#Foreign Language Learning Academy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mreowsu · 6 months ago

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BANGS

summary · have you ever wondered why and when sae started wearing his baby bangs up? :) cw · itoshi sae x fem!reader, español convos r google translated, please correct me for any mistranslations and i apologize in advance, both are 14-15 in this since i speculate the reason started all the way back, hopefully, once the mangaka reveals more of sae's backstory in españa, he isn't far too emo yet at this age wc · 2.5k

Sae had never been one for vanity. His appearance was something he wore like his jersey—unremarkable in his eyes, but a source of endless fascination for others.

He’d stick to the basics—clean-cut, effortless, and sharp enough without even trying. Though, his fans obsessed over every detail, from the sharpness of his jawline to the way his bangs, short and neat, fell softly over his forehead, framing his teal eyes. To Sae, all of this was incidental—just another part of his preference for simplicity.

It was one of those days, during a rare quiet (courtesy of you) evening at the academy dorms. Dinner had been a casual affair, with nothing much to do afterward, and as you wandered back to your room, the brightest idea struck you: why not pay a visit to—bascially, your only friend—at the other side of the academy housing?

When you were both scouted at the ripe age of 13 to play in Spain, both of you had left behind everything you knew—your families, your home, your language. The sudden plunge into an entirely different environment had been jarring. The culture, the food, the constant buzz of español around you—it was overwhelming. High expectations pressed down on your shoulders, with the academy’s reputation and dreams of a professional career constantly looming.

There was no support system to fall back on. Your parents were thousands of miles away in Japan, unable to offer more than occasional video calls and mailed letters. The club staff and academy members tried, in their own way, to act as mentors and parental figures, but it wasn’t the same. The homesickness, the struggle to adapt, and the pressure to perform all felt crushing. Conversations had been stilted and awkward, especially with the two of you still learning to speak in broken, halting español. But over a year later, you’d found a rhythm. When no one else understood, he did. You both knew what it felt like to miss home, to feel like an outsider, to be surrounded by noise but still feel alone.

As cliche as it sounds, in the end; it was you and, annoyingly, Itoshi Sae against the world.

The male dorms were quieter than you expected, a stillness hanging in the air that made your footsteps feel far louder than they were. You had no business being here, not really, but that never stopped you before. And besides, Itoshi Sae didn’t seem to mind your intrusions. Or so you told yourself.

The sharp knock you gave was met with his voice, calm and cool as ever.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, the glow of his laptop casting shadows across his face. His bangs shifted with the turn of his head, teal eyes flicking up with an expression that was neither surprised nor annoyed—just Sae. Acknowledging you before returning to whatever analysis or footage he was engrossed in.

“You again.” he said, his voice neutral, almost bored.

“You should be honored, really,” you poised, breezing past his room like it was yours too. “And unfortunately, you’re my only option Sae.” You drawled.

“Lucky me,” he said dryly, though he didn’t tell you to leave. “You know, most people knock and wait for an invitation.”

“You’ve never needed to invite me before,” you said, settling onto the edge of his bed. “Why start now?”

He didn’t argue, but the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. For all his complaints, you knew Sae appreciated having you around. You were the only piece of home he had here, just as he was for you.

No matter how much the world outside demanded of you—how high the expectations, how foreign the environment—in moments like this, with him, you could breathe.

Sae's dorm was a plain space that reflected the utilitarian nature of the academy housing, yet much derived of personality compared to yous: sparsely decorated but immaculate, everything in its place. A couple of freshly folded jerseys on the shelf, a framed photo by the bed—nothing excessive, just functional and quietly personal. It was so… Sae.

“Well, you’re early.” He remarked, shutting the laptop and leaning back in his chair, his eyes briefly meeting yours before shifting to the clock on his desk.

“Dude, it’s literally evening, and everyone just finished dinner,” you exasperated, rolling your eyes.

He shrugged, a faint smirk at his lips. “For you, that’s early. You usually show up when you’re about to pass out from boredom.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended, before mirroring his smirk. “Damn right I did.”

“Of course,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You need to lighten up,” you teased, flopping around his bed unceremoniously. “This place feels like a showroom. Do you even live here?”

He rolled his eyes, standing up to retrieve something from his shelf. “It’s a dorm, not a hotel. What do you expect?”

“A little personality wouldn’t hurt,” you quipped, watching as he settled back into his chair.

He glanced at you, expression calm but faintly amused. “If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

You grinned, knowing full well you aren’t going anywhere. “Nah, I think I’ll stay. Someone has to make this place feel alive.”

Sae sighed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Just don’t make a mess.”

“Right… So, what’s the plan?” You asked, kicking off your shoes and leaning back on your elbows. “Am I supposed to sit here in silence while you work on drills in your head?”

He stood, walking over with that signature calmness of his, and sat criss-cross beside you on the bed. The mattress barely dipped under his weight, as if even gravity couldn’t unbalance him.

“Maybe,” he teased, voice soft but laced with dry humor. “Unless you have a better idea.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone and shoving it toward him. “How about we pick a movie? Something that isn’t Taxi Driver for once.” As much as you loved the movie, it was getting repetitive, and you were starting to feel like you knew every line by heart.

Sae glanced at the phone, then back at you, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “You don’t like it anymore?” he teased, his voice the usual mix of indifference and amusement.

“I love it, but I don’t need to watch it every time I’m over here,” you replied, scrolling through the options. “We’ve literally watched it four times this week.”

“Then pick something better.” He leaned back against the headboard, his posture as controlled as always, like he had no intention of exerting effort in this decision. But you could tell by the way his teal eyes followed your movements that he was paying attention. Typical Sae.

You sighed dramatically. “You know, it’s a lot more fun when you at least pretend to care.”

Sae raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking to the phone before returning your sigh ten times more dramatic, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Fine. But if it’s boring, we’re switching back to drills.”

You picked a new movie, something lighthearted, easy to watch, and settled back against the pillows, feeling oddly content.

The lights were killed, and the room slipped into a cozy darkness, save for the faint glow of the screen. Everything was ready to go and the movie started. But as it played on, your attention drifted back to Sae, completely absorbed in the film. His burgundy hair fell slightly over his eyes, distracting you for a moment. Without thinking, you reached over and brushed it back into place, the soft strands slipping through your fingers.

Sae’s eyes flickered incredulously toward you, but made no move to pull away.

He was uncharacteristically still as you perched beside him, fingers idly trailing through the silky strands of his hair. Your eyes flickered to his back and shoulders, noticing his now stiff posture. Though he didn’t speak, you could feel the subtle tension in his frame.

You murmured to appease him, “Sae, hold still.” The soft brush of your fingers through his hair seemed to ease the tension, so you continued with slow, deliberate strokes. When you brushed his bangs back, his eyes became the centerpiece of his face—sharp, vivid teals. They were like swirling oceans caught in the throes of a storm, deep and endless, with flecks of light dancing like sunlight on restless waves.

There was an intensity there, the kind that made you feel as though he could see right through you, peeling back every layer with a single glance. But beyond the sharpness, there was something softer hidden in their depths— like the stillness just before dawn.

Without the curtain of his bangs to soften the edges, his gaze became piercing, almost dangerous, like shards of sea glass—beautiful, but with a sharpness that could cut if you weren’t careful.

It was impossible to look away, not when his eyes held that kind of quiet power, commanding attention without a single word.

But then, Sae blinked.

He looked up at you with a slight frown.

"What are you doing?”

You felt the trance slip away, leaving you almost disappointed at how quickly reality snapped back into place.

You blinked back at him, brushing your hands off like you hadn’t just been lost in his eyes for longer than you cared to admit. “Nothing,” you replied innocently, tucking a few strands back into place and brushing his bangs, so they no longer fell over his forehead. “Your hair was in your face.”

“It wasn’t bothering me.” He said, though he didn’t pull away or stop you.

“Yeah, but it was bothering me.” You shot back, smoothing the strands until they stayed where you wanted them. His hair was surprisingly easy to manage, soft and silky under your touch. You backed up to admire your work.

His hair stood upright now, his whole face on display—sharp lines, ahem piercing eyes, the kind of look that stopped hearts if you weren’t careful. Gulp. “You look good like this. Cooler, maybe.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his attention seemingly back on the screen, but the slight tilt of his head toward your hand betrayed him. He wasn’t just tolerating it—he didn’t mind.

He scoffed, “You’re ruining it.” He finally uttered, voice flat. Though he didn’t make a move to fix it.

“Ruining what? You barely even care about how it looks.” You teased, letting your fingers drift through his hair one last time before settling back against the headboard.

His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. “Maybe. But now you have to watch the movie. No more distractions.”

“Fine, fine.” You smiled, turning your attention back to the screen. Yet something about the quiet approval in your gaze stayed with him.

From then on, Sae started keeping his bangs up.

It was a subtle yet significant change that didn’t go unnoticed. His fans speculated endlessly about the reason behind the new style—some attributing it to his growing maturity, others to a shift in his on-field persona. But smugly, only Itoshi Sae knew the truth.

-----

The stadium roared with life as the final whistle blew, signaling another victory for the Re Al youth team. Sae, as always, was the picture of composure. His hair, damp with sweat, stayed stubbornly defying gravity in its upright style, the way he’d styled it before the game.

You watched from the stands, pride swelling in your chest amidst the thrumming energy of the crowd. Unlike your usual matches with the female Re Al youth team, tonight was all about the boys. Your district didn’t have a match, so you’d ended up in the crowd, cheering for a game you didn’t have to play in.

Sae’s teal eyes scanned the rows until they found yours. He didn’t need to smile or wave—just the faintest nod in your direction. It was so like him, subtle and understated, but somehow, and alarmingly, made your heart flutter all the same.

As the team took their victory lap around the field, Sae broke away, making a bee-line toward you. The crowd stirred, curious eyes following his every steps.

When he reached you, there was no hesitation. You leaned over the railing, your fingers instinctively brushing through his sweaty hair. His bangs, stiff from hairspray, you assume, and effort, softened under your touch, falling slightly out of place.

For a second, everything stilled. The roaring crowd, the flashing cameras—it all melted into a backdrop as Sae stood there, letting you fix him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The stadium fell into a stunned silence before the spell broke, erupting into cheers and whistles.

One of his teammates, whose name you didn't really care enough to remember, shouted from the field. "¡Oye, Sae! ¡No sabía que tenías un peluquero de guardia!" Oi, Sae! Didn’t know you had a hairdresser on call!

Hollering followed, and Sae shot them a quick, unimpressed glare. He turned back to you, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks, leaning just a little closer. “You’ve made quite th scene,” he said, voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, your fingers still lingering in his hair. “Can’t help it. You looked like you needed it.”

For the first time that night, Sae let out the faintest chuckle—a soft, almost invisible sound that felt like a treasure meant just for you.

When he walked back to his team, his bangs slightly tousled from your touch, the teasing began almost immediately.

“No sabía que nuestro Sae-chan podía verse tan humano.” Didn’t know our Sae-chan could look so human. They teased, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“O tan mandilón.” Or so whipped.

“Ni siquiera puedo imaginar que pueda sonreír así.” Can't even fathom he could smile like that.

“¿Es esto lo que el amor le hace a un chico?” Is this what love does to a guy? One of them added with a dramatic shake of his head, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

Sae ignored them, of course. But as he glanced back at you one last time, there was something different in his expression—something warm and quiet, a look reserved, meant only for you.

Meanwhile, the crowd’s whistles and playful jeers had you feeling just as flustered. Your cheeks burned, and you could tell by the way Sae’s ears tinted pink that he wasn’t immune to it either.

It was a simple thing, really. A touch, a moment, a look. Nothing too out of the ordinary for the two of you. After all, you were just friends. But amidst the crowd’s cheering, the teasing of his teammates, in the way Sae’s gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary, and in the way your heart raced, it felt like there was more to it.

And then the whispers started.

Backstage chatter, curious glances, and the media’s ever-watchful eye. They’d always known you and Sae were quite close, two prodigies from Japan.. childhood friends, even. But now... now, it seemed the world was starting to wonder if there was more to your bond than just friendship. Perhaps it was.. puppy love? Was there something more to the way you interacted? The teasing? The hair stunt you pulled? Was it all casual?

For now, that was all it was. Just speculation. But for Sae, maybe that small, fleeting interaction was everything.

Maybe.

And maybe that’s why, no matter how many times his teammates teased or fans speculated, Sae never explained why his bangs were always styled up.

-----

HAPPY NEW YEARS! 🥳 🎉 🪅 sorry that i didn't write the way i usually do—in a poetic sense, anyway. This was just pure unfettered bluelock brainrot and the last epiodde from s2 had me going haywire i swear the animators were in the flow ong 😭🙏

#mreowriting #canon character x reader #blue lock #blue lock manga #reader insert #blue lock season 2 #blue lock x reader #blue lock anime #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #itoshi sae fluff

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mrs-stans · 3 months ago

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How Sebastian Stan Finally Brought Hollywood to His Homeland With Romanian Festival Hopeful ‘A River’s Gaze’

By Matt Donnelly

It’s hard to imagine Sebastian Stan fighting for any part in Hollywood.

The Academy Award nominee has proven he’s as bankable in high-brow indies like “The Apprentice” and “A Different Man” as he is in soaring commercial fare like his continuing role as Marvel’s Bucky Barnes (next appearing in “Thunderbolts”).

It’s a cinematic homecoming that has eluded him over his career. Born in Constanța, Romania, Stan has been trying to find a way to bring his day job back to his birth country and highlight talent in the region. Stan told Variety that’s been looking for the right Romanian script to act in for the for the better part of 15 years. Now, he’s found a way to represent behind the camera as a producer on “A River’s Gaze,” a Romanian-set drama from director Andreea Bortun.

It’s a story close to his own upbringing, Stan says. His single mom Georgeta raised him across multiple countries while forging her own artistic and academic path. Bortun, whose work is a blend of anthropology and visual art, has sent up successful shorts to festivals like Cannes (where her collaboration with Stan has submitted for inclusion this year).

“A River’s Gaze” tells the story of Lavinia, a single mom herself whose ambitions of a better life for her 14-year-old son often eclipse his urgent emotional needs in the moment. Told over four seasons in rural Romania, Stan and Bortun caught up with Variety to discuss the artistic trip home.

Sebastian, how did you attach as a producer to this project?

This came from a lot of conversations I’ve had with her over the years about my desire to be more involved with Romania creatively. A mutual friend who we both admire and respect spoke highly of Andrea and sent me her short, which had gone to Cannes. I was immediately blown away. I’ve wanted to act in a Romanian film for a very long time. I’ve tried and it hasn’t come about, but I realized that I can also help behind the camera. Andrea’s script spoke to me personally. At the center is this very specific, intimate relationship between a mother and a son growing up in Romania under particular conditions, which I feel are not always reflected much to the rest of the world. I had my own journey with my mom growing up there and leaving the country. I felt there were things about it that really rang true to me, and that was great, because it only incentivized me to want to be involved further in helping her craft this vision.

Andrea, what would you say is the cinematic language of Romania?

Honestly, I don’t know if it’s still a time of one unique national voice. What Romanian cinema needs is – like all cinema needs globally – are underrepresented stories that show people that we don’t generally see. Characters that are not just compliant and feel-good.

SS: Andrea has a fresh take a woman’s perspective out of the country, which feels new for me. WE finally got a woman who has something to say about the experience over there.

There’s something about the aesthetic that feels very stuck in time. It was surprising to me to see the young male character with a cell phone in some of the scenes.

That’s a very interesting observation from a foreign eye. You would be fooled to say that the action happens 20-30 years ago. At the same time, it’s a mix of what people who have gone to work abroad have brought home with them. [Present-day] Romania is an interesting creature, a part of Europe that has had this history of migration.

Talk to me about the mother-son dynamic at the center of the film.

Our main character Lavinia is our hero, in the most tragic sense of that word. She’s an impulsive one, and she’s quite turbulent and irreverent at times. She wants to be a good mother for her 14-year-old son. She doesn’t know very well how to love, because we learn from what we had. She dreams of a better life for the two of them under bluer skies. For that part of the world, thought, the blue sky is the West. She moves into a decrepit house and wants to make it something that will last and be remembered for.

Her son is at an age where kids need their moms more than ever, this threshold before they flee the nest. She’s not quite aware of this, love to her means doing something meaningful with this house. Despite her efforts of making the best of what she can, there is a deepening of the rupture in between her and her son.

SS; You get to experience what this woman is going through in terms of trying to connect with her son and not abandon who she is. There’s someone to take care of and she must do it alone. You start to see how privileged we are in our family dynamics in the West. This person has to be superhuman dealing with these things with no resources or emotional tools. In my humble opinion, this film explores womanhood and how far it can stretch.

It seems like the community around her isn’t exactly uplifting.

She has an interesting connection to the community. She believes she is very different from others. She’s a fighter. She will go up a mountain to get what she wants. Those around her don’t like that, because she can be a troublemaker. She has a longing to detach herself from this community but doesn’t realize she’s a product of it. In a way, this film helped me make peace with the world I come from. I lived in rural Southern Romania and, after childhood, ran away to study abroad. The idea for this film came to me while I was in New York. I was seeing films from the ‘60s and I thought, “Wow, why don’t people make films about these kinds of women from Romania?” Like the strong Italian women of Antonioni. I came back and spent three weeks researching in villages. I did not want to be afraid of this world anymore. There was a feeling inside of me, something I had not accepted, but I am a part of that. Lavinia’s struggle is mine as well.

Sebastian, did you involve your mom in this process?

No, but she has seen the movie. It was very interesting to share that with her. There are certain moments that only people who have been up against this kind of thing can understand. My mom experienced a lot of hard truths post-revolution. Part of her understood the struggles of the main character. She also had me very young. People have kids a lot older now, and we have more time in the West to get ourselves sorted. A lot of people don’t have that opportunity. They’re still trying to figure out who they are. Andreaa caught that for me in a very authentic way.

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shadowmor · 5 months ago

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Mc is not fluent in Japanese part 2

Idea/summary: The Mc/Reader is foreign and knows just enough Japanese to express basics ideas (almost A2 level).

Part 1

-> Hotarubi & Sinostra house

✋️Obviously, this is not canon. Just a scenario idea

Kusanagi Haku

He already had some doubts about you being from outside Japan before interacting, but he quickly confirmed it.

"No, I'm not taking you to a clinic. Yes, to Darkwick, do you know it?"

But instead of seeing you searching on a search engine, he noticed that you typed the institution's name (incorrectly) into an online dictionary. Oh.

"No, Darkwick is an academy."

"Ah."

Before saying goodbye when you were taken to talk to the teachers, he briefly asked what your native language was. – You only understood the reason behind the question when he greeted you in your native language the first time you entered the Hotarubi house.

He studied some greetings (lazily) in case he saw you. If being cursed was already horrible, imagine not being able to express yourself the way you want?

Even if it wasn't much, Haku thought that by learning your language, you would feel less lonely and scared.

Besides, he noticed that his pick-up lines go in one of your ears and out the other since you don’t seem to understand unless it's in a literal sense.

"..."

"You didn't get it, did you?"

"I just didn’t understand the comparison between me and spring."

"Of course..."

Don’t be surprised if he throws a pick-up line at you in your native language —somehow, he sounds quite fluent in that aspect. (Maybe the color change on your cheeks and ears when you hear it is part of his motivation to practice more.)

Overall, Haku is a great teacher. Extremely patient with your mistakes and playfully teasing in a way that doesn’t make you feel mocked.

Oh? Speaking to me in such a casual tone... are you implying that we are actually closer than I imagined?"

Haku hates working more than necessary, let alone studying. But well, he won’t say no to a study date with you.

That is, until he realizes that you two weren’t the only ones in this study session. He looked at you strangely as you brought the Frostheim newbies.

"Maybe I misunderstood, MC. Wasn’t it just the two of us?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not really." It was.

He also learned to say your name correctly on the first try, just like Tohma.

Haku seems to know a mix of languages, from the most well-known to those he selected out of personal interest (yours made it onto the list).

Subaru Kagami

Although I sometimes doubt that Subaru's external personality is completely genuine, I'll write assuming it is.

At first, he didn’t realize you were a foreigner. Like Alan, he vaguely thought you just weren’t good with words. – For a moment, he felt identified.

But doubts arose when you two started communicating directly. A few pronunciation mistakes here and there, confusing text messages, and the fact that Haku always greeted you in another language made him suspect.

"Hm."

"What’s wrong, Subaru?"

"If I'm wrong, please don't take it personally, maybe I misunderstood. MC, are you from another country?"

"Yes"

Subaru quickly joined the study group, even though he firmly stated that he wouldn’t be very helpful, but demonstrated the complete opposite.

He is a great teacher, simple and direct in explaining grammatical sentence structures or the meaning behind some kanji simbols.

Studying with him is always nice because, in the end, fresh tea and some cookies are ready for your break.

He rarely corrects you outside of study hours, and when he does, he always seems reluctant or annoyed with himself.

If he’s with you and someone misunderstands you, he’ll try to clarify the situation.

Subaru already wanted to study your language to get closer to you and make you feel more comfortable, but what really pushed him was hearing you murmur in your native tongue —he found the intonation so beautiful.

Certainly, it would be a shame if you couldn’t speak in such an expressive way.

Like Alan (again), he prefers learning directly, but to avoid being a bother, he also studies through other resources. – Haku brought some textbooks he found in the library.

He only mispronounced your name twice.

Zenji Kotodama

The best of the best 🙌

He thought it was just a peculiar way of your speaking, but he admires that you went to another country despite not being fluent.

Although his songs may seem a bit confusing, they actually help you correct your pronunciation because he enunciates each syllable slowly.

He sometimes follows you around the academy to keep you away from trouble caused by your lack of comprehension.

"No, no, no, gal! This young man understood something else! Repeat after me so he doesn’t get confused."

He asked you to sing in your native language—he found it nice and tried to imitate it. (It sounded more like phonetic gibberish.)

Now you've been admitted to work with Haku in managing Zenji’s posts!

Congratulations, you're now responsible for adding subtitles to his video-songs in your language. The more people who understand and appreciate the meaning of his words, the better the world will be, right? He needs to touch more hearts.

Zenji is better at explaining the meanings of symbols than strict grammar, but he's still good.

"Oh, my dear. It’s not this, it’s this here. Write it again."

He pronounces your name in an overly dramatic way

He doesn’t mind if you speak to him casually (even if it’s by mistake).

When he accompanies you to the library, you just need to point at a symbol, and he will express what it means. (Maybe his metaphors confuse you, but he will try to be clearer if he notices your confusion.)

---------------------‐----------------------------------------------

Taiga Hoshibami

You almost got grazed by a bullet when you spoke informally to him upon entering the casino for the first time.

Interacting with Taiga is a bit unsettling —one moment, he's laughing at your funny way of speaking, and the next, he’s pressing a gun to your forehead, ordering you to speak properly.

He doesn’t correct you; he genuinely enjoys watching you mess up. Sometimes, he pretends not to understand just to see you desperately trying to replace the word you used.

You might end up being subconsciously registered in his mind as the girl who speaks funny. (Not a good thing. If your Japanese improves, he might pull out his gun again in your next conversation. Better be known as the kitten.)

He might start pointing at objects, waiting (forcing) you to say their names with your flawed pronunciation.

No, he still doesn’t remember your name. If he already struggles to remember the honor student’s title, imagine a foreign name.

Like Subaru, he heard you murmuring in your native language and immediately asked you to speak like that while using your thighs as a pillow. But don’t try saying anything funny—Taiga is extremely sharp to know when someone is making fun of him.

If someone mocks the way you speak while he's around and still remembers who you are, someone’s going to need medical attention. It should only be funny for him.

Taiga seems to know other languages; he might know yours, but I highly doubt he’ll speak it with you—unless he has a real reason to threaten you.

Romeo Lucci

The audacity you have to speak to him so casually using his first name.

Romeo likely knows other languages, being a noble businessman that he is.

He knew you were foreign at first glance and pronounces your name correctly after hearing it once.

You were truly an annoying thing—not just because of your writing mistakes in the reports, but also because even after he explained abbreviations, you still seemed confuse.

"You are such a WOE!!"

"..." Just from your expression, he knew you didn’t understand.

"Waste Of Effort!!"

Yet, there was that same blank look—how the hell did you not get it, even when he patiently explained?

If he knows your language, he might make a slight effort to communicate about necessary matters using it — like Kaito’s routine or about a mission

His corrections always come through frustrated sighs or yelling.

Yet, he somehow always returns your reports corrected, helping you understand what symbols you got wrong.

Ritsu Shinjo

He possibly knows other idioms —a lawyer must be aware of their client’s needs in any circumstance! How would he defend someone without understanding what they’re saying?

He still has your audio response to his question about you being a foreigner (why).

If he has time, he will join your study group. However, he already corrects you in any communication you two have.

Ritsu corrects you directly, pointing out the mistake and the solution. He doesn’t really care about how he’s explaining things or whether you feel embarrassed—similar to Jin in that aspect. Why are you embarrassed? He’s helping you.

As his business partner, your communication must be clear, objective, and efficient.

So, if he doesn’t know your language, he will find ways to learn it. You found it amusing that, just because you’re his associate, he spends nights studying your language. (And he doesn’t understand why that surprised you.)

Despite his "lawyer-like" demeanor, Ritsu is very helpful. He gathers books for you, ranging from basic to advanced Japanese.

He mispronounced your name a few times (maybe three in total).

Sorry, maybe i did wrote too much. Please forgive me for any grammar mistakes TT

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunkers #tkdb #tokyo debunker x mc #tokyo debunker x reader #sinostra #hotarubi #haku kusanagi #romeo lucci #taiga hoshibami #ritsu shinjo #subaru kagami #zenji kotodama

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sweetflanfiction · 6 months ago

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Asymetrical Symphony - Part 13

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I'm back!!! Some trigger warnings: death mentioned and some medical stuff (probable inacuracies).

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12

• ··········· • ············ •

The council met two days after Jayce found Viktor and yourself inside the closet. Two long days of having the big, broad man teasing both of you to hide his own anxiety.

At the beginning of the second day, in the afternoon, Jayce, Viktor, Esther, and most of the investors your mother had rallied had been called to the brightly lit council chamber. You, however, were barred as soon as you tried to get in, the enforcer by the door giving you a sardonic grin when he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you away. Your mother was about to protest, but you shook your head and watched the double doors close on you.

With a sigh, you walked back to the lab. You took your time, pleasurably walking around the Academy until you arrived at your destination.

The glove came off as soon as you got to the lab's floor, and the door unlocked with a flick of your wrist, the rune spoken without thinking about it.

The lab was mostly clean, and you knew that it was because of the council's constant inspection that it had been organized. You sat on Viktor’s worktable, careful not to disturb anything. He had some books on magic scattered with his own notes and writing utensils. After a few minutes of twirling around on his stool, you thought your time would be better spent learning about your power.

The books had different thicknesses and a variety of covers. Some looked antique, leather-bound, and gold-foiled, while others looked more modern with hardcovers and simpler designs. One caught your attention, mostly because Viktor had left a note stuck on it with your name underlined.

'Read!'

The small couch behind the blackboard seemed like the perfect place to read it. Pushing the blackboard out of the way, you grabbed Viktor’s blanket and sat down.

The inventor had already read the book, you noted by the little remarks he had added in little sticky notes.

‘More than one language?’ ‘Prefixes and suffixes. Try.’ 'Curse words? Cursing runes?’ 'Are the runes a foreign language?' 'Do runes have accents?'

You laughed quietly at the annotations. Sitting quietly in the lab was always a peaceful experience. The muffled sounds of the people in the corridors and the soft whooshing of airships going around were soothing. Familiar.

Time ticked by as you read until you found yourself closing your eyes at the words. Shaking your head, you decided to try some new things with the runes.

If runes were similar to words, then they could be combined to make sentences. You looked around the room for inspiration, and your eyes fell on the locked hex-core storage. You knew the cores and gems were either in the council chamber or in Heimerdinger's locked office, now a sort of secure room since he had disappeared.

Not waiting for someone to walk in on you with a blue hand, you grabbed Viktor's colored sticky notepad and wrote the 'unlock' and 'move' rune. Before you could flick the rune with a finger, the locked door slammed against the wall.

“That’s new…” You frowned, determined to try and close the door and lock it from where you sat.

You made the moving rune again, added the little coda signal next to it, and pulled. The door closed with a click. Still unlocked, though.

It didn't take you long to go through half of the notepad trying to decode what you should add to relock the door, and nothing worked.

“Fine…be that way…” you grumbled as you got up and walked to Viktor’s shoulder bag on the coat hanger, grabbed his lab keys, walked to the door, and locked it. As you were walking back from dropping the keys back in the bag, the lab's door opened. For a moment you were confused, not having used any magic, but then Viktor’s handsome face peeked through.

“I thought I told you not to enter the lab without supervision.” He warned without menace in his voice.

“According to my mom, I own 2% of this lab, and I decided that this couch is just that. My 2%.” You joked, getting back to the warmth of the blanket on the couch.

He walked inside, closing the door as he made his way to you, a mocking, pensive expression on his face.

“I guess that is fair. Still does not explain why you are inside the lab.” He got to the couch and moved his index finger around, mentioning the room. "Unsupervised."

“Well, I need access to my 2%, don’t I?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically and sat next to you, leaning his cane on the arm of the couch and his shoulders on the back of it. Without thinking, you covered his legs with the wool blanket, patting his knees.

Viktor looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrugged, trying to look nonchalant at the friendly move.

“Has the council session ended?” You asked, clearing your throat and closing the book. He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Whenever Salo starts throwing personal jabs at me about where I’m from, I know whatever discussion was being had is over.”

“Yeah… stain on the hexgate floor…” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows. “And how did the discussion end?”

“The council agreed to let the Tallis Lab operate as is... under supervision for a while, but they aren’t going to interfere with it.” He played with the hem of the blanket and shook his head. “Esther was a force of nature in that room tonight. For a moment I thought she was going to start casting runes and making the table float.”

You snorted and leaned against the arm of the couch, looking at his profile. Viktor always had a striking profile, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

“Did she ever tell you how we became friends?” He looked at the opposite wall, and you shook your head, making a negative sound.

“All she told me was that you and she had similar interests.”

“About… mmm… 11 years ago, before Jayce and Hextech, Professor Heimerdinger thought it was a good idea to give the engineering students something creative to do. So he asked Esther to come and give our analytical little brains some writing classes.”

“Aren’t you an inventor, though?” You tilted your head sideways to lean against the back of the couch; he nodded.

“I still think in numbers... It's different…Anyway, she would teach one class every two weeks. At first, I did not enjoy it; I could be studying or working, but at some point, I started to like it. My brain would go to these faraway places and imagine all of the things that, back then, were impossible. At some point your mother let us know her opinions of the Undercity, and after class, we spent a good two hours just speaking about it.”

“She does like to talk.” You joked, and he looked at you smiling.

“That she does, especially if she likes the subject. For one whole year, every two weeks I would be the first one in and the last one out. Sometimes she would let me read some of her manuscripts and ask for an honest review; other times I let her read my own school papers.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating? Having an actual writer proofread your papers?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was an Undercity boy, with an Undercity accent and a limp. I was taking any help I could get.” He shrugged, and you snorted. “One day she didn’t show up. I asked Professor Heimerdinger, and he said something awful had happened to her and her family.”

Immediately you straightened up, eyes wide in curiosity. If his math was correct, and it was, this was about the same time engraved on the stone at the cemetery.

“I knew she had a husband and a child about my age. There was never an opportunity for me to meet them, but still, whatever had happened, I wanted to show my solidarity. So, poor young Viktor walked all the way to the penthouse, and once he got there, Voltaire told poor young Viktor she was at the Skyward Clinic."He sighed, looking at his hands, flexing and relaxing his long fingers. "A trolley had derailed. Her husband had died on the route to the clinic. Her child seemed to be in a very precarious state.”

The buzzing in your ears started to drown out anything but Viktor's particular speech pattern. The corner of your eyes started to tunnel around him. Your breathing started to become elaborate as you tried to hide your restlessness.

It had never seemed to be the right opportunity to ask your mother how it happened. She had mentioned the accident but never in specifics, and you respected her need to keep it to herself. People grieve in their own way.

Your father could never pass by the hospital your mother had died in, even though he would make generous donations to it. But he would always take the long way if the quickest path passed by it.

“I had little money to spend on frivolous things like trolleys, so I walked all the way back to Skyward…” He made his fingers do a little walking motion in the air.

“That’s on the opposite side of the city.”

“It is.”

“And you walked there?”

“I did.” He nodded, his own eyes focusing on something on the floor, his mind tracing the memory.

“Your leg... your back...” You were about to start to complain about his recklessness, but he snorted.

“My lungs.”

“Your lungs?” This was the first time he had mentioned them.

“They took the brunt of my stupidity and my lack of funds." He gave a humorless snort and took a deep breath. "Everything collapsed as soon as my brain figured out how much strain I had put on my body."

He tilted his head to you but didn't look up from whatever it was that he was focused on on the floor.

"Do you know what the gray is?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know what it does after long-term exposure to it?"

The question wasn't out of the blue, because of the subject being discussed and the person it was being discussed with. However, it hit you like a rush of cold water. You didn't know what it did personally, but you'd seen it on someone else. You'd seen it on his other dimension twin.

"Yes." You couldn't look at him.

"The respiratory system starts to rot. According to the doctors, I would be dead in about five to six years. But Esther…”

You remembered the day your Viktor had announced his own diagnosis. He had used those exact words, but the years were shortened to months.

That day had been seared into your brain. The way his voice sounded so strong and yet so broken, and he hadn’t allowed you to shed a single tear, even though they were flowing. ‘Save them for when I’m gone.’.

Your eyes filled with unshed tears now that he wasn't here to see them fall.

“I don’t know how, or even when, but I distinctly remember your mother holding my hand and crying by my bedside table. She said to me..." He cleaned a tear of his own, with the tip of his fingers. “She said nobody else’s child would be dying that night.”

It was like the air in your body had been sucked out. It held in your throat as your eyes widened.

“The doctors said we were a perfect match." He sighed, his eyebrow furrowing. "From blood type to size to the age of the donor. The chances of my body accepting the donated organ were above 80%. And Esther allowed it. And I survived.”

You gasped and followed his hand, which was now tracing a line of his diaphragm gingerly.

“There’s a scar right here…” He tapped his fingers in the lower part of his chest. “A reminder that death is sometimes inevitable for life to happen."

Viktor sniffled, closing his eyes, his hand still on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

"After that, we became inseparable. I will never be able to thank her for what she did, and if there is ever anything I can do to repay it, I will do it.”

There was silence now in the lab. The words he had spoken kept swimming freely in your head, fading into images of another Viktor coughing up blood and slowly succumbing to his illness.

You felt your body move on its own accord, your mental state not providing the necessary filters for you to stop yourself.

Viktor jumped when he felt your palm on top of his, on his chest, but didn't move away. You felt his breathing even out and even felt his little sniffles.

“You’re not dying.” You whispered more to his other self than this one, as if somewhere in the other timeline your Viktor could hear you.

“I am not.” Viktor whispered back, moving his hand so your own was flat against the fabric of his uniform.

You touched his shoulder with your forehead, a hand still on his chest, and you sobbed. There was sadness and anger and happiness and confusion; it was a convoluted mix of emotions that you couldn’t stop.

You were ecstatic that this Viktor was free from his impending doom, but you felt like your heart was breaking because your Viktor, the one you had loved and lost, could have been saved, could have had this.

Hindsight was indeed 20/20. This type of procedure has never been given a thought. Although something told you the Viktor you knew would never go for it. He had already accepted his fate. His death.

You kept asking yourself: Had you known then what you know now, not just about the Herald but about the possibility of you giving him a chance, would you accept it? Would you give your life for him? If you could?

Sadly, you didn’t know the answer to that. In a second of insanity, you just might, but if you had more time to think, the answer was not as clear.

And that confused you and angered you.

You noticed his hand on top of your own, his thumb gently stroking the back of it. You stiffen, finally realizing where and how you were placed. Half on top of his torso, your forehead on his shoulders, hand on his chest.

Quickly you moved your body away from his.

“Sorry…I... You tried to clean your face with the back of your hands.

“It is expected. Aside from this..." He pointed to the hand he still held on his chest, and you quickly moved it away. "Jayce's reaction was sort of the same...”

“Sorry…It’s…huh…hard, I guess.”

“Matters of life and death often are.” He looked at you, his eyes softening.

Your mind jumped to when you asked if she would choose you or Viktor in case of need and how her answer was immediately him. Since the subject was saving Piltover, it made sense she didn’t hesitate, but now…now you understood it more deeply. He had a part of her child in him. She would save him not just because of the future but also because of what he meant to her.

“Esther... she...” you said, accepting the burgundy handkerchief he was offering you. “She's very brave...”

Viktor smiled brightly even if his cheeks still had tears in them, and you did the same, seeing him as a completely different person for the first time since you got here.

Nature made them equal; nurture made them opposites.

• ············ •

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked your mother as soon as you were both alone in the penthouse.

“About?” she asked, going around the kitchen, having decided at 11 at night to make cupcakes.

“Viktor and the surgery.”

She stopped abruptly and looked at you as you sat quietly in the breakfast nook of the kitchen. You made a conscious effort not to show or sound angry, because you weren’t.

“I…Did he tell you that?” You nodded, and she leaned her hip into the counter, looking at a point in the distance. “It was a burden that I didn’t think you’d need.”

She sighed, coming to sit on the opposite side of the table with a deep breath.

“Sometimes I still struggle with the decision I made. My child was gone, and he was there, lying on a hospital bed filled with tubes and machines, and…it became such an easy decision to make back then… I sometimes wonder if she would think less of me because of that...”

“I’m sorry.” You grabbed her shaking hand after a few minutes of silence. “I…don’t know if it means anything, but…as your child from another dimension, I don’t think I could ever think less of you.”

Esther smiled at you and extended a hand to touch your cheek. You took a deep breath and waited. Her touch was warm and gentle, her thumb stroking the top of your cheekbone, and you felt a kiss on your knuckles.

“Thank you, my dear. It means the world to me.” She whispered.

• ··········· • ············ •

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dreamdolldeveloper · 1 year ago

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back to basics

mostly free resources to help you learn the basics that i've gathered for myself so far that i think are cool

everyday

gcfglobal - about the internet, online safety and for kids, life skills like applying for jobs, career planning, resume writing, online learning, today's skills like 3d printing, photoshop, smartphone basics, microsoft office apps, and mac friendly. they have core skills like reading, math, science, language learning - some topics are sparse so hopefully they keep adding things on. great site to start off on learning.

handsonbanking - learn about finances. after highschool, credit, banking, investing, money management, debt, goal setting, loans, cars, small businesses, military, insurance, retirement, etc.

bbc - learning for all ages. primary to adult. arts, history, science, math, reading, english, french, all the way to functional and vocational skills for adults as well, great site!

education.ket - workplace essential skills

general education

mathsgenie - GCSE revision, grade 1-9, math stages 1-14, provides more resources! completely free.

khan academy - pre-k to college, life skills, test prep (sats, mcat, etc), get ready courses, AP, partner courses like NASA, etc. so much more!

aleks - k-12 + higher ed learning program. adapts to each student.

biology4kids - learn biology

cosmos4kids - learn astronomy basics

chem4kids - learn chemistry

physics4kids - learn physics

numbernut - math basics (arithmetic, fractions and decimals, roots and exponents, prealgebra)

education.ket - primary to adult. includes highschool equivalent test prep, the core skills. they have a free resource library and they sell workbooks. they have one on work-life essentials (high demand career sectors + soft skills)

youtube channels

the organic chemistry tutor

khanacademy

crashcourse

tabletclassmath

2minmaths

kevinmathscience

professor leonard

greenemath

mathantics

3blue1brown

literacy

readworks - reading comprehension, build background knowledge, grow your vocabulary, strengthen strategic reading

chompchomp - grammar knowledge

tutors

not the "free resource" part of this post but sometimes we forget we can be tutored especially as an adult. just because we don't have formal education does not mean we can't get 1:1 teaching! please do you research and don't be afraid to try out different tutors. and remember you're not dumb just because someone's teaching style doesn't match up with your learning style.

cambridge coaching - medical school, mba and business, law school, graduate, college academics, high school and college process, middle school and high school admissions

preply - language tutoring. affordable!

revolutionprep - math, science, english, history, computer science (ap, html/css, java, python c++), foreign languages (german, korean, french, italian, spanish, japanese, chinese, esl)

varsity tutors - k-5 subjects, ap, test prep, languages, math, science & engineering, coding, homeschool, college essays, essay editing, etc

chegg - biology, business, engineering/computer science, math, homework help, textbook support, rent and buying books

learn to be - k-12 subjects

for languages

lingq - app. created by steve kaufmann, a polygot (fluent in 20+ languages) an amazing language learning platform that compiles content in 20+ languages like podcasts, graded readers, story times, vlogs, radio, books, the feature to put in your own books! immersion, comprehensible input.

flexiclasses - option to study abroad, resources to learn, mandarin, cantonese, japanese, vietnamese, korean, italian, russian, taiwanese hokkien, shanghainese.

fluentin3months - bootcamp, consultation available, languages: spanish, french, korean, german, chinese, japanese, russian, italian.

fluenz - spanish immersion both online and in person - intensive.

pimsleur - not tutoring** online learning using apps and their method. up to 50 languages, free trial available.

incase time has passed since i last posted this, check on the original post (not the reblogs) to see if i updated link or added new resources. i think i want to add laguage resources at some point too but until then, happy learning!!

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konfeitos · 11 months ago

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IN HALF BROKEN JAPANESE.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤHAWKS X GN! READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring : takami keigo aka hawks ╱ gender neutral reader

❛❛ ⠀In half broken Japanese, I wrote to you 愛してる oh 愛してる ... ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀a partial canon divergency of post-final war arc, you reunite with your lover !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes : dedicated to @falryllghts / @brunette-sketches ! gender-neutral reader. reader isn't from japan and is learning japanese; they're a foreign hero that has volunteered to help with the restoration efforts. established relationship. be gentle with me and my interpretation of hawks. it has been a while since I've written for him. minor spoilers for chapters 424 & 426. not proofread. WC — 2.1k.

A week passed.

Despite the lack of villainous activity, both minor and significant, people still wait with bated breath for any horrid news to drop each morning. It’s difficult for Japan’s citizens to trust the calm that has finally arrived from the end of the war.

All you can do is hope that your presence, along with the other foreign heroes that have volunteered to be here, can help their nerves.

The second that news spread that Japan was entering a restoration phase after the war had ended, you jumped at the chance to offer your support. A hasty decision that you probably shouldn’t have made considering you had an entire agency to run, but you had full trust in your staff and sidekicks to hold down the fort without you there.

Honestly, you can’t even recall how long you rattled off to your poor secretary on how long you’d be away to come out and help.

That’s definitely something you should be spending your break on to properly discuss with your agency on when you’ll be returning.

But instead, you started wandering off from the district you were assigned to, flashing polite, albeit awkward, smiles at any heroes you made eye contact with and hoping none of them tried to initiate a conversation. Even with the micro-translator devices that everyone was provided with—which were built by that one support course student from Japan’s number one hero academy—you still hesitated to converse with them unless it was absolutely necessary.

There was a chance that you could’ve been given the one faulty translator.

And what if you only found out once someone tried to talk to you?

What if it malfunctioned and was set to translate to a different language other than your native tongue?

What if—

Your eyes immediately land on Keigo once you step foot into the district he’s overseeing, cutting your thoughts short.

Finding him in a crowd of people has never been a challenge for you. Your gaze never fails to gravitate towards where he stands like he’s a beacon that calls out solely to you.

From a single glance, Keigo looks as carefree as he normally does as he watches everyone.

However, in your eyes, you can easily piece together from his stance that he’s more lost in thought than he probably thinks he is. And the more you inch closer to where he’s perched, the more you can confirm your suspicions.

You note the tension in his stance as he’s somewhat hunched over like he’s actively thinking about the loss of weight on his back. (Which he probably is. His sense of balance has been a recent struggle from what he has told you before you arrived in Japan. He has shared some instances of losing his balance here and there. These stories have always been accompanied by his laughter while you would just sit there and think how you’d help him steady himself whenever he felt off balance.)

The wind starts to pick up a bit; it’s a gentle breeze that’s enough to make you aware of its presence and stir memories in Keigo’s mind judging from the way his gaze grows distant.

His hair, now tousled by the wind, dances around his face.

If you focus solely on his face, this would seem like one of the many pictures you’ve seen captured of him in the middle of flying that would appear on your timelines.

You wonder if to Keigo whether this serves more like a stark reminder of the freedom he once took for granted.

Keigo’s body instinctively shifts forwards almost as if trying to follow after the direction the wind blows in from where he is to the best of his ability. There’s the faintest hint of a bittersweet smile that rises to his lips as he glances up at the sky that remains just out of reach.

As much as you enjoy staring at your lover, you feel like it’s best to make yourself known than continue staring and getting caught.

The unfocused state of his gaze clears up at the sound of you clearing your throat. Just as quick as his former flying speed, his eyes shift over to you. In an instant, his pupils dilate at the mere sight of you and warmth blossoms from his stare.

One of his hands reaches up to tap the micro-translator device in his ear, presumably to turn off, and you find yourself mirroring his action. After all, he’s the only one you’re actually able to hold a conversation with due to Keigo’s fluency in your native tongue.

“What brings you over here, sunshine? Miss me?”

No longer does a bittersweet smile rest on his face. A wider, affectionate grin replaces it with ease while he steps away from his post to approach you.

Your immediate thought is to deny it.

Except you know very well how that interaction would play out, and being called out by Keigo isn’t entirely something you wish to go through right now.

Yet, admitting to missing him felt a bit too much. Knowing yourself, you may sound more vulnerable than you would like. All your worry and concern may leak out the moment you utter a single word.

Which is also something you don’t wish to go through right now.

Not yet at the very least. Not when you’re both in the middle of helping out with the Restoration Efforts.

The lack of a quick and witty response from you seems to catch his attention since he moves closer. With a gentle nudge to your side, he waits for you to meet his eyes before he nods his head to the side.

“Want to join me in getting a drink?”

He doesn’t actually wait for your answer when he starts to walk off. He’s confident in the fact that you’ll follow him no matter what, and you inwardly curse at the way your legs instantly move to catch up to him.

By the time you stand at his side, he’s sliding in a few yen coins into a vending machine. “What would you like?” Keigo asks, pushing the button for that canned coffee that he enjoys. He’s already sliding more yen coins into the machine before he looks at you.

“Oh,” You blink a couple times and examine the options in the vending machine a bit frantically.

It’s just as you thought.

You can read none of it.

Well, there are some labels you can read, but that doesn’t exactly help you in figuring out what the drinks are exactly.

After what feels like an eternity to you, you finally sputter out a sheepish, “Uhm, water’s fine.”

There’s no way you were going to spend anymore time staring at this machine like it would magically translate itself for you. You’re sure that even if you could read the labels that you would still be fighting against your indecisiveness to make a decision.

“Alright.”

Despite his acknowledgement to your answer, Keigo pushes at a button for a different drink. Your mouth drops partly open before you lightly smack his arm when he bends down to collect both drinks.

“What—hey! I said that water's fine. You didn’t have to get me something else.”

“I know,” Keigo offers nothing more than a smile and shrug, “But I can tell you’ve been working hard today, and you should hydrate with more than just water. Besides, I think you’ll like this.” He holds up the drink, shaking it lightly to draw your attention towards it. “It tastes the same as that brand you like back at your home.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that he sees past your act of being fine and not tired from how long you’ve been helping out in the district you were assigned to. Or that he remembers something as mundane as the type of drink and flavor you like and offers you something similar so you can have a sense of a familiarity while you’re out in a whole other country.

Either way, you’re a mess.

So much of a mess that your thoughts are circling around one singular thing.

You truly, truly love Keigo.

Maybe you love him a bit too much. You’re starting to think so because you find yourself compelled to do one thing and that’s to blurt it out right then and there.

And not just in your language… but in his.

Your Japanese reading skills may be lower than beginner level, but you have been practicing speaking it. Especially a couple, certain phrases.

What’s the worst thing that can happen? He laughs at you?

Thinking about it, Keigo would laugh regardless. That idiot, you think affectionately, is always laughing around you. A habit of his that you’ve never understood. (Often you’d catch him with the corner of his eyes crinkling whenever he stares at you and starts to laugh. His sudden bursts of laughter is something he never explains but promises mean nothing bad.)

A gentle tapping against your forehead draws you away from your thoughts. You huff lightly and reach up to swat his hand away, ignoring how his chuckle makes your stomach twist into itself.

“I can see you overworking that pretty little head of yours. What’s on your mind? You can tell me, it’s just me.” Keigo says that so casually like he isn’t the most precious person in your life.

Like you don’t stay up late when you’re in your respective home country simply to receive his texts or be on video call with him. Like you didn’t just jump at the chance to head straight to Japan after hearing the news solely because one of your biggest concerns was how he was out on the battlefield during the war.

You know yourself.

If you don’t say it now then there’s no chance you’ll muster up the courage to say it later.

Locking eyes with Keigo, you take a deep breath and utter out a shaky, “愛してる¹.”

The silence that follows afterwards feeds the anxious thoughts growing in your head.

Was your half broken Japanese that bad that he didn’t understand it? Or maybe he did and it was way too soon to even think about telling him that. Oh god, maybe you should have practiced more to ensure that you would have nailed the pronunciation.

“Woah,” Keigo breaks the silence, yet it hardly does a thing to calm your nerves. You spill out an ‘I love you,’ and all he does is go, ‘woah,’ and nothing else.

Before you can take back your words, he continues.

“When did you have the time to practice Japanese? I thought you were too busy worrying and fussing over me lately.”

This was a mistake.

“Forget I said anything!” Turning your head away, you can feel your cheeks growing warmer by the second. Your drink suddenly looks far more interesting than anything else around you.

Except Keigo would never let you take your eyes off him.

It doesn’t take him long to start leaning against your side. “Say it again!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t actually mean it.” Your words elicit a boisterous laugh from him, which only causes your cheeks to flush even more.

A moment passes before he’s calming down and a more gentle looking grin settles on his face. “I think I’m going on vacation after all this.” Keigo states out of nowhere that you pause for a moment.

Huh? Where did that come from?

Catching onto your confusion, Keigo chuckles. “I was offered to take over as the president for the HPSC.” Hearing that has you widen your eyes a bit as you vaguely recall what you did know about Japan’s HPSC. He doesn’t let you dwell too long on these thoughts with his next words. “I’m turning the offer down. That kind of responsibility just isn’t for me.”

However, Keigo doesn’t stop talking there.

“What would you say your hometown is like during this season?”

It truly should be illegal how easily he can turn your thoughts to revolve around him and the things he says. Because now you can only think about him (which is nothing new) and at your place!

“It’s… It’s nice. Uh, yeah, you should totally come visit. If you want. I might know a place for you to stay for as long as you’re there.”

“Really now?”

Oh, you need to wipe away that look from Keigo’s face now before you explode.

“Or maybe you can go sleep outside for all I care.” You spat out of embarrassment, ignoring the way he breaks out into laughter yet again.

A sound you’ve heard plenty of times but never gets old to you.

“Keigo.”

“Hmm?”

“... 心を愛してる².”

“I love you too.”

愛してる ¹ — I love you 心を愛してる ² — I love your heart

#— ✦ ˙ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 .ᐟ #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x gender neutral reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x gn!reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader

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peach-top · 6 months ago

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❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER IV.

➤ RED SPIDER LILY

“And that's how I was able to use my magic for the first time.” [Y] finished while showing off his bow and arrow. “Wind Archer taught me. I have others like Moonlight Cookie to help me with my spell. Some were self-taught. For example; I taught myself how to heal and revive living beings.”

“You seem to be taught really well in the forest without having to go to the Blueberry Yogurt Academy.” White Lily praises the taller male. “Incredible.”

“Thanks. It's not that big of a deal.” The taller male shrugged as his weapon vanished in thin air. “It's not as strong as Wind Archer since I'm unable to control the wind, so I used other magic.”

“I've been in the forest for so long that I never know what could be waiting for me to discover. For example, I learned how to read foreign languages and write back in the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Still a little sloppy, but it's worth a try.”

“Oh, I can't forget that I tried ice cream coffee for the first time. It tastes bitter and sweet.” [Y] continued, “Dark Cacao was kind enough to give me a tour and taught me new things that I've never experienced before.”

White Lily blinked owlishly, “Oh? I've never thought Dark Cacao would be so kind to someone…He is always so serious, but he's not a bad person.”

“True, but I've been seeing him smiling and laughing a lot. Wasn't he always like that?” [Y] tilted his head. “Most of all…he grants me a kiss on the lip before leaving. I don't know what it meant, but I think it's nice.”

White Lily flinched. A kiss? Dark Cacao kiss [Y]? Why? Why was that all of the sudden? Was he an evil clone? Was he put in a good mood? Or…did Dark Cacao fall in love? That's unlike Dark Cacao.

“D…did he really kiss you?” The white haired female gasped.

“Yeah. I wouldn't lie about it.”

“...!”

“I see that you two are getting along. How's everything?” Elder Faerie approached the two.

“It's going pretty well. We were just talking about my travels.” [Y] answered.

The elder faerie turned his attention on White Lily and asked, “White Lily Cookie, are you feeling well? Well enough to open up to the faeries who are awaiting your arrival?”

“Ah…N-not yet…”

“...I understand. We'll wait until you're comfortable.” Elder Faerie nodded with understanding. “It’s getting late. I think you two should get some rest. I will give you two a place to rest.”

“Thank you…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Both White Lily and [Y] were given shelters next to each other, thanks to the faeries who lend them a place to rest. Elder Faerie has to keep watch of the flower that was once again trying to escape. Since [Y] is no longer in their sight, it was becoming much more aggressive, the more it lost the sense of the old master.

“What can we do?” One of the knights frowned.

“...I’ll keep watch of it. I know a magic trick to keep it from escaping.” Elder Faerie answered. “However, starting tomorrow, I would like to set it free.”

“B-but your majesty —”

“Don't worry, it won't attack [Y]. I would like to see if it can be tamed by him.” the elder faerie stated.

“?”

Unknownist to Elder Faerie, a white lily flower slowly turned into a red spider lily flower.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

White Lily Cookie wakes up to find herself in a black void filled with nothingness. She looked around in panic, calling out for the faeries and [Y], but there were no responses.

“W-where am I…?” White Lily whined. She felt white lily flowers suddenly appear beneath her. “White lilies?”

As she reaches out to touch the flower, only for them all to turn into red spider lilies, catching her off guard. What is even more terrifying, eyes starting popping out from around her.

“...?!”

The female heard heavy footsteps coming from behind her until it stopped. White Lily was too afraid to turn around and faced that person who happened to appear out of nowhere. The aura…the aura is what put her in fear.

❝so…you're white lily cookie.❞ a stoic and deep voice spoke. ❝you’re not someone who I expected. none of you so-called heroes reached my interest. however…you…❞

White Lily tense when the mysterious figure gently grabbed her braid then let it drop on the ground, ❝…are someone i despise. if i were to get control of your body, i would've use all my power to regain my body and memories then killed you…❞

“...W…why me…?” White Lily asked in fear.

❝why…? didn't you cause the birth of dark enchantress cookie? release the spirit? deal with a dragon? ah, can i not forget…you nearly awoke me from the dead. a pity…that i was reborn as someone pure and innocent by that tree…worse, you sealed my beloved friends before they can set themselves free…❞

“?!”

❝don't you realize how unfair it is to have someone precious to you being taken away and your own people you trusted betrayed you behind your damn back❞ the mysterious figure asked in a angry tone. ❝look at what i become. someone who was born with anger, betrayal, and distrust. i envy anyone who didn't suffer a similar fate.❞

“...Who are you…?”

❝you haven't heard my real name…you all call me “the watcher” but my real name is…red spider lily…don't you forget…❞

Before White Lily could ask a question, Red Spider Lily placed his hands on her throat, strangling her. He won't let anyone wake up from their dream without feeling any pain. White Lily struggled to breathe and break free, but unfortunately his grasp was getting stronger, making it impossible for her to escape.

❝you’ll feel little to no pain when you wake up, however you will be awoken with a mark on your throat…you won't remember this conversation either except my name and your encounter of this place. we will probably meet again…in person…❞

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

White Lily jolted awake, holding her throat. [Y] was sitting next to her with a concerned look on his face, “White Lily Cookie…”

“...[Y]...” White Lily whimpered. The taller male panicked slightly, “Did you have a nightmare? You were whimpering in your sleep when I'm trying to wake you up.”

“...I can't remember what I was dreaming about…” the white haired female frowned. “All I can remember is…Red Spider Lily Cookie…”

“Red Spider Lily Cookie? Who's that?”

White Lily replied, “It's the real name of The Watcher. I'm not sure why I remember that.”

[Y] noticed a large purplish red bruise on the female's throat. He pointed out, “White Lily…Was that always there?”

“Huh? What is it?” White Lily tilted her head. The taller male grabbed a mirror from the shelf and showed it off to the female. White Lily gasped at the sight of the mark on her neck. It wasn't there before. So how is it there now?

“When I arrived here after hearing you choking and whimpering, I saw that mark on your neck.” [Y] pointed.

“...!”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Elder Faerie frowned while witnessing the white lilies slowly turning red. He gritted his teeth, feeling anxious about this cause these lilies symbolize death, plus these flowers belong to someone he wished he could forget.

“The lilies are turning into…” Silverbell trailed off as he kneel down before a red spider lily and reached his finger to touch it, “...red spider lilies…It hasn't been seen for thousands of years.”

“Have he awoken…?” Elder Faerie whispered to himself. “No…impossible. I don't sense him anywhere or nearby. There had to be something else.”

“Elder Faerie? What's going on?” [Y] asked before turning his attention to the lilies, “Oh? Were the lilies always like this?”

Elder Faerie frowned, “[Y] seems the same. Nothing changed, but why the red spider lilies here?”

“Red Spider Lily Cookie…” Everyone turned their attention on White Lily who just arrived after the wanderer. Elder Faerie raised his eyebrows, “What did you say?”

“Red Spider Lily Cookie. It's the real name of the lord of all eyes…” White Lily replied.

“...! How…do you know his name? How can you be so sure about that?” the elder faerie’s eyes widened.

“...” The white haired female grasped on her staff tightly, “...I’ve met him in my dream. I don't remember the conversation, but it all felt so…real. He choked me at the end, leaving a mark.”

“I try to heal it, but it doesn't seem to go away.” [Y] frowned as the female removed the bandages from her neck, revealing the purplish red bruise on her neck. Elder Faerie gasped, “...Impossible…”

“White Lily Cookie…! A-are you hurt?” Silverbell panicked.

“I…I'm fine. It doesn't hurt.”

“He's trying to escape, isn't he? To gain back his power and his body. Red Spider Lily is still fighting to escape.” The elder faerie thought. “Millennial Tree was able to communicate with the master who created Red Spider Lily Cookie. If I could let myself sleep, perhaps I can find a way to communicate with the creator and the lord.”

╭ ⁞ ❏. facts

┊ ⁞ ❏. red spider lily can communicate with other in their dreams and leave damage on their body once they wake up

┊ ⁞ ❏. a special guest will be coming soon

➤ chapter iii.

➤ chapter v.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #crk x you #cookie run x you #cookie run x male reader #crk x male reader #white lily cookie #elder faerie cookie #silverbell cookie

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ni-kidaily · 27 days ago

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NI-KI's interview with News1

Part. 1

👤: please introduce yourself

🐥: I'm ENHYPEN Ni-ki. Our team doesn't have official positions, but I'm called a member who cares a bit more about dancing than other members. (laughs) I'm the youngest of the team, also the maknae.

👤: You're well known for your dancing skills. How did you get started with dance?

🐥: When I was little, my dad played Michael Jackson music videos for me, and that's when I first became interested in dancing. I started by copying the dances and learning on my own, but then I really wanted to learn properly, so I went to a dance academy near my house for about 10 years. I learned various dance styles there. Dance just became a part of my everyday life since then. Later, there was a choreographer I really wanted to meet in another area, so I went there, and I guess they saw potential in me. Fortunately, that choreographer was working as SHINee's performance director at that time and looking for SHINee Kids dancers. They chose me, saying I matched well with Key sunbaenim, so I was given the opportunity to perform with him.

👤: Were you also interested in K-pop back then?

🐥:Being part of Shinee Kids was the turning point. I was in 6th grade at that time. Afterward, I started looking into K-pop more, and the more I looked it up, the more I realized how high-quality the whole genre was; it really caught my attention. I felt like this was something I just had to do. So in 8th grade, I took an audition, decided right away, and came to Korea without any hesitation.

👤: That's an impressive decision for someone so young. How did your parents react?

🐥: They have been supporting my dancing since I was little. Their mindset was that as long as I didn't give up, they were okay with whatever I wanted to do. They never once opposed it.

👤: Moving to a foreign country at such a young age isn't an easy decision. Was there a specific reason you wanted to become a K-pop idol?

🐥: My personality is kind of all-or-nothing. (smiles) If I want to do something, I want to do it right away. If I don’t, I just don’t. I'm pretty extreme like that. Haha. At that time, I was so focused on this career path that it felt like if I didn’t take action then, I'd miss my chance. And when I heard that the audition program I-LAND was being prepared, I thought, “I might not get another opportunity like this.” Even though I was still inexperienced, I felt like I had to go for it.

👤: After coming to Korea, you trained for only eight months before joining I-LAND. Was there anything particularly difficult about that time?

🐥: I practiced alone when I was a trainee. The rules even said we weren't supposed to talk to other trainees, so even though it was only eight months, it was tough. Watching the other trainees motivated me and made me want to push myself, but once I got there, I had to do everything on my own, find what I lacked alone. No matter how many teachers I had, it was hard because there's a limit to how much I could learn without any breakthroughs. Once I entered I-LAND, the language barrier became an even bigger challenge. If I had been with other Korean members when I was a trainee, it would have been easier, but just going to classes wasn't enough; I struggled with communication. Jay hyung was good at Japanese, and there were other Japanese trainees too, so they helped me a lot. That was probably the hardest part. Also, I had to lead the other trainees through dance on I-LAND, and that came with a lot of pressure. There were moments where I needed to teach or guide others, but my Korean wasn't good enough back then, so communicating wasn't easy.

👤: What was it like living in Korea, away from home?

🐥: Honestly, the trainee period was the hardest. It was just a routine of commuting back and forth every day, and since I couldn’t really talk to anyone, I felt pretty lonely. But after debuting, the members started to fill the emotional space my parents used to fill, so I definitely felt less lonely than I did as a trainee. We debuted during COVID, so I didn’t see my parents for years, but now we go to Japan often, and whenever we do, my parents come to see me to make up for the lost time, so it’s fine now. At this point, I don’t feel lonely at all anymore.

👤: Your Korean is really fluent! Since you mentioned struggling with the language barrier as a trainee, how did you study Korean?

🐥:After I started as a trainee, I went to a language academy for about eight months, but, to be honest, I didn’t really feel like I was improving much. I learned the basics like reading Hangul and some grammar, but not enough to talk naturally. So, when I joined I-LAND, it was really tough at first, but that’s actually where my Korean improved a lot. We weren’t allowed to use the internet on I-LAND, so no Papago or anything like that. (smiles) I had to figure everything out on my own, so I ended up learning Korean naturally. If you’re interested in K-pop and want to connect with Korean people, I think that kind of environment is really helpful. When you’re surrounded by the language, you pick up words and expressions even without realizing it. You want to understand things fully, and if you’re genuinely interested in the language, you improve quickly.

👤: How has life in Korea been? Is there anything about Korean culture you really like?

🐥: I really enjoy Korean entertainment shows; they’re so funny! It’s a different vibe from Japanese variety shows. Japan has its own charm, but now that I can understand Korean a bit, I find Korean shows hilarious. I love Korean-style variety shows and end up watching them a lot. I also watch YouTubers like Choo Sung Hoon and laugh a lot. I think learning Korean through variety shows or song lyrics is the fastest way. And Korean food is just amazing. There are so many flavors and dishes you can only experience in Korea, especially in places like traditional markets. I’ve been living in Korea for about five years now, and honestly, it feels just as comfortable as Japan. Haha. It’s been so long since I’ve been to my hometown, so except for my hometown, Korea actually feels more like home now. That’s how I got used to it.

#enhypen #ni-ki #nishimura riki #engene #enhypen engene #enhypen ni ki #enhypen ni-ki #ni ki

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afkhowstrange · 4 months ago

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I just came up with a reason for the great magister Merlin to go to school!

It’s the same with Frieren lol. But Merlin wanted to rush things and do it in the quickest way.

Tw: bad english, lots of yap, slight Cyran/Merlin(Rose) but it’s one sided if you squint.

In my AU, the time when magic was booming is after the immortal war ended, and Merlin was busy helping people rebuild their civilization, stabilize things and eradicate scums for a few hundreds of years, she’s busy as hell.

When things were finally settled, she enrolled The Lyceum.No one at the academy took her seriously because she’s bad at learning things through books and words.

Elemental magic that can harness power from nature, which was on the rise at the moment was new to her, she was kind of against it actually because of the old teachings in her village, toying with nature is disrespectful (like- to the gods who has the right to controll it, not humans). Butttt after seing how it still works while sticking to that teachings, she gave it a pass but her brain can’t absorb the knowledge god damn it. Well at least she can use flames (the most destructive element of all 💀).

It’s really shameful how she helped building this school since the first stone was set in place and now she’s the top student from the bottom up. But thanks for her tendency to keep a low profile, only a few people (including immortal beings) ever saw Merlin’s true appearance, so she’s just this red head mage that came out of nowhere.

She got bullied for having a large amount of mana but can’t remember average spells. Even the head of The Lyceum, the only one who can help her learn didn’t know she was studying there 💀💀💀 girl was on her own.

If she can’t learn advanced magic, she’ll put it all into the basics and what she had mastered, and burn things up, the no one dies way.

She made her way into the top 100 students of the 3rd years (yes i imagine the students of The Lyceum has to go through 15 years before graduating) and met Cyran. Cyran was THE TOP STUDENT OF THE 3RD YEARS at the time, and he’s lowkey a bitch (an elegant mindful demure bitch) to Rose for the same reason she was bullied. I totally get him :,)))) to make it this high you must have skills, but with raw power alone is baffling, i’d find it weird too.

The head of The Lyceum FINALLY NOTICED HER MISERABLE ASS this time LMFAO. They screamed “MERLIN *FOREIGN UNKNOWN LANGUAGE*???” when they spot her in the- cafeteria equivalent of Lyceum(??) and proceed to grab her stupid i-don’t-need-help-that’s-cheating bullshit to their office without noticing the students surrounding her at the time.

Of course they took her in and taught her properly. Let me tell you the best way that she could learn is through sensations, being one with it, feeling it runs through her nerves and all that, if they could get her to feel it, she was able to learn it right on the spot.

Yeah they have to possess or take control over her and keep her consciousness intact to be able to succeed. That’s how she was able to learn exclusive Dura’s magic, Dura possessed her once, throwing hands once and Rose is good to go.

When the next exam (more like a tournament lol) hits, Cyran’s beloved position was given to Rose, and Rose handed his ass to him that round, using only basic spells. Of course Cyran hated her ass wdym Merlin is just this ruthless bad mannered red head raw power peasant and how dare she humiliated him yap yap that fucking mary sue yap.

He’d rather die than giving up, they competed (mostly because of Cyran, Rose just want to have a little motivation) for the next 11 years.

Rose got a hang of studying by the book eventually, combining her personal experience with the school’s teachings really helped with her study.

Eventually Cyran got something for her aside from hatred and spite as he grew older and look at his previous actions and thoughts, she wasn’t mean to him, he was mean to her first. She fought hard to be in that position as much as him. She got there with raw power, he got there with high social background.

From their 7th years and on, they have became friendly rival.

Turned out they don’t need to compete for 11 years, because Rose quit after 9 years of study because “i’ve mastered everything i need” and dip, leaving Cyran behind in the dust. It’s just a way of expressing, the Lyceum is clean, you can find jewels laying around but not dust.

And they never spoke or met for… idk, a thousand years?

Yeah that’s all :,)))) thank you for reading all this nonsense!

#afk journey #afk journey oc #rose #magister rose #afk journey merlin #afkj oc #afk cyran

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krobezgades · 7 months ago

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BANJO

W: timeskip 50 years after the events of Act 3 of Arcane's season 2; OC with no name, no use of Y/N, english is not my first language, I apologize if there are any mistakes or inaccuracies in the text. It’s kind of songfic actually, so if you want you can check on song «Мне было бы легче петь — Аквариум» and its lyrics.

No matter how fiercely the stone is wounded, it bears no grudge and harbors no plans for revenge over its chipped side. It just lies awkwardly in place, cracked at its most visible point, steadfastly enduring the gazes of passersby. Ten years will pass, and moss will creep up its summit, completely enveloping its cold, scarred flesh. Then, wrapped in a fluffy green cocoon, it will conceal from everyone the very existence of that chip. It will know of it alone, quietly coexisting with the thought of its small imperfection. An enchanting imperfection.

The reborned city will cherish its scars from a distant past as if they were its greatest treasures. I have spent enough time here to confidently call them trophies.

I remember every crack in this road; every pattern of peeling paint on the corners of buildings that aspire to perfection in their height and flawless geometry. Echoes of a past that roared through this street half a century ago still hide within the minor imperfections of seemingly repaired walls. I vividly recall how this alley was cleared of fallen concrete blocks from the tower. I know well that at the intersection of two houses, in the very corner, lies a modest meter of granite cobblestones that cracked on that very day and was left unreplaced due to the inaccessibility of that nook. The new road looks splendid. These streets live their lives, their bright present, yet unobtrusively remind us of their past.

A musician by the entrance of a small shop is as old as the world itself. He was old when we were young, and he has played the same songs all his life. Their tender melodies have become part of my own consciousness; they cling to my mind so that I hear this music even on days when the old man with the weathered banjo does not come out to play. Strolling down this street always feels serene, almost perfect.

This path, starting from my own doorstep and ending at the gates of the Academy, I could traverse with my eyes closed, never stumbling once. This road is the least of what one can learn over more than fifty years of relentless repetition. Whether it rains or shines makes no difference, I will never lose my way here. It seems that even if all the cobblestones were shattered to pieces, I would still be able to walk blindfolded. All these paths have been explored back and forth, and the only thing that changes here each day is the faces of people. Countless happy and sorrowful, young and old, in love and lonely. Some faces I do not recognize, but many — mostly those of children — seem very familiar to me. I knew their parents as children when we were young. These beautifully diverse people! I look at them with the same thoughts.

Of all the fears available to them, which seems the most dreadful? A girl bitten by a stray dog now fears dogs. A heartbroken lover, since being left behind, will fear trusting others again. Meanwhile, the greatest fear of all is missing something. Every crack in this road. The pattern of peeling paint on building corners. The nagging thought gnawing at the weary mind of a dear one. Failing to notice it once can suddenly reveal that this thought can no longer be extracted from someone else’s head. Indeed, that head has become entirely foreign; it is the very head you manage to memorize along with every strand falling onto the pillow in a shared bed. The face becomes unfamiliar too. The gaze changes. As it reaches a fever pitch, that insistent thought hits its limit and becomes the sole source of movement. And how can one abandon it when moving has become so arduous?

Life goes on. The city has healed and forgiven all its offenders. It has not reproached anyone for its sorrow and has grown anew upon its own ruins. How disheartening it is that people cannot do the same.

My body has renewed itself thousands of times since it all happened, yet with each new gray hair and thread of wrinkle, I feel as though the past refuses to let me go.

Thousands of nights help to coexist with the past, but they do not allow for complete reconciliation. My mind was not mathematically inclined, and even after all these years, I am unable to approach the solution to the mysterious formula. The formula according to which that intrusive thought should have resolved itself in someone else's head. Perhaps it all comes down to the nature of the mind.

I turn around at the quiet thud almost automatically, no matter where in the city it echoes. An old man, bent under the weight of years, walks alongside me. Unable to discern the sound of his footsteps, I distinctly hear the rhythmic tapping of the metal tip of his cane.

The most understandable and sweet sound in the world.

Intermingling with the soft, creaky voice of a musician and his battered banjo, this thud itches somewhere deep in my chest. It is a melody from a long-gone past when both we and this city were still young. And if the city can still proudly stretch its countless concrete backs into a stately posture, I can no longer straighten my old shoulders. Side by side with this giant, we have been stretching in different directions over the years: the city upwards, and I towards the ground. We know each other better than anyone else. I greet every crack in this road and every pattern of peeling paint on the corners of buildings; and in return, the city greets me with a symphony of the most familiar sounds. It knows me well.

The shortest route to the Academy lies through the old market. Long ago, it was built perfectly: bright stalls, resembling one another and always impeccably clean, stood in neat rows without any garish variety. Many years ago, this city would not have tolerated excessive diversity even in its trading rows, and now there is a delightful fair every day. Small imperfections have given this place a special charm, visible in the colorful flags on now so different stalls and the great variety of goods from two cities. It is no longer necessary to display products in straight lines. It is not essential to adhere to the strict color palette of the city. And it is these inaccuracies that have infused the place with life.

As I walk along the very edge of the fair, not diving into the crowd, I habitually stop next to a stall where bags of nuts are displayed at face level. I lower my dry palm into the pistachios. I pick one up. Bringing it closer to my face, I squint. With age, my vision has become quite cloudy. This can be reconciled with when you know the city by heart, but some things still deserve to be examined thoroughly for the tenth or even hundredth time.

In a crack of the pale shell, a green side of an aromatic kernel has appeared. Without this crack, this little charming imperfection, would the bright nut be visible?

I still do not understand how I failed to notice it at first glance. Sometimes it seems that time has lost its count; my time is also nearing its end, and yet I cannot grasp so many things. When you are very young, it feels as if just a little longer and all the complexities of the world will become clear, that this understanding will inevitably come with age and experience. And here I am, already over seventy, still as bewildered as I was at twenty. And the morning is just as it was at twenty.

Crossing the gates of the Academy for the thousandth time, I do not hurry to enter the building. Not far from the entrance, a pedestal with tall, proud statues has recently emerged. I stand before them feeling quite small and catch myself thinking that now I truly feel tiny.

— Beautiful, isn’t it?. — A voice sounds behind me, and I don’t need to turn around. The hoarse yet lively voice brings me back to my senses. I merely shrug. — You don’t like it?

— You know better how monuments should look, Ekko. .

— Everyone decides for themselves what the monument should look like. — He concludes, standing very close and politely offering his elbow. — Really, Miss Dean, what don’t you like? Indeed, a cane and stoop are not the best epithets for a statue; that’s why they weren’t included.

I shrug again. He is the only person who speaks to me about these things as if nothing has happened. And he is the only one I am grateful to for it.

— It’s not about the cane.

— Then what is it?

The empty gaze of the statue looks into the distance, at the rooftops of the city. I don’t remember exactly, but his gaze must have looked the same way.

I never think about it at all. Never. I am deeply concerned only with the details of this city. Why should I remember anything else? And yet…

— Not a single mole on its face. There should be two, actually.

Ekko is silent, then he pats me on the shoulder. If I had retained my youthful boldness, I would lament this. He used to pat me on the shoulder with a lively cheer, as if teasing; now these comforting gestures do not touch me.

— Forgive the sculptors their little inaccuracy.

The city forgives everything.

— Beautiful work. The Academy was missing something monumental. Besides the huge building, there should have been something to make this place breathe.

Ekko leaves. He is not interested in long, candid conversations where one must piece together some deeper meaning bit by bit. He fears touching on certain things not so much out of a desire not to offend but out of fear of stirring something in his own soul.

Meanwhile, reminders are everywhere. The city keeps its imperfections just for people like him. Every crack in the road. Every pattern of peeling paint on the corners of buildings.

The city tries to drive me into the Academy’s lecture hall with the booming sound of a bell, promising the start of classes. This ringing hasn’t changed for what seems like hundreds of years. It rang before us, rang when we were young, rings now, and will ring for many more years to come. This metal is not afraid of death or oblivion.

Tearing my gaze from the statue, I turn it back to the road that has been our path for so many years and now lies only before me.

The same melody still plays on. A musician by the entrance of a small shop is as old as the world itself. He was old when we were young, and he has played the same songs all his life. Their tender melodies have become part of my own consciousness; they cling to my mind so that I hear this music even on days when the old man with the weathered banjo does not come out to play. Strolling down this street always feels serene, almost perfect. It just lacks one small imperfection: the quiet tapping of a cane.

While the soft voice of the banjo hums in my mind, my legs lead me into the lecture hall. Hundreds of young faces, whose joys and sorrows this city will witness more than once, greet me with calm anticipation.

“Good morning, Dean…,” “Dear Dean…, I’d like to consult you about my new project…,” “Dean…, what if…»

Hundreds of voices hush as my bent silhouette stands at the lectern.

— May I have your attention. The materials for today’s lecture are not included in the late edition of the history manual. Everything you hear from now on will not be on the exam, so if you are not paying attention to the topic, there will be no consequences.

The lights in the lecture hall dim. A student sets up the projector, and with a gentle press on the metal lever behind me, a pale portrait blooms to life. With two beautiful moles on its face.

— Write down the topic.

“The Final Glorious Evolution.”

#arcane #arcane season 2 #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane fic #arcane piltover

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callme-naomi · 5 months ago

Text

Shades of Secrecy

A spy AU Nanami Kento x reader story

Summary: It had been your lifelong dream to become a spy - the secret keeper of the country. When you got the acceptance call, life had never felt more beautiful before. Under many shades, many stories, many aliases, you spent your dream life. Though you may have more secrets than anyone else, life yet had one more beautiful surprise to give you.

Word count: 9.3K words

naomi's notes: not based on canon events, alternate universe, nobody is a sorcerer

It was the moment of your dreams when you stepped off the car that brought you to your reporting headquarters. It was still hard to believe that your childhood dream of being a spy and serving your country has become reality. Saying you had worked hard was a grand understatement, as since your childhood you had studied hard, pressing yourself beyond your limits to get the good, straight-As, to qualify as a spy.

Ever since you had seen a spy movie in your early childhood, and read about them, your obsession had only grown like a fire in the forest, as you began training and exercising, limiting your voice, and joining academies for acrobatics and weapon-wielding, spending your holidays learning survival or foreign languages, going to lengths to steer clear from a problematic medical and criminal record, and even choosing degrees relevant to that. So it was only natural, with all this effort, that you should become a spy.

You had cleared all tests with flying colours, and your name was one of the few qualifying candidates.

The first few weeks went quite peacefully, you and the new recruits having gotten no mission, which was unusual seeing the state of unrest in your country. The world was on the verge of another grand-scale war, your country included, and the governments had mobilized their military, foreign ministry and intelligence agencies. The military was training and cooking up gadgets in case of war erupting, the foreign ministries were searching for allies and the agencies were diligently collecting all the secrets, plans and relevant data they can.

Given your inexperience in battle but aptitude with documentation, you had been assigned to spending your days with paperwork and intelligence assembly. You were beginning to get bored, and it wasn’t until the second month of your recruitment that you finally were summoned alongside a colleague, Ashley Greenwood, to a mission.

Evidently, a spy in the other country was stuck, their cover having gotten blown, and the task was to retrieve the data that the spy was supposed to be bringing, but was now in custody of the jailer. You were to go under cover as an official from the country, and should only show yourselves when need be, since the country’s government has clearly renounced from taking any responsibility of their spies. What’s more, is that if you fail, you are on your own, since there are no more spies to spare.

The mission was expected to be a failure, seeing all higher-ranking spies were previously occupied, and the younger ones were given the task. But with your aptitude, and Ashley’s agility, you managed to surprise the authorities by bringing home the data and the spy.

Finally recognizing your potential, the authorities listed your and Ashley’s name as ‘starred’, evidently meaning you might be chosen later for even more missions.

In the spy agency hierarchy, the highest grade was Grade One, and all the rookies started at Grade Six. You and Ashley were put at Grade Five, with probation. Should you fail the next mission, whenever given, you’ll be sent back to Grade Six. If you make it back alive.

You two were lounging in the intelligence room one day, your days again dull in the absence of a new mission, when a knock on the door announced the arrival of a boy, asking for ‘Miss L/N.’

“The intelligence officer is asking for you.”

It turns out that they finally found a mission for you, and you were to be assisting another spy.

It made you exhilarated and nervous simultaneously to know you’ll be accompanying a Grade One. None other than Kento Nanami.

A few years your senior, Kento Nanami was nothing short of a prodigy around your workplace. The only spy to have made it to Grade One without going through Grades Three and Two – direct jump to One – no mission he took ever failed. His calm and collected demeanor was famous throughout the area, with people afraid to approach him due to his ‘gruff’ nature. Master of disguises and the genius behind several successful operations, it was no wonder he was that popular. What’s more, he has already been classified as the very few “reliable under torture” category of spies.

Amongst the spies you had deeply studied, he was one of them, and his profile had intrigued you the most. So while it was your extreme joy to be paired with your ideal, it terrified you of what would happen should you fail to meet his expectations.

Your handler told you to meet your newest partner at the reception three hours later, where he will fill you in on the mission.

At the time you were instructed, you head towards the reception lounge, your mind a nervous wreck and you wringing your fingers as you think of the best method to introduce yourself.

You push the glass doors, seeing the receptionist sit behind the allotted desk, with her crew. The moment you step in the doors, a deep voice emerged, “You’re on time.”

You whirl around, while every other person saluted, to see a tall, blonde-haired young man, his face already showing the brutalities of life he has had to suffer. A tan-coloured suit on his body, perfection from his shoes’ shine to the angle at which his hair was styled, gave you the impression of a no-nonsense person. Fixing the watch on his wrist, he raised his head to look at you, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of green glasses.

One of his eyes was also hidden behind an eyepatch, while the same half of his face looked like it was burnt brutally. Yet, instead of making you fear him, it only gave you the impression that he was a fighter by nature.

As he walked to meet you, you move forward, and bend down as custom. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He bent down too. “Likewise.”

The moment you two straightened, he extended a formal hand. “Kento Nanami.”

“Y/N L/N, sir. I am assigned to you.”

“That I am aware of. I suppose you have not been yet briefed?”

As you shake your head no, he gestured towards a pair of sofas nearby, and while you two sit, the servants rushing to place a glass of water and newspaper, he explained the mission.

With the chances of war escalating, an agent who was infiltrating the defence ministry of your greatest enemy, had finally found some data regarding their concrete plans to attack. Someone had gotten suspicious about the aforementioned spy, and had reported her to the higher-ups, initiating an investigation and posing a threat for her life. Before it escalated into something critically dangerous, you two were tasked to go undercover as doctors coming to visit a high-level patient, the spy in question, and to collect the data.

The way he spoke showed the authority he wielded and the respect his manner demanded, and he had definitely surprised you.

All the while he talked, explaining things brick by brick, gently answering your questions, and even though his entire conversation was highly formal, punctuated without a single smile, not even a hint of harshness or superiority emanated from his words. While you listened, focused, all you could think about was how wrong people were and how frightened they had you by drilling inside you a fear of Kento Nanami.

“Seeing you have no more questions, I’ll wrap it up. Please be here tomorrow, prepared, by afternoon.” As he stood up to take his leave, you followed suit. “I don’t have any other rules, seeing the guidebook for the agency has you covered, except one. Our mission is one, and I have my priorities sorted out. Are you familiar with rule 31?”

“Yes, sir,” you say, " 'should a spy be in any dire situation jeopardizing the mission’s success, the comrades in question are to leave him behind'".

"Precisely. So you are aware, that while I will be assisting you, should such an unfortunate event happen, I will have no other choice. Clear?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Before he left out the doors, he turned one more time. “Since we’re partners, and I’m not your professor, you need not refer to me as ‘sir’.”

“Noted. But what would you like to be referred to with? Your surname?”

“You are aware of the fake identities assigned to us, so you refer to me with that and I will do the same for you.”

You nod and follow him as he walks speedily ahead.

********

That mission went a success.

Back in three weeks, you and Nanami retrieved the data required.

While the way he moulded into disguises seamlessly, his calm and cool demeanour even when their cover was nearly blown, and the way he always had a plan B up his sleeve impressed you, he never once pointed out the blunders you made harshly. Instead, he explained what could have gone wrong and shown the better way you could have opted for.

All throughout the journey, he didn’t say anything unless required. All that came out of him was medical terms until and unless he was in a place where he was sure nobody would hear him.

You two complemented each other’s skill sets. He excelled in secrecy, strategy and fighting while you made up for it with your fluency in foreign languages and agility when needed to fight.

At the end of your journey, while you two were seated in the car intended to drive you back to headquarters, you tell him, “thank you, sir.”

“For precisely what?”

“For guiding me. I hope we’ll work again in the future.”

“That was my duty. Looking forward to more opportunities with you.”

As you stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the air of the place you called home after three months, his voice halted you again.

“L/N, keep your good work up. We need people like you.”

Those words swelled your chest beyond imagination with joy.

********

Over the next few months, you got more missions, some solo and others paired with other spies. But you never got paired with Nanami again.

The global war had begun a month ago, with the launch of a nuclear weapon on a European nation, and since your country was one of the superpowers and leading nations, it had expectations to fulfil, so all of you were heavily occupied. The higher-ups were on the run for more intelligence while the lower graders were assigned with creating reports and keeping a lookout for anything on the radar.

You had begun to become habitual of nightly routines, reducing your sleep schedule from eight hours a day to three or two hours, spending all day and all night on the computer, giving orders and sending messages to the spies on duty. You didn’t mind, since it gave you a chance to meet Nanami often, him knocking on your office door to give you a list of reports to send him or another pile of data to have classified and saved in the records.

Seeing your efficiency with computers, you were constantly on the run to work for Grade Ones and Twos, therefore giving more chances of working beside Nanami. Often, it would be the two of you in the building, working late at night, one’s computer’s keyboard typing matching the other’s. Though you wished for a chance to get to know the reserved spy even more.

Occasionally, you were given the nightly shift to guard the building as well. It was late one night when you were busy on your computer, the night guard being you, and you were alone since you had persuaded Ashley to go and have some rest. Truth was, you liked the secrecy and personal space the night gave you.

The slight swing of the door, its shrill sound squeaking, made you jump to your feet. Your thundering heartbeat slowed when you see Nanami’s face peeking through the door.

“Pardon my intrusion. I had supposed someone had forgotten to turn the lights off.”

“No, sir, don't apologize. Would you like to come in?”

With a nod, he pushed the door even wider and came inside. His suit coat off, he was wearing a blue dress shirt and tan-coloured slacks, a coffee cup in his hand, hair still as perfect as if he weren’t going to bed anytime soon.

“May I ask what you’re doing? I wasn’t expecting to see anyone at this time of the night.”

“It’s my guard duty. And anyways I was wrapping up the reading of some reports.” Your eyes darted from the screen to his face as you answered.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable? It must be hard sitting on a chair for hours, I imagine.”

“Why, of course, thank you for asking. Though,” you replied, your fingers dancing on the keyboard, “I am fine. May I ask what are you doing at this late hour?”

“I happen to like the library.”

You look up, a smile spreading. “The library?”

He nodded, and seeing he was still standing, you immediately draw a chair facing you. “Excuse my manners. Please be seated.”

“Thank you.”

Still formal as ever.

Now that he was seated, in your lamp’s light, you see the book he’s holding. A history one.

“You’re fond of history too?” You squeal excitedly, only to blush and realize your outspokenness the moment he met your gaze, eyebrow raised.

“Of course. I assume you too, with your answers in the entry tests?”

You halt. “Did you check my tests?”

“Not grade them, rather I reviewed them.” He causally said, eyes not leaving his book. “What languages are you fluent in?”

“Russian, Japanese, English, French, Spanish. Currently learning German.”

His eyebrows were raised, as if highly impressed. “Well done. Je peux aussi parler quatre langues, même si vous m'étonnez.”

(translation: I can also speak four languages, though you surprise me.)

You stare at him. “Pouvez-vous aussi parler français?”

(translation: can you also speak French?)

He nodded, while sipping his coffee, until he looked at his watch. “It’s past midnight, already. Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

“I…actually come from another city. So I stay either here or at Ashley’s.”

“I see. Might I stay here tonight?”

“Why of course.”

It was you and him, his fingers sliding over the smooth pages of his book while the only noise interrupting the sacred silence was your keyboard. You, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, break it. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, since our mission. What are your comments regarding my skills? Where is ground for improvement?”

“You are competent enough. However, what you can work on is your strategizing. Rushing head-on isn’t always the answer, and your life isn’t that worthless to be thrown away. Moreover, you need to learn completely immersing yourself in the role you’re assigned.”

“Do you think you could teach me?” You blurt out, eagerness in your tone, and he rubbed his chin.

“I may not be the best person for that-”

“If I may, I would like you to teach me. You’re my idol.” Even you were surprised with your boldness.

He looked at you with a hint of surprise. “Very well. Though you flatter me, I’ll teach you, but please forgive me for I cannot manage my time for now. I’ll inform you when I shall be able to do so.”

You excitedly nod.

“We will get replaced someday, and we need to ensure our successors are competent. Keep challenging yourself. Extend your boundaries. There’s no limit to the heights you’ll reach.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“Of course. What you’ve chosen is not for the faint of heart. And when you have, fulfil the responsibility handed to you.”

You smile to yourself and bend your head to your work again. “How long have you been working here?”

“First tell me, tea or coffee?”

“Huh?” You ask, bewildered, up at him to see another cup in his hand. “Coffee, I guess.”

He passed the steaming cup to you, while he answered, “I have actually lost count. I believe five or six years.”

“Have you ever grown tired of your job?”

“Not yet. I don’t think I ever will.”

While you hum serenely, you bomb another question, “sorry to keep interrupting you, but how often can you get a promotion?”

“Don’t apologize for asking. And, it depends on your performance.”

“Then you must have been extraordinary.”

“I wouldn’t think of myself like that. It was pure luck.”

“Don’t do this injustice to yourself. And on another note, could you guide me to the library someday?”

“Why of course.”

Though it was your voice that was more dominant, you spent the night talking to him. Though he had been reserved the entire mission, he actually turned out to be fairly sociable, and every word of his was full of wisdom. It was only until your eyes grew tired from staring at a screen that you stood to go to your room, and he stood to go to his.

That night will always be your favourite.

*******

The next afternoon you were immediately called to the headquarters for an urgent mission.

You, and a group of spies were to escort the Premier, the ruler of your country, to a safe house in an underground city, seeing he was the leader of one of the most active countries in the Global War, and he was facing death threats. Moreover, the Premier happened to know exactly where all the country’s newest technology and nuclear weapons were being made, not to forget all battle plans and strategic sites and a list of things you forgot, but to summarize, if he’s captured or killed, it’s game over for all of you.

It was a group of you, Ashley, three boys, and two senior grade one spies. Marlene Attwood, and Kento Nanami.

Upon basic introductions by Marlene, you got to know the names. Stanford was an expert in hacking and overriding computer systems, Williams was a sharpshooter and Kiersten, having served prior in the navy, knew his way around martial arts. Each of you were only told your aliases, so you were introduced by ‘Rose’.

On your way back from securing the premier, Nanami addressed all of you.

“You all have been entrusted with one of the greatest secrets a nation can hold. And while the Premier is facing danger for his life, so do all of us. Keep your head low, your identity covered, and should you be caught, spare no time in revealing your location to us. Got it?”

“Sir, upon capture, our phones are taken. What else should we use to contact?” A boy asked, hand raised.

“Use your watches,” Marlene said, pointing to the watches she gave you at the beginning of the mission. “Until they find out you have one, you can reveal your location through this.”

You all nod, satisfied. Though, this squad was one of the best performers. Who could get caught that easily?

You had no clue it would be you.

That night, Ashley had gone on another mission, so you were alone in the room. You, deep in sleep, opened your eyes to the noise of the window breaking, and before you could retaliate, your nose was wet with the liquid that took away your consciousness.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting on a wooden chair, all alone, in a dingy room, with your hands behind your back and a chain in your feet.

“Where am I?”

Slurred words escaped your mouth, and immediately a bolt of light fell on your face. As you squinted, a filthy hand came up under your chin.

“It’s her. One of those.”

“Where…am…I?” you demanded, more confidently this time, jerking your chin out of reach, your nose picking up the smell of something damp and rotting. You scanned the room, dark, with only a light bulb to actually illuminate the room, and towers of wooden crates lining the walls. No windows or ventilators could be found. Damn it.

“Oh, she’s got guts.” The only man in a suit looks into your eyes, a devilish smile playing on his face while a cigarette danced between his teeth. “I’ll cut straight to the chase. We captured you for information we need.”

You immediately began to try and twist your finger such to access the watch that was hidden beneath your sleeve.

Except it wasn’t there.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, where are my manners? You may call me Boss Royce. And these,” he pointed towards the ten people that flocked him, “are my goons.”

Apparently they couldn’t be spies. Not only do they not look like one, spies generally do not give their name away that easily. And seeing the haphazard room, it was no base.

Two cases. One, they’re highly inexperienced spies. Or two, they’re a gang of criminals who are doing the dirty work for someone else.

“We know you know where he is. Where’s the Premier?”

You stay silent, your eyes scanning across to find your only means of contact, before mumbling, “I don’t know. I’m a teacher.”

“I expected such. Look, we want this war to end, and it can’t happen unless you tell us where he is.”

“I have no idea. I told you.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I hate that it came to this.”

Your attempts to find your tool are halted with a loud slap to your face, and you spit out blood, coughing. He definitely broke your jaw.

“I don’t have time, and neither do you. Answer me!”

“What makes you think I know?” You reply, another slap coming to your face from one of the ten cronies filling the filthy room, all the while your mind focused on where your watch could be.

“Throw her in the cell. A few days of hunger should help. She looks new, so this should be torture enough.”

“Wait.” you say, your voice commandeering. “At least tell me where I am.”

“So you can contact them?” Royce, to your silent horror, brandished your watch. “All you need to know is that you’re not in your country. You gave me a good idea, though.”

You watch as they ring your location. “What are you doing?” his henchman yelled. “They’ll find us!”

“There are two possible outcomes. One, they ignore our reveal and they leave her for dead, as per custom, which gives us plenty of time to drive information. Two, they pick up and they come here. We know this city better than them, and with the government’s backing, we can overtake them. Nobody told us to bring them alive, we’re only asked for the data.”

“Boss, I have another idea. Permission to speak freely?” a young woman spoke, throwing her blonde sheet of hair back.

“Spit it out.”

“They are never going to tell us the Premier’s location. Nor are they going to bargain for her with words only.” She kicks your back. “So what if one of us stays here, waits for them to come, and if they don’t answer, explode this place to blazes? It’s not that we need this place anyways.”

“What are the rest of us going to do?”

“Take her to our capital. In this way, if they give us what we want, we still win. Ad if they resist, well, a few deaths ain’t gonna hurt no one.”

Them being ready to blow up their own base is proof they’re gangsters. No spy would be ready to demolish their base so quickly.

“Maybe if it will be their life on the line, she’ll behave.” A henchman agreed with the blonde-haired woman, all the while you kept your gasp inside and your booming heartbeat not making things easy for you. Not only do you have to protect the secret you’re entrusted with, you also have to make it out before your comrades get in trouble.

“And what if they survive? And she still doesn’t spit it out?” the boss asked interested.

“Then we’ll exchange. A life for a life. Then we’ll know,” she smiled nastily at you, “how valuable you are to them.”

You gritted your teeth while the female came to open your ropes to let you be taken. “You’ll be the one bound to the chair soon.”

“We’ll see about that, darling.” And with that, you were dragged by your arms to a cell.

*****

It had become a routine for you. Wake up in the cramped, desolate cell with no windows to let light in, no clue of day or night, and nobody to talk to, be served a glass of water for breakfast and then the doors open, for men to come in and tie your hands, then beat you as they please while they try to drive out the information you buried in your chest. You, ever the rebel nature, spat your blood onto them, or jeered at their faces when you would spew out anything but what they asked.

With every drop of blood, your hope to be saved begins to fade, since you knew they were very unlikely to come fetch you for the data only.

Should you be in any dire situation jeopardizing the mission’s success, I will have no choice but to leave you. Have I made myself clear?

You can’t blame him. That’s the rule of the workplace.

You try to find anyway to escape, however, with your only method of contact missing in a foreign country, and the place you’re held in being highly supervised from outside, you had no choice but to wait for an opening that would never come.

Day by day, your face swells, your fingers are broken, your skin marred with slashes and crusted with blood, your head bleeding with the blows it suffered, yet you kept up a fight. If you die, you want them to remember you as one of the fighter spirits, and one of the most stubborn spies they’ve ever met. You want them to remember you as someone loyal to your country.

But nothing compared to the torture of the electrocution. The way your body froze in terror when they bound you to the chair was nothing like you ever imagined, and when the current snaked through you, you had no control over your jerking, spasming body, thrashing in the chair’s grip, your involuntary screams echoing through. The agony and the burning sensations exploding throughout your body after the sessions rendered you senseless, but while you fought to maintain your sanity, your entire body begging you to have mercy on yourself, you still kept your mouth shut.

Your suspicions about their inexperience were increased tenfold when you saw them using car batteries and tasers for torture. And it sickened you to the throat when their gleeful laughter mingled with your painful groans, the white-lit room giving you no hope of breakout.

It also did not help that sitting handcuffed against the stony walls and sitting for hours on end, tied, to a wooden, skeletal chair messed up your posture, so that when you stood, cramps would shoot across your body. Occasionally, the boss decided you’ve done a bad job and would subject you to stand on one leg, or sit in squats, a chain limiting your movements, until he wished to relieve you of this.

It was on the twentieth day or so, since you had lost count of the rising sun and the setting stars, only the grey dingy walls and spatters of blood from the other captives being your scenery, when you heard two people outside the cell. You bolt upright, eyes alert, when you see the two men who chained you earlier come with more chains.

“Get up, vermin.”

You, in your mood, land a kick on one, but are too slow to bring your foot down as the other topples your leg on the ground.

“We’re leaving. Don’t make us leave you for dead.”

With bored eyes, one swollen, you ask, “where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” one leered. “We’re goin’ to the capital, darlin’.”

“If you will tell us what you know, your friends won’t die.”

“But if they come for you in the first place.” The one tying your hands shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are your skulls as thick as they look? I don’t know anything. And I have nothing to tell you idiots.” You growl.

“Easy, pretty. Well, not so anymore. Maddie ‘ere will blow up this place, and take them down too. Your choice, them or you.”

While they walked a chained you down the halls, your mind was whizzing.

If you spew it out, they will live. But you might not. However, if you do, you won’t be able to face them anymore, as a traitor.

If you stay shut, they might die. But only if they take the bait.

Both have a fifty percent success chance.

What would Nanami do?

You remembered his record of a successful streak, and his face, and you knew he might have had to make this choice once. Him, or the others.

You made your choice. You decided to rely on your squad’s genius and survival skills, and left it to fate. You will not be a traitor.

And when you felt yourself be pulled on board a plane, taking you at least a continent away from your homeland, you prayed for their safety and for yourself, to be made stronger and more resilient.

Upon reaching the capital, your eyes were blindfolded while you were led to another warehouse. You felt insulted as you heard Boss Royce say, “she’s all yours, Todd,” as if you were something to be sold. “You know what to do.”

“Oh absolutely,” a bearded giant rumbled, a hat on his head and a mask covering his face, as he assessed you like a kid assesses a cousin he meets for the first time.

For starters, they continued the tradition of not letting you fall asleep. While Royce’s cronies let you doze off for a minute or two, your eyes here would be immediately snapped open by metal pots and pans banged near your ears, shaking you awake, or keeping you in a room illuminated with dazzling white light, until it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open with exhaustion.

Even though you had been habitual of staying awake for nights at length, the constant hunger and painful conditions began chipping at your stamina.

The goons here seemed to not have a heart, for with gleeful expressions on their faces like a kid getting a brand new toy, they subjected you to electrocutions, waterboarding, and ruthless beating, them savouring your groans of pain while they hit your body to leave a long lasting impact. However, the worst they had done to you by far was pulling off your nails.

It felt like months had passed since you had left the previous city, and while it made you doubt your rate of survival, it gave you hope that they have not yet been captured.

One day, while Todd’s men peel off your nails, slowly and deliberately, deaf to the sounds of your screams shaking the very room, Todd, sitting amused in his armchair, turns to hear a henchman run to him and whisper something.

He stood up and cracked his knuckles. “Continue interrogation. I’ll be right back.”

As his steps faded, your screams increased, with the drop of nails and blood.

As a spy, you had been trained to enhance your senses, and learn to pick up surrounding’s stimuli, especially hearing. You automatically feel your ears tune to the sound of an explosion occurring outside, and a ruckus exploding with men yelling and bullets raining.

You thought it was only your hallucination, but the men left with you turned around towards the door.

What could have had happened?

The man closest to you, Hill, jerked his head towards the door, and two of them ran to get more information. You were grateful for this distraction in which you could borrow some time to gather your senses.

Your ears continuously picked up gunshots, screams, calls of names, and doors being – blasted? – as crates came raining down with the force by which the building had begun shaking.

Definitely a fight out there. And firearms involved.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart soar with the surge of hope.

Five minutes later, you heard the footsteps come in again, but punctuated with a few yells. With the two boys sent earlier still absent, the remnant four men torturing you stood up as if deciding to investigate for themselves, when the room’s door opened and Todd came in again, his signature hat covering his face. Your heart sank when you saw three men follow him.

You had also been taught to listen and observe people’s footsteps. And it was that skill with which you recognized, that those footsteps weren’t of your captor’s.

Once he paused near you, he spoke, through a cloth, “hand me your gun.”

Within seconds, his wish was fulfilled, and your breath halted, seeing it might be your last. You close your eyes, lips trembling as the cold metal of the gun touched your temple.

“Wait, wait, wait, sir, she’s supposed to stay alive!” Hill yelled, shocked. “What are you doing?”

“Who said so?” Todd’s voice was smug. “If she isn’t talking anymore, it’s better to kill her.”

“It’s from the Army General, remember? He gave us her location. And Royce said she knows everything.”

“Who are we to trust Royce, anyway?” one of the newcomers growled. “How did he know about her?”

“How am I supposed to know that? All we were told is that she’s not to be killed on the General’s orders.”

“Hmm..” Todd let out an amused noise. “Untie her.”

Even you whirled around in surprise, as Hill’s and his comrades’ mouths hung open in surprise.

“What?”

“Untie her, or I’m killing her here.”

“Boss, what’s gotten into you? She hasn’t spilled-”

Your entire body jolted when the gun on your temple jerked and let out a deafening crack. However, the bullet wasn’t inside you.

It was inside Hill, his heart’s place steaming and blood oozing.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not habitual of repeating my orders.”

Another volley of bullets rained from Todd’s three men, killing all henchmen near you. You slowly turned your head to see what Todd would do with you now, but you could cry with relief when the one whom everyone thought to be Todd tipped his hat off to be a Grade One you knew. As he called the rest of your squad in through the gates, Ashley threw off her mask and came darting towards you, worry and horror etched on her face as she slid next to you.

“What have they done to you?”

Her voice held venom and worry simultaneously as she untied your ropes.

“I didn’t tell them anything, I promise.” You watched as your squad jumped down from the crates.

“I know. I know you’re strong. Just hang in there.” With these words, she turned to Nanami, who had called her name. “Leave, and get the transport ready.”

When the people marched out, Ashley looped your arm around her neck and attempted to make you stand, but you stumbled, nearly taking Ashley down with you, owing to the recent electrocution.

You could hear gunshots coming from outside. Shit. They’ve got reinforcements.

“Everyone, leave no witnesses.” Nanami’s command rang out.

Ashley was about to call someone, when you tapped her knee.

“Go on, I’ll make it outside.”

“I can’t leave you like this,” she argued, but stopped when you stood again, wobbling.

“Ashley, go. Or nobody will make it alive.” You sternly say, and she nodded, running outside with her gun.

You, using a nearby discarded rifle, try to make your way out, and you are almost to the door leading you outside when a bullet grazes your stomach. You turn to fire, but Nanami beats you to it.

You battle your newest wave of dizziness, but fail miserably as, disregarding Nanami’s calls of your name, your knees buckle and you fall. You struggle to get up as he runs to you, but you flail against the darkness surrounding you, the hunger, exhaustion and dizziness of it all finally catching up to you.

You feel your body be picked up, and Nanami’s voice call out, his eyes trained on Attwood, Williams, and Kiersten, "Take your weapons and go out. Clear our path. Blow up this place, if you must.”

“Yes sir!”

You try to comprehend what the hell was going on.

“Don’t die on me now, Y/N,” were the last words you heard before it all went black.

********

When you had first been taken away, the only thing you registered were the dark and hopeless skies, always ready to rain. Once you were in the capital, you could feel the winds going colder, more sinister. But when you opened your eyes, after goodness knows how long, you knew you were back home. The familiar smell of spring blossoms, and birds native to your land screaming their songs, and the beautiful sunlight pooling in.

You tried to sit up when a strong hand came on you.

“I wouldn’t advise you to sit up right now.”

Kento Nanami was sitting beside you on a chair.

“Sir!” You gasp. “Sir, I didn’t tell them a thing, I promise-”

“I know. I chose my squad carefully.” He assures you. “But that’s secondary. Tell me, how are you feeling right now?”

All the horror of the past few days rush up to you, and you can’t help but feel your eyes moisten with tears.

“I…I just…” you shake your head. How can you tell this to someone superior and experienced like him?

“Go on. I won’t mind.”

You mumbled, "never mind, it's okay."

"It's anything but okay. Tell me honestly."

It was the way he said these words, making them sound like a command and a request, that convinced you to reveal it. All your life, when you said, 'never mind', people took it as a signal to shut up, even though you longed for someone to insist to spill it out, to show they don't mind and they want to comfort you. He was the first one who did that.

“How do you have the will?”

“Of what?”

“To live to fight another day, when the scars of the last fight are still there. All that time I was there, I thought of what if I died here. We all are fighting for people who will never know we even existed. If I die, I will be under some other name, not with what my parents and friends called me. I don't want to be forgotten in some lonely city.” You never realised when the tears rolled down. “I do not regret not telling them. If given the chance, I’d do it all over again. It’s just…I don’t want to be forgotten this easily. I want to have someone who’ll wait for me and who’ll remember me for what I have done.”

Nanami watches you silently as you duck your face in your hands and weep.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” You choke out. “It’s my first experience doing this, and I don’t even know why I’m feeling like this. I’ll be fine in a while.”

You stop when his hands come and pull them down to uncover your face. Your red eyes meet his glasses.

“You don’t have to pretend to be strong around me. And…I understand. Sometimes even I doubted the purpose of it all. I read somewhere that ‘A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit’. If we die, we are securing the future of many other people. They may never know our name, but they will know what we have done for them. As long as our mission succeeds, we live on. That’s what makes me fight. That people sleep peacefully because we fight at night.”

You looked up at him, a curtain in your mind parting.

“We all hold secrets. And I would like to ask you to trust us with yours too, should you feel the need. You can come to us for anything, and you can consider any of us your friend.”

You stare at him, his respect increasing hundredfold in your heart. “Thank you, sir. I owe you my life.”

“Don’t mention. It’s my duty.” He waved off.

You smile. “May I ask you something?”

“You don’t need my permission for that.”

“You once said that if a mission is in jeopardy, you’ll leave us behind. Why did you come back for me? Tell me honestly."

His eyebrows slightly raised at you throwing his words back at him.

“Firstly, you were the mission. And also, nothing is more important than a human life.”

“Then why’d you say that earlier?”

He looked at the time on the watch, and stood up. “As much as this conversation has been fruitful, I must take my leave. Get well soon, Miss L/N.” He turned around, and before opening the door, he looked over his shoulder.

“You were strong in those tough times, and that’s why we lived. Thank you.”

**********

Within a few weeks, you were back to work again.

A few days ago, Nanami had come to tell you that he was free at night and you can come round to his room for training.

Of course you took the chance.

Nights became your favourite, as whenever the both of you were free, you’d sneak off to his room to avoid any rumours, and then he’d teach you various things, such as reading maps, or methods of escape, and self-defence.

In those nights, when he would put off his glasses and would read instructions to you or teach you how to read a code or draw maps for you in the dimming lamplight with that voice of his, or would hold you against himself to teach you a particular stance, you found your heart falling harder and harder for him.

It was in the darkness of the nights that you found yourself dissolving into a friendship with him. You felt more of yourself around him, and it seemed as if you two were woven from the same cloth, how the both of you guessed what the other was thinking, and completing each other’s sentences, and something about his caring composure made you want to confide every secret of yours in him, tell every fear of yours to him. And whenever he told you to tell him honestly, that was the one command you always followed.

The way he gave you his time, and listened attentively to you, and dispelled your fears with his comforting words, and gave his all to teach you, the way he showed he cared was all you could ever ask for.

It was one such night, when you had spent far too long looking at yourself in a mirror.

Even after weeks of healing, your face was still marred with slashes and scars, and your body was like a razed battlefield. You felt ashamed of yourself, feeling the before-you glaring at the now-you, the clear, smooth skin replaced with evidence of weakness. For all your life as a spy, you were a human. You were meant to marry someone someday. How can you expect anyone to love you, heck even admire you, when your face is a patchwork of blood and skin?

The fact that you were weak, that you were inexperienced, was evident. Why else would you let them hurt you like this? Why had no other spy gotten their faces ruined with years of service while you got destroyed within a year? You don’t deserve to serve alongside them.

And when you remember your moments of crumbling resolve…your belief about you being undeserving steels.

It hurt you to think you were not as strong as you believed you were. But in a life full of lies, that’s a truth you must embrace.

The shame of those scars occupied your brain, eating away at your soul like a termite at wood, and it was what you blurted out to Nanami, one night during training.

“L/N, have you done something to your face?”

You immediately pause, your face going red under the layers and layers of concealer you applied. Under his scrutinizing gaze, you could feel your scars reveal themselves.

“Nothing.”

“You’re trying to hide something, aren’t you? Tell me honestly.”

You stay silent, staring at your hands, until his hand falls on yours. “I thought I told you that I can be trusted. Tell me.”

“What makes you stronger? I mean, strong enough to brave anything.”

“Everyone has a motive to work for. Do you think you’re weak?”

You nod. “I don’t feel worthy of being here anymore, serving alongside people much experienced and stronger than I am.” You look at your battered hands, and are sure your face tells a worse story. “These marks show that I failed to protect myself. Out of all seven of us, only I emerged like this, a quilt of blood and scars. How can anyone trust me, or believe me when I say, that I protect their country’s secrets? When anyone looks at me, all they will think is that I’m a failure. That my resolve to fight and my will to live was so frail and fragile that I surrendered myself to any way they wish. I’m so weak that I let this happen to me.”

You startle when his thumbs graze your cheek, as if trying to remove the layers.

“The thing that makes me strong, is the fact that if I bleed, someone else gets to live.” He said quietly. “And the hope that someone would be proud of me no matter what. You’re finding the wrong idea of strength. You validate your strength based on what others say. Don’t take their words to heart.”

“How do I know?” you whisper. “If I really am strong?”

“You’re continuing to fight. Even when others would have lost the will to live, you keep risking your life for millions of people. The idea that you might never make a new sunrise, yet you’re still battling on, makes you stronger. And an advice, one spy to another. Never be ashamed of your scars. They show the world what you have braved.”

He hesitated, and then, to your astonishment, he raised his eyepatch slightly, to reveal a blind eye. Even in the dimming light, he looked as beautiful to you as ever.

“If anything, they don’t show your weakness. They display your strength and your loyalty. In my opinion, everyone falls for the one with the beauty on the surface. You deserve someone who can see the beauty carved in you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You genuinely feel a smile bloom. “You really do inspire me.”

“It’s my duty. And I told you not to refer to me as sir.”

“But I don’t know what to call you right now.”

“By my name.”

You halt. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that sir?”

“I am, if you will allow me to call you by yours.”

Of course you will.

And you found it hard to believe as mere coincidence when you began to be paired with him for every mission. But none of you seemed to mind, as it only gave you more chances of getting to know each other deeply.

From being ministers to two lawyers on separate cases to a pair of siblings looking for a lost child, you two did it all. Many covers, many names, many stories, many memories. What never changed was the two of you.

While your covers were to smother your identity, you found it harder and harder to conceal your feelings for him. While you first tried to bury them under a disguise, you utterly failed to stop wanting to be with him forever.

And even though you wanted to spend more time with him, you couldn’t help but begin to get tired of this job three years into service. Finally believing you had done all you believed yourself capable of in service for the country, you decided to drop your once-dream job and leave it all for a newer life.

You would have done it without hesitation, had there not been the thought of leaving one man behind holding you back. You were trying to find the best way to tell him this...

One night during training, Nanami sensed something off in you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look up from a daze, having zoned out. “Nothing.”

“Well, no going forward if you’re not focused.” He shut the book of codes close. “What’s disturbing you? I can read.”

You twist your fingers together. “I am leaving.”

The silence that followed was too loud. “May I ask why?”

“I don’t want to continue anymore.”

“Wasn’t being a spy your dream job?” He quizzed, setting himself down on a chair.

“Well, it was. But in movies, or documentaries, they only show the good things. They never tell us about the hardships. I don’t want to live a lie.”

“You’re not-”

“Please let me speak first.” You raise a hand. “I’m not afraid of dying anymore, like I was at first. I have no problem giving my best to my country, but I want to be myself. Under all these covers and fake names and fake stories, I feel like I’m losing myself. I’m tired of putting up acts and fooling others. I want to be real, in a real world. I want to write my own story instead of being written by someone else.”

“All of us go through that, Y/N. Give it some time, it will get better, I promise.” He was, maybe, thinking you were going through the same intervals of time where you doubted yourself, and he was trying to alleviate your doubts, but he didn't know you were not coming back from this one.

“Kento, I told you, I don’t want to continue anymore. I feel like I gave it all I can. I know I sound selfish, but sometimes it's okay to be.”

“But, you’ve trained all life for this. What will you do then?” The meaning dawned on his handsome face as worry etched his face.

“I don’t know. Get a job. Get a new degree. Get married. I guess I’ll figure it out. Anything but this.”

“Is there nothing I could do to convince you to stay?”

“No, because I’ve already given my resignation.”

He put his glasses onto his table and leaned forward towards you. “Well, it’s your right to leave, and even though your potential for a bright future is apparent, I respect your wish. Just know, these doors are always open for you.”

You smile. “You’re an amazing friend, Kento. Thank you. Though, I will do one last mission with you before I leave.”

“I look forward to it.”

*******

Finally, after days of wait, the day arrived when you were handed your last assignment. A senator had gone rogue and was rumoured to be making an appearance in London two weeks from now to sell national secrets whose leakage could prove detrimental.

You almost choked on your drink when you found out the role you were assigned to play.

In the party the senator was appearing, Kento was going to be a minister from the UK government while you were to be his charming wife.

For two days you had to prepare, you could not stop blushing every time you thought of that mission.

You wondered what Kento thought of that.

********

Throughout the journey here, Kento did not mention anything about his thoughts on this mission, so you were relaxed too. However, the thought of playing his wife's role sent butterflies in your stomach, and at times you stopped yourself from showing your giddiness.

If only this act could be real...

The fateful night was dazzling in the Christchurch Meadow, Oxford, as the hall was packed with people in suits and ladies in dresses and accents mingling with each other among the waiters gliding over the slippery floor serving drinks, the flowers adding a new fragrance to the castle alight with golden chandeliers.

You were wearing a black evening gown, your hair in a high bun, your feet clad in black heels, while Kento was looking absolutely dashing in a black suit, perfection dripping from his very footsteps, his hair styled in the same manner and his eyepatch the same colour as his suit. Even though the real minister was already hidden, as your handler told you, you were slightly afraid if anybody blew your cover, but nobody suspected him as an impostor, in fact, seeing his posture and poise, everyone seemed eager to include him in their social circle.

While the two of you roamed around, hand in hand, your face fighting the blush creeping up, he finally spotted someone, and led you towards a table. “Wait here.”

“We’re in this together!”

“I am aware, but if we both walk over, it would be suspicious. I’ll handle it, and you can handle the fighting.”

You agree and get seated, watching your partner get lost in the crowd, all the while thinking this might be your last time you ever see him.

You need to tell him-

“Is this seat taken?”

You raise your head to see a man with a black mop of hair, fair skin and brown eyes, a smile plastered on his face while his body stood tall in a white suit.

“No.” you reply, politely.

Dragging the chair forward, he plopped himself down, eerily glad to be with you.

“I am Lord Lyson.” He introduced himself. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“It’s an honour for me.”

“I’ve been wishing to talk to you for a while. If you may-”

On cue, the music began playing. He immediately darted his gaze in your direction.

“May I have the honour of this dance with you?”

“No, I’m sorry. I am a married person.”

“So I am aware. But nothing stops you from sharing a dance.” His fingers found their way to your wrist.

“And nothing stops you from finding other ladies.”

“How clever. But I wish your company tonight.”

“How charming, but I must ask you to leave me alone.” You jerk your wrist away from his slender-fingered grip.

His eyes sharpen as he lunges forward, his face impossibly close to you. You could gag against the reek of stale ginger from his mouth. “I know you’re no minister’s wife. I know who you are. Don’t try to be respectable around me, or I’ll bring this place on you.”

“Excuse me.” you raise your voice. “You have no business telling me what to do and what not to.” You stand straighter to rival his height, glaring daggers into him.

With a hand, he jerked you forward by the waist. “I could kill you, or kiss you here right now, and nobody could say anything.”

“If you know me so well, you know I’m not alone tonight.” You hiss.

“Well, where is he?” he mocks finding Kento, until a finger tapped his shoulder from behind. His face drained of colour while yours lighted up upon seeing Kento standing behind him, his face a stormy mood.

“There he is.” You smile sweetly at Lord Lyson.

“Pardon me,” your captor’s voice grew oily as with a sly smile, he tries to turn around, but is stopped by Kento’s hand. An uncharacteristically angry expression was on his face, the way his mouth curled with fury and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself with far less than you started with.”

You could melt seeing him take a stand for you. As Lyson’s retreating back went out of focus, Kento looked towards you, his furrowed eyebrows’ crease erasing.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course. Perfect timing, though.”

With a hand outstretched for you, you take it, and he leads you outside.

“Our job is done here. The senator never made it.”

**********

Somewhere in the distance, fireworks exploded as you finally completed your last ever mission. While you and Kento had decided you both deserve a break, you two sat by the River Thames, breathing slowly in the fresh air, letting your silences settle between you and unknowingly placing your hands close to each other.

Your eyes catch the light from the river, shimmering and sparkling, reminding you of your life as a spy. While you had to conceal your soul in these three years, like the dark waters of the Thames, some parts couldn’t help but shine bright, making living a secret worth it.

And tonight, that light might be stolen from your life. You decide to make the first move, because while you might have a lot of regrets, you don’t want the regret of never confessing grow roots in your heart. You want to tell the man beside you that he owns your heart from the beginning.

You turn your head towards him, who was looking at you, a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.” You manage to speak against the ball of tears obstructing your throat. “Thank you for everything, Kento.”

“The pleasure was all mine to have you by my side. And I hope that this is not goodbye, merely parting ways to meet again.”

“I hope so too.” you sigh.

“Y/N? Can I ask you one thing?”

You turn your head towards him in surprise. It’s always you who asked for permission, not him. “Why, of course.”

“A while ago, you said that you are tired of putting up acts for the world to see. I’m tired too, of pretending the two of us are…a pair. I want to make this real.”

You turn yourself towards him, your eyes wide as orbs and having forgotten to breathe. You could practically hear the rush of blood and your thundering heartbeat in your ears.

“It’s your right to leave, but it’s my wish that you stay with me. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to continue being a spy, but someone once told me it's sometimes okay to be selfish. Can I ask you to continue this act?”

In the moments it took you to calm your crazily beating heart, shaking body, and rapidly streaming breaths, he added, seeing your shocked face, “of course, you are free to say no, and I would not blame you should you not feel the same. I would want you to tell me honestly.”

“You kidding?”

You dare to raise a trembling hand and bring it to his face, brushing a stray strand of his hair backwards, the River Thames’ water being your witness. “I love being with you, Kento. And I love every moment spent with you. You need only say the word, and I’ll stay. Not as a spy, but as yours. Tell me you want me, because I want you. With you, everything feels real. and I will love you with all my heart, for as long as I get to live. Just say it, and I’ll stay to be anything you want me to be – your home, your secret, your love.”

The smile that spread on his face – oh, how you adored that smile. If living with him means getting to see this beautiful side of his every day, then nothing could be worth more than this.

“Y/N,” he muttered, his hand lying on top of yours, “a life with a spy isn’t easy. I might not be able to give you all you deserve, and I can’t guarantee if I’ll make it back to you every night. Would you be willing to be with me, knowing the risks even you might take again?”

“No future is better than the one with you. Nothing is worth more than you in my eyes. And yes, I am willing to even die for you, because you give me a purpose for living. I will become the one waiting for you at home. Kento Nanami, you are the reason I’m living, and I will face every danger with you, for as long as you want me.”

With fluid speed, he stood up, and pulled you with him. While you watched him extract a box with a ring in it, you barely containing your giddy excitement, he extended a gentle hand and you put yours in it.

He could ask for your life and you’d trust him with it.

When the ring glimmered enough for you to see, your eyes widened at recognition of this ring. On a mission prior, you two were passing by a jewelers’, and this pretty ring had caught your attention. While Kento was busy with a correspondent, your gaze had lingered long and hard at it, but you never mentioned it to anyone. He noticed, and he remembered.

While he slipped the ring onto your finger, you smiling into his eyes, with the promise of a life with him, you felt nothing could be more real than this.

You and he would be each other’s secrets. To be kept with your hearts, forever. And if the time called, you will put on a hundred disguises, if it meant you get to make this one act reality.

Hi everyone, Naomi here! This is a my second contribution to @dragonscribble's writing event. I chose this with Nanami Kento for the prompt 'I love being with you'. Thanks for reading this, and do share your opinions! <3

Collage made by me. DO NOT COPY MY WORK!

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