#▸ matsuba : crack ◂

[healbellls]

That's an unique way of greeting someone.

[cursedmystic]

yellow is sitting at the kotatsu in Matsuba’s home, holding his Banette in their lap. They look … out of sorts. They’ve looked out of sorts for a while.

“Matsuba. Does your family celebrate delibird day?”

The kotatsu is warm and topped with hot cocoa and mochi stacked high on a couple plates. He's tucked under it, looking half-asleep when Yellow speaks up and he cracks an eye open.

"Huh? No, not particularly. I've celebrated it with Whitney in the past, since she celebrates it, but we normally do Oseibo traditions here. Why, do you want to?"

[monterraverde]

The sound of cracking catches her attention, the incubator making a faint beeping noise as she quickly moved to open it, and as she did, a Sandshrew suddenly burst from it, rolling onto the floor.

For the endeavor it just went though, it hardly looked phased, sitting on the floor and looking around Matsubas home as she hurried over to pick it up, not wanting to make a catastrophic mess on accident, and she's quick to cradle it in her arms, then hold it out in front of her in both hands, just admiring the mutations...

Yep, this was Kaminas kid alright, look at those stripes!

"Oh you are going to look SO cool when you evolve. Hello Kage, welcome!" She beams, bringing the pokemon in for a snuggle before heading outside to let Kamina meet his child. The Excadrill is rightfully a bit confused, gently poking at the Sandshrew with its claw and making the newborn curl into a ball, which was then batted around like a toy, but based on the Sandshrews gleeful chittering, it seemed to enjoy the treatment.

"Heh... Can't wait to see how YOU grow up, little one... I gotta text Gio about this."

[draconscious]

@cursedmystic sent:

( txt: clair ) hey are you still in saffron. if not then disregard ( txt: clair ) but if you are, can i get you to bring something to my hotel room. stuck here, not feeling so well.

"...Easy."

Clair tuts as she thumbs through the new messages, free hand firmly planted against the nape of her young Salamence, Ares. The excitable dragon whines impatiently under his trainer's steadying grip, his wings twitching with anticipation. He's been mounted up on this Saffron rooftop, and now they aren't going anywhere...what the hell? Let's get out of here already--he just wants to fly some more...

"Soon, okay? Matsuba needs something," Clair finally decides, swinging her legs over in a graceful dismount, gear still clutched in her glove. (Ares is not pleased, and the ensuing huff and eye roll combo that he offers up is obviously learned from his tamer. Before Clair can react, the moody Salamence launches himself straight into the clouds to blow off some steam. Whatever!)

Clair sighs, shaking her head as she squints down at the cracked device again. Despite the inconvenient timing of Matsuba's text, she's still worried about him.

[to: Matsuba] bad day???

[to: Matsuba] still here and can do just tell me what to bring over

The smallest of smirks.

[to: Matsuba] ill add it to ur bill

[yellowsforest]

@monterraverde said:

She sputters and laughs when Yellow grabs her face, having to bend forward a bit. “Ack- Yellow- Come on I’m fine, Matsuba already took a crack at healing.” Though admittedly, Yellow made all her aches and pains just vanish. “You don’t gotta tire yourself out over tiny injuries like that.”

“Better at this than Matsuba.”

that’s not a nice thing to say, but it is, admittedly, a tiny little bit true. This is something Yellow was born able to do. They turn their attention back to the dress, enamored with it — they don’t get clothes often. Especially not pretty dresses!! Yellow turns to her and holds it up.

“Can i put it on now?”

[futuresightcd]

┍━━━━━━━━»•»

          ❛ Soon, he says. Not realizing I play hard to get. ❛

[softinkshadows]

battlefield encounters  (gojo, nanami, geto, sukuna) (part 1)

Some short vignettes of jjk men x female reader imagined scenarios, where reader meets them for the first time in the middle of a fight (all taking place within the same world and timeline of the manga/anime, although as parallel storylines). 

Gojo Satoru 

The gun cocks. You aim it at the man standing in front of you. He pleads pathetically with a look of despair, his face coated in cold sweat as he mumbles words begging for forgiveness, promising riches. It’s always the same. You scoff, then pull the trigger - once, twice, three times. The sound of the shots echo throughout the empty abandoned warehouse. You watch as the man slumps to the ground in a lifeless heap, joining the other scattered bodies around him. 

“Well, that’s the last of them,” you mutter to yourself, sheathing the gun back in your belt. The Inozuka syndicate had been overstepping their boundaries in the city recently, creating unnecessary pressure on the Matsuba faction, which long held control over the city’s largest district. And of all people, they had chosen to attack you in this dank warehouse as a bargaining chip for more territory, thinking you were an easy target because you were a woman. When in fact you remain one of the strongest upper-management leaders of the Matsuba syndicate. You gaze down coldly on the pile of bodies at your feet, some distorted, bloodied, eyes half-open in death, and the familiar hollow feeling creeps into your chest before you can suppress it. Killing, again and again and again. Is this my life now? Resigned, you turn on your heels, preparing to leave.

A sudden cold wave hits you from behind without warning, a wave so suffocating your mind spins, and your chest tightens as if dozens of clammy hands are gripping your throat. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face. As you spin around, your hand instinctively reaches for your gun at your waist, but what you see makes you halt in terror.

Four protruding eyes sit atop its grotesque head, its large set of teeth pitch black and spread wide in an unnerving smile. An overpowering aura emanates from its body, all four limbs streaked with giddying patterns of black and white, and your eyes glance downwards at its incredibly sharp claws, feeling a lump gather in your throat. There’s no mistaking it. You had always been able to see curses ever since you were young, those small annoying fly heads and larger clumsy monstrosities, but this... this is different. It’s as if you're staring at death in the face.

The cool handle of your gun against your fingertips propels you back to reality. Don’t think! You raise your weapon only to feel yourself flying across the open room, slamming into discarded storage boxes with a loud crash. Limbs faltering, you struggle to get up from underneath the debris. A terrifying gleeful screech resounds as the curse leaps towards you, and you move the best your instincts allow, diving out of the way and firing a few useless shots.

You’re only aware after the fact of a sudden throbbing pain in your left arm, and a growing wetness that trails down your skin to your wrist. You examine it briefly, gritting your teeth in pain. Your exposed flesh is ripped up like paper, with large stinging claw marks running across your arm. There’s a stabbing feeling in your ribs and one of your legs isn’t moving like you would wish it to. 

“Shit,” you mutter as you drag yourself towards the concrete wall, propping yourself up against it. Unharmed, the curse licks your blood from its claws, mocking your helpless state. You feel the fabric of your pants getting gradually soaked in warm pooling liquid, along with the onset of dizziness from the blood loss. Shit. After all these years of fighting, surviving, killing... I guess this is how I’m going to go out, huh. In a dingy-ass warehouse. Chewed to scraps by a damn curse. 

“Fucking hell,” you chuckle flatly, lifting your gun again in a last burst of dignity and taking aim. Then it lunges.

You prepare yourself to meet your end, awaiting the heavy, pulpy crush of your skull against the wall, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, the warehouse warps before you. 

“Wha-” your voice falls away as you’re moved away from the line of attack in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, you’re staring at the ground from above, your limbs dangling beneath you. You hear the loud crack of crumbling cement from the curse’s impact where you stood a mere second ago. A firm hand holds you by the waist. A different energy, deeper, much stronger this time, radiates fiercely from beside you like the blooming of plum blossoms in snow.

“Who in the hell ar-” you cough out, both wary and mesmerized, struggling to look up over your shoulder.

“Now, now, don’t get too excited,” a voice teases, “I promise to pay proper attention to you in just a while.” A man with a tacky-looking blindfold looks down at you with a smug, annoying grin. Although somehow, even with the dark cloth securely over his eyes, his distant gaze is strangely piercing. The next thing you notice is his striking white hair, a shocking colour accentuated by his dark clothes, giving him an air of otherworldly elegance. But hell, something about his tone grates at you - is this guy actually being cocky at a time like this?

Before you can protest, he lifts his hand towards the approaching curse. You feel yourself gape in awe as the space before him curls wildly, pulling in and amassing a good deal of energy. Within seconds the curse is shredded horribly, twisting and screaming as it burns out with a bright blue flame. You heart thuds and you feel your hair stand on end. This curse could have snapped you in half at any moment. Yet this man takes it out with a single wave of his finger.

"You can see it, right?" His voice jolts you from your stupor. He is standing on the ground now, still carrying you rather expertly in a way that avoids pressing down on your injuries. He looks at you intently with a curious expression. You don’t realize he has taken interest in the surprising lack of cursed energy dwelling in your body. It reminds him of someone he met a few years ago, someone who nearly killed him...

"Yeah, so what? It's not like I haven’t seen them before. And you can put me down now,” you’re growing cautious of this stranger, but retort rather weakly as the effect of your wounds start to set in.

"Hmm, interesting~" He casually ignores your last statement, strolling over to pick up what appears to be a blackened, wrinkled finger on the floor, stringing you along like you weigh absolutely nothing. You hear him mutter to himself something about finding a fifth finger, and handing it over to some shitty higher-ups. 

Tutting in annoyance, you raise your voice, moving to pry his strong fingers from around you. "Hey, blindfold, I don't know who you are but you can let me go now, I’m good-" You speak too soon as the searing pain in your arm returns, making you wince. “Sure you are,” he chortles doubtfully, stifling a laugh at your awkward, impossible efforts. Oh, you’d love to hit him right now. But his hands say something else, pulling your struggling arms apart, gentle and serious, as if determined to not let you hurt yourself further. Gojo ponders thoughtfully for a moment. Looks like I’ve found something interesting. And a troublesome one, too. He lapses into a smug grin again. “Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?” Speaking in a lighthearted singsong voice, as if to a child, he smirks a little, before tapping two fingers against your forehead. Immediately, your vision darkens, and the last thing you are vaguely aware of is a faint scent of fresh pear, and a strong arm hooking under your knees, lifting you to lean against someone’s chest as a warm feeling of enveloping safety lulls you to sleep.  ------ My writing got a little long for Gojo’s so i’m going to split the post into several parts over the next few days! I’m trying to keep it such that Reader has different identities in these different storylines, to perhaps propel your own imagination to take the story further from there. Hope you liked this one~ :)  --- Taglist (っ˘ω˘ς ) : @encrytpta @wilddreamer98

[ghostlyvisions]

[ Headcanon that the reason why morty’s gym is so foggy is bc he vAPES INDOORS😩😩😩☁☁☁👻👻]

[nekoplusdanshi]

Morty/Enki 01

Wordcount: ~ 1,500 words

Fandom, Pairings: Pokémon, Morty/OC

Warnings: bit of an age gap, foster siblings to lovers, total AU with me making everything up

A/N: A self-indugent fic with an edgy OC I ended up caring about way too much. Mostly about interactions with spirits and ghost pokemon. Enjoy.

-

Morty is fourteen when he meets Enki, and all he can think as he looks at the younger boy is that he looks so very, very tired. Enki is skinny, and pale, and trembles a little as he holds a Pokémon Morty’s never seen before in his lap. His lower lip looks bruised and swollen, as if he was biting it, trying not to cry. Morty has become quite stoic in recent years, training very hard to get his feelings under control and tune out the white noise that results from his psychic abilities, but when he looks at Enki then, he feels a surge of unexpected emotion; pity, or something close to it.

His father and Enki’s are speaking in hushed tones, and out of curiosity, Morty listens in;

“I understand. We’ll do everything in our power to assist you.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly…”

“It may take some time. This sort of thing is never easy…”

He can’t make it all out from where he’s peeking through the crack in the sliding door, but after a moment his father turns and sighs, looking directly at him with infinite patience. “Morty,” he calls. “Come here if you’re going to eavesdrop anyway. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Morty has the decency to look a little sheepish at least, pushing the door back and stepping into the tatami-floored room. The Pokémon looks at him, or at least Morty thinks it does—it’s difficult to tell with the way its eyes are covered by fluffy, green fur. It’s owner, however, doesn’t react—doesn’t even so much as glance in Morty’s direction. His eyes are fixed on some indistinguishable point in the shadows of one corner of the room. Morty follows his gaze and notices a flicker of energy, a spirit of someone long-since passed. Ah, he thinks then, like a lightbulb going off in his head. So, he can see them, too.

He mumbles a greeting and sits down seiza next to his father, hands placed neatly on his thighs. “This is my son, Morty.” His father places a hand on his shoulder, a heavy and familiar weight. “He’s training as a spiritualist himself, and is to one day succeed me as the leader of Ecruteak Gym. Morty,” he says, and gestures towards the fragile boy in front of him. “This is Enki. His family has traveled a very long way from the Hoenn region, seeking our counsel.”

Morty notes the plural; our counsel.

“He’s going to be staying with us for a while. I hope you’ll help him feel at home here.”

Morty thinks for a moment that he should be offended; the boy—Enki—is being spoken about, and yet hasn’t so much as even turned his head to look at him. But there’s something in the shadows under his eyes and the way his hands tremble that makes Morty let it go. He holds out his hand so it hovers square in Enki’s field of vision and smiles, patiently. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then, eyes flickering to the corner of the room again, adds, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”

And there isn’t. The spirit there is weak, and quite benign; one of his own distant relatives, Morty guesses, lingering in the old family home long after death. He’s seen spirits like this time and time again. What is there to be afraid of?

Enki jolts a little. His eyes skitter over to meet Morty’s, and Morty notices for the first time that they’re nearly pitch black. He doesn’t move for a moment, as if he didn’t hear what Morty said, but then the Pokémon in his lap makes a soft, imploring sound, as if saying something only Enki can understand. Enki swallows, and finally extends a small hand to clasp Morty’s own. His palm is damp with sweat, but cold to the touch.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he replies softly. “Morty.”

…

He realizes why Enki is here quickly enough.

It’s obvious from the way the boy shudders and trembles whenever a spirit is around that he’s affected by them, strongly. It goes beyond normal sensitivity. Where Morty sees shadows—weak spirits that hardly have the energy to even stay in the world of the living—Enki sees apparitions. Where Morty feels a strong presence—a weight on his chest and perhaps, when the spirit is particularly strong, an uneasiness—Enki feels more, pressured to the point he can barely breathe. Morty has been told time and time again that he’s inherited a great power, the sensitivity of the Matsuba line that’s passed down through generations. But when he meets Enki, he thinks that surely, these people must’ve been joking.

His power is nothing compared to this.

And as a result, the burden he’s carried since birth suddenly seems a million times lighter.

Enki isn’t like him though, not entirely. His spiritual sensitivity is incredible, but he lacks the psychic power needed to deal with it. This, Morty realizes quickly, is where his Pokémon comes in, and also why he’s come to Ecruteak city in the first place.

Morty had thought it odd at first to see a child so young with a Pokémon to call his own, but discovers after a while that it’s by some sort of special permission. The Pokémon—called Ralts, Morty finds out soon enough—helps Enki control his own emotions and also wards off unwelcome spirits that would otherwise overwhelm the boy. It’s an interesting condition, to be honest, and Morty is sure there’s plenty of people out there who would be eager to study Enki, his sensitivity to the paranormal, the subsequent effect both psychic and ghost type Pokémon have on him.

But that isn’t what Enki or his family wants. They make it very clear to Morty’s father that all they want is for Enki to be able to live a normal life.

Enki wants to be normal.

…

“He’ll be training with us,” Morty’s father explains to him one morning, as they both hover in the kitchen drinking coffee, minds occupied with thoughts of the boy sleeping upstairs. “He needs to learn how to live with ghost Pokémon and deal with the spirits of the dead.” He father takes a long sip from his mug and then brings a hand up to his chin in thought. “He needs psychic training as well. There’s no running from something like this, and he can’t rely on his ralts forever.”

Morty tilts his head, crossing his arms and leaning back against the countertop. “Why, though?” he asks, genuinely confused. “Why not rely on his ralts as much as he needs to? Psychic training won’t be easy. He’s a complete novice.” And he wasn’t naturally gifted in clairvoyance or psychic warding like the Matsuba family was. Frankly, Morty doesn’t see the point.

His father shakes his head though, frowning. “No Pokémon will ever be able to alleviate his mental burden entirely. He needs to learn how to block out all this energy on his own. Right now, the spirits scare him; not just the evil ones—all spirits terrify him, because he can’t tell which are dangerous and which are… well, just scary to look at. He feels so much of the dead’s emotions that he can hardly tell them apart from his own.”

Morty furrows his brow a bit, trying to understand. “So he’s a medium?” he asks. “Feeling the spirits’ emotions…”

“No,” his father cuts in. “Rather, he shouldn’t be. He’d be too susceptible to possession. And I don’t mean just channeling or communicating with the dead—I mean true possession. The type that’s hard to come back from.”

For his part, Morty isn’t sure what to say—isn’t even sure how he feels about the whole situation. There’s a part of him that thinks maybe he should feel a bit jealous, or put out about the fact that he now has to share his father’s precious tutelage with another. Many came to the Matsuba family’s gates hoping to be taken in as disciples only to be turned away. But then, for his father to accept this boy into their household… That in itself spoke to the gravity of his situation.

And Morty, despite his own inexperience, had been able to sense it as well—the desperation from Enki’s parents, and the tumult of emotions that hovered around Enki himself, dark and stifling. That was no way to live.

Though it goes unsaid between them, both Morty and his father are thinking the same thing, as shadows creep in a little closer from the corners of their house and silvery entities slither unseen along the floors; Enki wasn’t only oversensitive to the presence of spirits… He attracted them, as well.

“Well,” Morty says finally, and downs the rest of his coffee in one go. “It seems we have our work cut out for us.

[lilies-and-fragile-hearts]

Journal Entry Three | Sayuri Nishu

@deckspair

Dear Diary,

Not much time has passed since the last trial, and yet our dorm already seems much... emptier. Because Yasu Kozakura-san has been murdered. Now, it is only myself and Nakamura-san in the Daikon Dorm, and the absence of Kozakura-san can already be felt. I was... truly hoping that it would never come down to this.

Only a while ago, it seemed that Kozakura-san had managed to attract a large fish to slam into the side of the observation deck, creating a large crack and causing water to spill through it. However, instead of punishing Kozakura-san and fixing the hole, FrogBot and SpiderBot decided on a new idea: the hole would not be fixed until somebody died. It was... unsurprising that they would do something like this. Such cruel robots they are, truly.

I believe some were angry with Kozakura-san after this. As for myself, I did blame them for causing the glass to get broken, but not for the motive. That was entirely the faults of FrogBot and SpiderBot. They should be blamed, not Kozakura-san. 

And yet, Kozakura-san was still killed. Akatsuki-san found their body in the gym, hanging by a bunch of cables. Soon after, FrogBot and SpiderBot announced another trial. So, once again we had to investigate in order to send one of our own classmates to their death. I formed a group with Matsuba-san and Ukiyo-maemi-san, and we worked together to walk around the ship and discover evidence.

It was at this time I realized the importance of something I had heard the night before. Around three in the morning, I had heard a loud thump outside the Lotus Elevator on the second floor. At the time I thought nothing of it, but now I realize that it must have been... Kozakura-san, falling to their death. They had fallen to their death, and I had simply ignored it. Thought I had imagined it. Perhaps if I had been there sooner... hadn’t ignored it... I could have helped.

...What kind of doctor am I? What kind of doctor can not save anyone who needs them? My entire purpose is to save others, and I am incapable of saving even a single person here.

...I am sorry. I believe that I have gone off topic. I talked to Matsuba-san during the investigation. They had also heard something similar, at four or five, and had seen a stack of chairs in the gym. I suppose it was... reassuring that I hadn’t been the only one that could have done something differently heard something. I reassured Matsuba-san myself that nobody would blame them for not doing anything. It was... nice to say that. It helped me as well... And as we found out in the trial later, it seems that by that point Kozakura-san was already dead. They had been killed by the fall. The fall that I had most likely heard.

...I do not believe I wish to write about this more. The killer was NANIKO-san, or Mia Mastumoto-san. She killed Kozakura-san. She saved us, but she killed Kozakura-san. And I... do not know how to feel. 

I do not know if I can write about this much longer. So, I will not. 

Yours Sincerely, Sayuri Nishu

[healbellls]

Crimes

WANTED: Matsuba, dead. REASON: Caught stealing from citizens. LAST SEEN: 8/14/1897 in Vermont. NATIONAL PRIORITY: 16 DANGER LEVEL: Medium BOUNTY: $10,000

"I think I'm in danger-"

WANTED: Morty, dead or alive. REASON: Murdered a citizen. LAST SEEN: 12/12/1868 in Pennsylvania. NATIONAL PRIORITY: 16 DANGER LEVEL: High BOUNTY: $50,000

Stares at the camera as if he were in the Office.

[cursedmystic]

fully copy-pasting this from discord but here are the ghost headcanons

[Vlad] eldritch worm — 10/20/2023 8:49 AM so when it comes to ghost types it's ultimately a manifestation of will on the part of the pokemon. a big component of becoming A Pokemon rather than like. your stereotypical spirit is the fact that a soul manages to collect itself to think 'I Am (insert pokemon here)' and to follow the whims of that type of Pokemon and their instincts to affect the material from the ethereal, you have to have SOME corporeal state to you, or you can't touch anything or be seen or heard

it's why, I think, ghosts super effect ghosts - they can force other weaker spirits back to the ethereal

[Vlad] eldritch worm — 10/20/2023 8:51 AM it's also a matter of will for the trainers - ghosts will ultimately seek a way to interact with the world and a weak willed medium is ripe for possession to give a physical form to any pokemon determined enough to get it

[8:54 AM] it's why, even if he has self doubts, matsuba never hesitates with his actual team. he trusts them implicitly but a crack in will means something ELSE can latch on

[8:54 AM]the last time he really hesitated was against black fog and. well

[Vlad] eldritch worm — 10/20/2023 8:55 AM he hesitated because it turned his healing against them and he hurt green and greens arcanine but yeah. with ghosts it's all about willpower baby

[8:56 AM] a ghost unsure of itself will have a difficult time of maintaining its shape

[Shiro] ***A*** — 10/20/2023 8:56 AM Implying Matsuba could capitalize on a creature’s small lapse in willpower?

[Vlad] eldritch worm — 10/20/2023 8:57 AM yep

[8:57 AM] you can dispel or capture ghosts at their weakest like that (but he doesn't like doing it if he doesn't have to bc it's stressful)

[8:59 AM] It's also why the black fog gastly have mostly dissipated except those with strong bonds they were forced manifestations and once the source of that manifestation was contained they didn't have the will to hold together unless they had a strong trainer to hold onto

[8:59 AM] (in my own thoughts anyways cas is free to say otherwise)

[9:02 AM] even the weakest ghost can manifest if they have a strong trainer. matsuba will always warn people who Really get into training ghosts that you're gonna always be feeding a bit of yourself to them, but they'll grow the strongest if you do

[monterraverde]

“What- But Matsubas been missing for god knows how long, how the hell you expect me to sit still? Everythings been falling apart since we got back-“

She breaks into a coughing fit, being forced to sit on her bed by the younger in the room.

“Then let me go find him, let me go on the grand adventure for once, you and the rest of that party are such a mess still…” Bella narrows her eyes, removing her hand from Rikas shoulder before cracking a wide, shit eating grin.

“‘Sides! Based on what you told me theres possible Supernatural shit at play, and we BOTH know how shitty you are with that.” She laughs, bringing up the Moon ball that contained her Gholdengo. “Aulus and I DEFINITELY got this covered, you sit tight! We’ll be back before you know it!”

[danganronpa-paradox]

CHAPTER 1 - 018

After talking to everyone with Hitomi, we decided to follow Midori to the rec room. She said there were some people discussing the… recent events, so we figured we’d go check it out and see what the general consensus on how we should deal with this is.

There were about 5 other people in the rec room when we went in -- Naomasa, Naoto, Mitsunari, Taiyou and Keiji. That meant that half of us were discussing the motive in the rec room. Midori closed the door behind us, and we walked over to the others. Naomasa was the first to speak.

“Lovely of you to join us, ladies.”

“Hey there! Matsuba mentioned this to us, so we figured we’d drop by.”

“Yeah, we were just talking about the… y’know.”

“Yes. That.”

“We set this up so we could touch base with each other, and make sure there wasn’t anything concerning about these forums.”

“I am a bit concerned about the others who didn’t show up though…”

The others who didn’t show up… that’d be Yuu, Hitoshi, Haruka, Naomi, Asahi, Yuki, Kasumi and Kotori. We talked to 2 of them, and we tried to talk to Kotori, but she was talking to someone else. I wondered what was up with the other 5?

“Well, what’s important now is the people who did show up.”  

“Guess so. We’re just talkin’ ‘bout these bullshit forums. Where did that fucker even get these from? Did he really take’em from the school?”

“He said that he did, but given his nature, I don’t really think we can trust what he says.”

“So, what do we do? Just… Hmmm… Anyone got any ideas?”

“Well, like Oxford Blue over there said, we’ve just been tellin’ each other what’s on our forums to make sure nobody’s like, a serial killer, or somethin’.” That was an… interesting way to put it.

“Oh, alright then. I didn’t really see anything noteworthy on mine, unless you count some broken bones from rough soccer matches as something noteworthy.”

“I-I can confirm that! I, um, I got your forum, Kurosawa.”

“Ah, that’s right! We all get two forums, I forgot.” How did I forget that? Get it together, Ichigo.

“So, do we just… go around the circle then…?”

Hitomi was next.

“Well, um… I was born with transverse deficiency... basically, I’m missing my left leg.”

“And as a result of that, I’ve been wearing a prosthetic for most of my life.” She lifted her skirt a bit to show the others her leg.

“...”

“...”

“Damn…”

”...Can’t imagine how tough that is… only havin’ one leg and havin’ to walk around with another that ain’t really yours…”

“Well, I guess it is kinda yours ‘cuz you own it, but it ain’t really yours cuz it’s… a fake leg… y’know what I mean.”

“Yeah… I get it.”

“...Thank you for sharing. Yamazaki? Taiyou said she received your forum as well, but is there something you’d like to share with us?”

“Well, there is the reason I was scouted into Hope’s Peak in the first place…”

“In school, my average grade for math assignments and tests currently sits at 100, and it’s sat there ever since they started keeping track of my averages. My averages in subjects that involve a lot of math like science are also in the high ninetys.”

“The school board was baffled by how this was possible, and some of my teachers thought I was cheating. So when I was about thirteen, I was sent on a plane to the University of Tokyo, where I was tasked with solving 10 of the university’s most difficult math problems, while being watched by some of the professors to make sure I wasn’t cheating, because they didn’t believe that I could do it either. Joke’s on them, because I managed to solve them all correctly and flawlessly in precisely six minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

“They still didn’t believe it, so they took me to get an IQ test. I scored 166. That’s when I hit the news, and Hope’s Peak eventually found out about me, and put me into their Super Junior High School Level Divison, and after that... here I am now.”

“Wow… that’s impressive!” Of course, he had already told me this information, but it was still crazy knowing a person as smart as he was!

“Whoa! You’re, like, one of the smartest people out there, and you’re only in high school!”

“He’s right! And with that IQ… you’re a literal genius!”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s not that special.”

“You’ve been a Hope’s Peak student for years, and you’re the guy who scored 166 on his IQ test when he was thirteen. I wouldn’t call that ‘not special’! Who knows what your IQ is now?”

“She’s got a point! Mitsunari’s already told me that there’s nothing he wants to share, so it’s my turn!”

“Really, the only interesting thing on here is that I’ve been playing in the band since I was thirteen. Keiji?”

“...Nothing really on mine.”

“Keiji, I got your forum. I know.”

“...Okay, fine, I’ll spill.”

“...We yarnbombed an entire park in the dead of night. Me and my knitting group.”

“You did what.”

“It was really fun! It was part of an event that we were participating in centered around art, so it was perfectly legal.”

“Why would they put that on your forum?”

“It was part of the reason I was scouted. They wanted someone from that group, and since I was the only one still in high school, they chose me!”

“Haha! You’re pretty wild, Thistle!”

“There ain’t too much on mine, ‘cept for the fact that I apparently grew an inch since they filled this out.”

“Alright then. Matsuba, you’re our last one!”

“O-Oh, me? Hehe, um, well…”

“Y-Y’know how Monomage said that some of us might be keeping secrets about our talents…?”

“Yeah, what about that?”

“Well…”

“...”

“!!!”

“???”

“Lil’ Candytuft… yer a-”

“Yes. I am.”

“Midori is… not real. She’s just one of the many identities I have assumed while going undercover. Everything you see on me is fake. The clothes, the hair, the makeup, the contacts, everything.”

“But… why’dja go undercover as a chocolatier?”

“You wouldn’t believe what some people put in those chocolates.”

“...Jesus Christ.”

“...Also, I received your forum, um… Toyama? Matsuba?”

“Matsuba’s fine. I’ll need to keep up this facade for a while anyway.”

“Facade?”

“You can’t exactly be an undercover officer without criminals and their associates in your midst… and I’ll just leave it at that.” What did she mean by that? Was there a criminal in the building with us who wasn’t being truthful about who they were?

...Did they have something to do with our kidnapping?

“...Right then. I’m no criminal expert, but if that criminal is really here and out for you, then staying hidden is probably a smart choice.”

“Yeah… but the thought of having a criminal after you is horrible to think about…”

“It is, but it’s something I have to think about a lot. I don’t really get scared thinking about it that much, but I guess that’s because I’m used to it.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Well, I’m glad we all had this discussion. I suppose we should all just wander around until suppe-”

“Not so fast!”

“Gah!”

“You!”

“...”

“Now what exactly is going on here? I give you those forums as a potential way to kill each other and here you are reading the contents like it’s some show and tell bullshit!”

“So what? You can’t control what we do wit’em, and you can’t stop us from talkin’ bout’em either!”

“Yeah, he’s right. It’s literally in the rules that you told us to follow.” She quickly booted up her Student Handbook.

“4. The host may not interfere with the students unless they break a rule or specifically request it.”

“You’d literally be breaking your own rules if you tried to force us to stop talking about it. Besides, you literally gave us a motive to kill someone. It’s only natural that it’d be a hot topic for discussion.” She was clearly trying to keep up her image as Midori, but it was almost like I could hear Chisato slipping through the cracks of her sentence.

“Well, I never! Seems like your law knowledge is coming in handy there, Officer!”

“...” I guess Monomage already knew who she was. She didn’t look scared though, so maybe Monomage wasn’t the criminal she mentioned.

“But, I guess since we’re all sharing stuff about each other…” He reached for the brim of his hat. “...I think it’s only fair that I share something about me!”

In that instant, he whipped the hat off his head, and…

...and…

“Ta-da!”

...What the heck.

“What.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Well, aren’t you just a pleasant bunch. Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?”

“W-We were taught to express gratitude to stuff we liked, not stuff like this. What the damn were you expecting reactionwise?”

“Yeah! Tell’im like it is!”

“Oh, I get it! You all are just jealous that you don’t have luscious locks like mine! Shahahahaha!”

“Oh, you think you’re hot shit, huh?” Naomasa stood up from where he was sitting and reached behind his head.

“Oh? A challenger approaches? A challenger who thinks his hair attracts more attention than mine? Shahaha! You can’t get higher quality than this, Mr. Saxobeat!” Monomage’s taunting didn’t seem to deter Naomasa in the slightest, because in mere seconds…

“You wanna bet?”

“...”

“!!!”

“Well, how bout that!”

“Seriously, you could probably be a shampoo model with hair like that!”

“Oh, come on! What happened to little ol’ me?”

“You’re not important.”

“You’ve also just lost a bet.”

“Well, aren’t you just gentlemen! Guess I’ll leave you to your ‘teamwork’ bullcrap!” With a wave of his staff, his hat reappeared on his head and his hair was stuffed back inside.

“Thank you for choosing the Despairing Sunset Inn, and we hope you enjoy your miserable stay! Happy slaughtering!” He disappeared in yet another puff of smoke.

“Off he goes again.”

“Better gone than here, I suppose.”

“What was that all about, anyway?”

“I… couldn’t tell you, honestly.” I’d been confused the entire time Monomage had been in the room. First, he was condemning us for sharing our forums with each other, and then he was sharing… “information” about himself with all of us. Was he trying to confuse us, or did he have something else in mind?

“Whatever it was, we managed to chase him off again.”

“You mean you chased him off with that hair of yours.”

“Hehehe, just doing my best.”

I had to chuckle at that. After a bit of banter between Naomasa and Keiji, we all decided to head back. One or two people stayed behind, but the majority of us left for other places in the inn. I, however, wanted to check in with those people I hadn’t talked to earlier… That’d be Hitoshi, Nobuyuki, Kasumi, Asahi, and Naomi. I wondered what they thought of the whole thing?

BACK | NEXT

[shiftxdxquilibrium]

No good deed...

Massive trigger warning for emotional and physical abuse, read with caution.

If Henrietta had to chose only one room in the estate to hate, it would be her grandmother’s office. At least, that’s the what the woman called it. One of the maids had barged into her room, saying something about how ‘the mistress’ wanted her.

A few minutes later, Henrietta stood in the doorway of the office, fingers clenching against the frame. Koharu Seishomaru sat at the low table in the middle of the room. Something about the way the old woman sat there, like a noblewoman in her finery, set Henrietta’s teeth on edge.

“What now?” Henrietta grumbled, sitting down at the table. She never mastered the seiza as they called it, simply sitting with her legs tucked under her as best she could. Her grandmother looked at her over the bridge of her nose, and Henrietta had to bite back some kind of retort.

“That temperament is most unbecoming child.” Koharu wasted no time in her critique. “But we will have to save that for another time.” The woman reached under the table, presenting a broken doorknob.

“Does this look familiar?”

Henrietta felt a shiver run up her spine at the question. Yes, yes it did. That was the doorknob to the kitchen. Her attempts to pick the lock had ended in failure, leading to Henrietta taking a bat to the door. All she’d wanted was to have stew with her father, give the both of them some measure of a Christmas meal.

Maybe even make something for a friend.

“Have Matsuba and I not made the rules of the house clear?” Henrietta kept her gaze on the doorknob as Koharu spoke. “Everything is taken care of, simply meet our demands halfway. It seems that selfish children will still do as they please.”

Henrietta swallowed the lump quickly forming in her throat. Arguing was going to get her nowhere fast. Koharu sighed at her. “Naughty children must be punished, lest they begin to think they can get their way.” The woman tutted, rapping a finger against the table. “Hands on the table.”

Henrietta looked up. “What?” Koharu scowled at her.

“Do I have to repeat myself? Hands on the table.” At the near snarl, Henrietta quickly placed her hands on the table, palms down. “Children learn quick don’t they?” Koharu mused, lifting a hand and making a beckoning motion. Henrietta turned to see a man in the corner, holding a yardstick.

Familiarity reminded her that the man was Mr. Tanaka, Koharu’s chief butler. Tanaka sat at the table, the yardstick held over Henrietta’s hands. “Of course, children learn best with the proper ah, motivation.”

There was no warning when the stick met her skin, just a loud crack and a strangled yelp. Henrietta grit her teeth with the next strike, hissing quietly. There was no way she was giving Koharu the satisfaction of hearing her in pain. Eyes shut tight, Henrietta quickly lost count of the swats, jumping each time the wood met her skin.

After what seemed like an eternity, Koharu spoke up. “Tanaka that is enough.” There was an affirmative grunt from Tanaka, who stood up from the table, yardstick in hand.

Henrietta opened her eyes, blinking back unshed tears as she looked down at her hands. Cuts stretched across her hands and knuckles, some of them already bleeding. Bandaging them wasn’t going to be fun.

“In the past, thieves had their hands removed. What a lucky child, getting to keep her hands.” Koharu crooned, smile sickeningly sweet. “Don’t worry, we will take care of getting a new doorknob, it will come to you to pay for it.” Henrietta swallowed, trying her hardest to keep her lunch down.

“Now get out.” Henrietta rose on shaking legs, refusing to look her grandmother in the eye as she left.

It wasn’t until she laid on the bathroom floor, hands bandaged from wrist to her finger tips that Henrietta would cry.

[moonrazed]

       tag dump : MATSUBA・・・・★