#Tokyo Broadcasting System[

[deadc0py]

I feel you man.

[jpyoerixfanxv]

Happy 18th Anniversary To Lucky Star.

[gbhbl]

Horror Movie Review: Infection/感染 (2004)

A doctor's mistake unwittingly creates horrific consequences for the staff at the hospital.

SInfection (感染) is a Japanese horror film directed by Masayuki Ochiai, releasing in 2004. After seeing Ringu (1998) at a somewhat tender age, I developed a bit of a J-horror obsession. I’d seek out any film that was distributed by “Tartan Asia Extreme” as this was usually the seal of approval that I was in for something great. One such movie was the one I am reviewing now, Infection. The film is…

[peakyrain]

"proving" shifting through scientific evidence (& philosophic theory)

this post is heavily inspired by @voldyateme on tiktok. i saw her video and decided to do research on my own, and write a detailed post about this topic to make myself understand better. i also would like to mention that some of the claims irene made in her tiktok were wrong (and biased) i also wanted to clear some things up for myself.

fyi: long post ahead. this took me three days to understand and write. i might still be a bit unclear on my understanding of some aspects, but to avoid having to write a whole novel on the subject, i simplified my findings and shortened them by a lot.

-

john clauser is a physicist who won the nobel peace prize in 2022 for his work on quantum entanglement. his theory confirms that quantum particles can be entangled across vast distances, and that their behaviors are instantly connected, even if they're light years apart.

a very simplified example:

i: you create two entangled particles

ii: you send particle A to tokyo, and particle B to paris

iii: a person in tokyo measures particle A and sees it spinning up, then instantly, meaning instantly, faster than light, the person in paris will know particle B is spinning down

this is simply based on particle A or B's observation, w/o there having to be sent any message or signal between them. they behave as if they're one system - not two separate ones.

the moment you measure one particle, you're instantly aware of the other particle's state.

⭒ relating quantum entanglement to shifting:

okay so now we know that entangled particles act as of they're one system, even through long distances. so, if everything was once connected to the big bang, then on some level, everything may still be entangled. meaning you, your consciousness and other "versions" of yourself in other realities.

this could therefore suggest that we are already connected to all possible versions of ourselves. they exist within a quantum field of potential, and our awareness can shift between these versions by tuning into the version we desire - essentially by choosing a different frequency.

say you're listening to the radio. you know that you’re able to listen to any radio broadcast because there are thousands playing at the same exact time, but you choose which one to listen to, knowing you have the choice to change it to another.

it's the same exact with shifting. you know that there are endless versions of you in existence right this moment - you only have to choose to become aware of your desired self.

-

john wheeler, another physicist, proposed that reality is directly linked to our consciousness and what we observe. it's been demonstrated that particles don't move until they're actually observed. so if we're not observing something, it doesn't have a definite state at all. this is called the "observer effect"

the effect has challenged and in some ways helped disprove einstein's theory of realism. einstein believed that that the physical world exists independently of whether we observe it or not.

example: according to einstein, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to observe it, the tree still falls. this is shown to be false on a quantum level. that said, we can't w/ certainty say that the tree does (or doesn’t) exist if no one is perceiving it (confusing, trust me, i know)

wheeler also proved that particles will change their makeup based on our choices and observation. simplified, this means that reality doesn't fully decide its state until it's observed. it can have different outcomes, and our choices affect the past behavior of particles.

⭒ relating the observer effect to shifting:

we know that quantum particles don't take on a definite form or "reality" until they're observed. this implies that our observation plays a direct role in shaping reality - not just by watching, but also deciding. this implies that reality isn't fixed, but fluid, shaped by our decisions, thoughts and observations and means we can "choose" our reality.

quantum physics shows that reality isn't fixed until observed, observation and consciousness do play a key role and that multiple outcomes are possible. so our consciousness focus can be said to be the mechanism that "shifts" us into a desired timeline or reality.

-

way before quantum physics existed, george berkley, a philosopher in the 1700s argued the idea "to be is to be perceived", which is eerily similar to what scientists are exploring today.

he believed that physical objects don't exist independently of our own perception. so if no one is for example perceiving a tree, then it doesn't exist.

berkeley said that there is no such thing as matter existing on its own w/o a mind to perceive it. BUT! there's a twist. you see, berkley also argued the existence of God being necessary to explain how the world works within his theory of perception and idealism.

okay so, to simplify because it can be really confusing:

i: physical things only exist if they're being perceived.

ii: when humans aren't perceiving things, God is.

iii: the reason why the world keeps existing even when we're not looking is because God is always "watching".

this raises the question: if we're not perceiving something, and the only reason it exists because God is, then how do we know it actually exists when we're not perceiving it?

berkeley responded:

"we know it exists because we can come back and perceive it again, and it behaves consistently"

if you look at a tree, walk away, come back. it's still there. berkeley argued that you assume the tree existed the whole time because when you go back, the tree would still be there, at the exact same spot.

this consistency would therefore be explained by God's continuous perception of it. so even though you didn't perceive it the whole time, the fact that reality is orderly and consistent is reliable "proof" that something (God) kept it there.

critics have argued back that assuming God is perceiving all the time isn't proof that He actually is, so how would we know that?

the answer is: w/o God, things would just pop in and out of existence every time we blink and that doesn't happen. so God is used to explain why the world is consistent and stable even when we're not watching.

you can't personally perceive something that you're not perceiving, but you trust that it's still there when you go back there, because of God.

berkeley's theory is still relevant today because the things he imagined in the 1700s do line up w/ scientific discoveries today and i resonate w/ his theory, so i just had to include it even though God’s existence isn’t proven. it’s fascinating, really.

⭒ relating george’s idealism to reality shifting:

if, like berkeley said, things only exist when they're being perceived, and if reality stays consistent because someone is always perceiving it, then that means perception isn't just passive, it's creative and shapes what exists.

this ties back to shifting beacuse it suggests that your desired reality doesn't need to "appear" in front of you for it to be real - it only needs to be perceived. if you consciously focus on your dr, perceiving it in your mind as real, then by berkeley's logic, it is real, maybe not in the physical sense just yet, but within the field of awareness that gives rise to reality in the first place.

so basically: if reality is perception based, and you're perceiving your dr, then you're giving form to something that exists because you're actively perceiving it, and you are capable of being in that place.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Literally cannot wait for the next chapter to drop!! Please post it soon so I don’t end up sneaking chapters at work again.</3

Thank you for reading it all Pookie, my sincere apologies for the delay. I'm unfortunately a perfectionist and needed to add more details to make it real. Hope you enjoy it :)

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader x Gojo Satoru x Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage. Trigger/Crack Warnings: Graphic Violence, Emotional Abuse, Medically accurate Pain/Injuries Horror (yes, I do alot of research), pregnancy complications, Weaponized Guilt, Mentions of Rape (past, non-graphic), Psychological Manipulation, Mild Suicide Ideation (implied), Brainrot-Inducing Dialogue, Reader May Require Therapy After This, Emotional Damage Simulator 2025, Sukuna is Down Bad – Yuji said so, Mafia CEO AU (kinda), Reader is So Tired, Found Family? Or Found Emotional Damage?, Gojo Satoru's Consequences, Nanami Kento Deserves a Nap & to be able to pee in peace without his wife+husband combo broadcasting it, Unhinged Girlboss Reader, Murder as Romance, This chapter is a war crime. Trillionaire Tech Wife With Two Useless Men, Emotional Support Chicken. A/N: I feel like the reader is the biggest comedian in this series, tbh lol. Like??? She's fighting for her life, trauma bonding with eldritch horrors, & still has time to serve face & sarcasm in the same breath. Queen behaviour. Honestly, if I were her, I too would commit crimes while sipping Sprite out of a hospital cup. POOKIE SUKU IS HERE!!!!

Previous Chapter 23 (alt ending 2.14) - How the Salt in Our Wounds Was the Ocean - [Tumblr/Ao3]

Chapter 24 (alt ending 2.15) - Shattered Constellations

Aftermath | Their POV

They called her mortal.

They forgot she was trained by monsters.

Hour One

Nanami burned through every Tokyo contact. Then called Anna Wintour.

"Who did she meet tonight?"

There was a pause. The silence that comes when too many people are in the room, and you suddenly realise you’re the prey.

Anna’s tone was clipped, as ever. “Kento.”

“Anna. She’s missing. We can’t find her.”

“You must be very upset.”

“Who did she meet today? What was the investor’s name?”

“I was told if I revealed that name, if I tell you anything about her movements without her consent, I’ll be dead before the phone line disconnects. And you—you won’t even know who killed me.”

He closed his eyes. “It’s not about control. I think she’s in danger.”

Silence. Not even the buzz of static.

“Goodnight, Mr. Nanami.”

The Koenigsegg Jesko had been the first to betray them.

It shouldn’t have.

It was registered to her company but custom-built by Megumi’s black-ops R&D. Eight embedded trackers—nano chips, tyre sensors, two voice AI failsafes. The works.

But one by one, the signals blinked out like dying stars.

First, the GPS. Then the emergency LTE backup.

Then the engine monitor started sending Morse-code gibberish, as though something inhuman had possessed the car.

“She cut the battery?” Megumi asked, horrified.

The smoke alarms were disabled.

The flames were superficial, controlled—nothing damaged except the bed, the mattress soaked in Tom Ford and Dior and spite. Nanami didn’t smell arson. He smelled intent.

Megumi’s team—your personal security detail, his people—had been scrambled into a full lockdown.

“She shut down the internal feeds,” he gasped, crouched on the cold marble. “Her penthouse went dark mid-step. She disabled the elevator cam.”

“She shouldn’t even be able to do that,” Gojo said, eyes flashing cerulean. “The feed’s encrypted.”

“She built the system,” Nanami added quietly.

Gojo activated the Six Eyes at a higher altitude.

He’d only ever used them like this twice—once, back when they were hunting the remnants of the Star Plasma cult. Back when Geto still— And the second time was when he was trying to find you in your home country when you’d disappeared after the gaming convention.

Nanami was watching the flame flicker and die in Gojo’s face.

Gojo balled his fists in frustration. “Why can't I see her? There’s no cursed energy hiding her. She’s not suppressing her aura. She’s not using a veil or a curse technique—she can’t. She’s just a normal woman!”

“No.” Nanami corrected coldly. “She’s lived with you for years, and you talk alot about your conquests, Satoru. By now it’d be a miracle if she didn’t figure out how to counter you, given the way she is – all or nothing.”

Hour Two

“She’s still not showing up,” Megumi whispered.

Not on satellite. Not on traffic cams. Not even on Gojo’s six eyes, which were burning as he stood barefoot on the balcony, sweat crystallizing on his cheekbones.

“No cursed energy signatures,” Gojo muttered. “No barriers. No pings.”

“She’s not a sorcerer,” Haibara said, leaning against the glass. “She’s just angry.”

“She’s not just anything,” Nanami half-yelled, eyes scanning five monitors showing nothing but static. “She disappeared mid-day. Mid-breath. That’s not normal.”

The Jesko went through one toll booth. Then stopped showing up.

Gone. No transponders. No speed violations. No tyre marks.

“Tracker’s off,” Megumi said, barely keeping it together. “All of them. Phone, car, security fob, coat lining. Gone.”

“She’s still wearing the tracker from last week's security update,” Nanami muttered, clicking on her medical vitals screen.

"Not anymore," Haibara said, holding something bloody in his hand. A tiny sliver of metal he'd found on the toll booth she’d disappeared from. "She cut it out. Used the same blade she cut me with."

"Was she bleeding?" Gojo snapped, voice shrill.

"Not when she bit me. After? Who knows."

Hour Three

They stood in the war room.

Screens everywhere. Her last known locations. Holograms. Pulse tracking. Voice AI failed prompts.

A red string corkboard in a glass room.

Haibara, biting into an apple like it might be poisoned.

Megumi, rocking back and forth, hands pressed to his skull.

Nanami, silent.

Gojo pacing like an animal.

“She fucking ghosted us,” Haibara laughed like the irony was too much.

“She can’t ghost the Six Eyes,” Gojo muttered. “I’ve found people in other dimensions. She can’t—she’s not supposed to be able to—how is she doing this?”

“She’s deleting herself,” Megumi whispered. “Not hiding. Erasing.”

They all turned to him.

He kept staring at the floor. “You don’t know what she’s capable of when she feels cornered. You don’t know what she learnt from my father. Hell, even I never really knew what they talked about.”

Hour Four

Your location-shared signal blipped once.

A rural highway. Eastbound. Then silence.

“She left it on just long enough for someone else,” Haibara murmured. “Not us.”

Gojo slumped to the ground, blindfold in his fist.

Security teams deployed.

Megumi’s own private elite—trained to hunt rogue sorcerers—went silent within thirty minutes. They followed a false signal to the western district. Found nothing but a pile of burner phones duct-taped together.

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be.

Haibara laughed, unwrapping the bandage on his bitten hand. “God, I love her. Bites like a jackal.”

“Shut up,” Nanami hissed.

“She’s fucking incredible.”

“Shut up.”

“She could’ve been a serial killer.”

Gojo slammed him against the wall. “Shut. Up.”

“Are we trying to find her or fight each other!” Megumi yelled, and Gojo backed off with a grunt from a smirking Haibara after a beat.

Hour Five

“She was smiling when she lit the bed on fire,” Haibara whispered, staring at the footage one of Megumi’s corrupted drones caught before she destroyed it.

The flames danced across your face like a rite. You looked holy. Like a woman who knew God personally and had decided He wasn’t worth the apology.

And none of them—not even the strongest sorcerer alive, not the meticulous executioner, or the boy born of a cursed blessing, or the resurrected demon from society’s trash heap—

None of them could stop you.

Because you weren’t human anymore.

Hour Six

They found a lead.

Not from tech. Not from tracking.

From blood.

Haibara licked his injured hand, still oozing from her bite. He stared at it. Smiled.

“She didn’t take the knife to hurt herself. She took it to threaten us. And this? This isn’t desperation.”

“What was the reason then?” Gojo whispered, eyes burning from overuse.

“It’s theatre. She left us a trail. Just enough to make us panic. Just enough to remind us…” He looked at Gojo, gaze gleaming like a blade.

“…That she’s smarter than all of us combined.”

And somewhere, far beyond their reach, in an untraceable place with prepaid electricity and blackout curtains, you stared at your own reflection.

Still. Silent. Pregnant. Waiting.

Then you peeled back your coat. Checked your stomach. Ran your fingers over the black bruise near your ribs—where the babies kicked too hard in your stress while you were pulling out the car batteries.

You weren’t safe. Not really.

A phone ping.

Mom: Flight's delayed a little further. Get yourself food but stay away from view.

Hour eight

“Why can’t I fucking see her?” Gojo demanded again, voice rising. He was glowing faintly now, like a sun left to rot in a glass coffin. “I can see everyone. I can see through walls. Why not her?”

“Because you don’t know her,” Haibara said without looking up from his phone.

The words dropped like a knife.

Gojo turned. Nanami didn’t stop him.

“You wanna say that again?”

“You don’t know her. You know the woman who cooked for you and sucked your cock and gave you children you aren’t worthy of. You don’t know the girl who broke her own jaw so her cousins wouldn’t rape her again. Or the girl who lived under a bed with rats and still makes Blackrock shudder. The one who cried blood the night you came on each other right next to her sleeping body.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched, hard enough to hear a faint crack.

Haibara kept going. “You didn’t even know she was pregnant. You called her bipolar. Your little baby killers club didn’t tell her shit.”

Megumi punched Haibara out of nowhere, and the latter straightened back up like an unkillable pest, spitting the blood from his lip tear.

Megumi yelled, “If you can’t be bothered to help, then get lost.”

“I am helping.” Haibara smirked, “By laughing at them.”

Megumi eyed him suspiciously. “You know who she called, don’t you?”

Haibara smirked.

---

Before the meeting with the investor and the subsequent disappearance—

You’d barely slept.

Not because of discomfort, though your swollen ankles and the relentless ache in your lower back would’ve justified it. No, sleep had eluded you because of them—the disasters you somehow forgave, loved, and carried children from. After months of icy silences, bruised egos, and walking on eggshells sharpened by betrayal, a night last week had finally broken the drought.

Satoru cried five times. That you know of.

The first time was silent—his face buried in the curve of your neck, a hand trembling on your side, like he thought if he held too tight, you’d vanish. The second was louder, gasping, muttering apologies into your skin like they were spells. By the third, he’d woken you up entirely, whimpering as he clung to you in his sleep, kneading the soft swell of your hip like a needy white tiger. The fourth came when you cupped his face and kissed his lashes and whispered, “I missed you.” And the fifth—well, that one came when he was already inside you.

Slow. Soft. No cocky grin, no teasing flick of his tongue. Just desperate Satoru with tears slipping down his cheeks and his forehead pressed to yours, as if he were scared that blinking might separate you again.

Kento didn’t cry.

But he looked at you like a ghost. Like if he blinked, he’d wake up so he’d woken before either of you, face buried in your neck, lips pressed to your pulse like he was checking you were still warm. There was no ceremony to it—he was already hard, already leaking against your thigh. His hand curled protectively over your bump, reverent, steady, like he was anchoring himself to proof that this—all of this—was real.

You don’t remember how it started. Only that your hormones had made you wet and half-dazed. Satoru had slid inside you without even waking properly, moving in that lazy, sleep-drunk way he always did when overwhelmed. You'd been too sensitive lately—your body a minefield of electric nerves—and soon you’d ended up on Kento’s lap, Gojo moving behind you while Kento’s cock rested hot and hard under your soaked folds, rubbing him and you off.

It wasn’t pornographic. It was tender. Messy, yes. But real.

Your arms around Kento’s shoulders. Satoru's hand splayed over your belly like a talisman, anchoring you so as not to hurt the twins. The low, breathy sounds you made when Kento pressed kisses under your jaw, whispering that you were beautiful. Sacred. A miracle.

You moaned so sweetly that Kento chuckled low in his throat, eyes closed, face tilted to the ceiling in something like prayer.

Then came the chaos.

You were so lost in the rhythm that you didn’t notice Satoru getting bolder—until he grabbed Kento’s thigh and tried to shift his leg up in a mating press. Kento’s leg jerked with surprise, and he just snorted. Loudly.

“I’m not a yoga mat,” he groaned, covering his eyes with one arm, stifling his laugh.

You burst out laughing. And felt it in your ribcage, like someone was letting light back into your lungs.

Satoru paused mid-thrust, blinked, then looked sheepishly between the two of you.

“Well, you both keep trying to get me pregnant, so this is me turning the tables,” he said, deadpan, then he kept thrusting.

Kento’s laugh shook the bed.

You turned and kissed Satoru—salt and saliva and need—and then turned and kissed Kento, who looked more in love than he’d ever admit. For a second, the three of you just stayed like that. Tangled. Breathing. Full of each other.

By the time the sun climbed over the skyline, you were dozing again between them, skin sticky, sheets tangled, legs heavy. The morning routine happened in sacred silence—no fights, no tension. Just Kento helping you into your dress while Satoru brushed your hair, quiet and reverent, as if caring for you was penance and prayer combined.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “You look powerful,” he whispered.

Kento kissed your wrist, slipping your wedding ring back on after cleaning it. “And the mother of my children.”

“Mine too,” Satoru chimed in.

“You’re such a narcissist,” Kento said.

“So are you,” Satoru shot back, smiling now, eyes clear.

You rolled your eyes, heart full.

This was what peace looked like. No chaos. No yelling. Just the quiet, perfect calm that came when everyone chose to stay.

You had ten minutes before take-off. Your phone buzzed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, depending on what he wants and the flight time,” you promised, turning at the door.

They both followed you—of course they did. Satoru tugged your hand. Kento wrapped his arm around your shoulders. They walked you to the elevator like you were made of glass and gold and unspeakable power.

You kissed Satoru first. Then Kento.

They both held your gaze as the doors closed. You caught Satoru mouthing I love you. Kento didn’t speak, but his expression was the same one he’d worn when you walked down the aisle.

The last thing you heard before the metal doors shut was Satoru murmuring, “Call me if there’s even an ounce of doubt. I’ll teleport you out.”

And Kento’s quiet, unwavering, “Keep the life vitals tracker on and call me once you land.”

---

The jet was quiet, save for the muted purr of climate control and the occasional shift of turbulence against steel. You’d boarded at noon—twenty minutes ahead of schedule—surrounded by a sixteen-person armed security detail and your logistics assistant, who kept glancing at your ankles like they might explode mid-flight.

She asked if you were comfortable three times before takeoff. Like she was stalling. Like the jet wasn’t just taking you to New York, but to the guillotine.

Anna hadn’t sent the jet. He had.

The new investor. No name, just gravity. A black hole in the shape of a man—silent, never photographed, but powerful enough that Anna had stumbled over her sentence when his assistant called.

When you’d first told Nanami about the request for an in-person, he’d exhaled like a loaded gun. Pressed his hand to his forehead and muttered, “Can’t we just kill him?”

He wasn’t joking. He spent the next three hours building worst-case flowcharts in that calm, terrifying way he did—like even apocalypse could be optimized.

Satoru had stopped joking altogether. That was worse.

Takahashi, at least, had behaved for his first flight. Curled at your side in a little albino ball of privilege, snoozing through turbulence like he was made of clouds and sedatives. You kept stroking the patch between his ears. It soothed nothing, but pretending helped.

Across from you sat a PR assistant barely old enough to rent a car. Her eyes kept flicking to your bump like it might blink back. “You don’t look that pregnant,” she offered hesitantly.

You smiled, didn’t answer.

Because it wasn’t the look of it. Never had been. It was the feeling—like your body was being rewritten in a language you didn’t speak. Nights were the worst. The way the skin moved—too fluid, like something inside was stretching out. Like it wanted more room.

Scans didn’t capture that. Machines didn’t feel the slow-shifting horror of cartilage loosening, knees dislocating if you stood too long, lungs compressed to the size of childhood grief. The doctors said miracle. You said miscalculation.

You’d worn red today. A deep, cruel red. It felt… appropriate for some odd reason.

---

Vogue Private Office — Manhattan

The orchids were wilting by the door. You walked in like the third act of a tragedy—heels cracking marble like closing statements.

The staff didn’t question you. They swung the lobby doors wide, as if bracing for a storm in stilettos.

Inside, the air clung with the scent of dying flowers and fragile wealth. Glossy surfaces, curves designed to look expensive, chairs meant to be admired, not sat in. They led you to a glass-walled suite where the city still bent to your silhouette—even if your shares never did for them.

You folded yourself into the seat, spine negotiating with memory. Accommodations were never an option.

Anna was late.

Of course.

When her heels finally announced her, you didn’t rise. Couldn’t, really—not with the way your body had begun to betray you, bone grinding against bone.

She stood haloed by light, a magazine-cutout of power, her smile sharp with the arrogance of someone who still believed timing was a weapon.

“You glow,” she said. “Like women do before they’re devoured.”

“Unmedicated,” you replied.

Her grin widened, all teeth and conquest. “We’ll keep this clean. You know why you’re here.”

You blinked, slow.

“The new investor wants your story. The twins. The empire. The marriage. He thinks your silence is sinking your company.”

One of the twins kicked—hard enough to fracture breath. Lately, it didn’t feel like movement. It felt like revolt.

Anna tapped her nails against the table. “How are the husbands?”

You exhaled.

“Protective. Armed. Near breaking.”

She tilted her head. “Would they die for you?”

You mirrored her.

“They already did.”

A pause. Her eyes flickered—assessing whether it was poetry or prophecy.

Then, the ice of her smile.

“Now that,” she murmured, “is a Vogue quote.”

Soon enough they led you through a corridor so silent it felt like something had been sacrificed to keep it that way.

No corporate logos. No gaudy art. Just sharp edges, sliding doors, and the kind of air that had passed through too many purifiers. The kind that made you feel sanitized, surgically so. You were shown into a tea room so traditional it bordered on uncanny for New York—tatami mats, shoji screens, and incense coiling faintly in the corners like an old ghost. For a second, you thought it might be a set. A psychological stage.

And then he walked in like a theory made flesh. The kind of man who survived the apocalypse by looking like prophecy.

He wasn’t what you’d expected.

Long raven hair swept back into a precisely tied half-bun. He wore a form-fitting black turtleneck beneath a long trench coat, the fabric whispering as he moved. Polished leather shoes. No noise. No dust. The kind of outfit that commanded attention without asking for it—quiet, curated power. His face was too symmetrical to be trustworthy, his skin untextured in that uncanny, expensive way. No jewelry except for a Rolex that said old money or old blood.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Geto,” you shook his hand briefly. “You’re very composed for someone hiding behind NDAs and empty LinkedIn profiles.”

He smiled, unfazed. “I don’t like being photographed. It makes it harder to disappear when people disappoint me.”

You blinked and filed that away.

Another man stepped in—vaguely inbred in posture and temperament. The kind of man who inherited his surname like a loaded weapon. He poured tea like it was beneath him.

You didn’t need an introduction to know what he was.

Zenin.

Naoya, specifically. Blond, lean, the sharp-boned entitlement of someone who'd never been told no by someone who could make it stick. There was a feral brightness behind his eyes, like something hungry and bored. He poured tea with the grace of someone imagining your autopsy.

Geto glanced toward him. “Naoya. Thank you.”

The man gave a short bow that wasn’t quite a bow.

You smiled, tilted your head slightly—your expression deliberately soft, even as your voice curled with something sharper. "You're really beautiful. You shouldn’t be in corporate. Milan seems more appropriate."

Suguru chuckled, almost surprised. “Fashion is a battlefield. This is where I’m better suited.” He gestured to the tea cup in front of him. “I hope the flight was comfortable.”

“It was fine. Apologies if I kept you waiting—my husband insisted we play a little longer.”

He didn’t blink. But in the corner of the room, a man with stitches across his face twitched slightly. Like the mention of something domestic scratched at his teeth.

Naoya, who was now pouring your tea like it was poison, said nothing. Suguru didn’t offer introductions. He just let the platinum blond ghost linger at the room’s edge like a lion watching your blood pressure with a smirk.

Then he looked back to you and said, with no real warmth, “Ah. Is he still obsessed with Digimon?”

The shift was instantaneous.

You didn’t move. You didn’t breathe wrong. But beneath the table, your fingers twitched once—an involuntary microexpression.

Satoru had never said that online. Not to fans. Not to journalists. Not even in investor decks.

But you didn’t bite, not so easily. “So tell me, Mr. Geto, what are your plans?” You didn’t specify whether you meant plans for your company or for you; he’d clear that for you soon enough.

He began flipping through a file. “As I’m aware, you’ve had… an eventful quarter.”

You kept your smile. “Define eventful.”

“The employee assault. The digital blackouts. The marriage leak. The #TwoHolesForAReason campaign. Your stock drops. The public threats. And of course…” His eyes dropped, just briefly, to your stomach. “The pregnancy reveal.”

You took a measured sip of tea. Let the silence breathe. You could feel a fish curling beneath the floorboards—koi or curse, you couldn’t tell.

“I didn’t come here to relive the timeline.”

“Of course not,” he said gently. “You came here because I asked politely.”

That stopped you. Just a breath.

Suguru chuckled, as if he'd made a harmless joke. “Satoru always did get possessive when he felt threatened.”

You blinked once, slowly. He was no longer implying leverage. He was showing it.

“How do you know my husband?”

“From a different life. We were in Jujutsu Tech together, some ten years ago or more.” He didn’t elaborate. “He’s... very consistent. Even back then.”

“Were you close?”

“We were best friends. Classmates. Same special grades. Different curse techniques, same suicidal ambition.” His voice didn’t change. “Then the world changed after your guardian killed a girl we were protecting, and I… left.”

You didn’t react.

You recognized the tempo. The bait. He knew more about you than he was supposed to.

“Are you still in touch?”

“The last time I spoke to him was eight months ago.”

He said it like a wound. Or a warning.

Blood crawled up your throat, but you smiled and sipped your tea like a lamb, luring him into a false sense of comfort. “What happened eight months ago?” you asked softly, like you couldn’t put two and two together.

He smiled—not kindly. “I lost.”

The silence that followed was polite. Hollow.

You inhaled. “You joined the corporate sector after that?”

“Mm. Sorcery has its limits. I realized my skills were better suited to cleaning up PR messes.” His eyes flicked over your bump, your body, the controlled inhale of someone used to performing normalcy under duress. “Your company’s been through enough chaos lately. The world turned fast.”

You didn’t rise to the bait. “That’s the risk of marrying violently private men.”

“Or of marrying two of them,” he said, too evenly.

You didn’t reply. Let him talk.

He didn’t. Clever bastard.

Instead, the blonde set down another cup of tea with a thud that felt deliberate. You glanced at him, properly now.

“You didn’t introduce your company.”

Suguru didn’t look at him. “Naoya Zen’in. Logistics director. Don’t take his silence personally—he doesn’t like powerful women.”

“Must be exhausting,” you said, sipping your tea without breaking eye contact with Naoya’s sneer.

Naoya’s lip curled, but Suguru raised a finger, and the man stilled like a dog leashed by old violence.

You glanced around the room again—and noticed the other man was too still. Too silent. Sitting near the incense tray now, legs folded like a child mimicking meditation. Young. Heterochromatic eyes. Face like a cherub carved by a sadist—unblemished except for the stitches, soft, but off.

You didn’t recognize him.

But something primal in you curled. Not fear—yet—but revulsion. He watched you with a kind of gleeful interest people usually reserved for vivisection videos.

Suguru didn’t introduce him either.

The air felt heavier suddenly. Your skin began to itch under your dress, and you couldn’t tell if it was hormones or the way that stranger tilted his head slightly every time you moved.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t ask. Let the wrongness root itself in your memory.

“So what’s your plan, Mr. Geto?” you asked calmly, eyes never straying. “You want to scrub my company’s image. Why now?”

He met your gaze with something that almost felt like recognition. “Because Satoru did what he did for you. And the world saw it as a threat.”

You stayed silent.

He was skirting around Kento’s name—which meant Nanami, in Suguru’s eyes, was just as guilty.

And neither of you were forgiven.

He continued. “Beating your own employees in the middle of a crisis? Then disappearing. Leaving your CHRO and Higuruma to spin internal terrorism as a ‘security concern’ while the internet tore you apart. And the marriage leak…”

His voice lowered. “The rape threats. The arson calls. The memes.”

You exhaled, slow. Steady.

He didn’t know Higuruma either.

His mouth twitched. Almost sympathetically. Almost.

“Your men love you,” he said like an obituary. “But the world is still too cruel to forgive a woman for being adored.”

You tilted your head and met his violent violet gaze. “And you do?”

Suguru leaned back, folding his arms. “I understand optics. I understand what it means to be seen as unnatural.”

He hadn’t once referred to Satoru by his full name. Hadn’t asked how he was. Hadn’t asked to set up a meeting to catch up. Hadn’t insulted him either.

Every mention dripped with intimacy. Personal. Familiar. Irreversible.

You glanced at the tea again.

You were being dissected.

Not you exactly. The idea of you. The blueprint. The soft horror of a woman who had everything and bled alone.

You smiled. Not sweetly.

“So you stayed hidden all this time. Why?”

His eyes glinted. “Because sometimes, anonymity is power. I don’t need to be seen. I need to move.”

You hummed, sipping.

You weren’t stupid enough for men like him. Suguru wasn’t obsessed with investing in your company. He was trying to replace you in your own life.

Naoya stepped forward again. This time, it wasn’t tea. He whispered something into Suguru’s ear. A coded phrase, maybe. Or a trigger.

Suguru nodded once.

And then the man with the uncanny smile by the incense tray finally spoke.

“Has it kicked yet?”

The room shrank by degrees. You froze mid-breath, head swivelling toward him slowly. “What?”

He beamed. It didn’t reach his eyes. “The baby. Or babies, I suppose.”

Your stomach twisted—not from pregnancy. Instinct. Deep and ancestral. Like recognising a predator that shouldn’t exist anymore.

Suguru didn’t stop him. Naoya grinned.

Your fingers brushed the inside of your coat pocket, finding the cold edge of your phone. You didn’t need to see the screen—just feel the lock button. One long press, and the emergency contact would trigger. Satoru had set it up himself, laughing like it was a joke. “Just in case you’re ever too tired to scream.”

You weren’t screaming now. But you were tired. And surrounded.

Your thumb hovered over the side of the phone, ready to press and hold.

He’ll feel it. He’ll come. He always does.

But you needed answers.

Across from you, the scared man’s gaze skittered over your body, hesitating on the weight of your pregnancy like it offended him. Like he was doing the math on your vulnerability.

Your fingers twitched again—hovering but not pressing.

"Funny," you murmured, voice honed to a razor's edge—quiet enough to slit the throats of every man in that room who dreamed of hurting you. Of hurting them.

"You didn't introduce him, either."

Suguru’s gaze dragged over you—slow, careful, like he was calibrating the threat level of a black widow spider beneath his shoe. “Ah. That’s Mahito. He’s not an employee. Just… an enthusiast.”

“Enthusiast of what?”

“People.”

Mahito’s laugh was a rusted scissor drawn softly across silk. “Of change.”

Your fingers tightened around your teacup, the heat biting into your palm. “I don’t discuss my children with men I don’t know, Mr. Geto. Remove him, or this meeting ends now.”

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, at Suguru’s faint nod, Mahito walked out—but not before his eyes dipped to your swollen abdomen, lingering like a promise.

Suguru tilted his head. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And you’re exactly what I prepared for.” You didn’t take the bait, just sipped your tea and wished you could gouge out Naoya’s wandering eyes on your body with the teaspoon.

“Your men could’ve fixed this,” Suguru mused. “Instead, they buried you alive under their failures.” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “Let me dig you out.”

You let out one sharp smirk. “You want my loyalty.” Naoya’s gaze continued to crawl over your skin, but it was Suguru’s quiet hunger that made your pulse stutter.

He didn’t just want your empire. He wanted what you had with him.

“No,” Suguru said, and for one suspended breath, you saw something ancient behind his eyes. “I want the myth they buried you in. I want to rewrite it in your bones. You can keep your loyalty. I know how fragile that is.”

Naoya smirked.

You traced the rim of your cup again, as if you weren’t about to be eight months along and evaluating three likely special grade threats in a building without exits.

“I remember he used to hoard candy in his coat pocket,” Suguru said idly. “Said it was for focus. But he always saved the strawberry ones. Said they tasted like the spring of youth.”

Your breath caught—only for a second.

He smiled.

You didn’t give him more.

“Why now?” you asked. “You’ve had years to insert yourself. Why wait until after they ruined everything?”

His smile thinned. “Because now the narrative is fragile. Vulnerable. Editable.”

You didn’t smile back. You narrowed your eyes, the way a knife narrows a throat.

“Editable?” you repeated, voice flat as the heartbeat monitor they once used when your blood pressure dipped from stress-induced anemia. Third trimester. High stakes. Too much noise. Too many men trying to rewrite your obituary before the children even arrived.

He leaned forward with the casual precision of a man who’d once taught his enemies philosophy before killing them. Elbows on the table. Like a professor who enjoyed watching you fail upward and spiral into myth.

“Everyone loves a redemption arc,” Suguru said softly. “Especially when the protagonist is already bleeding.”

You watched the way his fingers interlocked, how his eyes held yours without fear, pity, or desire. Familiarity, yes. But it was impersonal. Surgical. “You’re smart. You built a world-changing company, held it through five hostile acquisition attempts, and somehow survived being married to two emotionally repressed men with god complexes.”

A pause. Letting it land.

“But your narrative is a mess. Right now, you’re not a visionary. You’re a punchline. A cautionary tale.”

You didn’t blink. You’d stopped blinking for fragile men a long time ago.

“So you want to help me out of the goodness of your heart, Mr. Geto,” you sarcastically mocked, voice like cooled steel.

“I want to curate,” he corrected. “The public needs a villain. I’d rather it not be you.”

Your breath didn’t change. Your spine did.

“And who should it be instead?” you asked quietly.

His gaze didn’t falter. “The men who made you disappear.”

You didn’t answer.

Because your brain was already screaming. Eight months. That was the moment the light began to fracture. The lies weren’t clumsy—they were rehearsed. Gojo crying in the shower without making a sound, standing too close to the shower faucet like he wanted to burn off his skin. Nanami avoiding eye contact with you like you were Medusa.

They hadn’t just betrayed you.

They’d buried someone.

And this man across from you—

—this Suguru—

He wasn’t the villain of the story. He was the page they tore out.

You shifted slightly in your seat, careful not to press too hard against the left hip joint. It ached from carrying too much weight—twins, fear, expectations.

“I don’t trust men who speak softly for a living,” you said, finally.

He smiled, not kindly. “Then you’ll appreciate that I don’t live. I manage. I observe. I insert pressure.”

“That sounds dangerously like extortion.”

“That sounds like truth.”

You stood, feeling the subtle catch in your hip again. A strain, not a collapse. You could handle it. You’d handled worse.

“Then here’s some truth for you, Mr. Geto,” you said, staring him down while Naoya twitched beside him like a dog smelling meat. “I don’t care what happened between you and him. I don’t care if Satoru fed you strawberry candy with his mouth. I don’t care if you’re here to drag me into whatever unresolved soap opera you three left fermenting in a casket.”

Naoya flinched like a puppet yanked by ancestral strings.

Suguru just kept smiling, unflinching.

“But if you want a stake in my company, you’ll need to do more than spill secrets and wear pretty silk. I’ve already survived two of the most powerful men in Japan loving me to the brink of destruction. Fear’s a luxury I ran out of two assassination attempts ago.”

Suguru rose slowly. Elegantly. Offered a hand as if any of this was normal.

You didn’t take it.

You left.

And you didn’t realise your hands were shaking until the door sealed behind you. The tremor was slight, concentrated in the fingertips—just enough to betray you to yourself. Just enough to remind you that no amount of tech, intelligence, or control could reverse the trauma of being known by dangerous men.

You didn’t take Suguru’s jet.

Instead, you boarded your own—slid into the leather seat with Takahashi curled against your belly like a breathing talisman—and told your assistant not to speak unless the plane was on fire.

By the time you hit cruising altitude, your nails had already scrolled through Nanami’s phone.

Not because it was hard.

His password was still the same.

Gojo never had one.

You found messages you were never meant to see.

Shoko: 15 days until abortion is off the table.

Gojo: She won’t agree.

You: Then we don’t ask.

You stared at the screen for a long time.

So they all lied.

Not just Gojo. Not just Nanami. All of them. Shoko even pretended to be in your corner.

There it was.

It wasn’t just about control. It wasn’t even about love.

It was the assumption that because you didn’t throw cursed techniques like tantrums, you couldn’t possibly comprehend risk. That your life—your mind—was collateral. Disposable in the face of their warped logic and misplaced savior complexes.

Like talking to you was useless. Like reasoning with you was redundant.

Like you were some beautiful, ignorant thing to be protected and deceived in equal measure.

Like you were some animal incapable of critical reasoning when your own life was in danger.

So they could fuck each other guilt-free.

So they could play noble martyrs in the privacy of the wounds they gave you.

And still, that wasn’t enough. Because anger—real anger—needs witnesses.

You opened a signal sniffer, rerouted through two proxies, and tapped into your neighbour’s WiFi. Not because you couldn’t afford better surveillance, but because her router overlapped with the garden of Megumi’s penthouse.

You shouldn’t have looked.

You: She wouldn’t have agreed.

Haibara: Then don’t give her the choice.

You: She’s not a sorcerer. She doesn’t understand what these kids could be. My mom almost died trying to give birth to me, and I wasn’t even half as cursed.

Haibara: Yeah, she’s blind to what they’ll do to her.

You: I’m not going to let her die over a fucking ideal.

Haibara: That wack doctor says she’s fine, so stop obsessively worrying.

Your vision blurred—but not from tears. From calculation.

The rage came quietly. It didn’t scream or collapse. It focused.

You unclasped the ring from your finger. Gojo’s design, Nanami’s metal of choice. A perfect storm of sentiment you no longer had room for.

You handed it to one of the PR assistants travelling with you—someone young, hopeful, still romantic about the world.

"Get rid of it," you said. "Melt it. Turn it into something you like. Give it to your girlfriend. Or your mother. Or leave it on the street. I don’t care. Just make sure I never see it again."

She didn’t ask questions.

And you didn’t explain.

Because you knew your husbands were capable of cruelty. You’d lived long enough in the shadow of it. But what you hadn’t expected—

What truly broke something you couldn’t name—

Was Megumi.

Megumi, whom you’d grown up with. Who unknowingly saved you. Who you’d trusted with more than your safety. Who you’d let in on the soft, unfinished parts of your life.

He hadn’t just betrayed you.

He’d calculated your erasure like a business decision.

And somehow, that hurt more than anything Gojo or Nanami had ever done.

---

That was yesterday morning.

Now it was twilight in Tokyo.

They probably thought you’d thrown yourself into the sea.

But instead, here you were, crying into a bucket of fried chicken.

And you were borderline dehydrated, emotionally overloaded, stuck in a fucking KFC parking lot on the outskirts of the city, trying not to break down into raw animal sobs as you cried into your Zinger.

Your hypercar—a pearlescent black Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut—was parked sideways across two spots, hazard lights blinking like a distress beacon. The carbon-fiber passenger door still hung open. Your mascara was not waterproof.

The sandwich was getting soggy in your hand, fries had gone cold, and the second tub of soft serve was pooling slowly into your leather seat. Your coat smelled like fried oil, and you didn’t care. Not after the two days you’d had.

You missed Takahashi. You hadn’t meant to leave the house without him. But you had to run. And your mother's flight had been delayed without warning, your pelvic pain had spiked again, and your body had decided—in the grand tradition of pregnancy craving betrayal—that you absolutely needed karaage from KFC right now or you’d lose your mind.

You shoved another fry in your mouth. Your sunglasses slipped to the tip of your nose, and you wiped your nose on your sleeve. Your phone buzzed again in your coat pocket—ignored. The car’s touchscreen blinked up missed calls: Nanami. Gojo. Fushiguro. Haibara. CHRO. Keji. Shoko. Even Higuruma and Kashimo.

But your fingers only twitched when you reached into the Karaage Kun box and found it empty.

You blinked at it. Then stared at it again like it might refill itself if you focused hard enough.

It didn’t.

You muttered something vile under your breath, threw it into the bag, and reversed sharply out of the space, startling a group of high school boys who had been trying to take selfies with your car.

You pulled up to the drive-thru window again.

The teenage employee there—a scrawny, gentle-eyed boy with two acne patches on his chin—took one look at your blotchy face, your designer maternity wear, and the angry tears still clinging to your lashes like guilt, and leaned in awkwardly.

“Would you, uh… like to eat inside? In the back? It’s private. No one will see.”

Your eyes narrowed. Not because he was wrong. But because it was too damn late.

Fushiguro probably already had Tokyo’s entire surveillance grid running facial recognition on CCTV footage. You had thirty minutes, max, before someone pinged your license plate and alerted the staff that you were a missing trillionaire heiress with a God Complex Husbands Alert Level 5.

You opened your mouth to politely decline—and that’s when it happened.

A sharp, gravel-thick voice from behind your Jesko snarled loud enough to startle pigeons off the KFC’s roof.

“What’s taking so fucking long?”

You froze.

This. This was your final straw.

Not the delayed flight. Not the ghost of Geto Suguru. Not the stress migraine. Not even the go-bag full of burner phones in your trunk.

No. It was this man, some impatient Tokyo businessman with too much money and too little self-awareness, honking at a crying pregnant woman ordering a ¥700 chicken snack set.

The teenage cashier turned pale and scrambled to shush him, mumbling something apologetic and helpless in corporate lingo.

But you were already getting out of the car.

Your heels—flat, orthopaedic, pregnancy-safe—hit the pavement with a purposeful thunk. Your bump was covered in a loose belted trench, collar flipped up, eyes bloodshot, mouth red from crying, ketchup and eating your own lipstick with the fried chicken.

You strode across the parking lot like your water might break from rage alone.

The man was in a Porsche 918 Spyder.

Rich, then. But not you – rich.

You knocked on his tinted window hard enough to make the glass vibrate.

The man inside—long dark hair, too many rings, cigarette hanging from his lip like an accessory—rolled it down and looked at you.

Your heart stalled. Had Geto found you?

Then he turned fully—and no, you didn’t know him.

“Hey,” he started. “I’m sorry for—”

He trailed off. His eyes didn’t leave your face. But his hand went back, casually, like muscle memory. He grabbed something—or someone—in the back seat and yanked.

A pink-haired burly man, Fushiguro’s age, popped into view. Eyes wide. Face pale.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, staring at you.

You didn’t care. You were done being polite.

“Do none of you have the decency to wait your fucking turn? You’re not the only ones starving!”

The pink-haired one gawked. The long-haired one blinked, snuffed his cigarette.

And then—

The rear door of the Porsche opened with a heavy, expensive click.

A man stepped out.

No—a wall of a man. Towering. Black spiky hair. Tattoos across his neck, his hands, the visible sliver of skin beneath his bespoke coat. His suit looked Brunello Cucinelli. His gait was slow. Controlled.

Somehow, he was taller than Gojo.

Which should’ve been illegal.

You took a step back. Your hip twinged.

He looked at you the way sorcerers looked at curses: like you were made of secrets and danger.

His voice was almost gentle when he spoke in English to you.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling. I was just… stunned. We were supposed to meet yesterday in New York, but you never came. Do you remember me, princess?”

You stared at him.

Confused.

Nauseated.

Because you did not remember him. Not the face. Not the voice. And especially not the “princess.”

Your hand—coated in fries and fatigue—slowly curled into a fist at your side, “Don’t call me that. Who the fuck are you?”

---

He’d seen a lot in his many lives.

Flesh peeled from bone in war. Gods weep beneath shrines. Kingdoms rise on the shoulders of men who lied.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for this: A woman powerful enough to end markets with a swipe of her hand, pregnant and a little crazy, yelling at a man twice her size at a Tokyo KFC lot like he’d committed a crime.

And to him? He had.

Because she didn’t remember him.

Not the face.

Not the voice.

Not the name he’d written for her the first time they’d met in Norway—softly, like it would break something if said out loud.

She stared at him now like he was a stranger. And it knocked the breath from his lungs harder than any curse ever had.

The same eyes. The same sharpness in her jaw when she was pissed, the same raw edge to her voice.

He opened his mouth. Could’ve told her. Could’ve said everything.

But the car behind him honked. Loud. Disrespectful.

And she turned.

Didn’t even wait.

Walked back to her car like he was just another suit in the noise.

Slammed the door. Didn’t look back.

He stood in the fading orange-pink glow of Tokyo twilight, heart slightly colder.

“Broooo,” came Yuji’s voice from the passenger seat. “You got rejected by a pregnant woman, in public. That’s generational humiliation, man.”

“She didn’t reject me,” He muttered, eyes still on her.

“She forgot you existed,” Junpei added helpfully from the back, licking spicy powder off his fingertips. “You’re a ghost. A failed Tinder date. A plotline that didn’t make the final cut.”

“Don’t you think she’s kinda scary, though?” Choso chimed in quietly, looking almost reverent. “She gives off strong mom-you-don’t-wanna-piss-off energy.”

“She is a mom,” Yuji pointed out.

“To twins,” He corrected, voice too soft.

They all looked at him.

“What?” He snapped.

“Nothing,” Choso said, already climbing out of the car, like that was answer enough as he walked to the car that had honked.

So of course, he didn’t think. Just walked.

Over to her Jesko, one hand raised, careful to keep his body language non-threatening. He knocked. Once. Lightly.

She looked up. Eyes bloodshot. Hands gripping the tub of chicken like a war trophy.

He held up the takeaway bag like a peace offering. Didn’t say anything.

She didn’t roll the window down. Just glared at him like she might reverse into him and not lose sleep.

Behind him, Yuji, Choso, and Junpei leaned out of the Porsche like hyenas watching a National Geographic special. “Go on then, Romeo,” Yuji stage-whispered.

The giant man ignored him. Nudged the bag closer. Still no window roll.

She shifted slightly—hand brushing toward the ignition.

But then… her stomach growled. Loud.

An indecent, almost comic little groan from deep within.

She froze. Looked horrified.

He bit back a smirk.

She sighed, finally rolling the window down with the resignation of a god forced to make peace with a lesser deity.

“Who the fuck are you?” Her voice was sandpaper and citrus. He almost missed it. The familiarity.

“Calm down, woman. I don’t hurt defenceless pregnant women.”

“Who. The fuck. Are you?” She snapped again, unbothered by his size, his tone, or the heat radiating off him like a threat.

He admired that. Always had.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” he said, slow, voice low. “From Itadori Industries, we specialise in market manipulation. I was trying to invest in your company. We met in Norway.”

She blinked. Sniffling. Mistrust etched deep in the slope of her shoulders.

“Show me your passport.”

He didn’t argue.

Instead, he turned and yelled, “Choso. You got the passports?”

Choso, saint that he was, was already halfway out of the car, rummaged around in his coat and brought it over.

As he handed it over, he leaned close and whispered, like it was sacred, “He wore this suit just because he was excited to meet you.”

Sukuna shot him a glare that could've flattened cities. Choso walked back, unbothered.

He flipped to the front page of the passport with one hand, takeaway bag still in the other.

Held it out.

She scanned it on her phone with the tired efficiency of someone who’d been betrayed before.

It pinged. Verified. Real.

She gave it back.

“I came to the meeting,” she murmured. “Some guy named Suguru showed up instead of you.”

Sukuna’s face darkened.

Who the fuck was Suguru?

Before he could say more, she sniffled.

“Princess,” he started, softer now. “Do you want to have this conversation while I stand outside your car with a takeaway bag like a solicitor?”

She wailed, openly now. “Nooo. Give me the food.”

And she got out of the car.

Didn’t stray from the door, but her body relaxed the slightest bit. Maybe from the scent. Maybe from the warmth of fried food. Maybe from the fact that Sukuna didn’t flinch when she got close enough to punch him.

He leaned against her car’s hood, offering the bag.

She rummaged through it like a raccoon with opposable thumbs.

Found too much food—because of course, he’d ordered one of everything Japan-exclusive. KFC bento. Teriyaki Twister. Pepper Mayo Twister. Chicken Katsu Sando. Matcha Tiramisu. Peach Mango Pie. Sakura Milk Tea.

She blinked. Whispered, almost suspiciously, “Did you poison it?”

He raised a brow.

Sukuna had been trying to meet with her for months. Months. And yet here she was, passing him the milk tea like it was some kind of test, like he wasn’t exactly who he said he was.

His hand almost brushed hers as he took the cup, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

He doubted it. She was too busy with the storm that raged behind her eyes to care about something as trivial as that.

He took it. Sipped. “Sweet,” he said, licking the sugar off his lip like it might make her remember.

She didn’t respond, her eyes still sharp like she could see every secret he kept buried behind his smirk.

“You look like you’re going through something,” he said, stealing a fry with the air of someone who didn’t have the blood of entire lineages on his hands. (He did. But not today.)

Her gaze barely moved, and her voice came out in a low, bitter monotone. “I hate my husbands.”

He smirked wider, his amusement sharp as glass. “I’ve seen the news.”

Yuji snorted from their car, and Sukuna glared at him.

She narrowed her eyes. “You look like a criminal.”

“'Cause I am,” he said, but shrugged. “Nah, just a sorcerer. Was."

“Get away from me,” Her mouth twisted as she began to pull away, pushing herself back into the uncomfortable space of her own thoughts. “God, they say sorcerers are rare but I keep encountering them like flies. Like cursed venereal diseases. It’s disgusting.”

Sukuna jumped to his feet without thinking, like it was second nature to console her, even if the reason felt foreign—some instinct buried deep in his chest, one he couldn't quite shake. He didn't need to comfort her. Hell, he probably shouldn't have. But for a moment, he wasn’t the monster he had been in another life; he was just a man, holding out a hand when it was needed. “No,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle. “I used to be one, but I’m not anymore. Don’t care about it, either. My brothers over there, and Yuji’s friend? They’re sorcerers too, but none of us participate in that die-a-thankless-death game.”

Junpei made a gagging sound behind the car. Choso threw a napkin at him.

“That’s what he said too,” she mumbled, shoving a mango pie into her mouth with the viciousness of someone who wanted to eat and disappear.

“Who?”

“The guy who showed up instead of you and … And there was this stitched-up guy and that fucking Naoya, and I thought I was going to die, and my husband lied to me about Suguru and his beautiful hair; he never told me about him.” She continued wailing.

Sukuna was confused between her sniffling, eating and crying combo. “Wait, slow down; start with the smallest one. Who’s the stitched guy? What did he look like?”

“His name was Mahito; he had stitches on his face and pale blue hair and looked at me like he was gonna open my stomach and take my babies like a claw machine prize.” She continued sniffing and also somehow sipping her tea.

Sukuna’s fists clenched.

He turned to Choso and yelled out, “Find where Mahito is. Now.”

Choso already had his phone out, mouth a thin line.

Sukuna turned back to her, voice low. “What about the other one? Naoya?”

“He looked at me like he wanted to assault me. I wanted to blind him with a tea spoon.” She said it so flatly, like violence was just a normal Tuesday.

“Naobito’s kid?” Sukuna asked. She nodded, still chewing. He gave a nod to Yuji, who was already on a call, voice sharp.

And then:

“Who’s Suguru?”

She went quiet.

Then, with all the ceremony of a royal confession, she slid him her half-eaten burger.

He accepted it like it was holy.

Then ate in silence with her for a while.

She began again, “He told me his name was Geto Suguru. That he and my husband were soulmates. And that I was their enemy. How the fuck am I someone’s enemy when I didn’t even know he existed?”

“Wait—Geto?” Sukuna stopped mid-chew.

She nodded, slow. “Yeah. Long black hair. Pretty, in that ‘will definitely commit a felony against humanity’ kind of way.”

Sukuna felt something shift in him.

“He’s supposed to be dead. There was a war a few months ago in Kyoto. Your husband killed him.”

Her eyes widened, horror blooming.

“Did I see a ghost? A curse?”

“Not possible. He was a curse user, yeah, but no one survives your husband.” Then he smirked. “Unless it’s me. I’m very strong, princess.”

She rolled her eyes and buried herself in the chicken like it could shelter her from the fact that apparently nothing in her life was real. “Less peacocking. More finding who’s impersonating you.”

“I’ll find out,” Sukuna said. His voice was flat, but his chest thrummed like a curse trying to break its seal. “And I mean that.”

Of course he did. She just nodded absently, like it was a customer service promise she’d heard before. There was Sprite condensation running down her fingers. Her lips were slightly swollen from all the salt. She looked exhausted. And holy.

That part hadn’t changed. Not in a thousand lives.

But then she said, “I have two husbands. And they’re both absolute clowns.”

Sukuna didn’t laugh.

(Okay—he let out a very soft, involuntary snort. Behind him, Junpei was wheezing into his Armani jacket, Yuji muttering “bro’s down bad”, and Choso took a photo of the moment like he was documenting a rare animal sighting.)

She kept going. “I wake up every morning to a new scandal,” she said, gesturing vaguely with a limp fry. “They bicker like old women in a laundromat. One of them tried to cheat on the 3AM Test with a voice actor, and the other failed so hard the internet started a NanaMoobs hashtag.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, more amused than he’d let show. “And yet, you are still married to them.”

“Bad decision-making, obviously.” So she was still in love with them.

He hummed, reaching for one of her fries again. Her wrist didn’t flinch this time. Small victories. “What did they do this time?”

She sighed, the kind that aged you five years in one breath. “Oh, nothing major. Just tried to abort my babies without telling me.”

Sukuna’s drink went down the wrong way. He coughed, violently, his eyes watering as Junpei whispered, “Bro…” with the reverence of someone witnessing an execution.

“…Excuse me?” Sukuna rasped.

She took a slow sip of her Sprite, eyes dead. “Yeah. Something about ‘if it was her or the baby, we’d choose her’ blah blah blah.’ I don’t know. I stopped reading after.”

For once in centuries, Sukuna had no words.

And that, in his world, was a fucking problem.

Because he’d once bathed in the blood of tyrants. He’d reduced kingdoms to ashes and made death feel like a mercy. His name had been enough to unmake faith.

But he had never, not once, been asked to comfort a furious, hormonal, fast-food-devouring, betrayed woman who used to be his entire world and now didn’t even recognize him.

And who was still, somehow, unspeakably radiant through it all.

This—this was worse than war.

So he said the only thing that came close to honesty. “You love them, right?”

She glared. Not just at him—through him. “What does that have to do with it?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “So hypothetically, if they were pregnant and historically too stubborn to save themselves, would you let them die?”

She blinked. The words caught her off guard. Her fry stilled halfway to her mouth.

“That’s an oddly sentimental thing to say,” she said.

He smirked. A slow thing, calculated, but tired around the edges. “I’m a businessman. Can’t let my biggest asset disappear, can I?”

She rolled her eyes, but the edge had dulled. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Mr. ‘Not a Criminal.’”

But she wasn’t crying anymore.

And Sukuna decided that—pathetically, pathetically—that was his greatest win in years.

She turned to him again, half her chicken gone. “But like—hiding an ex that fucking relevant is still bad, right? Like ‘my one and only’ and shit.”

The words twisted something deep in his ribcage. Deeper than his heart. The one that still beat only for her, even after all this time, all his deaths.

Sukuna hummed. Not dismissive, just thoughtful. “I guess. But then I have an ex—though I never called her that—who nearly set my entire life on fire. Yandere, textbook. I don’t talk about her. Not because I’m hiding her, but because she… made living unbearable. Some people are like that. Maybe your husband didn’t tell you because it hurt too much, and the other one didn’t because it wasn’t his secret to tell.”

He looked at her then. Really looked.

There was mango sauce on her lip. Chicken grease on her coat. Her hand trembled just slightly, probably from the sugar crash. And still—still—she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

But she didn’t remember.

Not the wedding. Not the way she’d laughed into his neck. Not the way she’d once laughed when he brought her those blobfish plushies for the babies.

She didn’t smile that tired smile while saying his name now.

There was no hate in her voice. No love either.

Just air.

She kept eating. Sipping her Sprite. Talking about two men who didn’t know what they had until they almost threw it away. Two men she still loved.

Behind him, Yuji laughed under his breath, “he’s got it bad.”

Choso handed him a tissue for the Sprite spill that hadn’t happened. Junpei was still smirking.

And Sukuna—he just sat there, breathing through a heartbreak that didn’t even have a name in this timeline.

---

Small A/N: Before/After reading the next bit, to draw the parallel, read this - [Tumblr/Ao3]

---

On the other side of Tokyo, the Fushiguros had gathered.

“Mom.” Megumi offered a hand when she climbed out of the jet.

She didn’t take it, just kept walking with her guards.

“I didn’t know. Then that doctor said she was fine, so there was no need to tell her in case the stress got to her.” He snapped.

She turned to him, “Your father would be disappointed in you.”

Megumi didn’t speak after that.

---

Across town, Nanami and Gojo were in hell. Again.

Nanami looked like a man trying to mathematically quantify grief. A golden ratio blade flickered and died in his palm every few seconds,  uncontrolled—his body stuck in a loop, like it was trying to fight something that wasn’t there anymore.

Gojo’s Six Eyes still burned. Pupils dilated too sharp, skin gray-blue, the corners of his mouth twitching from the static in his brain.

Neither had slept in twenty-eight hours.

They had tried every scenario.

None of them ended with a pin drop at a KFC.

Incoming Message: Location

They stared at the screen.

Gojo broke the silence, cautious—hopeful like a man hoping the corpse in the morgue might still breathe.

“She’s—?”

“KFC,” Nanami said. Flat. Not deadpan—dead.

Gojo squinted. “You think the universe hates me personally?”

Nanami didn’t answer. Just turned the key and revved the car like he meant to drive it through Heaven’s gates and make someone answer for it.

---

By the time they arrived, the sun was bleeding into the horizon.

She was outside. Sitting on the hood of her car like the world hadn’t just ended two days ago. Barefoot. Anklets catching light. One hand held a melting Sprite float, the other a neatly folded napkin like she’d just wiped off a joke.

She was laughing.

Not alone.

Two—no, four others lingered around her. All vaguely wrong. One looked like Haibara on benzos, another like a Megumi with worse judgment and better hair. A third had cult survivor written all over him, and the last—

The last looked like he’d walked out of an ancient curse and decided to become a CEO.

Nanami’s breath stalled. Rage bloomed slow and clinical—an aneurysm waiting for a reason.

Gojo’s voice was already splintering. “Who the fuck—”

Nanami’s cursed energy cracked across his wrist like stained gold glass—subtle but loud if you knew him.

She saw them.

Across the street, with her mouth still full of fries, she called out, “Oh hey, look who finally decided to show up. I was gonna save you some, but figured you’d make me eat a granola bar and cry about my blood sugar.”

Gojo stopped in his tracks.

Nanami blinked.

She grinned like she hadn’t haunted them for past 29 hours. Like she wasn’t the reason Gojo started drinking his coffee black again.

“Come here,” she called, louder. “You two look like you haven’t peed in hours.”

Gojo, under his breath, muttered, “Because we haven’t.”

Beside her, reading their lips, Choso grimaced. “Jesus.”

Sukuna chuckled low in his chest, his attention never leaving her. “You really made them come to a KFC?”

She laughed harder, grabbing her side. “You don’t get to judge. You literally told me you’ve been burning cash just for a ‘chance meeting.’”

“Your business is lucrative,” Sukuna said.

“You’re covered in money.”

He glanced at his bespoke three-piece. “It’s decorative.”

“Okay, American Psycho.”

Sukuna smiled. His hand twitched once—almost like he was going to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but didn’t.

Same as Nanami, Gojo was already halfway across the street. “Who are these people?”

“They’re my friends,” she said sweetly, swinging her legs off the car. “Don’t be jealous, Satoru.”

“I am jealous,” he muttered, eyes glued to her.

Nanami’s voice cracked, sharp and brittle: “What did you tell them?”

She stood. Twirled her straw once. Shrugged. “That my idiot husbands forgot I was dangerous. Corrupted my friends. Lied to me. So I made new friends. Ones who don’t gaslight and lie to me.”

Nanami took a single step forward.

She pointed a fry like a weapon. “Don’t. If you breathe without apologizing, I will stab this into your brain through your nose.”

Gojo wheezed. Somewhere between a sob and a snort.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I was already craving wings. Otherwise, I’d be halfway to Bhutan.”

She stepped off the curb.

Licked sauce off her thumb. Like she hadn’t been running for her life a day ago. Like she’d never had a panic attack in a jet with the lights off. Like the world didn’t owe her blood for making her survive it.

Her gait was relaxed. Chin high.

And then—

CRACK!!!

No echo. No cinematic recoil.

Just nerve, bone, and fate snapping in sync.

It was intimate. Like an exhale through a silencer. Like a trapdoor closing.

Her hand jerked. The Styrofoam cup slipped from her grip mid-sip, spiraling sideways—Sprite and melting ice cream spraying in a soft arc. Her other hand, still holding the napkin, trembled like it knew something her mind hadn’t yet registered.

Then—

Red.

A bloom at the base of her skull. Not metaphorical. Not poetic. Surgical. The kind of red that silences conversations mid-sentence. That never washes out.

Her shoulder twisted, tendons snapping like overstretched cables. A clean fracture. Deliberate.

And then she dropped.

Mid-step. No scream. No gasp. No hands thrown up in defense.

Just a body folding in on itself. Puppet. Cut strings. Floor.

Her knees hit first. Then her hips. Her skull would’ve cracked open if—

“NO—!”

Gojo’s voice split the air.

His body slammed the pavement just in time, arms sliding under her skull before it struck asphalt. His knees hit hard. He didn’t notice.

She was convulsing. Fingers twitching. Legs spasming like her nerves were glitching through static.

Her eyes fluttered open—barely. One blown wide. The other slow to respond. Her mouth moved, soundless, forming shapes she couldn’t say.

The back of her head was caved in. Blood bubbling at the base, wet and hot against Gojo’s thighs.

“Hey—hey. Look at me. Look at me—fuck, baby, just stay. Please stay—”

His voice was wreckage. No power, only panic. Shaky hands curled around her cheeks like he was afraid he’d break her worse.

She blinked. Just once. Then her pupils rolled up.

And still, he held her. Cradled her like a lifeline. A wrecked thing trying to hold together something softer than himself.

Her breath came out uneven. Like a machine trying to reboot.

Gojo didn’t feel the pain in his legs. Didn’t feel her blood soaking his clothes. All he saw was her face—lagging, like her brain was buffering behind real time.

For one breathless second—

Even Sukuna forgot who he was.

He blinked. Twice. His head tilted. Like something ancient had stirred from beneath his ribs.

Her face. Her blood.

The stillness.

He didn’t move. His hands twitched once at his sides. His throat clicked dry.

It was like watching a ghost die again.

“…No,” he breathed. “No—no, no—fuck.”

A memory surged:

He’d seen her bleed before. In another life.

Him, cradling her. Her gaze empty. The room sterile and humming with cold fluorescents. That awful antiseptic smell. The nurses whispering about miscarriage like it was a math error. All because the trauma to the womb was too violent.

A month later, Gojo. And Nanami. Suicides. News headlines.

She hadn’t remembered him in this life. Hadn’t even looked twice.

But Sukuna remembered everything.

The way her breath had sounded when she laughed in that life. The shape of the twins she lost before he could name them. The soft sigh she let out as she fell asleep in his arms. The nightmares—always the same men, the guilt too heavy to swallow. The way her eyes had looked when he told her she deserved to live, to be happy anyway—even after everything. The way they had looked when she told him she loved him. The way her lips had moved when she tiredly said his name for the first time.

That "Ryo" still ran through his bloodstream like a curse—he’d remember even if he forgot his own name.

The way she had asked him for help, like he wasn’t cursed.

He hadn’t begged for reincarnation.

He’d ripped it from the jaws of nonexistence—not to be a god, not to be reborn.

To see her again.

And now—

“No—” Sukuna’s voice came low. Not pleading. Not broken. Controlled.

Like a warrior watching the aftermath of an explosion he couldn’t stop. A man built to destroy, watching the one thing he didn’t want broken shatter anyway.

His hands curled into fists. Slowly. Silently.

Across from him, Gojo was still holding her. Still whispering like prayer was a reflex he’d never believed in until now.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me. Please, stay—don’t fucking do this to me—don’t—”

Choso turned pale, like the horror had wind behind it. “Who do we call?” he asked. “Hospital—police—do we—what the fuck do we do? We need a doctor—who’s treating her—”

No one answered.

Gojo didn’t even hear him. His voice kept going. Quiet. Shredded. “Stay. Stay. Please, stay. Just… just stay with me.”

Choso ripped Gojo’s phone out of his coat pocket, fingers slipping. His hand shook as he dialed.

Somewhere behind them, Yuji and Junpei were already moving—eyes dark, steps soundless, splitting off like wolves catching a scent. Trained. Tracking. Gone.

Nanami hadn’t moved.

Not yet. Not immediately.

Like his brain had glitched mid-frame. Like the universe had misfired—like the seconds between the gunshot and the collapse were just another nightmare in the endless reel of them.

He stood there.

Still.

Watching her bleed.

A man built on logic. Precision. Ratios and rules. Cause and effect.

But this?

This was mathematics without an equation. Balance without meaning.

Another cosmic joke played on a man foolish enough to believe he could keep something sacred in a world like this.

Then he saw it.

The red halo at the base of her skull. The unnatural kink in her spine. The shoulder pulled out of socket like a bird with a snapped wing. And the exit wound—clinical, too clean. Efficient.

Something in him shifted.

Not broke. Shifted.

Like a knife turning in its sheath.

He straightened.

He moved like something had been switched off.

Like the weight of a man whose grief wasn’t a feeling—it was a law.

Rage in Nanami was never hot. Never loud. It was the collapse of structure. The moment when the scaffolding gives and all that’s left is gravity.

He didn’t speak. He just walked.

His technique activated without gesture. No ritual. No threat.

The ground cracked beneath him. Golden ratios burned through the pavement like divine geometry. Reality bent into fragments, everything around him rearranged into lines of perfect consequence.

He was already measuring the moment—the bullet’s entry, the blast radius, the arc of collapse. Calculating, silently, the seconds she had left before brain death.

“What did you do?” Nanami asked. His voice didn’t raise. It was the sound of a hypothesis being disproven. A balance sheet that refused to align. A verdict already passed.

Behind him, golden blades began to hum violently—too precise to be called weapons. They weren’t made for war. They were made for correction.

Weak points blinked into the air like constellations on a surgical map.

He moved toward Sukuna.

And Sukuna didn’t retreat.

His hands twitched—not from fear, but restraint. Part of him wanted to summon every cursed tool he’d buried across the globe. His mind cycled through the names of every mercenary he had killed in secret to keep her safe. The spells he’d never used—not even when dying.

And the rage—the sheer, blistering fury—that he had let his guard down for one hour just so she could feel normal.

And this was what happened.

“You shouldn’t have looked at her.” Nanami’s voice landed like cold steel. “You shouldn’t have breathed the same air.”

Around Sukuna, the air sliced itself into pieces. Invisible blades hovering in calculus patterns—dozens of trajectories, all of them fatal. Reality split like a frog in a biology lab.

Sukuna didn’t flinch. Didn’t lift a finger.

“It wasn’t me.”

Gojo looked up, blood in his mouth, his eyes, his thoughts. Staining. Hers. “He’s lying—she was smiling,” he looked back at her. “She was smiling—”

“I didn’t,” Sukuna said again. Quieter. Still watching her. “I couldn’t. Why the fuck would I—?”

Nanami’s voice came like frost on a blade.

“I will burn down the laws of this world if it means ripping you apart.”

Sukuna straightened. Deliberate. Like a tree refusing to bow in a storm.

“You want to fight me now?”

Nanami didn’t answer.

His Domain cracked open behind him—reality cracking, rewinding, clockwork splitting open like a broken timepiece. Golden lines spun outward in spirals, mapping every single version of this moment.

Every version where she survived.

Every one that didn't.

This wasn’t rage.

It was annihilation.

Sukuna’s own Domain shuddered into existence—scarlet, grotesque, brute, heavy, like an axe swung through a cathedral.

The shadows warped around his frame. The air vibrated with it. The ground buckled.

“I didn’t fucking touch her.”

Even he—he—hesitated when he saw Nanami’s face.

Because there was no wrath there.

No vengeance.

Just the flat certainty of a man with nothing left to protect and nothing left to fear.

Sukuna’s rage curled inside him like a parasite chewing through meat. But he couldn’t exorcise it. Couldn’t spit it out.

Rage was all he had.

And rage felt like prayer.

“Do it, then,” he growled.

His voice cracked once—just enough to show the rot underneath.

“Fucking do it.”

Gojo didn’t move. He just held her.

His mouth against her temple. His hands cradling what they could not save.

“I didn’t say sorry,” he whispered. Not to anyone. Not to her.

Just to himself. Just to the air. Like he was giving the words permission to leave him now.

“I didn’t even get to say sorry…”

His fingers were red and shaking.

Her coat stuck to her ribs, soaked through.

Sukuna had trained himself not to feel. Feeling made you fail. Love made you late. Attachment got people killed.

But then she’d said his name.

In this life.

In that soft, exhausted voice. With eyes like she’d already forgiven him for whatever he hadn’t even done yet.

He wasn’t a god anymore. He knew it the moment she touched his wrist and didn’t recoil.

He was just a man.

A man who remembered what her laughter sounded like. What it felt like to be seen.

A man who was about to end a continent for her.

But she wasn’t blinking anymore.

And then—

A twitch.

Small. Shallow. The kind of movement most people would’ve missed.

But Sukuna wasn’t most people.

Her eyelids fluttered. Once.

Only he saw.

His jaw locked. A breath hitched in his chest—sharp and quiet.

He didn’t scream. Didn’t shout it aloud. Just—

“I didn’t do it,” he said again. The words were sharp now. Precise. Not a defence but a promise. “But I’ll help find who did.”

Behind him, Nanami’s golden blades froze mid-rotation. Suspended like judgement delayed.

The air stopped humming.

“Why?” he asked. Flat. Unbelieving.

Sukuna’s eyes never left her. “Because in another life, I watched a woman like that bleed out protecting idiots like you. And I don’t even know her.”

Nanami didn’t lower his hand. “I don’t care if you knew her in a fucking dream.”

Choso stepped between them—hand up, body rigid, his own technique thrumming in a futile attempt to shield his brother. But even he knew he was useless here. He was trying to hold back two tectonic plates with nothing but his spine.

Sukuna opened his palms. Empty. Still.

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“I don’t want to think,” Nanami replied like a man who didn’t want to hear his own thoughts anymore.

Gojo’s shoulders shook like a child’s.

Not from panic. From something worse—recognition. That this was real. That this might be the last time he held her with warmth still in her skin.

He whispered again.

Not to her. Not to them.

Just to the shape of her still in his arms.

“I didn’t even get to say sorry.”

His voice caught in his throat. A hiccup. A prayer’s corpse. Like he was whispering it to the version of her who’d already left.

Choso’s voice broke through in the background, rising in panic as he screamed into the phone. “She’s bleeding from the brainstem—there’s spinal trauma—we need an ambulance NOW—”

Gojo folded over her, head bowed, as if shielding her from the sound. “Baby, no,” he begged. “You’re strong. Stronger than both of us. So stay. Just a little longer. Just—stay. Please. Protect me. One last time…”

Something in his voice—not words, but the way he said them—stopped Nanami cold.

The blades vanished. His Domain closed.

And the silence returned—not peace. Not grief. Just that awful stillness that comes before a scream.

Gojo leaned lower.

His lips brushed her stomach.

“The twins…” he whispered, breath hitching.

His voice broke.

“I didn’t even get to say sorry.”

Sukuna moved again.

Slow. Controlled. Cautious, like approaching a dying god.

Red stained his collar. His shirt. His wrists. Her blood had dried at the corner of his mouth, but it still glinted in the light.

Yuji and Junpei were already gone—disappearing into alley shadows like bloodhounds with no leash. Their cursed energy sang behind them in violent harmony.

And the street was painted red.

Gojo rocked her body slightly. Whispering into her hair now. The words meant nothing. They were only shape and sound. “Don’t go,” he kept saying. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go—”

Except—

Her hand.

A twitch.

Not a movement. Not a miracle.

Just a final neuron firing.

---

📱Twitter/X

@CHRO, Gaming Studios | May 2, 2025

Today, the unimaginable happened.

Our CEO, founder, and my friend of seven years was the victim of a targeted shooting outside a private engagement. We are currently working with authorities. Out of respect for her family and those of us who love her, we ask for space and privacy.

She built a dream from nothing. She made this world more than it was.

Please keep her in your thoughts.

🗞️Official Press Statement

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Gaming Studios | May 2, 2025

Our studios are devastated to confirm that earlier today, our Chief Executive Officer and founder was involved in a violent incident outside a private location. The matter is currently under investigation, and we are fully cooperating with law enforcement.

A visionary behind one of the most influential gaming empires of the decade—a friend, a to-be mother, a wife, a daughter, a relentless force who refused to build anything less than a revolution.

We ask for patience, respect, and privacy for her loved ones and the gaming family during this profoundly difficult moment.

Further updates will be provided when appropriate.

---

After the hit

Haibara didn’t blink when the sniper’s echo died. He just exhaled softly, like he’d been holding in a cough. Then, with a gentleness that made Naoya shift uncomfortably, he patted Maki’s shoulder—twice. Like a priest giving last rites to someone still breathing.

He turned. Winked at Naoya like they were sharing a private joke.

“Let her go.”

Naoya scoffed but obeyed. His fingers slipped from Mai’s arm, slow with disdain.

Haibara’s voice lowered, flat and unimpressed. “It’s just a bullet. You’ve choked your own blood out for less, haven’t you?”

Maki didn’t flinch. Not when Mai stumbled into her arms. Not even when Mai clutched at her ribs and rasped her name. Maki’s gaze stayed fixed on Haibara. Unshaken. Surgical.

“You picked the wrong sister to threaten.”

Haibara smiled without teeth. “See, that’s the part I liked. Do you know why?”

No shout. No gloat. No warning. No waiting for an answer. “Because you shouldn’t have said that.”

He raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

Click.

One shot. Centered. Clean. Right between Mai’s eyes.

The sound was small. Not dramatic. Not final. Just... clinical.

Mai’s spine locked—then folded. Her weight slumped into Maki’s arms like a structure losing tension.

Maki didn’t scream.

She laid Mai down like she was putting her to sleep. One hand on her shoulder, the other cushioning her fall. Quiet. Focused.

Haibara didn’t wait for grief. He turned, flicked a hand in the direction of the body.

“Naoya. Get her out of my sight. My shoes are limited edition.”

Naoya grunted and kicked Mai’s corpse to the side like loose garbage. The body thudded against gravel, limbs folding awkwardly.

Still, Maki didn’t move. Her hands were slick. Her face unreadable.

“Megumi will kill you for this.”

Haibara grinned. All enamel. “Good. I’m counting on it.”

He paced a tight, deliberate circle around her. The gun swung in lazy loops from his fingers like a child’s toy.

“I’m not doing this for sport,” he said. “Or politics. Or whatever messy little revenge fantasy you’ve spun in your head.”

He stopped beside her. Then shifted slightly—gun lowering, gaze sliding past her.

Toward the street below. Toward you.

“Two heartbeats,” he murmured. “Feather-light. One flutters more than the other. Girl, maybe. You hear it?”

He didn’t wait.

“Twins. Inside her. You don’t need Six Eyes to hear it. Just patience. Stillness. Obsession.”

He smiled then. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I want them.”

It wasn’t said with lust. Or cruelty.

It was said the way collectors say, I want that painting.

The way scientists say, I want that body for dissection.

The way sorcerers say, I want that power.

“They’ll make glorious cursed objects,” he added. “Personal. Tragic. Intimate.”

Maki didn’t speak.

She moved.

No warning. No scream. Just acceleration—like a spring snapping forward.

Pure Toji’s curse. Clean, unstoppable violence.

The gun didn’t rise fast enough.

Haibara stepped back off the rooftop ledge.

But not in fear.

In invitation.

Behind him, his Domain bloomed open—slick, immediate, and silent.

Like silk unfurling from a box.

A trapdoor for gods.

He fell into it like he'd done it before.

Like he wanted her to follow.

And she did. Her foot crossed the threshold—

crack.

Another shot.

Clean. Efficient.

The bullet hit her mid-air, just below the sternum—left side, precise angle.

Her breath hitched. Her spine jerked. Blood bloomed from her chest like a curse blooming into form.

She shook.

Mid-lunge. All momentum gone. Her body folded in on itself—like a puppet yanked by frayed threads.

She never reached him.

She never touched the Domain’s edge.

She crashed. Bone snapped. Limbs bent wrong.

No scream. No dignity. Just meat hitting stone.

Ten minutes later, Yuji and Junpei found her.

There was no poetry. No storm. No wind cue. Just heat and buzzing flies.

Just traffic that didn’t stop.

No mourning. No rage.

Just reality. Still moving.

And somewhere else—clean, calm, unbothered—Haibara sent a message:

"Hearts are still fresh. You’ll need gloves."

---

A/N: hehehehehehe laughs like Mahito in a Gucci showroom this chapter was a psychological workout & a KFC commercial in disguise (Yes, I did it to torture Gojo; idk why he's growing more on me lately.) This chapter took a LOT of rewrites & delulu-fuelled breakdowns, but shoutout to my Todo (my beta bestie), who simultaneously enabled my fictional insanity & made sure I took naps like a toddler on a juice crash (she also made me eat fruit). My brain feels disturbingly relaxed even though I finished this in 2 days like a woman possessed by a keyboard demon. Thank you, girl, for keeping me from rewriting the ending 17 times. Did anyone clock Mamaguro?? LMAOOO & not Megs catching strays for existing 😭😭😭. Idk why I've been torturing him; he didn't even do anything except exist & love her. And, btw—Nanami’s reaction isn’t emotion bc he’s not regular, tax-paying Nanami anymore; he’s a special grade war ghost with grief compression issues. Also: HOW MUCH DO WE HATE HAIBARA NOW??? Please scream in the comments. I crave your rage essays like cursed energy. Your thoughts genuinely help me improve & shape this story—it’s my first time writing something this long & plot-based instead of just vibes & hot people with serious issues. How’d we like Suguwu-chan (or… whatever he is 👀) & the reader’s convo?? Was she not peak powerful, bad-bitch energy?? And don’t EVEN get me started on Sukuna!!! This man reappeared after 84 years & somehow aced every column with the highest marks possible?? I’m not even a Suku-girly, but maybe I’m also fictionally insane & it’s showing (but no, I’m not talking about canon Sukuna—I have no interest in murder or maternity, pls. I’m just tired). Also, Sukuna’s hair being black in this ending was an aesthetic choice bc I’ve seen the manga panels, & he’ll be built different next season. You’re free to hallucinate him however you want, just like my beta is doing as we speak. Also when he said “Ryomen Sukuna”? I flatlined. And not even his own spiritual homeboys spared him 😭. Absolute roast session. Peak television. Not Gojo crying like Andrew Garfield in The Amazing Spider-Man when Gwen died. Lmaooo. Loser. Please send your essays, memes, analysis & betrayal theories in the comments!! I re-read & reply to every single one like Gojo rereading her texts at 3AM.

Next Chapter 25 - Losing Sun - [Tumblr/Ao3]

All Works Masterlist

Beta - @blackrimmedrose

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @whos-ruru @helo1281917

[todaysdocument]

Letter Relating to Vigilance after the Victory in Europe

Record Group 181: Records of Navy Installations Command, Navy Regions, Naval Districts, and Shore EstablishmentsSeries: Security-Classified General Correspondence

[Written F with a check next to it]

[Written B with a check next to it]

CONFIDENTIAL 20 APRIL 1945

--------------------

181615 D

FROM: UNDERSECNAV

TO: ALSTACON

SUBJECT: V-E DAY

REFERENCE: (A) ALSTACON 131500 APRIL.

1. ADMRIAL KING HAS AUTHORIZED THE FOLLOWING STATEMENT [UNDERLINED] FOR RELEASE AT THE APPROPIATE TIME. [END UNDERLINE] "TO ALL CIVILIAN WORKERS. GENERAL EISENHOWER HAS ANNOUCED THE CESSATION OFORGANIZED RESISTANCE IN EUROPE. A THIRLLED AND GRATEFUL NATION IS JUSTIFIABLY PROUD OF ALL WHO MADE THIS ACCOMPLISHMENT POSSIBLE.

BUT THIS IS TOTAL WAR-- A GLOBAL WAR. WE ARE BUT HALF WAY TO COMPLETE VICTORY. THERE REMAINS TO BE CONQUERED THE ENTIRE JAPANESE NATION. MEN ARE STILL FIGHTING AND STILL DYING AND WILL CONTINUE TO FIGHT AND TO DIE IN THE HARD PUSH TO TOKYO.

THE CASULTY LISTS TELL THE STORY, TRAGIC YET GLORIOUS OF THE FIGHTING MENS WILL TO WIN UNCONDITIONAL VICTORY NO MATTER WHAT THE COST. WE HAVE A SOLEMN COMPACT WITH THESE MEN. THE ROAD THAT LIES AHEAD DEMANDS FROM EACH OF US A MATCHING DETERMINATION AND UNITY OF EFFORT THAT WILL SHORTEN THE TIME DURING WHICH SUCH SACRIFICES MUST CONTINUE.

TODAY EVERY WORKER SHOULD RE-DEDICATE HIMSELF AND HERSLEF TO THE TASK OF PROVIDING THESE MEN WITH THE F IRE POWER THEY NEED TO SMASH THE REMAINING ENEMY. TO DELAY NOW IN CELEBRATION OF PAST SUCCESS WOULD BE FATAL TO CAREFULLY LAID PLANS. WE CANNOT - AND MUST NOT - PAUSE IN DISCHARGE OF OUR DUTY SO LONG AS A JAP REMAINS A THREAT TO THE LIFE OF A SINGLE SOLDIER OR SAILOR.

LET EACH OF US GET ON WITH OUR JOB. SIGNED ERNEST J KING FLEET ADMIRAL USN COMMANDER IN CHIEF US FLEET AND CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS."

[UNDERLINED] UPON PUBLIVATION OF GENERAL EISENHOWERS EXPECTED ANNOUCEMENT [END UNDERLINE] THE FOREGOING STATEMENT SHALL BE BROUGHT TO THE ATTENTION OF ALL EMPLOYEES. THIS MESSAGE SHALL BE PLACED ON A LETTER HEAD OR OTHER APPROPIATE FORM AS A STATEMENT WITH PARAGRAPHING AND PUNCTUATION AS QUOTED. COMMANDING OFFICERS MAY ADD APPROPIATE COMMENT AS DESIRED. IT MAY BE REPRODUCED IN LARGER SIZE FOR DISPLAY ON BULLETIN BOARDS BROADCAST ON PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEMS REPRODUCED AND DISTRIBUTED TO EACH EMPLOYEE OR USED IN OTHER WAYS TO BRING ITS MESSAGE EFFECTIVELY TO CIVILIAN WORKERS.

REF(A) : CONCERNED V-E DAY.

DISTRIBUTION

--------------------

DIST LIST 1 - 9.

[Signature on bottom right of page]

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How long would Death Note be if Light was actually a completely law-abiding, if vaguely narcissistic, citizen during the kira murders who just so happened to tick off L's "he's a serial killer" radar?

I mean, that's the thing, he wouldn't tick off L's radar

Why Did L Suspect Light Anyway

L does single-mindedly pursue the theory of "Light Yagami is Kira" to an utterly insane degree, even accepting for things like "he conveniently got amnesia for no reason" and "even though I put cameras in every corner of his house I didn't catch him" and "even though I handcuffed him literally to my side I couldn't catch him"

It is nuts.

However, I will give L credit, he didn't pick Light out of a hat.

L's initial theory was simply that Kira was in Japan and taking a stab in the dark probably the Kanto region. Light confirmed this for him due to an egotistical hissy fit with L having to put in very little effort.

This brought L to focus on Tokyo.

L further figures out fairly early on that Light has a student's schedule, not a working adult's in Japan, and this is because Light at the time didn't realize he could control the exact time at which a person dies and by the time Light changes his method it's already too late.

Now, what happened then is that Light intentionally tipped his hand. After Lind L. Taylor, Light took L's existence extremely personally and nursed quite the grudge and the vendetta. To "win" as Kira, to prove he's a god to himself and the populace, he must personally kill L. As a result, Light does many things that put him in danger/do nothing to help him as Kira just to have his chance at L.

The big one is that he starts using information only known to the Japanese police force. He intentionally does this so that L focuses enough on Tokyo and the police there that Light can get a firmer grasp on him, what Light didn't account for was that L would immediately narrow in on him and him alone or the lengths he'd go to in order to investigate Light as a suspect.

But thanks to Light, L did know that whoever was doing this had access to police information not available to the public. Now, Light was likely hoping L would assume it was a cop, but L expanded his search to the police and their family members, presuming that family members may have access to these networks due to insecure home practices and such (which Light does).

Now, L never explains canonically why he's so certain Light is Kira, but if I'm putting myself in his shoes I can take a wager as to why Light made him go "ding ding ding".

L's looking for the type of person who would become Kira. He already knows this person is Japanese, likely a student in a rigidly structured school day (so not in university), but someone with good enough English to have followed the Lind L. Taylor broadcast, someone savvy with the internet so as to kill international criminals.

What he also knows is that Kira is obsessive, manic, single-minded, and unquestioning of his beliefs. Kira is also someone with an absurd amount of faith in law enforcement and the justice system (Light... doesn't spend too long questioning whether or not the people he sentences to death are guilty of the crimes they were sentenced for/the life circumstances which might lead to someone committing a heinous crime and whether or not that matters) which makes sense for a workaholic policeman's son in homicide whose son idolizes him.

Not to mention that, aside from his hatred of L, Kira is extremely respectful of the police in general. He never goes after the Japanese police the way he does L (only the FBI agents tailing him) and it's clear that his great rivalry is with L, not the Japanese police, interpol, or any kind of cops.

So, we're looking at someone who really respects the law... without understanding what the law even is, why it exists, or why "no, Light, murdering thousands of people does not magically make you exempt".

Adults typically don't act like Light does. Even after the six-year time skip, Light's still obsessive but he has changed greatly from the boy he was. And Mikami, an adult who is inspired by him and kills in the same way is... a very different kind of person ultimately driven by a victim mentality.

My point is, it would make sense for L to suspect a teenager rather than an independent adult. The schedule lines up, the personality lines up, and while this is very likely a highly precocious individual (and someone who knows he's very clever) they still feel young.

So, L narrows it down to a set of families and look what we have: Light Yagami, brilliant young man who scores first in the country on every exam he ever takes, talented in athletics at a national level, has succeeded at everything in his life and is the pride and joy of his family, utterly adores his police chief father and has repeatedly shown interest in following his career path and even taken steps towards doing so as a high school student.

And L says "bingo".

But Back to Your Question

Putting aside whether or not anyone else would ever go as ham killing the types of people Light did for no particular reason (Misa, for example, would probably have only gone after her parent's killer. Mikami would have gone after his childhood tormentors/his mother. Higuchi went after corporate rivals) there's also whether they'd have that police information from Japan (probably not likely), and if they'd act the way that Light did.

Basically, while it is a nice thought... I don't think L would suspect Light in these circumstances as he'd ultimately be dealing with a very different person who acts in very different ways.

Light would never tip off his radar.

[lboogie1906]

Lanny Smoot (December 13, 1955) is an electrical engineer, inventor, scientist, and theatrical technology creator. With over 100 patents, he is Disney’s most prolific inventor and one of the most prolific Black inventors in American history. He worked to inspire young people, especially Black youth, towards STEM.

Born in Brooklyn, he attended Brooklyn Technical High School. He attended Columbia University supported by a Bell Labs Engineering Scholarship and received his BS in Electrical Engineering. He started work at Bell Communications Research. He completed his MS in Electrical Engineering from Columbia. He worked at Bell for two decades, where his mentors included James West, co-inventor of the electret microphone. Around 2000, he moved to Disney where he is a Disney Research Fellow.

At Bell, he was known for his work on the early development of video-on-demand and other video and fiber-optic technology. He anticipated a future where anyone could broadcast video.

At Disney, his accomplishments include the drive system for the Star Wars BB-8 droid, interactive zoetropes for facial animation of objects, eye imaging for superhero masks and helmets, “Where’s the Fire?” at Innoventions (Epcot), many Haunted Mansion special effects, virtual interactive koi ponds in Hong Kong Disneyland, Fortress Explorations at Tokyo DisneySea, “Power City” in Spaceship Earth (Epcot), and lightsabers for the Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser experience. Other patented inventions include new ride technology and glassless 3D displays. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[chernobog13]

Bin Furuya, the suit actor who portrayed Ultraman, welcoming Hirohisa Nakata, who plays the title character in Captain Ultra.

Captain Ultra took over Ultraman's time slot during Tokyo Broadcasting System's Takeda Hour, which was sponsored by the Takeda Pharmaceutical Company.

Captain Ultra was a 24-episode filler series, holding the time slot until Ultraseven began broadcasting. Furuya-san returned as a series regular in Ultraseven, only this time as a member of the Ultra Guard, and not in a creature costume.

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 01x35 - The Fairy of Odaiba! Lilymon Blooms / Flower Power

Previously on Digimon Adventure: Vamdemon didn't even realize he had the ultimate Chosen Children Collector's Item in his possession until he'd already taken it out of the package. Amateur move. Can you really even call yourself a Chosen Children fandom nerd if you can't even name all eight Partner Digimon? What a scrub. Fake nerd vampire.

This is another episode that I've been eagerly waiting for! Now, at long last, it's time for the best evolved Digimon in the show to debut. Yes, even the Ultimates/Megas.

We open on the Rainbow Bridge. Traffic is congested due to Vamdemon's fog bank, slowing traffic both for drivers and for the public transit system.

Tachikawa Keisuke, Mimi's dad, is on his way back to Odaiba. He checks his watch and sighs. It's 9:02 PM.

Keisuke: I'm screwed.... Announcement: Please excuse this interruption in your travel plans, but the train must slow down due to heavy fog.

We find Vamdemon up on top of the Fuji Broadcasting Center or FCG, which overlooks Tokyo Bay across from Daiba Park. Vamdemon is performing an eerie incantation with his hands, conjuring up the fog bank.

Vamdemon: Soon this fog barrier will be complete. Then this land will turn into Hell. Hmhmhmhm Ah Ha Ha Ha Ha....

In the dub:

Keisuke: (checks watch) Oh boy.... Announcement: Due to the continuing heavy fog, we'll be experiencing some delays up ahead. Please bear with us. (Cut to FCG Building) Vamdemon: Ha! It's almost done. Huhuhuhahahahaha!!! Soon now, not in fire or ice but in fog, this world will be mine! Huhuhuhahahaha HUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Kinda feels like "this world will end" would be the natural follow-up to "not in fire or ice but", but maybe that's just me.

Out in the playground late at night, Mimi is feeding Palmon. Unlike the other Partner Digimon who can just eat leftovers from their Partner's dinner, Palmon has to plant her roots in the dirt.

She's not impressed.

Palmon: Tokyo's soil doesn't taste very good. Mimi: Guess what? This place used to be part of the sea. Palmon: ... Mimi: ^_^ Here, you can have this. Palmon: Thank you!

Mimi's little anecdote there is an attempt to explain why Palmon's not enjoying the soil. Odaiba is a man-made island constructed from transported soil, some shipped in and some drudged out of the water. Palmon's eating ocean dirt.

Though they do have a bunch of parks there, so maybe Palmon's being snobby.

Mimi pours bottled water onto Palmon's roots for sustenance. Palmon seems much happier about that, right up until Mimi suddenly throws a sheet over her in a panic. She hears footsteps.

Mimi: (wrestling with the sheet) Shh! Quiet!

Keisuke, walking home from the station, comes into view and spots her.

Keisuke: Huh? Mimi! Is that you, Mimi!? Mimi: PAPA!!! Keisuke: What are you doing out here so late? Mimi: Uhhhhhh nothing special. I'm here to pick you up.

See, this is why Mimi rarely lies. Because she is the worst at it.

In the dub:

Palmon: Yuck! This soil's polluted! Tastes like gasoline and old candy wrappers! Mimi: I've got this bottled water! Try it; It's fresh and pure as a winter morning in the Swiss Alps! At least, that's what it says on the bottle. Palmon: Okay! Pour it on my roots! (enjoying) Mmm, yummy. Yodelayheehoo! (BLANKET) Mimi: Hush!

American kids aren't going to understand Mimi's comment about Odaiba's history, so the dub team came up with a different explanation for Palmon's dissatisfaction. American kids do understand pollution. Especially 90's kids, who grew up in a time when messages about personal responsibility to clean up our planet were everywhere.

The rest of Mimi's dialogue space is used for a charming exchange about mass-produced mineral water.

Keisuke: Mimi? Is that you? Mimi, what are you doing out here? Mimi: Oh! Hi, dad. Keisuke: You should be inside. Mimi: Well, you see... Uh... I was just waiting for you!

To sell her panicked claims, Mimi plops her hat down on top of the giant lump of bedsheet in her arms. Absolutely nothing to see here! Just a sweet and trustworthy face that is definitely not up to anything.

Nothing suspicious here AT ALL.

Mimi: You're home late today. Keisuke: The train took its time because of the fog. Hey, I have to ask, what's in the blanket? Mimi: EHHHHHHH!?!?

Mimi practically screams with alarm at Keisuke's question, then grabs his arm and starts speed walking home, practically dragging him along.

Mimi: Let's hurry home, Papa! Mama must be worried! Keisuke: Uh....

THE BEST at lying. XD Look, don't go to the Crest of Purity if you want talented deceit.

Dub Mimi lies a little better.

Mimi: So Daaad... Why are you so late, anyway? Keisuke: It's this fog. It's got everything tied up in knots. Say, what's that you've got under your hat there? Mimi: Oh, it's just a, uh... (Mimi grabs Keisuke's arm and starts pulling him) Mimi: Brr, it's getting cold out here! We better hurry up and get home or Mom will be worried!

She does not scream in her father's face because of the question, though she's still clearly trying to change the subject. Consequently, the original version is funnier, though I like the dub's addition of "It's cold out here!' to Mimi's avoidance waffling.

Once they're safely tucked away in Mimi's room, she explains herself.

Wow, her room is small. Taichi and Hikari's room is a lot bigger. Though, to be fair, it has to fit two kids.

Mimi: I'm sorry. It'd be nice if you got away with pretending to be a stuffed animal, but I don't want them to think I have bad taste. Palmon: Bad taste? (wilts) You mean me? Mimi: Ehehe, don't read too much into that. Palmon: :( (Long, awkward pause) Mimi: Tehe!

That last line from Mimi is basically like a "Teehee!" She's trying to raise Palmon's spirits. But Palmon is so fucking offended by what Mimi said.

In the dub:

Mimi: Sorry, I could have pretended you were my doll or a stuffed animal, I suppose. But I have a reputation for good taste to maintain. Palmon: I'm in bad taste!? (wilts) Is that what you're saying!? Mimi: Oh ho ho, Palmon, I didn't mean it that way! Really! Palmon: :( (long, awkward pause) Mimi: Really!

The wording's a little different but the core idea still gets across. Mimi says some offensive shit to Palmon and then fails miserably when she tries to backpedal.

This builds off of what we saw in the first episode of the kids' return to Japan. Remember when Mimi completely bailed on Palmon because she saw her human friends? All Mimi ever wanted was to get home, to be safe again, and to stop having to do all this Chosen Child and Digimon conflict. She took being drafted as a child soldier harder than anybody.

She has never wanted to be a part of that world.

Meanwhile, out in their tiny apartment's dining room, Mimi's parents are fucking adorable.

Satoe: I made kimchi fried rice and topped it with whipped cream and strawberries! How is it? Keisuke: (nom) Mm, it's good! This tastes so great! Satoe: Yay! Eat as much as you want! Say, 'Ahh!' Keisuke: Ahh! Satoe: Ahh!

That last bit is delivered over a closeup of the kimchi so it's not clear if she took the spoon and is feeding him or what. Either way, they're adorable. At least somebody in this group has zero family drama.

The Tachikawas may be squeezed into a fucking closet but they love and cherish each other dearly.

In the dub:

Satoe: I made this dish up myself. I call it shrimp-fried rice with whipped cream and strawberries. Well? Keisuke: (nom) You've really outdone yourself this time, honey. Satoe: You mean it!? Oh, I'm so glad you like it! You mean it!? Keisuke: I mean it! Satoe: Really!? Keisuke: Really!

Yeah, they're just as cute over here.

Though I have to say, the size of Mimi's tiny-ass apartment is inadvertently hilarious in the dub after all that time spent playing her up like she's the heiress to the Bezos fortune.

Meanwhile, across town at Cram School, Jou's life is ruined.

Narrator: Around this time, Jou was in the city outside Odaiba. Jou: A 54. This is the worst grade I've ever gotten in my life.

Gomamon pokes out of Jou's duffel bag.

Gomamon: Cheer up! Life's full of ups and downs.

This meager encouragement works, bringing a smile to Jou's face.

Jou: I should call home and tell them I'm being kept after classes today. (Jou tries to call) Recording: The number you have dialed is not in service. Jou: That's weird. There's no reception.

The dub cuts the shot of Jou's graded test. At this point, we're pretty far past trying to conceal Japanese text from the audience; In fact, there's Japanese text on the windows of his cram school, which the dub keeps. So I imagine they cut it so they can lie about what it says.

Joe: I can't believe I got a C! There goes Med School. And my dad wanted me to call right away and tell him my grades! Gomamon: (pops up) A C? Forget about Myotismon; This is a real disaster! Joe: (smile) You're right. Clearly this grade is the result of all of the stress from the monster attacks. Gomamon: Well, if you can't get into medical school, I'd try politics.

First off, they undersell the severity of Joe's bad grade. 54 isn't a C. That's an F. The Japanese system is a little different from the American one but 59 and under is still an F. Jou is here to prepare for his entrance exams, which will determine the quality of middle school he's able to attend, and he fucking failed the test.

It's a good thing this was a practice! Jou is brutally unprepared to return to academia. Probably because he just spent the last four months or so on an alien planet foraging for berries and trying not to be killed by monsters. It's hard to study algebra under those conditions.

I do like that the dub makes a direct connection between Joe's bad grade and the Digimon battles, though they undersell that too.

They also removed Jou's attempt to call home, which sets up the signal problems that Vamdemon's fog bank is creating for Odaiba. He mentions he's gonna, but he never makes the call and finds out Odaiba no longer has phone service.

Jou isn't the only one having signal reception problems. In Yamato's single-dad apartment, even tinier than the Tachikawa home, the TV's gone to static. He attempts multiple esoteric poses with the TV remote to try and bring the signal back.

Yamato: No! Come on, work! (pose) C'mon! (pose) How (pose) about (pose) this!? (surrender) Ugh... It was just getting good!

In the dub:

Matt: Oh no! Gimme a break! Come on! (goes through all the poses without saying anything, then surrender) Aw, man! Right when it was about to get to the best part!

So, bad nights all around, it seems. Let's not forget that Taichi and Hikari are out there having the shittiest night too.

While Vamdemon's doing his fog ritual up on the roof of the FCG Building, his father Hiroaki is working late inside. We join him at a vending machine, retrieving his change to put into his wallet. His eyes linger on an old family photo from happier days.

Suddenly, one of his colleagues runs past.

Hiroaki: What's going on, Chioka? Chioka: Ah! Ishida-san! You're awake? We've got big trouble! None of our station's transmissions are working! Hiroaki: What!? Chioka: No one knows what's causing it! It could be a system crash or something faulty in the electronics. Both transmission and reception are down!

Nobody ever suspects Rooftop Vampire. But, up top, Vamdemon finishes casting his fog spell.

Vamdemon: No one will escape. That includes, of course, the Eighth Child. Hmhmhm HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!

The dub renames Chioka.

Hiroaki: Hey! What's going on, Charlie? Charlie: You're awake! I was just coming to get you! The whole system's gone down! Transmitters, satellite feed, the whole shebang! Hiroaki: What!? Charlie: If it's a system glitch, it's like the Godzilla of all systems glitches! But we can't even check it out because communications are down too! It's like the end of the world or something! (Meanwhile, on the roof) Myotismon: No one will escape! No one! Not even the Eighth Child! Hmhmhmwahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

I really like Charlie referencing Godzilla, because that's a pop culture reference that someone in Tokyo might reasonably make.

Returning to wherever Jou's cram school is, we find him unable to return home.

Announcement: Due to heavy fog in Odaiba, we will not be able to provide train service to that area. It may be some time before service is restored. Jou: Even the public phone booths don't work. What a hassle.... Gomamon: (peeking out of duffel bag) This world has its problems too.

Over in the dub, the effects are even worse.

Announcement: Due to a systems failure, all trains will be delayed indefinitely. We apologize for the inconvenience. Joe: The pay phones don't work either! What's going on? Everything's falling apart! Gomamon: (peeking out) It could be worse. We could be stuck on the train!

All trains. The signal-scrambling fog in Odaiba is so bad that it's nuked the entire train network in the greater Tokyo area. Was that necessary, Myotismon? Little bit overboard there, bud.

Back at the FCG Building, Hiroaki confers with his team about what's happening. Well, with two of the three; Sakurada is listening to a tape cassette while Hiroaki chats with Chioka and Yuki.

Chioka: The broadcast system's been going haywire ever since the fog showed up. Hiroaki: So it happened while I was tossing out the papers.... Yuki: None of our phones are working either. (Hiroaki throws on his jacket and starts to walk away) Yuki: Where you going!? Hiroaki: Isn't it obvious? I'm going to investigate. That's our job. Yuki: Understood.

Yuki and Chioka move to follow Hiroaki. Without missing a beat, Yuki yanks the headphone cord out of the radio on the desk, disturbing Sakurada.

Yuki: Sakurada-kun, let's go. Sakurada: O-Okay!

With the headphones unplugged, we can hear that he's been listening to the chanting of sutras, like the one Jou used to weaken Bakemon way back when. Something to chase away the ghosts and demons that could be emerging from the fog.

In the dub:

Charlie: Everything started going wonky ever since that fog came in. Yuki: Even my cell phone isn't working. Of course, it wasn't working before but still... (Hiroaki throws on his jacket and starts to walk away) Yuki: Hey, where are you going? Hiroaki: To earn my pay! To investigate this thing. That's what I do, after all. Yuki: We'll come with you. (Yuki pulls out the headphone cord) Jeremiah: Huh? Radio: Believe in yourself. Say it. "I believe in me." Good.

Yuki's expositional line that all the phones are down is replaced by a laugh line. We're kinda losing track of the fact that the phones have been disrupted. This is two references to the phones that have been replaced, with the only remaining one being Joe's ambiguous statement that the pay phones in the train station don't work.

Yuki says nothing when she yanks out the headphone cord so now it looks like she was messing with Sakurada, now named Jeremiah as revealed later in the episode, for funsies.

As with the Bakemon episode, the religious chanting has been replaced by self-help affirmations. Next time I meet a possessed kid, I'm taking them to a TED Talk. Apparently that's the trick.

At the Yagami residence, a terrified Hikari peeks out at the night through the curtains.

Hikari: ...Tailmon....

Taichi sits up and leans out of the bottom bunk.

Taichi: (determined) Wait for tomorrow. I'll call everyone tomorrow morning, and then we can go save her. Agumon: Hikari-chan, Taichi is worried too, but you should get some sleep. Hikari: (closes curtains, defeated) Mm....

Hikari climbs up into the top bunk and pulls the blanket up.

Taichi: Can you sleep? Hikari: (covers her face with the covers) I'll try. Taichi: Good. Leave everything to me.

Hikari is distraught. Holy shit, her face in this scene is heartbreaking.

In the dub, Kari wakes Tai up on purpose.

Kari: Hey, Tai? Do you think Gatomon's okay? Tai: (empathetic) Sure she is, Kari. First thing tomorrow, we'll go find her. Agumon: Don't worry, I think we'd better go to bed. We'll need our rest to fight Myotismon. Don't want to fall asleep on the job, do ya? Kari: Okay.... (Kari climbs up into the top bunk) Tai: You scared, Kari? Kari: (covers her face with the covers) Not really. Tai: Attagirl. Leave everything to me.

Tai and Kari talk about Gatomon like she just ran away from home. Agumon goes too far the other direction. Uh, no, Agumon; Kari does not need her rest to fight Myotismon. The plan is still that she goes nowhere near him.

I do like the way the dub uses Kari's last line. Juxtaposing her dialogue against the animation of her hiding her face under the blanket, to convey that she's not as tough as she's trying to act. Her voice even quivers a little. That bit is perfect.

Mimi peeks out of her room to say goodnight to her parents.

Mimi: Have a good night!

Then she realizes Palmon popped out with her and has to stuff her back into the room, while still awkwardly smiling to her parents.

Parents: Good night!

Meanwhile, at Yamato's place, he's written a letter to his father.

Letter: To Dad: There's boiled mackarel in the fridge. Underwear in the laundry. Yamato: He's working overtime again.

Yamato tries the TV again, but still only gets static.

Yamato: This is so weird.

In the dub:

Mimi: I'm dying my clothes pink again! (Mimi stuffs Palmon back into the room) Satoe: Okay!

At 11 PM!? Why!? Weird-ass line change!

The dub cuts Yamato's letter but keeps the dialogue.

Matt: Looks like Dad's working late again. (Matt tries the TV again) Matt: Something weird's going on!

No boiled mackarel for Dub Hiroaki, it seems. Gabumon probably ate it all.

Hiroaki and his team continue working to bring the FCG Building back up. They've taken a van out to go scout the mystery fog and figure out how far it extends.

Hiroaki: And so, this is what the fog encompasses. Chioka: It only covers Odaiba. Yuki: It's like someone is controlling the fog. Like a wizard or something! Sakurada: ...maybe we should go back to the station.

Superstitious Sakurada is not pleased about being out in the Ominous Wizard Fog. He's immediately proven correct when the ground shakes suddenly, rocking the van. A colossal monster stomps through the night, passing in plain sight near their van.

Sakurada: K-k-k-k-- Chioka: (claps a hand over Sakurada's mouth) Quiet! Yuki: You saw that too, right!? Both: Mhm!

The Fuji team pile out of the van for unclear reasons.

Hiroaki: Perhaps the fog has something to do with these kaiju....

Yamato's dad is on the right track. These things are, indeed, related.

Over in the dub:

Hiroaki: The fog's disrupting our entire area! Charlie: Why isn't any other part of town seeing fog? Yuki: It's like some alien power's controlling the fog bank with magic or something. Jeremiah: Magic? Stop trying to scare me! (Giant Digimon stomps past) Jeremiah: What's that!? Charlie: (claps a hand over Jeremiah's mouth) Keep it down. Yuki: You both saw it!? Both: Mhm! (Everyone exits the van) Yuki: Good! At least I know I'm not the only one going crazy! Hiroaki: What's the connection? Somehow, the fog's tied in with all these monsters we keep seeing.

Pretty straight adaptation. It's phrased very differently but all the key points are hit. Yuki also gets a silence-breaker as they're exiting the van so she can punchline the "You saw it too!?" moment.

Suddenly, getting out of the van is proven for the bad idea that it was.

A swarm of Digimon attack the crew from all directions. Yuki screams while the narrator goes into the rundown.

Gizamon is a Child-stage Virus-type Aquatic Mammal Digimon. The name comes from the onomatopoeia for a sawing motion. Gizagiza. They're the sibling evolution to Gazimon, evolved from a Pagumon that didn't get hugged enough. Their evolutions that have appeared thus far are Devidramon, Flymon, and Raremon.

Narrator: Gizamon. Though they prefer to live underwater, these ferocious Child-stage Digimon can jump like frogs on land. Hiroaki: Careful, everyone!

The swarm descends upon the Fuji team.

In the dub, the Gizamon do their own rundown.

Gizamon: Let the human scream! It doesn't bother us Gizamon! We travel in packs, creating terror! Whether on land or underwater! Hiroaki: Everyone, get in the car!

Good advice! I don't know why we got out of it!

We leave our Fuji crew there, under Gizamon assault. Time passes, and we come to the following morning, when news crews outside the city have discovered what's become of Odaiba.

Takeru and his mother Natsuko are watching the news, where a helicopter pilot reports on the fog bank.

Reporter: It's fog! This fog has completely covered Odaiba! We cannot contact anyone inside! The safety of Odaiba's residents remains unknown.

Takeru dramatically drops his spoon in his cereal bowl and stands up.

Takeru: (determined) I have to go. Natsuko: Takeru! Takeru: (more firmly) I have to go! Onii-chan and Papa are in there!

Staring at the fog bank on the screen, Natsuko's mind drifts to images of Yamato and Hiroaki superimposed against the fog. Then Takeru snaps her out of it.

Takeru: Let me go! Natsuko: ...okay, we'll go together.

They're going to have a hard time getting into Odaiba, but Natsuko agrees to go look for Yamato and Hiroaki.

In the dub, they use Takeru's point about Yamato and Hiroaki as a silence-breaker, in place of Natsuko thinking about them herself after he says it.

Reporter: An impenetrable fog has sealed off the main district of the city. Incoming reports also verify that all communication systems appear to have been rendered useless. T.K.: (drops breakfast and stands up) I'm coming, Matt. Nancy: T.K.! T.K.: I have to go! You don't understand; Whatever happens, they'll need me there. Nancy: Mm-mm. T.K.: Aww, mom! (superimposed images) Matt is there! And so is Dad! We can't just leave them! Nancy: Oh... Alright, then. We'll go together. Get your coat, son. T.K.: Yeah!

I feel like, as a parent, she should be scrutinizing the line "Whatever happens, they'll need me there," a bit. That's a weird thing for her kid to say about a mysterious weather phenomenon.

Takeru can come off like a scared kid who's just determined to help his brother and dad, but T.K. said a weird thing and Nancy should be questioning it.

Meanwhile, Hiroaki bursts into Yamato's room. His clothes are ripped and ragged and he's shoveling food into his mouth from a bowl while using his foot to nudge his son awake.

Hiroaki: Yamato! Wake up! Yamato: D-Dad? What happened to you!? Hiroaki: I'll tell you later! Hurry up and get dressed!

No change in the dub.

We next move to Shimbashi Station, pinpointing Jou's location. The sun has set and come back up, and still Jou hasn't made it home.

Jou knocks back an energy drink before getting up and starting to walk.

Gomamon: Jooooou... Where are we going!? Jou: Hinode Pier. Maybe the boats are still working.

That's a good idea. For reference on the map, the Red Marker is Shimbashi Station, where Jou is now. The green circle is his destination, Hinode. It's not too far; About a mile's walk. The black circle, as usual is Daiba Park, with Odaiba to the south and east of it.

The dub cuts Jou's energy drink. Poor Joe; He has to deal with fatigue the old-fashioned way. It also takes off the specific location reference, but keeps the main point.

Gomamon: Joe, where are you going? Joe: Down to the pier. Maybe we can get in by boat.

Meanwhile, in Odaiba, Yagami Susumu (Taichi's dad) is at the train station trying to commute to work. A clock shows the time as 6:02.

Announcement: Due to an unknown incident, train service has been suspended. Susumu: What the...?

Before he can even think about that, the station is filled with the sound of screams. Phantomon enters, flanked by four Bakemon.

Phantomon is a Perfect-stage Virus-type Ghost DIgimon. You might think they're the evolved form of Bakemon. That'd be the natural conclusion to make. Weirdly, no. Though Phantomon is a Nightmare Soldier, they do not evolve naturally from any Digimon and exclusively require Jogress, like Pumpmon.

Bakemon's natural evolution is Vamdemon.

Susumu: W-WHAT ARE THOSE!?!? Narrator: Phantomon. A Perfect-Stage Ghost Digimon whose giant scythe with chains is his trademark. His special attack is-- Phantomon: SOUL CHOPPER!!!

Before the narrator can even finish the rundown, Phantomon cuts him off to attack the ceiling display. Presumably to get everyone's attention.

Phantomon: By order of Vamdemon-sama, you are all coming with us!

Yeah, this quiet conflict has been getting steadily less quiet with each "mysterious kaiju battle" but now it's gone loud. With the revelation that the Eighth Child has been found and not by him, Vamdemon is not playing anymore. This is an invasion. You are all under attack.

The dub seems to get a little confused here.

Announcement: An announcement will be made when service has been restored. We apologize for any inconvenience. Susumu: Poor kids... (Screams and ghostly wailing) Susumu: Huh? WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT THING!?!? Phantomon: (rundown) I'm Phantomon. You don't want to be near me or my frightening little friends when I start to swing my... Phantomon: SHADOW SCYTHE!!! (Phantomon cuts down the display) Phantomon: Myotismon requests your presence and he won't take no for an answer.

Susumu's line, "Poor kids...." seems disconnected from anything that's happening. The only explanation I can come up with is that maybe they think he's in Shimbashi Station, watching Joe leave dejected?

I can see why they might think that. We cut from outside a train station to inside a train station so logic follows that it's the same train station. That is such an easy mistake to make, if that's what happened here.

But it's not; Susumu is in Odaiba trying to go to work. Vamdemon's forces are not rounding people up on the outside of the fog bank.

Morning comes to the Takenouchi residence. Piyomon seems to have recovered from her Pyokomon cooldown.

Piyomon: Where are you going so early in the morning? Sora: Soccer club's morning practice. I'd like to talk to Taichi about what we should do, as well. I'll be back by breakfast, so keep quiet, okay?

On her way out, Sora says farewell to her mother, who's chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

Sora: I'm off! Toshiko: (unenthused) So long. (thinking) Again with soccer....

Toshiko's still not about Sora's hobby.

In the dub:

Biyomon: Are you really going to soccer practice today? Sora: Tai will be there, and I really need to talk to him about our plan of attack. Besides, I could use the practice. (Sora heads out) Sora: MOOOOM!!! I'm going to soccer! Toshiko: ... Sora: Mom? Toshiko: ... Sora: Well, I'll see you in a little bit. Toshiko: ...

Toshiko gives Sora the complete cold shoulder. Fucking harsh. Continuing the trend of dub Toshiko being meaner than original, who at least gave Sora a courtesy goodbye.

A minor note, but Toshiko's activity changes between versions. She's chopping vegetables in the original but washing dishes in the dub. We see her doing something at a kitchen counter, and the sound effects fill in the blanks.

At this point, I'm fairly convinced that they would give the editors a silent copy of the animation and everybody's voice recordings, and the editors just had to cut it together with whatever sounds looked right for the scene. There's a lot of these little effects changes or outright missed sound effects throughout the series.

Meanwhile, at the Yagami home, Taichi and Hikari are trying to call around like promised. Unbeknownst to them, an army of bakemono, of wicked spirits impersonating a human guise, have invaded Odaiba and are moving from home to home.

Taichi: (at the phone with Hikari) This is weird.... Yuuko: Taichi, don't you have morning practice? Taichi: This isn't the time for that! Yuuko: Oh, is that so...?

At once, in synchronized motions, the bakemono ring many doorbells.

Yuuko: (teasing) Look, your teammates came looking for you.

Yuuko prances off to go get the door, leaving Taichi and Hikari with the malfunctioning phone.

Yuuko: Yes, yes, hello there-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The clearly inhuman bakemono pushes Yuuko down, then drops its guise and reveals itself to be a swarm of Bakemon. Three Bakemon swarm into the house. Agumon throws open the bedroom door, firing back at them with a Baby Flame to protect Taichi and Hikari.

Taichi & Hikari: (relieved) AGUMON!!! Yuuko: TAICHI!!! HIKARI!!! AHHHHHHHH!!! Taichi & Hikari: MOM!!!!

Three Bakemon carry Yuuko away while more flood into the apartment.

In the dub:

Tai: Oh, great. The phone's still out. Yuuko: Oh, your poor father. I hope he's not stuck in the subway. Tai: We're not watching that video again! Yuuko: The TV's still out, sweetie.

This is a little confusing but the "video" Tai's referring to are grainy shots of the bakemono moving into position and ringing the doorbells. The dub implies that the Kamiya family are watching this happen as a movie while it is also happening in real life?

I think the grainy horror movie effects on the bakemono shots might have thrown the dub team.

(Doorbell) Yuuko: I wonder who'd be dropping by unannounced? (Yuuko gets up to go answer) Yuuko: Coming! Hello? ... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Bakemon attack; Agumon fends them off) Tai & Kari: AGUMON!!! Yuuko: TAI!!! KARI!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

The original version of this scene flows better, because Yuuko riffing Taichi about skipping soccer practice connects directly with Sora's preceding scene. Though the dub version does try to connect to a previous scene as well, through Yuuko fretting over Susumu.

After commercial, we go to a few more homes under bakemono assault.

Keeping Palmon under a blanket, Mimi and her parents find refuge in an elevator.

Keisuke: It's okay now. Satoe: What were those things!? Mimi: Mama, I can explain--

Before Mimi can explain, the elevator arrives at its destination and opens to about a million Bakemon. The Tachikawa family screams in unison and we cut away.

In the dub, Keisuke takes charge with a silence-breaker.

Keisuke: Run! This way! Hurry! (Family enters the elevator) Keisuke: Alright, we're all safe now. Satoe: Yeah, but honey, what are they!? Mimi: It's a long story, Mom! (Ground floor, Bakemon central)

Mimi doesn't even try to bring them up to speed this time.

Cut to the Takenouchi home. We arrive in time to see several Bakemon blasted out the door by a beam of Magical Fire. Toshiko is about having a heart attack.

Toshiko: Y-You... You're not a stuffed toy!? Piyomon: (fiercely) Where does soccer club hold their morning practice? Toshiko: (shaking with terror) In the elementary school's schoolyard.... Piyomon: I have to hurry. Sora's in danger!

When Piyomon says that, Toshiko suddenly stops shaking. All of her fear evaporates in an instant.

In the dub:

Toshiko: You just talked! I saw you! I thought you were a stuffed animal! Biyomon: Well, life's full of surprises! Where's the soccer field? Toshiko: It's down at the school! Why do you ask? Biyomon: All you need to know is: Sora's in trouble! I've got to find her!

She did a little more than talk, Toshiko. She blew a bunch of ghosts away with a spiraling death beam. XD

The Bakemon gather the people of Odaiba together at the Big Sight convention center. Vamdemon instructs PicoDevimon on where to go from here.

Vamdemon: Separate the adults from the children and have each of the children meet Tailmon. We'll go through them all in sequence. PicoDevimon: Why overcomplicate it? Killing them all would be much quicker. Vamdemon: That doesn't suit my aesthetic. But.... (Tailmon is raised by a crane behind him) Vamdemon: You understand, of course? If you play dumb, they will all die for it.

Vamdemon doesn't have a good answer for PicoDevimon but honestly, Vamdemon's right. If you kill all of the kids without ever confirming that the Eighth Child is among them, then how can you really know for sure that you got them? What if they weren't here after all? What if they got away?

If you didn't get them, then you won't even know that this isn't over.

And even if you did, you won't have the certainty of it.

Set the haystack on fire without finding the needle and you'll never really know. You'll never have peace of mind again.

All this talk of mass slaughter's a bit too dark for the dub, of course.

Myotismon: We'll start by separating the children from their parents. Ah, how they'll scream and weep! Delicious!

The next two lines between DemiDevimon and Myotismon while they fly in are cut, replaced by various Bakemon going "Gyarkle snargle blark". Miscellaneous monster noises in place of tactical discussion.

Then, as Gatomon's being raised on the crane, she addresses Myotismon.

Gatomon: I guess you're not as powerful here in the real world as you thought you were! Myotismon: Power isn't anything I'd concern myself with if I were you, especially since you don't have any! You little traitor!

She's awfully uppity for someone who's hanging limp from a crane while Myotismon is holding all the cards and there's no sign of impending rescue. I don't know what about this situation could possibly make her think this is an appropriate context for an "Aha, see how weak you are!?" type Gotcha.

Cut to Yamato, Gabumon and Hiroaki hiding out on a scaffolding. Evidently Hiroaki's "GET THE FUCK UP AND COME WITH ME" moment earlier was him successfully getting his son clear of the impending bakemono assault. Good for him.

We've also skipped the recap on Yamato's part, it seems.

Yamato: Tell me what's happening! Hiroaki: I don't know either! But in the meantime, both of you stay safe here. Yamato: What about you, Dad?

Through the construction beams of this little hidey-hole they're in, the FCG Building can be seen right across the way.

Hiraoki: I'm going to the station. I need to contact the outside world and tell them what's happening here. Gabumon-kun, is it? Protect Yamato for me. (Hiroaki starts walking away) Gabumon: Yes, sir. Yamato: Be careful! Hiroaki: Yup. (Hiroaki leaves) Gabumon: Are we sure about this, Yamato? Yamato: We have to trust my dad.

Gabumon's iffy about letting Hiraoki go out there alone, but Yamato has faith in the man.

(I don't. What happened to the rest of his crew? Did they get eaten by Gizamon?)

In the dub:

Matt: Now, will you tell me what happened, Dad? Hiroaki: I hardly know, myself. But I want you to stay here out of sight. Matt: Where are you going? Hiroaki: The station. To try to find some way to communicate with the outside world! Smoke signals! Anything! You'll be safe here; Stay with Gabumon. (Hiroaki starts walking away) Gabumon: How do you know about me!? Matt: But Dad... HOW!? Hiroaki: Never mind how! Just be safe! (Hiroaki leaves) Gabumon: You know, I think he likes me.

According to the dub, Matt has said nothing to Hiroaki about the Digimon and just dragged Gabumon's limp, heavy frame over here. Nonetheless, Hiroaki is so well-informed that he actually knows all about Gabumon already. Uh. Somehow.

In the dub's defense, we did skip Yamato recapping things for Hiroaki and that is a little confusing. The giveaway that Hiroaki has very recently learned about Gabumon for the first time is when he addresses him as "Gabumon-kun ka."

Using か ka to end a sentence recontextualizes the preceding sentence as a question. It's basically the Japanese question mark. Hiroaki is saying Gabumon's name as a question, as if he's unsure about it.

This is implicitly something they already had to talk about on the way here, and Hiroaki only kind of gets it. But it's still pretty vague and rushed-through, and as a result the dub winds up making a grand mystery out of it. We're never going to find out why Hiroaki has known about Digimon all this time, because he hasn't.

Meanwhile, at the Yagami family's apartment complex, Taichi has a plan to save Yuuko.

It is exactly what you'd expect of a Taichi plan, and it does not go well.

Yuuko panics when she sees Greymon explode out of the apartment complex. Presumably the neighbors' bad days also just got worse because that did a lot more damage than just taking out one apartment.

In fact, the Yagami apartment is about two or three floors down from the top of a thirteen-story complex. They made sure to go down to first or second floor before doing this. So none of the apartments they just cratered are theirs. XD

In any case, Yuuko quite reasonably flips the fuck out when Godzilla joins today's festivities.

Yuuko: A DINOSAUR!?!? NO!!!

As Greymon turns, Taichi and Hikari are on his left shoulder.

Taichi: This isn't what it looks like, Mom! Greymon, save Mom! Yuuko: NO!!! MY CHILDREN!!!

Greymon stomps over towards Yuuko, but he's suddenly cut down by a sharp slash to his arm, spraying black blood everywhere. His assailant, Phantomon, leaves it at that.

Phantomon: It's useless to resist. (thrusts his scythe to indicate direction) Now! Take them all to Vamdemon-sama!

The Bakemon force-march their captives in the direction Phantomon indicated. Yuuko desperately tries to push through the crowd

Yuuko: TAICHI!!! HIKARI!!! Greymon: MEGA FLAME!!!

Greymon suddenly lobs a sucker punch at Phantomon from his spot on the ground. Phantomon teleports before it can hit him, causing Greymon's shot to "harmlessly" blow off another chunk of the complex. But it buys them a second to act.

Greymon: I'm sorry, Taichi. I promise to save your Mom later! Right now, we have to run!

Given that it's been less than twelve hours since we tried MetalGreymon and only got one shot out of him, Greymon's probably right. We aren't in good shape to throw down with Phantomon. Greymon bails, leaving poor Yuuko down there not understanding a thing she's seeing.

Taichi & Hikari: MOM!!! Yuuko: SOMEBODY HELP!!! MY CHILDREN!!!

Right now is a bad time to be a parent in Odaiba.

In the dub:

(Greymon explodes from the building) Yuuko: Oh no! Another monster! Tai: Don't worry! This monster's on our side! Get my Mom, Greymon. Hurry! Phantomon: SHADOW SCYTHE!!! (Greymon falls to the ground, bleeding) Phantomon: Well, Greymon, it looks like your time is up. (thrusts his scythe to indicate direction) Get the rest of the crowd! Yuuko: NO!!! STOP!!! Greymon: NOVA BLAST!!! (Greymon chases off Phantomon with a sneak attack) Greymon: Sorry, Tai, I'm losing it... We'll get your Mom later... Right now, we've got to get out of here! (Greymon books it) Kari: MOMMY!!! Tai: MOM, WE'LL BE BACK!!! Yuuko: KARI!!! TAI!!!

Gotta say, I love Phantomon's dub voice. In the original, he's a high-pitched fast-talking goober. The dub plays him for ~woo spoo~ooky ghost but with a hint of menace and edge in it that really works.

Very minor quibbles: "A DINOSAUR!?!?" was a funnier reaction than "Oh no, another monster!" Also, Phantomon doesn't call his attack in the original; Greymon suddenly stopping and spewing blood comes as a total unexpected shock.

Over at the soccer field Taichi was supposed to be at, Piyomon and Toshiko have a great plan foiled by a timing.

Pulling back the hoods on their makeshift Bakemon disguises, Piyomon and Toshiko look across an empty soccer field already pilfered by bakemono assailants.

Piyomon: We were too late.... Toshiko: (fearful) Sora....

The dub seems to think there's a trail here.

Toshiko: We'll follow them and find out where they've taken her! Biyomon: But will it work? Toshiko: ...we'll see....

It's not clear who they intend to follow, since the Bakemon are already long gone and they're standing alone in an open field. Maybe they plan on finding some other Bakemon at work elsewhere in Odaiba and following those ones.

In any case, they will be at Big Sight next we see them, so this dialogue serves as a gap-bridging purpose to explain how they get there.

Following their train of thought, we find Sora among the crowd at Big Sight. Mimi creeps up on her from behind.

Mimi: (grabbing Sora's shoulders) Sora-san! Sora: Ah! (Mimi sits next to Sora) Sora: They caught you too, Mimi-chan? Palmon: (peeks out from under the blanket) Want me to evolve?

Sora takes a quick look around the shopping center.

Sora: The enemy is all around us. Let's lay low for right now. Palmon: Got it.

The girls have an ace up their sleeve. They just need to pick their moment.

In the dub:

Mimi: (grabbing Sora's shoulders) Sora? It's you! (Mimi sits next to Sora) Sora: Oh no, Mimi! They got you too? Palmon: (peeks out from under the blanket) Psst! I can Digivolve any time. Just say the word! Sora: (looking around as she speaks) There's too many people and too many of them. (finishes) Let's see how this plays out. You'll be our trump card for later. Palmon: Got it.

Differently phrased but same ideas.

Sora takes a look around the station and finds Yuuko with Susumu. Yuuko is weeping inconsolably.

Yuuko: The children... THE CHILDREN.... Susumu: Calm down! Yuuko: I CAN'T!!! That orange dinosaur must have eaten them by now....

Sora approaches Yuuko to offer what she knows.

Sora: Please don't worry. Yuuko: Sora-chan? Sora: The dinosaur is with us. He's going to come here with the other good Digimon and save us.

I'm glad someone was here to explain this to Yuuko. Can you imagine?

In the dub:

Yuuko: I can't stand it! I can't stand not knowing! Susumu: Calm down, dear.... Yuuko: How can I calm down!? For all we know, that monster's devoured the children by now! (Sora approaches) Sora: Don't worry; He's one of ours. Susumu & Yuuko: Huh!? Sora: There's a lot more where he came from. We've got some powerful friends. Besides, we've got truth and justice and all that good stuff on our side!

Susumu comes off as a dick in both versions. Japanese Susumu tries to get Yuuko to stop crying by barking it at her as an order. Kinda harkens back to his drunken "WHERE MY CHILDREN AT!?!?" midnight antics from the OVA. Susumu's in that grey area where he's not abusive but he still kinda sucks.

Meanwhile, dub Susumu has this whiny sound to his voice like "Ugggggh I can't believe she's doing this right now...." He's passive-aggressive instead of aggro-aggressive but still comes off as unsupportive.

Hey, Susumu? Your children have been eaten by Godzilla. You could stand to care a little about that.

Without the context of what she's talking about, Sora sounds a little deranged in both versions. But original Sora is concise and to the point about her wild rambling, while Dub Sora wanders wildly off-topic and starts ranting about superhero themes.

In her defense, she's 11. Static Shock took a lot of cues from Batman comics early in his career, before he was retconned into the DC Animated Universe proper and met Actual Batman.

The actual problem with the dub version is that Yuuko provides zero contextual information that Sora could possibly use to realize she's talking about Greymon. Sora has to conclusion-jump to her role in this scene based solely on the description, "that monster".

Dressed in their Bakemon disguises Toshiko and Piyomon arrive at Big Sight.

(You know, there's something deliciously ironic about a human masquerading as a fake bakemono. Turnabout is fair play, assholes.)

Toshiko: Where could Sora be? Piyomon: Let's have a look inside. Toshiko: Yeah. ...um, Piyo-san, this might be a strange question but has Sora ever said that she hated me? Piyomon: Never! In fact, what she said was this.

Piyomon flashes back on Garudamon's debut episode, just after they escaped Vamdemon.

Sora: I was acting just like my Mom. Pyokomon: Sora.... Sora: That's when I realized my Mom loved me all along. Pyokomon: Ehehe! I felt it too! I felt your love! Sora: Hehe, I'm sorry about that. (Return to Present) Toshiko: (taking off her hood so we can see her smiling fondly) That girl....

Aww, now Toshiko's up to speed on Sora's character development.

In the dub:

Biyomon: Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Toshiko: Now let's go inside and find Sora! Biyomon: Right! Toshiko: Wait. This may be a strange question but, did Sora ever say... Did she tell you... Does Sora hate me? Biyomon: What!? Oh boy, do you have it wrong! (Flashback) Sora: Then I realized I was worried about you just the way my mother worries about me, and now I know for sure. My mom loved me all along. Yokomon: And it was your love that helped me Digivolve, Sora! Sora: I'm glad! (Return to Present) Toshiko: (taking off her hood so we can see her smiling fondly) Sora....

The start of this version flows awkwardly. They have Toshiko be the one to say we should go look inside, and then Toshiko interrupts Toshiko's plan to ask her question.

Also, I don't think Biyomon knows what that phrase means. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" would have been a great line the first time we saw the Bakemon disguises. However, for the second scene that they're disguised in, it comes out of nowhere.

Inside Big Sight, the parents and two Chosen Children make plans. By which I mean, Susumu is trying to get himself killed in a fit of machismo.

In addition to the Yagami and Tachikawa parents, Hiroaki's crew have joined the party.

Susumu: Understood? The men will take down the guards. While we're keeping them busy, you take the women and children and you run. Yuki: Understood!

Susumu's plan of attack is "We'll get 'em with our masculinity!" This is why women live longer. That said, I see where Taichi gets it.

Suddenly, a big green mascot pats Yuki on the shoulder.

Chioka: Eh? Susumu: Do you want to help too? Mascots: (silently nod) Satoe: (standing up) Excuse me.... Susumu: What is it? Satoe: Please don't make my husband participate in such a dangerous plan! Keisuke: Huh? Hey, now-- Satoe: (to Keisuke) Not now, Sweetheart. (to the group) There are plenty of men here, so my husband doesn't have to join in, right? Susumu: Uh, ma'am, that-- Satoe: (bawling) HE'LL DIE!!! IF MY HUSBAND DIES, I'LL FOLLOW HIM IN DEATH!!! Susumu: Uhhhhh okay, okay, I understand! Well then, Tachikawa-san, you escort the women outside. Satoe: (stops crying INSTANTLY and embraces Keisuke) Isn't that great, Sweetheart!?

I also see where Mimi gets it. Tachikawa Satoe is Life Goals. She just made Yagami Susumu back the fuck off. This woman is pink as fuck and stone cold.

The dub cuts out Susumu and Yuki's initial lines, opening this scene on the mascots joining the conversation. It also gives them dialogue.

Yuki: How could it be worse? Mascot: You could work for minimum-wage in a foam rubber suit with kids kicking you all the time. Right guys? Mascots: (nod) Right! Satoe: (standing up) Ahem. Mimi: What is it, Mom? Satoe: I just can't stay in this place one second longer! Keisuke: Well, you've been wanting to get away; Look at this as a vacation. Satoe: (to Keisuke) WHO ASKED YOU TO TALK!?!? (to the group) I'm sorry, children, I didn't mean to yell. It's just that I'm not used to being held captive by creatures from another world. Chioka: Don't worry, lady; You'll get used to it. Satoe: (bawling) But I don't wanna get used to it! I wanna go home and sleep in my own bed! I wanna live life to the fullest! I wanna clean lint out of my dryer! I wanna pick up after my doggy! I wanna know what's happening on my soap operas! Wahhhhhh! Satoe: (stops crying INSTANTLY and embraces Keisuke) I'm so glad I got that off my chest.

This whole exchange sucks. They cut Susumu's entire ill-conceived plan of attack and replaced it with the mascots whining about their jobs. Uh. Nice filler dialogue but we were talking about something important.

This also means that Satoe sticking it to Susumu to defend her husband's safety gets cut. Instead, she just whines for ten seconds straight then abruptly stops for no reason. Where the original was a nice "Like mother, like daughter" moment, here we see "Like daughter, like mother"; the dub screws Mimi like this a lot too.

Keisuke and Chioka's lines are pretty bullshit too. "Think of being kidnapped by Thriller like it's a vacation?" "You'll get used to being abducted by monsters?" What the hell are these men on about?

Before the attack begins, Sora notices that Sakurada has been hugging his radio and listening to a tape through this entire conversation.

Sora: What is he listening to? Yuki: Sakurada-kun? When he gets stressed out, he listens to sutras. Sora: Sutras?

Sora flashes back on what she learned from her Jou-senpai back on File Island.

Jou: To counter ghosts, you have to chant a sutra and pray for God's grace! Sora: Chant what!? Jou: By chanting the sutra, Bakemon-sama will lose his power!

Back in the present, Susumu is raring to go.

Yuuko: Honey.... Susumu: It'll be fine. Now, let's go, everyone!

The men suddenly attack the Bakemon crowd. Susumu, Chioka, Sakurada, and the mascots all grab metal bars and start swinging at any ghosts they see.

(Credit where it's due, getting them with raw masculinity seems to be working.)

Yuki: EVERYONE, STAY WITH ME!!!

Unfortunately, all of Susumu's ghost-punching doesn't amount to shit once the crowd is past him. More Bakemon descend on the fleeing Odaiba citizens from the front.

Sora: Listen to this!

Sora turns on Sakurada's stereo at full volume, blasting the Bakemon with Buddhist sutras. They fall helpless to the ground.

Sora: Now! Hurry! Hurry!

The crowd of hostages escapes Big Sight into the daylight! Well, what daylight can pass through the fog bank, anyway.

In the dub, since we didn't use the planning scene to plan, Sora abruptly decides we should come up with a plan.

Sora: Enough of this! We need a plan! Yuki: Yeah, Jeremiah! Why don't you help us instead of listening to those mind-over-matter tapes all the time? Sora: What'd you say? (flashback) Joe: The only way to weaken Bakemon is with mind over matter. Sora: Huh!? Mind over what!? Joe: It's an old Roman technique. You repeat a phrase over and over again and it helps you focus your mind. (Return to Present) Sora: That's it! We need some of you to attack the Bakemon, creating a diversion while the rest of us come up with a Mind Over Matter chant! Yuuko: What's that mean? Susumu: Just do what she says, alright?

Having to remove the religious elements of the Bakemon episode now has a knock-on effect that makes this scene absolutely ridiculous. Sora's plan is rooted in absolutely nothing but a bunch of nonsense Joe said to her one time that inexplicably worked.

Made even funnier because of the way they butchered the previous scene. Like. All of these adults were ready to sit here and wait to die until Sora said we should give the Bakemon a self-help seminar. And now they're like, "FUCK YES. I pledge my sword to the inane ramblings of this preteen." XD

So the assault begins.

Susumu: Half of you come with me! LET'S GET 'EM!!! (Charge!) Yuki: Women and children, follow me! (Bakemon attack the crowd) Sora: PUMP UP THE VOLUME!!! (Sora holds up the radio) Crowd: BAKEMON LOSE YOUR POWER!!! BAKEMON LOSE YOUR POWER!!! (The Bakemon fall to the ground and the crowd escapes)

The curse of the Mind Over Matter chant continues to plague this scene. Sora said we need to come up with something but then they just reuse Joe's. I guess they got impatient.

More glaringly, the plan is for the crowd to chant something. When Sora holds up the radio, nothing comes out of it. They have no recording saying "Bakemon lose your power". How would they? It's the crowd that all chants the words at once.

So. Like. Why did she take Jeremiah's radio away from him and then brandish it at the Bakemon if it has no bearing on this fight?

Escaping into the foggy daylight, Satoe cheers.

Satoe: Yay! We made it outside!

Whoops, too early for jubilation. We have a third new Digimon to analyze this episode.

DarkTyranomon is an Adult-stage Virus-type Dinosaur Digimon. They're from the Pagumon evolution tree like Gizamon, but are not available for Gizamon to evolve into. They're basically peak evolution for their tree's Adult-stage; A well cared for Pagumon will become Gazimon, and a Gazimon that's well cared for and supremely well trained will become DarkTyranomon.

Satoe: There's another one! Narrator: DarkTyranomon. A ferocious Digimon whose heart and body were infected by a computer virus. His special attack is Fire Blast.

While everyone panics, Keisuke gently pushes Satoe off of him with a fierce look on his face. He runs off into the crowd.

Satoe: Where are you going!?

Jumping into a nearby motor scooter, he scoots into action to avenge his earlier emasculation.

Keisuke: I am... A MAAAAAAAAAAN--

DarkTyranmon's gigantic claw slaps the scooter and sends Keisuke flying ineffectually through the air to his doom. This is why women live longer.

In the dub:

Satoe: We made it! We're safe at last! DarkTyranomon: (exists) Satoe: Oops, spoke too soon. Palmon: (rundown) It's DarkTyranomon! He was actually a nice guy once until he was taken over by an evil computer virus and his personality did a 180. (Keisuke suddenly separates from Satoe and runs into the crowd) Satoe: Huh? Where are you going? Keisuke: (scooter) YOU COULDN'T BE IN SAFER HAAAAAAANDS-- (Swipe)

A lot of the comedy of this scene didn't make it through. Satoe's reaction to DarkTyranomon is too reserved. Since we lost Keisuke's emasculation in the earlier butchered scene, we also lose the punchline to it here; He suddenly makes shockingly bad choices for no reason and it's not half as funny.

That said, Palmon's diegetic rundown covers all the pertinent information and is good.

Watching Keisuke fly through the air, Mimi has feelings. That she punches DarkTyranomon in the face with.

Mimi: PAPAAAAAAAAA!!!

Palmon rushes through one of the fastest evolution stock animations we've ever had to preserve the momentum, then uppercuts DarkTyranomon to the ground. Our ace in the hole has now officially been launched.

While Togemon's keeping DarkTyranomon busy, the Tachikawa women hurry to Keisuke's side.

Satoe: Are you okay, Honey? Keisuke: I am, but I made a fool of myself. Satoe: No, that's not true. You were very cool out there! Keisuke: Really? Satoe: Really! (hugs Keisuke) Keisuke: REALLY!? Satoe: REALLY!!!

While Gomez and Morticia are enjoying each other's company, Togemon and DarkTyranomon are still having it out. DarkTyranomon has hoisted Togemon up into his claws, giving her a great vantage from which to juggle punches into his face.

Mimi: Hey, this isn't the time for that! Keisuke: Once in a while doesn't hurt. Satoe: Yeah! Mimi: But you're always like this!

Mimi's parents wear their hearts on their sleeves. Again, it's easy to see where she gets it from.

In the dub, Togemon gets to quip as she comes out.

Mimi: DAAAAAAAD!!! (Palmon evolves and Togemon uppercuts DarkTyranomon) Togemon: Back to the Stone Age with you! Mimi: Dad! Daaaad! (The Tachikawa women run to Keisuke) Satoe: Honeybunch, are you okay? Keisuke: Ugh... I guess I made a fool of myself, huh? Satoe: Mm-mm. Don't be ridiculous. That was the bravest thing I ever saw! Keisuke: Really? Satoe: Really. (hugs Keisuke) Keisuke: You mean it!? Satoe: I mean it! Keisuke: Oh, honey.... (Fight raging) Mimi: Uh, Mom? Dad? I hate to ruin this love fest but maybe we should run for cover or something!

Dub Mimi is a lot more supportive of her parents' mushy PDAs, which means we lose a funny gag and a fun bit of characterization.

Unfortunately, the fight takes a turn while the Tachikawa parents are having their moment.

DarkTyranomon throws Togemon down on her back, then follows up with their Fire Blast.

Mimi: Ganbatte, Togemon! Togemon: (pained) ...I'm trying to ganbatte....

As a reminder, ganbatte is the Japanese cultural construct of perseverance in the face of tremendous hardship, using hard work and dedication to pull through and overcome the impossible.

While Togemon's struggling, the Bakemon regroup. They chase the crowd back inside the convention center. Sora runs around blasting the sutra with Sakurada's radio, but there's only so much she can do.

Mimi: Why? Why!? Why are they doing this to us!?

We see Susumu's group inside, still fighting it out with the Bakemon. Back out here, the regrouped Bakemon swarm towards Mimi's parents.

Mimi: (tears in her eyes) I can't let this... I WON'T LET ALL OF THESE DIGIMON DO THIS!!!

The dub puts a commercial break on Togemon getting Fire Blasted, which is a pretty good pick for a commercial cliffhanger. Then we return on Mimi inexplicably telling Togemon to abandon everyone.

Mimi: It's no use! Save yourself! Togemon: (pained) I got it under control, no problem.... (Bakemon regroup) Mimi: Oh, this is the end. It's over. Myotismon will rule the world. (Bakemon swarm towards Mimi's parents) Mimi: (tears in her eyes) This is terrible! Now my family's going to suffer and so are my friends! There's got to be something I can do!

The dub doesn't play Mimi's meltdown half as hard as original Mimi's. Mimi has never wanted to be a part of that world, and now all the hardship and trauma has followed her home. She's never understood why this has to be her life.

Here, it's basically a tantrum that actualizes her power. Not unlike the one from that destroyed Devimon's Black Gear. Not unlike the one her mother just used to vanquish Susumu. The Tachikawa women channel incredible power when they let their feelings run wild.

Mimi doesn't want to have to fight these Digimon conflicts. She just wants it to stop. So her feelings erupt and she claims the power that will make it stop. Mimi fights so that she won't have to fight again.

Dub Mimi falls into despair because the bad guys are winning. Then she quietly decides to try and help, and somehow that's sufficient to light her Crest. It lacks both the emotional power and the resonance with her storyline to this point.

Mimi's overwhelming feelings cause her Crest to ignite. Togemon CHOU-SHINKAAAAAA!!!

Let's have a warm round of applause for the best evolved form of an Adventure 01 Digimon, Lilimon!

Mimi: Togemon evolved? Lilimon: FLOWER CANNON!!!

Lilimon announces herself by pelting DarkTyranomon in the chest with her Flower Cannon, and we go into her rundown.

Lilimon is a Perfect-stage Data-type Fairy Digimon. She would not release as a V-Pet until several months after this episode aired, when she became part of the 0.5 rerelease for Wind Guardians - Replacing Blossomon as Togemon's Perfect evolution.

Mimi: Lilimon? Lilimon: Hi! Mimi! Narrator: A Perfect-stage Fairy Digimon who flies through the sky using the four wings on her back. That is Lilimon! Her special attack is Flower Cannon.

Between letting Phantomon cut him off and now changing up the typical rundown format so he can respond directly to Mimi, the narrator's rundowns have been pretty fun this episode.

Lilimon: (teasing) Am I in bad taste? Mimi: Not at all. You're so pretty! And cute! Lilimon: Thank you!

Once the rundown's finished, Lilimon immediately pays off the "bad taste" bit from earlier and makes Mimi eat her words. As she should because Lilimon Best Evolution.

The dub calls her "Lillymon", not only changing out the second I for a Y to shore it up into English but then promptly misspelling the word "lily" with a second L. Um.

Mimi: Where'd she come from!? Lillymon: FLOWER CANNON!!! (Lillymon blasts DarkTyranomon) Mimi: Whoa! Who are you!? Lillymon: It's just li'l ol' me! Lillymon: (rundown) Or should I say "little old us"? I'm Palmon and Togemon too! This is just my fully Digivolved form. You can call me Lillymon! Lillymon: Am I in bad taste? Mimi: No way. I'm sorry I ever said that. Lillymon: No biggie!

Dub Mimi apologizes for the objectionable comment, while original Mimi gushes over how cool Lilimon is. Both are valid ways to play this scene. It does make Dub Mimi come across as a little more mature than Original Mimi, but it wouldn't be the first time.

Though I'm not a fan of how 2/3 of the dub exchange including the rundown have to be spent explaining how Digivolution works to Mimi. Really? We're how many episodes into this?

DarkTyranomon tries to take a swipe at Lilimon from behind, but she's too nimble and easily dodges it.

Lilimon: Ehehe! Try and catch me if you can! Mimi: Be careful! Lilimon: Hey, Mimi! Your tears of purity helped me evolve. I want to cherish that heart of yours. That's why.... Mimi: What are you going to do? Lilimon: Watch this! HANA NO KUBIKAZARI!!!

Though her Flower Cannon is spoken in English, her second attack Hana no Kubikazari is in Japanese. It translates to "Flower Necklace". Lilimon zips around DarkTyranomon's neck, creating a ring of flowers that pacifies them.

Lilimon: I've removed the evil virus from them using my flower power. They're not our enemy anymore. (pets DarkTyranomon) Good boy. Mimi: SO COOL!!!

Lilimon can produce flowers that unfuck viruses. There is so much we could do with that!

In the dub:

Lillymon: Whoopsy! You'll have to be quicker than that! Mimi: Be careful! Lillymon: Your wish to save your family and friends brought me into existence. Mimi, you're a very special girl even though your wardrobe sometimes clashes. Mimi: What do you mean? Lillymon: Later! Right now, I have a dinosaur to tame! (Lillymon creates the Flower Necklace but doesn't call the attack) Lillymon: My flower wreath counteracted the evil computer virus, so he ought to be as gentle as a lamb from now on. (pets DarkTyrannomon) Nice Tyrannomon. Thattaboy.

Lillymon's too busy quipping to queue up her decision to use the Flower Necklace, despite the fact that explaining said decision is the point of her heartfelt monologue. She chooses mercy for DarkTyranomon to reflect Mimi's disdain for all this violence and desire for a peaceful life.

Mimi fights so that she won't have to fight anymore. Respecting her values, Lilimon uses her powers to end this without having to fight.

Unfortunately. And very symbolically. Mimi cannot have the peace she desires.

Vamdemon: Are we having a tea ceremony? BLOODY STREAM!!!

Mocking the hyper-femininity of this sweet moment we're having, Vamdemon cuts in and executes DarkTyranomon. One lash of his attack is all it takes to make DarkTyranomon disintegrate into pixels. The only thing left behind is the Flower Necklace, which hangs in the air for just a moment before falling hopelessly to the ground.

Vamdemon has seen Mimi and Lilimon's mercy, and answered that there will be violence. There will be blood. Mercy is not an option so long as he's driving this war.

Lilimon: How could you do that!? Vamdemon: Hmph. All I did was rid myself of unnecessary rubbish. You're next. BLOODY STREAM!!!

Vamdemon lashes at Lilimon with his whip. She darts away, dancing around his attack and returning fire with Flower Cannon. The fight is back on.

From here, the dub starts putting scenes out-of-order again. This is the last scene in their version, so we're gonna come back to this when the dub gets here. For the original, we leave Mimi here for the episode to go check in on how everyone else is doing.

Jou has finally made it to Hinode, only to discover that the boats are shut down too. He's so distraught, he starts complaining about the education system.

Jou: The boats won't work either... How do I get through that fog? Gomamon: Jou, don't they teach you that in cram school? Jou: Of course not! Stuff like how to make a fire or how to wash dishes? You never learn that in a cram school! Gomamon: Then what do they teach you? Jou: Who cares about that? What matters right now is that fog.

In the dub:

Joe: I should have known. What made me think the boats would be running when nothing else is? Gomamon: It could be worse. We could be stuck in some crazy-- Joe: Please stop saying it could be worse. I have news for you, pal: It is worse! The whole world is stuck in turmoil and we're waiting for a ride into town! Gomamon: We might as well just give up right now. Joe: Well, I wouldn't go that far. After all, it could be worse. Myotismon: Ahahahahaha HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Joe: Huh!?

Jou's dissatisfaction with the education system is replaced by a funny exchange about the phrase "it could be worse". Which is then inexplicably interrupted by Myotismon laughing so hard he can be heard three miles away at Hinode Pier. DemiDevimon must have just told a hell of a good joke.

I think they just couldn't come up with a valid reason for Joe to suddenly look at the fog when Jou says "What matters right now is that fog."

Takeru and Natsuko are on a train heading in; They're still far enough out that they haven't been stopped yet.

Hiroaki is sneaking around the FCG Building, avoiding a patrolling Bakemon.

Hiroaki: (thinking) Maybe if I try the satellite broadcast... That might work.

In the dub:

Hiroaki: Maybe if I can just get to that satellite dish....

Taichi and Hikari run past the scaffolding where Yamato's hiding out with Gabumon. Taichi is carrying the exhausted Agumon on his back. He's also holding Hikari's hand so she doesn't fall behind.

Taichi: Are you okay? Agumon: Eh, sort of.... Yamato: TAICHI!!! Taichi: Huh? Yamato: Over here! Taichi: Yamato!?

Taichi joins Yamato inside the partially constructed building. The boys go talk things through while Hikari tends to Agumon's injured arm.

Hikari: Does it still hurt? Agumon: It's gotten a lot better. Yamato: WHAT DID YOU SAY!?!? Taichi: It's true! Hikari is the Eighth Child!

So now three of the eight Chosen Children know the truth about Hikari.

In the dub:

In the dub:

Tai: You okay, Agumon? Agumon: I've felt better. Matt: TAI!!! Tai: Huh!? Matt: UP HERE!!! Tai: Matt!? Is that you!? Hey, we gotta talk! (Cut to interior) Kari: You feel any better? Agumon: A lot better; Thanks, Kari. Matt: What!? You're kidding me! Tai: No, it's true! Kari is the Eighth Child!

I really like Tai's "We gotta talk!" here. Delivered with all the urgency of someone who has news that will blow Matt's mind. And he does!

Meanwhile, back inside Big Sight, Sora's plan has run its course. This little rebellion is over.

Phantomon destroys Sakurada's radio, disarming Sora of her only weapon.

Phantomon: Try chanting the Buddha's name this time so you can die a peaceful death!

Phantomon is referencing a Buddhist belief that dying with the Buddha on your mind will positively affect your dharma and allow you to reincarnate into a better form than you would otherwise. You don't have to do the chanting yourself; Others can chant it for you. The important thing is that the Buddha is the last thought on your mind when you pass.

Two eerily grounded Bakemon approach Sora, grabbing her by the arms.

Phantomon: Your life is mine! Bakemon?: Not so fast! Phantomon: What.

Toshiko and Piyomon shed their garments, with Piyomon evolving instantly. Birdramon rushes Phantomon and the Bakemon horde, buying Toshiko and Sora a moment to reunite.

Toshiko: (embracing Sora) Sora... (After a moment, they stand up) Sora: Mom... Toshiko: You have to escape, Sora. Sora: You come too!

More Bakemon reinforcements close in on them. Toshiko stands out in front of her daughter, barking at her.

Toshiko: HURRY UP AND GO!!! Sora: MOOOOOOM!!!

Toshiko and Sora may not be able to connect over their interests, but if there was ever any doubt that Toshiko loves her....

The original episode ends here on Sora's scream.

Over in the dub, Phantomon has the unenviable task of having to try and make a deadly threat out of a self-help mantra that wasn't even coming out of the radio to begin with.

Phantomon: Enough! That new-age psychobabble won't help you where you're going, my pretty little miss!

He almost succeeds but then he gets super weird in the last four words. He also then clarifies that this wasn't a veiled threat; He really is dialing the violence down and just intends to put Sora in captivity.

Phantomon: Seize her! Take her away! Bakemon?: Boo! Phantomon: ...what? (Biyomon Digivolves) Phantomon: Oh, it's just a bird. A large bird, I grant you. (Birdramon rushes them) Phantomon: A LARGE ANGRY BIRD AUUUUGH!!!

Though the "Boo!" line is weak, the silence-breakers added to Birdramon's attack are amazing. Gold star. XD

Toshiko: (embraces Sora) Sora.... Sora: Oh, Mom. I'm so.... Toshiko: There's no time now, Honey. You've got to get out of here! Hurry! Sora: But what about you? (Bakemon reinforcements arrive) Toshiko: GET MOVING!!! I'LL BE FINE!!! Sora: NO!!! MOTHER!!!

This lands almost as hard except for one confusing point. Was Sora about to apologize to Toshiko for this morning's drama? Apologize for what? Going to soccer practice?

Maybe she meant to apologize for being unfair to Toshiko over the knee injury way back when. There was blame to go around there. But in recent memory Sora hasn't done anything wrong.

I don't know. It's not bad or contradictory for Sora to have apologetic feelings towards her mom given their relationship as a whole. Just a little awkward that she's trying to apologize right now for something that has barely been touched on in this episode, in a scene she wasn't part of.

Finally, while the original ends here with Toshiko's sacrifice, the dub loops back around to end with Mimi and Lillymon facing off against Myotismon.

Mimi: We woooooooon! Myotismon: We'll see about that. Back to the Digital World with you! (DarkTyranomon dies returns to the Digital World safe and sound) Lillymon: You are such a bad sport! Myotismon: You meddlesome little flower child! It's time I plucked your petals! CRIMSON LIGHTNING!!!

They then cut the footage of Lilimon dodging Vamdemon's attack and returning fire with her Flower Cannon, leaving her fate more ambiguous and desperate than seeing her give as good as she gets against Myotismon might have otherwise.

Narrator: Will Lillymon withstand Myotismon's Crimson Lightning or will Mimi lose her best friend? Next time on Digimon: Digital Monsters!

XD None of the above; She dodged it, asshole. Fuck out of here with your patriarchal false dichotomies!

Assessment: Lilimon is the best and her debut episode sees the plot ramping up, as Vamdemon abandons all pretense of a stealthy infiltration now that he's narrowed down the Eighth Child's location to a single district. We aren't sneaking around doing Animorphs shit anymore; We are going loud and doing last five or so Animorphs volumes shit.

The parents are now in on it, to varying degrees, and it's great to see them stepping up for their kids. Mimi's parents are adorable and hilarious, Sora's mom is trying to reconcile, Yamato's dad is a badass, and Taichi's dad beat up ghosts with a metal bar.

I said it before, but you really can see the traits that trickled down into the Chosen Children embedded in their parents. Where they inherited their best qualities, and also their worst.

The dub is fantastic for about 2/3 of the episode but then shits the bed once we hit Big Sight and never fully recovers. It does slowly recover, but never fully.

[friendlyloveaffair]

It was exactly 44 years ago when Ultraman 80 first came to us from a star. ⭐

First broadcast: April 2, 1980 on Tokyo Broadcasting System (TBS).

Just a simple fan edit with the opening ("Ultraman 80") and closing themes ("Let's Go UGM").

[siderealscribblings]

The Thieves Den Mementos, the Metaverse

“What happened?” 

“Based on a thorough examination of our systems…everything blew up.” 

“Everything being-” 

“Ev. Er. Y. Thing,” Futaba said, shaking a burnt out old computer next to her ear before chucking it out the window in disgust. “Every wire and board I had hooked up to a magatsuhi battery discharged so fast the copper melted. Thank God, I haven't hooked the vehicles up yet…" 

"What has God done for us lately that deserves our thanks?" Ren sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Ryuji, how much juice do we have left?" 

"Well somehow we lost half the fuckin' pool!'" Ryuji growled, carrying bottles of magatsuhi in his arms as he emerged from the pool room. "The weird spinny machine thing that makes magatsuhi out of internet rumors is still working, but that stockpile we were sitting on is looking a little dry." 

"So not a total wash," Makoto said, biting off the last of her fingernails. "We can eat at least; the rest of the city doesn't look so lucky." 

Outside the window, Mementos was only barely coming back on. Magatsuhi flowed back into light fixtures here and there but huge swathes of the city were dark, making the twisting spires and shadowy caverns between buildings seem all the more sinister. 

"Keep the outer lights off; don't let anyone know we still have magatsuhi," Ren said, watching Futaba stick her hand into a monitor and wiggle her fingers around the insides a bit. Makoto and Ann could heal bodies; Futaba had an uncanny knack of making (or breaking) machines with a simple touch. Sure enough, the monitor fizzled on after a moment, bringing up a feed of social media links and news broadcasts from around Tokyo. 

"You think this is S.E.E.S' doing?" Makoto asked, scanning the screen thoughtfully. "Yoshizawa said they declared war on us; maybe this is an opening salvo?" 

"If they had some kind of magatsuhi draining weapon, wouldn't they have used it before now?" Yusuke mused. "Seems to be a powerful tool that could have saved their agents' lives." 

"You're asking why S.E.E.S. isn't doing more to save human lives?" Futaba sniffed, scanning the monitors with a glare. "Wait…what's that?" 

Futaba snapped her fingers, enlarging the smaller screen to fill the monitor. A tired newswoman was standing outside what appeared to be a jail, the words "KANESHIRO & SEVEN OTHERS ESCAPED" flashing on the screen as rescue workers carried people on stretchers out of the shattered remnants of the front door. 

"That's…bad," Ann said, leaning over Ren's shoulder to get a better look. "You're telling me that little bug is scurrying around Tokyo somewhere?" 

"All the better for us to squash ," Makoto said, glaring at the picture of Kaneshiro on screen. "We might not get a better chance; you know S.E.E.S. is going to be after him. It's the middle of the night ; we might be able to take care of this before even Goro or Yoshizawa know what happened." 

"Of course, that brings us right back to being thought of as monsters," Haru chimed in. 

"They're going to think that if they catch Kaneshiro anyway…" Ren growled, tugging at the back of his hair. "Do we have enough juice to jump?" 

"We're going now ?" Yusuke asked. 

"Why, are you washing your tail or something?" 

"Is it wise to leave our base unguarded when half the city wants what little magatsuhi we have?" Yusuke asked. 

"Not really, but when have we ever made a choice that has zero downsides?" Ren countered. "Yes, leaving the base unguarded is a risk, but so is letting Kaneshiro scurry around where he might be caught and forced to squawk about us. And I'll be more damned than I already am if S.E.E.S. isn't already in pursuit, ready to bring him in." 

Yusuke's lips twisted, but he said nothing as Ren turned back to Futaba. "Well? Can we make a jump?" 

"Probably," Futaba said, tapping some buttons and flicking off the overhead lights. "...maybe. Guess there's one way to find out. We might be able to trigger the earring and buy us some time to keep S.E.E.S off our backs too." 

"I thought you said that was a risk," Ren said. 

"Well, yeah, but-" Futaba shrugged. "Isn't everything these days? I could maybe get into S.E.E.S.' comms systems; figure out where Kaneshiro's gonna be. Maybe cause some havoc before bailing and cleaning up after myself?" 

Ren seemed to weigh this. "...how long can you stay connected to their system before you have to escape?" 

"Fifteen minutes, but by then it'll be too late," Futaba said, her usual confidence slightly shaky, but otherwise intact. "Can't promise they won't kick my gremlins out but-" 

"Nothing is without risk," Makoto muttered, nodding at Ren. "Time to roll the dice, I guess." 

"So we drop in, find Kaneshiro, and take him out before S.E.E.S. can mobilize enough to stop us," Ren said, clapping his hands together. "Agreed?" 

A murmur of assent rippled through the group. "Good…let's suit up and be ready to go in ten. Bring ammo, guns…anything you think Kaneshiro might not like." 

Ren snapped his fingers, heart skipping a beat as it always did when he donned Joker's mask and coat. Feeling his hands clench in infernal leather gloves made them feel stronger, if only because his fingers no longer shook. And from behind Joker's mask, the prospect of harming a fellow human wasn't quite so daunting. 

Ann lingered behind even as Makoto ran off to make her final preparations, disconcertingly waiting until they were alone before speaking. "What happens if we run into Goro?" 

Ren said as casually as he could. "...hope he makes the right choice, I guess." 

"Is that why you were talking to him when I came to find you?" Ann asked, sharp feline eyes scouring his face. "You had Futaba's phone upstairs…who else would you be talking to if not-" 

"Yeah, okay, it was him," Joker said, his voice tight and strained as he avoided her gaze. "Just…trying to give him an out before something bad happens. I figure…I figure we owe him that, don't we?" 

"Sure," Ann said, her warm hand tilting his jaw towards her so she could properly look at him. "As long as you make the right choice as well." 

Her warm lips pressed against his cheek, a tangible reminder of what Ren already had with the Phantom Thieves. He should have been happy; most people in their position would have died a million times over and if Ren had survived, it would be as something heinous without his lovers keeping him human. Most people would have counted their wins and walked away from the table; most people weren't as greedy as a master thief though. And to Ren, any win less than a jackpot was just leaving money on the table. 

Read More...

Start from the beginning

[breakfast-cereal]

a cure for monotony

word count: 1.2k

description: Yagami Light was bored

notes: written for Day 1 of @deathnotetober 2024

[main masterlist] [work on ao3]

(c: Yayoi Kusama)

Yagami Light was bored, but not in the typical sense of disinterest. Light cared for various things: school, his parents, his sister, morality, justice. The list goes on. The thing is, life was monotonous. 

Every day, Light suffered the same idiotic ramblings of his peers. Did you hear that Aiko-chan is dating Haruto? I got so drunk at that party last night! Hey, Yagami-kun, do you have the answers to the homework?

It wasn’t limited to school. Wherever Light went, he was tortured with the knowledge of his superiority. These people wasted their time gossiping and chatting about nonsense, living out their immoral lives without a care in the world.

Maybe life was more than monotonous. It was torturous until Light saw the Death Note. 

He brushed it off as chain mail. Idiots loved those things. Forward this email, or you’ll be subjected to Reiko Kashima’s curse. Light scoffed but shoved the book into his school bag anyway. The black cover stained his hands. Call it morbid curiosity.

At his desk, Light flipped through the blank pages, fascinated and disgusted at the effort in creating the prank. He pushed it into his drawer, fighting the itch in his hands.

Light scribbled a few math problems into his workbook, glancing from his neat handwriting to the TV on his side table. He huffed and grabbed the remote. Morbid curiosity.

The news channel broadcasted the face of Otoharada Kurou, an older man hijacking a daycare. Light scowled as glee flooded his body. What depravity. 

In his seventeen years of life, he has heard several arguments against the death penalty but disagreed with all of them. Men like Otoharada deserve to die. When activists say it’s immoral to kill another human being, he nearly laughs. Is it not the pinnacle of morality to remove filth from this earth? The justice system exists to rid Japan of depraved criminals. He has never felt the urge to defend them.

Light scribbled Otoharada’s name, keeping his face in mind like the notebook said. He looked at his watch, noting the seconds ticking by. Forty seconds. In forty seconds, the world would be free of Otoharada. 

Thirty-five seconds passed, and nothing happened. Light flushed. He couldn’t believe himself, falling victim to a stupid prank like a common fool, too stuck in the emotions of it all. He shook his head, returning to his math problems.

The reporter gasped. Light swiveled, jumping from his chair to stare at the TV in horror. Otoharada died. Light killed him. Thickness welled in his throat, black like the ink staining Otoharada’s name on the Death Note’s page. Yagami Light killed a man. He wanted to vomit.

When Light picked up his pencil, his hands shook furiously. The reporter continued in the background, her words rattling between his ears. He couldn’t believe it worked. Was he a murderer?

He ran his fingers along the Death Note’s cover, sliding it inside his desk drawer. For the first time, Yagami Light was no longer bored. 

Light gripped his cram school books under his arm, slinking into the bright 7-Eleven. On his walk home, he watched the degeneracy unfold around him like clockwork. Darkness brought out the wicked, and he began believing the creatures of the night in horror films were nothing more than amalgamations of Tokyo’s midnight streets.

Drunks stumbling out of bars, harassing any woman they can get their hands on. Students around his age, hanging off the arms of older men from the club they got into with their fake IDs. People had no shame, no decency. It revolted him. While they weren’t criminals, Light couldn’t deny the world would be better off without them.

A scream sounded from outside the store. Light looked up from the rows of energy drinks, catching sight of a group of men assaulting a terrified woman. He sneered and ran his hands along the side of his bookbag.

Light pulled a magazine from the magazine stand and slid the Death Note between its pages. On the man’s lips hung his name: Shibuimaru Takuo. He scribbled a few iterations, crossing his fingers the kanji were right. Finally, he etched 渋井丸 拓男 [1] into the page next to plain characters reading traffic accident. 

The woman struggled from Shibuimaru’s grasp, starting down the street, her coat billowing behind her. Shibuimaru followed, revving the engine of his bike with furrowed brows.

Light scoffed. Of course, it wouldn’t work. He was naïve for thinking the first time wasn’t a fluke.  

He returned to the energy drinks, plucking out his favourite flavours. Shibuimaru’s gang shouted. Light stared at the scene; Takuo’s bike was crushed against the concrete. His hands shook, and he forced the Death Note back into his book bag. 

For the first time, Yagami Light killed someone who was not a criminal. Shibuimaru had not faced a trial in court, and he had not been found guilty.

Light stumbled out of the 7-Eleven, clutching his chest. He fell against the brick wall outside the store and felt dirty; his hands soiled with the death of an innocent. But that wasn’t a fair judgement. Shibuimaru was far from innocent. If Light hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve raped that woman. He would’ve been a criminal.

His body sparked with exhilaration. Yagami Light realized the Death Note was what he had been looking for all this time.

After Shibuimaru, Light spent his free nights scanning the NPA’s database and monitoring the news. Every stroke of his pen was liberating; every criminal erased from the world was a step closer to divinity.

The new possibilities unfurling elated Light. A world free of evil, free of cruelty. He held morality in his palm, and it was intoxicating. 

He understood the implications of his actions. Light was smart, smarter than the average person. He knew murder received the death penalty, but he would martyr himself if he had to. 

With the peoples’ interests at heart, Light trudged forward, correcting the NPA’s failures. He left the deaths blank but sensed the ripples of every heart attack along his spine. Light wanted criminals to know they were being punished. 

When he wasn’t studying or correcting, he spent some time on occult blogs, learning the intricacies of the Death Note. To his surprise, no Shinigami came to him. He imagined they observed him and agreed. 

The more he learnt about the Death Note, through use and reading, a strange reverence grew inside him. Not reverence for the Shinigami, but for the notebook itself. The gods blessed him with a tool to rid the world of evil. Light never wanted more. 

Light took his Death Note from his desk, placing it alongside his textbooks and a black pen. He scanned the list of names imprinted on the pages and flipped on the TV.

Morality and justice used to be concepts Light could only ever fantasize about. Now, he held the power to enact them in his fingers.

For the first time in his life, Yagami Light felt true, unequivocal love. 

[1]: The kanji for Shibuimaru Takuo

[ououy]

Trump questions rumors of USAID funding foreign media: Japanese netizens name 15 media outlets, Yomiuri, NHK, Fuji, Kyodo all on list

Rumors of attacks on the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) are spreading rapidly on social media as President Donald Trump and Elon Musk, who runs the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), target the agency with major layoffs and funding freezes. Rumors that USAID funds overseas media outlets and “manipulates” their reporting have now reached Japan, with as many as 15 mainstream Japanese media outlets listed as corrupt organizations, including Asahi Shimbun, Yomiuri Shimbun, Nihon Keizai Shimbun, and Nihon Keizai Shimbun. Asahi Shimbun, Yomiuri Shimbun, Nihon Keizai Shimbun and NHK were all named by netizens.

According to Japanese media reports, the claim that the media received funds from the International Development Agency (IDA) to publish news of a particular position, or even to assist the government in attacking or discrediting a particular person, was first posted by Trump himself, and then retweeted and spread by Musk, leading to the “unsubstantiated” rumor becoming a trending topic across the entire X-platform. Across language barriers, the rumor has been trending from English to Japanese. On the Japanese-language X-platform, there have been more than 2 million posts related to “USAID” so far.

Just as the U.S.-based The New York Times and the political news website Politico have been named as being involved in this historic scandal, a list of “USAID's Corrupt Organizations in Japan” has recently appeared on the community, and almost all of them are media outlets or television stations familiar to Taiwanese readers. Almost all of them are media or TV stations familiar to Taiwanese readers. In addition to the four already mentioned, the other 11 Japanese media include Mainichi Shimbun, Sankei Shimbun, Tokyo Shimbun, Hokkaido Shimbun, Kyodo News, Jiji Press, Nippon Television, TV Asahi, Tokyo Broadcasting System, and Tokyo Broadcasting System (TBS). NTV, TV Asahi, Tokyo Broadcasting System (TBS), Fuji TV, and TV Tokyo.

In the face of being challenged by name, all Japanese media outlets issued a strong denial at the first time, including NHK, which emphasized that it would investigate the inaccurate statements, and that the media outlet and TV station had never received any funding from USAID; and Sankei Shimbun, which said that it would continue to work hard in the future to ensure the impartiality of its news coverage. The Asahi Shimbun also hit back in a statement, saying, “It is regrettable that untrue and inaccurate information is spreading rapidly.” All 15 Japanese mainstream media outlets denied that they had ever received instructions or requests from USAID or others to influence the content or direction of their news coverage.

[loonavrsl]

KanStarpress Interview with Loossemble: "We'll charm with various concepts" [ENG TRANS]

Consisting of members of LOONA! Cool and cute K-POP female idol group Loossemble! Exuding coquettish charm with their 3rd mini album "TTYL"! "We'll charm with various concepts"

[English translation by gointosubbit]:

First coming together under the slogan of "meeting a new girl every month", with emotional songs that sing of a sensitive girl's feelings and loved globally for their high-grade visuals and performance, members Hyunjin, Yeojin, Vivi, Go Won and Hyeju (Olivia Hye) of the Korean girl group LOONA formed the Korean girl group Loossemble, having a comeback with their 3rd mini album "TTYL" on September 2nd, and have finished their promotions for the album.

They had their Japanese debut as LOONA, and also had huge success with their Japanese concert "LOONA 1st Live 'LOONA THE WORLD in TOKYO'". In their "TTYL" promotions this time, they have appeared in many Korean music shows, such as the Korean live broadcast show "Music Bank" on the Korean equivalent to Japan's NHK, Korean Broadcasting System (KBS), and exuded coquettish charm with their performance that seems to lure in the person they are interested in. And so, here’s an email interview with Loossemble! Among the members, Hyunjin, Vivi, Go Won and Hyeju participated (in this interview).

-- The members of Loossemble have appeared in an interview with KanStar! before as LOONA members, but this is the first as Loossemble. Please first introduce yourselves to the KanStar! readers.

Hyujin: Hi! I'm the commander of Loossemble, Hyunjin! I'm happy to be able to meet you again! I look forward to today.

Vivi: Hi, I'm the Bambi of Loossemble, Vivi. I'm happy to be able to meet again. Please enjoy the interview!

Go Won: Hi! I'm in charge of cuteness in Loossemble, the cheese kitty Go Won! I'm happy to be able to meet again~!

Hyeju: Hi, I'm Hyeju, in charge of dancing in Loossemble! Please stay with us until the end of our interview!

-- There may be people in Japan who don't know about Loossemble, so please introduce what kind of group Loossemble is. Also, what sort of charms are specific to Loossemble?

Hyunjin: Firstly, with the group's name Loossemble, it's a compound word made by abbreviating LOONA ASSEMBLE, meaning it's a group that 5 members of LOONA came together to form. We've released 3 albums as Loossemble, with various genres and showing different concepts each time, so I think that sort of thing is what’s unique to Loosemble.

-- Then, what kind of album is your new mini album "TTYL"?

Go Won: Everyone that we meet is filled with different feelings and thoughts; "TTYL" is an album that contains the feelings of growing up by accepting how these people are different from yourself. Intro track "FANATICISM", title track "TTYL", twin sub-unit tracks "Cotton Candy" and "Confessions", "Hocus Pocus" with its light-hearted melody, and intense and captivating "Secret Diary", there's a total of 6 tracks included. It's an album with really good songs, so please listen to it a lot.

-- Then, what kind of song is the title track "TTYL"?

Go Won: "TTYL" is a pop dance song that leaves an impression with plug sound synthesizers, rhythmic up-tempo drums, and rich harmonies between Loossemble members. The addictive chorus and bouncy and lively melody has a bright and cheerful charm unique to us, and the lyrics express the cute and cold parts of the push-and-pull with the person you like.

-- I thought the vocals were refreshing for the summer, easy to listen to in the autumn; vocals you could trust in. How was the recording process?

Hyeju: It's a fun song with a fast beat, so we recorded being mindful of the rhythm. Just like you mentioned, I think it also fits with how the feeling of autumn is becoming stronger lately, so I hope you listen (to "TTYL") a lot.

-- What is the key point of the choreography?

Hyeju: Waving both hands in the "Talk to you later~" part of the chorus, or biting our fingers and twerking. I'd be happy if people in Japan were to do a dance challenge of these on SNS, etc.

-- I thought the music video was like a short-form movie. Please tell us about the key points of the music video.

Vivi: I also thought it was very interesting when watching the final music video! I think you can see the cold push-and-pull with someone you're interested in, as well as enjoy the members' unique charms in the music video. There's a scene on a rooftop in the music video, but it was really hot during filming. But I remember it being odd not feeling that when monitoring, and thinking it was good that it ended up beautifully shot lol.

-- I think there are many Japanese fans wishing for Loossemble to quickly come to Japan for activities. Is there anything you want to do in Japan?

Hyunjin: On top of wanting to hold a concert in Japan, I also want to travel around and film content. There are many good restaurants in Japan, so I think fans would be happy if Loossemble were to film something in those restaurants.

Vivi: It would be fun if we could also tour in Japan, and personally, I just want to go around the cities and travel lol.

Go Won: I want to try holding a concert and fansigning in Japan! Personally, I like Japanese food, so I want to go on a gourmet tour.

Hyeju: I want to hold a concert as Loossemble. Personally, I want to try going to Ghibli Studio lol.

-- Please share your TMI.

Vivi: I'm a sweet potato killer lol - I really like eating it. Grilled, boiled, even dried; it's so tasty that I can't stop lol. Everyone, please teach me about Japan's delicious sweet potatoes~!

Hyunjin: I break out in itchy, cracked skin (atopic dermatitis) if I eat too much of eggs, milk, flour or cheese (cry).

Go Won: I like the manga series "Atashin’chi", so I've read the entire series. And so, since I know the entire story, I'm reading the Japanese version. Hopefully it becomes a good way to study Japanese.

Hyeju: It's very random, but I am currently answering this interview's questions while lying sideways on the sofa. It's 8 am.

-- Lastly, a message to the fans in Japan

Hyunjin: Japanese C.Loos! I'm happy to meet you through this interview! Thank you for always supporting and loving us from so far away😍 We'll also work harder with that power! I love you🤎

Vivi: Japanese C.Loos~! Thank you for always supporting and loving us from far away. I want to go meet you soon! I miss you~

Go Won: Thank you for sending us so much support and love! I always receive a lot of energy because of it. I hope next time we can meet on stage in Japan!

Hyeju: Thank you for your continuous support. Please wait just a little more until the day we can meet~! Thanks for reading the interview until the end~

Translation by: gointosubbit / original article

[nawtponchoesquire]

Oh god, this manga is about me: Dead Dead Demon's Dedede Destruction

On December 2nd, 2022, a YouTube livestream broadcasted the rollout of Northrop Grumman’s latest technological marvel to thousands of people. Countless hours of R&D, cutting edge engineering, and assembly all lead to this moment. Northrop Grumman CEO Kathy Warden spoke from a podium about “the next generation of capability” and “defining what this nation is capable of when we work together” while the livestream chat gawked and called her Mommy.

After Warden’s speech, the hangar door behind her slowly opened. Blue stage lights cast a powerful aura over a hulking monolith draped in a white cloth. Cinematic orchestra music blared and the lights pulsed with the music. The chat screamed “TRUMP 2024”, “METAL GEAR”, and “MOMMY” still, if you can believe it. The music reached its explosive crescendo, and the curtains dropped: the B21 stealth bomber was introduced to the world in all its glory.

Admiral Christopher W. Grady called it an “Airborne Extended Deterrent”. In his speech after the reveal, Grady waffled a bit about national security, and about how this plane REALLY matters and was, like, TOTALLY worth the tax dollars, guys. “This isn’t just another airplane. It’s not just another acquisition. It’s a symbol and a source of the fighting spirit that President Reagan spoke of” he said.

Livestreams and marketing of this nature aren’t uncommon in today’s late capitalist dystopia. Gun manufacturer Heckler and Koch shows off flashy trailers of their submachine guns, edited with a slow-mo Booj and the musical timing of a Battlefield trailer. At the time of writing, there’s even an extremely late sale on their website for “MARCH MAG-NESS”, with a toggle at the top for civilian and law enforcement of course.

When looking at these pieces as part of my research for this post, I’m left with a sinking feeling that’s hard to describe. I feel swallowed by a culture and a system so determined to casualize warfare, to justify violence against a perceived, sometimes invisible threat. As the planet warms, the rich elude responsibility, and I whittle away my days at an office job, precisely one thought bounces around in my brain: “I can't wait to go home and play videogames”.

This exact feeling is captured in amber by Inio Asano’s latest finished work, Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction! (henceforth referred to as Dead Dead Demon’s). Set 3 years after a UFO appeared above Tokyo, Dead Dead Demon’s follows two high school grads just living their life while the literal and figurative “end of the world” looms overhead. What starts off as an unassuming pre-apocalyptic slice-of-life unravels into a deeply fascinating vivisection of our current geopolitical climate and how its effects trickle down to the youngest generations like countless streams of Ronald Reagan’s piss.

It’s impossible not to see the political implications of Dead Dead Demon’s. After the giant UFO suddenly appeared above Tokyo, The Japanese military panicked. They shot down the countless smaller UFO’s that poured out of the main craft, raining debris down on Tokyo’s denizens. Thousands were killed, including Kadode Koyama’s father. Kadode’s mother, left traumatized and paranoid after this tragedy, becomes the manga’s version of a conspiracy truther. 3 years after 8/31, Kadode’s mother leaves Tokyo and her daughter behind to live in a commune with her new boyfriend.

In the midst of her high school graduation and early college career, Kadode is left alone. Or, she would be, if not for Ouran Nakagawa, her childhood best friend. Ouran is Kadode’s rock-solid foundation. As the manga comes back to time and time again, they are absolute; an unwavering, unconditional love connects the two in a way that’s rarely portrayed in manga. A running theme throughout the manga is that the people you love can pull you through anything, not through fixing your problems, but simply by being by your side. Or at least, it would be. More on that later.

The duality of Kadode and Ouran is explored throughout the manga in such a way that it builds the two protagonists to be distinct but codependent. Kadode, a victim of bullying in elementary school, developed a discomfort with how easily society labels its ingroups and outgroups. Her only respite from relentless bullying was Isobeyan, an ongoing gag manga that her father worked on.

The titular Isobeyan and his incredible technological gadgets allow a neurotic teenage girl named Debeko to find wacky solutions to her problems. Debeko, unable to escape her own cycles of narcissism and self-loathing, constantly relies on Isobeyan’s gadgets to get her way. Kadode sees her own destructive tendencies in Debeko, and fantasizes about using Isobeyan’s gadgets to fix her own life; it’s a potent fantasy to give someone who is marginalized. Full-color snippets of the fictional manga bookend each volume of Dead Dead Demon’s, serving as a clear visual and structural metaphor for the invaders and how their advanced technology would seem to be able to fix anything.

While Kadode Koyama is cynical but reserved, Ouran Nakagawa is a firehose of sparkly anticapitalist rage. She’s brash and completely unfiltered, swinging from scathing cynicism about the future of Japan to raucous joy about the latest patch for her favorite FPS within literal seconds. Ouran is the candle that burns twice as bright and twice as long, loudly proclaiming herself to exist in equal parts joyous laugh and viscous battle cry.

However, that’s not the whole story. Beneath the mask is a deeply empathetic high school girl who really just loves the people she surrounds herself with. She may tease her friends after a bad date, but she’s there to hug them while they cry. Although she talks a lot of shit, she clings to her friends like they are the most important people in the universe to her. Ouran embodies both the hopeless circle-jerk of being at the bottom rung of late-stage capitalism and the boundless love that powers us through the worst of times within that system. And yet, further beneath that, something stirs within her. More on that later.

The alien invasion is a clear allegory for (INSERT HOT-BUTTON GEOPOLITICAL TOPIC HERE). It’s equal parts climate change, refugee crisis, and 9/11. The so-called invaders don’t exactly live up to their name, being about the height of a grade-schooler and waddling around with cute old-fashioned submarine helmets on. They are about as unassuming as an extraterrestrial threat could possibly be, and we even get some chapters with the invaders from their perspective as they try to survive in Tokyo’s quarantine zones. To them, Earth is a hellscape they did not intend to die on. And oh my god, do they die.

This is the part of Dead Dead Demon’s that pulls on some horrible discomfort deep within me. The genocide of the invaders is sponsored by tech industry giants like Samsung and Google, literally mowing down crowds of child-sized invaders with machine guns, while Kadode and Koyama go about their daily lives just a few blocks away. The dissonance between high school antics and the screams of what look like dying children hits close to home. It’s impossible not to see the parallels between how we, as consumers in a post-industrial society, often live willfully ignorant to the cruelties our lifestyles enable.

I’ve grappled with the question, “what is Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction about?” ever since I first sat down and read it. After a third re-read, I’m not sure that I could boil it down to one specific, sexy thematic clause, and that seems intentional. Inio Asano, the manga’s author, is notorious for creating stories that revel in complexity. Dead Dead Demon’s welcomes, interrogates, and explores a whole host of questions about life in the modern era. And then… the big reveal happens at the midway point; the truth of what this story was really, always about.

Spoilers from here on out, folks. The manga takes a pretty significant turn, one that I actually really like, but it will give you whiplash if you aren’t ready for it.

Okay. So. Time Travel.

The Ouran we’ve seen throughout the first half of the story is without a doubt eccentric. The glimpses of her that we see in flashbacks, however, look like a totally different person. As a child, Ouran is shy and quiet and rolls with the punches. She even stands idly by as Kadode is bullied by her awful classmates. For lack of a better term, she’s perfectly normal. Somewhere along the way, something seriously changed for her.

When Ouran and Kadode were young, they barely spoke. The story goes that they grew close over a summer cram school stuck together, but the secret that brought them together builds out the world and history of Dead Dead Demon’s in a pretty surprising way: Kadode and Ouran found an invader 8 years before the invasion of Tokyo.

Kadode and Ouran go full ET mode and keep the invader disguised in Ouran’s bedroom. After some debate on what to do, the invader finally speaks up for themselves using a small alien device as a translation tool. The invader’s purpose for coming to earth is clear; they are a scout sent by “the home country” to see if Earth is a good place to finally come and colonize.

The interaction here between the scout and these two schoolchildren is fascinating. The scout speaks in vague terms, but they make it clear that humanity exists on earth to create a breathable atmosphere for the invaders, much like how trees create a breathable atmosphere for us. Invaders are beings that aren’t so strongly tethered to a body or physical form; compared to humans, the invaders are actually much more spiritual and transitory. Their child-like bodies only exist as a vessel through which they interact with the world around them.

Kadode and Ouran are bestowed with an impossible burden. They believe that they must prove themselves, and by extension humanity, as welcoming and friendly to this alien civilization. The scout is content to watch this with scientific, unobtrusive collectedness. If they can get a clear read on humanity and its potential threat to the home country anyways, the scout might as well entertain these two girls’ efforts.

Through actively volunteering to do good, the girls feel like they are painting a good picture of humanity for the invader to see. However, it soon becomes clear that the system they are a part of is too big for two small girls to change. Kadode and Ouran can’t do anything about the scandalized politicians, con artists, and criminals. Kadode, fully grasping the situation and its implications, decides that she can do more. No, she needs to do more.

Kadode manages to steal a few powerful tools from the Invader. A small device that sends a devastating force out from its tip, enough to send a car tumbling sideways. An invisible cloak that perfectly obscures its wearer. A device worn on the head that allows one to fly. When these technological marvels are put together, Kadode goes from being an unassuming grade schooler to something else entirely: a vigilante dead-set on purging the horrible people from this world.

Before long, news started to break of a train wreck, and of a politician turning up dead after a hospital stay for a minor medical issue ended with a bullet-shaped wound. Ouran’s favorite pop band member quit, and suddenly the concert was canceled thanks to a technical accident. Over the course of a few days, Kadode has been tracking down horrible people, nearly killing them, and asking them one simple question, “Tell me the worst person you know.”

Ouran finds out that Kadode has been doing this vigilante work, and for the first and only time in the manga, they fight. Kadode, grappling with the sheer weight of trying to fix our world, is left cold, distant, and apathetic. Ouran finds this new side of Kadode to be frightening and alien, like she doesn’t even know who she is talking to. After an argument and a brief physical confrontation, Ouran is left alone for the first time. She is devastated.

Kadode doesn’t show up to class for a few weeks. Then she moves away. In one last ditch effort, Ouran goes to Kadode’s new home and asks to speak with her. Kadode is disheveled, but seems somewhat happy to see Ouran. Therapy has convinced her that Kadode hallucinated or dreamed up her vigilante spree, but talking to Ouran reminds her all too well that what she did was real. The people she killed, the burden of proving humanity to be good, and the destruction of her relationship with her best friend, all push her beyond her limits. She can’t do this anymore.

In the middle of their brief conversation, Kadode jumps from the fourth story of her apartment building.

This series of events, observed by the invader, force them to come to one conclusion: Earth cannot be trusted and should not be visited by the Home Country. Hopeless and devastated, Ouran asks the invader if there’s anything they can do to bring Kadode back. While the invader can’t bring back Kadode, he can do something else: transplant Ouran’s consciousness to a different timeline. This would come with all sorts of risks, such as mental deterioration, but it would allow Ouran to relive her summer school cram days to do things right. Ouran could direct the timeline so that the two never encounter the invader all those years ago. Ouran ultimately accepts the invader’s offer.

I’m kind of obsessed with this decision because it underscores the tragedy and beauty of Ouran as a character. The crazy, chaotic Ouran we’ve been with for the entire story is actually a time traveler from another timeline. Since she never met with the invader, the Home Country was not notified that Earth was dangerous, and thus they appeared above Tokyo, killing Kadode’s father among thousands of other people as collateral damage. When given the choice between inadvertently destroying humanity and losing the one person that gives her life meaning, Ouran chose for herself. I really can’t blame her for that. What good is humanity anyway?

There’s more to this story, entire twists and plotlines I’ve glossed over and cut out of this post, but this moment speaks to the core of what this manga is about. Dead Dead Demon’s is about aliens, time travel, and corporate espionage, but it’s also about the people that need to live beneath those exact colossal forces battling overhead. When the system is this fundamentally broken, filled with flashy ads for the newest line of submachine guns, giant alien-destroying mechs sponsored by pop stars, and live streams where the CEO of a death machine company is called Mommy, it’s impossible not to feel weighed down by it all. The sheer scope of capitalism has never been more visible and more damaging to its denizens.

I often feel like my life is a rollercoaster. Right now, I feel like I’m at the part of the rollercoaster after the big buildup, where an amazing view beckons to me. I’m at the top, but I can feel gravity subtly pulling me down. In our current moment, the system is buckling under the weight of problems created generations prior. The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer, and basic hopes like owning a house or even a new car are well out of reach for many, many people. Without sweeping change, we’re fucked.

I can’t wait to go home and play videogames.