#Three Things You Should Know About Sigmund

[thatsbelievable]

[cheriedies]

Naoki Urasawa's Monster in real life

So, I spent my holidays in Czechia and realized it would be a good opportunity to try and find the real life references and inspirations for one of my favourite anime series - Monster (haven't gotten my hands on the manga yET). After a bit of research I found that @fuckyeahjohanliebert has already done this almost a decade ago and their account has been extremely helpful. I also used the websites that I've linked at the very end of the post and you should definitely check them out as I didn't get the chance to visit every single location. It is honestly incredible how much work this person has put into their research. With that being said, here is what these places look like as of January 2023, alongside some tips I wanted to share in case you decide to visit them during your stay in Prague!

Let's start with the easiest location: Charles Bridge. It is probably the most visited place in Prague and so it can be quite crowded, especially around NYE.

Next, we have a shot of a tram in front of what today is the Palladium, a large shopping mall. Location: Nám. Republiky 1078/1, 110 00 Petrská čtvrť, Czechia

Okay, this one was a bit tricky because I wasn't able to find the exact reference for the Tri Zaba (Three Toads) sign. Most sources pointed me towards Hotel U Tri Pstrosu (Three Ostriches) which is right besides the Charles Bridge. However, a reddit user posted a picture from U Tri Capu hotel (Three Herons), and someone mentioned it being a possible inspiration in the replies. Therefore, I took pictures of both and upon looking at them closely I honestly cannot be certain about which of the two served as the main inspiration, maybe it was a mixture of both? Looking purely at the shape of the sign the Three Herons (Far Right) seems to be the closest. The positioning of the three ostriches on the other hand (Middle) is more similar to the way the toads are positioned. If you have any sources I've missed pls link them!

I also found this detailing you can spot if you are walking by the Vltava River. A thing to note: I could find this specific fencing only of the side of the river that is next to the Ministerstvo průmyslu a obchodu, If your cross the bridge the design is completely different. Location: Petrská čtvrť, 110 00 Prague 1, Czechia

Now onto the Red Rose Mansion. Fans figured out that the Břevnovský klášter (Brevnov Monastery) served as the main inspiration for the Red Rose Mansion. Unfortunately, the monk that is responsible for the visits was sick during my stay in Prague, and would not be coming back until after I left. You can see the exact room that was referenced for the murder scene in the websites I've linked below. I was a bit sad that I wasn't able to see it with my own eyes but I hope he has a speedy recovery. After all, this gives me a reason to visit this wonderful city again! Tip: Don't be an oblivious zoomer like me and bring cash with you to leave a small donation at the Bazilika svaté Markéty Antiochijské (Basilica of St. Margaret of Antioch). You can get a postcard with the picture of the monastery for about 10 koruna and I'm sure it helps with the maintenance of this beautiful place. Also, there is a small, cozy cafe on the territory and they have really tasty Medovnik cake!

The Rose Garden at the Mansion actually has no roses! It is actually a Cherry Garden, and can be visited at the Orangerie right behind the Monastery (tip: as far as I know it is only open on weekends and closes at 8pm). During this time of year it is obviously not blossoming however it was nice to visit nonetheless and walking in between the tall shrubs made me feel like I was Nina :p

As a bonus I wanted to add this picture of a hanging Sigmund Freud that absolutely startled me on my first day in Prague. Many fans have speculated that the character of Franz Bonaparta was inspired by him, given their similar looks and involvement with Psychology

I hope this was enjoyable and I hope you visit these amazing places if you ever happen to be in Prague! Once again, I'd like to highlight how grateful I am for the research fans have done and as mentioned above here are some of the websites I used:

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Alastair Mordey

Published: Jun 4, 2023

You may have noticed over the last decade a steady increase in the promiscuous use of the word ‘trauma’. A word that once referred exclusively to grievous injuries of body and mind (gun-shot wounds, PTSD, that sort of thing) can now describe virtually anything. Psychotherapists and clinical psychologists are the main super-spreaders of this hyperbolic virus, though educators, politicians and of course celebrities are now getting in on the act.  

But trauma is more than just an annoying buzz word. Its inexorable creep into common parlance is the culmination of aa sustained campaign to politicise healthcare that has been going on for 30 years. Along the way it has resurrected some of Sigmund Freud’s more bizarre theories about childhood development, and married them with social justice concerns to become what is effectively a secular religion. 

Anyone who is familiar with the work of Sigmund Freud knows that his psycho-sexual theories developed in two distinct stages. The first posited that people who were mentally or emotionally unwell had repressed traumatic memories (almost always of sexual abuse in their childhood). He eventually gave up on this theory. In its stead he developed his equally infamous theory of infantile sexuality, in which children experienced sexual feelings through different erogenous zones during distinct stages of their development. It may surprise and horrify you to learn that both theories are alive and well in the current mental healthcare establishment, where they have been rebranded into a pseudoscientific theory about childhood trauma that leads to brain damage, addiction, and disease. 

This Freudian reformation began in the 1990s with the Adverse Childhood Experiences Study. The ACE study as it became known, was conducted between 1995 and 1997. The lead researcher was a physician called Vincent Felitti, who worked at Kaiser Permanente’s Department for Preventative Medicine in San Diego. Dr Felitti ran a weight loss programme at Kaiser, and he had a problem. His obese patients kept dropping out. Not only that, it was the ones who were doing well who were dropping off the most. Confused by this, Felitti conducted follow up interviews with as many of those patients as he could, and what he found was shocking. Out of the 286 interviews, a significant amount reported that they had been sexually abused as children. These revelations caused Felitti to reflect on Freud’s psycho-sexual theories. What if his patients had grown up using their obesity as a protective mechanism to deter sexual predation? Maybe that was why they were unwilling to lose too much weight. Or what if comfort eating was some kind of self-medication? An ‘oral fixation’ which compensated for the nurturing they should have received as children? 

Inspired by these hypotheses, Felitti approached colleagues at the Center for Disease Control and set about designing the ACE study. The study asked some 17,000 patients in California’s healthcare system ten questions about adverse experiences in their childhood (which they dubbed ACEs). Specifically they asked them questions about three types of abuse (physical, sexual, and psychological); two types of neglect (physical and emotional); and five different types of household dysfunction (exposure to mental illness, substance abuse, domestic violence, criminal behaviour, and divorce or separation of parents). Those ‘ACE scores’ were then mapped onto the respondents’ current health status as adults. 

The results were stark. Children who experienced four or more of these ACEs were deemed two to four times more likely to smoke, and four to 12 times more likely to become alcoholic or drug addicted as adults, compared to people with an ACE score of zero. Further, the study found that high ACE scores were strongly correlated with ischemic heart disease, cancer, chronic lung disease, and even skeletal fractures later in life. It seemed that childhood trauma wasn’t just causing obesity. It was causing all manner of addictions and health problems in later life. 

Over the following decade Dr Felitti became something of a hero to mental health professionals. Helping professionals like counsellors and psychologists are almost overwhelmingly left-leaning, so Felitti’s work was well received in such circles. It seemed to vindicate their convictions that social ills like health inequality and addiction had purely sociological causes, and could therefore be solved only by direct government action. 

By the end of the decade the ACE study was so lauded that organisations like the World Health Organisation were adopting the concept. In 2012, they issued their own questionnaire (the ACE-IQ) which sought to measure ACEs across the globe. The WHO noted that ACEs can ‘disrupt early brain development and compromise functioning of the nervous and immune systems.’ So not only were ACEs causing actual organic disease, they were permanently rewiring the brain. As a result, large sums of money began pouring into research which sought to isolate the specific bio-markers of adverse childhood experiences, and the idea that early life adversity might be ‘biologically embedded’ took hold. 

By the 2010s the idea that childhood trauma causes physical illness began to seep its way into popular culture. Magazine and newspaper articles ran headlines linking childhood trauma to migraines, cancer, and autoimmune disease. Numerous cities across America (such as New Orleans and Baltimore) started initiatives to protect children from trauma induced brain damage. Universities and schools ran training seminars to create ‘ACE-awareness’ in their staff. In 2018, first minister Nicola Sturgeon gave an introductory speech to welcome some 2,000 delegates to the first ACE-Aware Nation conference in Scotland. She noted that ACEs can ‘affect children’s physical and mental health’ and vowed to make sure that ‘an understanding of ACEs is embedded right across our services.’ All of these initiatives cited the ACE study as their ‘proof’ that childhood trauma causes addiction, disease and mental illness. 

As of 2023, the original ACE study has been cited more than 15,000 times and ‘replicated’ in hundreds, if not thousands of other studies. But few have seriously questioned its findings, or indeed the veracity of the idea that trauma permanently damages the brain. To my mind the ACE study was misleading, both in the way it presented its findings and the types of questions it asked. The results have proved to be disastrous for the mental health of our increasingly fragile younger generations. 

For example, one of the ACE study’s initial findings was that a child who experienced four or more ACE’s was twice as likely to become a smoker than a child with an ACE score of zero, and that those risks climbed with additional ACE’s. What the blurb emanating from the study didn’t emphasise however, was that only a minority of people with four or more ACEs go on to smoke (13.5 per cent). Even lower rates of prevalence were observed with injection drug use and alcoholism (3.4 and 16.1 per cent respectively). Surely, if childhood trauma is the main cause of addiction, and especially injection drug use (as has been portrayed endlessly by trauma advocates such as Dr Gabor Maté, who recently gained notoriety for his televised ‘trauma-focused’ therapy session with Prince Harry) then we should be seeing more than a 3.4 per cent prevalence rate in those most effected. What this tells us as much as anything else, is that 85 to 95 per cent of traumatised children do not go on to become addicts, alcoholics, or even smokers. 

The way the ACE study presented its findings wasn’t the only problem. There were multiple problems with the questionnaire itself. When we look at the wording of the questionnaire, what we find is that many of these so-called ‘adversities’ weren’t actually that traumatic at all. They were subjective, vague, and a virtual open invitation to self-indulgence and grievance. Take question one for example: 

‘Did a parent or other adult in the household often, or very often, swear at you, insult you, put you down, or humiliate you, or act in a way that made you afraid that you might be physically hurt?’ 

This is a hopelessly wide-ranging question. Given that the ACE questionnaire was quantitative, not qualitative, respondents could only answer yes or no. So if a respondent ‘felt like’ they had been frequently ‘put down’ by their parents during childhood, they could answer yes and would then be categorised as having suffered ‘psychological abuse’. 

Question two asked: ‘Did a parent or other adult in the household, often, or very often, push, grab, slap, or throw something at you, or ever hit you so hard that you had marks or were injured?’ 

Obviously a simple ‘yes’ leaves us completely in the dark as to whether the respondent was beaten up repeatedly by a brutal step father, or simply ‘grabbed’ on occasion by his long-suffering single mother who was fed up with him smoking dope in his room. Nevertheless, any affirmative answer scored a point for ‘physical abuse’. 

Question four was particularly weak: ‘Did you often, or very often, feel that no one in your family loved you or thought you were important or special – or [that] your family didn’t look out for each other, feel close to each other, or support each other?’ Surely this is describing the majority of the planet?  

As for the idea that childhood adversity is toxic to the brain, this is actually a radical claim with little in the way of real evidence. In his brilliant book The Trouble with Trauma, child psychiatrist Michael Scheeringa explains why evidence for the stress-damages-the-brain-theory is so thin on the ground. The only reliable evidence that would clearly demonstrate a link between trauma and subsequent changes in the brain, he says, would be a study that captures brain images before and after the trauma (a pre-trauma prospective study followed by another one after the event). Currently, there are very few of these studies due to the obvious fact that it is not ethical to induce trauma.  

Instead there are lots of cross sectional studies. These studies look at brains after the trauma has occurred, but have no way of knowing what the brain looked like before the trauma (e.g. whether the person had an undersized amygdala, over-active pre-frontal cortex, or other neurological disability which might predispose them to a heightened traumatic response). The few before and after studies that do exist seem to point towards pre-dispositional vulnerabilities. Predisposition has also, so far at least, been the most successful theory explaining other psychiatric conditions like depression, schizophrenia, anxiety and bipolar disorder. 

So the trauma damages the brain theory is the outlier here, and it is frankly incredible that governments, top tier universities, and entire professions have placed all their eggs into this big Freudian-hypothesis basket.  

The reasons for this bias are fairly obvious however. Pre-disposition points to genes, a less headline-grabbing area of study, and therefore not as useful for raising funds for trendy political healthcare projects.  

In the DSM-5 (The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, Fifth Edition) trauma is defined as a psychiatric disorder (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) which has horrendous and unmistakable symptoms. These symptoms occur (in some individuals) after being exposed to ‘actual or threatened death, serious injury or sexual violence.’ Things that are certainly outside the realm of ‘normal human experience’. Psychiatrists have known this since the Vietnam war. 

Nevertheless, since the 1990s psychiatrists under the sway of social justice politics (and bolstered by the findings of the ACE study) have been attempting to nudge a more watered-down version of trauma into the DSM. This includes ‘complex-trauma’, ‘developmental-trauma’, ‘relational- trauma’, and other snappy, made-up disorders. These ‘knock-off’ versions of PTSD have proven to be scientifically unverifiable, and have been rejected for inclusion in the DSM on multiple occasions, but nevertheless, they remain incredibly popular with clinicians and the public because they like them, and because they fit with what they believe. This concept creep around trauma is a perfect example of how bad, unscientific ideas can completely capture the zeitgeist when they peddle the right narrative. 

If this politicisation of psychology is not successfully challenged, I have grave fears for what the consequences will be. If we don’t stop using the word trauma, then those who suffer from real trauma (women who’ve been raped, children who’ve been burned, soldiers who’ve been blown up by mines) will have to share their services with those who, frankly speaking, don’t deserve them. And, people with addictions and other conditions that could be turned around with the right treatment will fail, because they are being protected and wrapped up in cotton wool by health professionals who are using them to fulfil their own professional and ideological goals. This cult of trauma must be stopped.  

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interlude Chapter 2

Previous | First | Next

Master Post

After quickly speaking to the rest of the group, Englehart did the best he could to organize an impromptu ceremony. Ideally this would have been done in the Singing Storm Tower, but he recognized that Dragoslava and Kresimira had been using the vast libraries inside it in addition to things not being ready. Plus it was a nice day out. The royal mages set up a series of magic broadcasting devices and the king snapped his fingers to dispel the storm around the tower. There was no need for it now. The group lined up with the nobles and the royal guard as audience. People nearby even paused what they were doing to watch.

“Are we on the air, as you youngsters say?” The king asked.

“Give us one second… and… There! We should be good to go, your majesty” one of the royal mages replied.

Englehart cleared his throat. “Most excellent. Greetings everyone. If you are busy, feel free to continue your work. Listening in will suffice. It has been years since we last set foot in our glorious city and… well, I should’ve recognized that the great hunt was just a ruse. All of you have my greatest apologies for that blunder. Thankfully the Source smiled upon us and delivered a group of valiant protectors to safeguard the Iron City.”

Radovan spoke next. “Yes indeed. Leading the group were my daughters and Barna’s son, Corentin. I cannot begin to express how proud of our children we are. Of course they weren’t alone. Drago rescued Desislav Robles, a proud satyr who looked after the three and assisted them greatly. Following that was Blood-Wraith, the newest member of the Raynot family. His unyielding bravery despite his age was invaluable. And it is an honor to know that Tusk Willfort, son of Sigmund Willfort, joined the team to tutor Blood and even gave his own arm to stop the Lich. An unexpected addition, Vlastimir Dracul, lent his blade during the darkest hour and helped turn the tide of battle. As for Ekaterina and Vexation, they have sworn fealty to the king despite having previously served our enemy. We welcome them with open arms…”

“If I may speak, father…” Blood-Wraith jumped in. “...we couldn’t have done this without Lief.” A tear ran down his cheek.

Radovan smiled. “Right you are, Blood. Ladies and Gentlemen, one hero could not be with us today. The Dragon of Old made the battle with the Lich his final act before passing on, "Wherever he is now, may he rest in peace.”

“His deeds shall not go in vain” Englehart continued. “The fight with Dunja is not over, but for now we can rest easy knowing that we are united with some of the bravest and finest souls we have ever seen. Kresimira, Corentin, Dragoslava, Desislav, Blood-Wraith, Tusk, Vlastimir, Ekaterina, Vexation, and Leif: Thank you for everything that you have done.” With that, the audience applauded and cheered. This made the group feel warm and triumphant.

After some closing remarks, everyone returned to their homes. Vlastimir and Ekaterina were the exception, but Englehart invited them to stay in the tower for the time being. Over at Blood-Wraith’s house, he was sitting in the living room with Aureolus and Vexation. He was crying, but this was out of joy for all that he had done. The other two expected this. Upon getting his emotions out, Blood-Wraith composed himself and was able to speak properly again. Vexation was a bit concerned, however. How this boy was able to handle all of that was beyond him at the moment.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Blood?” Aureolus asked.

“If you need to talk about your feelings further, you’re more than welcome to do so” Vexation proposed.

Blood-Wraith sniffled. “No, I’m alright now… that was just a lot to take in.”

“Well don’t worry about people showing up out of the blue. A lot want to thank you personally, but uncle Englehart asked everyone to give you some space” Aureolus assured.

“Really? Oh well, I don’t think…” Blood-Wraith was cut off by the door bell ringing.

“Now who could that be? I hope that it’s something important…” Vexation wondered.

“Come in…” Blood-Wraith called out.

Standing in the doorway was a 5’5 foot tall tree person with long hair and two horns… who promptly rushed over to Blood-Wraith. “Mr. Fire!” She exclaimed as she hugged and swung him around. “Oops, sorry. I should probably call you Blood now…”

“Hey, Auda! Is that… is… you’re so tall now! I… have we been gone for that long?”

She laughed. “Ha, no. It’s just that… um, Blood… I’m actually 12 years old.” She set him down. “That mean, old Lich had me all scared to grow up… but you fixed that, hehe.”

“Fascinating…” Vexation quietly remarked.

Blood-Wraith nodded in acceptance. “Well that makes two of us that have changed.”

“Yeah! I can see that. Maybe I should try that ULTRAMagic-thingy too… Speaking of that, I came here to get Uncle Tusk. Grandpa wants to see him. Want to come along?”

“Oh, sure… wait! Auda, this is Aureolus and Vexation. Aureolus? Vex? This is Auda. She’s Tusk’s niece.”

“Hi there!” Aureolus welcomed.

Vexation shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same here. Alright, Blood, let’s go. Grandpa’s also eager to see you again!”

Tusk was waiting nearby with a cab hailed by Radovan. They were swiftly driven to the edge of the city where they began their walk to The Unending Forest. Tusk felt weird going back so soon as he carried his backpack full of scrolls and books. He did not want to argue with his father’s wishes, however. This was great for Blood-Wraith as he wanted to tell Sigmund about his plans. As for Auda, she was happy to have her uncle back home. She did not want him to go away for too long.

Sigmund was waiting at the gates of the village. “Tusk, my boy! When I said you needed to do something with yourself, I didn’t mean go out and save the entire Cosmos, haha! Come here!” He gave him a big hug. “You’ve done your old man proud!”

“Thanks, dad… Can I come home now? I got a bunch of stuff to read and study…”

“Of course you can. What happened to your arm though?”

Tusk looked at his stone arm once again. “It’s complicated and something I will never do again.”

Sigmund sighed. “Well either way, come on in, all of you. And Blood! You must tell me all about your ULTRAMagic.”

The three followed the chief, with various villagers warmly greeting Tusk and Blood-Wraith. “Chief, there’s something I want to do…”

“And what’s that, Blood?” Sigmund asked as he let the three into his home.

“I’m going to the Magician’s Labyrinth to find my mother. And while I’m there, I’m going to locate Tusk’s mother.”

Sigmund looked at Blood-Wraith with shock. “He’s serious, dad,” Tusk stated.

“By the gods, boy, even after all you just went through?” Sigmund questioned.

Auda was surprised. “Whoa, you think you can find grandma Thora, Blood?”

Blood-Wraith swallowed. “Yes. Yes I do. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Sigmund pondered his thoughts on the matter. “You’ll need help, preferably someone that’s been there before…”

Everyone thought about who it could be. Blood-Wraith then had an idea. “Oh! Drago and Kresimira have mentioned Brenna Thompson. She helped escort us back to the city.”

“Yes, I have heard of her adventures, especially to the Magician’s Labyrinth. She’s even been to the village a few times before” Sigmund recalled.

“I’ll go too!” Auda blurted out.

“Oh no you don’t, young lady.”

“Agreed. No, it’s way too dangerous” Tusk added.

Donia then walked into the room. “Ha, good luck trying to stop her…”

“Donia, there you are. What took you so long, lass?” Sigmund asked.

“Sorry, I had to clean up an experiment. Tusk, sweetie, what happened to your arm?”

Tusk went over and hugged her tightly. “Sorry about that, Donia. Things got complicated. That was… That was scary…”

After some much needed consoling, the five sat down and discussed Blood-Wraith’s plans. Sigmund knew Thora was still alive. He could sense her as they spoke. What she was doing was unclear and so was the why. Thora was known for getting sidetracked, but this must have been truly momentous to cause her to forget her mission. Originally she went to the Magician’s Labyrinth to find answers to the problem with the Lich. Her failure to return shook the village and made the future uncertain. Tusk took it the hardest…

“Knowing what I found in the Unspeaker’s libraries, I can’t say I blame mom for whatever she found…”

“What do you think it could be?” Blood-Wraith inquired.

Sigmund stroked his beard. “The Forest and I have speculated on this. It believes she encountered Rose Raynot who may have stumbled on Deimos’ old research. What that is eludes us, however. The Forest dares not find out.”

Donia glanced at Tusk’s books. “Hey, Tusk… you wouldn’t have happened to…”

“If the answer is in those, I have yet to find it.”

“Grandma and Mrs. Raynot probably found a new Unlight to explore” Auda put forth.

“Rose is a duchess, sweetie,” Donia clarified.

“Whoops, sorry, hehe…”

They talked for a bit longer until dinner time rolled around. Sigmund invited Blood-Wraith to eat with them, but he needed to get back to the city. Still, he encouraged Blood-Wraith to bring the group along sometime so he could commemorate them in his own ceremony. Not wanting to bother anyone, Blood-Wraith took on his dragon form once he was out of the forest and flew back to his home. Many saw this and were amazed at his abilities. At the house were Aureolus and Vexation who were waiting for him.

“Hey guys, what’s up?”

“Blood, dad wants us to eat over at his place” Aureolus replied.

“Mr. Schindewolf was most insistent,” Vexation confirmed.

That was fine with him. Aureolus led the two to a large, barn-like building and knocked on a door at the side. They were greeted by Corentin. “Hey there, come on in. Mind the mess and watch your feet…” There were tools, abandoned projects, forges, anvils, and bags of coal all over the place. The four made their way to a set of stairs that took them to the upper loft. Things were still a bit messy, but were a lot more homey. The guests sat down in the living room which overlooked the workshop. It was a pretty nice view all things considered. Corentin then switched places with his father, who had been in the kitchen.

“Hello, lads, glad you all could make it. You’ll have to forgive the clutter. I was in the middle of an order when the great hunt started.”

“That’s quite understandable, Mr. Schindewolf…”

“Ah, no need to be formal, Vex. You can call me by my name.”

“As you wish, Barna. I must say that I’m quite impressed with your projects, despite their unfinished state.”

“Really now? Well thanks. You fancy yourself a blacksmith?”

“No, but I did work with The Blacksmith of Old on occasion. Your work is very reminiscent of his.”

Barna nodded. “Ah, I see. As for tonight’s dinner, how does pulled pork, mashed potatoes, and seasoned steamed vegetables sound?” Everyone liked this.

“Hey, Barna? Does your blacksmithing make use of magic?” Blood-Wraith inquired.

“It can and I’m glad you asked. Blood, I’d like to teach you and Aureolus some of my alchemical skills, if you’d be interested.”

Blood-Wraith thought about this for a moment. “Sure, that’d be great. Aureolus?”

“Yup. I mean, dad has already shown me some cool stuff already, ha.”

“Father! Food’s done” Corentin called out.

“Very good, dining table’s right over there, lads. Just let Corentin know what you’ll drink and we’ll get started.” Barna hurried into the kitchen as the three seated themselves, ready to eat.

Next: Chapter 3

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

The call of cthulhu

Chapter 7:

I got my brother to play the shambler part, it took 4 months before either remembered it, but it's done, thank god.

*the nameless bookstore *

"Alrighty bois, here we are, what's up"

"Uh oh, blood on the window"

"Oh yeah, let's close the door aggressively, surely that didnt make a noise and potentially alert whatever or whomever is in here"

"Ugh, sigmund Freud. Or I, dont really know anything about him, just the whole sexist something"

"Yeah because, walking around with a lighter around all these books seems like a brilliant idea"

"Eww, wtf is that?? Looks like a huge bug"

"Bleeeh i hate it ew ew ew"

Pierce, picks up a book: how many volumes are there in this collection?

*Also pierce picking up every red book and repeats the same thing*

Game: wanna read the book?

Me: since you're asking I feel I should say no

Game:

Me:

Game:

Me: yeah alright

Game: this will affect your destiny

Me: well fuck. I hope it's for the better

"Ooooh, I had to listen to the tube things, and now the red books are interesting"

Pierce: a strange amulet... I have a feeling that I'd better not touch it

Also pierce: *picks it up*

"Oh? I got an achievement for picking up an occult thing"

"I'm stuck"

"9th volume, I'm looking for the 9th volume"

"He said he cant stop reading it... so it should be somewhere he could sit"

"Ew the bugs"

"My amnesia lamp is dying fast"

"The ghostly fog around the lamps are so creepy"

"Am I looking for a book that doesnt exist?"

"Oh wait, it says that they're numbered, the tube sound things"

"  'Order is the pleasure of reason, but disorder is the delight of the imagination'  huh, I like that quote"

The game: the clues of the combination are to be found in three cylinders, each hidden where life and study combine in the greek world

Me: I got them

Game: each cylinder is numbered-

Me: yeah

Game: yeah :)

Me: what?

Game: :)

Me: sir-

"OH OH WAIT OH OKAY, NUMBERED! AS IN NOT JUST 1, 2 AND 3, BUT LIKE SERIAL NUMBER, OH ALRIGHT I GOT IT"

"I'm such a smart cookie"

"Gotta find myself a cookie monster"

"Wait.. no no nevermind I take it back"

"Asdfghjkl Hannibal is the cookie monster"

"Alrighty gang, first thing"

"One= 10342

Two= .. wait, okay I thought I was onto something here but they're all labelled the same number?"

"No wait"

"Oh no, yeah, the same, ffs"

"Let's try anyways"

"Okay but, theres a glowing star there, it pushed the love child of cthulhu away, and you're like? 'Hell yeah lets touch it'??? This entire game is just Pierce being insane"

"When me and Odin (lil bro who helped me) talked about this game, both would've just gone nah, and just, ya know x.x

Not that we would ON PURPOSE investigate here at all, but after all Pierce have seen? Nah, nah man"

"Didnt work, I mean ofc it didnt"

"I dont have that many brain cells to solve anything with numbers"

"I can do this, I'm sure..  I mean I cant, but let's pretend"

"I can get pleasantly surprised"

"Okay, I have to be missing something"

"Oooh, maybe the love child of cthulhu took book nr 9?"

"If this is as easy as the globe one? I'm gonna go cry"

"Aaaa idk the codddddeeeee"

"So code 666, 616 and 404, does not work"

"I gotta Google "

"Excuse me??"

• Cylinder 1 - Cylinder 1 - regards the Goblet from this room. Indicated number 5. "How??? How does that indicate 5???"

• Cylinder 2 - regards chessboards on the table and the chess pieces defending the queen. Indicates number 3.

"???? WHAT IS THIS GAME"

• Cylinder 3 - regards the books you can find on the counter and to the total amount. Indicates number 9.

"WELL WO-FUCKING-HOO"

"This game is difficult"

"Cthulhu is mocking me, I'm sure"

"Yay. I opened it to find the forbidden book"

"And now he's gonna read it, wow, sure, toss all that stuff down to the floor"

"Oh great, eye of sauron"

"Ooo, floating books and?? Weeeee~"

Chapter 8: Institute

"Yaaaay... more hospital insanity, woo"

"Oh, his mind was projected into another body? Oh yeah because Pierce needs body dysphoria added to all his ptsd"

"Oh cool, I'm a woman now, and my name is... Marie Colden."

"Okay so this dying dude, got something in his body, they joked about him being pregnant.... yoo"

"Oh ew, hes mutating"

"The extra nurse is just watching them talk about illegal things"

"I hate first pov"

Me, whispering: i dont know what that word means

"Nightmare city"

"Eaugh the food looks like... I dont even wanna say it"

"Oooh, I get to see from her pov. I thought this was like a new thing"

"Oh damn, Pierce is down there living through hell, and I'm running around looking at books"

"I got an achievement for healing all the patients"

"I'm just looking for a tool"

"Aha!"

"I'm calling it, the young woman who wash the bathrooms are gonna die"

"??? I WAS STABBED"

"I'm back as the idiot detective!"

"The book dealer guy! Drake! Got a gun on me!"

"I got an achievement that said I fell into Fuller's trap :("

"I only think of Brian Fuller "

"I got a rare achievement because I keep reading the cursed books, oh jesus why am I like this"

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back"

"If I was pierce, I'd invest in shoes that doesnt tap"

Pierce: enough time wasted-

Me: I AM TRYING TO FIND THE WAY OUT YOU SHIT

"Oh fuck oh wow"

"Oh, ah.... hh... scary scene... I wish I could record my scream there hahh, it wasnt a AAA it had two sets in it, wow ooof"

"Okay okay, I managed to get past the ??? That was, and I'm finally back to normal, I'm just gonna see if I die, and maybe I'll just game more another day"

"I'm in a hallway... no matter where i run, theres no end"

"Who's singing?"

"I even tried to run backwards"

"What if I stand still?"

"Or I'll close my eyes and run into every door"

"Okay okay uh, inside the patted room"

"Going insane !!"

"Ah, okay so, surgery, fun"

"W h a t  T h e  f u c k "

"SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST SHOOT WHY ARE YOU HESITATING????"

"???? Marie, zombie??? Marie just knocked me out, wtf is this"

"OKAY SO"

"Crazy painting woman is alive, alright. Husband is the cthulhu love child, the doctor is clearly in love with her... we're running from guards.... and I think??? We're gonna gas them...."

"Okay.... uh.... so, Sarah is... the key to get cthulhu.... and her husband, tried to "protect" her, and hes dead, combined effort... and now we're in chapter 9.

[school56df]

how to personal development for self improvement

This page is part of a series of articles covering relaxation techniques especially suited to managing and reducing stress. 

If you are worried about your stress levels or those of somebody you know then you should seek professional help from a doctor or counsellor.  Stress left untreated can be dangerous to your health and wellbeing.

Self-hypnosis or hypnotherapy can be a successful way of reducing stress and opening the mind to new ideas or thought processes, especially when dealing with problem behaviour such as certain addictions. 

Hypnotherapy is essentially a way of reprogramming how we think.  There are many self-hypnosis resources available including CDs, tapes, MP3s and other recordings.  Before using any such materials ensure that the recordings have been produced by a reputable and trained hypnotherapist.   Before attempting any self-hypnosis read this page fully and understand the processes involved.

A Brief History of Modern Hypnosis

There exists a lot of scepticism and suspicion around the subject of hypnotism, especially in Western cultures. This scepticism stems partly from hypnosis being used as a form of entertainment and also from some of the original theories on the subject. 

Franz Anton Mesmer is often considered the forefather of modern hypnosis theory and probably responsible for some of the scepticism surrounding the subject.  Mesmer, a German physician, had a keen interest in astronomy and believed that there was an invisible force - a channel for energy - to be transferred between all objects in the universe.  This ‘cosmic energy’ coming from celestial bodies could be harnessed by one person to influence the behaviour of another.  Mesmer called the result of this energy transference ‘mesmerism’ which explains the origin of the word ‘mesmerise’.  We now know that Mesmer’s theory was utter nonsense but his ideas may still influence how hypnosis and hypnotherapy are regarded today.

Today, however, hypnotism has been accepted by conventional medicine as a way to treat a number of problems including: relieving stress and therefore high-blood pressure, migraines, sleep disorders and helping people to beat addictions, such as smoking.  Furthermore, hypnosis and hypnotherapy can be used to help boost self-esteem and personal confidence as well as to overcome related problems, such as a fear of public speaking.  Today hypnosis is taught in colleges worldwide and has become one of the most popular and widely known complimentary medical techniques.

How Hypnotherapy Works

Based on the work of Sigmund Freud - the human mind can be split into three distinct areas of consciousness; the conscious, subconscious and unconscious.  It can be useful to think of each part of the mind on a scale of depth. 

Freud believed that the conscious mind is the top or shallowest part of the mind and is responsible for making sense of the things we are directly aware of – like stress levels. 

The subconscious mind is below consciousness most of the time, a deeper level – it is therefore not so easily accessible and controls how we may feel or react to certain situations or circumstances, based on what we have learnt through experience, in the past.    It also controls and regulates our essential bodily functions, such as breathing. 

The unconscious mind is the deepest part of our mind and is much more difficult to reach – it can include suppressed memories of traumatic events. 

(See our page Counselling Approaches for more information about the role and approach of the psychodynamic counsellor).

Hypnotism works by reaching a relaxed state whereby it is possible to sink deeper into our minds and rewrite or reprogram our subconscious. 

Through physical and mental relaxation, self-hypnosis can allow people to bypass their conscious minds and introduce positive thoughts and ideas into their unconscious.  Upon ‘awakening’ from the hypnotic state the new thoughts and ideas in the subconscious will, eventually, affect the conscious mind and can, in turn, lead to changed behaviours.  

Hypnotherapy does not claim to be a ‘quick fix’, such methods require perseverance and practice in order for the subconscious mind to pick up and apply the new messages.

[best-sexologist-in-patna]

In Regard to Most Famous Sexologist in Patna, Bihar | Dr. Sunil Dubey

Nowadays sexual problems have increased in both men and women. Looking at their personal health problems, world famous sexologist Dr. Sunil Dubey is going to tell something important facts about the sexual dysfunctions. We hope that this fact will surely will be helping you to solve your sexual problems.

Mostly people in the geographical worldwide search for the most famous sexologist in world and they get the name of the defunct Alfred Charles Kinsley (1894-1956) who was an American Sexologist, Biologist, and Professor of entomology and zoology. He also founded the institute for Sex Research at Indiana University which is today known as Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender, and Reproduction.  

Apart from him, there are many notable names of sexologist doctors whose fame and contribution had been great in the sexology medical sciences referred by wikipedia. These names are following:-

Karl Heinrich Ulrichs (1825–1895)

Karl Friedrich Otto Westphal (1833–1890)

Richard Freiherr von Krafft-Ebing (1840–1902)

Albert Eulenburg (1840–1917)

Auguste Henri Forel (1848–1931)

Sigmund Freud (1856–1939)

For now, we are going to discuss about the most famous sexologists of India, especially Patna and Bihar. Therefore we focus our attention completely towards Patna, the capital of Bihar. But before knowing the facts of sexologist doctors, we should always be clear about their medicine and treatment so that sexual patients can get permanent solution.

There are three types of sexologist doctors are available for the sexual patients:

Ayurvedic Sexologist – provides Ayurveda Medicine

Allopathic Sexologist – provides allopathic medicine

Homeopathic Sexologist – provides homeopathy medicine

We all know that Ayurveda is natural way of medicine and it cures problems naturally. It has a permanent solution and all the supplements of this medicine are based on natural resources and features. In today's time, the demand for senior and experienced Ayurvedic sexologists has increased not only in India but also abroad. The specialty of this naturopathy medicine is that it does not have any side-effect on body and any type of patient can use this medication to improve their sexual and physical health.

Except Ayurveda Medicare, there is no permanent solution to sexual diseases in allopath or homeopathy medicine. Being a medical service provider, we do not say improper things about any medicine but each has its own importance.

About famous sexologist in Patna, Bihar India:

If you live in Patna, Bihar then you will definitely enjoy reading this article. If you are living in India, you will also get facts about medicines for your sexual health. You can easily choose your best sexual healthcare unit and get your exact way of treatment.  

Dubey Clinic and Dr. Sunil Dubey both complement each other. Dr. Sunil Dubey is a world renowned name in the profession of sexology and Ayurveda medical science. He has been a Gold Medalist, Bharat Gaurav Award Winner, Biharshree Award Winner, Best Sexologist Doctor of Asia, Best Sexologist of India, and Titled with Ayurvedacharya.

The world famous sexologist in Patna Dr. Sunil Dubey has treated more than three lakh sexual patients of India as a ratio of male and female is 70:30. He also cured the abroad sexual patients like Saudi Arab, USA, UK, Dubai, Nepal, and so on. He is a successful Ayurveda Medical Science Researcher, Senior Sexologist, Sexual Counselor, and Ayurveda Specialist at the same time.

The Specialty of Sexologist Dr. Sunil Dubey:-

He has completed his Bachelor of Ayurvedic Medicine and Surgery Course from Ranchi University. After that, He has completed his Doctor of Philosophy in Ayurveda and was titled with Ayurvedacharya by Indian Research Council. He has been involved with Membership of Research Health Society.

He is a highly qualified and experienced sexologist doctors in India who treats all types of sexual patients like mental, psychological, medical, and chronic issues. In today's time, more than three lakh sexual patients of India have availed of this famous sexologist doctor's medication and treatment.

Dubey Clinic is Bihar’s No-1 Ayurveda Medical Clinic that is certified and approved for all the quality purpose. He practices at this clinic and prepares the medication at Dubey Lab. He treats more than fifty sexual patients every day at Dubey Clinic where both male and female sexual patients come.

The sexual patients from all over India can contact this clinic over phone and get their exact solution. The appointment is available over phone, take your appointment and visit the clinic.

With best wishes:

Dubey Clinic

A Certified Clinic of India

Dr. Sunil Dubey, Senior Sexologist of India & Gold Medalist Sexologist

Helpline No: +91 98350 92586; +91 91555 55112

Venue: Dubey Market, Langar Toli Chauraha, Patna-04

Location: https://maps.app.goo.gl/SJX9u61BNbHh68HW8

Gmail ID: dubeyclinicpatna@gmail.com

[sillysnack]

therapy with yosano akiko 🤞

summary: the closest thing to therapy that tanizaki junichirou could get was pretending to be injured so they could confide in yosano.

notes: tanizaki uses they/them, they're dating atsushi akutagawa and tachihara (mentioned, but these characters don't appear in the story). warning for implied tanizaki sibling incest. i also wrote this on a whim so🧑‍💻 sorry (i guess) to tanizaki naomi

junichirou hastily sits up, trying their best to remove their sister's arm around their waist. they don't want to wake her up.

junichirou stands up and looks at their side of the bed. they grimace.

as far as junichirou knows, the tanizaki siblings could well afford two beds at this point in their lives. but to their dismay, naomi refuses. she's saying that they should save up. the space they lived in was small (an apartment unit not too far from the agency's dormitory).

in regards of junichirou's proposal to buy another bed, naomi would often answer with: "wouldn't two beds make their house a little tight...er? we need space to move in too, you know!"

junichirou couldn't argue with their sister's logic. although deep down, both siblings knew that wasn't the case.

junichirou knew they both needed therapy, but the closest thing to therapy that the redhead could get was pretending to be injured so they could confide in yosano.

.

.

.

junichirou limps their way to the agency's infirmary. they hold their leg, pretending to have been stabbed on the leg. if anyone asked, junichirou would simply answer they had been the victim of an attempted mugging.

they weakly knock on the door. "come in," yosano says. junichirou closes the door behind them before making their way to a hospital bed and sitting on it.

yosano grabs a machete and asks, "what's the problem now?"

junichirou lets go of their leg. "nothing. it's one of those again."

ah.

yosano nods. "did something come up?"

junichirou shakes their head. "nothing, i guess. i've just been thinking."

yosano sighs. "sigmund freud would have studied you two." junichirou creases their eyebrows in confusion. "the guy who–"

junichirou slowly nods. "i know who he is. i've just been wondering about naomi and i... lately, i've been wanting to be alone but i also feel guilty for doing so. it doesn't help that she would get mad at me if i bring up the idea of sleeping in different rooms."

yosano replies, "sounds like codependency."

junichirou shakes their head. "that can't be. sure, we depend on each other, but not in that sense. naomi's the only family i have."

yosano rests her face on her palm. "and the agency? your partner? or perhaps... partners?"

junichirou freezes in their seat, blood slowly rushing to their cheeks. they meekly avoid eye contact with the doctor.

yosano whispers, "ranpo tells me things. love is complicated, dear. you date a coworker and you two date two guys from the mafia, you subconsciously have the same relationship with your sister. now, pretend i'm treating you."

junichirou opens their mouth to talk. yosano starts her chainsaw but aims it away from the both of them. her voice is stern as she sways the chainsaw in the redhead's direction, "i said: pretend i'm treating you."

junichirou gulps before they yell and yosano tries to stop herself from laughing. she turns off the chainsaw and junichirou's yelling dies down. they then say, "naomi and i don't have that kind of–"

"be serious!" yosano takes a deep breath. her voice softens. "i'm sorry. look around you. look at the siblings around you, particularly those of opposite genders. kyouka and atsushi, what would you say their relationship is like?"

junichirou easily answers, "oh! brother and sister."

yosano nods. "and that of the akutagawas?"

junichirou furrows their eyebrows. "you know about them?" yosano nods once again.

yosano replies, "again, i get most of my gossip from ranpo. atsushi told me that one, though. by the way, never thought you had it in you to date, let alone three people! and two out of three are tachihara michizou and akutagawa ryunosuke... imagine the news headlines: members of the armed detective agency, dating two mafiosos?!" she laughs.

yosano gasps. "i can't believe atsushi would even date someone who's tried to kill him numerous times! the kid's interesting. tachihara, i understand to some extent but... wow..."

junichirou turns red. they cover their face with the sleeves of their red hoodie, although the image of that isn't all too different. his voice is laced with embarrassment, "can we not... talk about my love life?"

yosano smiles at them. "this is some therapy, no?" she remarks. "gossip that's also where we unpack your emotional baggage."

junichirou presses their hands to the mattress of the bed. they sigh. "yeah."

yosano crosses her arms. "i'm surprised you would talk to me about all this."

"why so?"

yosano shrugs. "i don't see you as the type to open up so quickly. i mean, i know this isn't the first time we've done this but it's still so sudden."

.

.

.

she clears her throat, yosano's tone of voice changes. it's serious. "our relationship, how would you describe it?"

junichirou bit their lower lip. how would they describe their relationship with the doctor? coworkers? no...

friends? perhaps junichirou would use that to refer to yosano when they spoke of her to other people.

sister? that makes sense. yosano is like their older sister.

yosano tilts her head. "do you have an answer yet?"

junichirou answers, "you're like my older sister. aside from atsushi, i'm the one who accompanies you most often on your errands. you give me advice on many topics... i also look up to you, and your ability. you also just give off the atmosphere of an older sister who would tease a lot but be serious when needed. like what you're doing right now." the two smile after.

yosano hums. "when you see people who act like you and naomi, for example, your boyfriends, you wouldn't call them siblings, no?"

junichirou nods. "of course no... ma'am?"

yosano glares at the redhead. "and you wouldn't be calling your older sister 'ma'am'! i'm only 25, tanizaki!"

junichirou jumps in their seat. "i'm sorry! it's just that naomi– i jokingly called her ma'am once and it kind of stuck whenever she would get mad at me."

.

.

.

"awkward." yosano says in a sing-song voice.

"what?"

"sorry, probably shouldn't've responded like that." yosano clears her throat before continuing, "we both know that our intelligence won't match up to that of ranpo's... but i think we both know what i'm implying."

junichirou doesn't respond. if yosano were another person, the conversation would've been immediately over– junichirou would be seething. why and how could anyone say that about naomi?

but they can't get mad. junichirou knows that yosano's right. they bury their face in their hands. she may not be an actual therapist, but yosano-sensei's good at this. i don't know what to feel.

yosano gives junichirou a smile, but it isn't one of happiness.

"how are you feeling?" she asks, but junichirou doesn't hear her. it was only a whisper, after all. yosano taps junichirou's shoulder. she asks the question again, louder this time for the boy to hear.

junichirou looks yosano in the eyes before shrugging. "numb. i think i need a drink."

yosano magically holds up two wine glasses in her left hand, and a bottle of wine in the right.

junichirou's blank expression quickly changes. "WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?"

yosano shrugs with a smile. "secret! i also have juice hidden here somewhere, if you're not a fan of drinking so early in the morning." she still holds the other wine glass for the redhead to grab.

junichirou holds the wine glass. "i think wine will do."

yosano pops open the bottle. "i guess you're suited to be my younger brother." she pours wine into their glasses. as she sips, she notices junichirou's tension and the unchaging amountof wine in their glass.

"don't waste the wine." yosano sternly says. junichirou quickly blinks their eyes before taking a huge gulp of their drink.

"can you... do this with naomi too?"

yosano swirls the glass in her hand. "drink? tanizaki junichirou, you know i can't do that."

junichirou shakes their head. "no! no! she doesn't drink. i mean, this... therapy-gossip thing? tell her it's some medical thing that i requested, i'm sure she'll comply."

yosano hums. "are you sure?"

the redhead shakes their head once again. "no... i suggested therapy for the both of us but she doesn't like it. or, i guess she doesn't want to."

yosano takes a sip of her drink. "interesting. well, i'll turn on the chainsaw again, okay? pretend i'm treating you."

junichirou nods. "wait." they pour themselves another glass of wine.

yosano widens her eyes. "nice! okay, now scream your heart out."

junichirou then does as told, they scream out every feeling bottled up inside of them.

[junowyear3]

27.07.22

Popular Culture: Warhol’s Stepchildren Elective

Theory today: find something that applies to you personally

Sigmund Freud 1856-1939

Founding father of psychoanalysis, method for treating mental illness and theory that explains human behaviour

“Governed by the forces of the unconscious’

The unconcious mind is the primary source of human behaviour.

Iceberg:

Conscious- small amount of mental activity we know about- thoughts and perceptions- what we are thinking about or experiencing at any given moment

Subconscious (just below surface)- things we could be aware of or if we wanted or tried- memories and stored knowledge- what we can readily recall

Unconscious- Things we are unaware of and cannot become aware of- Instincts/ thoughts, desires and impulses of which you are not aware: Fears, unacceptable sexual motivations, violent motives, irrational wishes, moral urges, selfish needs, shameful experiences, traumatic experience

Freud’s Psychoanalytic Theory:

ID: predetermined set of psychological needs, drives and instincts. Seeking pleasure and avoiding pain.

SUPEREGO: Internalization of the moral principles/ rules of society. The conscious. Controls the decisions we make

EGO: Awareness of ones self and ability to interact with the world. Balances the Id with the Superego. Your perfect self, sense of self where you want to be.

Person you should compare yourself to is your past self

Only person you need to be better than is the person you are now

Strength and self-confidence should not be sought around oneself, but within oneself. Don’t look for other people to validate you.

Repressed emotions to not die. They are silenced and continue to influence your life from within

Depression is nothing but frozen fear

Being completely honest with yourself is the best mental exercise

Pierre Bourdieu 1930-2002- Cultural Capital

Non-financial social assets that promote social mobility beyond economic means, such as education, intellect, style of speech, dress, and even physical appearance. 

Cultural Capital: Three interlocking/ overlapping models:

Institutionalized cultural capital- qualifications, titles, awards, honours

Embodied cultural capital- knowledge, language, accent, style, habits, tastes, beliefs, mannerisms

Objectified cultural capital- possessions, property

Think about the education you have come out of, what has it done in terms of giving you cultural capital?

[skenpiel]

watching a horror movie before bed will never do anything to me but if you make me watch like a documentary on ancient egypt i will start weeping out of plain fear and then not sleep for 3 days

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (7)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. mentions of the following (abortion, cheating, suicide, depression, illness, physical abuse, death), smoking, alcohol/intoxication, suggestive smut

notes. 20.3k words hello ?? and it’s a bit angsty maybe. i hope u enjoy and tysm if you’re still here despite my slow updates :’( likes and reblogs will be appreciated! also lmk how u guys feel abt this episode ;)

series masterlist -> episode eight

2 DAYS AGO

Sleep just didn’t exist in Satoru’s vocabulary anymore and it came to a point where none of the sleeping pills still worked as they should. He could barely remember the last time he had been able to rest comfortably, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber without being cannonaded by recurring nightmares that triggered most, if not all, of his traumatic childhood experiences. And since there was an enormous disparity between dreams and reality, Gojou believed that the reason he was losing his mind at the flashback of his memories was because he knew, deep inside him, that he wanted some of it to remain just as a figment of his imagination. Not an actual memory from an unbearable past, but a mere phantasm that held no long term effect on his current relationships. Why, if it would only ruin his life, should he accept the truth behind his sudden flood of memories?

According to Sigmund Freud’s theory on defense mechanisms, a person tends to unconsciously cling to psychological strategies so that they could protect themselves from having unacceptable thoughts or feelings. After a really traumatizing experience, our instinct is to put up a wall and keep ourselves isolated from the external force behind that barrier, which will then allow us to cope with the situation better even if it means distorting our realities to fit what is satisfactory to the human mind.

To make it simple: Gojou’s defense to his depressive flashbacks was to dissociate from the world by sugarcoating the graveness of the matter.

At first, when Satoru recalled the melancholic truth about his life for the past three years, he almost thought that he could actually go insane. Nanami and Miwa took him home that day, and required the presence of his mother to help calm him down while he was on the cusp of self-destruction. He had a breakdown as he screamed and cried about how he was made to believe that his son died, how he was forced to accept that his wife never carried their only child, and how the aforementioned reasons led him to his multiple attempts at committing suicide. It was cruel. He wanted to understand why you did that. He wanted to run to your house and demand an answer as to why you would lie to him like that. He wanted you to go on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. He wanted to destroy you for depriving him of a chance to be there to hear his son’s first word or guide him in his first steps. He wanted to know why you would take all that away from him.

And then he remembered who he was as a person before you made all those ‘selfish’ decisions.

If not for his mother, Nanami, and even Akemi who were with him all night trying to soothe him from the distress that he was going through, he wasn’t sure what he would have said and done if he did face you that night while he was still apoplectic about the return of his most devastating memories.

You see, there is a type of defense mechanism proposed by Sandor Ferenczi that is referred to as the ‘identification with the aggressor’ which—to put it simply—is the act of adopting the behavior of the person who abused them. When Satoru finally cooled off two days after his explosive episode as a volcano, the first thing he did was to visit ‘the aggressor’ that started all of this chaos in his life. The very father who lay still on his bed, forever dormant, living a monotonous and passive existence as though he was only waiting for death.

“Why are you still alive, Dad?” Greeting his father that way after not seeing him for three years should speak a lot about the kind of family dynamics they had. But Satoru was the calmest he had been for the past 48 hours, so the old man was still lucky that he wasn’t on the receiving end of his unfiltered rage. “You must be happy right now, huh? Your fucked up son has a broken family. You probably don’t even know that you have a grandson.”

As he stood next to his father’s bed, he eyed how the only things that were supporting his life were a tank of oxygen and a nasogastric tube. Ironic, wasn’t it? While granted that he had everything, he still couldn’t do anything but just die peacefully. The old man had all the money, status, and power in life, yet none of those were of much help when karma finally arrived to make him pay his dues. The man beat up his wife so much to the point of driving her away, forcing her to abandon a son who was left at the hands of an abusive father. The asshole didn’t just stop there. He also manipulated his son into thinking that he would never be acknowledged as the rightful heir of the Gojou Group if he didn’t fool and marry an innocent woman for the sake of acquiring their company. Satoru had choices in life and he shouldn’t blame his choices on another person when he himself decided on them. However, given that his father was a ruthless, selfish man, there wouldn’t have been an arranged marriage to begin with. There wouldn’t have been a spiteful son whose only way of coping from trauma was by being cold and heartless to the people he identified as the perpetrator of his suffering. If only his father truly loved his family in the beginning, none of this would have happened.

“How do you live each day knowing that your son hates you, Dad?” he asked the quadriplegic man, glaring down at him despite the tears that streamed down on the corner of his father’s eyes. He may not be able to move his limbs or open his mouth, but his eye movements were clear to Satoru that the man was tearful at the sight of his only son. “How do you live without guilt knowing that you physically abused both my mom and I?”

The said mother was on his side, caressing Satoru’s back in a motherly comfort. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Clenching his hands into fists, he wanted to return the violent strikes that his father used to inflict on him. Satoru wanted to leave bruises on his father’s vegetative body to feel that sense of retribution by making him feel the same type of physical, mental, and emotional distress that he had to go through because of him. After all, why should he feel sorry? He had all the right to go ballistic on him. Because of the kind of environment that he grew up in, Satoru himself adopted his father’s behavior and ended up abusing the woman he loved, although not physically, but emotionally.

It was about time that Satoru recognized his own shortcomings. He needed to acknowledge that the things he had done to you couldn’t be easily forgotten. Abuse didn’t just come in a physical form, but also emotionally and psychologically. The scar on his forearm was the perfect exemplification of the effect his actions had on you—of how he lacerated his arm and left a gash on his flesh, but despite the antiseptic gauze that temporarily covered his wounds, the scar would remain with him forever. Although in your case, that same scar was deep in your heart.

But… but… why put Sachiro in the middle of all of this?

You never truly ended up forgiving your husband. That, he could understand. But why did you have to let his son be fatherless for three years? You knew how much Satoru loved your baby when he was still in your womb. You knew how much he would offer his whole life just to nurture you and dote on you. Even if you were angry at him, you didn’t have to stage the termination of your pregnancy.

So… why?

“Satoru,” his mother called for his attention and tried to unclench his balled fist, patting his back and leading him to sit on a nearby couch, “Even if you wanna hit your father, it’s useless. Look at how he’s being punished for his sins. He’s forever paralyzed and unable to do anything but listen to you.”

Looking at his limp father whose eyes still continued to release faint tears, Satoru eventually had to let his anger cease for a moment. His mom was right on that one. What she wasn’t right about was her participation in lying to him about the divorce and the abortion. “You.” He looked up at his mother as those questions dominated his mind. “Why did you make her lie to me about the divorce?”

The woman drew in a deep breath and stood defensively. “We didn’t have much choice. Your doctor said that we should avoid triggering certain memories that could be detrimental to your state of mind,” she tried her best to explain, “We only did it for your sake, my son. You woke up remembering Y/N as your wife, so we couldn’t just tell it straight that you weren’t together anymore. You were very fragile.”

But still… “What about the abortion?” he questioned, finding it hard to swallow the sickening thought. “I nearly killed myself thinking that I lost my child, yet you knew that she kept him? You were aware that she’s been hiding him away from me—”

“No, darling, no. Mom only found out about it on the day of your accident. That’s the reason why you crashed your car because you called me after you knew about it.” His mother approached him in a restless stance, seemingly wanting to clear her name. “My son, listen carefully to me. None of us knew about it except her, her family, and your so-called friend, Ieiri. They all hid it from you. They made us believe that Sachiro never even existed.”

“But why?” Satoru could feel himself being pulled down by the gravitational force of his pain. “I understand that she wanted to run away from me, but why did she have to fake my child’s death? Sachiro’s just a baby. She didn’t have to do that, Mom. I’m never gonna hurt my son.”

They said nothing was more comforting than being in the arms of your mother. Satoru realized how true that statement was when his mom embraced him and tried to pacify his growing ire. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that,” she reassured, “I know how much you love your son. This is why you shouldn’t let this slide, Satoru. Let Y/N know that she’s not the only victim here.”

Her words made him pull away in discombobulation. “What do you mean?”

“She took your son away from you,” she pointed out as if Satoru should have already known what she meant by it, “She manipulated you into thinking that she had an abortion so you wouldn’t keep holding onto her. She did it out of spite even if she says otherwise. She’s selfish. Do you know how much it devastated me to see you hurting yourself over and over because you were made to believe her lies? I’ve had to wake up each day with this fear in my mind wondering what would happen if I leave you alone by yourself. I’ve even had to isolate you from everyone just to make sure that you can focus on healing on your own!”

Satoru was silenced on his seat, about six feet apart from his father’s bed. Surely, the old man could hear everything and he was even closing his eyes as though his son’s life was too pitiful for him. “I didn’t think Y/N would do something like this…” said your ex-husband, meeting his mom’s eyes once more. “I just don’t think she’d do this. Even if I gave her enough reason, she’s not the type of person who—”

“You underestimated her,” she countered, “Satoru, you have to accept the sad truth. Y/N isn’t as perfect as you think she is. She’s just as flawed as you. She took three years of your son’s life away from you. Do you understand that? You can’t let this one go. Don’t try to palliate her actions by saying you did worse.”

Then, what should he do? He was barely even processing the miscellany of his tragic fate. His mind was in turmoil. His heart was torn in shreds. A heavy sigh was expected to escape out of his lips as he thought the situation through. “How do I deal with this, Mom?”

Unlike him, she was resolute in her decision as though she had been waiting for this day. “File for a custody case.” The advice came from the same mother who once abandoned him. “Japan only grants full custody, so you have all the right to take Sachiro away from her, too.”

The moment you had been dreading for was here.

With only a single paper and a few words, Satoru Gojou had yet again managed to annihilate your whole world.

You told yourself that you were ready for this. That you were prepared for the day when his memories would come back. That you wouldn’t be shaken once he brings up the fact that you kept Sachiro’s existence from him all this time. You already visualized those scenes in your mind and calculated what things you were going to say or what actions you were going to take—everything was thoroughly considered for your advantage because you were aware that the return of his memories would have a massive blow on your situation as a divorced couple with an only child.

And yet, after reading the entire document of his plea for full custody, you didn’t think that Satoru could still pulverize every inch of you into minuscule fragments. Aside from filing a criminal complaint against you for lying about the abortion, he had also requested for your complete exclusion in receiving any inherent rights towards your son. Your son. Your only son. The son you carried for nine months while you were on the median between life and death. The son you raised alone in a foreign city while juggling between your career and maternal responsibilities. The son who—despite not having seen his father since the day he was born—was still very welcoming of him because you never truly excluded Satoru from the picture.

You did believe in karma, but how come you were always receiving the bad and never the good?

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” Ian reassured after having read the full document. Your hands were shaking, fingers twitching spastically as they sought out anything that they could hold onto. The pain in your chest was so excruciating that you wanted to just faint in order to stop the unwanted sensation. However, for your brother-in-law who was clearly concerned about your growing anxiety, he was doing his best to appease your sensitive emotions. “It’s okay. I’m gonna investigate this document and I’ll get you the best lawyers from the firm. You’re still at an advantage, Y/N.”

“That’s not the point!” you cried, chest heaving from your oncoming surge of tears. The point was, you fooled yourself into thinking that maybe Satoru would understand. You deluded yourself into believing that Satoru’s unfeigned love for you was enough that he would rather talk it out first instead of slapping a custody paper on your face. How wrong could you be? “I gotta go talk to him. H-He can’t do this to me… He can’t destroy me like this all over again…”

“Y/N, that’s not a good idea—”

Your mind was running just as fast as your legs were. Despite your unstable breathing and arrhythmic heartbeat, you ignored every other feeling except for the strong impulse to confront the spiteful father of your child about the war he was declaring between you both. It didn’t matter how distraught you looked nor how scandalous it would be for you to even have the guts to face him. It didn’t matter if tears were filling your eyes nor if your lips had become the same color as your skin. You looked desperate, but for your son, you would do anything.

Sachiro was all on your mind when you drove through the freeway at 100 mph. His innocent smile was all on your mind when you swerved through the lane and overtook cars on a busy road. Your baby’s cheerful blue eyes were all on your mind when you finally arrived at the central business district after receiving confirmation from Miwa that her boss was in his office today.

Among the curious gazes of his employees when you entered the lobby, it was mostly the receptionists who were particularly taken aback by your sudden appearance, going as far as ordering the security team to stop you from dashing towards the express elevator at your freewill. “Miss, I’m sorry but Mr. Gojou doesn’t accept visitors at the moment,” one of them said, shoving your lack of privilege in their boss’ company building now, “He’s pretty strict about this. You have to set a schedule with him first.”

“Don’t you know who I am?” you asked through gritted teeth, “If you do, then I suggest you back off or else you and I are gonna have a problem.”

“But Ms. L/N, wait!”

You weren’t intending to cause a scene, but there was barely enough room in your system to store all of your remaining patience while you were potentially about to lose your rights over your son. They could call you crazy however they want. They could label you dramatic for your desperation to speak to your ex-husband. They could gossip about how you had the audacity to barge into their chairman’s office during business hours without prior notice. They could even claim that you were using your name and status to bypass their security measures. The fact here was; none of them truly knew the real reason why you were in the c-suite floor of the Gojou Group, stomping through the corridors and ignoring all the staff who tried to call for your name. You were far too fixated on your purpose that everyone else was blurred out in the background—everyone except the man you once exchanged vows with.

And there he was, moving away from his desk as soon as you stepped a foot into his office. There he was—the contemptuous ex-husband who could destroy your entire life even if he had to exhaust all of his resources—ridding himself of his paperworks and standing a few meters away while his electric blue eyes studied the animosity in your countenance. He had his hands inside his pockets, keeping an austere mien with the backdrop of slate gray skies behind him. Wasn’t it funny? This office was where it both started and would probably end; where you two created Sachiro and where you two would fight over the sole custody of him.

“Close the door and leave us be,” was the solemn order he said to Miwa so that no prying ears would be able to hear what words would soon be exchanged between Japan’s most controversial divorcé and divorcée. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as his secretary shut the door, you dropped your poise and truly lost it. You were losing it. All of your trauma, your fears, your repressed feelings, and your vulnerabilities were all coming out as if you were vomiting words and emotions along with your tears. They were pouring out of you like water would on a shattered glass bottle. It was your fear of losing your son that made you reach your breaking point, tearing you asunder as you imagined what your life would become if he did take your son away. Perhaps this was the very reaction he wanted out of you.

“How could you do this to me?!” Maybe it was because you were overwhelmed by the tide of negative emotions, but you were already hysterical by the time you slammed your feeble limbs on his chest, completely in despair as he looked at you in agonizing silence. “H-How can you do this, Satoru? I’d rather y-you hate me, hurt me, or yell at me like you always did, but this…” Your voice weakened just as your body did. “Why are you doing this?”

He responded to your breakdown by presenting a businesslike mien. “What are you crying about?”

“Don’t be cruel!” you raised your voice and pushed him off. Your body grew so tense to the point of shaking—your breathing became ragged, your movements were frenzied. As for him, all he did was stare at your glistening eyes in confusion. “You have no right to do this to me! You m-made me suffer enough while we were married, and now you… you… I hate you!”

“Y/N—”

“You’re so heartless, Satoru. Y-You’re so damn heartless!”

“Y/N, listen—”

“Just hate me all you want, b-but don’t take my son away from me!” you wailed; your vision blurring due to the accumulation of tears in your eyes, “Do you want me to beg on my knees like you did? I-Is that it? I’ll do it for my son, just please… I’m sorry for hiding him. I’m sorry for lying about the abortion. I’m sorry I-I didn’t give you a chance to be a father. If you’re mad at me, just focus on me! Don’t take my son away, Satoru. I… I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

You couldn’t understand why the father of your child was looking at you like he was the one hurting inside. You could see him softening his gaze as he placed his hands on both sides of your shoulders, keeping you steady while he attempted to lock eyes with you. “Calm down first,” he advised, measuring the despondency on your visage, “Make me understand what you mean.”

“What do you…?” How ridiculous! After taking a deep inhale to gather your last string of patience together, you wiped your dampened cheeks and shoved the document to his chest. “You sent me this! Stop fooling around!”

Satoru didn’t waste a second before he opened the document and scanned the noxious words written on the paper. You, too, were just as confused when you watched the way his eyes read through the file, how his lips were curling into a frown, and how his eyebrows were furrowed in complete bewilderment. “How’d you get a copy of this?”

Was he acting?

“You sent it.” You shot him a glare—the heavy rise and fall of your chest finally steadying. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck.” He crumpled the paper in his hands and consequently closed his eyes in frustration. “It was my mom.”

Uncertainty bathed your face, but you had to hold your breath and retain your composure. “You wrote it.”

“I did,” he admitted straightforwardly, walking to the bin and tossing the paper into it. By the time he turned around and leaned against his desk, his face was clouded with regret. “My mom was insisting on the custody claim while I was at the height of my anger, so I drafted that to release my rage, but I was never going to send it to the court.” He stopped for a moment only to let out an exasperated sigh, simultaneous to how he also massaged the frown lines on his glabella. “I told her I wasn’t gonna push through with it. She might’ve sent that to you out of spite.”

“Satoru Gojou.” You scoffed in utter disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that? After you recovered your memories of me—of us, you expect me to believe that you were rational enough not to send it? Do you also remember how many times you hurt me while you were blinded by rage?”

Your ex-husband avoided your eyes. “You don’t have to believe me,” claimed he, “But if I was truly going to file a claim, I wouldn’t have the time to explain all this to you.”

Regardless of the point he had raised, you didn’t let your guard down. “You could be lying. You could be manipulating me right now. I know you wanna destroy me. That’s what you’re good at—”

“Y/N, I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother!” Gojou took slow, but measured strides towards you. His stance wasn't threatening nor defensive, but more so a plea to understand his side of the story. “I was disgusted at myself that I even considered writing that custody letter, because how could I? No matter how angry I am with you, I still can’t stomach the thought of letting Sachiro live without his mother.” He must have noticed how the hostility in your eyes was replaced by the slightest hint of sympathy, especially the moment he mentioned his long standing issue about his mother’s absence. You hated to admit that what Satoru was saying did make sense and he was more likely not to let Sachiro be traumatized the same way he was, but part of you just couldn’t trust him anymore. Part of you was doubting his sincerity and all of the possible lies between his words as you listened to his explanations. “Y/N, I’m still so angry with you for hiding Sachiro, but how exactly could filing a custody case help me? I lost my memories and my doctor says I should still be recuperating, so why would the court grant me full parental responsibility when I’m clearly unfit to care for my child?”

You silently inhaled and took in enough air to fill your lungs. “I just don’t believe you’d have all the time to consider this and think it through. You used to always tell me that I’ll pay for the repercussions.”

“I used to,” he agreed, “But I learned how fucking cruel I was. I learned it the hard way after I lost you.”

Before the topic could touch another painful subject, you decided to present a rigid façade and redirected the conversation back to your son. “So, what do you plan to do?”

Satoru made way towards the ceiling-to-floor window and let his unhappy eyes stare at the Tokyo cityscape. For a moment, there was silence. It wasn’t antagonistic nor was it filled with an air of estrangement. It was more of a silence full of heartaches and internal battles until he eventually gathered his emotions back together. “First, I wanna know why you lied about the abortion,” his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, but he refused to let you see the heartbreak on his face as he recalled certain memories in his head, “I was screaming in that hospital, you know? I’m not sure if you heard it, but I felt like I was the one dying when they told me that you wanted to have our baby taken out. I felt like… I felt like I was being killed over and over again thinking about how I was the reason our baby wasn’t given the chance to live.”

You felt a deep ache in your bones because you did remember how he screamed outside of the door, crying and begging for you not to ‘kill his baby’. You remembered how you endured hearing his breakdown and how everyone was insensitively asking for him to leave and get over it. How it was his fault. Or how he should have seen it coming. The memory brought an awful clutch in your chest knowing that the time had finally come where you two were now unfolding the truth behind that cold December night. In your guilt, you explained your side as calmly and as apologetically as you could. “You wouldn’t let me leave if you knew that I kept our baby,” you began, “You would’ve wanted to stay by my side and be constantly next to me because the baby keeps us connected. At the time, I was desperate to just be away from you even for some time.” Knowing that your words might hurt him, you allowed him to digest the information before you continued to speak. “I wasn’t planning to drag that lie for three years. I wanted to tell you the truth after a year, at least until I’ve managed to get back on my own feet, but I didn’t know how to approach you. I was scared to meet you again.”

“Okay…” he easily accepted your reasoning while swallowing his weakness inside. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say more, prove you wrong, and let you know that your decision was still not morally right despite all the factors that drove you to do it. However, it was also obvious that Satoru was protecting something—whether it was his heart or his sanity—he decided that it may be best to just accept your rationale. And by doing that, he had to forgive you. “That’s all I really wanted to understand.”

But could this be real? Could Satoru really have enough heart to forgive you easily like this? Because you were profoundly ridden by guilt, you tried to explain more. “I-I didn’t know that you’ve become suicidal after I left or that you’ve had to isolate and see a therapist because of all the trauma that you acquired. I really just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gojou. I didn’t mean all of that, I just—”

“You just wanted to escape,” he finished the sentence for you and turned around with a small, but forlorn smile on his lips, “What I went through isn’t your fault. I don’t think I can blame that on you. I was the one who led you to that choice.”

You exhaled softly, feeling the extensive distance between you both despite standing only two feet apart. “In spite of that, I’ve let Sachiro know who you are. Even if I raised him alone in New York, I still made sure he knows who his father is and I gave an excuse as to why you aren’t with us at the time. I’ve always told Sachi how much you love him.”

Your ex-husband cleared his throat and restrained all other painful emotions from coming out. “Did you have a hard time giving birth to him?”

“Yes, but he was a healthy baby,” you answered, watching tears glossing over Satoru’s eyes, “He actually didn’t cry much when I first held him in my arms.”

His crestfallen face was screaming ‘I could have been there’ and ‘I could have held him’, but he was more focused on keeping himself collected in front of you. What a true businessman he was; despite identifying a capital loss right before his eyes, he was still keeping it all together in order to delegate an action plan. It no longer surprised you that your ex-husband was applying the same logic to his personal relationships. “Let’s settle on a schedule,” he offered, “How do you feel about co-parenting?”

What was unbelievable about this was the fact that he was the first one to offer it. Or actually, it was more unbelievable that your conversation didn’t lead to a custody case like you initially expected. “More than happy,” was your immediate response, “Like I said, I wanna be fair to you. You can see him anytime. Just let me know.”

“I’ll have Miwa check my schedule and see if that’s okay with you.” You could sense that Satoru was putting enough effort to conceal the pain in his voice. “And I’m sorry about my mom. Just ignore the document you received today. I’ll have a talk with her about it.”

“Okay…”

“Then…”

“If we’re done here,” you insisted, preparing to leave, “I’ll go. I appreciate that you’ve been cooperative.”

So, that was it? Your efforts in coming here were worth it after all. The misunderstanding behind the custody case was all cleared out. The explanations regarding your decision to hide Sachiro were finally out in the open. The resolution to co-parent healthily was now settled. But why did it feel like there was a catch in all of this? Why did your heart feel empty as did his?

“Y/N, wait…”

There, there was definitely a catch. However, you were still walking away when he called for your name, daring not to look back as you grabbed the door handle. You didn’t want to hear him take his words back. You refused to hear him say that he was just testing you and that he was still hellbent on claiming sole custody of Sachiro. Yet just before you could twist the knob, a prickling sensation shot up your spine when you heard the next words coming out of your ex-husband’s mouth. Contrary to your assumptions, it wasn’t about Sachiro nor was it about anything concerning his parental rights. It was about you.

“I love you.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball. “...Satoru.”

And as you turned around to look at him, he was already heading towards you with the most heartrending expression you had ever seen on his face. It exceeded the miserable state he was in when you first announced the divorce on the Gojou Group’s anniversary. It surpassed the despair in his eyes when you met him on the day of your wedding with Toji. His visage was a mixture of yearning, regret, and dejection—something that was expected of an ex-husband whose memories of the divorce were still fresh on his mind.

But what was more pitiful now was how he swallowed his pride to beg for something that he shouldn’t. “Please take me back.”

“Satoru,” you mumbled inaudibly as he had his arms wrapped around you, embracing your frame with no willingness to let go, “Satoru, stop. We’re divorced.”

You felt his tears dampening your blouse after he buried his face into your shoulder. “Please forgive me, Y/N.” The desperation in his voice made you crumble inside. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you when we were married. For lying, for cheating on you, for spouting hurtful words that you didn’t deserve, for putting you through so much pain to the point where you had no other choice but escape. There’s nothing I can do to erase the things I did to you and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” He tightened his hug around your body and pressed his forehead against yours. Only then did you see the loneliest blues that made up his eyes. “It d-doesn’t matter to me now that you lied about the abortion and that you hid my son for three years. I-I’ll turn a blind eye on all of it, just please… Please come back to me. Our home feels so empty without you.”

Seeing how Gojou was a complete emotional mess to you right now, you suddenly forgot what your expectations were when you decided to barge in his office and confront him about his appeal for custody. Frankly, you thought that the conversation would end up becoming so intense that you would have an explosive exchange of words, yelling at each other about who was hurting more than who, and slamming whatever breakable things could help release the rage you had for one another. You expected that he would even ask his bodyguards to drag you away, telling you that you were trespassing his property since you were no longer his wife. The old Satoru you knew would have spitefully and unforgivably demonized you for your mistakes, inflicted pain on you with his piercing words, and have you drown yourself in anguish as you deserved.

You didn’t expect that the conversation would turn out like this at all—where he was crying in front of you instead of yelling, where he was begging for you to take him back instead of calling you out for leaving him without a word. No, this was not what you expected and you were practically speechless as you pulled yourself away from him.

“We can’t,” you reiterated earnestly, “I’m with Toji now.”

Gojou swallowed his pride and wiped his eyes. “I know. You don’t have to break up with him,” he insisted, “You can keep seeing him behind my back and I won’t get mad at you for it. Hurt me like I hurt you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“As long as our family can be together again, that’s enough for me. Please.”

Instead of giving in, all that you could give was a sigh. It was absurd, if you were being real. The man who broke you was right here offering himself to be broken the same you did. He was here giving you a go signal to cheat on him so long as you would accept him back into your life. He was here doing everything he could to bring his family back together. If you were still ‘you’ back when you were his altruistic, submissive wife, you would have said yes. You would have hugged him and told him that you would let him in your heart again.

But things had changed just as you did, too.

And while you kept that in mind, you also recalled the recent things Gen had told you.

‘This is exactly why you can’t live with Satoru! You’re so fucking spineless! You have no backbone when it comes to him!’

‘You need to stand up for yourself instead of letting Gojou have this much influence on your life!’

Wrong. She was wrong, because as you stood in front of Satoru who was offering his whole world just to make you a part of his again, your choice was the opposite of what they all thought about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said to your ex-husband, gripping his wrists and pulling them away from your body. “We already agreed to co-parent, Satoru. Let’s just stick with that. You and I, we need to start living separate lives.”

Nothing but pain masked his face. “It’s because of Toji, huh? Is it because you love him?”

You looked away. “I do. I love him,” you professed, being reminded of the argument you had with Toji a few nights ago. This was the perfect opportunity to establish your past and present, with Toji being the present and Satoru being the past. You only had one choice among the two.. “He’s everything to me and I want my future to be with him.”

The reason why you couldn’t even have the courage to peek at Satoru’s face was because you knew, just by his voice alone, that he was falling apart. “Are you happy?”

I’m sorry, Satoru. “Without you, I will be.”

Gojou had to place a hand against the wall to support the surge of pain that was eating him away. He was holding onto that concrete wall as if it would collapse because you bulldozed his heart without so much of a warning. Did he expect that you would say otherwise? After everything, maybe he did have hope that you could still be together in the end. He may still be hoping that the two of you could love again. He was still holding onto you because he had no one else to hold onto. The only possible way for him to accept reality was for you to let him go.

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” You hid the drumbeat of pain inside your chest. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

This was the closure you both needed—something that you didn’t get to have three years ago.

And while it seemed that it took a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, and forever in his head to accept the outcome of your failed marriage, at the end of it all, he had to respect your decision.

“Okay,” he somberly answered, turning away and gesturing towards the door, “You can leave.”

After paying a quick visit to his mom in jail, Yuuta’s next destination was to the Gojou Group to let his stepbrother know that he would be flying back to America soon. It might take several months before he comes home again, so it was best for him to see everyone just before he would leave. He wasn’t sure if he could even return home during the holidays because he would be too busy in his last academic year in Harvard and he had to put 100% of his focus into his studies. As much as it was grueling to hear, all of his efforts were building up to a more rewarding future, and that was to run a multinational conglomerate alongside his stepbrother.

On the other hand, maybe he wasn’t really in luck today. He was curious to see why there was such a commotion in the lobby when he came to the office this morning, and just imagine his surprise when he saw you arguing with the employees and flouncing towards the elevator while telling the bodyguards that you had to speak with your ex-husband. The unusual pugnacity in your stance made Yuuta step back and decide that it might not be good for him to barge in and see the chairman. Whatever it was that you had to talk to Satoru about, it must be of serious concern because it wasn’t in your nature to show even the slightest bit of aggression in your mien.

So that was how he found himself heading straight to the airport with Miwa who was kind enough to see him off as she promised. Although she still had four hours left at work, Nanami allowed her to leave early since Satoru was still too preoccupied with his marital predicament, which means that the chairman would most likely spend the rest of the day focusing on how to resolve his issues with you.

“I can’t even say goodbye to nii-san,” said Yuuta, carrying a shearling jacket over his left arm while holding his passport and boarding ticket with his right hand. They were strolling through the waiting area as he and Miwa made their way to the first class lounge. “Please give me an update about him whenever you can.”

For some reason, his stepbrother’s secretary had been silent throughout the drive to the airport. He could even count the very limited number of eye-to-eye contacts that they have had. And even as she talked, she was doing her best to look away. “Don’t worry too much, Yuuta-kun. We’ll make sure to look after him.”

“I know you will.” He offered a smile and led her inside the lounge. ��I just hope whatever it is that he’s going through with Y/N-san, they’ll still find a way to reconcile. If not for themselves, then at least for Sachiro.”

Miwa held back a sigh, but slumped her shoulders nonetheless. “Did you get to see Sachi yesterday?”

He responded by shaking his head. “No, sadly. I might piss off nee-chan’s family if I dared to visit their mansion. They consider me a Gojou, you know.”

“I guess that’s true. They also have a bad history with your mom.”

“Everyone hates my mom. That’s understandable.” Yuuta found his spot on one of the leather sofas inside the luxurious facility where the symphonious orchestrations of classical music was playing from a distance, providing a very upscale experience for its more-privileged passengers. Remembering Nanami’s words in mind, all he needed was a glass of Chardonnay to feel like a wealthy executive on a business trip. The thought of it made him laugh. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”

The blue-haired girl sat quite a distance away from him as she replied. “For what?”

He moved his index finger in a circular motion, referring to the whole place itself. “This. The fancy lifestyle and all the exclusive perks that came with it. It still feels weird to me, surprisingly,” he opened up, leaning his nape on the headrest and tilting his face towards Miwa. “I wasn’t born from old money, so I experienced what it’s like to fly coach or to sleep on a gang chair waiting for my flight. But for affluent heirs and heiresses like Satoru Gojou or Y/N L/N, this kind of extravagant lifestyle is what's been ‘normal’ to them since they were children, you know? They even have the choice to fly on their own private jet. I think that’s what my mom tried so hard to achieve—erasing the part of her that identifies with the middle class and completely molding herself into this rich person who has never had a taste of hardship in life. She despises the fact that she wasn’t born into a powerful and wealthy family.”

“I’m more surprised that you didn’t acquire the kind of mindset that your mom has,” the girl admitted, almost sounding like she was amazed, “You kept yourself grounded even when you’ve been living rich since you’ve been with the Gojous.”

Yuuta smiled and observed how Miwa suddenly seemed drawn to the conversation. “Maybe because I’m not a materialistic person in general,” he supposed, “Mom thinks money can buy her happiness. I’ve always been distasteful of that logic.”

Miwa took her time to consider the thought before she gave her two cents in. “Well, your mom kinda has a point, too. Having enough money means you have more access to specific resources that not a lot of people can afford like education, healthcare, housing. If I had enough money, I probably wouldn't be dedicating twelve hours a day working for a busy person like Chairman, but I have to do it because my siblings depend on me.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I admire you for that,” he responded, sending the girl a tender gaze. “I told you this before, but I really, really do think that you’re one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met, Miwa-chan.”

Whether she was shy or she was simply feeling awkward around him, Miwa still couldn’t let her eyes meet Yuuta’s. Instead, she was looking down at her lap while plastering a small smile. “I think Yuuta-kun is hardworking, too.”

In some days, he could say that he was. “It’s nice to talk to someone who also didn’t come from old money. It gets suffocating at some point, but I feel like I can breathe properly around you.”

His statement sparked the sudden curiosity on her face. “What about Maki-san? Does she not…”

In fact, Yuuta was just checking her phone to see if Maki had replied to his text message, only to be disappointed that his girlfriend hadn't even read the text. She must truly be busy with all of the obligatory family affairs that she had to attend to. “Maki is a Zen’in. I think her family name alone speaks for itself.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, she’s not pressuring me or whatever, but their family pride makes me feel small sometimes. I always wonder if they’ll accept me or if I’m good enough for her or if I can guarantee my own success without trailing behind her. It’s a constant battle of self-doubt and insecurity that I often hide from her.”

Miwa nodded after having a better perspective regarding Maki and Yuuta’s relationship. “I’m more than sure that they’ll like you for who you are.”

“You really think so?” Yuuta lightly asked, pinching her nose.

Her cheeks were soon limned with a pink tint. “...You have nothing to be insecure about. I think you belong with them as much as you’re doubting yourself.”

While it was considerably unusual in this society for men to be openly insecure, Yuuta still believed that he had all the right reasons to feel so. Not only because of his upbringing, but also because he never truly felt like he could fit in anywhere. People would say he was too rich to be with the middle class, but those in the higher society would say that he didn’t originally belong to the upper class. This was an on-going issue that he had to face ever since he was adopted by the Gojou family, and only since he started living in America did he feel his own independence.

What would things be like if he had just decided to never come back to Japan?

“Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 372A to Boston. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

At the announcement of his flight, Yuuta got up and turned to his companion with a bittersweet gaze, wondering to himself when he would be able to see her again. “Miwa-chan, looks like I gotta go. Let’s keep in touch.”

She nodded just as fast, but kept her downcast eyes on the floor. “Please take care.”

“Don’t be sad,” he teased, poking the puff of her cheek with his index finger. “You’re gonna be my secretary when I come back.”

With a little less than ten minutes left to board the plane, Yuuta offered his friend a salute while watching how she was standing completely frozen on her spot. Her eyes were speaking a million words, but her mouth refused to say even a simple goodbye. Perhaps, for someone sentimental like her, there should be no goodbyes. Only ‘see you later’ or ‘until we meet again’. Even though it may take another 6 months, 10 months, or even a year or two—Yuuta knew that some way and somehow, he would be able to find her.

For now, it was time to leave this place.

And when he comes back, he hoped that his mother would finally be remorseful of her actions. He hoped that his stepbrother would be able to sort out his failed marriage. He hoped that Maki would still accept him in her life even though the distance may drive them apart. He hoped that… he hoped that…

“Yuuta-kun!”

He was already halfway through the gate when Miwa called for his name. The nervous stretch of her eyes and the small parting of her lips suggested that she was about to spill the thing that had been burdening her mind ever since he came back to Japan.

“I like you,” she confessed, leaving Yuuta stunned and speechless, “I’ve liked you for years now, but I never had the courage to tell you because you’re out of my league. All the little moments we’ve had, all the times we talked over video calls and late night chats—all of those may be insignificant to you, but I want you to know that those memories mean so much more to someone like me. You’re an incredible person and you’re such a positive influence to the people around you. I admire your humility, kindness, and optimism a lot and I hope that you’ll never, ever doubt yourself.”

Yuuta couldn’t move. “Miwa…”

“This is the final boarding call for passenger Yuuta Okkotsu booked on flight 372A to Boston. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. Thank you.”

Miwa’s eyes glimmered. “I’m only telling you this so that I can get it off my chest,” she added before giving a full 90 degree bow, “I want to set myself free from the feelings I have for you, so… Thank you for everything, Yuuta-kun. I wish you the best with your life in Harvard and your relationship with Maki-san.”

Coming home after the emotional exchange that you had with Gojou was worse than the encounter itself because all eyes were on you from the moment you returned to the family mansion, with most of them gauging the depth of your feelings closely, possibly wondering what had occurred between you and your ex-husband when you dramatically stormed into his office. Gen didn’t have to speak her mind. You could already hear the questions inside her head without her having to vocalize them. It was either ‘did you get swayed by him again?’ or ‘are you letting him off easily?’—whichever of the two, your sister had no intention of understanding Satoru’s side. But for you, as a courtesy for the man who tried his best to fix his broken family despite your adamant rejection, the least you could do was to finally put an end to the antagonism that he was receiving from your family.

That was the only possible way for you to co-parent healthily.

“Y/N.” It was Ian who had the courage to speak up first as soon as they met you at the bottom of the grand staircase. Your languidness seemed to have given him the wrong impression. “I checked with the court and they told me they didn’t receive any complaints from Satoru. How’d your conversation go with him?”

With your dad’s sympathetic eyes and Gen’s calculating gaze, you suppressed any other emotions from coming out except for the untroubled front that you were presenting to them. “He didn’t send the custody letter. It was his mom who did,” you said without sugarcoating the truth, “We’ve decided to co-parent.”

Your sister couldn’t put the puzzle pieces together from the obvious disconnect on your words. “Why would Auntie send it? What the hell’s her problem?” she questioned, arms crossed over her chest, “And co-parenting doesn’t exist in Japan’s law, Y/N. It’s either you will keep Sachiro or he will.”

“Well, I don’t care. I want my son to stay connected with his dad,” you snapped. “That’s my decision and not yours.”

You could surely count the number of times that you had actually answered Gen back, and although you felt bad for the way your relationship as sisters was practically ruined, you still wanted to make sure that she knew not to cross the line when you were making decisions for your son. It wasn’t you being stupid or lenient or too forgiving—it was you doing your best to make up for the time you stole between your ex-husband and his son. After all, if the tables were turned, you wouldn’t have liked it if your spouse hid your child and took three years of your motherhood away from you.

Based on how your father reacted, he seemed to have had the same understanding of the situation. “Is that what Satoru wants, darling? Just co-parent?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before responding with utmost honesty. “At first, he wanted me to take him back so our family could be complete.”

“And?” Gen prodded. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Lucky for her, you were no longer the spineless sister that she claimed you were. “No, I officially broke it off with him. He obviously had no choice,” you answered, looking away. “Are you happy now?”

A sigh or two could be heard from your family. While as for Gen, she became more apologetic and less stern when she explained her side. “Y/N, I didn’t yell at you the other day just because I’m being petty. I said all that because I want you to protect yourself. Who else is gonna defend you but us?”

Well, it was over, anyway. You and Gojou weren’t tied anymore and he had already agreed to share parental duties while you would remain as the custodial parent. That was the best possible outcome that you could ever expect from such a broken man. “Just please, stop getting mad at Satoru,” you bargained while keeping your ex-husband in mind, “He already apologized and paid his dues. We both hurt each other, and now we’re both trying to atone and compensate for our mistakes.”

“You’re still protecting him,” Gen pointed out. “You don’t have to. You don’t need to forgive him. He wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

You decided to correct her statement. “But he did. And despite everything, I still loved him when he was my husband.”

Your father was more considerate with your feelings, however. “Just make sure you’re always choosing yourself first, okay? Dad’s here to give you advice if you need it.”

“Same here,” Ian chimed in, “Make sure that the rules you two will set in co-parenting Sachiro will still be favorable to you. You can consult me anytime if you think something isn’t fair.”

At least, contrary to your expectations, this day ended better. You managed to talk it out with Satoru without having a lawyer by your side, and now your family was also very supportive and understanding with your decision. It might seem too good to be true at the moment, but you had trust that your ex-husband would not do anything against his promises. His tears and his genuine downpour of feelings earlier were enough to tell you just how much he cared about you and your son, so you were reasonably sanguine that he would not be spiteful even after your rejection.

For now, you still had another problem and it was telling Sachiro that his parents weren’t actually together anymore.

How could you even begin to explain such a situation to a toddler? How could you open his mind to the reality that his mommy and daddy weren’t married anymore? How could you expect him to react after seeing you with another man and him with another woman?

It broke you inside that Sachiro was only 3 years of age when you had to have this talk with him. It devastated you just how innocent he was to be catapulted into the world of broken marriages, which ultimately deprived him of the happy family that he deserved to have. These thoughts were drowning you when you entered Sachiro’s playroom later that night, hesitating whether or not it was a good time to let your son know about the current setup between his parents. What was the best approach for a situation like this?

“Hi, Mama.” Your son waved his small arm at you while sitting on the mat next to his building blocks. He was completely oblivious to the hesitation in your movements when you hunkered down to meet his height. “Mama, lookie!”

You smiled at the small house he had created with the toy blocks and proceeded to shower him with praises. “Wow~! That’s amazing! Did my baby build this?”

The toddler nodded, cheerfully. “Yes, Mama. Can Sachi show Dada?”

Great. Good timing. Now that he brought up his father, you took this as an opportunity to open up the topic. “Sachi, mommy has something very important to tell you, so you listen carefully, okay?”

“Mmkay~”

Why was your heart beating so fast? Why was it pounding so loudly? You could feel beads of sweat forming on your temple. Your throat, parched. But you had to take no excuse in finally disclosing the truth to your son. “Sachi, mom and dad are…” you swallowed hard, “We’re not together anymore, but we’re still friends because of Sachi.”

Your little boy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Why fwends, Mama? Is Dada mad at Sachi?”

“No, baby, it’s…” God, help me. “Dada loves Sachi very much, so he still talks to Mama, but because we’re not together anymore, that means he can’t live with us.”

It felt like a knife in the gut to see the way he pouted—his eyes shining with tears. “Why is Dada going away?”

“He’s not. You can still see him. You can always see him, my baby,” you immediately reassured while your child was at the peak of solving the complicated puzzle. He was too young to understand all this, but in what other way could you explain it? You sighed and continued. “It’s just that Mama and Dada aren’t together anymore.”

“But…” Sachiro shook his head in denial. “Sachi wants Mama with Dada.”

“Your Mommy and Daddy are divorced.”

The feminine voice wasn’t from Gen, but from a close friend of yours who stood by the door with a plaintive smile on her face. You didn’t know how long Ieiri had been standing there, but it seemed as if she had only decided to step in on the conversation once she saw how you were struggling to explain the situation to your son. It was only then did you realize that you really did need her help, and she was quick enough to act on it by giving you a certain look that said ‘I got this, let me help you’ before she sat down and spoke to Sachiro.

“Divorce means they’re no longer married to each other, but they still love you very much and they will always care for you,” Shoko calmly and patiently explained the situation to your child, distracting his mind by helping him put the toy blocks together—a tactic that Ieiri must have seen useful to lessen the psychological impact on Sachiro’s 3-year old brain. “Starting now, your daddy will live in the penthouse while your mommy will stay in this house. Sachi will stay with mommy, but you will still see daddy, too. Just like in New York, remember?”

Sachiro connected one block to another. “Is it… Is Dada bad for Mama?

You cleared your throat and stroked his plump cheek. “No, of course not. Dada and I will continue to be friends for you, baby. I’ll take care of you when you’re with me, and he’ll take care of you when you’re with him. I’ll read your bedtime stories, sing you to sleep, and give you bubble baths, while Dada will give you lots of hugs, play with you, and get you fried chicken.”

Ieiri let out a silent chuckle at your last line. “That’s right. Sachiro will still have both Mom and Dad.”

It was his pure innocence that led him to agree so easily. “Okay~”

But in seeing how your son initially reacted, someone might as well stab your heart with a knife over and over. Perhaps batter it with a hammer. Crush it so hard that nothing would be left but small fragments. When the inevitable day comes where Sachiro could finally understand the reality behind his parents’ marriage, you knew that his reaction would devastate you. In the first place, it would be heartbreaking to know that he was a child born from an arranged marriage. A child born only for the sake of an heir. Did Satoru even genuinely love you back then? Or was Sachiro made at the time where he was still using you for his corporate ambitions? Either way, you weren’t ready for your son to suffer from the aftereffects of your broken marriage. This was all on your mind as you went through that night, rearranging your thoughts and emotions as your friend kept you company by heading off to the balcony after you had put Sachiro to bed.

“How’d you hear about us co-parenting?” you asked Ieiri, leaning your back against the banister as she took a drag from her cigarette. Your question was in reference to how the woman found it easy to join in on the earlier conversation.

“I didn’t mean to overhear this,” she quickly clarified, blowing the puff of smoke away from you, “but Satoru called Suguru this afternoon and he said that you two decided to just co-parent after a confrontation. That’s why I figured that I should check on you and see how you’re doing.”

You forced a smile. “I’m doing fine. I think we both handled it like mature individuals.”

Her downturned eyes measured your true emotions. “I’m surprised that he didn’t react spitefully about it. The Gojou I used to know wouldn’t have let this slide,” she contemplated, “He really does love you.”

“I think he just doesn’t want any further conflict between us.” A soft sigh crawled out of your lips. “He’s a father, so I understand why he doesn’t want to subject Sachiro to the kind of environment that he was exposed to as a child. He said my explanation was enough for him.”

“It’s because of love,” Ieiri reiterated. “He’s willing to just forget everything despite being forced to believe that his son was never alive. He’s willing to forget that because he doesn’t want to have a reason to stop loving you.”

For some silly reason, you could feel a tight squeeze in your chest. “He has to stop loving me. It’s for the best, and that’s what I told him, too. I gave him the closure that he deserved.”

Her eyes widened before the emotions on her face faded back into a bittersweet smile. “It’s sad to know that nothing can bring you two together again, but I support whatever decision you make. I want you and him to be happy, even if it means you won’t be together in the end.”

Just like her, you were content with your choice and your only hope was to continue living your life with your son and your fiancé, Toji, who deserved your love more than anyone else in this world. You could never turn your back on him when he had been there for you during your lowest. Hopefully, Satoru would be able to find his Toji too and not spend the rest of his life pining after his ex-wife. Doing that would save him years of pain and countless lonely nights.

But until the day comes, you had to show him that platonic love was all that you two would ever have for each other now.

“I’ll still care about him even if we aren’t together anymore,” you silently mumbled, reaching for the cigarette between Ieiri’s fingers before you placed the filter between your lips. As you inhaled from your mouth, a thick cloud of smoke was released shortly.

The owner of the cigarette herself was in catatonic shock before she quickly grabbed the stick back. “Y/N! Smoking is bad for your heart,” she ironically scolded like a mother would, “It can be fatal.”

You spread your lips into a small smile. “Death doesn’t really scare me. I’m only scared of leaving Sachiro behind.”

“Satoru, that’s enough.”

Despite the continuous warnings from his best friend to stop drowning himself in more glasses of whiskey, did he listen? No, of course, he didn’t. This was the only way he could numb his pain. The only possible way for him to forget, even for just a moment, that the woman he loved was no longer his. It wasn’t because his pride was wounded nor was his ego bruised after you had rejected him days ago, but the reason he still couldn’t get himself together was because his expectations of having a complete family was slapped by the reality that you and him could never, ever be the same again.

In those three years where you had been away, it seemed that you were the only one who had truly moved on while he was still stuck on that false hope that one day, you would return. One day, you will come back. He might even be lucky enough to be forgiven for his past mistakes. But since none of that happened and would happen in the future, Satoru couldn’t hide just how devastatingly shattered he was both inside and outside. There was no way of fixing such a man like him anymore.

“Come on,” Suguru continued to insist, reaching for the glass on Satoru’s hand while signaling his bartender to stop serving him drinks. As he was the owner of this bar, Suguru could might as well have the bouncers kick his best friend out at this point, but he knew that Satoru needed to release the buildup of pain inside him, so no matter how many times he would tell him to stop drinking, his warnings were futile. And in realizing this, Suguru let out a deep sigh. “It’s about time you let her go, Satoru. She’s moved on.”

The white-haired man laughed to himself—the kind of laugh that expressed agony rather than actual humor. “You know what’s funny?” he began, eyelids drooping heavily before he took another sip, “When I recovered some of my memories, I was so angry. I wanted to take my son away from her like she did to me. I was determined to act out of spite. I kept thinking about the situation for days and days and days, until my anger just ceased on its own because I realized that I truly can’t get mad at her given our situation, you know? I can’t stay angry at her when I also remember all the fucking things I did to her.” Satoru tightened his grip on the glass, so much that he could almost crush it. “And then she came to my office crying and telling me how I have no right to hurt her all over again. I felt like my whole world collapsed then and there. It was killing me how she was so sure that I’d ruin her again.”

Getou gave him slow, yet gentle pats on the back. “You made mistakes just as she made hers. You were both traumatized in different ways.”

“I made her miserable.” His voice was engulfed in sorrow. “I saw in her eyes how scared she was at the thought of us being together again… but I just wanted a complete family of my own, Suguru. It doesn’t matter to me if she loves someone else. I don’t want Sachi to grow up with a broken family like I did.”

His best friend’s eyes were full of sympathy. But aside from the pity in his gaze, a hint of distaste also lingered behind it. “While you were spending the past few years punishing yourself because of the divorce, she was in New York building a relationship with another man. I don’t think there was ever a time she even thought of you, Satoru. She didn’t care about you until you got into an accident and she was being blamed for it. If she says she deserves better than you, then you deserve someone better, too.”

Someone better. What even was the definition of that? How could someone be better than his twin flame? How could he meet the right person who could fill that spot when you were the only person that owned all of his heart and soul?

“Don’t say it like that,” Gojou softly replied before downing the liquor and feeling the spirit burning his throat.

“But it’s true.” Suguru shrugged. “Who knows she might have fallen for Toji way back when she was still married to you. Isn’t it baffling how fast she was able to move on? You’ve suffered for years thinking that your child was dead, while she was out there letting another man act as your son’s father. You’re allowed to be mad at her, Satoru. Don’t invalidate your feelings out of guilt.”

Fuck. The patchy memories of him breaking down in the hospital made Satoru finish his glass of whiskey. And another. And another. It had to stop; these painful memories, these painful emotions, this painful truth. He had lost count of the amount of liquor that he had forced down his throat until his senses were becoming more and more uncoordinated. His vision was hazy and his emotional state was entering its euphoric state now that he was indeed intoxicated. At least, even if this feeling was temporary, he had still managed to find an escape from the soreness of his heart. Time was moving fast every time he closed his eyes and opened them again—with faces of strangers passing by, with bass boosted music ringing in his ears, with… with Akemi’s beautiful face in his line of sight. Was this a dream?

“God, you’re really drunk,” spoke the woman before him. She cupped his cheeks with her soft hands and made him look at her chocolate brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

Satoru’s defensive instinct was to pull her hand away. “W-Why are you here?”

Suguru was the one who confirmed the reason for the woman’s arrival. “Akemi, you made it,” he said to her before gesturing his chin towards his best friend. “He’s fucking gone. He throws a tantrum every time we tell him to stop drinking.”

Because of the excessive alcohol in his system, Gojou was fading in and out of consciousness while Akemi and Getou were having their conversation. He could hear their muffled voices, but was too numb to react and join in. Hell, he didn’t even know he was already leaning his head on Akemk’s shoulder as she held him in her arms with all her strength.

“How long have you two been here, Suguru?”

“Around ten? Like, maybe two hours ago.”

“His mom’s really worried. She’s the one who messaged me.”

“I know. Should we take him home?”

“Fuck off,” Satoru muttered, detaching himself from Akemi and Suguru and turning around to face the bartender. “Hey… You… Another glass.”

Akemi sat on the stool next to him and rubbed his back. “Satoru, you could get alcohol poisoning, you know?”

He refused, stubbornly. “Don’t nag at me. If you’re gonna drag me home, then don’t waste your time because—”

“I get it. I get you, so I won’t,” she bargained expertly as if she had dealt with a drunkard before, “I’ll let you talk about your feelings until you’re satisfied, but you can’t drink anymore.”

Gojou lowered his head and chuckled mindlessly. “You can’t make me do that.”

Contrary to his claim, she actually did. And she did it by snatching the glass from his hand, only to drink the liquor straight without hesitation. She didn’t even grimace despite the strong taste of the whiskey. “I’m gonna drink every glass you’ll order, then.”

“‘Hime.” Satoru smiled, glancing at her red lips and her equally red cheeks. “You can’t handle alcohol.”

She took the challenge with a cute determined expression on her face. “Try me, ‘Toru.”

That was how the rest of the night was spent with drunken confessions and emotional outbursts. Gojou let every repressed feeling, every memory, every bit of his vulnerability out in the open knowing that he had someone listening to him. He had someone who offered her shoulders for him to cry on. He had someone whom he could vent on and not worry about being judged. Someone who smiled with him, laughed with him, and cried with him. When Getou told him he deserves someone better, was that ‘someone’ Akemi?

“Y/N said… she’d be so much happier…” Gojou tried to stop himself from wobbling in the parking lot, “...without me.”

Akemi, who had to take at least two glasses in Satoru’s stead, was also struggling to walk straight. “She’s both too good and too bad for you.”

He grinned through the heavy ache in his chest. “She faked her abortion… What if I fake my death in return? Maybe she’d be fully happy by then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Satoru. That’ll mess her up.”

While thinking of a response, he stumbled and nearly fell forward. He would have fallen face flat on the concrete floor if not for the woman who caught him at the perfect timing. “Did you know?”

Akemi looked up at him with her drunken eyes. “What?”

Satoru took a deep breath and looked up at the blanket of stars above him. “She told me to… find someone else.”

At the mention of that, your voice echoed inside his head, reminding him of the last advice you gave him before you walked out of his office (and ultimately, his life):

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” Agonizing silence suddenly filled the air. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

Was that ‘someone’ the same woman who continued to care for him as they stumbled inside her apartment at 3 AM? Someone who, in her insobriety, admitted how she wished he could finally accept that you were not the only woman he could ever love in this lifetime? What Akemi said was true. Drunk or not, Satoru was aware that he should open his eyes and realize that life was so much more than just hopelessly wishing for an estranged ex-wife to come running back into his arms. He caused you irreparable damage which, in turn, led you to do the same to him. The only way to get out of this loop was by learning how to forgive and let go.

You already made your choice, and that choice didn’t involve Satoru anymore.

“Isn’t it crazy?” A tipsy Akemi slurred as she helped Satoru sit on her couch. Her milky skin was glistening under the ambient lights—her chest looking like a blank canvas that he could freely paint on. “Y/N asked me a favor to keep an eye on you. I couldn’t tell her how dangerous her request was.”

Satoru got up, pressed his forehead against hers, and gripped her small waist while tracing her curve with the palm of his hand. “Why?”

“Because…” She looked up to meet his icy blue eyes. Her long lashes were heavily fluttering as she released a dejected sigh. “Because I might not be able to stop myself from falling for you.”

He blinked slowly and took it all in despite his inability to properly rearrange his thoughts. “That’s bad, huh?”

“Very bad,” she mumbled, burying his face on his chest while hugging him close. It was her liquor courage that allowed her to speak what was on her mind. “I know you wouldn’t dare catch me, too.”

Gojou embraced her tighter, holding onto her presence with fear that she might just be a figment of his imagination. “What if I will?”

The warmth coming from her slender body was in contrast to the cold tip of her index finger that she used to trace his lower lip. “Then, please don’t let me go.”

You see, in Gojou’s head, he wished that he had heard that from someone else. A specific someone whom he married and had a child with. Someone he wanted to care for until his hair turns gray and wrinkles start to appear on his face. Someone he vowed to love for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others until death do you part.

Death wasn’t the reason you two have parted. It was his failure as a husband, a lover, and a childhood friend. It was your unyielding decision to close your heart to him and be in the arms of another man. It was your cursed marriage that was never bound to work in the beginning as if the author of this romance book had always planned for a tragic ending.

But with Akemi right here in front of him, could he finally find his happily ever after?

As they held each other under the dark with nothing but the moonlight illuminating the dimmed room, Satoru touched her cheek and told her, “Thank you for being here for me.” And before he knew it, he was already diving in for a deep kiss. A kiss that felt so warm and tender. A kiss that felt so gentle and affectionate. A kiss that felt so oddly comforting. When was the last time he had kissed someone like this? He couldn’t remember, but he was too engulfed from the intensity of it and could feel himself reaching cloud nine.

He kissed her more. More. More. He kissed her passionately and enjoyed the sweet taste of her lips, sucking her lower lip until she allowed him access to her tongue. He relished from the synchronizing movements of their mouths as if they couldn’t get enough of just a simple kiss.

So, naturally, they moved to the bed.

And he undressed her the same way she undressed him, peeling her underwear to strip her bare while she was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

And then he was on top of her, mapping her collarbone with his love bites. Her soft, milky flesh was filled with proof of how much Satoru had kissed her body.

And the next events were nothing but hazy memories of him intertwining their hands together, of her wrapping her bare legs around his hips, of him burying his member deep inside of her, of her scratching his back with every pound, of him squeezing her tender breast, of her moaning so wantonly in his ear, of them banging the walls all night because of the bed’s continuous movements.

“S-Satoru…!” She held on his shoulders the minute he was increasing his pace. Each thrust made her clench around his girth, forcing a guttural moan out of him as he felt how warm she was.

He lowered his head to kiss her forehead. “You’re so… beautiful.”

Frankly, that was the most he could remember while under the influence of alcohol.

“I could love you,” he raspily whispered to her after they were done doing the deed and he was now holding her on top of him as they tried to catch their breaths—their cold sweats making their bodies glisten under the moonlight. She could probably hear the beat of his heart as he embraced her tightly. “I just need to learn how to properly do it.”

She lazily moved her head upwards so she could peck his lips. “You can take your time.”

You were happy.

Repeat. You were happy. You were blissful. You were… (what else was a perfect word to describe it?) elated? Yes, you were that. You had to be that.

Things were back to normal ever since your last encounter with Gojou and you had nothing else to focus on except your business, your family, your fiancé, and most especially, your son. Satoru had long been out of the picture, but you already prepared for the moments where he would have to spend time with Sachiro, which also meant that you two would still cross paths every now and then. There was nothing wrong with that. You were simply worried that your ex-husband might find it unbearable to still see you around while knowing full well that you were living in your own domestic bubble without him. It must feel like you were rubbing it in his face how you were going to get married to the right man this time around, but you sincerely hoped that Satoru wouldn’t see it that way. What you hoped for was for him to simply wish for your happiness in life the same way he did on the day of your wedding to Toji.

Toji. As for him, you finally could spend ample time together to compensate for the lack of attention you had given him because of your whole family charade with Gojou. No matter how much Toji would deny that it didn’t matter to him since you did it out of consideration for your ex-husband’s amnesia, it was obvious that he did eventually reach his limit and it was the reason why he had revealed the divorce to him in the first place. He wasn’t being petty nor was he acting on jealousy. You were now seeing his actions as him protecting you from getting deeply involved with the man who made you hesitate walking down the aisle on your second wedding. To think of it, Toji must have been scared. Because if you ran away from your wedding after seeing Gojou again, how much more if you had to keep pretending to be your ex-husband’s wife for God knows how long? Toji surely believed that you might end up not even wanting to push through with your marriage anymore.

But you were not going to let that happen. He was the present and future now, and Satoru was just a past. You didn’t know how many times you had already reminded yourself of that, but you still found yourself clinging to that reminder every time you get up in the morning to see the face of another man. Not the one with white hair and blue eyes, but the one with dark hair and a scar on his lip.

“I’ll drop you off at work,” he offered as soon as you woke up next to him, “Then I can drop Sachiro at daycare after.”

You leaned in to give him his gentle morning kiss. “You might be too busy.”

“It’s okay. I can adjust my schedule for you.”

What a truly lucky woman you were.

This was your life now. Someday, you two would have to live under the same roof and have your own family. You would have to cook him breakfast, prepare his clothes, fix his necktie, and wish him a good day at work. It wouldn’t be your first time doing it for a ‘husband’, but you assured yourself that things would be better the second time around. You wouldn’t be subjected to an adulterous marriage, deception, and manipulation. You had forgiven Gojou for that and you weren’t blaming him anymore, however, part of you could still remember the times you had to sleep on an empty bed, or the times you had to cover up his cheating just to save face in front of your family, or the times you had cried yourself to sleep wondering when your husband would finally treat you as his wife. Some people might say that you were clinging onto his wrongdoings far too much than the times where he actually showed character development once he had fallen in love with you, but… your scars were deep and they never faded. So even if you have completely healed, it was normal for you to occasionally look back on how the wound was caused.

The same goes for him. Despite saying that he was willing to forgive you for hiding his child, you were completely aware that you caused him unforgivable pain, too. He must be struggling with the memories of him suffering for the past three years and he was doing his best to just not be reminded of it all. It was a matter of learning to forgive, but not exactly forget.

And again, with the choice you made, you had to be happy.

Your heart was in peace because you were doing everything to own up to your decision. You had to live your life the same way you had been living back in New York where you had all the space to only think about your son and your career. What was so different this time around? It should be a normal day at Hearte and you presented yourself as this cheerful boss that they adored when you entered the office that morning, greeting every employee, and thanking them for showing up to work on time.

The marketing department and the social media manager were the ones who had been fairly busy after the launch because they have had to deal with the online backlash, but you trusted your team and they made sure to do some damage control to prevent your fashion line from earning a bad reputation before it could even make a name in the industry. On the brighter side, everything else was less hectic as compared to the weeks before your launch. Now, you had to start planning the concept for the upcoming summer collection and your days would mostly be occupied by meetings, but there was no rush in doing such since you also had to monitor the sales department to know which pieces were selling versus those that weren’t.

Exclusivity was big for luxury brands and that was what you were striving for. Though, it was an utter lie for you to say that the opinion of the general public wouldn’t matter when every feedback that you receive could actually help you determine how your brand was being perceived. Constructive criticism was beneficial in that sense. What wasn’t okay was the unnecessary hate you were getting from strangers who didn’t even know anything about your life. Ian constantly told you not to read the comment section on articles, at least for your peace of mind, and you did find it much better for your mental health when you stopped reading about the false claims that people were saying about you.

Besides, the only other person who could attest to the things you had been through back in New York was your best friend, Akemi, who was oddly late for work today.

“Feels weird that I’m earlier than you,” you quipped, casually walking inside her office to see her scrambling to open her laptop. She did not meet your eyes when you walked in and instead, did as much to avoid it. “Is everything okay?”

It looked as if she was shaking away a deep thought. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. The subway was too crowded today.”

“That’s okay. Are you really not going to accept my offer, though?” you said, sitting on the couch while browsing through the moodboard on your iPad. “It’ll help you manage your commute time if you have your own car.”

Akemi adamantly shook her head, but still sounded grateful for your consideration. “Buying me a car of my own isn’t your responsibility, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, you can have the Corvette if you want. I’ve been planning to buy a convertible BMW, anyway. It’s less flashy.” With all this car talk, there was one person that reminded you who was into collecting sports cars back when he was a child until now, and you smiled fondly as you remembered how he fulfilled that dream the moment he became an adult. Unfortunately, that car was caught in a collision and you had no idea whether or not he would still get a replacement for it. “The Corvette kinda looks like a cheaper version of Satoru’s McLaren, isn’t it? That’s why I wanna let go of it. I wanna let go of everything that reminds me of him.”

Your friend didn’t respond to your joke the way you expected. In fact, she stopped typing on her laptop as soon as you mentioned your ex-husband’s name. “...Ah, is that so?”

Your response was to nod and look at her. “Yeah. Oh, I don’t think I’ve told you this yet because I’ve been so busy, but he and I decided to co-parent Sachiro. He was actually surprisingly cooperative about it.”

“Was he?” She continued checking her emails, but her voice was getting softer. Perhaps she was just as surprised as you were because who knew that Satoru Gojou would actually choose to be amicable with his ex-wife instead of filing a custody claim?

“I told him to move on,” you recounted the emotional conversation as you got up and stared at the floor to ceiling window, “I’d really love it if he finds someone new. He deserves it too, you know? He also had a hard time when I left him and I don’t want this loneliness to eat his heart away. He’s a really sweet lover as long as he’s with someone he genuinely adores, so if he meets the right woman someday, I’d be happy. I’d wish him well. And despite everything, I’ll always keep him in my heart.” God, you didn’t even know why you were pouring everything out to her right now, but you couldn’t tell these feelings to your family without receiving comments on the side. At least, Akemi wouldn’t do that. She had always been receptive to your feelings and had proven herself to be unbiased with her judgment, so it was okay for you to release how you truly felt about your ex-spouse. “Satoru is my first love and he’ll always remain that.”

It was nice, truthfully. It was such a nice feeling to reminisce your childhood with him, especially before his parents’ relationship affected the way he perceived the world. Satoru Gojou used to be a harmless child who dreamed of having his own family with the person he loved. Even back then, he was a hopeless romantic. He craved for love and attention, and was the happiest whenever he received it. Things might have changed when you two grew older, but you were certain that Satoru was slowly returning to the old him. All he needed was the right person by his side.

You didn’t hear anything from Akemi except her keeping her head down and sniffing silently, wiping her eyes as she hid the tears that flooded them. Silly you. You probably moved her to tears with your poignant confession. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d cry from that,” you said, chuckling to lighten up the conversation.

“No, it’s just…” She struggled from an internal thought before taking a deep breath. “Y/N, you're the strongest and most genuine person I’ve met, and I truly do love you as a friend. I… I don’t deserve you at all.”

You walked to her table and offered a handkerchief to wipe her tearful eyes. “Hey, I should be the one telling you that. I feel like I ask too much from you. I know you’re constantly checking on Gojou even though you’re busy, so I appreciate that you’re going out of your way to make sure he won’t do anything harmful to himself.”

She tightened her grip on the Hermès cloth that you handed her. “Please don’t be too nice to me,” she pleaded, looking at you with a rueful gaze. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Hmm?” You waited patiently with wide eyes that were ready to understand whatever it was that she was going to say. But after a minute had passed, and another minute, and another minute more, all Akemi did was to cover her face with her shaky hands. It occurred to you that maybe she was going through a really difficult time and you sympathized with her emotional well-being knowing that she wasn’t usually the kind of person who would openly cry in front of someone. “It’s okay. If you can’t talk about it now, you can do it once you’re ready,” you reassured, rubbing her shoulder and deciding to give her some space. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I promise to repay you for being there for me.”

Akemi was a shitty friend. She didn’t need anyone telling her that because she was able to admit it herself. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat her actions in order to lessen the guilt in her heart, but it was that same guilt that prevented her from spilling the whole truth to her best friend.

How could she do that? You see, she asked that to herself countless times the morning she woke up after her drunken session with your ex-husband, and she still couldn’t stop herself from being too overwhelmed by the idea of betraying her friend. So, to ask herself again, how could she do that?

Firstly, why don’t we list down the reasons why Akemi was considering herself as a terrible friend?

Sleeping with your best friend’s ex is not okay.

It’s not okay! Although to be fair, she and Satoru were too intoxicated to control their actions. They were driven by lust and high emotions, which were major key factors as to why two individuals—particularly that of a man and woman—would resort to sleeping together. Aside from that, Gojou had been divorced for three years, so technically, he was free to sleep with whoever he wanted. He wasn’t tied to anyone nor was he cheating on anyone.

But the thing was, that was still such a sickening mindset and Akemi was angry at herself that she even clung to that defense at the pinnacle of her guilt.

Falling in love with your best friend’s ex is even worse.

The worst! She knew how wrong it was, but how could she explain it to you that she never expected to grow such feelings for your ex-husband? How could she stop herself when she had to spend time with him as if she was already his lover? It was an inevitable situation and she would consider it total bullshit if she denied the fact that she was attracted to him. With his good looks and charming personality, who could resist him? Obviously, she knew his red flags and she was aware of what had happened between you two, but she also recognized how extremely sorry he was for the things he did. She was a witness to Satoru’s side of the coin, which gave her a better understanding of him as a vulnerable, lonely person like she was. But should that be enough for her to start a relationship with the man?

No, that was not enough.

Hiding it from your best friend is inexcusable.

It’s betrayal! Even if she asked every person on this planet, they would all say the same thing. This situation was not livable and she had to tell you the truth if she really valued your friendship and respected you as a human being. She would need to break it to you and be prepared for the consequences of her actions. Would she lose her title as your trusted business partner? Would she lose her spot as your trusted friend? Would she lose you?

It crushed her heart that, yes, she definitely would.

But what about Gojou, you may ask? How did he feel about this? Well, that was exactly what burdened Akemi’s mind on the way to her apartment when you advised her to go home early so she could ‘rest her mind’. Little did you know, she couldn’t exactly free her mind from overthinking when she was too submerged by the flashbacks of her morning-after with your ex-husband.

“Akemi, what have we done…?” Satoru didn’t even hide it in his fully sober eyes that he was regretting what happened last night. The way he was moving away from her, the way he was quickly slipping a shirt on—did he not remember how he kissed her and told her he would learn to love her? Was he more bothered that he woke up in another woman’s bed and not yours?

Akemi would have been extremely hurt if only she wasn’t panicking herself. Because at the sight of your half-naked ex-husband in front of her, all she could think of was how you would feel had you known about this. This was wrong. Wrong in every sense and in every angle. She unknowingly and dangerously threw herself in the middle of love and friendship, and now it became an internal conflict that she could not escape. “I… I don’t know. We were drunk and it just… happened.”

Gojou looked at her and said nothing. Nothing! And that was the scariest part because it seemed like he was going to lose it once he opened his mouth. He was clearly thinking about how wrong it was and how it would hurt you. You. Not her feelings, but yours. Akemi was sure that his mind was only filled with you when he headed out to the balcony. “Fuck. I need some fresh air.”

“Wait, Satoru—”

“Let’s forget about last night,” was his curt reply when he walked away without even looking back.

She hasn’t even been explicitly rejected, yet why did it hurt so much?

They both did it, yet why was the pain so much heavier on her?

Akemi’s eyes were brimming with hot tears. She should have seen this coming. She should have stayed in her lane, remained sober, and didn’t let herself be entangled with a man whose history with his ex-wife was still fresh on his mind. What more could she expect?

No, there was nothing she should expect from him, so she swallowed her feminine pride and chased after him on the balcony, driven by an innate inhibition that made her disregard her feelings in order to protect her heart. With her hand clutching the towel around her chest, she stared at Gojou’s back as she approached him. “Satoru, it’s my fault…” she faltered, trying not to sound weak, “I know you think I’m a mistake and that you’ll just consider me a hookup that you’ll easily forget about, but I want you to know that I… I won’t get mad at you for it. You love Y/N and you feel sorry for her. I do, too. I didn’t mean to do this to her.”

When Satoru turned around, his stance was different from the one he showed in her bedroom. This time, his expression was apologetic as if he could feel pensive sadness at the sight of a guilt-ridden, teary-eyed Akemi. “I’m not blaming you. I’m sorry,” he immediately said, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between them. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m just mostly mad at myself because I dragged you into this when you’re her friend.”

“We were intoxicated.” That was the excuse, but also the plain truth.

“I know.” He ran his thumb across her cheek to wipe her faint tears. “I’d still own up to it. Don’t blame yourself. You already do so much for me.”

She didn’t expect the next words that suddenly came out of her mouth. They became fluid with a bottle cap to stop them from spilling. “But I willingly did those things for you.” And just before she realized the meaning behind her statement, it was too late to take it back.

Gojou was already rubbing his temple with a mirthless laugh. “Akemi, don’t get attached to me. You deserve better.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.” She held his hand and squeezed it. “Yet you’re just making it harder for me to leave you alone.”

The man sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, letting the tips of his white hair fall messily before his eyes. “Do you remember what I said before you fell asleep in my arms?” he asked while seemingly in an inner turmoil of his own.

Just when she thought he didn’t remember their sweet moment post-sex. Here he was reminding her of it and it was causing an exponential increase in her heartbeat. It was crystal clear that he was referring to the part where he said he could love her, but he would have to learn how to properly do it first. Was that him finally considering the idea of starting new with someone else? Was that him finally letting you go? Surely, it was a domino effect that required both. “I do...”

“I’m sorry I got you involved.” He closed his eyes as if he was cursing himself mentally. “I think it’s best that we just forget about what happened between us.”

She completely understood why, but deep inside her, she couldn’t hide how much it stung. “We should pretend it never happened,” she agreed, “You can’t dive into another relationship right away.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she returned.

…

……

………

Normally, this was the part where they would have to separate and just move on with their lives. This was the part where Gojou would walk out of her apartment and promise to himself that he would never come back. After all, Akemi meant nothing to him. She didn’t mean anything to him. Yet why did he hesitate? Why did he spend another minute of silence staring at her eyes as though he was contemplating about taking risks and starting anew?

Satoru had two roads in front of him, and he ended up going to the path that led to her.

How did he establish his choice? He did it by kissing her. It wasn’t just him leaning in and crashing his lips onto hers. It was also her stepping forward at the same time to meet his lips with an affectionate kiss as if their attraction to one another was brought by gravity. They shared a deep, passionate kiss like they were sucking each other’s presence with the movements of their mouths. There was no going back anymore. They were both sober, both able to remember this moment with a clear vision. They were both lonely, but not when they were next to each other. And by the time he pulled away, his cerulean eyes were coruscating under the sunlight. They reflected sorrow, but also hopefulness. “She said I… I should move on and be with someone else,” he claimed, recalling the words that must have been flooding his mind.

Akemi tugged his shirt. “Then, what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know…” His breathing became still. “I just can’t promise you commitment right now.”

“We can take it slow,” she offered, “We can figure it out.”

Satoru pulled her to his chest. “She’s gonna spend the rest of her life hating me for this,” he stated, pressing his lips on her temple, “But Suguru’s right, too. I deserve to find my own happiness with someone else, just like how she found hers with another man.”

“You do.” She tightened her arms around his torso. “I know this is so fucked up and I’m a really shitty fucking friend, but… I’m a mess. I’m a mess, Satoru. I like you and I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but I want to be loved and I know that’s what you need, too.”

He pulled away, only because he wanted to see how genuine her eyes were. “Do you think you can handle someone like me?”

Her mind said no, but her heart said, “Yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You hadn’t heard from Gojou for the past two weeks despite telling you that he was going to contact you about a formal schedule on when he should be allowed to see his son. You were simply waiting for his word, concluding that he might be having a really hectic week at the Gojou Group, which was why he couldn’t even reach out to you. It even came to a point where you were tempted to just contact him first, but Ian told you that you shouldn’t initiate anything and to just wait for your ex-husband to decide on his own.

Frankly, you didn’t want to rush into it. You were just worried because Sachiro had been asking you about when he could see his dad and you couldn’t bear having to explain again and again that his father was a busy man.

The waiting game sucked.

But also, you were able to pay attention to more important things. During the period of waiting for Satoru to contact you, you discussed some things about the co-parenting setup with your family, mainly pointing out that you wanted to change Sachiro’s legal name to his father’s. It was something that you had already decided on back when you were in New York because you did anticipate that Satoru would want to make his son carry his name for legal purposes, especially since Sachiro would (assumingly) be the sole heir to his multinational conglomerate. At first, Gen rejected the idea believing that Satoru could use it against you in the future, but it was your father that reasoned with her, stating that changing Sachiro’s family name wouldn’t mean that your ex-husband would also have the custodial rights. And since Ian was there to confirm it, they eventually agreed to your plans.

Now, the only problem was executing the plan with your baby daddy and convincing him about flying to New York City within the next few weeks so that you two could fix Sachiro’s birth certificate and citizenship.

Nine days, you counted. It took Satoru nine days to finally contact you and he did it through Miwa who sent you such a professional email about her boss’ request to have Sachiro’s weekends spent with him. The schedule was still favorable for you because your ex-husband only wanted Fridays to Sundays while the rest of the week was all yours to have. Fair enough. But you still called Miwa that afternoon to ask her if you could meet with her boss personally and talk to him about New York.

“Ms. Y/N, how are you?” she quickly greeted you as soon as she answered the phone.

“I’m great. How ‘bout you?” you returned her cordiality, “You didn’t have to be so formal with the email and all. You could have just told me through text.”

You could sense her apologetic smile on the other end of the line. “Chairman wanted to make sure that everything will be communicated professionally. He didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you.”

“I see…” You let out an awkward laugh. So, he really wanted to stay professional now, huh? “Is he still in the office? I was thinking of meeting up with him at the coffee shop across the street.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Y/N. He went home early today.”

In that case, you hoped he wouldn’t mind if you visited him at the penthouse personally. You two broke it off on good terms now (and you still left a few things in your shared home), so you figured that there was no harm in coming back to that sentimental place. Besides, you could use the excuse of picking up some of the bags you had left in the closet before you could proceed to actually propose your plans for Sachiro. You were already looking forward to seeing his reaction once you told him that you were willing to have Sachiro acquire his family name because your ex-husband himself had always wanted his son to be acknowledged by the whole world as his heir.

Though, another tiny little problem with that was the media’s knowledge about your son, and Toji was the one who reminded you of it while you were driving through the city.

“No one really knows about Sachi aside from us,” he pointed out a fact that you seemed to have overlooked, “The public speculates that you had a miscarriage after the infidelity scandal was exposed, while some others think you secretly gave birth to him in New York. They know you’re a private person, but not to that extent, you get what I mean? They’d come for you if they found out that what you told Satoru was that you terminated your pregnancy. You know how cancel culture works in this society. People are gonna boycott your brand and send you a tirade of hateful words online.”

You held back a sigh as you maneuvered the car to the left. “Maybe, I… I can talk to Gojou about it.”

“About what?”

“About announcing it in public that he and I have a child together,” you introduced the idea, “Or is that uncomfortable for you?”

He denied it straight away. “It’s fine with me if he’s gonna cooperate with you.”

“Okay…”

“You do what’s best. I gotta go,” said your fiancé, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright, bye. I love you.”

That should add another reason on your list as to why you do need to have this talk with your ex-husband in person. Aside from your initial plan, you would also have to try and let him understand why it would be advantageous for the both of you to voluntarily reveal Sachiro’s existence instead of letting it be exposed by the media, because that would be problematic, not only for his and your of your publicities, but also for your son who would be in the middle of all this.

But what if Gojou decided to turn his back on you after you announce your child to the public? What if he exposed you himself and tell them that you lied about your abortion? What if he provided all the receipts of you hiding your child in another country while he was suffering from depression back in Japan?

That would truly be the end of you.

You still had hope, though. You had hope because you knew that Satoru was not the kind of person who would destroy you anymore. He was now the kind of man who would beg for his ex-spouse to come back, swallow his pride, and willingly subject himself to be a victim of adultery as long as you would become his wife again. If he could extend his vulnerability that much for you, then would you truly believe that he was still hell bent on getting his revenge?

You were a sanguine person to begin with, and you kept that positive mindset as you finally stepped out of the elevator before walking to the foyer of the penthouse. It took you by surprise when you saw that your wedding portraits were neatly stacked in a corner along with your bags, shoes, and other things that you owned as if this home no longer offered any space for you. Satoru must have decided to throw them away now, but why did that cause tiny pricks in your heart?

“Satoru?” you called, increasing the volume of your voice in this seemingly empty house. “Satoru, I’m here.”

Should you just ring his phone? Or should you see him in the bedroom? Or perhaps he was busy reading books in his home office?

“Y/N?” The answer was there when he was descending the staircase in a hasty manner. His hair, disheveled. His chest, glistening with sweat. He had nothing but sweatpants on so it made more sense that he was in the gym prior to coming down. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” You smiled and tried to be casual, putting your feet together and keeping a safe distance from your ex-husband. His crystal blue eyes did not shine when he looked at you. “I just wanted to talk to you about, um… Well, I was planning for us three to go to New York and fix Sachi’s papers.”

Satoru looked uneasy, but still presented a composed version of himself as he placed his hands inside his pockets. “You mean change his name?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that. I know we can have people process the papers for us, but I also thought that it could be a great opportunity for me to also show you where and how I raised him back there.”

“Okay.” His answer was short, but direct to the point. And as he looked away from you, he was throwing his head back as if he was trying to free himself from all the stress that he was possibly experiencing internally. What made you curious was the haze of guilt in his eyes. “Listen, can we just have this talk another day? Better yet, just set the date on when you wanna go to New York and we can fly private.”

His dismissive attitude made you regret coming here at all, but how stupid could you be? Of course, it wasn’t like things were sunshines and rainbows between you two now. He probably still held some grudge from your last conversation. “Alright,” you softly replied, “I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I didn’t mean to disturb your peace or anything. I was just excited to let you know that we can change Sachi’s name.”

He slightly turned away. “Did you come here alone? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’m fine. I drove here,” you insisted, stuffing your throat with the awkward air. “I’ll personally take Sachi to you this weekend. He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

You kept a steady breath and considered whether it was the best time to leave. He must be feeling so lonely and you were the cause of it. You were even shoving it at him by going here. “Gojou, I’m sorry if I was too harsh last time.”

“Y/N, stop apologizing. I don’t deserve it,” he quickly replied and shook his head, “You said you’ll be happier without me. So unless it’s necessary, let’s not cross each other’s paths anymore, okay?”

Damn. “Yeah, I guess we—”

“Satoru?”

You must be dreaming. You must be fucking dreaming.

Because if you weren’t and if this was your devastating reality, then why was Akemi Hirai coming down the stairs with nothing but your husband’s shirt on? Why did your best friend look horrified as soon as she noticed your presence in this penthouse that you, for a year, lived in as Satoru Gojou’s wife? Why was she hiding her face behind him as if she was in deep shame?

Speechless. That was what you were as you ended up scoffing at the ridiculousness of this situation. You stood unblinking, unable to process the sight in front of you. “I…” You couldn’t even find the right words! “I… I’m confused. Why are you…?”

Gojou was clearly panicking, but he was also focused on measuring your possible outburst. “Y/N, I was going to tell you about this.”

You clenched your hand into a fist. “...Are you together?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Akemi said “yes” and Satoru said “no”.

“It’s complicated,” your ex-husband tried to pacify, reaching out for your arm before you moved away. He was looking so desperate as if you had caught him cheating on you the same way he used to do with Sera. “I’m sorry. I know you’re mad right now and you deserve to be, but please just direct your anger at me. Don’t get mad at ‘Kemi.”

They were even on a nickname basis now, too? You were a minute away from exploding, yet all you could do was stare at them in catatonic stupor. “Since when?” you questioned, eyeing your best friend. “Akemi?”

“A c-couple days ago,” she answered with a quivering voice and tear-filled eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

“I’m not hurt,” you claimed—your mouth, tight and grim. Your expression, cold and unrelenting. Still, you couldn’t help but notice how both of their lips were swollen from all the kissing they must be having. It made you feel sick inside. “This just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Doesn’t it, really? Or were you just in denial of the fact that this was bound to happen one way or another? She had been spending time with him even back when he was at the hospital. She had been comforting him up to when he learned about the divorce. She had been there for him when he recovered most of his memories. She was his confidant, a friend he could count on, a person he could lean on. She was his Toji. So, what right do you have to get mad? What right do you have when, not more than two weeks ago, you were the one shoving your ‘happy relationship with Toji’ to Satoru’s face? What right do you have when you were the one who told him to find someone else to love so he could stop chasing after you? What right do you have when… when… deep, deep down, you knew that Akemi was the perfect woman for him?

Betrayal? How could she betray you when you were divorced? How could she have wronged you when you were the one who had unknowingly pushed this agenda?

Questions. Too many questions. Too many emotions.

“Y/N.” Satoru held your hand. “Let’s talk about it.”

They must have pitied you. “No. Just answer me honestly,” you said, pulling your hand away and preventing the pain from gnawing at your chest, “Are you using my best friend to get back at me? Because if that’s the case…”

His gaze lingered between you and her, contemplating his answer before opening his mouth to confirm how he truly felt. Truthfully, he looked emotionally exhausted. He looked absolutely over it as though he just wanted to completely stop associating himself with you and all the melancholic memories of your past, probably wishing to himself that he just wanted a break and a new life without any trace of his ex-wife. As the thought of it sent a pang to your chest, you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to hear his response. “I’d like to start new with her,” he said, feeling sorry for you, “I wanna get to know her more and perhaps make things work. I was gonna ask for your permission, but—”

“Stop.” You forced an upward curve on your lips as you avoided both of their eyes. He wanted to ask your permission? He was making you look pathetic with that statement alone. “I get it. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m still your wife or anything.” Being a woman was such a difficult role, wasn’t it? Because now you have to protect your feelings by putting on a mask before proceeding to ramble. “It’s none of my business anymore and I’m glad you listened to my advice. Just don’t… don’t you ever break Akemi’s heart.”

Satoru looked down, clearly cognizant of your ingenuity. “I won’t.”

Akemi, who had been wiping her dampened cheeks, walked closer to pull you into a tight hug. “Y/N, I’m really, really sorry… I don’t know how else I can ask for forgiveness. I’ll go down on my knees if you want me to.”

Stop. Stop. STOP!

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” As odd as it may seem, you stayed calm and withdrew yourself from her embrace. Everything else after that was you trying to be civil as you turned to Gojou while preparing to leave. “I’ll contact Miwa about New York, but if you can’t make it, then I can just process the papers myself.”

Was it because he felt sorry that was why he offered you a sympathetic gaze? “No, no. I’ll be there with you, Y/N. I promise. Us—you, me, and Sachi.”

You didn’t have the strength to say anything anymore. You didn’t have the ability to react. All you could think of right now was to leave as soon as you can, walk as fast as you can, and step back inside the elevator knowing that your departure wouldn’t mean anything much to those two people up in the penthouse. In this puzzling situation, you ended up staring at the view of the city from the glass walls of the elevator as the platform lowered down level by level.

It was unfair for you, but did you consider that maybe, it was unfair for them, too? It was unfair for Akemo who might have tried her best not to fall in love despite always voicing out how much she was wishing to be in a relationship again. It was unfair for Satoru who was now finding his fresh new start with someone who could actually accept him for who he was. There was no betrayal. There was no cheating. Just two people who didn’t mean to catch feelings for one another, and you were once again the antagonist that was holding them back from their happily ever after.

How funny was it that this felt like Sera all over again when it shouldn’t be?

Unfortunately, you couldn’t hold it any longer when you broke down inside the elevator with no one else to comfort your pain but yourself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[catbot158]

Imposter Factory: I Beat It (Non-Spoiler)

So I finished Imposter Factory, the sequel to Kan Gao’s To The Moon and Finding Paradise games. I have been in love with To The Moon since I played it all the way back in 2012, and I have never stopped loving it, no matter how many times I have replayed it. However, I only played Finding Paradise once, and while I thought it was just as good as its predecessor, I had a harder time connecting with it as I did with To The Moon, even though its themes were more relatable to me as a person. Still, I was excited for Imposter Factory; Kan Gao never fails to make me laugh, think, and cry in the span of a few moments, and the few images we’ve gotten over the last two and a half years since its announcement have only made the hype grow. So of course I forgot about it until release day, and in a panic I bought it and played it right away. Naturally.

The only two things I knew going into Imposter Factory were twofold: 1) the basic synopsis (which even that I doubted) on the Steam page, and 2) the concept that IF’s main themes were “in-between” TTM and FP. Other than that, I was going in blind, and I think that’s for the best. The game is at its best when you are surrounded by the mystery of everything going on. What is this mansion you found yourself invited to? Who is this mysterious woman who is lurking around the place? And whose is murdering this lovely old couple with very wealthy connections? It hits the Agatha Christie vibes just right. You never know what is going to hit our intrepid hero, Quincey, next. 

But like the Steam page says, that is only the first third of the game. I won’t go into too much detail about the other two-thirds of the game, but I will say that the second half is more or less what you would come to expect from a Kan Gap game: exploring memories, collecting orbs, and moving on to the next memory. Except this time, there are no bickering scientists one-lining their way through a person’s life- instead, Quincy is the one in control, and this alone is an interesting concept. Quincy has no clue as to where he is and what these orbs do, and that makes for an interesting twist on the formula. We aren’t following indifferent but sympathetic workers, but a person with a kind heart, and so his reactions to the memories he witnesses are much more raw and emotional...when he reacts. There are times where he just seems emotionless, even when he really shouldn’t be. That’s a shame, because Quincy is a fun guy to hang out with otherwise. He actually cracked me up more than Dr. Neil Watts has, and Neil is a comedic king in these games. Just it feels like he probably should’ve had a companion with him to bounce off of during the second third of the game, to add some levity to the proceedings. While a little cheesy and unnecessary during the serious parts, Rosaline and Neil were fun characters to hang out with, and its a shame they’re not controllable this time around. 

That isn’t the only issue plaguing IF. For one thing, there isn’t as much interactivity with the environment as there is in the previous games. You barely talk to NPCs and there are barely any items to click on and read funny descriptions on. Also, the “memento” system is done away with: the orbs break open a barrier and you move on to the next section, no puzzles to solve to progress. I will admit that I didn’t miss the puzzles as much, but I did miss trying to find the next memento and seeing where the memento leads to; they gave a break from all the story we’re constantly surrounded by. These, along with Quincy’s relative silence during the second third, means IF has a more serious tone to it than the previous game before it, and while it does make it stand out from TTM and FP, the game also feels less memorable than those other two. TTM and FP were meme machines and had a lot of quirky moments to break up all the sad. Oh, except for Ricebot. Ricebot and the weird long cat were good.

My final problem with IF, however, is much grander than the other problems I’ve mentioned, but it is unfortunately a spoiler. I will do a spoiler post about IF later, but suffice it to say, it majorly affects everything about the game, and it did affect my overall enjoyment of the game. I know people are going to disagree with me on this, but I have to say what I feel. 

Overall, IF was definitely a fresh new twist on the series. The art was spectacular, there was actual animation this time that looked wonderful, I (mostly) enjoyed the new characters and the music is beautiful as always (though sadly Laura Shigihara did not sing anything this time :( though Leafpie did, so check that out). I do think, however, it’s the weakest of the three Sigmund Corps. games. The script isn’t as tight as before and the darker tone means we’re missing some of the series’ iconic humor, but there is still some good stuff to chew on here. I still almost cried again, so that is a good sign, at least.

(Also one note I want to make: Kan said that, like before, IP can be played without having played the other games in the series. I agreed with him when it came to FP, but this time I am going to have to disagree with him on IF: You should at least play Finding Paradise before playing Imposter Factory. I will not spoil why here: let’s just say that there are some things in FP that pop up again in IF.)

EDIT: I HAVE SAID THE SPOILERS. HERE ARE THE SPOILERS. Don’t kill me please lol

[mst3kproject]

The Monster Maker

I could have sworn J. Carroll Naish was on MST3K at some point but the only thing I can find from his filmography that has appeared on this blog is Dracula vs Frankenstein, in which he played Dr. D'Ray.  Not that it matters.  The Monster Maker's producer, Sigmund Neufeld, also brought us MST3K feature The Mad Monster, and writer Sam Newfield penned both that film and I Accuse my Parents (not to mention the world's only all-midget cowboy musical, Terror of Tiny Town), but mostly I'm watching this movie because... well, you know, it sucks.

I know what you're thinking, and as far as I can tell, no, Sigmund Neufeld and Sam Newfield are not the same guy who's just bad at pseudonyms.

Anthony Lawrence is one of the world's greatest pianists, but with a concert tour finished he's looking forward to relaxing and spending some time with his daughter Patricia and her fiance Bob.  Sadly, this is not to be, as Patricia has come to the attention of Dr. Igor Markov, who believes her to be the reincarnation of his dead wife Leonora.  He spends weeks harassing poor Pat, until her father storms over to Markov's office to tell him where he can shove his attentions. Little does Lawrence know he's walking into a trap.  Markov has been experimenting on animals in his basement, and if Lawrence doesn't hand over Patricia, the next syringe is for him!

I have mixed feelings about this movie.  It surprisingly subverts several tropes of the mad scientist movie, including some it deliberately sets up only to pull the rug out from under them, resulting in a surprisingly happy ending.  On the other hand, it does this in ways that aren't always very satisfying, and its treatment of the disabled is frightful.

For an illustrative example, let's take Dr. Markov's caged gorilla.  The movie never tells us why he has a caged gorilla.  He says it's vital to his work but we never see him do anything much with it... I assume it's there because the caged gorilla was a standard part of the mad scientist lab equipment in the 1940s and 50s.  The only time we see him interact with it is when he sets it loose in the middle of the night to murder his traitorous assistant, Maxine, who had threatened to go to the police.  We cut to the gorilla back in its cage the next morning, and we assume Maxine is dead – only to have her walk in and tell us that her protective dog drove the gorilla back to the lab.

This is kind of a fun moment, not only because it's a surprise but because everything in it was set up, not just the gorilla but the animosity between it and the dog.  It also enables the eventual happy ending – after Markov is killed, Patricia worries that nobody else will be able to help her father. However, Maxine is familiar with Markov's work, and assures her that Lawrence will be just fine with a few weeks of treatment.  That's all quite nice for a mad scientist movie of this vintage!  It's also interesting in that it tells us these tropes were around to be subverted – that audiences in 1944 had already seen enough stupid mad scientist movies to know that the gorilla is supposed to kill the traitorous assistant and that the ending is supposed to be a tragedy.

The problem is that this leaves the gorilla with no reason to be in the movie at all besides to fake us out.  It ultimately has no effect on the plot whatsoever other than to establish Markov as a bastard, which by now we already knew.  You cannot put Chekov's Gorilla in a cage in act one, wave it around in act two before putting it back with a 'psych!', and then not have it break somebody's neck in act three.  It still has to do something, or you're just being a tease.

The fact that Maxine is able to cure Lawrence speaks to the fact that The Monster Maker is surprisingly respectful of its women.  Maxine is quite intelligent and knows her love for Markov is self-destructive, but feels she has devoted too much of her life to him to leave him now.  Patricia is a less substantial character, but her father treats her with great respect – when Markov demands Patricia in exchange for a cure, Lawrence continues to refuse even after the mad doctor has robbed him of his friends, his passion, and his career.  Pat's fiance Bob has fewer principles, as he repeatedly lies to her in the belief that he is protecting her from the truth, but this too is presented as the wrong thing to do and I hope we're meant to believe Bob learns from it. The screenwriters' general attitude seems to be that women should be allowed to make up their own minds about things.

Markov, as the villain, is also the movie's misogynist, and this is in no way subtle.  He wants to marry Patricia because she resembles Leonora – and that's it.  Her personality, her background, and her wishes mean nothing to him.  All he cares about is her face.  What she represents to him is an attempt to undo the wrong he did to Leonora herself.  We eventually learn that Leonora left him for another man, and in revenge he injected her with his monster juice.  He had hoped that her new love would leave her because she was no longer beautiful, but in fact Leonora committed suicide because she couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror.

This tends to make one wonder what would have happened if Leonora had tried to crawl back to Markov.  At the time this happened, he didn't yet have a cure for his creations.  Would he have gone on to find one sooner in order to help her?  Or would he, too, have rejected her now that she was ugly?  I kind of suspect the latter.  He's only sorry about any of this because she died.  He wanted her back less than he wanted her to live in misery, knowing that without her looks she would have no value.

Interestingly, this also applies somewhat to Lawrence.  As his condition progresses, he locks himself in his room and puts records on so that nobody will realize he is now unable to play the piano... but he also keeps the lights off and refuses to admit anybody, too ashamed to show his face.  Ugliness apparently makes both sexes unfit company for the rest of us.

Markov himself speaks with a German accent despite having a Russian name. He manages to be slightly less creepy than the Great Vorelli or Dr. Carlo Lombardi, but only because he never resorts to rape via hypnosis.  Upon realizing he has found a cure for a terrible disease, his first reaction is to triumphantly declare that he can charge whatever he wants for it... eighty years later, that's still depressingly relevant.

So all this is okay and at times fairly progressive for the 1940s, but now we have to get into The Monster Maker's attitude towards the disabled.  I've been a little cagey about exactly what it is Dr. Markov is doing to his victims, and you've probably been picturing some sort of mutagen that makes them go all lumpy and melty like that guy in Robocop. Unfortunately, no.  Remember acromegaly, the hormonal disorder that Richard Kiel and Rondo Hatton suffered from?  Yeah.  Markov has a bottle of it in his cupboard.

I don't know how you bottle acromegaly, but at least they did better than the people who made Tarantula and fucking spelled it right.

Acromegaly is not a cheerful diagnosis.  Lawrence's doctor tells him it's not fatal, but that isn't always true – a lot of sufferers, including Hatton, die from the complications.  It disfigures the head, hands, and feet, and would definitely be a devastating disease for a pianist... all of which makes it that much worse that this stupid movie keeps using the word 'monster'.  Lawrence even describes himself as such, comparing his situation to that of Frankenstein's Monster and declaring that he will similarly kill Markov for what he has done to him.  In the end he does exactly that, and the movie never addresses it on any level besides 'boy, good thing the bad guy is dead!'

This is probably because, clearly, the real monster Markov has made is himself... but that's subtext.  In the text, his monsters are his overgrown pigs and Anthony Lawrence.  I just blasted Tarantula for spelling the name of the condition incorrectly, but that movie at least did not even imply that its human acromegaliacs were 'monsters'.  They were in every way victims, even when their sufferings were as a result of experimenting on themselves.  Lawrence is also a victim, but the movie plays up the 'monster' idea in more than just the title: Lawrence's condition also makes him restless and prone to violence, as he repeatedly attacks Markov and at one point must be tied to a bed to prevent him doing so.  Markov suggests that this is a side effect of the hormonal problems, but Lawrence's own belief that he's becoming a 'monster' also appears to have something to do with it.

In the end, this movie is way too much like The Brute Man, in telling us that the ugly and disabled can never be an accepted part of society.  Hal Moffat was forced into the shadows, while Anthony Lawrence takes to them voluntarily, but for the same reason: ugliness is made for gawking at, not for normal relationships such as that between partners, or parents and children.  Fuck that.

[hisakata-resutomoshibi]

Alright losers, we're going even deeper into the insanity now with

Part Two- Iori is a Scoundrel and We Should All Love Him

As I said previously in this post, I don't buy Mikuni's garbage for a second, and here is yet more proof why:

The other person Mikuni sends Nicco out after is Sigmund. By why? He's already proven himself useless and a blow hard; he hardly seems like a threat.

But. If he weren't really Sigmund, then there would reason for Mikuni to want to contact him.

Now back up a bit to chapter 72 when Tsurugi cuts ties with Touma and sides with Team Mahiru. The scene immediately switches to Mikuni in the control room watching everything and in strolls a head honcho who then asks Mikuni if "everything is going according to his plans". Mikuni neither confirms or denies and simply says "see for yourself" while waving to the screens, implying that this person knows what Mikuni is planning. At the time we don't know the identity of these mysterious loafer clad feet but now, with these last few chapters, I'm positive it's Iori.

Recall that after Iori's "death" they place his body in a basement room and while it has been stressed that magicians bodies must be dealt with carefully, there are no guards, no wards, nothing. Seem odd?

Even stranger is that when Sigmund then insists on going down to see Iori's body (probably some angsty full on no-homo regret shit but I hate him so I'm not going to bother thinking about it) Miyako leads him right down with no hesitation. It's very clear that Miyako does not like Sigmund but they still do this with no fight.

To add yet another layer to this, Miyako then leaves him alone with the body and, though it's very obvious that they are all short on time waits upstairs until Sigmund returns. But when he finally does, Miyako says nothing, simply listens to him speak for a moment, gives him a suspicious (nay, nervous?) look and then leaves. Why wait then?

"To make sure that he didn't mess with Iori's body" you ask?

Nope. Miyako doesn't even go back down to check.

Now, on to Sigmund: when he comes back up he looks ill- hand over his mouth, drawn brows, shadowed eyes. Arguably a symptom of seeing the body of someone that you respect, no? But not only that but his speech has completely changed. He apologizes to Pisca for making him wait and Pisca, who this entire time has been the definition of stone cold killer, looks deeply shocked. It's obvious that he's never been spoken to this way before.

"Lady Katherine, surely you cannot be going where I think you're going with this." you mutter worriedly.

YOU BETTER BELIEVE I AM.

And now, my final nail in the coffin as it were, of this theory- Tanaka loves to use scene changes and phrasing to hint at things. The scene immediately before this is Mikado and Shirayuki talking about Mikado's feelings on Mikuni and she says, about her children, "for parents, it's enough just to have their children alive, isn't that right?"

Conclusion; Iori is alive. And he is possessing Sigmund.

This brings us right back around to my belief that Iori and Mikuni are in on something together. Mikuni has no reason to go after Sigmund, but if he knew that it was actually Iori he would. And they've planned from the start to make use of Tsurugi.

You may now all send me messages insisting I see a therapist.

Stay tuned for Part Three- My Unrelated Things To Take Note Of.

Edit to add: I completely forgot Sigurd's name because ~I Hate Him~ but I'm leaving it because it's hilarious, k bye

[transsexualhamlet]

tzll us EVEYTHIN G ABout sherlock hols

ABABSHDFSHDSFHHSHEWIOH:OIFIEHW:HDFSD

lol i mentioned i was reading it in the yuumori server and spent the next three hours yelling about it but yes yes yes!!

I have legit only read the forward so far but ok the man who wrote this forward is in fucking love with sherlock motherfucking holmes and makes it everyone's problem! It's also, thirty pages long! And spends at least five of those pages discussing sherlock's probable homosexuality and various mental disorders!

And it's absolutely fucking wild!

Why is this so gay "through the haze I had a vision of holmes in his dressing gown coiled up in an armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips" "the unanswered correspondance he transfixes by a jack knife into the very center of his wooden mantelpiece" what are these words.....

Ok so what I found funny was the old sherlock adaptions he mentioned lIKE APPARENTLY THERE WAS ONE WHERE SHERLOCK ESHIOFESHOESFFESHEFSHEFE. SHERLOCK MEETS SHDS:HFDSOHFDSODISHW:EFEWHO. SHSERLOCK MEETS SIGMUND FREUD HWIEOHF:OEW:O:OEWFOEF WHO TELLS HIM S:HIFHDS:OF:OEW:OEW THAT HIS OBSESSION WITH MORIARTY IS. BECAUSE OF YOU GUESSED IT HIS MOM SH:IOFDH:OEWIOFHEW:FEWIOFH:OEWFIOEW

Hashhwhfwe also apparently sherlock disguised himself as an old lady once and again this dude said it like "Respectable men in the 1890s would be aghast at seeing a fellow they knew sauntering about in a frock and a wig!"

He also spends like ten minutes assuring the audience that sherlock does in fact hate rich people

The guy is also like "sherlock was definitely manic-depressive so there's that" so true bestie

ALSO DOYLE WASNT GOING TO CONTINUE HOLMES AFTER THE FIRST BOOK EXCEPT THEN HE HAD A SMOKE WITH OSCAR WILDE AND WAS LIKE YKNOW WHAT LET'S DO THIS

he also says that the books should be subtitled "the education of john watson" bc sherlock fucking corrupts him

also Doyle in a letter to his mom saying that he's gonna kill off sherlock like "I think of slaying Holmes in the sixth and winding him up for good and all. He takes my mind from better things."

The author of the foward was straight up like yeah Irene Adler was probably created just to make sure the readers didn't think Sherlock was a Homosexual so like him maybe thinking so highly of Irene explains why he says he's never gonna be in any relationship with any woman lol (?????) But it's funny bc the dude is like yeah Irene is supposed to be like a mirror version of Sherlock himself but with tits so that doesnt mean hes straight it means hes self centered and Sherlock would only be interested in someone who was as smart as himself *goes right into talking about how moriarty was his perfect match*

And then the forward guy goes on to say "I love how Doyle loved to say that Sherlock was an emotionless robot my good sir he's literally in love with watson" (paraphrasing obviously but he legit said hes in love with watson /srs) Like yeah like he rlly does care for people he's just autistic<3

This dude also says Doyle was so worried about having a Worthy Opponent to kill Sherlock that he made a oopsie and now him and moriarty are thematic parallels and soulmates (HE FUCKING SAID SOULMATES BESTIE IM NOT LYING THIS DUDE IS GAY AF)

LIKE. WHAT. THEY'RE SOULMATES I SUPPOSE

Again i am mentioning the way he describes moriarty and sherlock falling off reichenbach it's literally so fucking gay

he also describes sherlock as doyle's "problem child" im gonna die

Sherlock tended bees in his retirement.... the yuumori fandom knows about this now but like..... bees......<333

He just you know went on and on and on about how great and gay and mentally ill sherlock was It's like sherlock is literally not going to suck your dick my good sir

[thinkveganworld]

Here’s Part One of a series of articles I wrote a while back:  

Goebbels and today’s mass mind control: Part One 

How PR opinion-shapers turn the people against their own interests By Carla Binion (”thinkveganworld.tumblr.com”) 

Today’s right-wing public relations spin has much in common with the propaganda methods of Hitler’s PR man, Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels admired Edward Bernays, a self-proclaimed founder of the public relations industry.  Bernays, a Vienna-born nephew of Sigmund Freud, opened a New York office in 1919.  According to John Stauber and Sheldon Rampton, (“Toxic Sludge is Good for You,” Common Courage Press, 1995) Bernays “pioneered the PR industry’s use of psychology and other social sciences to design its public persuasion campaigns.”

Bernays wrote in “Propaganda,” (New York: 1928, pp. 47-48) “If we understand the mechanism and motives of the group mind, it is now possible to control and regiment the masses according to our will without their knowing it.”  Bernays referred to this scientific opinion-control as the “engineering of consent." 

In his autobiography, Bernays discusses a dinner at his home in 1933 where, "Karl von Weigand, foreign correspondent of the Hearst newspapers, an old hand at interpreting Europe and just returned from Germany, was telling us about Goebbels and his propaganda plans to consolidate Nazi power.  Goebbels had shown Weigand his propaganda library, the best Weigand had ever seen.

 Goebbels, said Weigand, was using my book ‘Crystallizing Public Opinion’ as a basis for his destructive campaign against the Jews of Germany.  This shocked me.  Obviously the attack on the Jews of Germany was no emotional outburst of the Nazis, but a deliberate, planned campaign." 

Today, corporations spend millions on public relations campaigns to "crystallize public opinion,” often in an effort to convince the public that harmful things are actually good for us.  Sometimes the companies start by bending the minds of our elected representatives. 

This is the first part of a series.  In part one, we’ll focus on the ways in which corporations and their public relations mind-shapers worked to destroy the Clinton health care plan.  Today forty-four million Americans, about one in five people, have no health coverage, and many people cannot afford needed pharmaceutical drugs.  Most Americans probably wonder why, despite repeatedly broken campaign promises, Congress never does anything to improve the health care system. 

As far back as November 8, 1999, a Newsweek article reported that half or more of eligible heart attack patients are at greater risk because they can’t get needed beta blockers.  The article stated that two-thirds of people surveyed say they are worried that health care is no longer affordable.  Conditions haven’t improved since then.

In 1993, the Clinton administration tried to do something about the high price of prescription drugs, hinting at possible government-imposed price controls.  The pharmaceutical industry then turned to the Beckel Cowan PR firm to oppose the administration’s designs on lowering the cost of prescription drugs – although, of course, the Clinton plan would have benefited the public.  Stauber and Rampton write that Beckel Cowan “created an astroturf [or, fake grassroots] organization called 'Rx Partners’ and began deploying state and local organizers to, in the words of a company brochure, 'generate and secure high-quality personal letters from influential constituents to 35 targeted members of Congress.’" 

At the same time, Beckel Cowan managed a mail and phone campaign "which produced personal letters, telegrams and patch-through calls to the targeted members’ local and Washington, DC, offices.”  The PR firm built a network of supporters in 35 congressional districts and states. Pharmaceutical companies weren’t the only corporations to oppose an improved health care system.

The insurance industry went to work to fight against the Clinton health care plan, recruiting PR-man Robert Hoopes.  According to Stauber and Rampton, the 300,000 member Independent Insurance Agents of America (IIAA) hired Hoopes as their “grassroots coordinator/political education specialist." 

Campaign & Elections magazine reported the IIAA activated "nearly 140,000 insurance agents during the health care debate, becoming what Hoopes describes as a new breed of Washington lobbyists,” wrote Stauber and Rampton.  Hoopes said the lobbyists “have behind them an army of independent insurance agents from each state, and members of Congress understand what a lobbyist can do with the touch of a button to mobilize those people for or against them." 

In Campaign & Elections magazine ("Killing Health Care Reform,” October/November 1994) Thomas Scarlett writes of the insurance companies PR moves, “Through a combination of skillfully targeted media and grassroots lobbying, these groups were able to change more minds than the president could, despite the White House 'bully pulpit.' 

Never before have private interests spent so much money so publicly to defeat an initiative launched by a president.” The Coalition for Health Insurance Choices (CHIC), an insurance company front group, led the attacks on health care reform.  According to Consumer Reports, “The HIAA [Health Insurance Association of America] doesn’t just support the coalition; it created it from scratch.”  Stauber and Rampton write that PR-man Blair G. Childs masterminded the Coalition. 

Describing the fight against health care reform, Childs said in 1993, “The insurance industry was real nervous.  Everybody was talking about health care reform.  It felt like we were looking down the barrel of a gun.”  He added, “We needed cover because we were going to be painted as the bad guy.  You get strength in numbers.  Start with the natural, strongest allies, sit around a table and build up to give your coalition a positive image." 

To battle health care reform, Childs said the coalition brought in "everyone from the homeless Vietnam veterans to some very conservative groups.  It was an amazing array, and they were all doing something.” (Blair Childs speaking at “Shaping Public Opinion: If You Don’t Do It Somebody Else Will,” in Chicago, Dec. 9, 1994.)  

Childs advised industry health reform opponents on selecting names for their fake grassroots coalitions.  He said they should use focus groups and surveys to find “words that resonate very positively.”  (Examples included the words “fairness, balance, choice, coalition and alliance.”) 

His own coalition sponsored the famous “Harry and Louise” television spots.  Those ads used strategic words to convince the public that Clinton’s health care plan was overly complex – a “billion dollar bureaucracy.” Propagandist Rush Limbaugh also fueled the anti-health care debate on his radio show with frequent “calculated rants” aimed at his dittohead audience.  

PR-man Blair Childs said his coalition ran paid ads on Limbaugh’s show to encourage Rush’s listeners to call members of Congress and urge them to kill health care reform. Stauber and Rampton say that congressional staffers often didn’t know the callers were “primed, loaded, aimed and fired at them by radio ads on the Limbaugh show, paid by the insurance industry, with the goal of orchestrating the appearance of overwhelming grassroots opposition to health reform." 

During 1992 and much of 1993, before the propaganda blitz, both Democrats and Republicans were leaning toward a health reform bill according to James Fallows (The Atlantic, January 1995.)  Fallows writes, "Bob Dole said he was eager to work with the administration and appeared at events side by side with Hillary Clinton to endorse universal coverage. Twenty-three Republicans said that universal coverage was a given in a new bill." 

By 1994, the insurance corporations’ PR attacks had changed the political environment.  Stauber and Rampton write that "Republicans who previously had signed on to various components of the Clinton plan backed away.” Even Democratic Party Senate majority leader George Mitchell “announced a scaled-back plan that was almost pure symbolism.  Republicans dismissed it with fierce scorn." 

Although Hitler’s propagandist used mass mind control for more sinister goals, today’s corporate propagandists have the following in common with Goebbels:  They use the same opinion-shaping techniques he did, and they use them for the purpose of turning the people against their own interests.  When large numbers of American citizens suffer or die because they can’t get needed medicine or surgery as a result of corporate propaganda, it becomes obvious that Goebbels and today’s industry PR spin doctors have produced fruit that is similar in kind, though different in degree. 

The public benefits from understanding corporate PR and its character and intentions.  Hitler said, "Only one thing could have broken our movement: if the adversary had understood its principle and from the first day had smashed with extreme brutality the nucleus of our new movement.”  (Speech to Nuremberg Congress, 9/3/33.) 

Corporate America’s movement to undermine affordable prescription drugs, universal health care and other public health and safety interests has to be understood before it can be fought.  Stauber and Rampton say the PR industry resembles the title character in the old Claude Rains movie, “The Invisible Man.”  Rains’ character uses his invisibility to get away with robbery, murder and other crimes.  

The film was made using special-effects techniques such as hidden wires to make ashtrays, guns and other objects appear to float in mid-air, as if they were being moved by the invisible man. “Instead of ashtrays and guns,” write Stauber and Rampton, “The PR industry seeks to manipulate public opinion and government policy.  But it can only manipulate while it remains invisible." 

In part two, we’ll look at specific techniques today’s public relations ploys have in common with Goebbels’ methods, and we’ll examine the corporations’ and think-tanks’ Goebbels-like attacks on environmental protection.