home. Although still utterly confused, Tanizaki ended up being assigned the role of the bomber for tomorrow's entrance exam, and his sister, Naomi, was going to play the hostage. Nevertheless, Tanizaki did not have to do this alone. Both Dazai and Kunikida—who respectively pulled '3' and '7,' the next smallest numbers—would be assisting him. Specifically, they were going to call over the rookie to have him run into the bomber and solve the case.

"Good work today, Tanizaki." Yosano smiled faintly and patted Tanizaki on the shoulder on her way out. "I had a great time."

"Good luck tomorrow!" Kenji cheerfully waved good-bye. "I really hope the new guy passes the test!"

Ranpo had already left the building before anyone noticed. On his desk sat a bag of cheap sweets, a cookie cutter, a meat bun wrapper, and some scribblings of the office floor detailing the best places for a bomber to barricade themselves. This must have been Ranpo's way of cheering him on, but Tanizaki just woefully stared at it...because this much detail meant Ranpo must've started on the sketch before they'd even drawn lots.

Tanizaki pondered Ranpo's business trip the next day. He must have predicted that would be when the entrance exam took place, so he arranged it so he could be gone in order to avoid the hassle—as one would expect from the possessor of Super Deduction, which could see all truths.

Most frightening, though, was the fact that Ranpo actually wasn't a skill user. He truly believed he was, but he merely possessed godlike powers of observation and deduction, which he subconsciously used. But the truth as to why and how Ranpo believed this was a mystery to all those at the agency.

"This is bullshit!" Kunikida yelled out in the pub.

"Come on, Kunikida... It's okay...," Tanizaki feebly pleaded.

They were at a pub not too far from the detective agency, one that stayed open late. Orange light radiated from the hanging lanterns as red-faced customers clamored like the roaring sea. On the family altar near the ceiling was a small daruma doll on display.

Kunikida and Tanizaki walked through the pub's curtain to have a review meeting and a reward for their hard work. In other words, a celebration half fueled by despair.

"Man, that was fun, huh?"

Dazai smiled while sampling his sake. He was tagging along for who knows why. Tanizaki, who was still underage, sipped on his soda. "But seriously, I just can't believe you found us out..."

"Heh. I've been scheming since you were in diapers," Dazai said with a chuckle, then tilted his sake cup. "But the reason you failed this time was because of Kunikida's mistake. Dragging his junior into this—especially when that junior was you—was too obvious. It made too much sense. A plan like that's best done solo."

Kunikida glared at Dazai, pouting. "When you're right, you're right," he muttered.

"But, Dazai, how did you do it? If you'd pulled a big number, then I'd get it, but how did you make me draw a one?"

Tanizaki drew from the pile of his own free will. The only way to make him draw a '1,' you would need to make the last fifty slips of paper all '1's. While he did convince Naomi to join his side, he still clearly didn't have any time to switch out the slips of paper after Kenji drew a '33' right before Tanizaki's turn.

"A true magician never reveals his secrets." Dazai mischievously placed a finger to his lips. "I recommend figuring it out for yourself before you even try deceiving me again."

"I'vebeenschemingsinceyouwereindiapers."

Dazai hadn't been exaggerating. Kunikida then lowered his head to Tanizaki apologetically.

"Sorry, Tanizaki."

"Don't worry about it." Tanizaki smiled. "It was a good experience."

That was the truth. He had made it this far in life because he was easily swayed by others. He went along with Kunikida's scheme because he was asked to, and he was going to play the bomber because that was the role shoved onto him. Despite having a slightly bizarre skill, he wasn't great in combat like the other agents, nor was he especially cunning. Tanizaki didn't have any mortal enemies, nor did he have a dark past or any trauma. He was an ordinary guy. The only thing he really even wished for was his little sister's happiness.

Even then, he didn't care where the tide took him as long as he was in the detective agency. Therefore, he even planned on having fun with the bomber's role that was pushed onto him. Fortunately, nobody had ever rebuked him for being weak-willed.

"Nothing wrong with being weak. Let the tide take you somewhere far away."

Tanizaki thought back to something a former teacher had once said to him. Just when he lifted his head back up with a wry smirk, the waiter brought their food to the table.

"Sigh. We wasted an entire day for nothing," muttered Kunikida. "Tanizaki, have whatever you want. I know it's not enough to pay you back for all that lost time, but tonight's on me."

"Hooray!" cheered Dazai. "I'm not paying for you."

Kunikida asked the waitress for another glass of sake before facing the table once more.

"By the way, we never got to finish talking about why the detective agency was founded, did we?" Tanizaki commented while picking up a slice of potato with his chopsticks.

"Oh, right..." After taking a taste of his sake, Kunikida let out a deep sigh. "The president rarely talks about his past or himself. He doesn't give much instruction, either. When the time comes, he'll tell us how the agency was founded." Kunikida stared off into space and continued as if he were talking to himself. "I'd love to meet the person who convinced the president to start it."

Dazai ambiguously smirked. Tanizaki then thought to himself that if it was someone that well acquainted with the agency, then it wouldn't be a surprise if they had already met the person. Perhaps it was even somebody they knew very well.

"But I bet you everyone's dying to know. Go ask the boss next time we're at work, Kunikida."

"Why me? You do it."

"All right, let's all draw slips of paper to deci—"

"I am never drawing lots again." Kunikida scowled at Dazai.

"How about we play a game where the four of us, including the president, draw lots, and the loser has to tell an embarrassing story from their past? That could work, methinks."

"Well, 'Me thinks' you need to shut up!" Kunikida yelled. "The only outcome I can see is me telling embarrassing stories about my past alone!"

He tossed back his sake, then lazily drooped his head. Tanizaki slightly bowed when the waitress brought them another dish.

"I ended up somehow helping you avoid taking responsibility today. It's humiliating. I really thought I had you this time," groaned Kunikida. "I don't care how I do it. I just want to win and make you say uncle."

"Ha-ha. All you had to do was ask, and I'll say it as many times as you'd like. Uncle. Uncle... Now, I wonder what kind of food awaits us under this lid here," Dazai said while reaching out for the plate the waitress left.

"By the way, Dazai, you drew a three, the smallest number after mine... which means you're supposed to bring the new guy on the day of the test." Tanizaki curiously tilted his head to the side. "Why didn't you try to avoid doing that, too?"

"Uncle, uncle, uncle. That's because during the meeting today I felt that Kunikida wasn't just trying to make me pay for everything I do to him on a daily basis. It was like he also wanted me to learn something during this entrance exam, and, well, you have to show a little gratitude for people's goodwill every once in a while."

"Hmph. You're just the absolute worst," Kunikida spat before looking away as if to hide his expression.

Dazai dragged the plate closer and reached for the lid. As he glanced toward the back of the pub, he commented, "Huh. I feel like I've seen that waitress from somewhere before..."

He removed the lid, which instantly made a clicking sound. "......Hmm...?"

Underneath was not food, but some sort of bizarre, elaborate contraption and solid fuel made from a claylike putty. Sticking out from the contraption was a fuse with a cord that connected to the lid in Dazai's hand. Stuck to the back of the lid was a scrap of paper that slowly fluttered down onto the table:

"I said to keep your eyes on me and me alone."

Wrapped around the rim of the lid was a motion-sensor cable.

"......Uhhh... Is this...what I think it is...? One of those things that goes boom if I pull the lid any more than this...?"

Face still frozen in a smile, Dazai turned to his colleagues. However... "Huh...? Tanizaki? Kunikida?"

They were gone before he'd even realized. Sensing danger, they'd bolted out of there like scared rabbits. All that remained were Dazai, who couldn't even move a muscle, the bomb on a plate, and the other patrons, who began to realize what was happening and started to panic.

"...Uhhh... "

Dazai pondered, looked up, looked down, thought about the position he was in, then considered what he ought to say next before murmuring feebly:

"...Uncle."

It was the night before the new employee, Atsushi Nakajima, joined the agency—and the night had only just begun.

***

[pebblysand]

Started reading castles and it’s so good! Don’t know if saying this correctly but… how did you came up with it? Like what made your brain go “ I wanna write about this”?

aw thank you so much! glad you're enjoying!

wow, this is such a deep question. i don't think there was, like, one thing that made me want to write it. i didn't wake up one day with a fully formed idea of what this fic will be. even now, while i do have the overall structure in my head, i definitely also make things up as i go along. castles has known many iterations of itself over the years, and it just kept growing until i felt i was finally able to write it.

the first time i got the urge to write something was when i was 14, right after i first finished reading DH. i remember writing fic in my little school notebook during class. at the time, it was mostly a harry/ginny story about how-they-got-back-together after the war. i lost it and never finished it, but i remember very clearly it already had that sort of quiet, blurry sort of vibe that you get in the early chapters, especially chapter one. that sense of the calm after the storm, and not really knowing what to do with all that time. back then, i was writing exclusively shippy content, and so that's the sort of iteration it took. but i think what drove me to write it was this sort of frustration at the epilogue and at the "lack" of a direct aftermath of the battle. i'm not an epilogue hater, i actually like the epilogue for what it represents, but i think i would have liked more details on the characters and the "rebuilding" prior to it. i think that's where that came from.

the second time i tried to write it, i had just turned 18. i'd done a re-read that summer and by then, i already had a lot more writing experience under my belt (for context, i started writing at 13). i remember, again, it being post-war, and a sort of more "polished" product than what i'd written prior. i think i didn't finish it/publish it back then because a) the hugeness of the HP fandom scared me as a writer, and i didn't want to expose myself to the crazies, b) that's around the same time i fell into House MD, then TGW, and both shows took over my life, and c) i think, looking back, maybe some part of me knew i could write a better story, if i just waited a bit. but, it was then that i wrote the very first draft of what you will now know as the "first time" scene between harry and ginny, and also the line that has now become the fic's summary: to him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals. i remember this re-read was also the first time when i actually sat down and thought about what might have happened to ginny in hogwarts and (i'm remaining vague here cause you've said you only just started reading), had the idea for The Thing. which wasn't so much an "idea" as much as the fact that i was 18 and now a lot more attuned to the world i was living in as a young woman.

i picked up the books again in late 2017 (then, 24) and i remember pulling the story out of my massive archive of abandoned projects, and reading through it after finishing DH. i remember getting to the line "to him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals" and thinking: jesus, that's a good line, lol. and, i think at the time i wrote a bit more of it (i specifically remember writing the scene where ginny, ron and hermione help harry move in to his new flat - now chapter 3), but the issue was that i was knee-deep into writing another long-work in another fandom, and so this sort of took the backseat.

finally, we got to the 2020 lockdowns. i used the first lockdown to fully finish and put in the edits i wanted to add to my previous long work (which i'd finished writing in 2018). then, there was a second lockdown, and a third, and was a bit like: what now? and i re-read HP for comfort (considering the global crisis ongoing lol), and, well, the rest is history. i reviewed and repolished what i already had and put it out in september 2020. i thought to myself, i'll write another five chapters (LOL) and be done by december and, well, again, the rest is history.

so, i think, to answer your question, what made my brain go "i wanna write about this?" - time, really. the passage of time and the idea maturing in my brain. harry/ginny came first, then ginny, then the sort of broader environment (harry moving into a flat, etc), and finally, the overall arc of the story. i think the fascination with the post-war era is just - this idea that how do we get from kids who have been through so much and so deeply traumatised to "all was well". i remember seeing an interview from jkr once where she said that would probably have been the hardest part, and being like "yes, exactly." and, i think that fascination was always there, for me, but it just took a while to fully form.

which is something i now very much try to keep in mind: just because you abandon a project now, doesn't mean you are abandoning it forever. maybe it just needs more time in your head to fully bloom.

[nolawrites]

Hey! I was wondering if you have any tips on plotting out a longer fic/au. I loveee the tin can man a lot and I'm always so at awe at how well everything develops and fits together

Hi! and thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying the fic!

I have to admit, I had to think about this one for a bit for responding because the answer didn't come easily to me.

In terms of tips, these are some of the things that I did with the tin can man, hopefully they can be useful to you too!

I didn't actually start with plotting the whole fic. It started around ch 5 with a vague idea that extended to mha fourth season. Before that, I wasn't planning on the fic being longer than 12 or so chapters. What happened then was I started to add things in, but if I wasn't sure what would happen I made them vague. I especially did this at the earlier stages of the fic when I didn't really know where it was going.

When it comes to fitting arcs together, what tends to happen is that I know where I want the character in particular to end up. For example with Iacov, I know the conclusion of his arc, and at that point its just keeping his reactions and character development in line with that, whilst retaining who he is at that moment as well. I sort of see it as an open world thing almost, in that everyone is their own person and has their own motivations, and I consider what the realistic implications of those characters meeting each other would be, and then plan accordingly.

I write everything down, and I do mean everything. At first it was just on one very long document specifically for planning, but as the individual acts take shape, I now note down anything I think of (dialogue I might want to include, potential plot developments etc) in the correct document. I don't use them all. I remember at one point I had three very different endings for the fic, and turning points for when I would have to make that decision. I've since decided, but I still keep the notes for the others just in case.

I sit and think. For hours tbh. The amount of planning that has just been thinking about the plot is a lot when I look at it objectively. Maybe too much. Sometimes I do run into a plot hole or I have a sequence I want to make happen, but that can't in the current set up, and when that happens I either have to make it happen later in the fic or add in other characters in right place right time scenarios that can facilitate the sequence - i.e. if I think its important enough, I will make it happen.

I listen to music and watch amvs religiously when I'm in the plotting mindset. For me it really helps (and maybe explains why some of my scenes are so dramatic lol).

Sometimes I will write out a scene from a future chapter in note form - I won't bother properly writing it since it'll probably be different when I finally get there, but I will write out the dialogue sentence by sentence about the specific points I want to get across.

Also I would say don't be afraid to scrap stuff. It can feel rubbish if you've put a lot of time and energy in the scene, but sometimes it just happens that you figure out a better way of writing that scene, or even realise that it's not necessary.

I combat writing fatigue by having a lot of plots going on simultaneously so I don't get bored by one thing.

Finally I would say don't give up if its something you really feel passionate about. There was a point where I wasn't sure where the fic was going around ch 23 and because of that I wrote around 4 chapters in a year. But when I sat down and thought about it, I kind of just went "Well I'm not going to know yet how it's going to go, but I at least know up to X point so I'll just write and hope I get more ideas" and it worked. I did. Just because something isn't coming to you immediately, doesn't mean it won't eventually. I think part of it is trusting yourself to be able to come up with something, and then that facilitates the process a lot.

Sorry this was so long! Hopefully its at least somewhat helpful :-)

[x-atlas-x]

Writer Q&A: 1,3, 11 Also, just finished reading 'The Exchanger'. I don't have any way to properly comment on that fic that isn't in the language of keyboard smashing or screams. I'm still waiting for the ball to come out of the sky, and omgwtfasdgfs how can you leave it hanging like that?!?! Please, PLEASE tell me you have a follow-up in mind!!

Hello, my friend!! Thank you so much for the asks <3 This'll probably be a long one, so it's going to be under the cut~

1.) What led you to start writing fan fiction?

I'm not entirely sure. I've been basically writing for my whole life (ever since I was a wee lad) and my roots started in... Sonic fanfiction... Not my proudest moment, but we all have to start somewhere. I was my own worst nightmare when I was merely seven >:)

(I still have the god awful notebook with one of the first fics in it... No, I can't decipher it-)

3.) What experiences/influences have shaped your writing the most?

The last fandom I was in truly brought out my absolute need to be writing constantly and my love for AUs. Upon joining the Yugioh fandom, though, I started to learn how to shape my fanfics and build them up with more emotions (also, I learned how to write smut! which is such a huge accomplishment because I used to never get that far). It's always baffling to look back on my first posted Yugioh fic and my most recent one.

I suppose one experience that I can recall that has truly influenced me and my writing is when I was forced to join a literature contest once and I won first place. It wasn't anything spectacular, but that was the first time that I had officially won something. I forget about it a lot, but I know that gave me an ego/confidence boost of sorts at the time to pursue writing more seriously.

11.) What attracted you to the fandom(s)/media you write in?

Oh, yes, the story about how I accidentally fell into the world of Yugioh. Around the beginning of quarantine, I was still writing for my old fandom. There was an artist on Instagram that did fanart for that fandom, but also did art/talked a lot about Yugioh 5D's. One night, I got bored and I put it on my TV while I was falling asleep. I woke up the next morning, started paying attention, and... Well, here we are.

I replaced 5D's with DM and I actually didn't start properly watching that one until the middle of season 3. I know, I'm insane, but it's difficult for me to get into something from the very beginning. I spent most of quarantine writing fanfiction while binging all of the Yugioh shows (I stopped at VRAINS, but I've watched enough of that to have a vague idea of what happens). And yeah! That's how I got here :)

As for The Exchanger...

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! That ending was definitely something, wasn't it? >:) I do have a follow up floating around in my head, but I'm currently drowning in projects, so... Hopefully I'll be able to get there at some point amongst all of them (and maybe when I get an actual idea of where I'm going with things).

If anyone else would like to send an ask: Questions