#but I really maintain what I said about volume 1 yesterday….

[lunar-years]

6 little nuggets line was even worse the second time I’ll tell you that….

[calboniferous]

In Theory

Work 1 in The Pen and the Sword aka. my jedi and academics AU

A stressed post-graduate anthropology researcher from Coruscant University enters the Jedi Archives for the first time and is promptly taken under the wing of one Master Archivist Jocasta Nu.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32355310

—

Master Jocasta Nu felt the visitor before she saw them. Stress and a frenetic energy radiated through the force tangled with the unique threads of emotion and colour that made up their signature.

Closing the book in front of her with a soft thud, mindful of its frayed edges, she appraised the blue nautolan hurrying towards her. Their worn brown coat was unbuttoned and struggling to stay onto their shoulders, saved by the strap of the bag hanging off one side which the nautolan had one arm wrapped around. Apparently, the bag’s tie had lost the battle against the tide of flimsy and datapads making the simple bag bulge obscenely.

Ah.

A scholar.

Like the many before them, they had come to Master Nu’s beloved archives in hope of finding salvation in its hallowed stacks. With her guidance, they always did and more often than not, they would return again. And again.

However, this scholar was not one that Master Nu had seen before and as they glanced wide-eyed at the towering shelves, shying away from passing Jedi, she surmised that the Jedi archives were unfamiliar to them also.

They reached her desk out of breath.

“I need books on Kante martial arts and history. Do you have books on Kante? If it has historical martial arts then that would be incredible but I’m setting the bar low. Really, the bar is non-existent. Should I even be setting a bar I don’t know- do you know what the Kante are? Were? They’re extinct”

“Young one, breathe.” Master Nu said, lifting her hand to interrupt the rush of words. Her brow softened in sympathy, “How about you start from the beginning and tell me what your thesis is and then we’ll go about finding resources.”

She signalled to one of the Padawans stacking holopads nearby for them to take over monitoring the main desk and led Tema to one of the many sunlit alcoves tucked between the buttresses.

Settling on a cushion across the low table from the sleep deprived nautolan, Master Nu pulled out her well-worn datapad, ready to formulate a list of texts to recommend for this student’s project. She had gathered quite the collection of such lists over the years and took great pride in curating them. Often, she would continue to add to them in her spare time so that when the person they had been made for returned, it was waiting and ready. And, if Master Nu happened to enjoy the thrill of a hunt for obscure references through her own archives every now and again, that was her own business.

Stylus in hand, she was ready to begin.

“You mentioned martial arts?”

“Right. Yes. I’m studying the fighting style of the Kante people which they used to reclaim their lands 7000 years ago after it was conquered in the Chandrillan Divide. The politics of the reclamation itself have been documented to death but there’s kriff all discussing how they actually fought,”

Master Nu hummed sympathetically, listening as a classic university post-graduate research tragedy poured out in all its glory. The purple shadows smeared under Tema’s dark eyes suggested that more than one night had been lost to this.

It was a credit to her Jedi training and skill as an archivist that Master Nu could write notes, elegant script flitting smoothly across the datapad without misspelling a single title or name, while offering comforting hums and interjecting words of encouragement where Tema faltered.

“So now I need to piece it together myself in order to build a theory on how the Kante people approached battlefield strategy,” Tema finished, fidgeting with their bag strap.

Setting her stylus down, Master Nu surveyed the drafted list with a critical eye. It was a daunting selection. She weighed the situation in her mind and carefully turned the datapad off, placing it down with a muted click of metal on the polished stone table.

“That’s quite the task you’ve got” Master Nu said, “more than an Honours project scope covers.”

She loathed to discourage any scholar but there were limits to the workload that could be shouldered and she had a strict honesty policy. With all her Jedi compassion and experience ad Head Archivist, Master Nu knew how to recognise when a student needed guidance in whittling down their research focus to a reasonable magnitude.

“I know,” Tema sighed, shoulders sagging, “I know but my project topic has already been approved by my supervisor.”

“Dear, your project as it stands is enough to satisfy a PhD and beyond. I can tell you are passionate about it but it’d be a tragedy for you to fail because you tried to complete years’ worth of work in the 10 months you have.”

The blue nautolan wilted a little, head tails curling.

“I don’t see what choice I have. I can’t form a thesis on the merits of Kante strategy without knowing how it worked at the individual level,” they said, resignation colouring their force signature grey with worry.

Master Nu paused, and after a moment spoke.

“Have you considered centring your project on the martial arts itself? At the individual level, as you say. Leaving the rest aside to focus on that should technically be within your project topic.”

Tema blinked, “That’s…that would work. Yes.”

Master Nu watched as they turned the idea over, considering how to approach it.

“Yes. That would make it more of a research-and-reconstruction project. A literature review with practical application.”

They gave a wry smile, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Some of the frazzled emotion of their presence eased and a few threads of humour sparked in its wake.

“I could have saved myself from being sick from worry in the University ‘freshers yesterday.”

They flushed a little darker at that admission and Master Nu suppressed what would have been a rather unprofessional snort of amusement as she clicked the datapad back on. Ah, younglings. They never changed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. That amount of stress isn’t conducive to clarity of mind, I’d wager,” Master Nu soothed, deleting a few items from the list with a satisfied air, “You’re hardly the first person’s I’ve known to have an adverse reaction to academic stress. Now, I do believe this list is ready.”

Rising with more grace than her age suggested she was capable of, she smoothed the creases in her cream and straw-gold robes and led the way into the maze of columns and shelves. Tema followed a step behind in a manner that to any observers bore remarkable resemblance to a duckling following its mother – if ducklings were six-and-a-half feet tall, that is.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine a Jedi getting sick from assignments,” they mused absentmindedly, tipping their head to catch some of the book titles they passed, “all this information – it’d be hard to fail.”

Master Nu chuckled at that, passing through an archway into a side corridor.

“I’m afraid it can happen to anyone. One of my agemates routinely emptied his stomach at the prospect of examinations – that one, in fact,” she said, gesturing to one of the bronze busts lining the hall. The metallic features gave the human man depicted a severe expression. In Master Nu’s opinion, it was rather true to life even if the beard was far to neatly sculpted.

“The poor man. Perfection was as much his vice as his virtue.”

She smiled fondly, crows’ feet crinkling with nostalgia at sharing this particular story – at sharing the humanity of someone so proud and distant both in life and artistic rendition.

Tema faltered and the markings on their head tails blanched light blue.

“Oh, uh, my condolences.”

“Hmm?” Master Nu turned to them, “Oh no, he’s not dead. He’s retired.”

“Oh,”

They blinked, nonplussed.

“This way, dear”

The pair continued on their winding path. Master Nu, frequently gesturing to some architectural feature or other with her datapad, began to explain how the Jedi Archival system worked, pausing every now and then to pull a tome from the shelves.

“It is what many have described as ‘archaic’,” she said, stepping deftly onto the fourth rung of a sliding ladder attached to one of the shelves to reach her next target, “but no one—and I mean no one—has said it is an ineffective system.

“At least not in my earshot,” she said with a laugh, pulling the volume from its place and passing it down to Tema. The rumours the initiates (and fully-grown Knights) liked to spread about Master Nu’s draconian defence of the archives may not be entirely accurate but were taken by most as a warning to avoid slandering the archive in her presence. She knew Tholme liked to stir the pot and recount tales of her lightsabre prowess to the initiates, no matter that the stories were thirty years out-of-date.

“That being said, it can take some getting used to. The Padawans and Knight Archivists are always around and willing to retrieve sources for our visitors.”

Master Nu dismounted from the ladder, blew dust from her sleeve, and turned a critical eye on to the stack of books and datapads in Tema’s arms that had been steadily growing in size. The scholar looked strong enough to take a couple more, taking into account that their bulging bag would not fit anything more inside.

“That’s the last one from this aisle.”

She clicked her tongue and marked a check on her list next to the sources they were borrowing. They were all copies, of course, or volumes easily enough to source a replacement that their loss wouldn’t be abhorrent. Nonetheless, clean records made maintaining the collection less stressful on her soul.

On that note, Master Nu was pleased to feel that Tema was no longer pouring stress into the force like an anxious firehose. And—

She stilled, tilting her head as a familiar presence tickled the edges of her senses.

“Master Nu?” Tema asked, noticing her change in manner.

“Nothing to worry about,”

She once again took the lead. Down the aisle, then one aisle to the left and as they rounded the corner Master Nu smiled at the sight before her.

A little blue and beige figure was hunched over a book resting on the floor, absentmindedly gnawing on her Padawan silka beads and completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Padawan Secura! Why am I not surprised?” Master Nu called lightly and the twi’lek girl jerked, breaking from her literature-induced reverie to scramble to her feet.

“I’m not skipping sabre class again. I swear!”

Had it been any other Padawan of Aayla’s age group, Master Nu would think that emphatic declaration of innocence meant the Padawan in question was skipping class. Skywalker came to mind as a repeat offender of that variety.

Only question was that Junior Padawan sabre classes were always on Taungsday afternoons—this afternoon—and had been since before Master Nu was a crecheling. She hummed, unconvinced.

“Knight Kenobi is doing catch-up lessons this week and he said my forms were good enough to skip.”

That explained it. It seemed only yesterday that he’d been roaming the archives as a padawan himself, tearing through histories of the planets he’d visited at Qui-Gon’s side with single-minded focus. Shame that his lineage had picked him up before her own could. He would have made a fantastic archivist despite his record of being convinced to scale the bookshelves whenever Vos got temple fever.

Well, at least Aayla’s fencing education was in good hands.

Master Nu beamed at Aayla, “Then good work padawan and, as you are free, would you like to join us in gathering sources for Scholar Induri here?”

Aayla brightened, “Absolutely!”

And then, remembering her diplomacy training, bowed to Tema, setting her Padawan beads swinging. “Nice you meet you, Scholar.”

She scooped up the book she had been reading and as she put it back in its slot, Master Nu glimpsed the title.

“Reading Bastilla Shan again are we Padawan?”

The padawan blushed, fiddled with her tunic and handily dodged the teasing with a question of her own, “What are we looking for, Master?”

“See for yourself, young one,” Master Nu passed over the datapad, pointing to the highlighted entries.

Aayla squinted at the handwriting for a second before passing the pad back and running away down the aisle, one hand skimming the shelf labels. Padawans were lovely to have around and, watching Aayla slide 4 meters down a ladder and return to them with a grin plastered across her face, Master Nu wondered if she should take another student. Or, better yet, invite her former Padawans around for tea to see if more Grandpadawans would be joining the lineage soon.

“Thank you, dear,” she gave Aayla a pat on the head, “I’ll leave you to your reading. Just don’t forget to remind your Master that he needs to renew the materials he borrowed last month.”

Then, she turned to Tema who hadn’t made so much as a peep the past five minutes, seemingly satisfied to observe the interaction.

“Let’s get these checked out so you can get to reading them.”

Back to the main desk, the archivist and scholar wandered, and a minute later there was a new name entered into the borrowing database.

“Again, thank you for everything, Master Nu” Tema said, gathering the stack back into their arms. They were a little overwhelmed but they were smiling.

“Dear, it’s no trouble. One last thing, are you planning on enlisting someone practised in martial forms in your project? Or were you aiming for a more theoretical illustration of your findings?”

Tema cast their eyes to one side and shifted their weight.

“Ideally, yes, but I have no idea where to find someone like that so…theoretical?”

They trailed off.

“Good. I’m free to ask around here, then,” Master Nu said, tugging Tema’s bag strap so it was in less immediate danger of falling of their shoulder.

“If you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to send me a message or drop by. My archive is always open,”

At that, she tucked a slip of flimsy with her com code underneath the top datapad in the stack and gave Tema a parting pat on the cheek. With hope in their step, the scholar passed back out the archive doors, into the sunlight of the hall beyond.

Content, Master Nu smiled and watched them go.

“Now,” she mused to herself, opening the roster of temple-bound jedi and beginning to peruse the list, “who to ask…”

Her thoughts turned to the bronze bust of a man whose devotion to esoteric research was only outmatched by his skill with a blade.

His legacy…

Her eyes caught on a name. Yes, that would do very nicely indeed.

In the interest of vetting the source she intended to recommend, Master Nu made a mental note to attend next week’s exhibition tournament.

[ravenforce]

Stark Legacy 6

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader but Natasha Romanoff x Reader centric for this chapter.

Summary: I have no words to summarize this one. I feel like this is a whole story on it’s own. Nat x Reader, with a few flashbacks.

Word Count: 4207

A/N: Please, let me know what you guys think. I poured my heart into this, Idk why I tend to do that whenever I write for Natasha. HAHA. Also, I deviated a little bit on the coma/death arc for the reader, sorry.

Previously: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

***

Natasha walks inside the gym a little later than she normally would and fully expecting her blonde girlfriend to be there since she didn’t wake up with her on the bed either. To her surprise, Carol’s not there too. She shrugged and went on her gym routine with a furrowed brow. The next day, without even meaning to, Nat woke up to Carol trying (unsuccessfully) to silently slip off Wanda’s embrace and off their massive bed. Nat gave her girlfriend a good fifteen minutes head start before tailing her. 

Nat tried not to think ahead but Nat being Nat, she was still prepared for all possible outcomes but out of all the scenarios she thought Carol would drive to, she never - not even once - thought that she’s driving to SHIELD Headquarters. Nat’s eyebrows furrowed while waiting a few blocks away for Carol to be cleared to enter the premises. She knows for a fact that Carol’s not due for her weekly meeting with Fury because they all maintain a synchronized calendar to keep track of everyone’s schedule. 

“What are you up to, Danvers?” she whispered to herself. 

Nat sat on the parking lot for another ten minutes before following Carol inside. Nobody in their right mind would ever question why she was there even without an appointment. Natasha went through the command center to see if Deputy Director Hill is on her station but, she too wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

What is going on? Where is everyone? She thought to herself while walking along a deserted hallway. When she rounded the corner, she roughly bumped into someone. The deep frown on her face was immediately erased when she saw who she bumped into. 

“There you are!”

“You’re here too?”

They spoke at the same time. Nat chuckled for a second before registering what Maria had said. Before she can ask, Maria spoke first. 

“Does the Earth mightiest heroes have nothing better to do on their free days than loiter around here?” Maria teased before pulling Nat for a quick hug. 

“I don’t loiter -” Nat grumbled on her girlfriend’s shoulder. When they pulled apart, Maria’s sporting a teasing smile. Nat rolled her eyes playfully. “I am not loitering. I’m looking for Carol.”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Maria confirmed while tucking a stray red hair out of Nat’s face. Nat bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself from blushing at the softness her girlfriend’s showing. 

”Didn’t she just met with Nick yesterday? What’s her business here today?”

At the mention of Fury’s name, Maria stiffened as she remembered that she’s already running late to her meeting with the man himself. She cursed under her breath, hurriedly plants a soft kiss on Nat’s cheeks before sidestepping the redhead and practically running out of there. 

“Carol’s in the gym with Agent Stark,” Maria said loud enough for Nat to hear from the other end of the empty hallway before she disappeared. 

Nat stood there frozen for a minute before she turned on her heels to see what you and Carol are up to. “Y/N Stark -” she whispered to herself as she walks towards the gym. Nat can’t deny the fact that her heart started beating wildly on her chest at the mere mention of your name.

It felt like an eternity has passed since Nat ever heard your name at all. So much has happened between then and now including your supposed death and the world literally ended, Nat didn’t really have time to dwell on all of her unanswered what-ifs. What if you didn’t die? Would she have had enough courage to feel she deserve you if you both were given more time?

***

Nat was enamored the moment she met you while she was undercover as Tony’s assistant. You were unlike no other she’s ever met before. A genius in your own merit was yet content to live peacefully behind your brother’s dark and long shadow. Funny without being obnoxious. She was sure she’s in love with you when you fought side by side while infiltrating Hammer Tech. 

“I didn’t know you could fight, princess,” she teased while trying to catch her breath after taking down most of Hammer’s security. 

You rolled your eyes at her, pretending to hate that stupid pet name. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Natasha Romanoff -” you fired back. Enunciating her name indicating that her cover was blown with you for a while now. 

“Let’s change that after we’re through with this -”

A new batch of security emerges that forced you to go back to kicking ass. “Are you asking me out right now?” You punched one man on the throat, knocking him out effectively. 

Nat’s chocking another on her side of the hallway. “No better time than the present, Stark. So what do you say?” She squeezes the guy a little harder, making him go slack on her arms. Nat was just catching her breath when another man appeared behind her. She almost doubled down when you threw a knife that you procured from your knee-high boots behind her. 

“Nice -” she said a little breathless, partially from being tired and also a little turned on. 

You walked up to her to give her a hand from the floor. She took the help gratefully. “Yes.” 

Nat understood immediately. “Let’s wrap this up quickly then,” she said with a smirk. 

***

A few days after sparring with Captain Danvers at SHIELD, you visited the compound one morning to make a quick delivery. The compound was eerily quiet for eight in the morning, making you wonder if you came in too early. Your wandering stopped when you heard the hopeless clanking of pans in the kitchen. You smiled, hoping that it is who you want to see that’s making all the noise. You leaned against the doorway, watching wild red hair rummaging through the cupboards. 

“After all this time, you’re still hopeless in the kitchen,” you said to announce your presence. 

Natasha stood abruptly, bumping her head on one of the open cabinets. She turned around with a frown while clutching the top of her head. “What the hell! You scared me!” 

Her frown only deepened when you won’t stop laughing. It’s not that you didn’t want to stop, you just couldn’t. She looks so adorable with her scowl and wild bed hair bathed in the early morning sunlight streaming through the massive windows in the room. You walked towards her. 

“I’m sorry but, this isn’t my fault -” you stopped two feet away from her. “ - no one’s supposed to sneak up on the Black Widow, right?” You teased while rubbing the top of her head. 

“No Black Widow business until I have my second cup of coffee, you know the rules.”

Of course, you do. You can’t forget anything about Natasha even if you want to. 

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. You didn’t really mean to startle her - that badly. 

Nat looked at you from under her lashes, and had your knees been human they would surely buckle under that look. “Kiss it better,” she demanded.

“What are you, five?” you teased to diffuse your nervousness but, Nat can see right through you. 

“Coward.” 

You huffed before pulling her towards you and kissed the spot where she hurt herself. “There! Happy now?” 

Nat smiled. “I am now.” 

***

Before you can say anything else, the rest of the inhabitants of the compound trudges in the kitchen including Maria, Carol, and Wanda. 

“Hey.” Everyone greeted monotonously indicating that none of them are fully awake yet. You just smiled politely to everyone to give them time to fully shake the sleep off their systems. 

Sam strode in last. He was sweaty and looking alert, probably from doing his morning jog. “Y/N!” he exclaimed when he noticed you. Everyone bristled at his volume, which probably won’t be acceptable regardless of the time of the day. “What brings you around? Not that we don’t want you here. Did you finally realize that you’d like to join our team now?”

“What?” Maria asked after registering Sam’s line of questioning. 

“No offense -” 

You decided to cut Sam off there. Any sentence that starts with no offense is often kind of offensive. “No, Sam, I’m not joining the Avengers.” Maria visibly relaxes at that while Sam deflated. “I just came here today to deliver you guys this -” You fished out an envelope from the inside pocket of your brown trench coat. 

Nat who was still standing next to you reached out and took the envelope. “It’s an invitation,” she mused. Everyone’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Yes. Pepper’s throwing me a homecoming party, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no,” you smiled. “Pun not intended.” 

The kitchen erupted in excitement while freshly brewed coffee was being passed around. “This is so cool, it’s been so long since we had a Stark party,” Bruce commented, earning a soft elbow from Bucky and poorly concealed side-eyes from the girls. Bruce opened and closed his mouth, unable to form an apology. 

“It’s okay Bruce but don’t expect it to be as grand as Tony’s parties,” you said smiling. “So?”

“Count as in!” Sam jumped at the opportunity to change the topic fast. Bucky sighed, resigning to his fate. “For you, I will be there, doll.” 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

While everyone was distracted about talks of the party and what to wear, you turned towards Natasha. “You’re coming too, right, Tasha?” 

Nat smiled at the use of her nickname. You’re the only one who likes to call her that. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, princess.” 

***

The party was in full swing when the Avengers arrived at the Tower. Aside from the team, Pepper invited a select few Stark Industries people, from investors as well as your old lab team. Nat didn’t expect anyone else aside from Maria to be invited. So she was surprised to see you standing amongst Agent Colson’s team. Nat’s sure that you saw them arrive but, you made no move to excuse yourself from listening to Agent Simmon’s surely interesting story. 

Pepper did excuse herself and greeted the Avengers. “Hey!” She gave everyone a quick hug. “Traffic? Come on, let’s get you guys some refreshments.” 

“Yes! Let’s get hammered!” Sam cheered too enthusiastically. 

A couple of steps though, Pepper turned back to see the girls still rooted in their place at the doorway. “Coming, ladies?” 

“Ah, I think we would say hello to Y/N first,” Maria and Carol answered at the same time without taking their eyes off of you.

Pepper followed their love-struck gaze and chuckled. She assumed it’s a pack thing, so she didn’t bother asking Nat and Wanda anymore and just followed the boys to the catering table. Nat watched Maria and Carol strode confidently towards you, and efficiently inserting themselves into the conversation. Nat watched her girlfriends, subtly inserting their bodies on both your sides, creating a barrier between you and Agent Johnson and Agent Simmons.

***

Natasha can deal with the fact that all her girlfriends have a crush on you. She doesn’t see herself having trouble sharing you with her pack if it came to that. It’s the others she’s worried about. You’re too bright that everyone’s gravitating towards you like moths to a fire, like Icarus to the sun. All night, Nat tried to get you alone but, every time she thinks she finally does, someone else would come over and make conversations with you. 

Nat thinks you’re too polite to tell them off. So she excused herself when Agent Simmons came over to talk to you again (for the nth time that night). You smiled at her before turning back to Jenna. The bartender put four tequila shots in front of her the moment she sat on the bar. Bucky then turned to her. 

“Thought you might need a stiff drink,” Bucky grumbled over the rim of his beer bottle. Nat downed one shot before glancing in your direction. Bucky didn’t miss how the redhead’s frown dipped a little deeper. “Didn’t think you’re one to walk away when vultures are trying to snatch your girl.” 

Nat downed her second shot and slammed the glass down the counter. She’s not my girl, she thought bitterly. She knows full well that you’re not hers to hate Agent Johnson for simply wanting to be near you or for laughing at something you said and her hand landing casually on your biceps. You’re not hers for her to be jealous, she knows that painfully. 

She couldn’t watch any longer. She downed the last two shots before turning towards Bucky. “I think I’ll get some fresh air,” she whispered, eyes downcast. “Thanks, Buck.” 

Bucky only nodded before Nat hopped off her stool and walked out of the party venue. Nat didn’t turn back to see you watching her leave. 

***

Nat snugged a bottle of expensive wine from a passing staff on her way to God knows where. All she knew was that she needed to step away to clear her head or drown her feelings and her regret.

You and Nat have been casually dating for a couple of months, even with your brother’s utter disapproval of the relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were standing against your brother on a matter but that was Nat you were talking about. You weren’t going to give her up without a fight. Eventually, Tony relented but without threatening Nat that if she ever breaks your heart, she’ll be the first person on his non-existent hit list. 

Everything was fine. You both were happy until Nat suddenly decided she’s not ready. You didn’t know what happened. All you know was one day, she came back from a mission and decided she’s not ready to be tied down to one person.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’m not built for this -” she waved her hand. Indicating not only the domesticity of sharing the same living space but also everything that comes with it like building a home with another and shedding walls to letting people in. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t cry, and Nat knew you were letting her go gracefully. Even when she was breaking your heart, you were still thinking of her. “It’s okay, Tasha. I understand,” you said simply. You gave her a small smile before kissing her one last time.

Nat took a long swig of the wine before acknowledging your presence behind her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your party?” she spoke without taking her eyes off of the city skyline. The view from the rooftop of the tower was spectacular.

You chuckled nervously. Nat only goes to the rooftop when she needed to think and breathe. You wonder if you’ve done something through the night that might set her off. “I saw you leave the party, I was looking for you.”

“Why?” She took another long swig, making her head spin a little bit.

“Why not? I’ll always look for you when you’re gone.”

Nat suppressed the urged to groan, opting to chug the wine, but you were lightning fast. You caught her wrist before her lips could touch the bottle. You fished the wine out of her grasp. “What’s wrong, Tasha?”

“Nothing,” she answered automatically. Her eyes are darting back and forth from your eyes and your lips. There’s a sad, hungry look on her face you couldn’t understand. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just confront her about it when she’s not one shot away from being drunk.

“Okay, if you say so. Let’s go back inside, it’s cold out here.”

You started to walk back towards the only door to the rooftop when Nat tugged you back roughly to her. “Tasha!” you exclaimed in your surprise when she pinned you between her and the deck railing.

Nat held your eyes for a second before she laid her forehead on your shoulder. “Do you enjoy it? Having everyone wrapped around your fingers?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice. You wanted to question her about it. You want to understand what she’s talking about, but the words wouldn’t come. Especially, when you felt her turn her head slightly, and her left hand caressed your cheeks.

“I can’t get you alone all night,” she whispered as she noses her way from your jaw through your neck.

“Tasha -” God knows you tried not to make it sound like a moan, but it came out exactly like that.

The rest of the words died in your throat as you felt Nat plant the softest of kisses on your neck and her right hand found your leg through the long slit of your dress. Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold anymore. The fire that is Natasha Romanoff warmed you immensely, and you were ready to burn for her again, still.

“You were mine first,” you heard her whisper before she pulled her head away from your neck and smashed her lips against yours for a minute. Then she’s running away, again.

***

MH: Meet me at SHIELD.

WM: What’s wrong, Mar?

Nat frowned at the demanding chat from Maria. She waited patiently for an explanation; she tried not to jump to a conclusion. But at the back of her head, she prayed it’s not another alien threat. She can deal with Hydra, but she doesn’t think she has enough to give to fight and lose people to another Thanos level problem. 

MH: Y/N’s down. Otw to the lab with Happy to get started with repairs. 

Nat paled, and for a minute, she couldn’t move. Fear gripped her, the past flooding back to her.

She rushed into the hospital when she heard about the accident. Relief flooded her senses when she saw Tony and Pepper alert and awake on their hospital bed. Steve and Rhodey were already there. When the group noticed her, Tony immediately averted his eyes while Pepper started bawling. 

“Is the baby okay?” Nat asked, worried that something happened to the baby.

Silence. Nat turned to Steve and Rhodey. Rhodey just frowned, lost for words too. Steve looked like he was trying to string a sentence in his head. “I’m sorry, Nat -” 

Nat became even more confused. “For what?” she asked. “Guys, you’re scaring me.”

Tony took an audible, deep breath, catching Nat’s attention back to him. This time, he held her gaze. “Y/N’s home, Nat,” he said. “When we found out that Pepper’s pregnant, we told her, and she came home.” 

Nat didn’t know that. No one told her that you’re home, which was understandable after she broke your heart. “Okay,” she nodded. Still, a tad confused as to where this conversation was going. “Do you need me to call her for you?” 

“She’s gone, Nat -” 

“Wha -”

“She’s dead.” Tony decided it’s better to rip off the bandage clean. Pepper started sobbing again. “She was with us tonight.”

Her phone vibrated on her hand again. She looked at the message from Wanda. 

WM: Breath, Nat. She’s inhuman now. 

And at that moment, Nat was so thankful that Wanda’s an empath. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and closed her eyes for a second to center herself. When she opened her forest-green eyes, she fired a quick text to the group chat before nearly running out of the compound. 

NR: I’m on my way.

***

Nat was cursing in Russian under her breath as she power walk through the hallway of SHIELD towards the labs. She made a mistake of jumping on the first available vehicle in the compound’s parking lot, instead of using her MV Augusta F4 RR 312 motorcycle. It would have taken her to the HQ in no time. 

She was rounding the last corner before she arrived at the lab when she bumped into Happy. 

“Hey.” The man looked exhausted even though the machines in the lab did all the work, but Nat understood it completely. The idea that you got injured affects those who knew you before you were inhuman than those who knew you post-human. “I’m beat. I’m going to crash upstairs.” 

Nat nodded with a smile before adding, “thank you, Happy.” She hopes the simple words convey how much she appreciates the man for taking care of you after all this time. 

“Anything for Y/N,” Happy answered, smiling. He was almost on the other end of the hallway when he called for Nat again. Nat stopped in her tracks and look at him quizzically. “Be quiet when you get there.” 

Then he disappeared. Nat just shrugged and continued to the lab. When she got inside, she floated to the room where she knows you would be and found you sandwiched between Carol and Maria. 

“Shouldn’t you be the one sleeping?” she teased softly. You looked up when you heard her voice from the door and smiled. 

“I would if I needed one, but I don’t. You, on other hand, look like you can use a nap too.” You tried to speak as softly as you could as not to disturb your sleeping friends(?), but they still manage to stir and look at Natasha. Together they patted the only space available in the bed for her. 

Your lap. Nat quirked an eyebrow at the two before looking back at you. You smiled before raising your hand to beckon her to you. Nat decided to throw all her inhibitions to the window and gracefully climbed on the bed with you. It took a bit of squirming around to accommodate her on top of you, but you managed. Nat laid her head on where your heart should be. 

Suddenly, Nat felt exhausted. Like all the stress and emotions - the confusion, the disbelief, the longing - she desperately tried to run away from ever since she found out that you’re alive caught up to her then. Her eyes started to close as you run your fingers through her soft red hair. 

“I’m still yours,” you whispered, confident that Natasha has joined her softly snoring girlfriends in dreamland. It was quiet for a minute. The only sound in the room is the whirring of machines from the lab outside.

“I’m ready now,” Nat mumbled loud enough for you to hear before she completely went under.

[five-rivers]

Interview with a Ghost (part 5: Buried)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)

.

.

.

"What?" said Captain Jones, as Collins and Paterson finished explaining their understanding of the situation to him. "What? What?"

"That was my reaction, too," said Paterson. "Just, you know, internally."

Jones waved one hand, the other supporting his forehead.

"Er, sir?" said Collins, leaning forward, trying to catch the captain's eye. "How should we, you know, proceed on this? I don't think there's any precedent."

The captain bit back a groan. "No, there isn't. He was insistent that the Fentons, his parents, didn't do anything to him?"

"Yeah."

"But it still can't be- can't be healthy for a ghost or- or whatever he is to be there," said Jones. This was making his head hurt. "They have weapons, and even if it was an accident, he died and they- No one noticed!"

"That is pretty messed up," agreed Paterson.

"That's got to be child neglect, at least, right? Negligent homicide?"

Collins nodded. "We can't really charge them with that, though, can we? Not without revealing he's a ghost and getting the GIW and whoever stole the body coming down on us."

"That could just be something Phantom's saying, though," said Paterson. "We don't know if it's true or not."

"It felt true," said Collins. "He sounded like he was actually scared."

"But can we just let a kid- two kids, with his sister- be in a situation like that? Even if one of them is dead. Especially if one of them is dead. Or whatever Fenton, Phantom, whatever, is claiming to be."

"He didn't really claim to be anything, really," said Collins.

"Look, I already have a headache as it is. What it comes down to is, I don't want a kid to be living under the same roof as people who regularly and publicly shoot at him."

"So, what do we do?" asked Collins. "He doesn't want to leave, and I don't think we can make him, physically."

"No, we can't. But does he know that?"

"I think he's aware of his laser murder powers," said Paterson.

"He kept coming to talk to you, though," said Jones. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "There's something here..." Suddenly, it all came together. He clapped his hands. "He wants to keep his secret from the public, right? That's our leverage."

"Leverage?" asked Collins, dubiously. "Captain... he is still a teenager."

"I know, I know, but hear me out. We tell him, he has to let his parents know, and his parents, they have to make their house safe for him. If they're reasonable, they'll do it. If not, we can get them for, I don't know, going crazy and thinking their kid is a ghost, or having weapons all over their home. Obviously, he isn't. That's the position we'd maintain." Jones took a deep breath. "No need to expose him publicly, and, as long as he isn't, he'll have to act like he's human, right? If he wants to maintain the illusion?"

"I guess that would work," said Collins. "But... do we have to get child protective services involved? I don't see that going well."

"Not if everyone is reasonable," said Jones, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Hold up," said Paterson. "Doesn't this hinge on getting him to, you know, tell his parents?"

"Weapons. Home. Around children. And- We'll agree to bury the rest. Tear up documents. Hide everything. Cover for him. We already know what killed him. What's the point of bringing it into the light?"

Collins and Paterson both nodded slowly. "I'll call him," said Collins.

There was a knock on the door. The three glanced at each other.

"Come in," said the captain.

One of the officers stuck her head in. "Sir?" she said. "The mayor is here to see you."

.

Danny would have been at home, plotting with Jazz about how to get his body back, but, no, Skulker had to show up, again. He should have wrecked his suit instead of just sucking him into the thermos last night.

"Hah! Ghost child!" shouted Skulker. "Today I will have your pelt! I have new-!"

Danny screamed in frustration, the harmonics of his voice almost touching a ghostly wail. "Can you leave off about my pelt for like five seconds?" demanded Danny, attacking more aggressively than was his usual wont. One of Skulker's arms flew off his body, clattering on the tiles of a nearby roof. "Didn't you have enough of that, helping Vlad steal my corpse yesterday?" There, after days of dancing around the word, he had finally said it.

"Wait, your what?" asked Skulker, pirouetting awkwardly to avoid another barrage of ectoblasts.

"My. Corpse!" screamed Danny. "You helped him steal my corpse!"

"You don't have a corpse, you're still alive!"

"Shut up!" It was a good thing they were so far up. Even at the volumes they were speaking, they wouldn't be overheard. "You don't know anything! I'm half dead, so I have half a corpse, and I had to bury it, and then the police found it, and you helped Vlad steal it!" Danny was basically in tears at this point, hands clenching the metal of Skulker's chest so hard it buckled and warped, holding the unfortunate ghost above his head.

A number of complicated emotions passed over Skulker's face. "Uh," he said. "Time out?"

"What?" snarled Danny. He was more than ready to rip Skulker apart.

"Your body, whatever there is of it, did Plasmius really take it?"

"He basically gloated about it to my friends," said Danny.

Skulker's face twisted up, the metal plates it consisted of glinting in the sunlight. "Disturbing the remains of another ghost is... distasteful, at best." He shifted, obviously trying to get out of Danny's grip. Danny held on, tighter. "Let me go," he said. "I'll spread the word. There won't be a ghost in the Zone who'll work for Plasmius after this."

Danny sniffed. "I want it back," he said.

"Of course you do," said Skulker, nervously. "Just- let me go, alright, ghost child?" He paused. "Phantom?"

Danny relaxed his grip. Before Skulker could recover, he whipped out the thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"I'll let you go," he grumbled. "Right into the Ghost Zone."

.

Jones did not like Mayor Masters. A complete outsider, a stranger to Amity Park, the man had somehow wormed his way into the mayor's office. Jones had always suspected bribery, but had no evidence.

This visit of his... it was suspicious. Incredibly suspicious. The timing felt rotten. Masters had barely set foot inside the station before this.

Well, the timing and the questions he was asking. Jones was glad he had told everyone to deflect questions about the body and Phantom beforehand, no matter who was asking.

Jones fixed a grin onto his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Masters," he said. "We can't discuss ongoing investigations."

"I think," said Masters, "that, as mayor, I am exempt from that rule. I am, after all, your boss."

"That's true," said Jones, "but this case is especially sensitive, and everyone is a suspect."

"I can't possibly be," said Masters. "I didn't even live here two years ago. I believe you are dancing around the subject, sir. Let us not have our personal feelings get in the way of things, hm?"

This bastard- There was no way he should have known that particular detail. Not without suborning the ME or her assistant.

Or stealing the records. The initial reports had gone missing with the body, and the computer system had been hacked.

Jones pressed his teeth together so hard they ached. He could feel them grinding inside his head.

"Why don't I give you an overview of what we know so far?" he asked, voice as sweet as he could stand to make it. "We'll start with Cameron over here. He's the head of our cult division, and a real wizard with computers."

If anyone could drive the man off, it was Cameron.

.

"I didn't think babypop even had a corpse," said Ember, crossing his arms. "Are you sure he isn't just delusional?"

"He could be," said Skulker, "but that's not the point. He believes it. Do you really want to be dealing with him as a restless spirit?"

"Oh, god, no. He's already such a spoilsport. Can you imagine?" The blue flame her hair was drawn back into shuddered.

"I don't have to imagine," said Skulker. "He tore my arm off."

"He always tears your arms off," said Ember, dismissively.

"He's only going to get worse though," said Skulker, "if it really is his body. If Plasmius is doing anything to it. That anxiety. A person's body should be taken care of properly, not messed about with."

"Hey!" said Technus, who was on the other side of the room, fixing Skulker's mechanical body. "I donated MY body to SCIENCE! I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah," said Ember. "Some people would disagree with that, but the thing is you chose to do that. Those're the rites you wanted."

"Do you think I, the great TECHNUS, master of all things technological and-"

"No, actually, I don't think you knew," said Ember.

"Ohhhhh! I'll alter all your auxiliary cables, you little-!"

"Can we get back on topic?" asked Skulker, his high-pitched voice cutting above the argument. "We need to get Phantom's body back! Otherwise he'll be completely unbearable!"

The ghosts looked at each other. "Agreed," they said.

.

Danny leaned over Tucker's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he said.

"Positive," said Tucker. "Sorry, man, but Vlad's super secret super villain stuff isn't online. Your body isn't mentioned at all. Nothing is. His internet enabled stuff is all pretty bland, compared to what we know he's doing. I mean, some of it is kind of sketchy, but it just isn't the same level."

"Anything we can blackmail him with?" asked Sam.

"Not really. We can't exactly say how we got it, after all, so he'd have plausible deniability."

Danny groaned. The groan turned into a long plume of blue mist. Danny growled. "Whoever is interrupting this time-"

"Whoa, calm down, man," said Tucker. "This is pretty normal."

Danny's phone began to ring. If this was those detective he was going to-

It was Jazz. "What?" he asked.

"The ecto-exodus alarm is going off," said Jazz. "Where are you?"

"Tucker's," said Danny. "I'm going to check it out."

"Be safe. Mom and Dad are out there with blasters, and they've notified the GIW."

"Noted," said Danny. He hung up, then turned to Sam and Tucker. "This is a big one, apparently. You might want to stay in."

"Good luck with that," said Tucker, pulling a ecto-rifle from beneath his desk. "I've been wanting to try this baby out."

"Please don't name it," said Sam.

"I think I will!" said Tucker.

"Just don't shoot if we're not fighting, okay? They might not be here to cause trouble. Don't give me that look, I'm trying out some optimism."

Before his friends could say anything about that, he flew up through the roof. From there, he had no problem picking out the crowd of ghosts who had just passed by.

Skulker was leading them. Danny scowled, and flew forward to intercept them, too angry to process whether or not confronting a group of ghosts that large was wise.

"Hey!" he shouted. "I thought you said you'd leave!"

"Chill, babypop!" shouted Ember. "You're a cold core, aren't you? We're here to get your body back."

That brought Danny up short. "Wait, really?"

The other ghosts, largely the rabble of the Wastes, the region of the Ghost Zone right outside the Fenton portal, gave a ragged sort of cheer.

"Yeah. And trash Plasmius's crap."

"Oh," said Danny, taken aback. "He has a ghost shield around his mansion, you know. A human shield, too, before you say I can get past that."

Poindexter floated up, over the mass of the crowd. "He can't keep them up all the time, can he?" he asked adjusting his glasses.

"No, I guess he can't. One sec." He pulled out his phone. "Hey, Tucker, can you find out where Vlad is right now?"

.

"... and these are the cults that believe ghosts are divine messengers, there's a lot of variety in them, too," Cameron was saying, pointing eagerly at his computer screen.

"Excuse me," said Vlad. "But I don't see how this is relevant. At all. To anything."

"Oh, it's very important," said Collins, nodding sagely. "We got some of our best leads in this case from the cults."

Cameron beamed.

"I am myself quite familiar with the local cults," said Vlad. "If they become relevant, I'm sure I can come back to-"

"No, no, Mr. Mayor," said Paterson, "you won't understand without context."

"I-"

Several dozen ghosts suddenly entered through the roof. Everyone dove for cover.

"Hiya, grave robbers!" shouted a ghost with fiery blue hair. Ember McClain. "Or one grave robber in particular."

Actually, come to think of it, she'd masqueraded as a human for a while, too. Collins was going to have a crisis about how easily ghosts could blend in with humans at some point in the near future. Not today, but before the end of the week. He'd need to talk to a shrink. Preferably one who wasn't a ghost.

Oddly, the ghosts weren't attacking.

The sound of Mayor Masters clearing his throat issued from behind a sizable desk. "What are you here for?" he asked.

"You know, grave robber. We've got a bone to pick with you, until you give back what you took."

A few feet away from Collins, Jones inhaled deeply. He stood up. Collins resisted the urge to drag him back down.

"We don't have Phantom's body," said Jones, "if that's what you're here for."

"We know," said Ember. "That's what this's about. We know who took it, and we don't want to deal with Phantom while he's freaking out over some jerk having his body. So. We're giving an ultimatum-"

"Hey, guys," said Phantom's voice. "I found the shield deactivation button. It was in his car, next to his garage door opener."

"Oh, cool. You trash his car?"

"Nah, I let these little gremlin dudes do it. They looked like they were having fun."

"Whatever, babypop. Let's go get your body!"

As quickly as they came, the ghosts were gone.

Mayor Masters swore, and started for the door.

"Hold up," said Jones, putting a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"To call some competent ghost hunters, since those menaces are clearly after my belongings!"

"Nuh uh," said Jones. "We've got some questions for you."

"Yeah," said Collins, "like why you seem to think that they're going to your house, when they could have been talking about anyone."

"Wow!" said Cameron, smiling. "That was exciting! I'm glad I was livestreaming, like you told me to, Paterson!"

"Well," said Vlad. He paused. "I need to call my lawyer."

"Better make sure they're a competent one," mocked Jones.

.

Collins was surprised when Phantom materialized in the middle of the room with a long, dark plastic body bag in his arms. So were most people. Across the room, next to the coffee machine, one of his more caffeine-addicted coworkers do a spit take, and Jones burst out of his office in an avalanche of paperwork.

"I want a burial," said Phantom, finally. "A real one, this time."

Silence.

"I think I can arrange that," said Captain Jones.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

if you have a question about aussie slang, for a fic or whatevs, please just ask i don't know all of it, but we do have some fun words and sayings that are day to day statements

esp. the more rural you go

not everyone has the full accent though, because you do get a lot of pressure at work to come across... professional or whatever.

the only one i've never been sure of being an Actual Phrase, or if it Became A Phrase after popularisation on a tv show, is "Stone the Flaming Crows" bc a dude from Neighbours used to say it frequently.

examples of day to day stuff i can think of right now

mad as a frog in a sock (angry about something, went off, off the shits)

mad as a cut snake (usually means 'they're nuts', but can also mean they exploded with anger, usually contextual)

she'll be right (it's fine - can be a flippant statement, can be reassurance, etc)

drongo / galah - (idiot, not very smart, wanker, etc)

dunny = toilet

thunderbox/outhouse / long-drop - usually outdoor toilet

dry as a nun's nasty / dry as a dead dingo's donger (I am thirsty, or It Is Hot AF/we need rain so bad)

chuck a u-ey (do a u-turn)

Oi! (Hey I want your attention/i was surprised, general exclamation, stop that, you are in a lot of fucking trouble mate - depends on the tone of voice and volume) like "OI!" says aunty ruth has just found her dentures in jello and she knows you did it, etc

Bugger off (go away, or sometimes a statement of disbelief)

Yeah nah /Nah yeah (can mean yes, no or maybe depending on what was said directly before the statement)

you cant pull the wool over my eyes - you can't lie to me like that / i can see you are not telling the truth

shut your gob / put a sock in it / put a cork in it - (shut up / shut the FUCK up / close your mouth or i will shut it for you) depends on tone

Ya wally (you idiot)

Roo = kangaroo

o = can be affixed to anything to shorten it at the servo - gone to the service station, arvo - afternoon, smoko - morning tea, bottlo - where the grog is

goon/goonsack - wine in a box

grog - alcohol

stubbie - beer, ususally

boardies - board shorts

rashie - swimming shirt,

slip, slop, slap - ancient proverb for avoiding sunburn. singing pelican.

thongs - footwear

sheila = female / woman, don't hear this a lot at the moment tbh except in certain contexts or from specific people

'Getting rowdy' = things are heating up, people are riled up, a fight is about to/has just broken out, etc.

DJ's like a mad cunt = one very specific meme about a bad PM we had like 10 years ago. i can't tell you how many PM's ago, it's been game of thrones here lmao

Beyond the black stump / Out whoop-whoop / references to timbuktu (quite a distance away)

strewth!/crickey!/bloody hell - (exclamation of surprise, expletive replacement, etc)

flat out like a lizard drinking (tired / drunk / exhausted / sleeping)

pull a harry holt - (I've heard a dozens variations of this one, it means Go Missing / Disappear, often used as a joke. PM Holt went swimming one day and disappeared)

have a stickybeak (to poke your nose in/investigate/look around)

chuck a wobbly/throw a tanty/chuck a tanty/throw a wobbly (throw a tantrum, i have legit never seen anyone successfully deescalate a situation by telling someone not to chuck a wobbly or throw a tanty, go figure lmao)

bogan - (very specific kind of low-income, generally white, people. sort of like rednecks, but with more stereotypical aussie features like a mullet, singlet tops, sunnies, stubbies, etc. tend to fall under the liberal party ideology - who are our republicans... )

ankle-biters / rugrats / little takkers / gremlins / nippers - (kids, usually the littler ones)

tiff - argument, small fight (had a tiff, had a row)

pav = pavlova

piss/whizz/take a piss = going to pee

vegemite - delicious

Kiwi = New Zealander

Banana benders - the disrespectful bs that apparently other states call anyone living in Queensland, the wankers

station - farming areas that have sheep or livestock usually, have farmhands etc.

dole bludger(s) - (anyone on Centrelink, whether they want to be or not, with no other employment. but like, a lot of people on centrelink have a job that does not cover enough and need additional financial supports to meet a minimum wage, or are students or apprentices, etc. there are people who go on centrelink on and off to avoid engaging in the jobseeking stuff, they are the real dole bludgers, but a lot of richer people tend to call anyone on 'welfare' bludgers)

don't you come the raw prawn with me - (do not lie to me / don't try that shit with me, mate / I wasn't born yesterday /etc)

dak/dack - to dack someone is to come up behind them and yank their pants down (or skirts). Often taking out your boxers, too.)

budgie smugglers - (speedoes, male swimwear)

togs/toggs or cozzie (swimwear, any kind. cozzie = costume)

mozzie - (mosquito)

better than a kick up the backside /better than a kick in the arse - (pretty self explanatory, one of those phrases parents use to get slightly hurt kids to start laughing and/or coworkers to commisserate about new work rules, etc)

I wouldn't piss on (name) if they were on fire - (self-explanatory, you hate them, or they're a useless tit or an insufferable person /a suckup etc, and you would gladly hand them a match)

one for the road = getting a drink for the road, usually. can also make a joke of it like, "one last piss for the road" = I'm going to the bathroom before I leave

here's your handbag, what's your hurry - probs not an aussie phrase but a common joke in my family

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

So like, there's some words and items from Australian Indigenous culture that often get used wrong in stereotypical characters, like saying 'gone walkabout', using 'cooee', making digeridoo jokes, and making some really uncomfy 'savages' statements can be very disrespectful. You might want to go looking into Australia's fucked up policies and historical (and only recent) situations before starting any arguments about this stuff... in many ways it mirrors the cruelty of american colonisers to native american peoples, etc.

Avoid some phrases. Your character gone to cool their head? He's gone off on to soak his head, or he's on his bike (gone away) but he'll be back... You can use 'Oi, dickhead!'

Please don't mock the names of towns or places, they are often the names from the traditional custodians and inhabitants.

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

Random things:

We drive on the left side of the road, driver's side reversed.

More of our cars are automatic than manual. Utes aren't atypical, but bigger vehicles are out in rural areas because more than a few of the rural roads are poorly maintained or dirt, with potholes that yoyo your soul into your body.

If you have a character on a long drive on a non-highway, or rural road: +if you are on a one-lane road and someone is comingthe other way, you both move half-on, half-off; for big vehicles or trucks, you can choose to pull off completely and stop. Just for safety, esp. in rain, fog, mist or late at night. +at one-lane bridges, you have a give way sign on one side. if you want your characters to have a moment of 'pause to look at each other while driving' or 'a quiet moment of reflection', have them wait for another car or truck to pass from the other side. These can be a few metres long, to like, a really long bridge. +They may pass markers that say 'flood level marker' with numbers of 2, 3 or 5 metres. Could be useful to remark on if your fic needs a reason for them to have a crisis. +Bushfire warning signs (from Low to Catastrophic) are frequent +Animal Crossing signs are very frequent, and often have a wildlife rescue number on them +Water restriction signs are in most small towns, they range from levels 1 to 6. This can change what the characters are allowed to do with water in little towns, etc. +You may occasionally find a small servo and one or two houses. +pubs don't open/won't serve alcohol until after 10am. the joke has always been, 'beer on your cornflakes' but you will never be able to actually get that unless you preplanned the night before in your hotel room. +Around dawn and dusk, a lot of animals like hares, kangaroos, wallabies, sometimes echidnas and koalas and little numbat things, and snakes and bushmice will be close to the road. Sometimes dashing across. They do not react logically to cars approaching, and will leap out at random. Hares do this zigzag nonsense. If you need the character to hit the brakes frantically, or swerve, this is a good reason. If you are ever driving here and see an animal on the side of the road, flip lights to low beam, slow down and watch to see how they react. If you can. If there's a truck blaring down on you, you may not be able to.

+Emus are in more rural areas. Echidnas sometimes appear on fringes of towns though.

+Kookaburras are a lovely creature, I have rescued a few and they are nice... but their laugh is very grating when it goes off super early in the morning. They eat snakes (good) and baby birds (not so good).

+Lots of snakes round here. LOTS. Carpet Snakes are pretty common, red-belly black snakes, eastern brown (big danger!!!), whip snakes have declined in my region, keelback snakes, this one black and white banded one we found deceased, etc. Snakes can climb, snakes can SWIM. Putting something that stinks around a campsite MAY help, but not always.

+Never go swimming in a dam you don't own, and that hasn't been checked, and if no one knows where you are. How deep is it? What's on the bottom? How stirred is the water? etc.

+Kangaroos CAN drown you. They have perfected this attack, and will do it to humans, dogs and other pursuers alike. They can also eviscerate you with their hind paws or shatter your ribs with a kick. The 'boxing' they do is exceptionally violent. This seems to surprise people, but like, giraffes can kill each other by slamming their heads into each other, you think a 7 ft swole motherfucking cryptid can't do harm? They can be lovely tho, if they trust you. But DO NOT GO PETTING WILDLIFE.

+Dropbears, austrilanicus vericanthus bitus, are real. We do make jokes about them, but they are a Problem. The pee on yourself thing won't ward them off, that's more about working out which tourists are the most gullible (and if they run with it, the moistest) lmao. Akubras and other thicker-layered headwear,

+We have wild dogs and feral pigs. Do not fuck with the feral pigs, some are HUGE, and no... they're not just pigs who escaped farms, these are MASSIVE motherfuckers who will Get You if they See You. Rustling in the night outside the tent? Good Luck.

+Koalas should not be picked up directly. They have claws, and a lot of them have chamydia. I mean if a character saves one in a fic that's fine I guess, but like... someone's getting antibiotics after that lmao. They are bigger than you think, dumber than you think, and sometimes they have to be chased across a highway with a windscreen cover bc they're not very bright and keep failing to climb metal fences, lmaoooo

+Towns of about 20-30k will have more shops (some franchise, some local owned), servos, fast food places and usually at least two to three shopping centres. Usually small level entertainments like a cinema, or local groups. +Towns with 10-20k, may have one or two major shopping centres, servos (tracks and RVs catered to), possibly a maccas, and the majority of stores will be local-owned. May have a cinema, but not one that has the newest releases. Local council may have more festivals, or 'that one thing they're known for'. +0-10k towns have a small local store, prices usually a bit higher. A servo, often with capacity for trucks. Local festivals. Characters can cop a bit of side-eye in these places, esp. if they don't fit the traditional ideas or are loud/violently american. +Grey nomads are a thing. Old people with fancy caravans who drive So Slow, and move all around aus. Several refused to stop during covid and it was like, WHO DO YOU THNK WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP ALIVE BY STOPPING YOU MOVING THROUGH MULTIPLE TOWNS???

+Some rural areas have legit red dirt, its always super cool to look at. Some places have light brown to dark brown, some have more chalky colours or yellowish dirt. Depends.

+Reminder: Australia has very specific gun laws, if your character/s have weapons then they may need to be sneaky or store them specifically in the vehicle. Although if you're talking about like, mad max type rules, then who cares. But if you have them get into a gun fight in a town, the police will come, etc.

Dunno, just ask if you have a question... just trying to think of random things to paint a picture if you have a character over here for a roadtrip or mission or whatever.

[skgway]

1823 Aug., Fri. 29

6

10 55/60

Very comfortable bed, and slept well till 5 20/60, at which time it was raining heavily downstairs and in the stable at 7 1/4 everything ready, but it rained so much (began at 3 1/2 they said and was incessant till after 9) I determined to stay breakfast, and set off at 9 or 10 – 

Took upMog’s edition of Patterson’s roads published London 1822. Saw Shibden hall inserted according to the letter I wrote mentioning its situation – Then took up volume 1 Miss Benger’s life of Mary Queen of Scots and read the first 50 pages. 

Sat down to breakfast (boiled milk and hot rolls) at 8 1/2 – It just then occurred to me that the last time I was in this room (the ground floor parlour on the left entering the Bridgewater) was with M– [Mariana] on the night of the 9th of March 1816. 

A host of reflections crowded on me – I felt the tear starting and my heart grow sick. ‘How foolish,’ said I, then sank into the thought that my knowing her had perhaps been the ruin of my health and happiness. She has not the heart to suit me. Perhaps I should not be happy with [her], yet almost foolish, [w/c]ould not be so without. I had almost said, ‘Oh, that I had not a heart,’ but God be merciful to me a sinner, and enable me to fix it. Here alone true joys are to be found. 

How very little π [Mariana] guesses what passes within me. I do not blame her. Heaven has not given her that sweet sensibilit soul of the soul after which my spirit panteth, likes the hart after the water brook and than which nothing less can satisfy a romantic and the enthusiastic mind like mine. To π [Mariana], if I shewed myself more openly I should be an enigma. She could not understand. We have not much fellowship in feeling, yet am I attached to her. Alas, I see more and more plainly, too deeply for my own happiness. 

Were I to tell her the effect of this three step business, she could not comprehend it. She would think it perhaps unforgivingness of temper rather than that wound at heart which festers unseen. It has taught me that tho she loves me, it is without that beautiful romance of sentiment that all my soul desires. But mine are not affections to be returned in this world. Oh that I could turn them with virtuous enthusiasm to that being who gave them. 

O Mary, Mary! You have enticed me with the glimpse of happiness and my heart has pursued the ignis fatuus till retreat is impossible or vain – But no more –

Left Manchester at 9 25/60 (the roads very heavy with the rain) and stopt at the Wellington Inn, Rochdale, at 11 35/60 – Fair the 1st 7 miles but rained the last 4 (of the 11 Manchester to Rochdale) – Went into the stable for a minute or 2, then sat down and mused and wrote all the above of today which took me till 12 3/4 (Shibden). Took a little nap – Had ordered George to let us be off in 2 hours but he was out, and 25 minutes beyond his time, and we were not off till 2 –

From 2 55/60 to 3 1/2 walked, and made George lead Caradoc, from the mound and while rails across the valley (perhaps 1/2 mile on this side of Littlebro’) to the Inn at the top of Blackstone edge – Stopt there 5 minutes and gave Caradoc some oatmeal and water – Then pursued our journey, and got home in 3 3/4 hours at 5 3/4, i.e. just before it struck 6 by the kitchen clock –

It rained pretty smartly all the time we were at Rochdale till about the last 1/2 hour when it cleared up and we had no rain afterwards – A fine evening too – My father and Marian called after tea and staid about an hour –

Told my uncle and aunt Mr. Simmons thought he could cure me, but could answer for it better if I was in Manchester under his own eye for 2 or 3 weeks – My aunt wanted me to give up going to Scarbro’ and York, and go to Manchester immediately – This I, of course, decline, saying I may perhaps be able to do without going to M– [Mariana] at all –

Barometer at changeable or rather above Fahrenheit 57º at 9 p.m. at which hour came up to bed – Put by my things etc. and wrote the last 9 lines of today – 4 letters waited my arrival –

Nothing can be better done than the new road from Littlebro’ to the top of Blackstone edge – From the very foot of the hill to about 100 yards from the Inn at the top are 15 white-painted black-capped stone posts as guides, I suppose, when the road is covered with snow – They were 149 strides apart (supposing them to be as as they look, at equal distances) perhaps these 149 strides might be about 100 yards or not much more –

It was at the 14th stone that I met M– [Mariana] last Tuesday week – This struck me forcibly – I had been thinking of the thing before – Indeed not a day scarcely an hour has passed since it happened, without its occuring to me in 1 shape or other – Oh! that I could forget it altogether – But I know and feel this cannot be – My memory is too obstinate for me –

3 of the letters came yesterday from M– [Mariana] (York); from Miss Vallance (Sittingbourne) and from Radford the Tailor (“ 27 Piccadilly removed from 188 Fleet street London”) the other letter (from Radford acknowledging the receipt of the draft) came this morning –

M– [Mariana]’s letter (2 1/4 pages hurried) written the very day (Wednesday) my letter to her would get to Scarbro’, on which day she seems to have been setting off for that place, having waited to take her father and mother within the carriage Eliza and Lou on the box and the 2 little Whites and her and Watson her servants in a hack chaise – Mrs. B– [Belcombe] seized with Cholera morbus on Sunday “which alarmed us much for a few hours, but it soon subsided”.... “however she is quite well” – Dr. B– [Belcombe] 

“in very low spirits about himself and I really think there is much cause even now to feel alarmed about him – His mind seems to have suffered, and when there is anything to be done he seems quite bewildered” –

M – [Mariana] not quite so well as she was – The moorgame arrived safe on Sunday – Dr. B– [Belcombe] appeared pleased with the attention – M– [Mariana] was to have written on Tuesday “but Bell came over and nothing could be done” –

3 pages crossed and the ends from Miss V– [Vallance] I must write to her very soon – She says my last is dated 14 February –

“Does your remembrance of your confiding friend ever cross your mind? Has her fate ceased to interest? Is her form forgotten? Her faults and sorrows faded from from your heart?” …. 

I must write – She is still in a very bad state of health – Gives a high character of her brother William’s bride – vide the latter 1/2 the crossing of page 2 and the former 1/2 of page 1 vide page 2 

“Memory often carried me to Langton – and recalls our wandering to Birdsall, the wold etc. etc. ...... those steps so well remembered, so fondly recorded in my bosom”.... 

Flll [full] well i remember my style of conversations. Does she too? Is it not evident she will listen again and grant all I ask as before? – At page 3

 “I hope to see Langton at no very distant time and I hope most earnestly to see you there” –

Surely the crossing above referred intelli[gi]bly marks her preference towards me and might warrant my taking gently any liberties I chose. She says, or strongly insinuates, that she and I think and feel more in unison than I suppose. Surely this is no cold water on anything that has passed between us – I have always maintained a lady cannot love sufficiently a second time. It is respecting this she owns my opinion, “founded on a knowledge of human nature in general” but consider herself an exception –

Radford’s 1st letter is to acknowledge the receipt of my 1st…. 

“as our business is conducted solely on the principle of ready money we cannot send goods to strangers in the country without 1st receiving a remittance to amount of ordered goods” … 

Strangers is in the original, strange ladies in the country – Referred to their “order book” and found my measure etc. etc. I could not help laughing –

The 2nd letter a respectful acknowledgment of the draft – The coat to be sent by “the York coach that leaves the Golden and Saturday morning at six” that I am expected to have it early on Sunday morning –

vide line 23 the last page the weather, what kept me up so long etc. – E [two dots, treating venereal complaint] O [one dot, signifying little discharge] A lit[t]le not much –

[sideways in margin] Rochdale

[sailorspazz]

[Fanfic] Internal Rhythms

Yup, my 10 Dance obsession has reached the point where I need to create fan works, since there’s so little out there (I don’t understand, this manga started 9 years ago, where are all the fics and fanarts?! There’s not even much in Japanese!)

Title: Internal Rhythms

Series: 10 Dance

Rating: M (for sexual content)

Words: 5,200

Summary: Suzuki and Sugiki are having issues syncing with each other's rhythms while practicing the quickstep. Sugiki's suggestion for how to get back in tune ends up pushing their relationship to a place it has never gone before.

Where to read: Posted on fanfiction.net and ao3. Or just stay here and click below!

Ah shit, here we go again…Somehow, I’ve wound up falling into a tiny fandom that has barely any fan works, so I guess I have to help fix that :P Since 10 Dance is an ongoing series, I actually have tons of speculative ideas/headcanons developing for what could happen, but for now I’m content to wait and see what direction the story heads in. Instead, I’ve chosen to write a smutty one-off based on chapter 32; though there are some details referenced from that chapter, if you’ve at least read through the end of volume 5, you should have enough context for where their relationship currently stands (as in, they definitely wouldn’t be messing around with each other at this point…and yet, I still couldn’t stop my dirty mind from imagining scenarios where they push things further >:D). Hope you enjoy this take on what could’ve gone down during a late-night training session!

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The wall clock inside the Sugiki Dance School struck 1:20am as both Shinyas took a few final sips of water and prepared to start their usual overnight practice session. Though at first it had felt awkward to spend so many hours together even after they had chosen to no longer pursue their romance, they had been able to effectively push their feelings aside and maintain a professional training partnership—even as both were keenly aware that those desires still remained simmering just under the surface.

“Alright, let’s give the quickstep another shot,” Suzuki stated as he walked over to where Sugiki stood loosening the top buttons of his shirt. “We lost out on practice time yesterday since our rhythms were off or whatever, so we gotta make up for it today.” He was eager to finish learning the basics of all five standard dances so he could spend the remaining months before the 10 Dance perfecting his movements and refining his style.

“Indeed. Let’s waste no time getting started, then.” They joined hands, and Sugiki instinctively closed his eyes as Suzuki’s arm wrapped around him and pulled him snug against his body. He began to hum a tune, as he knew his late-night partner benefitted from having music to dance to, and they started to move. Though they started out smoothly, it was not long before their feet were clearly moving at different paces, causing them to nearly trip and fall before catching themselves in each other’s arms.

“Dammit. Not again,” Suzuki sighed in frustration as he broke out of hold. “Why’s this happening now? We’ve never had this issue before. Not even right after…” He trailed off, not wanting to bring up the breakup that still felt too raw and heartbreaking to talk about a couple of months after it had occurred.

“I believe it is simply the nature of this dance. Since it relies so heavily on the two dancers being in sync with one another and dancing as one, any variance in their internal rhythms can throw it entirely off balance.”

“I get that, but do you got any bright ideas for how to fix this, Mr. ‘standard expert’? Has it happened before with other partners?”

“It has, and the solution was…well…” He paused a moment, looking slightly amused by the memories he was recalling. “When it occurred with partners I was romantically involved with, we would express our intimacy to get back in tune with each other.”

“What, you mean fuck?” Suzuki said bluntly.

“Eloquent as always, aren’t you?” he replied with a chuckle. “It needn’t go that far in most cases. Usually just a simple kiss would suffice.”

Suzuki found himself dwelling on Sugiki’s implication that he had dated more than one of his previous partners. “Just how many partners did you…ya know what, never mind.” Though he already suspected it was true, getting confirmation that Sugiki had a tendency to fall for his partners would make what they had shared feel less special.

“I have never shared that sort of relationship with Ms. Yagami, I can assure you.”

His response was not assuring in the slightest. “Yeah, thanks, but I wasn’t worried about you getting busy with your married partner. It just seems like you…” Suzuki stopped himself from finishing his thought, as he was still concerned that the answer to his earlier unfinished question was one he did not want to know. “Whatever, I said forget it already.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sugiki retorted, not allowing the subject to be dropped just yet. “I’m quite certain that percentage-wise, you have been involved with more of your partners than I have.”

Suzuki looked flabbergasted at this accusation. While it was true that he had had romances with one hundred percent of his partners, when that number only amounted to two people when he included the man in front of him, it was hardly a fair comparison. “Are you shitting me? Don’t go twisting this around to make me look bad! You know damn well I’ve…” Before he got too far into his tirade, he noticed the satisfied smirk Sugiki was wearing. Clearly he was riling him up on purpose for his own amusement, and Suzuki had unwittingly fallen into his trap—though there was a part of him that did not mind being baited by him, and it was something he had actually missed when their relationship had been in a more fragile place following their separation. “This ain’t helping solve our problem, smartass. You got any solutions that’re actually useful?”

“We could try it,” Sugiki murmured under his breath, just barely loud enough for Suzuki to hear.

“Huh?” Suzuki wondered if he was really implying what he assumed he was, but was almost afraid to ask. “What exactly do you wanna try out?”

Sugiki met his eyes with an expression that to most would come across as stoic, but because they had spent so much time together, he could see a twinge of heartache behind it. “We shared a romantic bond before. Perhaps we could realign if we connected in that manner once more, however briefly.”

The acknowledgment that he was suggesting exactly what he had suspected caused Suzuki’s heart to leap. Despite continuing to share incredibly close contact every night as they practiced, neither one had broken down and expressed the desire to rekindle the affectionate side of their bond, even though it was something they could mutually sense from each other through their touch. Now Sugiki had finally gone and voiced it aloud, and Suzuki did not know how to feel, his elation being tamped down by the memories of how badly things had ended before. But he found he could not just shoot down this suggestion outright. “So…you’re saying we should make out?” he asked incredulously.

“It can be much chaster than that. Perhaps just a light kiss would do the trick, like the ones you gave me to help loosen me up during our early Latin sessions.”

His face now looked inscrutable, to the point where Suzuki could not tell if he actually thought this would be helpful, or if he was just looking for an excuse to kiss him. However, there was a growing part of him that did not even care if it were the latter. We really shouldn’t do this, he thought to himself. But his inner doubts did not match the words that came out of his mouth. “Well…if you think it’s worth a shot, then…”

Suzuki sauntered closer to Sugiki. As they stood facing each other, both looked unsure if they should actually go through with this. It was an unfamiliar awkward tension that neither wished to endure any longer, so the two began leaning their faces toward one another. However, Suzuki noticed something and grabbed Sugiki’s face, squishing his cheeks with his hands. “Hold up, what’s this I see?” he asked suspiciously, peering into his partner’s mouth. “Looks like the tip of your tongue is poking out awful far for someone who was just gonna kiss me lightly.”

“And what about you, Suzuki-sensei?” Sugiki brought his thumb up to the other man’s mouth and ran it gently across his bottom lip. “I was peeking as well, and those lips of yours were parted quite wide.”

Neither could truly be upset at the other since both were guilty of the same offense. Which made it even clearer that it would be incredibly difficult to restrain themselves and keep to just the gentle kiss they had agreed upon. Suzuki knew this meant they needed to stop, but as he stared into his partner’s yearning eyes, he found it impossible to turn away. He wanted him, he had missed sharing this with him, and he could not allow this opportunity to slip away, even if he knew he might regret it later. “Ah, fuck it,” he mumbled as he slipped his hand around and clutched the back of Sugiki’s head, smashing their lips together forcefully. They quickly locked together in a tight embrace, their tongues thrusting vigorously into each other’s mouths. As ballroom professionals, they had previously compared their make out sessions to different styles of dance: sometimes their tongues slid smoothly together in a gentle foxtrot, at other times they undulated in a sensual rumba. This time, as months of pent-up passion poured out of each of them, it was more like an unconventional paso doble between two matadors battling for dominance.

Why’s it so easy to fall right back into this? And why does it feel so good with him? Suzuki wondered as they continued their maddening yet thrilling dance, relishing the feeling of Sugiki’s fingers twisting through his hair and tugging at his curls. Though in the past he had been more accustomed to romantic partners who would yield to him, there was something about the aggressive push and pull between the two of them that was undeniably appealing—in fact, he even preferred it now.

Sugiki began sucking on the tip of Suzuki’s tongue, causing a moan to slip out. Shit, this is getting out of hand. The urges he had harbored before about ravishing his late-night partner were coming back in full force; he needed to end this before he tried something regrettable again. Against the will of his body that was screaming for more, he managed to dislodge his tongue from Sugiki’s mouth and pull his face back. They breathed heavily as they gazed at each other, and Sugiki made a move toward him again, but Suzuki turned his face so the other man’s lips landed on his cheek instead. Sugiki seemed to accept this alternative, and placed a sequence of tender kisses along his jawline. “I knew this was a bad idea,” Suzuki lamented with a deep sigh.

“Why do you say that?” Sugiki whispered, pressing his lips to Suzuki’s ear.

“’Cause it’s gonna be really hard to stop now.”

“Indeed, I can see how…hard it is,” Sugiki noted with a sly glance downward. “That’s quite a bomer you’re sporting.”

Suzuki’s face turned red, though he also snorted out a laugh. “I seriously can’t tell if you’re fucking with me at this point, or you really don’t know that word. It’s boner.”

“Ah, right.” The sexual tension between them had cooled a bit during this brief exchange, but Sugiki found himself still craving more of his Latino partner. The fact that July was fast approaching and Norman would soon be arriving to take over Suzuki’s coaching made him truly want to make the most of the remaining time they had together. He was on the verge of suggesting something they had never done before, but struggled as he weighed his desires against logic telling him they should not take this any further. “It would be difficult for you to attempt to dance in that state. Perhaps…” His uncertainty caused him to trail off without finishing his proposal.

“Ah, y-yeah,” Suzuki laughed awkwardly. “I guess I could take a break and…”

Before he could walk away, Sugiki grabbed his arms and held him in place. “Perhaps,” he started again, sounding more confident this time as he met his partner’s eyes. “I could…take care of it for you.”

Suzuki’s eyes widened in disbelief. For one, he had never seen someone offer to get him off while wearing such a gravely serious expression. But more importantly, the fact that he was making this offer now when they had never gone beyond kissing was completely unexpected. And he knew allowing this to happen could jeopardize the comfortable working relationship they had developed with each other. Despite that, something awakened in him at the sound of the other Shinya’s words, and there was no way in hell he was going to turn him down. His mental state quickly switched over to the seductive mode that he typically got into when he went out to pick up women—though ever since their trip to Blackpool early in the year when he had started to recognize his feelings for Sugiki, he had actually not slept with anyone at all, and was currently in the longest dry spell of his adult life. Even if they were never officially dating, and even after their romance ended, it would have almost felt like cheating since he had sincerely fallen in love with him. A sensual grin spread across his face, his eyes half-lidded as he softly stroked Sugiki’s cheek. “Oh yeah? How do you plan to do it?” he purred flirtatiously.

Sugiki shivered as he was taken in by the sudden shift in Suzuki’s mannerisms. He did not give him an answer, but instead kept his eyes locked with his partner’s as he dropped down to his knees and reached for the waistband of Suzuki’s pants.

Suzuki raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t willing to do that.”

“Certainly not under the circumstances you presented me with before. That would have been highly undignified,” Sugiki explained in an agitated tone. “Under the right conditions, though, I don’t have a problem with it.” He pulled Suzuki’s pants down to his lower thighs, then slipped his hand through the opening in his underwear, pulling out his erection.

Suzuki chuckled as he noticed that, though Sugiki seemed to be willing himself to keep his expression as calm as possible, his eyes told the story of a man suddenly feeling apprehensive as he held another man’s dick in his hand for the first time in his life. “You say you’re fine with this, but it’s not like you’ve done it before.”

“Yes, well…” He did not finish his reply aloud, but thought to himself, For you—and only you—I’m willing to try just about anything. His hunger for this man had compelled him to push things further than he had intended, but at this point he could not back down. He gave Suzuki’s member some soft strokes with his hand, feeling it grow bigger and firmer. He brought his lips forward and placed them gently on the tip, then poked his tongue out and swirled it in circles around the head. He was stalling a bit due to his hesitation, and he knew Suzuki could sense that as he stared down at him in anticipation, so it was time to take the plunge. He moved forward and slipped the head of Suzuki’s erection into his mouth. He sucked lightly as he pressed him just a bit deeper inside, moving back and forth slowly as he got used to the sensation of having a foreign appendage inside his mouth. Once he got a bit more comfortable, he removed his hand and pushed further yet again, reaching a place where he had most of Suzuki’s length in his mouth. He began to relax a bit, and his head movements went from halting and erratic to smooth and consistent.

Holy shit, this is really happening. Suzuki closed his eyes and exhaled a lustful sigh. I can’t believe I’m getting a blowjob from a guy. He smirked as he thought on it further. No, not just any guy. The Shinya Sugiki. The Emperor. A man who sits near the top of the world, down on his knees for me. Fuck, that’s hot. The ego boost he got from this realization aroused him even further, making him want to feel the sensation of being completely enveloped by his partner. He gripped Sugiki’s hair and tried to hold him in place while shifting his hips forward, but Sugiki’s hand flew up and gripped the base of his shaft, preventing him from going any deeper. He shot a warning glare up at Suzuki, but did not stop what he was doing, now using his hand in conjunction with his mouth to stroke and suck him simultaneously. It seemed the balance of power was an issue between them, as it always had been; even though Sugiki had put himself in a vulnerable position, he still wanted to remain in control. Suzuki could respect that need, and though he still kept his hand resting on his partner’s head, he merely ran his fingers through his hair rather than made further attempts to steer his actions through force.

Suzuki recalled that the reason this had all started was because of their mistimed internal rhythms. There was certainly no more intimate demonstration of one’s rhythm than what Sugiki was doing to him currently, so he decided to concentrate on the pace of his partner’s actions. As soon as he put his focus on it, he was struck by how even and steady it was. Like a piece of music…oh my god, what if he’s playing a waltz in his head? A chuckle nearly escaped him, but he bit down hard on his lip to hold it back. Nah, he doesn’t even need music. He’s probably doing it to the count. One two three, four five six, one two three…it’s like I’m getting blown by a metronome. That mental image made him snicker aloud, causing Sugiki to stop and peer up at him quizzically. “Sorry, sorry. I just…thought of something weird.” He could tell from the look in his eyes that Sugiki was miffed that he was letting his mind wander when he was going extremely far out of his comfort zone to do this for him, so Suzuki felt the need to encourage him a bit. “Please don’t stop. It really does feel amazing.” Though he still looked slightly wary, Sugiki quickly got back into the same rhythm he had been using before. Clearly, thinking about anything was only going to get Suzuki in trouble, so he chose to just relax and enjoy Sugiki’s efforts.

Though the pace he was keeping felt good, it was not quite reaching the speed Suzuki would need to finish. The situation already felt delicate, and he did not want to seem like he was making demands of his partner, so instead of saying anything, he used the fingers resting on Sugiki’s head to gently tap out a faster rhythm. He immediately picked up on what Suzuki was subtly requesting of him, and altered his pace accordingly. Sugiki’s other hand reached around to squeeze one of his partner’s well-muscled ass cheeks. His fingers slipped ever closer toward the center, an avenue Suzuki was not ready to explore. “H-hey,” he protested firmly, causing Sugiki to return to merely caressing his backside. “Ah, Sugi…hngh…mmph.” He could not help but vocalize his pleasure as he drew closer and closer to his climax. He figured it was also probably fair to warn the other man so he could be prepared. “I’m gonna…gah!” He did not even finish the words before tossing his head back with a moan as a wave of ecstasy coursed throughout his body. Though Sugiki had been aware that this would be happening soon and had tried to brace himself, it was still a shock to feel another man’s essence spilling into his mouth. He swallowed a little bit, but the thick, unfamiliar texture sliding down his throat triggered his gag reflex and made him cough, causing most of Suzuki’s cum to dribble down onto his shirt.

Suzuki offered a hand to help Sugiki stand up. Even after pulling him up, he continued to grip his hand, flashing him a contented smile. “Well, I sure didn’t expect a training session like this.”

Sugiki could not help but grin back at him. His heartbeat quickened as they stared into each other’s eyes. He wished they could stay this way forever, but he knew that the longer they continued basking in the afterglow, the harder it would be to tear themselves away from each other. “Well then, shall we get back to training?”

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Suzuki squeezed his hand tighter, keeping him from breaking away. “We might’ve solved my issue, but now it looks like you’re having one of your own.” His eyes darted downward to the obvious bulge in Sugiki’s pants, then looked back up at him with a lecherous grin.

“Ah, well, I…”

Suzuki swiftly eliminated the gap between their bodies, wrapping one arm around him while his other hand rubbed against the front of Sugiki’s pants. “Sucking me off got you pretty worked up, huh?” Suzuki murmured coquettishly. Sugiki could feel his neck and ears growing warm as he was once again being taken in by his partner’s highly effective seductive mode; it was hard to believe that a man who was so enticing in his everyday existence could amp up his sex appeal even more, but somehow Suzuki managed to pull it off. “You got such a low opinion of me that you didn’t think I’d return the favor?” he teased impishly.

Truth be told, this had all been quite an impulsive whim on Sugiki’s part, and he had not really thought ahead to what Suzuki might do for him in return. But now that the offer was on the table, there was no way he was going to pass it up. Sugiki draped his arms over Suzuki’s shoulders and gazed amorously into his eyes. “If you insist,” he answered softly before leaning forward to press his lips to his partner’s. The pace of this kiss was much more languid than the one they had shared earlier, yet still steeped with the passion of a tango as their tongues slipped past and against each other.

Suzuki began to shuffle his feet, leading them toward the side of the room as they remained attached at the mouth. They reached the benches and sat next to each other, then Suzuki pushed his weight toward Sugiki until he had him lying down. He brought his lips down upon Sugiki’s neck, kissing and sucking at his bare skin. Sugiki noted that he was definitely going to wind up with hickies from this, and would need to remember to keep his shirts completely buttoned up in the presence of others for the next few days, including at home with his mother.

Suzuki’s mouth drifted toward his throat, and he started moving on a pathway downward, placing kisses on each section of newly exposed skin as he undid his shirt buttons one by one. His other hand reached up to play with his nipples, and Sugiki could feel a part of him that wanted to resist; a man like him who was used to being in control was not entirely comfortable being put into such a submissive position. Still, he was willing to go against his own nature in this instance, as he craved the release his Latino partner was offering him.

After making his way down to Sugiki’s bellybutton, Suzuki went to work undoing the other man’s belt and unzipping his pants. He reached down into his underwear, frowning slightly as a realization hit him. “Um, wow. I could tell you were packing when our dicks said hello to each other in that first practice session, but god damn…” He sat up again and unveiled Sugiki’s erection, gawking at its impressive length. “Makin’ me feel inadequate here,” he muttered under his breath. Though he had desired Sugiki sexually for several months already, somehow he had never mentally prepared himself for the blow to his ego of being with a man who was better endowed than himself.

“You’re perfectly adequately sized, I can assure you.”

Suzuki looked dumbfounded for a second, then growled, “Your assurances are really shitty, ya know. How the hell’s being called ‘adequate’ supposed to make me feel better?!” In his mind, he added, Maybe someday I’ll fuck you, and we’ll see if you think my dick’s just ‘adequate’ then, but thought better of expressing that prospect aloud.

Sugiki was struggling to maintain a neutral expression, feeling a grin threatening to break out across his face. Getting Suzuki flustered was one of his favorite—and often easiest—forms of entertainment, and it was when he found him the most adorable. Though on second thought, perhaps this was not the smartest time to aggravate him, as it could cause his hot-headed partner to go back on his offer.

Suzuki narrowed his eyes at him, now noticing the smug glee Sugiki was trying to conceal. “You son of a bitch…” He had gotten him again, and though he was a bit peeved, he nevertheless loved seeing the spark of joy in the other Shinya’s eyes, which had become a rarer sight following their breakup. “You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy,” Suzuki said with a bit of a sneer as he began moving his hand in long strokes up and down Sugiki’s shaft. His partner sighed softly, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side, but Suzuki reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to face him again. “Hey. We ain’t dancing the waltz here. Don’t look away from me.” His lips curled up in a lascivious smile. “I wanna see your face when you come.” His grin widened even more as he watched Sugiki’s entire face turn beet red. “Wow. I’ve never seen you blush that hard before.” After repeatedly falling victim to his partner’s efforts to mess with him, Suzuki was pleased to achieve a small victory of his own.

As Suzuki continued to caress him, Sugiki tried to maintain the eye contact that the other man wanted, but it felt too intimate, to the point where it was uncomfortable for him. He continued facing upward, but instead of concentrating on what was in his field of vision, he fixated his attention on the rhythm Suzuki was using to pleasure him. Like when he danced, it was a bit inconsistent and unconventional, yet imbued with passion and enthusiasm. In any case, after spending months secretly wondering what it would be like if they pushed beyond just kissing, being touched by Suzuki like this was quite the thrill.

Suzuki saw a blissful smile appear on his partner’s face, which in these circumstances actually annoyed him. Ugh, why’s he always so elegant? I don’t wanna see that gentlemanly front when I’m jerking you off. He started pumping his hand faster, hoping to coax more of a lustful reaction out of Sugiki. His response of breathing slightly faster and biting down lightly on his lip was not nearly enough to sate Suzuki’s desire to see him let go, so he quickened his pace even more. Soon after, a slight hitch in Sugiki’s breath and his body tensing under him were the only signs Suzuki got to indicate that his partner was climaxing, which was immediately followed by the sensation of ejaculate spilling over his hand.

After taking a few moments to recover, Sugiki arose from the bench. “Let me get something so you can clean up,” he offered as he started walking across the room. He returned shortly with a towel and handed it to Suzuki.

“So…did you like that?” Suzuki asked curiously as he wiped his hands.

“Hmm? Of course. Why would you think otherwise?” Sugiki answered, looking confused.

“I mean, you weren’t really reacting very much, so…”

“Does the end result not make it obvious that I found it pleasurable?” He glanced at the towel Suzuki held, seeming to view it as proof of his point.

“Okay, yeah, obviously you got off, but I’m just more used to…”

“Oh, is it that you usually have women screaming your name in bed?” he chortled.

“That’s…not what I was trying to say…though it is true,” Suzuki acknowledged. “I just thought maybe I’d…I dunno, get to see you let loose a bit, get sloppy or something.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t tend to do that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Despite his best efforts, he had not succeeded in making Sugiki drop the impervious guard he kept around himself. Maybe I can’t get you to show me that side of you yet, but someday…

Sugiki could tell it was frustrating for the other Shinya that he had not given him the sort of responses he was accustomed to, but the fact was that it was difficult to open himself entirely up knowing that they could not be in a relationship at this point. Still, he could not let go of the hope that they might one day be together. If anyone’s capable of pulling that side out of me, you’ll be the one to do it.

Once they finished cleaning up, Sugiki disposed of the towel and changed into a new shirt before returning to his partner once more. “All right, shall we resume practice, then?”

“Yeah, but could we work on some dances I already know first? My brain’s a bit…foggy right now, so it’d be hard to try something so new.” He always fell into a fairly relaxed state following sex, so he wanted to save Sugiki the headache of trying to teach him quickstep when it was likely he would absorb very little.

“Certainly, but do you not think we should at least try to see if the compatibility of our rhythms has improved at all first?” He looked at Suzuki with a sly smirk. “That is why we did this, yes?”

“O-of course,” Suzuki stammered. “Yeah, let’s test it out a bit.” They positioned themselves in hold once more, beginning to move to the tune of Sugiki’s humming. Their feet flew across the floor in the basic quickstep patterns Suzuki had learned so far, each of them keeping in mind the feeling of the internal rhythms they had sensed from each other. This time around, they were able to continue moving at high speeds without stumbling, dancing around the room for a while before coming to a stop. Both were panting heavily from the effort, and as they stayed in hold a bit longer, Suzuki blushed slightly as Sugiki beamed at him with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Perfect.”

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Oh ho ho…my Shinyas are very naughty boys! Much more so than they’ve been in the story so far (I suppose a similar level to the Taboo side story, but that’s not exactly canon). I’m excited to get this done and add another fic to the very small pile that currently exists. I really hope more fans will join me in celebrating this beautiful manga and its central pair of dance crazy dumbasses who can’t yet—but will hopefully, eventually—figure out how to make it work between them *cough*just be switch goddammit*cough*. In the meantime, I’ll keep wallowing in headcanons that might possibly become fics if the mood strikes me again. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! ^_^

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Wandering Violinist (Book 2, Part 1)

Author: Akizuki Koh   Illustrator: Keiko Nishi (Read Book 1 Here)

Content Warning! 18+ Yaoi/BL/Soft Noncon This volume doesn’t have rape per say, but there are references to what happened in the first volume, so just in case I’m still providing a warning. Nothing is super explicit. Also, if you want to start with this book there is plenty of recap throughout the book to catch you up on characters and situations.

And we’re onto book 2! This book also has two parts, so hopefully I’ll have the second done in the next few weeks.  If you want to read on Google Docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSuh6ZZf--fQVn8mkSKkovlnZgIfKcD0vL1dmNRBBo2xVNMPw3EHBpNChs0vW4zq5qymXWQcZsvZmib/pub#ftnt1

Part I : Wandering Violinist

I have no apartment… no roost… not for tonight. I looked around in the hot and humid summer night; I couldn't even mumble because I was completely stunned by the situation. If I had to guess at the statistics, I’d say that the Fujimi-cho neighborhood -- where 80% of the residents live in apartments -- is like a ghost-town every year around this time. This is because there are many brave people who insist that they celebrate the ‘Bon Festival in my hometown,’ undeterred by the hustle and bustle of expensive flight tickets or the hellish rush to return home. It kills two birds with one stone: they make their dutiful family trip, and they don’t have to pay for accommodations when they get there. 

Actually, I — Yuuki Morimura — was one of those people. The reason I say ‘was’ is because I had just returned to my dear home-town after a two year absence on one such obligatory trip. I’m 23 years old and a music instructor at a public high school, as well as a violinist and concertmaster of the Fujimi Citizen’s Philharmonic, also known as the ‘Ni-chome Philharmonic’ or just ‘Fujimi.’ I seem to be considered a quiet and serious person because of the glasses I’ve worn since junior high, and often mistaken as younger than my age thanks to my slim body and feminine face (that I’m not so pleased with); I actually think I’m a pretty assertive person. I moved to Tokyo for music school, and then Fujimi-cho, which has become my second home ever since. 

Since my mother passed away, Fujimi feels even more like my second home. So as I returned from my three-day ‘homecoming’ trip and smelled the familiar scents of Fujimi, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I arrived before Fujimi’s rehearsal day, just after nine o’clock in the evening. Many of the shops in Fujimi Ginza around the small train station were already closed, each shutter with a sign on the door that said they were closed for tomorrow’s Obon holiday; well, as far as the rest of the country is concerned, tomorrow is the real Obon holiday. I took advantage of the fact that I work at a school with summer vacation to beat the rush of people returning home. This was always my trick that I used in the summer when I would go back home to the country. I would take care of my obligations before the proper Bon Festival and spend the three days when Fujimi-cho was quiet, playing the violin in my empty apartment building. It was the only thing I enjoyed in the summer, as I don’t have any other hobbies.

Now the steel frame of the building was exposed to the sky, and underneath my feet was rubble that seemed to be made from the collapsed walls, along with black trash that must have been furniture. I had entered the alley and turned the corner as usual, and saw the scene that was now in front of me; it was a total loss fire. Both my building and the one on the other side of mine were at least 80% burnt down. I scratched my head and turned to the right. The liquor store on the corner was still open.

“Excuse me, good evening!” A lady came out while using a fan. She looked me up and down and made a sympathetic face. “Ah, the Miyajima apartment building over there burned down yesterday evening, I heard about it on the NHK news,” she said.

“I didn’t hear anything about it, I was back at my parents’ house.”

“Oh, you lived there?” The woman scratched her cauliflower-like permed head with the handle of her fan, probably because she was uncomfortable dealing with a person she didn’t know. “That’s terrible. The fire spread quickly and the firefighters didn’t show up for a while because it was right in the middle of rush hour, you know.”

“Um, did anybody...die?” 

“It was a blessing that you weren’t there, the people who were left were burnt to a crisp. They were all dead by the time the firemen got there.”

“I see…”

“I heard it started from tempura oil. Yamamoto-san on the first floor was the origin of the fire. His wife always looked very careless.”

“Ah...Thank you,” the lady seemed like she wanted to keep talking, but I hadn’t recovered enough from the first round of information to keep up with more rumors. I bowed my head and left the store. The only question for now was where I could sleep tonight… I wondered if there were any hotels in this town. I remembered seeing a few love hotels, but as I walked towards the station I realized I needed to find something else: money. I didn’t have any. 

I put down my travel bag and violin under the streetlight and checked my wallet. No matter how many times I counted it, there was only 3,000 yen. Naturally I didn’t have much left, since I had given most of my money to my sister when I left my parents’ house. It was only fair since I stayed for three days at the place she was living with four children and a husband on the salary of a civil servant, while also maintaining a large country house and fields. I wanted to be considerate, and also make a small gesture since I was now a salaried employee, so I left her with enough money for a meal. But now…

“The bank won’t be closed even on Bon holidays,” I said to myself. No — tomorrow is Saturday! No, wait, I can still withdraw money, my card is in my wallet. So in the morning I can get money. I picked up my bag and case, which was now all I had to my name, and started walking. Oh yeah, my scores, my CD player, the CDs themselves, my clothes, my wardrobe, my futon, my toaster… all burned. Everything, everything…! I was hit with the sound of an oncoming car and rushed to get out of the way. As I looked at the red glow of the receding tail lights, I thought of the word ‘penniless.’ I have a violin, an ATM card, and a few clothes for the time being, so I’m not completely broke, but I’d be grateful if I could at least talk to Ishida-san, the caretaker of Fujimi, who I know I could rely on. But he’s on his usual week-long summer vacation. His whole family left for Hokkaido in the country on the same day that I left, and of course his coffee shop Mozart is also closed.

There were only two other members of the orchestra who knew where I lived: Natsuko Kawashima, a flutist, and the conductor, Tounoin. I had been in love with Kawashima for three years, even proposed to her, but we finally settled as friends in the orchestra. And Tounoin… well, I thought about going to him. He would be more than willing to let me stay, but that ‘willingness’ was the problem. He was gay, fell in love with me, and raped me — though the rape was an accident, as Tounoin had thought I was also gay and that I wanted to have sex with him. I respect Tounoin as a genius conductor, and I also think he’s a very good man, as he was willing to give up his affections towards me and not bring that kind of trouble into our relationship as musicians. 

That’s why… I don’t think I should go to his place to stay. No matter how much help he offers or how strong his willpower is, I don’t want to give him the opportunity to spoil me. He’s a human being too, and you never know when his self-control might slip… I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve established. I couldn’t impose on him like that, but I also couldn’t think of anywhere else that would let me stay. The list of Fujimi members and school staff had burned to ash in the fire, and there were a lot of people that I couldn’t remember their full names to look them up in the phone book.

I was flipping through the pages of the city phone book, trying to find a hotel, when I heard the sound of rain. It started raining. Then it was pouring. It seems like bad luck was following me like a bad smell. I took out ten yen from my wallet and picked up the phone.

“Hello, do you have any rooms available? Yes, for tonight. Oh, that’s great. Where are you located?” I thanked them, hung up the phone and wondered out loud, “Yeah, that’s pretty far. The cab fare alone would wipe out all my money. I wonder if they would let me stay without a deposit?”

I heard a noise and looked outside. A soaking wet businessman was waiting, so I opened the phone booth and said, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” and dashed under the eaves of a building to avoid getting wet. I hurriedly wiped the drops of water from my violin case. I decided to wait for the rain to let up and then walk to the hotel; since I only had 3,000 yen I really couldn’t spend it on the cab. But the evening downpour, which I assumed would stop if I waited it out, did not let up even after an hour. I waved my hand at the approaching lights of an empty cab and repeatedly counted the contents of my wallet in my head.

---

After going through 5 other hotels, the sixth hotel receptionist — my last ray of hope in the whole town — was a gentle, motherly woman with a pleasant appearance and tone of voice… “Oh, that’s the thing, isn’t it?”

I said quickly, “I have an ATM card, so if the bank is open tomorrow morning, I promise I can get the money! I know you have a rule that you have to pay in advance, but I won’t cause any trouble!” Needless to say, I’m not very good at this kind of negotiation. But there was nothing else I could do. I was so embarrassed that my forehead broke out in a cold sweat, but I persisted desperately. “I’m begging you. I can’t stay out in the open in this rain!” The woman, who seemed to be going through hardship of her own, looked down with a troubled expression. ‘One more push,’ I thought.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but if there’s any way…”

“Well, let me have your driver’s license.”

“Oh, that’s —“ I was sure that I had finally found a solution. “I don’t have it.”

“You don’t have a driver’s license?” It was heart-wrenching to see her face, which had finally softened somewhat, switch back into cold rejection.

“...my insurance card was burned. But..!” I pulled my ATM card out of my drenched back pocket. “I’ll leave this with you!”

The woman shook her head apologetically. “That doesn’t prove your identity, does it?”

“But if you look up my card number…”

“Can you prove it’s yours?” I was about to open my mouth to argue against her rude suspicion when the sound of rain started up again.

The easy-going face of welcome had turned into a cruel mask when she looked back at me. She said quietly, “Anyway, we don’t accept single guests.” Basically, I was interfering with their business, so get out of here.

“Ah, I see. Thank you.” Apparently this is the way the city is. I thought I could handle the love-hotel atmosphere, but I was naive. I gave the guests that had entered behind me some space so I wouldn’t have to look at them, but it seemed to be an unnecessary precaution.

“Oh, let’s take this room!” I heard the excited girl’s voice behind me as I walked out, not feeling the least bit guilty about being in a love hotel. This was the last of my hotel choices, and I had run out of ideas. I wondered if the heavens had come to regret their cruelty to me, as it was raining lightly when I went outside. But the situation wasn’t any better just because the rain was lighter.

“Police, maybe?” I had heard of something called ‘tiger boxes’ that were used to protect drunks, but I wondered if they would have anything for a lodger like me. ‘It’s all so bad!’ I thought, but that was the only option I could think of at this point. However, the police station was behind the Fujimi train station, which took me 20 minutes to get there by car, and now I had to walk back... “I’ve got 820 yen in my pocket, so I have no other choice.”

The problem was the violin, which could not get wet. I decided to put it in my travel bag, and used my summer jacket as a furoshiki for my overflowing clothes. I walked out into the rain, which was cold on my already soaking body. There was nothing else I could do.

—

“Achoo!” I sneezed, waking up. I was greeted by masculine-smelling air and unnecessary air conditioning. It seemed that I had caught a cold. I put my glasses on and looked at the round clock on the wall; it was barely 7am… I had stumbled into this police station a little after two in the morning, managed to get them to understand my situation, and they let me stay in the dormitory nap room.

“Achoo!” I guess it’s time for me to leave. After all, the air conditioning was too cold in here. I folded the blanket I had borrowed and left the dormitory room. I looked around for the middle-aged policeman that had helped me earlier, but maybe his shift had ended. I turned around and saw a policeman who looked younger than me.

“Oh, you must be Morimura-san.”

“Yes, I was staying here. Thanks to you, I was saved. This is for the person who helped me last night,” I offered him a box of sweets that my sister had given me to take home, “It’s a little wet from the rain, but inside is manju.”

“Oh no, that’s too much.”

“No, I’m really grateful.” As I was saying this, my nose started to itch again. I sneezed and bowed.

The city was already hot and humid, so I was grateful for the chills that were creeping into my body. I bought the cheapest lunch at a convenience store in the middle of the street and headed for the bank. It was 7:24am on August 13th, and in 30 minutes I would be able to say goodbye to the miserable feeling of having just 500 yen in my pocket. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know that today is the day the door of hell would be flung open.

It’s hot… the cicadas are so noisy. And… there was no money. The lack of money I thought I had was extremely shocking, there must have been some mistake. I’m sure it was just some small clerical error, like a paycheck failing to transfer. I did buy a new suit for the school year and paid for it in one lump sum with my bonus, but that should have gone through in July… but the ‘balance of 2,637 yen’ on the statement the cashier spit out was an unquestionable fact from the employee that was working that Saturday. He told me to come back on Monday for more details. The bank book, which was supposed to be a clue to solve my money question, had been reduced to ashes along with my personal seal and ID card. And the only thing that could guarantee that I am Yuuki Morimura was an ATM card, which could be stolen or picked up…

If it had been the bank where Kawashima-san worked, she probably would have taken care of it. Fujimi’s most beautiful flutist, Natsuko Kawashima, who had rejected my desperate proposal, was the type of person who would be strong in an emergency situation like this. But she’s not here, and anyway as a man I couldn’t just go to my girlfriend’s workplace and cry to her. For an hour I was at a loss for what to do, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this, envying the heavens and cursing my fate. Maybe I was stupid to have left with only my violin and a few changes of clothes. But! I had taken proper precautions against fire, and I was only gone for three days. Usually you don’t have to think about the possibility of your apartment burning down in such a short amount of time. 

The sun was shining on the benches, and shadows stretched out over the ground. I was craving grilled fish… but what was I supposed to do now, when it’s two more days until Ishida-san comes back? I was able to withdraw 2,000 yen from my credit card, but with a grand total of 2,511 yen it was barely anything. I pulled out the notepad I kept in my pocket. I knew I had only Mozart, Kawashima-san’s house, and the number of the school staff room written down. The school was closed for the Bon holiday and there was no answer on the phone. Kawashima-san was the only one who could help me. But… I said to myself, ‘Is it really worth it to go through all this?’ Of course, I wanted to just wait it out, but if I had to… if I did, I’d have to stay out in the open for two more nights. The policeman last night was kind enough to help me, but the way he acted made it clear that the police were not a hotel, and I was already feeling sick from my search for shelter in the rain. My pride as a man wouldn’t let me rely on Tounoin. 

As I soothed my dry throat with lukewarm water from the park fountain, I made up my mind. By the time I found a phone booth, I had sweated out more than I had drunk. I wondered if Kawashima-san would be at work or if she was off? In this case, I could barely spare even ten yen. In a desperate mood, I figured that she would have gone to work, so I looked up the number of her workplace in the Town Pages, which I was grateful to have even if it was in tatters.

The reply on the other end of the line was, “Kawashima-san is off today.”

I took my wallet out again… oh, ten-yen coins, you are valuable after all. I dialed her home number, and the voice that answered was that of a mother.

“I’m Morimura of the Fujimi Philharmonic. Is Natsuko-san at home?”

“Ah, the concertmaster. Thank you for always taking care of my daughter,” said the warm voice. I felt the dark clouds in my chest clear. Thank God. 

“Oh, of course. So, where is Natsuko-san?”

“This morning she went scuba diving in Izu with a friend. She’ll be back the night of the 15th.”

I couldn’t remember if I had said a proper greeting when I hung up the phone… as I exited the phone booth I felt that my last hope was gone. I’m finally going to have to live on the street. But… but… what the hell am I supposed to do? I asked myself over and over, and reluctantly arrived at the answer I already knew, the only solution. I have no choice but to go to Tounoin. Go to him… I’ll just borrow some money. As long as I have money I can do whatever I need to do; get a hotel room, ask the principal for a new ID when school resumes after Bon, go to city hall to get a certificate of seal impression, and then take it back to the bank. It’s just a debt, I will owe him a favor, but I can pay him back as much as I borrow. 

I walked, keeping my face down from the sun that was beating down on me. I was sweating profusely, yet an inexplicable chill ran down my spine. I put my hand to my forehead, which wasn’t even hot, but I felt like I was having a heat stroke. I need to borrow money to buy some cold medicine...a hotel… a cool room… I should have called Kawashima-san last night instead of trying to be proud and stick it out on my own. But it was so late at night… and either way it was too late now.

—

The Telephone Pole Mansion was silent and open as usual. On the wall opposite of the door to apartment 11 there was a row of mailboxes with numbers from 11-71 on them, and on box 71 was a handwritten name: “Kei Tounoin.” There was an elevator door next to it, and in front of the door an abandoned tricycle with the name ‘Mamiko’ written on it in permanent marker. I pushed the trike aside and pressed the button. I got off at the fifth floor — which was the end of the line — and climbed the remaining two floors, breathing hard. They say only idiots catch colds in the summer, but I felt myself getting more and more sick. But I had to act cool in front of Tounoin. He’ll probably tell me to use his place instead of a hotel, but I don’t want to accept a favor I can’t return. I had rejected him. Actually, he really wasn’t the kind of guy I could borrow money from, either… I finally managed to get to the apartment, and was anticipating getting to change clothes since the ones I had been wearing were soggy from being worn since yesterday. I put my hands in my pockets — I just remembered, I don’t have the key…

I usually have the key to his place. It was the middle of last month when Tounoin offered me his apartment, since mine didn’t allow the practicing of musical instruments and I had no other decent place to practice. At the time, we were still like a rabbit and a wolf, and I was the rabbit running away. I resisted and resisted, not wanting to be lured into the wolf’s house by some kind of trick. But then we developed a proper relationship as friends, and I decided to accept that his offer was out of kindness, not a trick. Since then, I’ve practiced here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night, and Sunday afternoon. I have a duplicate key because Tounoin’s apartment is soundproofed, and he plays music so loud that he doesn’t hear if somebody knocks. He gave me the key so I could come in on my own, but I had left the key in my apartment. On the morning I left, I put it in a bag of rice in the kitchen, along with my personal seal, bank book and other valuables… 

He had no doorbell. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I knocked a few more times, then thought to put my ear to the door, but it seemed to be silent behind it. Just to be sure, I looked for a window, but there was not a single window on this side. I went to the edge of the aisle and looked, but no, there was no window on that side either. There was a window across from the door inside… but regardless there was no sign of anybody being in the apartment. 

“He’s finally away…” did he go to his parents’ house, or on vacation, or just out shopping? No matter what Tounoin was doing, my situation was simple: I had no other place to go, no other option. As long as I had the key, I could go in; Tounoin wouldn’t mind if I came in when he wasn’t home. It would be much easier to wait in an air-conditioned room, and I would without hesitation, but without a key… it’s metal, so there is a possibility that it didn’t burn up in the fire. But to find it, I would have to go back down the stairs and walk for twenty minutes in the hot sun. Then I’d have to dig around in that pile of rubble, and what were the chances of finding it? Even if I did find it, it might be useless, and either way I’d have to come back here… by then, Tounoin might have returned. So I decided to just wait. Fortunately there was a roof over the passage, and the elevated location allowed for good ventilation. I sat down in the aisle with my violin case beside me on the concrete, which was cool and pleasant in the shade. Looking through the bars of the railing, the city was the color of scorched gold in the midsummer sun. I’ll wait here until it cools down in the evening, and if he doesn’t come back I’ll go look for the key…. but what if the key doesn’t work? Whether it’s there or not, I’ll have to come back, but what if Tounoin doesn’t come back tonight?

Then I’ll just spend the night here outside. No one but Tounoin comes up here anyway, and it’s summer so it shouldn’t be a problem to sleep overnight… but what if he’s on vacation? I haven’t heard anything about that. He’s probably shopping or something, he’ll be back in the evening. As I stared blankly at the scenery thinking about this, I began to feel sleepy. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to move anymore. The sooner I went to look for the key the better, and the sooner I could take some medicine the better. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I was thirsty and I knew I could get a cold drink at the convenience store downstairs. But once I was sitting like this, I didn’t feel like getting up again. I felt like I didn’t actually sleep much at the police dormitory, and yesterday was still yesterday…

I had helped Mimiko with her farm work in the morning, took my nephews to the town swimming pool, and taken a six-hour express train ride home, and then when I was feeling relieved to be home, the apartment was gone. And all that time I wasted looking for a hotel… after all that, it’s not surprising that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. In other words, I was utterly exhausted. And to top it off, I was coming down with a cold. I laid down with my bag as a pillow, just to give my body a rest. After a short nap I would take a fever reducer… and then go find the key… I laid down, staring at the concrete ceiling of the aisle and the blue sky beyond, thinking about the pile of scores I had that were now burned. I hadn’t finished learning more than half of them, maybe I should have brought at least those with me… I couldn’t help thinking about it now. 

...I opened my eyes with a start and realized I had fallen asleep. My body ached all over, probably from lying on a concrete bed. But I didn’t feel like waking up, I was feeling very sluggish, as if I were being held in a metal box. I wanted to look at the time, but I couldn’t lift my arm to put on my watch. ‘Never mind,’ I thought, ‘This is the top floor, and the only room up here is Tounoin’s, so I can afford to take my time. I’m sure he’ll have something to say when he gets back, and there’s no need to move when it’s still so hot…’ With this thought, I was sucked back into the darkness of sleep. But it was a sleep that I shouldn’t have fallen into, like what people experience when they’re in distress on snowy mountains.

I was burning hot when I woke up again. I forced open my heavy eyelids. Through the bars of the railing, at the same height as I was lying, the orange sun was blazing, and I was basking in the west sun. I tried to get up, but my body felt like a bag of wet sand. If I stayed here, I would dry out in the sun. I managed to crawl up on all fours and move to the little remaining shade by the top of the stairs. As I let my head fall limp, I thought of something. The violin! I shouldn’t have left it in the sun like that… I crawled back to the apartment door, grabbed the violin case, and went back to the shade. The coldness of the concrete made me feel uncomfortable, like a myriad of worms were slithering under my skin. Chills kept running down my spine incessantly. I was already starting to doze off, thinking of how awful this was. The sound of cicadas chirping somewhere in the distance was becoming more and more faint. Water… water… when it gets cooler, I’ll have to go to the convenience store… barley tea, juice...water...water…. I found myself depressed. When I came to, it was pitch black. I felt cold, and when I moved my entire body was filled with aches and pains. My head also felt like it was going to crack open, and the breath on my lips was hot. I felt like I couldn’t get up, but I managed to do so because I knew I was in danger of dying out here. Going down the stairs, however, was even more dangerous. My legs were unreliable, and my hands were shaking as I clung to the railing with what little strength I had. Still, I somehow managed to reach the elevator and descended to the ground floor. 

I staggered the 30 meters or so to the corner store and went in. The brightness of the white lights hurt my eyes.

“Excuse me,” I said, leaning against the register, “Do you have any fever reducers?”

“No, we don’t,” the cashier replied, “But there’s a pharmacy a little bit down the street.” He seemed kind. 

“How far is ‘just a little bit…’” It was too far for me now. “Could I have a bottle of Pocari?” The clerk asked me which one. “No, a large one.”

“Two bottles are six hundred and eighteen yen.” 

With trembling fingers I took the change and the heavy package and left the store. I didn’t have time to go looking for the keys. I literally crawled back to Tounoin’s front door on the seventh floor, relieved to see that the violin I had left behind was still there, and then I completely ran out of steam. I would fall asleep intermittently, waking up with chattering teeth, and then fall asleep again only to wake up drenched in sweat… each sleep and awakening had a similar sense of torment and nightmares, and time passed slowly. Every time I woke up, I would first check to make sure my violin was safe, then take a sip or two of Pocari, touch the violin case again and fall back into another painful sleep. 

I felt like my beloved instrument, which was ‘only two million yen’ in the eyes of musicians, was still very precious to me even at this moment when I felt on the brink of death. When I was a student, quite a few of my friends had instruments worth 2 million, and some played on ones worth 3 or 5 million. I wondered how they managed to squeeze that out of their parents. The violin is a small but expensive instrument, with the best ones like Stradivarius costing hundreds of millions of yen. Because of their nature, being made with wood, the sound gets better with age, so the 300,000 or 400,000 yen new violins lined up in the window of a music store are only considered entry-level instruments. When I was a student, I used a brand new violin that cost 700,000 yen. My mother spent all of her savings to buy me the best one she could find in the country, and that was how much it cost to get the violin and the bow as a set. The sound is somewhat proportional to the price, so no matter how hard I tried my instrument could not match that of a 3 million yen instrument. That’s why when I got out of college and started a temporary job, the first thing I did was buy this violin. I had already given up being a professional, but I really wanted an instrument that had a better sound; it was the culmination of around four years of frustration. I sold my 700,000 yen set for 600,000 yen, keeping the bow, and then added 1.4 million yen of my own from a personal loan to purchase my current instrument. I was really happy at the time, and now with only one more payment, my beloved instrument will be mine in both name and reality. Then, I will buy a suitable bow for it… probably something around 500,000 yen… with a loan again, but I will do it to get a new bow. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to afford it. And then I wished I could play the violin just one more time before I died, if this was to be my last moments…. when I think about it, I was being as sentimental as something you’d see in a shoujo manga, and later I blush when I recall being like that. I’m proud of myself for being a violinist, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have ever thought of pawning my violin for money. But I’m a fool, and in some way it’s more manly to be foolish.

That was what I was thinking about when I absentmindedly changed thoughts to the man who seemed to not be coming back, no matter how long I waited. I thought I heard footsteps, but figured it was just another hallucination. But the sound was getting closer… a white object appeared on the stairs, quickly turning into a Panama hat with black eyes under the brim. As I was lying on my concrete bed, all I could see was what came into my field of vision from the other side — a man with only a head, then a neck… his eyebrows were tight, the eyes underneath long and narrow, with a well-defined nose that even from the front you could tell was high. 

“No way,” the lips murmured. Then the shoulders appeared under the man’s neck, and a hand came up and lifted the Panama hat, which he fanned his face with. The man’s dark hair was long and full, tucked in tightly from the hat; it didn’t look rude or obnoxious because the style suited him. “Morimura… san? What are you doing here…?” With a clatter of footsteps the whole body appeared, a solid 190cm tall body in an elegant linen suit. He was holding a trunk that had customs stickers in one hand. Had he been traveling abroad…?

“Hey,” I smiled, or at least I thought I did. It was Kei Tounoin, the 22 year old unknown genius conductor who had dropped out of the Music Department of the National Fine Arts University — which he was accepted straight into — because he had ‘nothing more to learn’ after one year, and then he studied abroad in Germany and Austria. His present status was as the permanent conductor of the 2-Chome Phil, or Fujimi Orchestra, an amateur ensemble of people who love music. “I’ve been… waiting for a while…” I said in a raspy, shrill voice. Before I realized it was me speaking, I was folded into the chest of the suit that had quickly appeared. 

“Morimura-san! What’s going on? What the hell are you doing in a place like this?!” 

I was going to answer, but I lost consciousness…

--

When I woke up, I was in the water. At first I just felt vaguely cool and comfortable, when I heard a chuckle in my ear. My face was wiped with a cold towel dripping with water, and I opened my eyes. 

“Oh, you noticed,” The one who said this in a very relieved voice was Tounoin, who was looking right into my face from above. I tried to sit up, as I was using his arm as a pillow, but I heard a bang and realized I was lying in a Western-style bathtub filled with water. Completely naked.

“Wha-ah…” I jumped in shock.

Tounoin said in a serious voice, “I had to hurry to lower your temperature, it was over 40ºC.” I was relieved to hear that, but then my eyelids began to feel heavy… “Wait! Just one sip before you go to sleep,” he said with a panicked voice, and his arm snatched me up in a hug while he placed something hard and cold to my lips. A cup…? “You’re dehydrated, just drink as much as you can,” he said. Adam woke up and took a bite of the apple, but when I covered my crotch with my hand I felt even more embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said and shoved a thin object into my mouth. “It’s a thermometer,” he told me.

When he saw the temperature dropped to 37º he let me lean back into the water. I noticed that the sleeves and chest of his expensive linen suit were soaked from where I was leaning against him. “I’m sorry… I feel lost… put it on…” when I mumbled with the thermometer in my mouth, Tounoin smiled.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I was scared because I was afraid he was going to kiss me. But he only leaned in to read the thermometer. The door behind him slammed open, and he murmured, “It’s about time he got here.”

“How is it? Has it gone down a bit?”

“Seven degrees in one minute. I’ll move him to the room. Oh, can you get a bath towel for me from the cabinet over there? Two or three for the bed.”

“I should have brought a nurse,” said the man, opening the cupboard as he thrust his stethoscope into his pocket. Tounoin tried to pick me up, but I said I could walk myself. Both of them got irritated at me, thinking that I was just embarrassed. But the problem was the bed that I was brought to… two months ago, I was raped in this bed… but I couldn’t very well say that to Tonouin, who had taken care of me like a mother, nor to the doctor. After all, I don’t have a place to go home to, and I can’t look for an apartment until I get better.

“I’ll give you some glucose. You can still give him water. Basically the only medicine he needs is water and rest. Let him have some porridge when he has the energy to eat. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how it goes,” said the doctor, who left quickly after finishing his diagnosis.

I had enough energy to talk, “Are you related to that doctor?”

“He’s my uncle,” was the reply. I tried to tell him that there were pajamas in my bag, but he ignored me.

Instead, he pushed the dial button on the phone he pulled out from under the bed, but I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. “Hello, this is Kei. No, from Fujimi… please tell him it will be a little while before I can come back. No, I have a guest.” As I listened I felt his voice soften, and it occurred to me that he had a family, too. I hadn’t thought about it before…

When I woke up after a good night’s sleep I felt much better. I put on my underwear and pajamas, went to the bathroom on my own, which also made me feel better. My precious violin had been placed on the shelf above the audio components. When I told Tounoin about my unfortunate situation, he expressed his deepest sympathy and said I could stay in his place for the time being.

“I can’t annoy you any more than I already have,” I said. He had taken care of me and slept on the floor so I could use his bed.

“I see…” he said, his tone of voice sounding slightly angry. “I don’t think it’s annoying.”

“Well, I think it will still be two or three more days until I can get everything sorted out. So I’m sorry for that.”

“Yeah. But there’s no rush, you can stay here until you have the energy to play the violin. Conductor’s orders.” I laughed, and Tounoin laughed too. He’s a handsome man, but with his usual expressionless face he looks dour and misanthropic. However when he smiles, he looks very youthful and friendly.

—-

It was the third day I had occupied Tounoin’s bed. I had been thinking that tomorrow I could go out and look for an apartment, but I fell asleep… I woke up in the middle of the night because of a faint sound of music, just a murmur. 'That is… that’s Tannhäuser,' I thought, the song that filled up this room when it was at full volume on the night two months ago, when Tounoin forcibly embraced me! ‘Oh my god!’ I thought, and felt like jumping to my feet. But my body stayed still like it was bound up by rope. No, I was holding my breath like a rabbit who had heard the snort of a wolf, who was stalking him. I stifled a gasp, then fearfully opened my eyes. 

The room was dark, illuminated only by moonlight streaming in through the window, where the blinds were lowered… Tounoin was in his usual place, looking like his usual self on the other side of the room: facing the console cross-legged with his back to the bed. The sound of Tannhäuser was leaking from his headphones. The broad shoulders of his back made me wince, and inwardly I took an escape stance. Tounoin raised his arms and folded his hands behind his neck, then slowly curled his body forward. He stayed like that for quite some time. I could only see his curled back as I secretly watched him, fighting the memories that came back to me no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I don’t want to remember, but why is it that inconvenient memories are so vivid? I was attacked and raped while this song was blaring at maximum volume… the feeling of his thing going into me, the pain of it tearing my ass and the sensation of my internal organs being pushed out of my mouth when he was penetrating me. The uncountable minutes of humiliation, feeling crazy, embarrassed, terrible… I felt unbearably miserable, I really want to be able to erase this from my memory! Of course I didn’t want to do it… but I had gasped and moaned, and he was saying, “I love you”... no way! I wish I was lying, but the facts are what they are. 

I don’t know why he’s listening to that song, but before I knew it the sound stopped, and the silence made me choke up even more. The sound of my heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I pressed my head into the pillow, and I was worried Tounoin would hear it. I swallowed hard… how long was the silence going to last? Tounoin, motionless as a stone, murmured faintly, “Yuuki… Yuuki…” in a piercing whisper. Then he took off the headphones and stood up. I shut my eyes quickly. I felt a presence approach the side of the bed, and the raggedness of his breathing was stifling. I tried my best to pretend to be asleep. Tounoin seemed to be staring down at me. “If… if he’s willing…” he said quietly.

I decided what I would do and how I would do it, but I was confused. If he comes at me like he did that other time, I’m going to punch him in the face and run away, but… can I do it? ‘I will!’ I shouted at myself. Tounoin is a good man, and he saved my life, but that’s one thing and this is another! It has to be different! Tounoin was still standing there. The tension in my throat was so great that I felt my face begin to flush, thanks to the struggle to stifle screaming and the feeling of wanting to leap out of bed. 

I thought I had reached my limit when I heard his baritone voice say, “I’m sorry…” and he softly ruffled my hair. I opened my eyes when I heard the footsteps move away from me and the sound of blankets being spread out. Tounoin was lying with his back to me on a blanket on the wooden floor, instead of his bed that he had given up for me. He knew. He knew that I was awake, that I was curious about him. He knew I was afraid that he might do something, even though Tounoin had sworn never to force me and was keeping his vow. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I was scared to do that because it would give him hope… if I made him want to try again, when he was trying to give up like a man…. well, honestly I was afraid of Tounoin. Our friendship was built on the thin ice of his self-control, and if I take one careless step and it cracks, I will be swallowed by the flames of his passion that are still burning underneath. I knew that for sure from that afternoon in July.

 I also knew that I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to pleasure in the arms of a man; I couldn’t forgive myself after my body confessed itself unintentionally. He had hugged me with arms that were free of lust and apologized. I had said ‘I understand, but I’m not going to be in a romantic relationship with a man no matter how much he loves me.’ He accepted it when I said those words, and then we settled down into the normal friendship I had hoped for… but the way Tounoin was fighting with himself now, the bitter battle between his true feelings and the pretense he showed me tonight, that was the truth. He only put on the ‘just a friend’ act for me, a false image that twisted his true feelings. I knew I had to snap out of it with an ‘I’m sorry,’ which I was able to say by pushing down my emotions through reason, but it was much more painful than I had expected. He said that we would go find an apartment tomorrow, and that was the scream of his suppressed emotions. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed here… I like Tounoin as a person, but I can’t accept him the way he wants me to. I’m like a fish laying in front of a cat, ready to be eaten. I can’t let him do this to himself anymore.

The next day we took a cab to the real estate office. I said we could walk, but Tounoin was adamant, so we drove. We actually went to four real estate agencies, but couldn’t find anything that I liked so decided to try again another day. While we were out I also went to the school I worked at, which was two stops away by train. The vice principal was there, and he expressed his deepest sympathies for my situation and gave me a new ID card after I had requested him to reissue it over the phone. I immediately went to the city hall, got my seal registration card and went to the bank. Tounoin asked the branch manager to check my bank account in a calm and unobtrusive tone, and got the answer that I should wait for a few days. The bank book with a balance of 637 yen was quickly reissued with a single three-sentence stamp, since he showed his passport and acted as my guarantor. It seemed my body was still not up to full condition since I fell asleep in the cab on the way home, which worried Tounoin a little. 

As soon as we got back Tounoin pushed me to go to bed, and then Ishida-san came to visit suddenly. It seems that Fujimi’s caretaker was very worried about me, since I had been missing since the fire. He said, “Well, I got a call from my landlord as soon as I came back from my vacation. He asked me if I knew where you had gone, so I called your family but they replied that you left them on the 12th. I didn’t say anything about the fire, I just told your sister that I had urgent business for Fujimi. Since the police assured us that nobody died in the fire, I didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily.” 

Come to think of it, Ishida-san was my guarantor for my apartment contract. “Thank you for everything,” I bowed my head from the bed. “I was going to call my sister after I found a new apartment,” I added, “But Tounoin didn’t think I should mention the mishap with the fire. It’s not really a nice thing to talk about, after all.” Ishida-san nodded in agreement. 

“It’s a good thing you have shelter right now. How is your cold?”

“I'm getting better. I’ve been troubling Tounoin-san a lot.”

“So, are you going to find an apartment?"

“It’s hard to find a cheap place where you can also practice violin.”

Ishida laughed, “I hope the landlord decides to rebuild, but he is getting old. I did hear that he will be compensated for the spread of the fire."

“That’s right, even though the landlord didn’t start the fire.”

“Well, that’s about it. So…” Ishida-san rummaged through the bag he brought with him. “There’s not much in there, but be careful when you open it,” he said, placing an envelope next to my lap.

“Oh no, no, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not much, just a gift. This is the kind of situation for it, after all. And you don’t need to give anything back in return; we’ve known each other for a long time, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” He smiled at me and sat up. “Are you going to stay here until you find an apartment?”

I was about to reply ‘no,’ but Tounoin said “Yes.” 

“That’s good. I’ll see you later, then. Is rehearsal still off for tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll go.”

“Oh, yes. Well, we can’t have rehearsal without Morimura-chan, and Tounoin-kun isn’t going to attend either. You don’t have to force yourself.” 

After Nico-chan left, looking busy, Tounoin and I had a disagreement about where I would stay until I found an apartment.

Tounoin said, “I’ll be staying at my parents’ place from tonight, so you can take your time finding an apartment.”

“That’s…! No, I’ll go to a hotel.”

“That would be a waste of money,” I choked up… it’s true that if the bank doesn’t figure out my situation, I’m penniless.

“But I can’t just kick you out of your own place…”

“It’s okay, I should be dutiful to my sponsors sometimes, after all.”

“Where’s your hometown?”

“Seijo.”

 Wow, a high-class residential area! “But then, won’t it take you nearly two hours to get here?”

“Well, yes.”

“I can’t bother you like that.”

“I told you, it’s not a bother.”

“But it’s definitely inconvenient.”

“It’s about time I slept on a decent futon anyway.”

“Well, let’s switch. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“You’re a sick man.”

“I’m better now!”

“Then why don’t you go for a run around the town?”

We were dancing around the subject, he knew it and I knew it. Tounoin wants to get out before his emotions get the better of him. I can’t make the man who saved my life leave his own apartment. But to hold him back would be to continue tormenting him… 'Oh, righteousness or humanity!' I thought, and then I realized that it wasn’t out of duty or courtesy that I wanted to keep him around, is it? It’s just my stubbornness, and that I don’t want to admit that I’m actually afraid of him….

“Okay,” I said. “I feel really bad for you, but if it makes you feel better…” 

Tounoin laughed with a huff, “I’m telling you that I don’t think you can sleep well with me around, so I’m removing myself.”

I was pissed off that he pointed out the truth so bluntly, “I trust you, don’t I?”

“Do you?” 

Now I was really annoyed, “So why don’t you sleep with me tonight?” I thought I’d lost it as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t unsay it. “If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, then sleep next to me. I don’t mind,” I told him, confident he would refuse.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” he said with a sly smile.

“Then let’s go with that.” He smiled at me as I looked up at him, feeling like I had dug my own grave.

“I’m a better sleeper than Morimura-san.”

—

… Tounoin’s daily routine is that of somebody who is young and doesn’t have a regular job (I think, I never asked him about it), but is very precise. He wakes up at seven in the morning and has bread and coffee for breakfast. Then, he runs the washing machine and cleans the room with a rented mop. When he's done, he takes out a book or two from the cabinet full of scores, spreads them on his knees and studies them. He wasn’t playing recordings this time, but apparently just reading the music in his head; I had heard that only geniuses of Seiji Ozawa’s level could do that sort of thing without the assistance of an instrument. Usually you play piano or something at least. Conductors use the score, a book of music that contains all the parts of the orchestra (brass, woodwinds, strings, percussion), and each page has all the staves needed for the instrumental parts. The conductor’s job is to understand the flow of each part and how it interacts with the harmony in the complex combination as a whole. To be blunt, it was a task that my mind could never handle, but Tounoin apparently can construct it completely in his head. I knew he was a true genius. But of course, he didn’t seem to be doing it effortlessly either. He was doing it in his usual manner, with the score on his knees, but the level of tension and concentration was completely different from when he was reading with the recordings. He doesn’t talk to anyone, but I feel like I need to refrain from even breathing…

He does this from around eight o’clock, sometimes until the afternoon, without taking a break, and then would take a nap. After sleeping like a dead man for an hour, he would put on recordings in addition to reading the scores. Then he had dinner delivered from a restaurant (today while waiting for the food, he remembered the laundry and went to put it in the dryer), and after he finishes eating, goes back to playing recordings and score study.  He finishes up around twelve o’clock, takes a nightly bath, and goes to bed. He doesn’t have any sort of nightcap or alcohol; he was a man who lived a life completely immersed in music. 

I looked at the clock every five minutes, waiting for midnight to come. Well, maybe waiting wasn’t quite the right word, it was more like being in a state of trepidation. It was a little past midnight when Tounoin took off his headphones and turned the components off. He turned around to see if I was asleep (of course I pretended to be), turned off the light and walked past my side of the bed to the back door. Incidentally, this apartment is very well designed, except for the fact that the room isn’t square in shape. The first thing you see when you walk in is the audio equipment with five speakers that look like they cost a million yen. When you remove your shoes, you can see a large window at the other end of the room, and when you step inside the flooring is cork. The bed is at the far end of the room, and next to the double-sized bed there is a row of doors on the wall. The three closest to the entrance are cabinets full of musical scores. The fourth one leads to a cabin in the back, which houses a bathroom with a Western-style toilet, a storage area with laundry facilities, and a dining/kitchen area, all crammed into one functional space. 

After finishing his nightly studies, Tounoin went into the captain’s room for his usual bath, but he didn’t come out for a long time, while I waited and waited pretending to be asleep. He usually doesn’t take long baths, but it was over thirty minutes at least. Tired of nervously waiting, I actually dozed off instead of pretending, waking up when I felt the bed sink. Tounoin had laid down in the empty spot by the wall. He fidgeted a bit behind me with his back to me, but he soon quieted down. Then came the sign of someone who was satisfied with the comfort of sleeping. I couldn’t help but listen attentively to the sound of Tounoin’s breathing less than a meter away. If it didn’t switch to the sound of deeper sleep, I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully myself… but it wasn’t long before I started to hear his breathing slow and fall into a regular pattern. For now I was relieved, and was ready to fall asleep too. But… my mind was still racing and I couldn’t quiet it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t tired, but I hadn’t been out of the apartment in days, and even if my body is tired my mind is so sharp that it refuses to sleep. And then the more impatient I am to sleep, the more I hear Tounoin’s sleeping breath, the smell of his shampoo, and other things poking at my consciousness that brought back memories from that night and afternoon. This man who suddenly revealed himself as a passionate person, who attacked me and stole me away, when I had only known him as an impudent and calm conductor… this man who plucked my pride and twisted my flesh into a type of affair I’d never known… this man with wide shoulders, a broad chest and strong arms, that held me captive and dominated me, stopping me from challenging him with his strength…

For a moment, I remembered the feeling of something thick and hot ramming into my ass. I twitched, and at the same time I realized that my penis was on the verge of rising. Why is my body in such a state of rebellion against my will? How was it that a  single, forced experience made me a homosexual who wants a man? But… but… smelling Tounoin’s scent… his presence… is what causes this change in my body. He already understood, I convinced him that I can’t be his lover, and he has not laid a finger on me as promised. I...I...I… stiffened at the sound of a sigh behind me.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” The sleepy voice had a faint hint of a teasing smile. The bed creaked as he turned over, and then Tounoin fell asleep with a swoosh. 

‘Damn it!’ I thought. I was supposed to be worried that he would break the chains of his reason! Yes, I was. He really wanted to have sex with me, but out of concern that he couldn’t keep his vows he was going to stay at his parents’ house. Because I hinted at that, his vain counterattack was this accusation that I didn’t trust him. The rest was just saying words for words’ sake, but… okay, I’ll buy it. I’ll buy it. I’m determined to see how much more of this you can take, until you give up! But if you lose it and come after me, I’ll laugh my ass off and ask what happened to your vows! Yeah, that’s right, I’m going to laugh about it. Once my mind was made up, all I had to do was sleep. Oh yeah, I’ll laugh it up. He’s going to get a real good night’s sleep…

I woke up twice in the night. Why is that? ‘I’m a better sleeper than you…’ get out of here with that kind of joke!

—

I woke up in a daze. It was cool and chilly, and I nuzzled my nose into the warmth in front of my face. I heard, “Good morning.”

“Mmm…” I replied softly. Huh? 

The warmth was the chest of Tounoin’s pajamas, and I had slept hugging him! I tried to sit up, but he pulled my head back and said, “Now do you understand? I have confidence in my ability to reason,” reminding me of what I had thought before I fell asleep. I steeled myself to prepare for an escape. 

“Yes, but you’re not a good sleeper, are you?”

 Tounoin laughed, “I’ll be as careful as possible.” Now I’m sure you’ll be sleeping with me as long as I’m here. Don’t start barking now that your tail is out, wolf… I’m perfectly fine with it. But the AC is so low in this room that it feels good to be together… I’m in trouble… I fell asleep again and was woken up for lunch, and I felt embarrassed. 

In the afternoon the two of us went out to look for an apartment again, but we didn’t find anything that day either. I withdrew my requirement for being able to practice the violin. I was satisfied with my modest request to be able to afford the rent, and making sure it was in Fujimi-cho, not too far from the station. But I couldn’t even find one that would satisfy those modest wishes. Most of the apartments in Fujimi-cho are bedroom-focused, and the emphasis on family units seemed to be a bottleneck. I didn’t mind living in an apartment with one or more baths, but the rent was accordingly expensive…

 I had a Fujimi rehearsal in the evening, but I was tired from visiting real estate agencies. But I had promised Ishida-san that I would attend, so I started preparing in the evening. I realized that if I don’t play for a day, I can’t move my fingers the following day. Aside from the right hand that uses the bow, the left hand has to play on the strings almost of its own accord. To make up for a week’s absence of practicing, I spent three hours before heading to the Civic Center. But… fuck! This is just Allegro! Why can’t I move my fingers better than this?

“Morimura-san.”

Oh, I’m depressed, I missed it again. And it’s in such an easy position…

“Morimura-san!” He shouted in my ear. I looked up to see Tounoin looking down calmly. 

“Go ahead, I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“Are your clothes OK? If you want to change…”

“No, thank you. It’s fine, it’s fine.” I only had two sets of clothes in my travel bag, and the ones I was wearing at the moment were procured by Tounoin because he thought it would be inconvenient to keep wearing the same clothes. He has good taste.

“So, we should leave soon. We can stop at Fujimi on the way home for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I nodded and thought to myself, is he acting like my guardian? Yeah… he is.

—

Fujimi’s summer vacation lasted ten days, and I returned on the second rehearsal after the vacation. I was escorted (or so it appeared) by Tounoin. We stepped into the main conference room of the Civic Center and got down to business as usual. I took out the folding chairs from the storage area and arranged them, took out the folding table and arranged it, then the tuner and checked the batteries… Tounoin helped me quietly, and when he was done he disappeared to somewhere else. 

The first person to arrive was Ishida-san with his double bass, “Well, you’ve come out after all.” Apparently he had come to set up the venue in my stead. Everybody else seemed to come very quickly as well, and when they came up to talk to me they all knew about the fire in my apartment. I shouldn’t have felt annoyed that they were worried about me, but I also felt embarrassed, so I just said, “Thank you” and “It’s okay.” Kawashima-san also came to give her condolences.

“I was worried when I heard from my mother that you called me. Where on earth did you go…?” as she said this, the beautiful flutist looked at me with a puzzled expression. She knows about my relationship with Tounoin, except she stopped short of saying anything out loud.

I took the initiative, “Yes, actually, I’m staying at Tounoin-san’s right now,” Ishida-san knew about it, anyway. I added firmly, “In a clean and respectable way, as a housemate.”

Kawashima ran her white fingers through her pretty hair, “So are you still following the trend?”

“Of course not! I’m not gay!” 

Kawashima-san cut me off, chuckling, “I’m sorry, I have to admit I have a little grudge against you, so I felt like teasing.” It was a one-way love triangle between me, Kawashima-san and Tounoin. I was in love with Kawashima-san, she fell in love with Tounoin at first sight, and Tounoin fell in love with me… then I was dumped by Kawashima-san, she was rejected by Tounoin, and of course I have no intention of becoming a lover to a man. But it was a joking manner of resentment. After all, she’s the one that keeps trying to get me and Tounoin together. She seems to think homosexual couples are ‘trendy,’ but you know… a man and a man bedding together is just an awful sight. 

That evening we were supposed to be finishing up Finlandia, which we’ve been working on since last month… I took a break, and hadn’t touched my violin for a week. I looked at Igarashi-kun, the student cellist, and thought, ‘Well… let's see.’ I clapped my hands to get his attention. “Since everybody seems to be ready, can we try playing the part together? Strings, let’s do all the strings together and all the winds together. Timpani, please join the winds. Kaizuka-san, please take the lead of the wind section.” 

The principal oboe raised her hand to gather the other winds, and I joined the string group, taking advantage of the rattling and rearranging. “Ichiyama-san,” I called the second violin leader. “I’m sorry, but I need you to be the leader today.”

“But Concertmaster, why are you stepping down?”

“I haven’t played for a week, so my fingers are completely rusty. I want to get back in shape before Tounoin-san gets here. Sorry to be so selfish.” Ichiyama, who was an accounting manager of a construction company in the next town, nodded seriously. 

“I heard you were sick in bed with a cold. How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thanks.”

Igarashi-kun smiled at me as I joined the circle. He was especially happy, but everyone was already tired of practicing the monotonous long notes. The winds began to play and Ichiyama-san frowned. “I can’t hear very well,” he said. For the next forty minutes, until eight o’clock, we concentrated on uniting the string section.

“Stop, stop! We have to listen to each other more. If the string parts are not played like a single instrument, it will be more disjointed when we put it together with the winds. Then, let’s take it from bar 32.” The group with the timpani added to the woodwinds and brass seemed to be working hard to create the right harmony, playing and stopping. Playing and stopping. I had been able to instruct them on the right way to practice.

“Sorry,” said Nico-Chan, scratching his head. Ishida-san, who held the title of ‘Fujimi Citizen’s Symphony Orchestra Caretaker,’ had been sentenced by his wife to have his instrument taken away when he almost destroyed his main business, Mozart coffee shop, because he was so devoted to Fujimi. As a relief measure for the situation when we lost our bass player, we won her pardon so he could return to playing after almost ten years of being benched. He couldn’t help that he couldn’t produce a solid sound, but Ichiyama-san had been a friend of Ishida-san’s since the formation of Fujimi, and therefore had a relationship that allowed them to complain freely. Ishida-san apologized and tried his best to meet the order of playing ‘crisply’ in a serious manner. This was one of the things I liked about Fujimi, how in the family-like atmosphere warnings and advice were exchanged very naturally. We were all getting better together while having fun.

“Morimura-chan,” Ichiyama-san’s voice made me turn around. “You’ve got a lot of tension in your shoulders.”

“Oh, yes,” I lowered my violin and did some exercise with my shoulders. I’m getting really stiff.

“So, let’s start at measure forty-eight,” It’s really wonderful to have such colleagues, I thought. Oh, I’m in tune… yes, it’s going well. Eventually, at exactly the right time, Tounoin walked through the door after his five-minute observation and climbed up on the podium. I wondered where he had gone off to; I had thought he was going to be there for the earlier part of the rehearsal since he came over with me. Then I realized something: could it be that he did it for me? I didn’t mind at all, but it's true that I didn’t want it to be obvious that we had come to rehearsal together. 

—

I was packing up to leave after Tounoin’s usual, ‘We’re done’ when Igarashi-kun came up to me, looking like he wanted to talk. 

“So I heard that you were laid up for a while,” Igarashi is a current student in the cello department of the local music university, who started school the same year I graduated. He’s a cute guy who looks up to me for some reason. He’s talented, motivated, and cheerful, and also tends to be the ‘mood-maker’ in Fujimi.

“I caught a cold when I got stuck without a place to stay,” I replied, “But I’m all better now. Why?” I opened the floor for him.

“Actually…” he scratched his head, “The thing is… I’ve been ordered by the orchestra director to transcribe some music. It’s for a program in next month’s school festival, and it’s due tomorrow. I gathered my friends and we worked hard, but we still have a third of the score left to do.”

“Haha… what’s the piece?”

“A symphony composed by Kitagawa, a senior student in the composition department. It’s long and complicated.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to rehearsal tonight.”

“If I didn’t take a break from it, I’d be dead by now. I’ve been up all night for two days and still haven’t finished.”

“So are you trying to get another cat’s paw?” Igarashi rubbed the back of his head as I talked.

“Sempai, please. I’ll get you midnight snacks and breakfast!” 

Transcribing music is literally copying music, but not the easy way with the photocopier. What Igarashi and his friends were doing was creating parts from the conductor’s score, the music that represents the entire piece. However, for each player in the orchestra the score is inconvenient, since all the notes of the instruments are written in the music, and each page only consists of four to six measures per page, requiring frequent page turns. So for the performers, a part must be made from the score, a transcription of the part from the general score, and it must be done for each instrument; for first violin the first violin part, oboe for the oboe, percussion for percussion. Of course, for major works by popular composers such as Mozart, Beethoven and Toshiro Mutsu, the publishers give you both the score and parts if you buy them (or if there are copyright restrictions, you can rent them for a fee) — or copy them if you can get away with it. However, the ones that Igarashi and his colleagues are working on are by a student composer, with only the original score to work with…

In other words, the only option was to take the score and write out the parts, which I had done many times. The ‘Freude Orchestra’ was formed as a music college club, and had a tradition of playing newly composed pieces by fellow students mixed in with regular concert programming. In Fujimi, whenever I needed to make my own arrangements for missing parts, I was the one to do the transcribing (Nico could do the arranging as well, but as a busy coffee shop owner he usually didn’t have time to do it). So I know firsthand the difficulty Igarashi and the others are facing. 

“Okay, I’ll help you out,” I answered. “Where have you been working on it?”

Igarashi looked relieved, “In my apartment, we only have the string parts left to do.”

“Is it a good piece?”

“It’s not bad. Mayuzumi said it was a great work, but…”

“Hahaha!” I realized that the only people left in the practice room were me, Igarashi and Tounoin, and everything but the chair I was sitting on had been put away. I told the tall conductor, “I’m going to go with Igarashi-kun to help him with some transcribing right now, so please go home first.” He stared at me for a moment and nodded. He quickly left the room. “I’m staying with him for right now, since I haven’t been able to find a reasonable apartment,” I explained.

“Oh…” Igarashi nodded. After that, I felt like he was secretly biting back a laugh, but that was probably my paranoia. “Well, you really saved my life. I was wondering what I would do if Morimura-san refused me.” 

I finally escaped, didn’t I? But while listening to Igarashi’s smiling voice, I was thinking of how Tounoin’s back looked somewhat depressed as he walked away. It’s not a bad feeling to have somebody worry about you, but he’s being overly protective. I’m a full-grown man, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a guardian anymore.

—-

Igarashi’s apartment was on the third floor of a newer reinforced concrete building, just a few blocks from my old place that had burned down. The room, which was about six tatami mats with a kitchen, was fairly clean, and two exhausted-looking coworkers were waiting for Igarashi to return with his helper.  The windows were open and the air was a bit stuffy, but there was no fan running. A pile of staff paper scattered about the room was the reason why they couldn’t have any inadvertent breeze.

“This is Kikuchi on clarinet and Oyama on piano.” Kikuchi was a small man with pouty lips that looked like the type of person who would play clarinet. Both of them were dressed in running shirts and pants, and their eyes were red, their faces full of stubble and fatigue.

“I’m Morimura. How many more pages do you have to do?” The symphony, titled Yuguna, is a large work with a performance time of fifty minutes, filled with waves of sixteenth notes mixed with thirty-second notes in modulation after modulation, a characteristic of modern music. I could tell from a glance of the score that it was a difficult piece. However, I could see a glimpse of talent in the unique melodic quality of the phrases, which was probably why it was chosen as the piece for the Freude Orchestra’s regular concert. But...I put my face close to the handwritten copy. Is that a C? Or is it a D?...D apparently… it’s hard to tell.

“It’s hard enough to read, isn’t it?”

“I think you should probably re-write the whole score while you’re at it,” I said, and the atmosphere quieted down. I realized that I had lost my mind. Damn it, these people…

“Well, I guess Kitagawa-kun will conduct, so I’ll just leave it at that.”

 I tried to recover my position, but then one of them said, “Yoshida is the senior in the conducting department, he’s going to conduct it…”

“So…”

“I’ll take care of the conductor’s score.” Igarashi’s face lit up as I said it with a sacrificial look of resignation.

“I’ll do the second violin,” Kikuchi said, “Who’s gonna take cello?”

“I don’t mind doing the cello part,” Oyama said, staring at the copy of the score, “Just the cello.”

“How much time do we have?”

 I flipped through the part, trying to assess how long I thought it would take, when Igarashi said in a small voice, “I promised to have it done by nine o’clock…”

“... in the morning, right?”

“Hahaha, well…”

“So we’ve only got ten hours! What are you waiting for? Staff paper! Pens!” There was no point in transcribing music if you can’t make it accurate and legible. And most of the time, you have to race against the clock.

I started with the first violin part, one of the two that I had been assigned. There is only one conductor’s score, but there are eighteen violins in a full orchestra. Priority was given to the many. I wrote in the note heads as fast as I could, going back and adding the stems after I had written a few measures' worth. Then I wrote the accidentals as needed — oops, it’s in B-flat from here. Damn it, I don’t want anybody to get keystroke from… for moving chords around so much. It’s a six-bar break, not five. Oh, is it natural or sharp? No, it’s natural. Hey, is that an E or an F or… uh… 

“Igarashi-kun,” I called out to him from halfway across the table, where he was focused on his own work.

Without looking up, Igarashi placed something in front of me. It was dice.

“Is this..?”

“If it’s an even number, it’s E.”

“So you want me to roll the dice to decide which pitch it is? That’s random…” I mumbled, and began to examine the chords to try and draw a conclusion from their spelling.

“Iga, give me the dice,” said Kikuchi, who was behind me using a beer container as a desk. Igarashi tossed him the dice.

“I need them too,” said Oyama, who was also using a makeshift desk next to me.

“What, you’re all doing it that way? You’re lousy transcribers, aren’t you?”

Kikuchi muttered to me as he rolled the dice for Oyama, “I’m sure Morimura-san will figure out why soon enough.”

I knew that if I had to guess and interpret every chord, I would never make the deadline in time. Damn it, if it’s difficult, it’s probably a great piece. I don’t get this music at all! I started working on it about ten o’clock, and it was past midnight when I finished the violin part with the measure numbers written in. I skipped checking the music at this point and started transcribing the whole score. If there were any mistakes, they could find them in rehearsal and if not, then it’ll be what it is. After all, I had to finish this thick book of sheet music by eight o’clock at the latest… But let’s be real, this is impossible! It’s physically not possible to do in seven hours what it would take three people like Igarashi and his team two days and nights to do. But we had to get whatever we could done. As I wrote the names of the parts on the second sheet of the score, I called out to Igarashi, “The piano parts are done. I can’t finish the score by nine o’clock, but I’ll do as much as possible.”

“You’ve finished the violin part already?”

“Really? Wow, that’s fast!” Igarashi picked up the completed part. “I can’t believe this is handwritten! Morimura-san, you could make a living as a transcriber!”

“What? Which one? Wow, that’s great.”

“That’s true, the first violinists are lucky.”

“Ah…” I didn’t have time to be happy even if they praised me. Okay, brass is done. Next is…. but it’s so hot, even with the windows open, because there’s no breeze coming in. The rest of them were wearing only their underwear; they had told me to take mine off too, and I would feel better. So I took my shirt off, though I wasn’t wearing underwear so I was only naked on top, but it’s only guys here anyway. 

I was writing out the harp section on page 43 when I heard, “Oh, it’s finally done!” Oyama exhaled a deep breath and suddenly fell back onto the tatami floor. “It’s already four o’clock and I’m starving,” he said and rummaged through the bag from the convenience store that was left there.

“There’s a ramen if you want it,” replied Igarashi, still moving his pen.

“If you make it for me, I’ll eat it.”

“What about you, Morimura-san?” He asked me. I was about to answer ‘no’ when I remembered that I had skipped dinner, and I was almost at the limit of my energy with my stiff shoulders.

“I’ll eat. I missed dinner.”

“So you want me to make two?”

“No, just one.” I quickly sipped the cup of ramen while reading the rest of the score, and returned to my writing. As I started the fiftieth page, Kikuchi announced that he was done with his work. As soon as he finished his ramen, he flopped down beside Oyama, who had fallen asleep, and he did the same.

“So depressed that they’re done already,” muttered Igarashi. Oyama was snoring, Kikuchi had a peaceful sleeping breath, and the sound of Igarashi and my pens running on the paper… the smell of ramen and the sweat of tired young people… I noticed a cool breeze coming through the window, and when I raised my eyes it was light outside. I breathed in the brief freshness that comes between the tropical night and a hot day. Now only a hundred pages to go.

When Igarashi packed his and the other’s finished bunches of parts into paper bags and left the apartment, I was still wrestling with a job that would take another six hours. The sun was on the way up. The hot room was somehow even hotter; sweat dripped from my hair as I bent over the staff paper, so I wrapped a towel around my head. It trickled down my bare chest and armpits, even on the back of my hand. Sweat gushes out in beads no matter how much I wipe it off, making the pen slip in my hand. I took a short break when I had just started the 100th page. In order to reduce the remaining 50 pages as much as possible, I did one more page in the three minutes I was waiting for the cup o’noodles to be ready, but it took me longer than I thought it would, and the ramen turned into udon. 

As I slurped down the bloated noodles, I thought about how I was too good-natured. I felt like an idiot for staying up all night on a job that has nothing to do with me or Fujimi… speaking of which, I wonder if Tounoin was worried about me. But at this hour, it would be an imposition to make a phone call, and I don’t even know his phone number in the first place… well, it should be ok, I already mentioned that I was doing the transcription, and he should know that it’s a time-consuming job. I finished the soup, drank two glasses of Aquarius to rehydrate myself, and took up the pen to resume work. Ahh, my hands hurt, my eyes are tired… but if I rested now, I wouldn’t be able to finish the job. Give me strength… I wrote the last symbol on the last page, and the long, long job was done. Eighteen hours of work! My fingers were so stiff they creaked when I tried to put the pen down. I took off my glasses, which felt like they were burrowing into my nostrils, and placed them on top of the finished score. I was tired~

Igarashi and his friends had not returned yet. Come to think of it, he said he had rehearsal in the evening. It’s hard for the underclassmen when they’re overworked by their seniors… I was going to just leave my score behind and go back to Tounoin’s place, but when I laid down to stretch my back — which was stiff as a board — I didn’t want to get up again. I decided to sleep while looking after the house until Igarashi returned. Feeling my tired body falling asleep, I patted myself on the back for a job well done. 

—

I smelled food and drink. The sound of voices, sometimes loud and sometimes guttural. It sounded like I was in the middle of a drinking party. I turned over in my sleep, thinking it was too noisy.

“Oh, Morimura-san, are you awake?” I heard Igarashi’s voice say, and felt him come over to look at me. I pretended to still be asleep. They were probably celebrating being done with the transcription, but right now I wanted to sleep more than drink.

“Morimura-san, we have Oden. Hey, Morimura-san.” I didn’t want it, just let me sleep.

“No, he won’t wake up,” I heard Igarashi say to his friends.

“Ah, well he’s a great person. Did you see the score? He rewrote it down to the last page. I admire him,” Kikuchi replied.

“He’s a very serious person, he never makes mistakes on the violin. He practices like a pro, I bet.”

“And he’s cute, too…” Oyama’s voice said, “I didn’t notice it until I saw him sleeping just now. So amazing.” His speech was slurred, so clearly he was drunk.

“Hey, Oyama, don’t be weird,” Igarashi said with a laugh.

“What do you mean ‘weird’? Beethoven and Karajan had male lovers. Genius lives in homosexuality,” after making this startling counterargument, he seemed to stand up.

“Hey Oyama, sit down,” Igarashi said.

“Hehe, just look at him,” he said, and inwardly I frowned as I felt liquored breath on my face. “The more I look at him, the more attractive he is… so cute. Haha, he has such a beautiful chest… and smooth skin… and perky nipples.”

“Hey if Morimura-san wakes up he’s going to kick your ass!” Kikuchi yelled. Oh, I’ll kick his ass alright.

“Beethoven, Karajan… why are you making up that kind of bullshit?”

“Someday you’re gonna get killed, saying that kind of stuff.”

“It’s not bullshit, and I’m a genius. When I see a guy like this I get so horny… he’s so sexy...” The reason I didn’t take action until the person speaking slammed into me was because I was just too tired to bother moving.

“Whoa!” It wasn’t me who screamed, but Igarashi and Kikuchi. My mouth was blocked by the boozy lips stuck to my face. As I struggled, Oyama gasped and said, “You look so sexy, ahh…” as he groped my chest and stomach.

“You idiot! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Oyama, goddamn it, stop!” The two of them were yelling and trying to pull Oyama off of me. 

I twisted Oyama’s ear, which he grabbed with his struggling hand, then I slapped him as hard as I could in the face.“You perverted son of a bitch!” I shouted and glared at him. 

Oyama looked at me soberly, “This… you! You hit me! I’ll fuck you up!!”

“Oyama! That’s enough!”

“I’m sorry Morimura-san, so sorry!”

“Dammit, let me have a shot at him!” Oyama yelled, and still tried to grab at me while being pinned down by Igarashi and Kikuchi. I almost punched him, but I thought twice about it when I noticed a poster of some chamber music group on the wall behind Oyama. That’s right, I’m a violinist, and my hands are my most important tool. I looked around and saw a bottle of wine. I grabbed it in my other hand and swung it over Oyama’s head; he thought I was going to crack his skull, and Igarashi held up his hands in surprise. But what I threw at his head was… alcohol. After I emptied the contents of the bottle on Oyama’s head, I threw the bottle down.

“There, I’ve cooled you down a bit, asshole!” I spat at him between my clenched teeth. I glanced at the three rigid men and put on the clothes I had taken off. Damn it, if I had known I’d get mixed up in something like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to do anything. I stepped into my sneakers and opened the door.

“Oh, Morimura-san, please wait!” Igarashi dashed after me, but I ignored him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m really sorry this happened after you helped me so much. I’m sorry!” Igarashi was crying. “When he gets drunk he turns into a monster, but he usually doesn’t do that sort of thing! I’ve never seen him do anything like that before.”

“So are you saying it’s my fault?” Igarashi fell silent for a moment when I sprayed him with the cold anger that was inside me. I looked at him sideways. Igarashi followed me and wept with a crumpled face. I sighed and stopped. “...I know it’s not your fault. I can’t tell you not to worry about it, though.”

“I’m sorry…!” Igarashi squeaked out and sobbed. “Oh I… I can’t go to Fujimi anymore.”

“...are you saying you’re going to make the cello section vacant?”

“No, because I…”

It came out of nowhere. The blood that had been frozen in the pit of my stomach shot up to my head and I yelled as loud as I could, “Don’t be stupid! Don’t you dare waste that shit score I just transcribed for you! And now I’m repaid by getting teased by a drunk and being told that our only cello is quitting? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Igarashi’s eyes darted as he looked up at me, mumbling, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, as long as you understand,” I said, and walked away. I thought how the tone of voice I used was like Tounoin’s. Come to think of it, Tounoin… is he worried? It was already night again, and I had left my watch in Igarashi’s apartment, but it was too late to go back. I hurried through the humid night, passing by the convenience store near the apartment. Remembering that I was hungry, I turned around. No, wait, I don’t have any money.  But I went ahead and took a peek at the clock at the cash register before I turned the corner again; just before one o’clock… ‘I wonder if Tounoin is asleep,’ I thought, and then I realized: I don’t have my keys. I still haven’t made another spare since I lost the last one, and the last time I left the apartment I was with Tounoin, so I didn’t realize that I would need it. I’m in trouble… guess I’ll have to camp outside of the door again…

I knocked several times, but there was no answer and the door didn’t open. I twisted the knob, hoping that it would work — the door was unlocked. It was dark in the cool, air-conditioned room, and Tounoin seemed to have fallen asleep. Feeling like a curfew-breaking teenager, I stealthily took off my shoes and entered the room, trying to dampen the sound of my footsteps. Tounoin was in the bed, asleep. I slipped my violin case on the shelf and walked quietly to open the door of the cabin without making any noise. I took a quick shower (the hot water needs some time to come out, but I didn’t want to wake up Tounoin), changed into my pajamas, and crept into the kitchen to get at least a piece of bread. I found a sandwich from the convenience store sitting on the table, a box of cup soup, a cup and a pot of hot water. As I took a bite, my heart was filled with a sincere feeling. ‘You’re a good guy, Tounoin…’ as my rumbling stomach settled down, I was ready to forget about what stupid Oyama had done to me, that damn drunk. I turned off the lights in the cabin and snuck back into the main room. I slipped into the space Tounoin had left open for me, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I heard a half-asleep voice say, “Oh… you’re back…”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Did you finish the transcription?”

“It was an all-nighter, eighteen hours of work.”

“...are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to go to sleep.”

“Good night.”

“Good night,” I said, and I fell asleep right away… around what seemed to be dawn I woke up because it was cold, but it was too much effort to get up and turn off the air conditioner, so I chose to huddle closer to the warmth that was near me. It was so warm… Tounoin seemed to notice and hugged my shoulder, but I was already drifting back to sleep so I didn’t know, and didn’t care. I’m not sure if it’s because I trusted that I would be safe with Tounoin, or because I believed he was different from Oyama and that narcissistic, violent homosexual Yasaka. 

—

The next day was super, as if all the bad luck I had been having was turned upside-down. It was literally my lucky day. First of all, the manager of the bank came to visit me with a gift. He told me that due to a computer processing error, my salary — which should have been deposited into my account — had been transferred to another customer’s account. The manager bowed his grasshopper-like bald head and said, “Please keep this matter to yourself.” He left me a noshi envelope with a greeting card and a brush writing on it. Inside was two months of my salary. I showed it to Tounoin.

“This is how much they gave.” 

He sniffed in frustration, “I’m not sure if that is adequate compensation for their part in causing these difficulties.”

“Well, yes, but it’s all over now…”

“If that’s what you want, then it’s not my place to tell you otherwise.”

“But I feel bad, you know… crashing in front of your apartment and all…”

“I was happy to do it,” Tounoin said, turning away from me with a sigh. I remembered that I needed to find a new apartment as soon as possible; I felt bad staying here forever. 

The second lucky break came at a real estate agency in a neighboring town, where I went separately from Tounoin.

“There’s a one-bedroom and bath for 40,000 yen, a three-year old condo on the 6th floor.”

“In Fujimi-cho?” I was about to jump for it without question, but the old owner’s eyes flashed behind his glasses.

“To be honest, it’s been hard to keep occupied. Since this past April, three people have already left within a month of each other.”

“No way… did somebody just move out again?” The realtor shook his head in disbelief. 

“The person in the apartment above play music loudly at all hours of the night and day. But you can’t complain about it, because it’s occupied by the landlord’s son, so you know…”

What? Could that be…? “Is it a tall apartment building down the corner from a convenience store…?”

“Oh, do you know it? It belongs to the bank president, so the facilities are top-notch, but just that one room on the 6th floor has been vacant since June. The floor is the only part that isn’t soundproof, and nobody could stand the ‘noise’ coming from the ceiling. So the rent has been discounted by 80,000 yen.”

“How big is it?” The realtor gave me a look like I shouldn’t ask, but told me that it was a Japanese-style eight-tatami-mat room with a four-and-a-half-tatami dining and kitchen. It also had AC and heating. “I’ll take it,” I said. “40,000 for a one bedroom with bath, AC and background music is too good to be true, I’d even put up with a ghost or two.”

“Well, if you say so…” the agent pulled out a contract with a face that said ‘Don’t come crying to me later.’ The name on the rental contract was ‘Inmitsu Tounoin.’ I thought of an old gentleman with gray hair, but if he was Tounoin’s father he couldn’t be that old. Rent can be paid via bank transfer; so, he’s the son of a banker, I knew he wasn’t a commoner. I’ve got three months’ deposit and money for the key, plus rent for this month and next month thanks to the ‘condolences’ money from the bank —but that’s a small price to pay for luck. “Ah, also I’d like you to get a guarantor.” The agent pointed to a blank space on the contract, “Here’s where your name and address are, please put your seal here.”

“Is it okay if I bring it back in a couple of days?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Here’s the address. Oh, right, you know where it is, don’t you? Now, the key.”

I took the key and asked, “Which bank president is the landlord?”

“Fujimi Bank, sir?” He looked at me like he couldn’t possibly not know the president of a long-established bank in this area. 

“Oh… and that’s located in…”

“It’s in Seijo. But I’m the property manager. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.” It seems that I wouldn’t have a chance to cross paths with Tounoin’s father; I was a little curious what kind of person he is. On my way home, I stopped by Ishida-san’s Mozart. 

“Oh, in Tounoin’s building?” He smiled and said, “Well, I’m glad you found a nice place.” He smiled and said, “Since you found an apartment…” he pulled out a cardboard box from under the counter. It was full of sheets, towels, tea bowls, cups, pots and pans… “Kawashima-san is indeed a solid office worker. She made a ‘list of items needed to reconstruct a house’ rather than just gathering donation money, asked people to give their unused items from their houses, and it turned out to be enough for a whole house. That was the idea.”

“She’s going to make a great wife, I’m sure.” She knew that I’d mind if it was money, so she collected practical items. The fish that gets away is always big… “Um, so, could I get some coffee vouchers?”

“You don’t have to give anything back in return.”

“Yes, but I want to give something to Tounoin-san.”

“Oh, I see. So you want some coffee coupons?”

“It’s practical, isn’t it? Please, I’ll take three books of ten vouchers.” Ishida-san smiled a little apologetically; I’m sure that he knows I’m buying them as a way to repay him for the money he gave me when he visited.

“By the way, I’d like to talk to you about something,” Ishida-san stepped up to the counter, changing from owner of Mozart to that of Fujimi caretaker, “For our next piece, why don’t we do Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto?”

“A violin concerto?” 

Ishida-san looked around quickly and whispered with conspiratorial enthusiasm, “I got the hall reserved at the Civic Center. There was a cancellation for Sunday, November 27th.”

“So… would it be a regular concert?”

“Not anymore, it would be a proper concert.”

“Oh, are you sure we have enough time to prepare?” Ishida-san nodded smugly as I was leaning over the counter.

“I was thinking that we should do it this year, now that we have Tounoin-san with us. I really wanted to do it after New Year’s, but I heard that the hall would be under renovation from January to May. I happened across that cancellation, so I jumped at the chance even though I was a bit busy.”

“Yes, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

“So I thought I’d like to include the Mendelssohn.”

“That sounds great! But… what about the soloist?”

“There’s already one,” Ishida-san pointed at me.

“Me…? I’ll be the soloist?”

“Icchan agrees.” Come on…

“But we’ve never done a piece with a solo before…”

“So that’s why we should do it. It’s good for us to do one once and awhile.”

“But then what about the first violins…”

“We have Goto-chan, Miyake-chan, Kijima-san, Nitta-san, Yoshiko Suzuki-san, Hirota-san… why don’t you ask Haruyama-san to join from the seconds?”

“Then the second violins would be Ichiyama-san, Higashi-san, Hirai-san…”

“Seven people would be enough, right?”

“Yes, in terms of just numbers…” but when it came to balance of competence...

The door chime rang and a group of housewives walked in, and Ishida-san turned to welcome them and prepare some glasses of water. “Well, you should think about it, and discuss it with Tounoin-kun.”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to do a concerto, but…”

“All the strings were saying that they wanted Morimura-chan to do a solo.”

“Hah...haha.”

—-

On my way home my feet were skipping lightly. ‘We can have a concert, we can have a concert. For the first time in two years, Fujimi can have a concert!’ I ran around the corner, bounded up the stairs and opened the door with my freshly made spare key. The sound of the Brandenburg Concerto hit me, but I was deaf to it today.

“Tounoin! Tounoin! I slid down on my knees in front of him, where he was sitting cross-legged in his usual spot. “We’re having a concert! November 27th!”

Tounoin made a gesture of ‘I can’t hear you, please wait’ and went to stop the music. As soon as the sound stopped, I repeated myself, “A concert has been scheduled! Sunday, November 27th, Shimin Kaikan Hall! Ishida-san was able to get a date because of a cancellation, and asked me if I wanted to play the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto!”

Tounoin looked at me from in front of the console, and I realized that I was very excited in contrast to his calm demeanor. My face flushed. “No, but do you know, it’s been two years since we had a concert.”

“November?” Said Tounoin in a cold voice.

“I know it’s soon, so it’s going to be hard, but it’s at the end of the month… so it’s about three months away, right?

Tounoin’s complexion softened, “It depends on how we do it. I don’t mind.”

“Really? Great…! So…” he glanced at the envelope in my hand.

“Oh, did you get something?”

“I was kind of lucky today, I found an apartment as well.” I pulled the contract out of the envelope, and when I was about to show it to him, I noticed the look in his eyes was somewhat complicated. At once I felt something flutter in my stomach; it was the first time I felt that. “It wasn’t a bad idea to crash here, but it was an emergency situation for both of us. Anyway, the place I got is cheap, well-equipped, and convenient. I’ve already signed the contract.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Tounoin with a deep sigh. If I remained here, it would only cause more suffering… the word ‘Love’ is very similar to the word ‘Strange’...

“Well, actually, I do need a guarantor,” I opened the contract and placed it in front of him. “Would you mind?”

“Yeah, well that’s already...” he said as he picked up the contract with a hand that was trying not to show his reluctance… I froze. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, his normally cool, long eyes were round.

“Not bad, huh?” I asked. Tounoin secretly panicked and turned his head, pretending to read the contract. 

“...It’s okay, I guess. How much is it?”

“40,000. But it’s only a minute’s walk to the civic center. I think it’s great. Now, why don’t you say something?”

With his head down, Tounoin patted various pockets. Then, “I’ll go get a pen,” he said.

“I’ll also need your seal,” I said, starting to stand up.

“Please stay here,” Tounoin said, “...I’m afraid I’m going to have to hug you.” Then he ran off into the cabin. I laughed, I couldn’t believe that the man who sells himself on his pride and arrogance lost his nerve like that. Just because I happened to get an apartment in the same building as his, that’s all. Then I felt a stinging pain in my heart at the thought. I got up and went into the cabin, but when I saw Tounoin’s back at the kitchen table, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have the right to ask him if he wanted to continue being a snake charmer for the rest of our lives, and it’s hypocritical for me to consider his feelings when I made the decision that I wanted to be his friend and nothing more… I pulled another envelope out of my pocket and approached his back.

I was spoiled by his kindness, but that together with when he agreed to give up on pursuing me, for the time being made us even. “And also this. I don’t know if I can thank you enough, but I mean, I feel…” I put the envelope over his shoulder on the table. 

He opened it as delicately as if it were a sparrow’s tapestry and froze again, but this time he got over it in an instant. “Thank you, I’ll treat you to Mozart’s coffee for the time being.” He turned around and had put on his poker face… ha, he’s not good at accepting this.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll be over there to talk about everything until the performance.” Here as well.

“‘I’ll never go out with you for coffee or dinner,’' He said with a smile, reminding me of what I had told him. After all, this was the game between us. I want to make sure that we are friends, and Tounoin wants to develop into lovers. But I won’t be the one to lose.

—-

I woke up in the middle of the night after being kicked twice. The next morning, while Tounoin was making coffee and I was cooking bacon and eggs, I mentioned it to him.

“Well, you stole the blanket twice and gave me an uppercut,” he replied.

“I think even a double bed is too small for two men.”

When I glared at him, he said, “Well, it’s big enough if you’re embracing each other,” and laughed… that was the first time I ever heard Tounoin laugh out loud. The kitchen here is nice and bright. For the one in my apartment, it remains to be seen.

[the-deeds-to-shibden]

Monday 26 August 1839

[Quite a busy and pleasant day. Ann starts it with producing a quality sketch of Uppsala castle, before joining her wife for a book-browsing session at the university library, where Anne really gets stuck into exhaustive (and exhausting) descriptions of the architecture and shelving, with a view to implementing some of that back at Shibden (sigh). Another visit to the cathedral provides snippets of Swedish history, followed by a trip out to the Old Uppsala, the capital of pre-Christian Sweden. Unbelievably, Anne completely misses the grave of Anders Celsius in the church there, which could have inspired her to get herself a few more thermometers with a scale she hasn’t used yet. What an opportunity missed! But they get to enjoy some first-rate secret-recipe mead and another beautiful sunset.]

[up at] 6 50/”

[to bed at] 12 40/”

fine morning Fahrenheit 61º and sun out at 7 1/2 – breakfast at 8 20/”  to 9 – Ann sketching the chateau from our room window – left her to finish (to colour) her sketch a little and I off to the library at 9 10/”  sent for Ann at 9 40/” ‘Catalogue general de la litterature Française contenant les ouvrages publiés en France, ……. pendant l’ année 1837 …. avec table systématique pour les ouvrages imprimés en 1837 et les Journaux de 1838. publié par la Librairie Brockhaus et Avenarius. 1ere première année. 3 francs Paris, Brockhaus and Avenarius, Libraire Française- -allemande et etrangère. Rue Richelieu, no 60.  Leipzig, même maison. They refer to la Bibliographie de Monsieur Beuchot and le Bulletin de Monsieur Cherbuliez – and Bibliographie d’Allemagne, paraissant à Leipzig the above lying on the table of professor Skraeder ancient history with Arabic books (published here) etc. etc. Had his pedigrees and papers pasted into book with whity brown paper leaves left about 1 1/2 inches broad – books about the breadth and twice the length of one common quarto i.e. narrow folio size

Laerebog i de romerske oldsager af S. B. Bugge rector ved cathedralskolen I Christiania. med fem steentryk. Christiania 1837. Trykt I R. Hviids Enkes Bogtrykkerie og paa keder Forlag af G. Hansen.

Beitrage zur genauern Kenntniss der ehstnischen Sprache. Neunzehntes heft. Pernau, beim herausgeber. Reval, bei Bornwasser. 1828.

Initia Homerica by Th. Burgess a.m. London 1820. printed by Dove – sold by R. Priestley – given to Upsala  by ‘Thomas Burgess episcopus Salisburiensis donatus 1837’

the Italian cabinet? made at Augsburg – very curious – Christina’s snuffgrater and box looking like 

a broadish knife the box at one end and the blade a grater on which the tobacco leaves were grated Real musk in a little lead box like a bit of a small animal bag or pouch       with short 1/4 inch long like bristles on it – Christinas small fusils to kill fleas –  Gustaf 3 died 1792 left chest about 3 feet 6 inches x 6 feet and about 2 feet 6 inches broad – and black leather covered box           to be opened in 1842. 2 of his drawings in Indian ink           dated the one a chateau 1763. (26 September 1763)           and a bridge and two towers one at each end or thereabouts of the bridge           dated ‘Gustaf fecit d[ie] 19 September 1763 Drotningholm  at the library till 11 1/4 – gave the man 32 skillngs banco a one rigs dollar note – content he then shewed us the new library – not yet finished tho’ some books put there on the ground floor – there at 11 25/”  new library bookcases au premièr 6 1/2 x 2 1/4 red books, handbook which is about 6 1/2 inches long height up to gallery = about 4 yards – pilasters between the cases – 3 red books wide i.e. about 6 1/2 inches x 3 = 19 1/2 to 20 inches Racking or shelf-grooves at every 2 inches –  about 2 inches left in front of the cases for hanging doors if wanted lock-up doors with wire net at the old library 5 or 6 feet high against the bottom shelves there will be book cases to front the pilasters Salle about 58 yards long and about 5 yards wide across from pilaster to pilaster – grand entrance in the middle 5 cases on each side the door and then 5 windows on each side beyond these 5 cases respectively – greenish – white veined or waved marble (like my specimen of the holy sepulchre at home) window seats about 2 feet 6 inches high from the floor – whole breadth of window including frame = about 5 feet 6 inches whole heighth including framing = about 10 feet up to bottom of gallery – glass 6 panes in heighth - panes about 17 or 18 inches x 10 and 4 panes in breadth i.e. 2 in each 1/2 opening with a spagnolette the whole heighth of the window – 3 yards and taken up by the partition down the middle which parts the whole floor into two similar book-galleries, a ballustred gallery running all round at about 13 feet high from the floor – the man said there was says there are 120,000 volumes – floor diamond flags size of those formerly in the hall at Shibden, of red-greenish porphyry (like the windowseats) – 2 rooms at each end of the book rooms and between these 2 rooms (at each end of the building) a spiral staircase to the top of the building, and leading also to an immense salle (over the library, i.e. au seconde) to be galleried all round above? with portico behind the pillars underneath the gallery? – alcove (is a sort of throne to be there or what?) at left end as one looks on the town this immense salle entered also in the middle by the great staircase as below – 2 flights of steps taking up a breadth of about 13 yards and a depth of about 16 yards in a projection towards the castle the opposite front looking exactly along a long straight road to Dannemora and old Upsala and on to the town, and a little to the left on the cathedral as now renewed since its being burnt in 1702 – (chateau, right, going up great stairs and looking towards the town) at the new library till 12 5/”  at the cathedral at 12 1/4 – the monument to the memory of Linnaeus is in a little side chapel (left, near the great west doors as one enters ‘Carolo a Linne’ | Botanicorum | principi |             amici et Discipuli | MDCCXCVII.’ the a = von = de = noble (e.g. Thomas a Beckett) above the inscription is a bronze head – side face – très ressemblant, by J[ohan] T[obias] Sergell ‘A[nno]: MDCCXCIV’ beautiful brown whitish green veined granite? from Elfdal north of Falun the marble of the window seats etc. at the new library comes from between Norköping and Nyköping – i.e. from the forest of Kolmorden (the comma over the en in Linne is to double the e) 

Linnaeus’s grand daughter died here (Updala) last spring and left to Ridder Bielca who married her sister a fortune that would keep ten cavaliers 10 horsemen i.e. ten men and ten horses and the terrain (but that depends upon the goodness of the land) that would maintain one horseman = 8-10,000 dollars banco purchase money, the terrain containing forest, fisheries etc. everything here counted by how much land will keep a man or horseman – the academy has as much (as the man said yesterday) as would keep a hundred men – and a terre to keep a man costs 4,000 to 5,000 dollars banco to buy it –  In buying land one ought ot have 6 to 8 percent for one’s money –  fine tomb from Rome in 1793 of archbishop Carolus Fridrik Mennander nat[us] 1712 ob[iit] 1786 formerly bishop of Åbo who translated the bible into Finnish – whole length of him, sitting, leaning on ‘Biblia Fennica’ – good likeness – 7 allegorical female figures all on a tablet under the figure of Religion carrying a large cross and leaning on an urn ���  

chappel of Gustaf Wasa painted in fresco by

‘John: Gust: Sandberg pinxit 1831-1838’

Eric xiv and Jean iii sons of Gustaf Wasa and Charles ix his youngest son }

Left hand, on entering the chapel (behind the alter) the paintings are

over the pictures

arms      .  1st     Gustaf on horseback receiving the keys of Stockholm Riddarholm castle some years ago burnt down 

window .  2nd ____ on horseback (young) in a battle against the Danes

ditto    .  3rd _____ at Lubeck asking assistance – a Danish nobleman claiming him

ditto    .  4th   ______ at the peasants cottage in Dalecarlia with flail, entering the barn – a Dane seeking him

ditto    .  5th   _______ Haranguing the peasants in Dalecarlia

ditto    .  6th  _______ two bishops presenting him the 1st bible Eric 14 at his elbow who was again a boy, dressed in red

arms      . 7th ________ taking leave of the deputies, died soon after

 1 and 4 azure. 3 fold crowns (the arms of Sweden)

 2 and 3 azure. lion rampant or on 3 white wavy bands i.e. lakes (the arms of Gotheborg)

escutcheon of pretence arms of Gustaf Wasa

azure. a gold sheaf (gerb) called in Swedish vasa – supporters 2 lions or crowned proper

In the sacristie or room where they keep the 2 gold crowns lately taken respectively from the heads of Jean iii and his queen Catherine and some valuable gold cups etc. is the half length old wooden statue of the pagan God Thor – part of his left side gone and his right arm broken off from the elbow – gilded formerly – brought from old Upsala – many more old things all burnt with the cathedral in 1702 – this room is a sort of safe closet – safe from fire – 3 boxes of valuables put here as we should send plate to the bank for safety –            

Get at Stockholm, chez C. M. Carlson Roadbook of Sweden and Norway. 1830.  i.e. ‘Vägvisare’ Roadbook, bought a little one at Upsala.            for 12 skillings banco. –  came in at 3 3/4 – dinner at 3 55/” to 4 20/” – good – same as yesterday but herring-and-rice-and-potatoes-pudding with anchovy sauce instead of soup – off at 4 3/4 from Upsala alight at old Upsala at 5 1/4 – off to the tumuli close by the Dummer Cull judges’ hill first – then the 3 tumuli of Odin, Thor and Frea – all the 

very near together, and the      | cull, hill, collis. |      3 conical mounds very conspicuous all the way from Upsala – fine view from all especially from Frea because farthest from the church – quite close to Odin and impedes the view from him – good country about here –  more quite clear ground (clear of stones, boulders and rock) than we have seen elsewhere – therefore land valuable here – but no forest of two miles therefore wood dear – large extensive plain on all sides – merely a few bits on the Eastern side, that one can just see encumbered with stone to remind one of being still in Sweden – the church small – not worth going into but expected (disappointed) some to see there some funeral urns found in 1 of the tumuli – fine view of Upsala – its castle looks well from here – its 2 (there are only 2) round towers (North and Northeast corners) seen, and none of the ugly pediment side seen – the  2 cathedral-towers are seen as one – and the peasants’ church tower and one other church tower one seen in one line –  Beyond Frea’s tumulus a little range of hill and the foot of this and of the tumulus itself towards the village and Upsala studed with little hillocks – on the other side the tumulus and range of hill is a little    lake – Ann is sketching the church – she did the castle very nicely this morning – Old Upsala pretty little picturesque gardeny village –  a peep at the little River – a minute or 2 in the old church – nothing worth seeing in it – back at the house to drink our bottle of mead at 6 5/”  excellent – good as champagne – how to make it is a secret – heirloom secret – 24 Rigs skillings per bottle – a pink mead at 48 skillings but she has none at present – off again at 6 25/”  in 20 minutes a little rock and boulder and Sweden again – excellent road charming evening – beautiful sunset – Hogsta should be Uggelsta single house – poor little place – could not sleep there – next stage . . . Andersby . . . 2 1/8 miles – nice open country – sowing rye and reaping it –  at Dannemora no! Ӧsterby near Dannemora, at 11 5/” –  we had to call the people up – very fine day – Fahrenheit 62º now at midnight –  

Anne’s marginal notes:

Catalogue of French books Paris and Leipzig

§

Initia Homerica

Christina’s cabinet

New library

order such at Shibden?

vide bottom of next page

new library

salle au seconde

Kolmorden and Elfdal marble vide bottom of last page

manner of estimating property

bishop Mennander who translated the bible into Finnish

WYAS Catalogue:  SH:7/ML/TR/13/0009    SH:7/ML/TR/13/0010    SH:7/ML/TR/13/0011     SH:7/ML/TR/13/0012

One of the frescoes by Johan Gustaf Sandberg in Uppsala Cathedral showing the exploits of King Gustav I Vasa (Gustav Vasa Speaking to the Dalecarlians at Mora):

The three tumuli (the Royal Mounds) at Old Uppsala:

The church at Old Uppsala, which Ann sketched:

Interior of Carolina Rediviva, now the main building of Uppsala University library; a work in progress when Anne and Ann visited it and Anne described it so thoroughly:

[elizabethemerald]

Jim is Honest: Lie 6

Jim Lake Jr lies again and again to his loved ones. What if instead, he told the truth? How would that affect his relationships, and story of Trollhunters? Let’s look at all the major lies and omissions Jim made and let’s turn them on their head. This time Let’s say Jim is Honest.

Barbara gets a call every parent dreads, her child has been arrested. She has to leave work early to go to the police station. She finds her son’s teacher already there working to smooth things over. Is Mr. Strickler trying to help her son, out of the goodness of his heart, or does he have another motive? Perhaps she can figure out over a cup of coffee, but first she has to get her delinquent son home. 

Please reblog if you like! 

"Mom, did you just ask out my teacher?"

"Oh don't make this about me. You two are in big trouble. And for this?" Barbara held up the chubby tracker, her voice tight with her anger. 

She started the car and pulled away from the police station. Her mind was whirling. Jim was a good kid, he had never gotten in trouble before, and now here he was breaking and entering. And her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Strickler. After a few minutes of awkward silence Jim took a deep breath. 

"Uh mom. We didn't break in just for the chubby tracker." He said from the back seat. 

"Dude!" Toby whispered. 

"Toby I told her about the trolls. She knows I'm the Trollhunter." Jim whispered back. 

"Oh. Should I tell my Nana?" Toby asked. 

"That's up to you. I'm the one Bular wants to kill."

"So this had something to do with Trolls?" Barbara interrupted. 

"Yeah. One of the goblins we faced yesterday stole Toby's chubby tracker. We were able to use the tracker to find they were staying in the museum."

"We were going to just scope the place out but then we saw Ms. Nomura the museum lady!" Toby shouted. Barbara winced as his volume in the small space. "We thought the goblins might be laying eggs in her ears so we had to rush in and save her!"

Barbara made eye contact with Jim in the mirror. Goblins lay eggs in people's ears? Toby kept talking before she could ask. 

"And when we got inside I saw her, and Jim was trying to come up with a way to convince her to leave and suddenly she changed! She became a troll!"

Barbara almost slammed on the breaks as she turned around to face them. "She what?"

Jim took up the story from there. "Apparently she could switch between appearing human and troll. She attacked us. I was only able to stop her by tricking her into killing on the goblins. They all ganged up on her."

"Jim, how is that possible? Has Blinky mentioned anything like that?" 

"Blinky hasn't, but Mr. Strickler has."

"Wait you told Mr. S. too?" Toby said, incredulous. 

"Drop it Toby, if I had kept it a secret from everyone that would have included you!"

To forestall another argument in the back of her car Barbarba quickly asked, "What did Mr. Strickler say?"

Jim was silent for a moment deep in thought. "He said he had heard about some legends regarding trolls. About troll babies had been kidnapped and switched with human ones. They had all kinds of magic done on them. And now they're basically slaves. He called them changelings. Maybe that's what Ms. Nomura is!"

Barbara's mind was now whirring faster than ever. So some trolls could take on human form. That made the actions of a certain history teacher very interesting. 

"Did he say anything else about these changelings?"

"Yeah, he said that since I don't have the same biases as a troll, that maybe I could reach across old battle lines, offer a changeling my hand." He paused and looked at his own hand. "I don't think she wanted to take my hand."

"At least not while it's still attached to the rest of you!" Toby put in. Barbara watched her son grimace in her mirror. They were almost to the Lake house. After she pulled into her driveway she turned to face the two boys in the back. 

"I'm glad you are both unharmed. And I'm glad your first thought was to try and save that woman's life. But you both have to remember that there are still laws. Don't you think Bular would have been happy if you were stuck in prison? He could do anything he wanted and you would be powerless to stop him."

"So you're saying-"

"I'm saying if you're going to break into a building on Trollhunting business, next time don't get caught." Barbara said with a slight smile. The two boys relaxed. "But I will still have to go through the motions of making sure you two are grounded, to maintain our cover."

The smiles dropped off their faces, but she could see the twinkle in their eyes. "Head home Toby. Get some sleep."

The other boy got out of her car and hurried across the street to his house. Barbara and Jim walked inside their own home. As she set her stuff down, Jim fidgeted near the door. 

"Hey, since I was honest with you would answer a question for me?" He asked. 

Barbara was in the middle of preparing herself a cup of tea. "Sure thing kiddo."

"Are you actually planning on dating my teacher?"

Barbara almost snorted at the concerned tone in his voice. 

"If the situations were different, I might consider it. He's handsome, charming-"

"Gross mom!"

"Honesty, remember?" Barbara paused, getting her thoughts in order. "Have you told Mr. Strickler that I know about your Trollhunting?"

"No. It hasn't come up in our conversations yet."

"I know you're trying your best to be honest with us, but I wouldn't tell him if I were you."

Jim looked at her quizzically. "What are you thinking?"

"Now I only really have my instincts to go on…" she waited for Jim to nod. "But Walter's story just doesn't seem to make sense to me. You tell him trolls exist, and he feels that information is dangerous. Dangerous enough to make up a secret code so you two can discuss it."

Barbara took a sip of her tea and passed a cup to Jim as they both sat at the dining room table. Then she continued speaking. 

"And then he doesn't tell me? What would he do if something happened to you? Would he try and cover it up from me?" She looked away, even thinking of something happening to her child was a struggle, but if his life was in danger she wasn't going to be able to help him if she didn't think out the dire possibilities. "And then he tells you about changelings, trolls who can take on human form. Tells you, you have the chance to offer your hand. How would a human history teacher know about the wars between trolls?"

"You think Mr. Strickler is a changeling!" Jim stood up so fast he almost knocked his chair down, he immediately ran his hands through his hair. Barbara noticed his amulet started glowing in his bag. 

"I think it's possible." Barbara frowned. "But now we have to ask ourselves, why? How does Mr. Strickler, potentially a secret changeling troll benefit from telling you this information? It's possible that changelings are treated as poorly as he said, and he wants to change sides. Or he could be trying to trick you. Get you to drop your guard."

Jim rubbed the back of his head. "This is more complicated than I thought it would be. What do you think I should do?"

"Talk to Blinky. See how much of Mr. Strickler's story you can verify. We'll create a plan from there." 

He nodded, then fidgeted again. “You still didn’t answer my question. Are you planning on dating my teacher, even though you think he’s a troll?”

Barbara laughed. “Oh no, I’m not planning on dating him.” She laughed again at the thought. “I can tell he finds me attractive and I’m using that to my full advantage.”

She wiped a few tears from her eyes, then her face grew serious. “If he truly wants to change sides in this war it will put me in a great position to offer him my hand, as he puts it. And if he is trying to manipulate you into making yourself vulnerable? Jim you are my everything, I would use every tool in my possession to keep you safe. And if that includes a little harmless flirting? Walter Strickler will find that I can play his game just as well as he can.”

Shortly after after he went to bed. They had both agreed to pretend he was grounded to avoid suspicion. Barbara had no desire to punish her son when he thought he was saving Ms. Nomura's life. 

Still he would need to be more careful. They all would, if trolls could take on human form, their threats could come from anywhere. Would Jim be safe at school? Would she be safe at the hospital? She carefully looked around the house, would they be safe here, even in their own home?

Lie 1, Lie 2, Lie 3, Lie 4, Lie 5

[amehanaaa]

How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days

Happy Friday! How else can we celebrate besides reading some more Nalu? I love them so much.

I haven’t heard much feedback here on Tumblr, but I hope for those who are reading, you’re enjoying it so far :) 

Let’s get this show on the road! (Also can be read here.) 

Chapter 3 – Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 Words: 3790 Summary: Lucy and Natsu are determined to take the necessary steps to fulfill their lifetime dreams. Little do they know, they have both given themselves 10 days to achieve it.

                                                   ——————–

While being an inactive firefighter is the last job Natsu wants to have, he is still required to act like an active firefighter. Minus the obvious, he is required to attend the end of the week staff meetings.

Not only is it a time to hear what the active firefighters have seen throughout the week—which Natsu is admittedly jealous of—it is also a time for updating numbers, distributing chores, and rechecking inventory.

Every Friday, Natsu finds himself paying attention until his colleagues are finished sharing their testimonies. Then, he starts counting how many carrots he can eat before his stomach starts making strange noises.

At exactly noon, the firefighters gather in the meeting room and listen to the fire chief's weekly spiel. Natsu mindlessly taps his fingers on the edge of the table.

"You know what I noticed yesterday?" the fire chief says. "A stain on the—"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the station phone ringing. Natsu watches as one of his colleagues presses the phone against his ear. Natsu lifts a brow when the phone is extended to him.

"Hello?" he asks, confused at who would be calling him at this time.

"Natsu!" Lucy sings on the other end of the line. "I've missed you all day today!"

He winces at her loud voice. He glances at his colleagues, knowing fully well that they can hear her. He turns slightly away from them. "Uh, hey, Lucy. This is bad timing."

"You know, I just ate this salad—"

"Was everything alright with your roommate last night?" he interrupts her.

"She just wanted to show me the new books she bought!" she replies cheerfully.

"That's great," he responds. "Well, I have to go now. I'll talk to you once I'm off work, alright?"

"But, Natsu—"

He doesn't let her finish, setting the phone on the table. He lifts his gaze to find his colleagues staring at him, some with smug looks. Natsu clears his throat to slice through the awkward tension.

"Let's not talk about this again," he mutters. He turns back to the chief. "So, as you were saying?"

"Lu, are you listening to what I'm saying?"

Lucy looks up from her phone, blinking at Levy with a blank expression. "I was before Natsu texted me."

Levy puckers her lips in response. "I need you to listen to me here. I know you're having this relationship going on, but I need your advice for mine now."

"What do you mean?" Lucy tilts her head in confusion. "I think we both know the answer. Just tell Gajeel that you're not interested anymore."

"But I am still interested," Levy insists.

"Then why don't you tell him that?" Lucy counters as though it's obvious.

The two share a hard gaze. Lucy has begun to master the skill of maintaining consistent eye contact these past few days, so she isn't fazed. Levy, on the other hand, can only handle it for three seconds before she throws her hands in the air in defeat.

"Agh, fine! I'll tell him that we need to talk to tonight."

Lucy sends her friend a satisfied smile. "Baby steps."

A bell resonates behind them, signaling Lucy to step out of the way for an incoming customer. She decides to sit at a table nearest to the front counter. It's an unfamiliar feeling; it has been years since she could wander about Magnolia like this. Erza has never been one to permit her employees to have flexible schedules. But with the help of her experiment, she can finally visit Levy during her shift at the bakery.

Lucy watches as Levy places various breads into a paper bag. She is tempted to buy some herself, but a nearby plant pot catches her attention.

Once the customer has left, she points at the pot. "Are you selling that?"

"The pot or the plant?" Levy asks while reaching for it.

"Both," Lucy answers. She stands up to examine it, finding matted soil on top.

"My boss said something about it being a stubborn plant," Levy recalls. "He's been trying to grow it for weeks, but nothing has happened yet."

"I could take it off your hands," Lucy offers immediately. "I have an idea."

Levy lifts a brow at her eager friend. She knows that glint in Lucy's eyes—whatever it is, it's going to be good.

"You can just take it, then," Levy replies as she slides the pot to her. "I'm sure my boss won't notice that it's gone."

Lucy can't stop the grin forming on her lips. With all these ideas floating in her mind, she feels invested into the experiment like Natsu is invested into their relationship.

"Okay, I need to start going now." Lucy graciously takes the plant. "We're having a movie night tonight."

"Good luck!" Levy calls out as Lucy begins to leave. "Wish me luck with Gajeel tonight!"

"Good luck!" Lucy calls back over her shoulder. As a tingling sensation runs through her body, she makes her way to Natsu's place to start the show once again.

Meanwhile, Natsu takes a quick shower when he arrives back home. He doesn't want to think too much about what happened at work today. The thought that Lucy is clingier than he realized is enough for him to shiver.

Not that he sees a future with her, but he believes she has the potential to become something more if they try. But if she continues to show more toxic signs, he'll be ready to end their time together. After the ten days, of course.

These thoughts swirl in his mind as he watches a popcorn bag inflate in the microwave. The bag is almost ready when he hears several knocks on the door.

"It's open!" Natsu calls out as he pushes a button to stop the microwave.

"Smells like a movie theater!" Lucy enters the apartment and takes in a deep breath. She walks towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, what are you holding onto?" he asks, noticing her hands behind her back.

"Here it is." She proudly holds it in front of her. "It's a plant getting ready to sprout!"

He tilts his head. "Why did you bring that here?"

"It represents our relationship," she explains, searching the apartment for a place to set it. "The more we water our relationship, the more we'll grow!"

She decides for one of the windowsills. "I'm going to leave it here, okay? We can watch our relationship grow together!"

Natsu has to bite his lip so he doesn't say the first thought that comes into his mind. He settles with his third thought instead. "Ah, well, that's cool. I appreciate the gesture."

Lucy turns around with a shining smile. "Let's start the movie."

All the lights switched off with three popcorn bags, the couple sit on the couch to start the movie. They share a blanket, although it's mostly Lucy using it. Natsu can only use a blanket for so long before the blanket itself becomes too hot.

The movie they picked out happens to be one of Natsu's favorites. Lucy mentions that she has watched it a few times, which causes him to be happier than he thought it would. This movie reminds him of the days he would come home from school and have all the free time in the world to simply watch movies.

"This is one of my favorite parts of the movie!" Lucy excitedly whispers, although her voice is loud enough to blend in with the volume of the movie.

"Yeah, me too," Natsu agrees, throwing in a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Lucy looks over at him and watches his gaze focused on the screen for a few moments. She slightly leans closer to him. "What are you thinking about right now?"

Natsu glances at her, not having enough power to tear his eyes away. His voice comes off more like a question. "I'm thinking about the movie."

"But what's on your mind right now?"

"Well, the movie is."

Lucy leans in even closer. "Just the movie?"

The movie has become background noise as their eyes connect, which makes Natsu realize that he probably missed his favorite scene already. But as another tremor of electricity radiates between them, that doesn't matter as much as it would.

"Now I'm thinking about how beautiful you are," he says.

Lucy's eyes light up. "That was sweet. You're sweet."

She is about to lean against his shoulder, but he catches her lips instead. From what Natsu can hear, another one of his favorite scenes is about to come up. Before he becomes too lost into her lips, he pulls away.

With a warm face and warm lips, he reaches for her hand and turns back to the screen. "Okay, let's watch the movie now."

Natsu sinks further into the couch, secretly hoping that she received enough attention to the last the rest of the movie.

Much to his dismay, he isn't able to refocus due to Lucy occasionally shifting on the couch for a more comfortable position. Then, she has to use the restroom. After that, she goes behind him and massages his shoulders. By the time the movie is over, she has distracted him about thirty times.

"What a movie!" She sighs out as the credits start to roll. She stretches her arms and legs, extending them as much as they can.

"Yeah." He scratches the back of his head, unsure whether or not he should be annoyed that he didn't get the full movie experience. He chooses not to dwell on it too much knowing that he can just watch it again another day.

Natsu is about to call it a night, but Lucy speaks before he gets the chance.

"I love seeing characters be redeemed," she admits. She leans her head back against the couch and stares up at the ceiling. "It really shows their humanity, you know?"

Natsu watches her for a second before matching her posture. They sit next to one another, eyes settled above them.

"Would you say that the characters in the movie were redeemed or forgiven?" he asks.

"Being redeemed already shows that you're forgiven," she replies easily.

Natsu squints at the ceiling in confusion but is too intrigued at the topic to not delve deeper. "Mind explaining what you mean?"

Lucy pauses. Some part of her feels that she has no idea what she is saying, but another part feels confident enough to justify herself.

"Redemption is having your life transformed after you make a mistake," she begins. "I think forgiveness is a longer process that happens after you make the mistake. Sometimes it's even knowingly messing up.

"When you ask for forgiveness, you're acknowledging that your mistake exists. Through that, you learn compassion because your mistake is teachable now. Although it may be difficult, you can share the feeling with others, and guide them away from the selfishness you wish you avoided."

Lucy stops to look over at Natsu. His eyes are closed in order to absorb her words. He hums when he is finished processing, but she continues.

"Forgiveness is through expressing your regrets with sincerity. It's expressing that you're sorry that your mistake may have had the power to harm someone else. Sometimes we don't forgive because we're holding onto bitterness or we feel like the person doesn't deserve it.

"Therefore, I think forgiveness and redemption come out of a place of love. It starts like a tiny vibration. After redemption and forgiveness, everything about your life changes. It's a renewed, vibrating form of pure love. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's difficult to believe that's available to us, too," Natsu says, nearly taken aback by her words. He opens his eyes to look at her. "Lucy, do you realize how profound that sounded?"

Lucy returns his gaze with a bashful look. She can feel a blush scattering across her cheeks. Not only because of his genuine affirmation, but she wonders if her words revealed too much of her vulnerable thoughts.

"I feel like none of that made sense." She brushes herself off, just in case.

Natsu can't help but smile at her. As he sits up, he feels a sense of refreshment. This is his first time having a conversation like this with a person he is dating. Physical touch has always been what he relies on to form a closer attraction, but this is a whole new level of intimacy.

"You never fail to surprise me," Natsu blurts out.

Lucy feels her heart pounding in her throat. This developing feeling inside her chest is like an old friend. It only appears when conversations like this happen—real, intentional conversations. It happened so unexpectedly; it almost seems too good to be true.

She catches a glimpse of the time and finds that it's almost midnight. For the sake of both their hearts, she stands up from the couch.

"It's getting late," she starts.

Natsu nods—a hint of disappointment inside of him, although he isn't sure why—and walks her to the door. He leans against the doorframe, watching her step outside.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Lucy says.

Natsu continues to nod, but before she's too far away, he gently grasps her chin and brings her into his lips. They share a kiss—it feels just as real as their conversation.

Both of them can tell the feeling was different as they separate. They look at one another, the silence between them too heavy to ignore.

"Don't forget to water our plant," Lucy reminds him abruptly.

Natsu tilts his head back, laughing at the broken moment. "Yeah, I'll make sure it stays alive for us. Text me when you get back home."

Natsu stays outside of his apartment until Lucy enters the elevator. She is already dialing Levy's number by the time the elevator door is closing.

"You won't believe what happened tonight," Lucy immediately tells her.

"You always say that!" Levy exclaims on the phone. "Tell me what happened now!"

"I will when I get home," Lucy assures. She pauses after noticing that the elevator is slowing down and stopping at the next floor down.

As the door opens, she observes a man enter the elevator with her. She feels as though she recognizes him, but because it's late, she shifts closer to the wall and continues talking to Levy.

"These two days have been interesting, to say the least. Tomorrow, it's time to shift into second gear. But you know what, you were right. My article is going to be so much richer now that I have Natsu right where I need him."

"Lu, you're really becoming a different person through this!" Levy responds.

The elevator beeps as they reach the lobby. Without giving any attention to the man beside her, Lucy exits the elevator and makes her way out of the apartment complex.

As the door slides to a close, the man's deep breaths are louder than his pacing footsteps in the small elevator.

"What did I get myself into?" Gray groans and runs a hand through his hair. He pushes the button to his floor, forgetting the idea of going to see Natsu right now.

The size of the elevator seems to be shrinking each time it passes a new floor. Gray nearly jumps out when it reaches his floor. He is about to sprint into his apartment, but he is met with his best friend standing at the door and holding a bowl of popcorn.

"Natsu," Gray breathes out. "What are you doing here?"

"Popcorn," Natsu replies simply, extending the bowl out to him. "Leftovers from the movie night I had."

"With the girl?" Gray clarifies, moving past him to unlock his apartment. He can't bring himself to make eye contact with him just yet.

"Yeah. Her name is Lucy, by the way," Natsu responds. He doesn't hesitate to make his way into Gray's pantry and browse through his favorite midnight snacks.

Gray stares at his friend, suddenly feeling like his thoughts are trapped in an elevator. He isn't sure if he should tell Natsu that Lucy is playing him. Meaning, he would tell Natsu that he needs to end the relationship with her immediately.

On the other hand, he knows that Natsu is a man of his word. Although he doesn't want to see him getting hurt, Natsu will find a way to win this bet regardless.

Chewing on gummy fruit snacks, Natsu turns around with a grin. "This next week with her is going to be a breeze, Ice Princess. Start working on your speech for me."

Gray realizes the brightness in Natsu's eyes can't be ignored. He doesn't even remember the last time he saw Natsu genuinely smile like that.

But instead of letting his thoughts free, Gray snorts. "Don't get too confident yet. I won't be starting the draft until next week."

Natsu laughs, shaking his head. Since Lucy left his apartment, a feeling has been stirring in his heart. He can't put his finger on it just yet.

Little does he know, a feeling is stirring in Gray's heart, too. And none of it looks good.

                                                ——————–

Soon enough, Natsu and Lucy are waking up the next morning to day three. Luckily for Lucy, she gets to wake up at whatever time she wants.

Upon arriving at work, she has just finished swallowing the last bite of her bagel when Cana bursts out all of her questions.

"Tell me everything, Lucy! How was the movie night last night? How much did you drink? How late did you stay? Did you hook—"

"Everything is going the way I planned," Lucy answers shortly. "You'll have to read the rest on my article."

"That's not fair and you know it," Cana argues. "You get to see all of my behind the scenes!"

Lucy sighs with a defeated smile, not being able to hold the fight. "He's definitely invested enough where this next week is going to be a breeze."

"For him or for you?" Cana remarks.

"Definitely me," Lucy replies. "With the way I'm going to start acting today, I won't be surprised if he drops me sooner than the deadline."

Cana whistles, visibly impressed by Lucy's demeanor. Lucy reaches over to the computer and scrolls through her notes from the past few days. It's hard to believe that all of this has gone so smoothly.

Thankfully, Natsu's legitimate feelings have gotten easier to forget as the days go on. It's easy to detach her feelings after remembering her end goal, after all.

Cana is in the midst of explaining her wild Saturday night plans when Erza suddenly appears, interrupting their conversation.

"The notes you've written so far are great, Lucy."

Lucy faces her, concealing her surprise with a confident smile. She's been getting better at that lately. "Thank you, Erza."

"Are you doing anything tonight with him?" Erza asks.

"Yes," Lucy confirms. "He's making me dinner tonight."

"Wonderful. I know this is going to be gold. I look forward to the rest of your notes," Erza states before walking away.

Lucy is completely taken aback by the sudden affirmation. She shares a look with Cana before both of them burst out laughing.

The best part of the experiment so far is that Lucy has the luxury to end her Saturday shift earlier than ever before. Finally, she can leave the office during lunchtime.

On her way to a nearby restaurant, she begins to hear the rev of a motorcycle behind her. She glances over her shoulder to step out of the way. Her eyes widen when she realizes the bike is approaching her. She recognizes the sleek motorcycle from what feels like a lifetime ago.

As the owner parks his bike, Lucy quickly scans her surroundings to make sure she is safe enough to run if necessary. He removes his helmet while walking towards her. He stops when there's enough space between them for him to speak firmly without raising alarm.

Lucy examines the man, recognizing him from somewhere. "Have we met?"

"Are you using Natsu for your article?" he demands bluntly.

Lucy hesitates, instantly feeling her palms dampen. "Who are you?"

"I'm a close friend to him," he states. "I heard everything you said in the elevator last night. Do you realize what you're doing to him?"

Lucy swallows, her thoughts running a mile a minute. Although it kills her to speak to him this way, she has no choice but to make her job a priority. If hurting someone's feelings is the cost, then she is willing to do it.

"None of this is your business."

"I'm making it my business," he retorts. "Natsu is more than just a subject you can write for an article."

"What can I do for you not to say anything to him?" she asks, although she makes sure her voice doesn't waver. Not that she has the upper hand, but she is open to negotiating.

The man sets his gaze on her; his dark eyes are staring into her soul. Lucy can see that he is processing. She assumes it's a conflicting sense of loyalty, which she can definitely relate to right now. She doesn't hold back her surprise when he starts shaking his head.

"You know what… Nothing. I don't even know why I approached you."

With that, Lucy watches the man shove on his helmet and return to his bike. Before she can blink, he is already riding away. Not long after that, a heavy pit lands inside her belly. There's no way she can eat lunch after that.

Then, a sense of panic suddenly hits her. The direction the man went is in the same direction as the fire station.

Her palms are still damp as she hurriedly calls Natsu. She feels like each ring is long enough for his friend to ruin all her plans. He has ruined her plans four times when Natsu answers the call.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?" Lucy asks as calmly as she can.

"I'm eating lunch at the station right now. You can come see me if you want," Natsu offers.

"I'll be right there," she tells him before hanging up.

Not wasting a second, Lucy extends her hand out to the street and enters a taxi. She wishes that the buildings moving past her would travel much faster.

She isn't sure what she will do if she finds Natsu's friend at the station already. She surely wasn't expecting this kind of spontaneity, but she is determined to make it before he does.

And if she doesn't, then her experiment and her job will be absolutely ruined.

[beardyallen]

8 Crazy Nights (Part 1) - Captain Marvel, Work, and Food

Not sure if you all saw, but I tried to write this on Saturday...It did not go well. And now it's two days later, more stuff has happened, and documenting everything seems just a million times more daunting.

Nevertheless, he persisted.

However, I'm learning from my past mistakes and posting this in several pieces. Hopefully this isn't being read out of order.

If memory serves, and my memory is sufficiently muddled after the celebrating yesterday, I left off on Thursday, March 7th. The next day, I spent a goodly portion of my day in my office, cracking away at my random pedigree generator algorithm. Super (duper) exciting stuff, I know.

But R showed up that night to go see Captain Marvel at the nearby mall! And, as is apparently tradition when you visit someone's apartment, she brought me a gift. And what sort of gift do you bring a guy like me, you ask? Authentic German beer, obviously! Oh, and mangos, as I had divulged that I've only ever had dried mangos and mango-flavored things. Sadly, the mangos are still sitting in my fridge because I'm not entirely sure how one is supposed to eat them. *shrug*

The mall itself is quite strange (from my limited perspective), and I don't think I've described it yet. In a standard American mall, the jewelry shops are always on corners; here, the jewelry shop (as well as several other shops) are posted up with no walls in the middle of an open space. And approximately 25% of the shops are bakeries or coffee shops. This place really knows how to entice your sweet tooth! R picked up some mini cheesecakes for the trip the next day!! Super (duper) yummy!!

One of the other interesting aspects of the first floor is the manner in which one would buy shoes (there are like...10 "shops" that sell shoes). Once again, the shops have no walls, so you just kind of wander over to a display, the attendants hover around you to see if they can help (presumably?), and after you've picked your shoe, they give you carbon paper with an order, you walk to a desk 5 shops over to pay, then carry the receipt back and attendant who was helping you wipes off the shoes again and exchanges them for the receipt. I suppose it keeps clutter down and eases the shopping experience if you're trying on shoes from different displays? When I bought shoes a few weeks ago, it was quite an ordeal given that I had no idea what the expectations were and we couldn't really communicate with anything other than hand signals, nods, and shrugs.

The second (of five) floors has the supermarket and a plethora of men's clothing shops, half of which are athletic-themed shops like New Balance, Adidas, or knock-off-Air-Jordan, and the other half are more "high-end" clothing shops. Nothing in between. Oh! And more than 80% of the models in the pictures and spreads on the walls are white. Not sure how effective that is when 95% of your clientele doesn't look like that. *shrug* There _does_ seem to be a strong desire here to appear Western, but still...

The third floor is mostly women's clothing, and the fourth floor is partially empty. But the fifth floor has the cinema and food court. One comment about the phrase "Chinese food"...It's immensely inadequate. I don't know how many different cultural regions there are in China, but there's for sure at least 6 unique cuisines, all tied to a particular region. And when I say 6 _unique_ cuisines, even my uneducated, narrow American perspective (and palette) can distinguish between them. That, to me, is probably the biggest problem with describing a restaurant in the States as serving "Chinese food." But hey, I'm just an ill-informed American, so my opinion probably doesn't carry much weight.

The cinema itself was quite impressive as well. You know how when you walk into a cinema in the States, and you get hit with that theater-popcorn smell? It's buttery and savory and only sometimes kind of stale? Well, that didn't happen here. And not because they don't have popcorn, or that they don't serve as much popcorn...I think it's mostly because, as seems to be the case with everything here, the popcorn isn't of the buttery, salty variety. No, this popcorn is green or pink or caramel covered. Drizzled with chocolate syrup or some other sort of confectionary (is confectionary a real word?).

Oh, and it's not just the popcorn that got a make-over. The nachos here are...borderline unrecognizable. And that's not the say that you wouldn't recognize what was placed in front of you, because I think you would, but you just wouldn't recognize it as "nachos." Instead of warm tortilla chips with a cup of hot, sometimes-mildly-spicy cheese sauce and jalapenos and other nacho toppings, here you get a bowl of...warmed up Doritos. That's it. Just Doritos. That have been sitting under a heat lamp. R ordered them and offered me some. I said thanks-but-no-thanks. It was a strange experience, watching someone happily munch on heated up Doritos.

Captain Marvel was exceptional, though! The classic Marvel opening was modified a bit for this film, and if you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. For sure shed some positive number of happy-sad tears. The actors were all exceptional, and I was thoroughly impressed to see how seamlessly the special effects made it look like Samuel L. Jackson was 25 years younger and had both eyes! Crazy!!! Also seeing Phil Coulson return to the big screen was dope, and I loved the post-credit scenes! The music was perfect, too! I just wish the theater had the volume high enough to trigger the strong emotional reactions I'm used to feeling in Marvel movies.

After the movie, I stopped by the beer shop across the street where I met The One to buy a couple bottles of Founders beer. I swear, I had ever intent of enjoying them on St. Patrick's Day...but one of the two was consumed a couple days later, and the other wasn't opened until I got back from the celebration yesterday...and I don't think I would have really been able to appreciate the KBS in that particular state. So I have that to look forward to when I finish teaching tonight!

The next day was spent traveling with my coworkers to the Great Wall, and this seems like a decent place to pause the narrative.

Actually, we'll skip the Great Wall for a minute, and I'll describe the past week. It wasn't terribly eventful, but there are a few mildly-interesting pics. My work week consisted mostly of prepping my students' first exam, along with a practice exam (which I don't like doing, especially at this level). In fact, on Friday, after I finished writing and testing my random pedigree generator, I spent a good portion of time trying to get the numbers of a particular probability problem to work out.

I totally don't look like a crazy math fanatic at all..

When I wasn't working, I spent much of my time reading or playing video games. There's a Communications grad student here who also plays Super Smash Bros. We intend to maintain the friendship State-side as he has a few gamer friends in Denver who play SSB as well. And who have guessed that Petey Piranha would actually be an entertaining fighter?! Like..he's a glorified potted plant, but his attacks are interesting, effective, and rather distinct (see: he's a potted plant). *shrug*

Several of those nights involved take-out from KFC...which just released a new item. Or at least new to me. You'll note some orange fibrous material on the top, some sort of white cream in the middle, and the base is a waffle. Cuz nothing says "Kentucky Fried" quite like whatever the hell that is...(Not that KFC can even call themselves Kentucky Fried, nor is their chicken even real chicken! Sorry guys, someone's gotta say it!! lol)

The waffle itself is quite sweet, as is the white cream. Not sure the intended flavor of the cream, but my best comparison is the sugary drizzle stuff you put on toaster streudels. Struedels? Strueueudels? Not sure how to spell that, and Googling it would require a smoothly operating VPN which I just don't have the patience to deal with right now. And the orange stuff on top? It's dried crab. Which I knew in advance as I'd had it on the hike to the underground river and caves. All-in-all, it surpassed my expectations, but I don't think I'll get it again...

Oh, and dinner on Friday night consisted of lamb spine. Yup. The spine. Of a lamb. Technically, it was lamb spine hot pot, but let's be real: the stand-out contributor isn't the heat or the pot or the brine. It's the spine.

You can see a bunch of vertebrae just boiling away in there. You still use chopsticks, but one of your hands has a plastic glove. Oh! And you can push your chopstick through the hollow center of the vertebra to get at some of the marrow and what we could only assume was part of the spinal cord. I ate mine, but the only other person who was lucky(?) enough to find one didn't partake.

Other than some rather standard beer, CB ordered us a bottle (half a fifth) of some sort of herbal liquor. E, another instructor, mentioned a commercial for the product which seemed to suggest that this was the perfect gift from a marrying-age girl's new fiance to her father upon their first meeting. "Made for the man!" It was somewhere between a whiskey and an amaretto, but the sweet taste was distinctly floral or herbal or something. It was pretty good! Definitely something you sip to enjoy.

I have one more food experience to share, but it fits better in a different part of the story, so I'll stop here and pick up with The Great Wall in my next post.

Sláinte,

BeardyAllen

[riichardwilson]

Google’s search terms move will make millions in ad spend invisible to advertisers

This morning, I negated a word that cost a campaign more than $3 for the one click it received in a brand campaign last week. I didn’t add the whole query, just one irrelevant word that triggered a brand keyword. Going forward, I might not ever see that type word or know if it showed up across multiple low-volume queries.

As we reported yesterday, Google has notified advertisers the search terms report will “only include terms that were searched by a significant number of users.” It has given no details about what “significant” means. The company told us the reason for the change is “to maintain our standards of privacy and strengthen our protections around user data.”

Unsurprisingly, the move has angered advertisers.

Is it too much to ask that they define “significant” and give some sort of acknowledgement to what this does to the people who work in the platform daily?

I may not make a huge impact, but I can direct spend off their platform.

— Amalia Fowler (@amaliaefowler) September 3, 2020

To be clear, maintaining and respecting user privacy should be a priority for tech companies like Google as well as for marketers. Google should keep personally identifiable information (PII) and otherwise sensitive queries that could be tied to someone out of search terms reports and it’s other platforms (the amount of PII that gets passed through to Analytics is a topic for another day). But, Google’s oblique communication about this change has left the door open for skepticism about its motives.

The “not provided” privacy issue is nearly a decade old

Next fall will be the 10th anniversary of “not provided.” Google started limiting visibility into the search terms that drive organic traffic to websites in 2011 for users logged into Google, again citing privacy. The so-called “not provided” issue (how that traffic appears in Analytics reports) has frustrated site owners ever since. For whatever reason — Google’s never been clear about it — the company has continued to surface that data to advertisers in the search terms report.

Is it hypocritical and self-serving to give this data to advertisers and not to others if privacy is behind the decision? It’s hard to deny. Limiting search term data would have undoubtedly hurt Google’s ad business, though advertisers have had a pretty good argument that they’re paying for the clicks and should have access to be able to eliminate wasted ad spend and optimize their campaigns. When “not provided” happened, keyword buying was the only way to buy search ads, and the way keywords matched to search queries was relatively straightforward.

So why make this change to ad search terms now?

We don’t have clear answers on why now. Google’s not saying.

We can either take Google’s statement at face value:

That there was suddenly a privacy epiphany about this data, or that there were enough specific scenarios detected to raise attention, or that this is a reaction to the increase in data privacy regulation and anti-trust scrutiny. We don’t know if there was a specific trigger. GDPR went into effect in 2018. CCPA went into effect Jan. 1 of this year, enforcement started Jul. 1. We know Google had CCPA on its radar because it introduced its solution for advertisers last November (unlike Facebook which waited until July).

Or we can be more skeptical:

Google isn’t providing responses to follow up questions we’ve asked. Regardless of Google’s intentions, there are millions, if not billions, of dollars in ad spend reflected in this longtail data. It’s no wonder advertisers are looking for more answers and clearer communication.

Last quarter, Google’s Search business was hit hard by advertisers pulling back amid the pandemic. The company generated $21.3 billion from Search and other properties such as Maps, a 10% drop year-over-year. (Total revenues were off 8%, marking the company’s first year-over-year decline.) I’d like to think this isn’t a revenue-incentivized decision, and it is certainly reflective of the trend toward automation (more on that later), but it’s nearly impossible not to view this kind of decision, at least in part, though this lens.

Does this longtail search query data really matter? What’s the big deal if a keyword only ever gets one click?

All that data adds up to big money and important insights for advertisers. Based on what some are seeing, advertisers could lose visibility into the search terms that account for a quarter or more of their ad spend.

There’s this:

I’m going to flip what @sengineland‘s @GinnyMarvin suggested in the email this morning. Don’t look at search terms with CLICKS <5. Look at IMPRESSIONS <5. I filtered impressions <2 for the past 14 days; 35.44% of my spend came from those terms. #ppcchat

— Eric Heiken (@EricHeiken) September 3, 2020

And this:

It is entirely possible that we’re losing data for at least 51% of ad spend. At a minimum it’s going to be at least 30% of ad spend.

Google taking this data away from us will have an absolutely staggering impact on accounts big and small.

This is an absolutely outrageous.

— Collin Slattery (@CJSlattery) September 2, 2020

Digital agency Seer looked at the initial impact of this change and calculated that Google Ads now “hides search terms for ~28% of paid search budgets and removes search term visibility of 20.4% of PPC clicks.” Meaning:

For every $100K you spend on Google search, you get search term data for $71,000 of it.

For every 100K clicks you get, you see search term data for 77,900 of those clicks.

Source: Seer

The irrelevant word that showed up in that $3 search term I negated this morning could be sprinkled across many other low-volume (again, we don’t know what the threshold is) search terms and make a substantial dent in that company’s marketing agency budget. And, nobody would be the wiser.

The implications for small businesses, in particular, are huge.

Moving away from keywords — All aboard the ML train

Search advertising was built on keyword targeting. Then came Facebook and it’s audience targeting power with pinpoint “people-based marketing agency” capabilities.

And at the same time there have been massive advancements in machine learning and AI.

Google has subsequently marched toward audience targeting and away from keyword targeting, diluting match types and introducing campaign types that don’t use keywords at all. As I wrote last year, when Google extended same-meaning close variants to phrase and broad match modified keywords:

The days of zero-keyword search campaigns have long been predicted as machine learning has taken over and audiences have come into play. In fact, those days are already here with automated campaign types such as Local campaigns, Smart campaigns and App campaigns.

https://searchengineland.com/is-Google-prepping-to-phase-out-etas-339964A more recent example of this shift to machine-learning powered audiences: In July, Google introduced audiences based on new predicted purchase and churn metrics in Google Analytics. (On the ads front, Google is making its automated responsive search ad format the default in a current test.)

This requires more trust than Google has earned

I’m no Luddite when it comes to automation, machine learning and AI. If it means better results and less work, bring it on. But, we aren’t at a point where marketers can take our hands entirely off the steering wheel.

Let’s say we put aside the argument that advertisers should have access to (non-PII) search query data because they are paying Google for those clicks. For advertisers to be remotely comfortable with this change, they need to trust that the algorithms that match query intent to keywords are as good as Google would like us to believe they are.

No doubt, the algorithms are getting better. But, the proof that they are far from perfect is in … those search terms reports.

Google hasn’t said this, but I can imagine the response now: “Our data show that .000001% of advertisers actually act on that data and add negative keywords.”

Whatever the number, it doesn’t matter.

What’s next?

“We’re continuing to invest in new and efficient ways to share insights that enable advertisers to make critical business decisions,” Google said in its statement to us. We’ll have to wait to see what this means.

In the meantime, advertisers will continue to feel like they’re yelling into the void. This move also potentially squanders the goodwill the company garnered by issuing ads credits to businesses hurt by the pandemic. As we head into the critical fourth quarter, more critical than ever given the pandemic, advertisers will be forced to navigate without visibility into a sizeable share of their ad spend — or look elsewhere.

About The Author

Ginny Marvin is Third Door Media’s Editor-in-Chief, running the day to day editorial operations across all publications and overseeing paid media coverage. Ginny Marvin writes about paid digital advertising and analytics news and trends for Search Engine Land, marketing agency Land and MarTech Today. With more than 15 years of marketing agency experience, Ginny has held both in-house and agency management positions. She can be found on Twitter as @ginnymarvin.

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/googles-search-terms-move-will-make-millions-in-ad-spend-invisible-to-advertisers/ source https://scpie.tumblr.com/post/628322108149235712

[scpie]

Google’s search terms move will make millions in ad spend invisible to advertisers

This morning, I negated a word that cost a campaign more than $3 for the one click it received in a brand campaign last week. I didn’t add the whole query, just one irrelevant word that triggered a brand keyword. Going forward, I might not ever see that type word or know if it showed up across multiple low-volume queries.

As we reported yesterday, Google has notified advertisers the search terms report will “only include terms that were searched by a significant number of users.” It has given no details about what “significant” means. The company told us the reason for the change is “to maintain our standards of privacy and strengthen our protections around user data.”

Unsurprisingly, the move has angered advertisers.

Is it too much to ask that they define “significant” and give some sort of acknowledgement to what this does to the people who work in the platform daily?

I may not make a huge impact, but I can direct spend off their platform.

— Amalia Fowler (@amaliaefowler) September 3, 2020

To be clear, maintaining and respecting user privacy should be a priority for tech companies like Google as well as for marketers. Google should keep personally identifiable information (PII) and otherwise sensitive queries that could be tied to someone out of search terms reports and it’s other platforms (the amount of PII that gets passed through to Analytics is a topic for another day). But, Google’s oblique communication about this change has left the door open for skepticism about its motives.

The “not provided” privacy issue is nearly a decade old

Next fall will be the 10th anniversary of “not provided.” Google started limiting visibility into the search terms that drive organic traffic to websites in 2011 for users logged into Google, again citing privacy. The so-called “not provided” issue (how that traffic appears in Analytics reports) has frustrated site owners ever since. For whatever reason — Google’s never been clear about it — the company has continued to surface that data to advertisers in the search terms report.

Is it hypocritical and self-serving to give this data to advertisers and not to others if privacy is behind the decision? It’s hard to deny. Limiting search term data would have undoubtedly hurt Google’s ad business, though advertisers have had a pretty good argument that they’re paying for the clicks and should have access to be able to eliminate wasted ad spend and optimize their campaigns. When “not provided” happened, keyword buying was the only way to buy search ads, and the way keywords matched to search queries was relatively straightforward.

So why make this change to ad search terms now?

We don’t have clear answers on why now. Google’s not saying.

We can either take Google’s statement at face value:

That there was suddenly a privacy epiphany about this data, or that there were enough specific scenarios detected to raise attention, or that this is a reaction to the increase in data privacy regulation and anti-trust scrutiny. We don’t know if there was a specific trigger. GDPR went into effect in 2018. CCPA went into effect Jan. 1 of this year, enforcement started Jul. 1. We know Google had CCPA on its radar because it introduced its solution for advertisers last November (unlike Facebook which waited until July).

Or we can be more skeptical:

Google isn’t providing responses to follow up questions we’ve asked. Regardless of Google’s intentions, there are millions, if not billions, of dollars in ad spend reflected in this longtail data. It’s no wonder advertisers are looking for more answers and clearer communication.

Last quarter, Google’s Search business was hit hard by advertisers pulling back amid the pandemic. The company generated $21.3 billion from Search and other properties such as Maps, a 10% drop year-over-year. (Total revenues were off 8%, marking the company’s first year-over-year decline.) I’d like to think this isn’t a revenue-incentivized decision, and it is certainly reflective of the trend toward automation (more on that later), but it’s nearly impossible not to view this kind of decision, at least in part, though this lens.

Does this longtail search query data really matter? What’s the big deal if a keyword only ever gets one click?

All that data adds up to big money and important insights for advertisers. Based on what some are seeing, advertisers could lose visibility into the search terms that account for a quarter or more of their ad spend.

There’s this:

I’m going to flip what @sengineland‘s @GinnyMarvin suggested in the email this morning. Don’t look at search terms with CLICKS <5. Look at IMPRESSIONS <5. I filtered impressions <2 for the past 14 days; 35.44% of my spend came from those terms. #ppcchat

— Eric Heiken (@EricHeiken) September 3, 2020

And this:

It is entirely possible that we’re losing data for at least 51% of ad spend. At a minimum it’s going to be at least 30% of ad spend.

Google taking this data away from us will have an absolutely staggering impact on accounts big and small.

This is an absolutely outrageous.

— Collin Slattery (@CJSlattery) September 2, 2020

Digital agency Seer looked at the initial impact of this change and calculated that Google Ads now “hides search terms for ~28% of paid search budgets and removes search term visibility of 20.4% of PPC clicks.” Meaning:

For every $100K you spend on Google search, you get search term data for $71,000 of it.

For every 100K clicks you get, you see search term data for 77,900 of those clicks.

Source: Seer

The irrelevant word that showed up in that $3 search term I negated this morning could be sprinkled across many other low-volume (again, we don’t know what the threshold is) search terms and make a substantial dent in that company’s marketing agency budget. And, nobody would be the wiser.

The implications for small businesses, in particular, are huge.

Moving away from keywords — All aboard the ML train

Search advertising was built on keyword targeting. Then came Facebook and it’s audience targeting power with pinpoint “people-based marketing agency” capabilities.

And at the same time there have been massive advancements in machine learning and AI.

Google has subsequently marched toward audience targeting and away from keyword targeting, diluting match types and introducing campaign types that don’t use keywords at all. As I wrote last year, when Google extended same-meaning close variants to phrase and broad match modified keywords:

The days of zero-keyword search campaigns have long been predicted as machine learning has taken over and audiences have come into play. In fact, those days are already here with automated campaign types such as Local campaigns, Smart campaigns and App campaigns.

https://searchengineland.com/is-Google-prepping-to-phase-out-etas-339964A more recent example of this shift to machine-learning powered audiences: In July, Google introduced audiences based on new predicted purchase and churn metrics in Google Analytics. (On the ads front, Google is making its automated responsive search ad format the default in a current test.)

This requires more trust than Google has earned

I’m no Luddite when it comes to automation, machine learning and AI. If it means better results and less work, bring it on. But, we aren’t at a point where marketers can take our hands entirely off the steering wheel.

Let’s say we put aside the argument that advertisers should have access to (non-PII) search query data because they are paying Google for those clicks. For advertisers to be remotely comfortable with this change, they need to trust that the algorithms that match query intent to keywords are as good as Google would like us to believe they are.

No doubt, the algorithms are getting better. But, the proof that they are far from perfect is in … those search terms reports.

Google hasn’t said this, but I can imagine the response now: “Our data show that .000001% of advertisers actually act on that data and add negative keywords.”

Whatever the number, it doesn’t matter.

What’s next?

“We’re continuing to invest in new and efficient ways to share insights that enable advertisers to make critical business decisions,” Google said in its statement to us. We’ll have to wait to see what this means.

In the meantime, advertisers will continue to feel like they’re yelling into the void. This move also potentially squanders the goodwill the company garnered by issuing ads credits to businesses hurt by the pandemic. As we head into the critical fourth quarter, more critical than ever given the pandemic, advertisers will be forced to navigate without visibility into a sizeable share of their ad spend — or look elsewhere.

About The Author

Ginny Marvin is Third Door Media’s Editor-in-Chief, running the day to day editorial operations across all publications and overseeing paid media coverage. Ginny Marvin writes about paid digital advertising and analytics news and trends for Search Engine Land, marketing agency Land and MarTech Today. With more than 15 years of marketing agency experience, Ginny has held both in-house and agency management positions. She can be found on Twitter as @ginnymarvin.

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/googles-search-terms-move-will-make-millions-in-ad-spend-invisible-to-advertisers/

[skgway]

1823 July, Fri. 18

7 55/60

12 50/60

1/2 hour in the stable (look after the horses, giving Hotspur oat-cake) and just walked a little down the lane to see that the hay-makers were at work – At breakfast at 9 1/2 from 10 to 11 10/60, sauntered with my aunt into the Allan-car to see the hay-makers there – And weeded the quick-wood hedge planted there in the winter – Making dye and blacking for the gig after M– [Mariana]’s receipt –

At 11 40/60 took George in the gig, and drove the black mare outside Skircoat moor – In returning called at Mr. Wiglesworth’s and brought back Baines’s Yorkshire Directory etc. 2 volumes which Mr. W– [Wigglesworth] yesterday promised to lend us –

Got home at 1 10/60 – Went into the hayfield (the Pearson Ing) with my aunt and did not come in till 1 3/4 – Curled my hair, had it pinched ready for evening – Note from Miss Pickford, a line or 2 to say her nephew Sir Joseph Radcliffe was come to Savile hill, and she could not walk with me this afternoon – We were to have met at Whitley’s at 4 1/4 – Sent the servant back with my compliments no answer required –

Mean to write her a little note relative to her question when she last drank tea here about the funeral rites of the Scythians – Looking over Larcher’s notes on the subject; turned according to his reference, to libro iv. capitulo 1. Ælian – Hustled over Plutarch’s lives at the name Theodosus; but of course could not find what I wanted, not having Plutarch’s libro αὐταρϰῪϛ Ὑ ϰακία etc. An vitiositas ad infelicitatiene sufficiat vide Ælian as above, and Larcher volume iii. page 491 –

Wrote the last 9 lines of today, dressed and went down to dinner at 4 55/60. At 5 3/4 down the old bank to Well-head, got there at 6 by the church – Only the family – Mr. and Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] and their 3 oldest daughters – Speaking of parliamentary elections said there was no subject on which I felt more warmly – Wished for another contested election, and that we might be able to bring in 2 ministerial members –

Mr. Wortley we all observed was likely to have a seat with the pews – When should we get in his place – Lord Harewood had not a son fit for it – We did not know whom to mention – But so far from 2 blue members Mr. W– [Wortley] feared we should not have one – I maintained Mr. Lascelles had lost his contested election thro’ want of better management and the rascality of his York attorney, not Woolley, who kept letters (respecting votes) in his pocket unopened till it was too late for them to be of use –

But the other party always outwitted us – We were always too late, or too supine – Coupled Mr. W– [Wortley] on his good judgement in not voting at all at the election of a law – Against to the navigation company – He said it was neither forgotten nor forgiven by some of the party (of course) Mr. and Mrs. James Stansfield) who said Mr. W– [Wortley] acted thus on account of religion – and “the election was lost for righteousness sake” – (Mr. James S– [Stansfield] is a unitarian) – This led me to remark that Mr. W– [Wortley]’s vote could not have gained the election: as it was 2 gents voted who had no votes; and, to say nothing of this, my uncle as chairman would have had the casting vote, and thus must have given the election to Mr. James Norris –

I then observed pretty severely upon the means the Messieurs Rawson and Briggs had taken in favour of Mr. James S– [Stansfield] their instigating Mrs. Christopher Saltmarshe’s note to me (of Tuesday 27 May 1823) begging me to use my influence with my uncle “that in case” (to use Mrs. S– [Saltmarshe]’s own written words) “Mr. L– [Lascelle] had promised has vote to Mr. N– [Norris] and at the same time, did not feel interest in his obtaining the appointment: but had given his vote, as many do – to the first applicant and not from wishing him to succeed. And if it would not be taking too great a liberty to ask such a favour – that he would have the goodness not to present himself, at all, at the election but preserve a neutrality”  –

I observed that a note to ask me to ask my uncle to break his word if given, was an insult; that, if almost any one else had ventured to do such a thing to me, I should never have spoken to them again, but then I excused Emma; it must be her ignorance – Her yielding to her brother Mr. Stansfield Rawson; I knew, I felt assured, she did not mean an insult; she had even so excused herself and so apologized in her note that I would not take any serious notice of it, but, being out when the note arrived, I had never written any answer to it but merely called, and turned it off in joke – Adding that they little thought how much I was the last person in the world to whom such a note could be addressed with impunity, and that, so far from influencing my uncle as they wished, I had done just the contrary; –

For, in fact, my uncle’s vote was not promised – He was at liberty to stay at home if he chose he had made no promises, he had merely said to Mr. N– [Norris]’s oldest brother when he called, that he “thought he should not be his enemy” – But I told my uncle the easiest way would be to say at once, he had promised his vote – And if it was possible that he should be determined to go to vote for Mr. N– [Norris]. Thus, said I, they absolutely defeated their own ends –

Said I had merely laughed to Emma, saying her note was far too late – She ought to have written a week before – I mentioned too, to the W– [Waterhouse]s having drank tea at Lightcliffe some time before this, and that what Mr. P– [Priestley] said had put me a little on my guard, for he, Mr. P– [Priestley], was anxious not to have Mr. N– [Norris] elected, but tho’ I did not then agree with him (knew nothing of Mr. N– [Norris]’s alleged setting himself up – Being too meddling – Too blabbing – Likely to injure the navigation – Concerns by too much influence, his older brother being clerk to the company) yet I had merely laughed and said Bless me, we must think of all this –

We have all been gulled into thinking Mr. N– [Norris] a very proper person and said if we had a hundred votes we should give him them all – But I would tell my uncle what he (Mr. P– [Priestley]) said, and we must think of it – Determined then to advise my uncle to give Mr. N– [Norris] his vote, tho’ it was quite unnecessary to tell the P– [Priestley]s this –

It appeared that Mr. and Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] had gone to the Saltmarshes about 1/4 hour after Mrs. Saltmarshe had sent the note – They condemned it at the time, so did Mrs. Rawson of Stony-Royde; and Mr. Saltmarshe declared, if he had been at home, Emma should not have sent it – But said I, the matter did not rest here; for afterwards there came a note (I believed in Mr. Stansfield R– [Rawson]’s hand-writing) written in the names of the bank-firm to my uncle himself, making the same request Emma had done; and still, not satisfied with this, Mr. Briggs, bringing with him Mr. William Priestley (of Lightcliffe) had after this called on my uncle; and Mr. B– [Briggs] had the effrontery or ignorance to make the same proposal to my uncle of staying at home – Of breaking his word if given –

I believed my uncle was a little agitated (he looked so when he returned to us in the breakfast room) that any man should make him such a proposal – But he calculated on the ignorance of the person – Knew he could not mean to insult him – Kept his temper, and calmly said –  “He could not do it – He must be consistent with himself” – Mr. W[illiam] P[riestley] knew too well what he was about to say a word of such a thing – He said nothing but simply that he thought if his uncle had been alive (the late John Walker Esquire of Crownest) he would have given his vote to Mr. Stansfield –

Both Mr. & Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] quite agreed in the justice of my remarks – Mr. W– [Waterhouse] quite surprised that Mr. Stansfield R– [Rawson] – Should have written such a note – He never knew of this near of Mr. Briggs’s calling – He knew they had done this to a Mr. Crossley (at or near Rochdale) whom they had persuaded to stay away, after he promised to give Mr. N– [Norris] his vote; – He knew they had tried to persuade Mr. Thomas Dyson of Willow-edge to do the same; but he had never thought they would make such an attempt with my uncle – Broadly insinuated, he did not think they durst – It was an insult to a gentleman –

The subject turned for a minute or 2 to Mrs. Empson – Mrs. Waterhouse had heard something I had said of her (Mrs. W– [Waterhouse]) and she had “long meant to give me a wipe” – I saw Mr. W– [Waterhouse] was a check upon her – He did not wish her to name it – At last I succeeded in learning that I “was very cool”, but I had said “I never saw Mrs. Empson so like Mrs. Waterhouse” that is as she (Mrs. E– [Empson]) was when she was telling her mind – I replied I had no recollection of making such a speech: it was very unlike me to do so: nor did I believe I had made it – But I perhaps I might  

Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] must be aware the similitude might be good in 2 points – I had seen Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] out of temper and she had once behaved to me in a very unintelligible way: but I had forgotten or rather overlooked it, and it was very unlike me to revert to it in such a many –

If I had said it at all, it must have been merely to my uncle and aunt at home; but certainly if I really had said it elsewhere it was in confidence to Mrs. Rawson of Stony Royde or more probably to Mrs. Saltmarshe (which however I did not could not believe to be the case unless one of them should assert it); and I should know better how to say things in confidence in future –

However; I begged Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] to understand that said or unsaid I was very happy to make her any and every apology in my power, laughing and adding I knew her to be really good at heart – I would not quarrel with her – She was now a privileged person, and might say what she liked – As for Mrs. E– [Empson] “Love rashly formed too often ends in hate”, and I dared say she how hated me as much as she had ever done the contrary –  “No! No! You are mistaken she does not do that” – “Then”, said I, “I have done her unjustice but it is too late now to say anything about it – It is a dead cut between us – I may speak to her at other places or how I did so in York – But here perhaps I may take no notice of her at all” –

Mrs. W– [Waterhouse] and I parted very good friends and I came away at 8 55/60 – Mr. W– [Waterhouse] set off to walk a part of the way home with me, came all the way, I persuaded him to come in to see my uncle and aunt, and he sat with us till 10 55/60 – As we walked along, I asked if he did not think this business of the Greenups a rascally thing: of course, he did not like to say yes, at once but certainly did not contradict it, quite the contrary –

He said no attorney in the town would have done for them for Mr. James Norris has unless it was a young man, and had a character to lose – But he had gone thro’ a great deal – He had been kicked out of the room, and buffeted about, and abused – Ashewed, very worthy man (a creditor of the G– [Greenups]) had said to Mr. W– [Waterhouse] that they ought to be very much obliged to Mr. N– [Norris] they ought to make him a very handsome present, but perhaps he had done himself more harm than any good the G– [Greenups] could do him – 

I said, had my uncle known all this before the election, he would have staid at home – For he had too much the feeling of a gentleman and the principle of an honest man to countenance, or appear to countenance such conduct in any one – I thought the G– [Greenups] would make £20,000 by this business – Mr. W– [Waterhouse] thought they would make half thin debt – That if they owe as was said fifty-thousand pounds according to Mr. W– [Waterhouse] they will clear £25,000 – I thought such things ought not not to be overlooked – such people ought not to be noticed – Mr. W– [Waterhouse] agreed; but, said he, “these things get over, and in a few years are forgotten” –

Sat up talking to my uncle and aunt till 11 50/60. Spiriting up my uncle about the pride of the family about Shibden etc.  Having Pontey or Mickle improving the place which I always take every opportunity of urging and I think I shall succeed at last –

After coming upstairs began thinking of a contested election and a plan for bringing two blue members. Thought of writing anonymous from Bradford (but to be dire[c]ted to me here) to ask the chancellor of the exchequer whom we should choose if Wortley is made a peer. Began building castles about the result of my success, the notoriety it would gain me, an introduction at court perhaps, a barony etc. etc.

A glass of hot red wine neguss taken with Mr W[aterhouse] (I never take any) heated me. I thought of myself how slight the partition between sanity and not. The blood seemed in my head. I was not likely to sleep. I tried to compose myself by thinking [of] that almighty being who had created me. I had already said my prayers fervently and on getting into bed began repeating the lord’s prayer aloud again and again for ten minutes till the tears trickled down my face and at a little after it struck one fell asleep –

No rain today except a slight shower about 2 o’clock which could not do much harm to the hay – Yet a dull day – No sun – No drought – Yet got in nine loads – Very soft, and damp, too much so I fear –

[laurelkrugerr]

Google’s search terms move will make millions in ad spend invisible to advertisers

This morning, I negated a word that cost a campaign more than $3 for the one click it received in a brand campaign last week. I didn’t add the whole query, just one irrelevant word that triggered a brand keyword. Going forward, I might not ever see that type word or know if it showed up across multiple low-volume queries.

As we reported yesterday, Google has notified advertisers the search terms report will “only include terms that were searched by a significant number of users.” It has given no details about what “significant” means. The company told us the reason for the change is “to maintain our standards of privacy and strengthen our protections around user data.”

Unsurprisingly, the move has angered advertisers.

Is it too much to ask that they define “significant” and give some sort of acknowledgement to what this does to the people who work in the platform daily?

I may not make a huge impact, but I can direct spend off their platform.

— Amalia Fowler (@amaliaefowler) September 3, 2020

To be clear, maintaining and respecting user privacy should be a priority for tech companies like Google as well as for marketers. Google should keep personally identifiable information (PII) and otherwise sensitive queries that could be tied to someone out of search terms reports and it’s other platforms (the amount of PII that gets passed through to Analytics is a topic for another day). But, Google’s oblique communication about this change has left the door open for skepticism about its motives.

The “not provided” privacy issue is nearly a decade old

Next fall will be the 10th anniversary of “not provided.” Google started limiting visibility into the search terms that drive organic traffic to websites in 2011 for users logged into Google, again citing privacy. The so-called “not provided” issue (how that traffic appears in Analytics reports) has frustrated site owners ever since. For whatever reason — Google’s never been clear about it — the company has continued to surface that data to advertisers in the search terms report.

Is it hypocritical and self-serving to give this data to advertisers and not to others if privacy is behind the decision? It’s hard to deny. Limiting search term data would have undoubtedly hurt Google’s ad business, though advertisers have had a pretty good argument that they’re paying for the clicks and should have access to be able to eliminate wasted ad spend and optimize their campaigns. When “not provided” happened, keyword buying was the only way to buy search ads, and the way keywords matched to search queries was relatively straightforward.

So why make this change to ad search terms now?

We don’t have clear answers on why now. Google’s not saying.

We can either take Google’s statement at face value:

That there was suddenly a privacy epiphany about this data, or that there were enough specific scenarios detected to raise attention, or that this is a reaction to the increase in data privacy regulation and anti-trust scrutiny. We don’t know if there was a specific trigger. GDPR went into effect in 2018. CCPA went into effect Jan. 1 of this year, enforcement started Jul. 1. We know Google had CCPA on its radar because it introduced its solution for advertisers last November (unlike Facebook which waited until July).

Or we can be more skeptical:

Google isn’t providing responses to follow up questions we’ve asked. Regardless of Google’s intentions, there are millions, if not billions, of dollars in ad spend reflected in this longtail data. It’s no wonder advertisers are looking for more answers and clearer communication.

Last quarter, Google’s Search business was hit hard by advertisers pulling back amid the pandemic. The company generated $21.3 billion from Search and other properties such as Maps, a 10% drop year-over-year. (Total revenues were off 8%, marking the company’s first year-over-year decline.) I’d like to think this isn’t a revenue-incentivized decision, and it is certainly reflective of the trend toward automation (more on that later), but it’s nearly impossible not to view this kind of decision, at least in part, though this lens.

Does this longtail search query data really matter? What’s the big deal if a keyword only ever gets one click?

All that data adds up to big money and important insights for advertisers. Based on what some are seeing, advertisers could lose visibility into the search terms that account for a quarter or more of their ad spend.

There’s this:

I’m going to flip what @sengineland‘s @GinnyMarvin suggested in the email this morning. Don’t look at search terms with CLICKS <5. Look at IMPRESSIONS <5. I filtered impressions <2 for the past 14 days; 35.44% of my spend came from those terms. #ppcchat

— Eric Heiken (@EricHeiken) September 3, 2020

And this:

It is entirely possible that we’re losing data for at least 51% of ad spend. At a minimum it’s going to be at least 30% of ad spend.

Google taking this data away from us will have an absolutely staggering impact on accounts big and small.

This is an absolutely outrageous.

— Collin Slattery (@CJSlattery) September 2, 2020

Digital agency Seer looked at the initial impact of this change and calculated that Google Ads now “hides search terms for ~28% of paid search budgets and removes search term visibility of 20.4% of PPC clicks.” Meaning:

For every $100K you spend on Google search, you get search term data for $71,000 of it.

For every 100K clicks you get, you see search term data for 77,900 of those clicks.

Source: Seer

The irrelevant word that showed up in that $3 search term I negated this morning could be sprinkled across many other low-volume (again, we don’t know what the threshold is) search terms and make a substantial dent in that company’s marketing agency budget. And, nobody would be the wiser.

The implications for small businesses, in particular, are huge.

Moving away from keywords — All aboard the ML train

Search advertising was built on keyword targeting. Then came Facebook and it’s audience targeting power with pinpoint “people-based marketing agency” capabilities.

And at the same time there have been massive advancements in machine learning and AI.

Google has subsequently marched toward audience targeting and away from keyword targeting, diluting match types and introducing campaign types that don’t use keywords at all. As I wrote last year, when Google extended same-meaning close variants to phrase and broad match modified keywords:

The days of zero-keyword search campaigns have long been predicted as machine learning has taken over and audiences have come into play. In fact, those days are already here with automated campaign types such as Local campaigns, Smart campaigns and App campaigns.

https://searchengineland.com/is-Google-prepping-to-phase-out-etas-339964A more recent example of this shift to machine-learning powered audiences: In July, Google introduced audiences based on new predicted purchase and churn metrics in Google Analytics. (On the ads front, Google is making its automated responsive search ad format the default in a current test.)

This requires more trust than Google has earned

I’m no Luddite when it comes to automation, machine learning and AI. If it means better results and less work, bring it on. But, we aren’t at a point where marketers can take our hands entirely off the steering wheel.

Let’s say we put aside the argument that advertisers should have access to (non-PII) search query data because they are paying Google for those clicks. For advertisers to be remotely comfortable with this change, they need to trust that the algorithms that match query intent to keywords are as good as Google would like us to believe they are.

No doubt, the algorithms are getting better. But, the proof that they are far from perfect is in … those search terms reports.

Google hasn’t said this, but I can imagine the response now: “Our data show that .000001% of advertisers actually act on that data and add negative keywords.”

Whatever the number, it doesn’t matter.

What’s next?

“We’re continuing to invest in new and efficient ways to share insights that enable advertisers to make critical business decisions,” Google said in its statement to us. We’ll have to wait to see what this means.

In the meantime, advertisers will continue to feel like they’re yelling into the void. This move also potentially squanders the goodwill the company garnered by issuing ads credits to businesses hurt by the pandemic. As we head into the critical fourth quarter, more critical than ever given the pandemic, advertisers will be forced to navigate without visibility into a sizeable share of their ad spend — or look elsewhere.

About The Author

Ginny Marvin is Third Door Media’s Editor-in-Chief, running the day to day editorial operations across all publications and overseeing paid media coverage. Ginny Marvin writes about paid digital advertising and analytics news and trends for Search Engine Land, marketing agency Land and MarTech Today. With more than 15 years of marketing agency experience, Ginny has held both in-house and agency management positions. She can be found on Twitter as @ginnymarvin.

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source http://www.scpie.org/googles-search-terms-move-will-make-millions-in-ad-spend-invisible-to-advertisers/ source https://scpie1.blogspot.com/2020/09/googles-search-terms-move-will-make.html