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fallinfl0wers · 3 years

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love stories with some genshin boys i thought of while listening to my playlists

includes: aether (210 words), xiao (261 words), scaramouche (277 words) and albedo (307)

warnings (?): spoilers of ‘we will be reunited’, english is not my native language and uhh idk what else, idk really know what these are, headcanons ?? snippets ?? also not beta read and not edited.

it’s long so uhhh i’ll add a cut somewhere

anyway enjoy!! ...whatever this is i guess

Aether

Falling in love with Aether is like a fun adventure. He, being always the center of attention and the protagonist no matter where he goes, is a free spirited, kind and hardworking man.

Throughout your time travelling and being in a relationship together, you’ll find that your relationship with the Honorary Knight is one of sweet kisses under the sunlight; innocent handholding while thinking up of what to make for dinner tonight; of easily talked out arguments and finding ways to compromise; of softly pushing each other to become a better version of themselves and, most of all, of supporting and having each other’s backs no matter what.

And when Aether confronts the Abyss Princess face to face for the first time and his world comes crashing down on him, this trait of your relationship shines like no other, as you hold him in your arms after everything was over during the night, Paimon sleeping soundly next to the both of you inside your improvised campsite.

“Even though I’m not sure what -or who- I should believe anymore, I... I know I want to see this journey to the end, and I want you to be there with me for it. Let’s be together until the last moment and beyond.”

Songs:

Snow Fairy - Funkist

Snowing, be honest with yourself and smile When two people are getting closer, time overlaps Fairy, where are you going I will gather all the light and shine it on your tomorrow

Still Lonely - SEVENTEEN

This cursed popularity. Why won’t it leave me? But why am I getting lonelier The early morning chill makes me feel Even lonelier today I feel completely empty, as if I’m empty

Kanpeki Gu~ no ne - Watarirouka Hashiritai

I'm at a loss for words, with this and that, I'm totally in love with you Someday, I want do the same to you: Watch you flounder, At a loss for words right back to me!

Side by Side - The8 from SEVENTEEN

I want to hold hands with you but I don't know what to do what to do oh baby I want to give all my heart to you but You still don't know what's in my heart

Hope - Namie Amuro

At the end of this blue, wide world there's a place I want to aim at with you We chose this long ago for eternity

Xiao

Falling in love with Xiao is like living a bittersweet dream. The Vigilant Yaksha is far from human, or so he says, and thus is out of touch with the way we mortals experience feelings, both the negative and positive ones.

Your relationship with him is one of compassion, mutual understanding, appreciation and patience. So, so much patience. Of intertwined pinkies and soft stolen glances, of shy smiles and comfortable silence sometimes filled with your voice chatting time away and his short responses to your talks.

I mentioned patience. He knows you’re making an enormous effort to try and understand him and be patient with him and his slow learning process of how relationships work, so it’s only fair that he makes a true effort to understand you and your feelings.

Xiao is well aware that he could hurt you without wanting to, be it with his blunt phrasing of his thoughts or his Karmic Debt, as much as he is aware that you will eventually pass away and leave him behind to go somewhere he can’t follow, and that undeniable truth haunts him every second of every day he gets to spend with you. And still, he wishes and wants and does cherish each and every warm, kind feeling he gets every single second you’re together nonetheless.

“I might not know what to make of these new feelings you gave me. But I’ll learn. I promise I’ll learn, so please... don’t go, not yet. Let me treasure you and carve you into my memory for as long as I can.”

Songs:

Euphoria - BTS

I don't know what this emotion is Perhaps this is also the inside of a dream A dream is the blue mirage of the desert Deep inside of me, a priori I become happy to the point of being unable to breathe The surroundings, bit by bit, become clearer

Fallin’ Flower - SEVENTEEN

While flower blooms and falls, scars cure and buds shoot We are living our first and last moment So I won’t take you for granted Because you loved me as I am

Fear - SEVENTEEN

Get out my mind I can't handle it, I'm afraid of myself The truth has me tied up My heart is tainted I'm afraid it'll eventually change you too

The Truth Untold - BTS, Steve Aoki

It’s my fate Don’t smile to me Light on me Because I can’t get closer to you There’s no name you can call me

You know that I can’t Show you me Give you me I can’t show you a ruined part of myself Once again I put a mask on and go to see you But I still want you

Tiny Light - Akari Kitō

Because you colored my unchanging monochromatic days Even the blurred darkness gained meaning

Still, hidden in this heart, these feelings of preciousness so strong that they hurt I just want to convey these feelings to only you before they disappear someday

Scaramouche

Falling in love with Scaramouche is like constantly playing a game. He’s strict, demanding, disagreeable, and widely disliked by enemies and allies alike. Still, he has a heart too; and he holds desires and hopes deep inside of it, although most of them are fueled by the unchanging curiosity he has towards the world around him, curiosity to know what he can get out of whatever the world wants to throw at him.

You were no exception to that rule, at first.

When he met you he wanted to get something from you. And you knew it from the start, just as he knew that you knew. And that didn’t change anything, at first.

Your relationship with him is one of dangerously playful, yet still light-hearted games of seduction, teasing and deceit; of secret kisses exchanged in expensive private rooms in restaurants or the cozy warmth of your home, of an unspoken shared respect and, most of all, complete, mutual devotion.

You know Scaramouche is not a good man. He has done many, many unspeakable things in his life as one of the Eleven, and he knows he’s far from being the perfect charming prince you could aim for, but he will never let you go. Because behind those hardened walls of egocentrism and pride, you saw what no one else bothered to see. You saw him, not the role he was playing, you saw him and fell in love with him.

“To be honest, I don’t think I could find anyone else who understands me as much as you do. And no, I’m not saying this because I want something, give me some more credit, geez...”

Songs:

soldier game - µ’s

You'll come with me, yes? You've grown curious about my touch, yes? Then it's already love Since you're someone I must meet in battle someday, That might just be your reason It's soldier game Though we've met again, I'm soldier heart

Kowareyasuki - Guilty Kiss

Just stop it already and show your heart only to me I love your eyes that are about to cry And your defenseless, clumsy way of living too (...) The hesitation you convey makes my chest hurt Some people just don't know what such kindness is But then I discover the truth When we got together, you don't have to endure anymore Right now, show your grief only to me I like that you think too much The complete opposite of me

Shhh - SEVENTEEN

Don't think of all these as your mere illusion They're not lies that follow the moment No one can underestimate it, my feelings are an ignition 'Cause I'm always the same Me and you, we got hurt by the lies that we won't ever work But it's fate

(...)

So I can cover you from danger A consented dedication

(...)

It's as natural as breathing An everlasting dedication

Good to me - SEVENTEEN

Yeah, when you were making that sign in my heart It was a long time since my firewall broke down Pass with the password What in the world do you know about me? Are my deep feelings seen by you?

Hiraishin - Keyakizaka46

(To trust is to be betrayed, to open one’s heart is to get hurt So to avoid being struck by lightning-like sorrow…)

Which side am I picking? Ah, these values are hard to handle That’s why I won’t stop watching over you Positive positive positive You should just be yourself… I can forgive whatever absurdities you pull off I’ll support you without being noticed Even when you get nitpicked I’ll be your companion Let us now promise to live an unremarkable life hereafter What we have here is the lightning rod of love

Albedo

Falling in love with Albedo is a fairy tale-like experience for both of you. His attention had always been focused on his research, everything else fading into the background save for a few exceptions, until you came around. You, who stole all his attention by just existing.

As an alchemist, he’s naturally the curious type. He wanted to know what about it had caught his attention, what was so special about you that had him clinging to your every word and movement every time you interacted with him. Still, human relationships are hard for him, and he figured you might go away the second he started to feel burnt out from your interactions. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed. You stayed and took interest on what he did, asked questions, gave your insight, and dragged him to sleep when he needed a break. In exchange, he did the same for you.

Your relationship with Albedo is like one of those awkwardly sweet first time crushes. Of carefully calculated movements, dates and compliments, of soft kisses on lips, hands and cheeks, of mutual support, understanding and mature compromising and commitment.

The Kreideprinz, like everyone else, has his own fears and insecurities, especially regarding his... nature, but he does his best not to let them affect the relationship he has with you. Each moment spent by your side, even when he’s not actively doing any research, is considered perfectly spent, meaningful time.

“A long time ago, I was tasked with finding out the meaning of this world. Though I have directed my efforts and resources to looking for the answer through alchemy, ever since we met I... think, I’ve found an unexpected conclusion to said issue. While it’s likely that this is not the answer expected from me, I’m positive that, at least personally, I finally have the answer.”

Songs:

Futari Saison - Keyakizaka46

In the wind blowing through the city’s streets, even though I caught whiff of something’s scent, I had no interest in looking back

In a 1m radius around me, I formed an invisible barrier to another world And yet, you took someone like me out of it

What made you do that?

Home - SEVENTEEN

What can I do? Without you I’m just an old robot, my heart stops and it’s always cold What can we do? Without me You’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?

Baby, I want to cherish our warmth So no one can come between us

Flower - SEVENTEEN

You taught me, you showed me You’re my only reason If you can forever remember me I can get hurt, I can get hurt

My heart that’s engraved with your light Makes me stronger Give me your sharp thorns Cause you’re my flower

Oh my! - SEVENTEEN

Sorry for repeating the same thing But this is all I can try using hard words But my true feeling is this, every everything

(...)

How about you? Is it hard for you to sleep because of me too? If you keep making my heart flutter What do I do?

Naze koi wo shite konakattan darou? - Sakurazaka46

Why hadn't I fallen in love? I've been making fun of it all this time I mean everyone keeps saying 'I love you' just like cats in heat But after falling in love I realized what people live for To meet, to love, to the point of nothing but... I'm not myself, I want to find my true self.

#xiao x reader #aether x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact headcanon #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #first post yay #why is albedo's so long tho he's not even my favorite out of them lol #melodywritings #fluff #genshin impact x reader #melwritesgenshin

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seiin-translations · 2 years

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2.43 S2 Chapter 1.6 - The Laughing King and Crybaby Jack (Part 6)

6. CHARGE THE ENERGY

Previous || Index || Next

On the afternoon of Saturday, September 20, one week before the Spring High qualifiers, a practice game was arranged with Seiin invited to Fukuho. Seiin had almost no chance of making it to the representative selection round based on their record. It could be said that Fukuho was being “immature” for worrying about such a team.

On the day of the game, however, the Fukuho volleyball team unabashedly demonstrated their immaturity and greeted the weak team of only eight members from the very beginning with the desire to intimidate them with everything they had.

“Looking forward to working with you guys!”

As soon as Seiin appeared at the entrance of the gym, the three times as many tall members of the team, dressed in red jerseys, lined up in a row and raised their voices in unison. They somewhat startled Seiin, who were unevenly bobbing their heads into the gym.

The lingering heat of the day was still intense. Oda, the captain of the team, had his team members, who were sweating from the heavy bags they were carrying from Nanafu City, line up.

“Thank you for this opportunity today. We look forward to working with you.”

“Thank you!”

Oda’s order was followed by their voices. It was short and crisp.

Hata ran up to the old man who suddenly showed up at the very end and said, “Thank you very much for coming all the way here, Sensei.”

“Ah, thank you. You all indeed seem strong. Train them hard today.”

“We are the ones who are fortunate to have your guidance today. Oi, get a chair!”

“Ah, yes!”

Ochi ran over with a folding chair and set it up under the basketball hoop.

Seiin’s advisor was a skinny old man who looked as if he might snap in half. The reason Hata paid so much respect to him was because, as Ochi had just heard, he was once considered a great leader in the student volleyball world.

“Heave-ho. Ah, outings are tough when you’re at my age. Oda, I’ll leave the rest to you.”

As soon as he sat down in the chair, the old man gave Oda a little hand gesture and began to drift off with half-open eyes. …It must be remembered that he was “once” considered a great leader.

In this case, it would have made sense for Fukuho, who had requested the practice match, to go to Seiin, but Seiin had apparently never invited another school to a practice match since Oda took over. However, it was decided that it would be quicker to have a practice match at Fukuho, where the court, know-how, and manpower were available.

“Go outside and the changing room is across the hallway. You can put your bags there. Whenever you’re ready, you can start warming up. We’re already done.”

Ochi explained everything to Aoki, the vice-captain, since there seemed to be no manager. He thought he treated him with the same attitude he would have greeted any other school, but,

“Hello. You sure aren’t hiding your hostility.”

Aoki said in a teasing tone.

Ochi glared up at Aoki’s face, which was about twenty-five centimeters above his own.

“Even if it was a joke, it’s natural to disdain it as someone who plays sports. Taking a video and threatening us…”

“You’re just gonna ignore that it was your second-year that laid a hand on him? A little injury is nothing to write home about for Okuma, but if he had injured the spindly first-year, we wouldn’t have backed down without a fight.”

Receiving a retort that contained a hint of a threat, Ochi swallowed his voice and gritted his teeth. The indignation from Tuesday rekindled in his chest, but Aoki was the one who avoided a glaring contest by looking away like he was playing the fool.

“As for me, I didn’t mean it as a joke. We’re really trying to go to Spring High this year, and we would be lucky if we could eliminate the biggest obstacle…Mimura’s a smart guy. I guess the prefecture’s MVP would be more than just charismatic. Well, I’m not going to try anything, I’ll just sit back and watch how our freshman setter is going to make you guys surrender fair and square. Sorry about Tuesday.”

If he apologized, there would be no reason to flare up at him. Ochi had never been good at wars of words. Wait, he said he didn’t mean it as a joke…I think he just straight up said he wasn’t joking.

“You can use the changing room, and we’ll start warming up as soon as you put your bags away.”

Aoki shouted over Ochi’s head. Ochi reflexively braced himself as Haijima, the bespectacled freshman setter, was the first to come running forward, the enamel bag and ball case rattling on his shoulders.

“Is there a tap around here? I didn’t change my contacts.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, use the one in front of the changing room.”

“Thanks.”

After straightforwardly bowing his head, Haijima ran past Ochi, who was let down by this anticlimax. “Haijima! Don’t run ahead on your own, wait for the others to come! You won’t miss the game even if you don’t rush!” The other first year, Kuroba, ran after him. “Don’t be so noisy in another school,” Aoki called out a warning to the back of their heads.

Their noisy and restless appearance was somehow no different from the juniors on his own team. As he was watching them go with a wry smile on his face, he overheard Mimura and Oda talking.

Both captains were in front of the net.

“We have it up at forty-three, but should we bring it down to forty?”

“No, we don’t mind. We always have it at forty-three too.”

Oda responded, as though competing with Mimura. “Oh?” Mimura grinned. Oda looked a bit embarrassed.

“Well, we’ve never been in an official game with the net at forty-three. You guys must have plenty of experience…”

In Fukui Prefecture, the net height for high school boys was set at two meters and forty-three centimeters. The same rule applied to the prefectural qualifying rounds and the representative qualifiers for Spring High. The height of the net was the same as the height for the general men’s net—the height used in the V-League and international tournaments, as well as national high school tournaments, including Spring High.

Only three centimeters. But it was three centimeters that clearly divided the inside of the prefecture and outside.

The fact that a team that had never competed in a forty-three tournament was practicing at the level of a forty-three could be called overly optimistic—but it meant that the team was serious about going to Nationals.

At Oda’s height, he couldn’t even reach the top of the 2.43 meter tall net just by standing on tiptoe. A person of ordinary athletic ability would probably be able to reach it by jumping. It was about the same height as the ceiling of a slightly tall house.

The boys’ volleyball team hit the ball towards each other without regard to the height of the net. At the top level, spikes exceeded 350 meters. The intensity of this game gave you goosebumps when you see it up close.

Oda’s face lit up and he murmured, “Thank you...” as he lifted his chin and looked up at the white band on the net indicating 2.43.

---

Although the practice games held at the home gym added a mountain of work for him as a manager, Ochi quite liked them.

The base of Fukuho’s uniforms were a deep red. The black collar and black side lines running from the sides to the shorts tightened the red. The practice scene looked disjointed because everyone usually wore their own practice clothes, but when they were all in their uniforms like this, their movements looked coordinated and made a fine show. The usual gym became like a venue for a championship match.

The shouts were more energetic and louder than usual. It was also fun to hear the other team’s voices get so loud that they sound a little ridiculous.

The sound of the ball bouncing here and there overlapped with the shouts from the two teams, multiplying the energy and increasing the excitement in the venue.

A loud smack sound burst out from the court where Seiin was practicing. A second thud sound reverberated as the ball pierced into the front zone, and the ball bounced up almost vertically.

“Yeah, I’m on a roll!”

The player who spiked, Number 7 Kuroba, landed with his knees bent and pumped his fist in the air. He ran under the net, pitching forward as though the momentum was crushing him, and then, spinning one of his arms in a circle, ran around the outside of the pole to the end of the line again.

Why is that first-year using unnecessary energy before the game…As Ochi watched Seiin’s practice with a mixture of amusement and amazement, he heard a voice from directly above him.

“Looking from here, Number 7 is pretty eye-catching.”

Mimura, who had been there since who-knows-when, was also watching the court over Ochi’s head.

Fukuho was off the court practicing their receives in a line, but the two third-year middle blockers, Takasugi and Asamatsu, also stopped in turn when they jogged past behind them. Don’t surround me with only guys who are around 190. The other members of the team, while paying attention to them, were seriously going to the back of the line.

“It’s like watching me from two years ago.”

He was basically calling himself “eye-catching,” but no one quipped about it because it was the truth.

“I feel like he’s more like you when you’re in bad form and being sloppy. He’s just being maneuvered by Number 8, isn’t he?”

Ochi commented, indicating the Number 8 Haijima, who had his back turned to them, with his eyes. Seiin’s uniform, was shirt to shorts, was all black with blue lines. The number “8,” printed in white on his black back, stood out clearly.

Standing alone by the net, Number 8 Haijima was signaling each of the spikers to hit the ball. Kuroba jumped to the exact spot Haijima told him to jump and shot down the ball that was set there. In high school, there were many teams that had one strong ace and are centered around the ace, but he had never seen a team in which the setter was so in control.

He began to understand somewhat what Hata meant when he said that he wouldn’t know how to fit this player into the team when Mimura became a third-year.

“The moment Number 8 breaks down, there’s a possibility that the team wouldn’t be able to compete at all. How can you leave so much to a first-year? It’s a weakness of the team that they finally have a full lineup with the addition of the first-year players. Their team has no depth.”

“Our manager’s pretty harsh,” Takasugi teased. Asamatsu asked Mimura, “What do you think, Subaru?”

Ochi glanced up at Mimura. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, wearing a red-and-black jersey over his uniform that was of the same color. Mimura was always like this before a match, walking around the court in a relaxed and nonchalant manner, taking in the opposing team and the entire venue, including the stands.

“Well, I agree with what Ochi said. But when a group of guys with strong quirks like that are united in an unexplainable way around a first-year setter and aiming to overtake an invulnerable school with a winning record, it seems like Seiin is much more dramatic than us.”

“Are we that invulnerable school with a winning record?”

“It’s true that the protagonists in sports stories are usually the weak team, isn’t it? I guess that makes us the bad guys.”

Takasugi and Asamatsu laughed, but Ochi didn’t have the will to laugh with them.

…The hero and protagonist should be Mimura. I don’t want him to be satisfied with the lame role of the boss of the villain team that bows their head to the protagonist team.

“Subaru…you’re not seriously saying that nonsense, are you?”

It wasn’t just a matter of not putting in extra effort. His way of talking, as if he had even lost the bare minimum of energy he required, told them that his biorhythm hadn’t improved at all yet. He thought that he might have been motivated by their visit to Seiin, since he was the one who asked for a practice match, but there was no change at all.

“I am serious. If Seiin goes to Nationals, local TV will happily make documentaries about them, national media will be all over them, and Fukui will become famous. People will finally stop asking, ‘Where’s Fukui?’”

“You’re really holding a grudge about that.”

“Trying being asked that at Nationals every year. You’ll hold a grudge too.”

“Talk to people from other prefectures. You should stop being a people pleaser.”

“I’m not a people pleaser. I’m networking because I have to. If you get friendly with them, they’ll bring local snacks when you meet them at the next tournament.”

“Use that network for something more effective…”

The trio of around 190cm exchanged light banter over Ochi’s head. Ochi, who was silent with a heavy heart, looked over at Mimura, who sighed like he was fed up.

“Do you want to go to Spring High’s center court, Ochi?”

A sudden question.

“Why are you talking about that now…”

“Say it. Say you want me to make you the manager at Spring High’s center court.”

He always said the same argument. The first time he was told this two years ago, he was so enthralled by those words that he nodded with tears in his eyes. However, after being told the same thing dozens or hundreds of times since then, it had become more and more difficult for him to nod. He couldn’t understand why Mimura kept making him answer over and over again.

“…I can’t say it.”

He shook his head.

Mimura’s eyes widened in astonishment. And then they sharpened.

“Say it.”

He repeated, coercing him.

“I said no. I won’t say it again. I don’t really want to go to center court that badly. I stopped caring about that a long time ago. I wanted to go with everyone, but…but we don’t have to go there anymore.”

“Is that…how you really feel?”

The red uniform standing in front of him was surrounded by an anger that seemed to burn the atmosphere. Even Seiin could feel that they were arguing over something, and they stopped moving around as though they were wondering what was going on.

“Third years! Assemble!”

Hata’s angry voice came flying out. The four third-year core members chatting idly would be setting a bad example for the others. “Sorry!” Takasugi and Asamatsu immediately ran over. They looked back and urged them with his eyes, so Ochi ran after them, as if to get away from Mimura.

He looked back over his shoulder at Mimura and saw him walking towards him with his hands in his pockets, looking displeased at their interrupted talk. He turned forward and joined the team circle around Hata.

“We’ll start with the starting lineup for now, but since this is a practice match, I’ll make some substitutions…”

“Sensei, how about we take Subaru out for today?”

He interrupted Hata and boldly put forth his opinion.

Everyone, not just Hata, was shocked. That included Mimura, who was the last to join them.

“If we’re going to lose in a practice match without Subaru, then maybe it would be better for Seiin to go to Spring High.”

The air was filled with waves of disquiet. “O-Oi, Ochi,” Takasugi called out in a chiding tone. He could see Tokura’s face twisting as though he was particularly hurt. However, he had no intention of retracting his words. The words spilled out of him like a dam had broken.

“It’ll mean that the team isn’t worth letting Subaru put his body on the line to take us to center court. If it’s just a burden for Subaru to lead the current Fukuho, then I want him to retire and enjoy his time at uni—”

He was slapped on the back of his head and couldn’t finish his sentence. It was a slap from the strongest spiker in the prefecture, who slammed in spikes at top speeds of over a hundred kilometers per hour. He thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of his skull. “…Aah…” Holding his head, he couldn’t even breathe for a while.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, idiot. This isn’t in a manager’s job description.”

Mimura’s voice, tinged with real anger, was hurled at Ochi’s tingling brain. With tears in his eyes, Ochi looked up over his head in protest.

“Coach, I’ll be in the match. How can I not be in the game that I arranged?”

“Subaru!”

“Please give me three minutes. We’ll start after that. I’m going to have a talk with this idiot. Come here, Mitsuomi.”

Mimura grabbed Ochi by the back of his collar and left the circle. He was forced to stand on his toes and crab walk, and tried to shake him off while shouting, “Let go, Subaru!” But since even Seiin was watching them, he had no choice but to keep up appearances. He was dragged away, plodding along and his head hanging down.

When Ochi became obedient, Mimura no longer treated him so roughly either. He opened the sliding metal door and pushed Ochi outside.

He stumbled forward a few steps and knelt down on the floorboards of the hallway. Mimura closed the metal door, blocked it with his back, and sat down on the step in front of the doorway. The scene composition was that of a criminal kneeling on the ground and a town magistrate who stepped out to the porch and was intimidating him.

“Good grief…I know I said I didn’t want high-pitched cheers from you, but what’s with a manager who lowers the morale of his players instead of cheering them on?”

He let out a fed-up sigh. Ochi kept silent and sat cross-legged on the floor again, facing Mimura. The magistrate was sitting higher than Ochi, so his eyes were just at Mimura’s knee level. Mimura lightly interlaced his fingers between his knees, which were wrapped in black supporters.

“It’s not like I’m saying you’re an outsider. Don’t misunderstand that. Sorry for hitting you.”

“…You don’t have to apologize.” He muttered, but his head was still throbbing and he felt resentful. “I know you had to do that.”

If Mimura hadn’t gotten angry at that point, the command of the team would have become muddled. As Mimura said, it wasn’t the manager’s job to give his opinion on the coach’s selection of team members. Even if he was given a position on the team under Mimura’s patronage, he wasn’t one of those who stood on the court. How could he say that their team wasn’t worthy of going to Spring High towards the players who were running around on the court trying to snatch victory? …He understood. He understood, but…

“I’m not happy about it. Why should you be put in the same ring as those happy-go-lucky Seiin guys? People are fascinated with Seiin, saying that a team that’s threatening our dominance has appeared. If they win, they’ll be praised all over the place, and if they lose, people will just say it’s a fair result and that would be the end of it. They have nothing to lose. The weight of what you have to protect is completely different… It’s not fair. I’ve been thinking for a long time now…if all it does it make you feel that way, then it doesn’t matter anymore …you should just throw it away…”

“I can’t.”

He was interrupted.

“I can’t do that. Don’t ever say it doesn’t matter again. Keep telling me to make you the center court manager at Spring High.”

“Why are you…so obsessed with that…” The tears of pain that welled up in his eyes receded briefly, but then the back of his eyes burned again, and he sniffled a little. “I don’t know what you’re playing volleyball for…it seems to me like you’re only playing it to make other people’s dreams come true…”

“You’ll never get over being a crybaby.”

Mimura was fed up. “I-I’m not,” he said back, since it wasn’t like he planned on showing his tears so many times as to be called a crybaby, but once his tear glands let loose, they would not easily close back up.

“Mitsuomi. Listen up, keep saying it. Until I really make you the manager at Spring High’s center court.”

“I’m already…”

“It’s been three minutes. You know, this isn’t really the time for lecturing you, but for me to recharge my energy. Don’t think about it…think of it as my lucky charm and say it. Now. I don’t care if it’s a lie.”

“Lucky charm…”

Ochi raised his tearful eyes. His nose and eyes were probably bright red, and his face was probably a mess, but Mimura wasn’t looking at his face anyways. He was hanging his head, pressing his forehead against his hands folded between his knees.

It wasn’t the sight of a town magistrate judging the guilty with a flurry of falling cherry blossoms on his shoulders. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t raise his head, and it was obvious at a glance that he was being crushed by the heavy load on his shoulders.

“Say it.”

He repeated, like he was supplicating him.

Even though it pained him, like he was pushing out a hard lump that wouldn’t go through his throat, why did he say it every time he was asked?

“…I’m not going to lie to you. Of course I want to go. You’ll definitely make me the manager at Spring High’s center court. It’s my dream to be on the center court bench and cheer you guys on.”

Mimura gave him more than what he wanted a long time ago. That was no lie either.

And yet—two summers ago, Ochi’s hero and king, who was clad in shining armor of light, flew down from the top of the stairs and held out a ticket for a special seat to watch Mimura Subaru in the spotlight on the court of glory, closest to the courtside. If I didn’t use that ticket and ripped it up, I would be an unforgivable fool.

Mimura’s hands were tightly clenched under his forehead.

“…Alright.”

He raised his head and smiled, his eyes narrowed and his face scrunched up.

His expression tightened, like he was pulling the laces of his shoes tight.

“Now then, I’m gonna go smash in the nail that sticks out.”

As he sat up, saying something fearless with a dangerous tone, the fighting spirit rose from his shoulders. Immediately, his shoulders, which still could be called dainty, became a size tougher, and the “Demon Bazooka” released his vicious presence.

Previous || Index || Next

#2.43 #2.43 seiin koukou danshi volley bu #2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43: Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club #2.43 translation #2.43 book 2 #fyeahsportsanime #sports anime

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randomidiocyncrazies · 4 years

Text

2.43 ep 10 thoughts

there are some damn good team dynamics on both sides this ep, hell yeah!

exhibit 1: Mimura and Ochi are married and co-parenting the Fukuhou team:

also... Fukuhou’s setter is hilarious???

Mimura: give me all the sets

Setter: sure thing boss! *passes to the 2nd year kid instead*

2nd year kid: *scores* let’s win this for Ochi!!

Setter: lol sorry boss, maybe next time

also hilarious: Aoki’s pouty unimpressed expression at the reminder of Oda being swapped out to reserves because of his height disadvantage. look, even Kanno’s laughing!

also, i say this p much every week, but BRO I LOVE ODA... he’s just really sweet and supportive with his teammates and does his best to soothe their anxiety! a good team captain, 100% dad friend

(”heart of the team” indeed!)

also really loved the resolution to Chika’s question about whether he’s in it for personal glory or the good of the team, and how his leadership style is contrasted with Mimura’s

just... the whole “Fukuhou is Mimura’s team, but Seiin doesn’t have to be my team... if what I have to do for the team lies elsewhere, I have no reason to be self-conscious and I don’t have any regrets” moment is SO GOOD!!! i’ve said before that Oda and Mimura’s leadership styles are wildly different, but both are admirable—since 2.43 emphasizes teamwork (”nobody can play by themselves, no matter how talented”), both captains’ leadership style are different expressions of the team cohesion: Seiin is a “underdog misfit” team, so Oda’s ability to rally the team’s spirits despite their weakness is important; Fukuhou is a strong team, and Mimura a “hero” of the court who brings out the confidence in his players because of how talented he is.

(i also loved the parallel between him and Chika—”I also used to play, totally focused on the court only, but I don’t envy you. There are things I can only do now because I’m carrying so much” is just. chef kiss. i love Chika and he is obviously talented, but his intensity means it’s hard for him to be buddy-buddy with his teammates)

i do appreciate the tension between Chika and the others, though i think the anime sort of flattened it a bit? reading the book i felt like both sides had a point, but imo Kanno was being quite harsh with the “You’ve been pushy, Haijima” line here... i guess it’s because there’s less focus on interior thoughts/emotions so it’s harder to see where they’re coming from...

also, this interaction caught my attention during the mini conflict (i’m a HUGE Odaoki stan)

Oda doesn’t actually say “thanks” here. he says “すまん、青木”, which is less of a thank you and more of an apology. i don’t really consider it a mistranslation because the english translation makes sense in context (he is thankful to Aoki for stepping in), but the apology aspect is really interesting to think about. why is he apologetic? my gut feeling is that Oda is aware that Aoki is ambivalent towards Chika and that Chika is, to some extent, Oda’s star player—he’s the one who insisted on Chika joining the team, so it’s possible that he saw Aoki stepping up for Chika as a favor to himself. on the other hand, Aoki is capable of putting personal feelings aside to do the thing that needs to be done, so i like to think he’d have defended Chika regardless

it’s also possible that Oda is frustrated with himself for, y’know, not being able to step in on account that he’s a reserve player—he may be the team captain but he’s not the floor captain of this game, and he could only offer encouragement on the sidelines because he hadn’t been playing with them. it feels disingenuous to chastise them when he hadn’t been playing alongside them and hadn’t experienced the hardships they’re facing on the court

speaking of Oda and Aoki, i also love this co-parenting moment between them (even though we learn that they lost the set in the end):

Aoki immediately jumping in to rally the team alongside Oda is just? really cute?? they have a good dynamic

other cute team moments from team Seiin

Chika is trying SO HARD!!! hang in there Chika

#2.43 #2.43 anime #2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club #2.43: seiin koukou danshi volley-bu

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samwrights · 4 years

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I’m sorry but ukai with a breeding kink😳yes PLEASE

I swear I saw another ask that asked for Ukai with an impreg kink

*ahem* anyways—WOW this one was a doozy but holy shit did I have fun writing it. 11k words you guys. 11. K. It is a lot so grab some cocoa or coffee and a blanket because this is a read. It even has to be split into two parts because I hit the fucking text limit, BUT this also means there is no actual smut in this portion. You can find that here.

If you guys need some ear candy, I recommend the following:

Day N Nite (Crooker’s Remix) by Kid Cudi

Pursuit of Happiness (Extended version with Steve Aoki) by Kid Cudi

Breaking Me by Topic

C’Mon by Ke$ha

Flannel by The Cardboard Swords (it has to be sad somewhere)

Magic in the Hamptons by Social House

Fun fact: Ke$ha was actually the primary inspiration for this fic and for DJ!Ukai. God bless her.

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

Without further ado, please enjoy the filthy depths of my brain followed by a relatively happy ending that I’ve titled, “Between the Lines’” :-)

“You’ve been more tired lately, and you’re showing up right when practice starts. Is everything okay?” Was the question that Takeda had asked Ukai Keishin that haunted him for years to come. Sure, he had wanted to gain more independence from his parents, wanted to start being more adult-like and take over the mortgage and the bills so his parents could finally rest. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With four years passing, however, Keishin was so damn tired, but it wasn’t like he could just stop working.

He was still tending to crops every morning, tending to the shop, coaching for Karasuno, but in the four years time, he had adopted one more job on the weekends—Ukai Keishin was a local nightclub DJ. He’d discovered the job opportunity one fateful night that he was out with his friends from the neighborhood association. To this day, he was still unsure of why he was approached with the job, especially considering he didn’t know the first thing about being a DJ, but the woman who had offered him the position had taught him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he had a natural affinity for the position, seeing as he was still at it years later under the alias Spira. Ukai kept telling himself that he would quit the gig eventually because there was no way he could continue working four jobs—it was inhuman and the money didn’t even really matter to him. Okay, that last one is a lie; his DJ gig has been a substantial contributor to his savings funds to the point where he was even able to afford a newer, larger, (and slightly) used SUV in full compared to his tiny, old yellow beater. Even his mortgage bills were starting to look less daunting with the current cash flow.

Who needs sleep anyway? Ukai survived and thrived off of nicotine and caffeine anyway. Besides, sleep was the last thing on his mind whenever he set foot into the club. It was impossible to think of anything other than the writhing bodies of sweaty, young adults that were already drunk or high or were practically fucking each other with their clothes on. Perhaps that was part of the reason Keishin felt the need to quit this job—he was envious. Envious of the fact that he never got to indulge in his youth like these kids did; he started working and helping his family out right away after college. Sure, he went out here and there, but these twenty-something-year-olds were living their best life, while he was thirty and catering to their whims.

To say he was a bit bitter would be an understatement.

Bitterness aside, however, it did him good to see the youth enjoying exactly that—their youth. They got to do as they pleased between exams and becoming functioning members of society and, while he was jealous, Ukai was proud to be able to contribute to their pleasure.

He’d arrived to the club early, as he often did, to try to grab a drink before he was due for stage time. Ukai was thankful the bartenders knew him enough that he didn’t have to verbally order considering the music was too loud to hear him in the first place. A rum and coke manifests itself in a small, plastic cup that the blonde raises in thanks before weaving and bobbing around the various partygoers. For the most part, he’s successful in dodging the flailing bodies as he mutely notes the very upbeat remix of some female pop artist playing.

But only remotely successful as Keishin attempts to salvage his drink from spilling as he raises it over his head as one of the partygoers is pushed into him. “Hey, careful!” He snaps toward the younger, [hair color]ed woman. She only looks half-offended by the scolding, but otherwise unperturbed. If anything, the dominating expression on her face was confusion.

“Coach Ukai?” He’s surprised to hear both his given name and his title, let alone coming from a club patron, as they all knew him as Spira. Recognition slips his mind entirely—he’s never met this girl in any way that he can remember. Certainly, he would never forget crossing paths with this beauty, even if she was dressed in a similarly juvenile fashion to the other ravers. Tight crop top tee cinched together by a knot at the midriff, with army green high-waisted shorts attempting to cover the bare skin, face painted with makeup, glitter, and sweat; even underneath the garb, she brought forth no recollection. “Uh, d-do you remember me?” It’s a challenge to hear over the music, but she presses forward close enough that her lips are right in Keishin’s ear.

“Can’t say that I do,” he yells right back into hers.

“Karasuno class of twenty-twelve, I was Sugawara’s girlfriend.” Oh.

Oh.

Now he remembered, vaguely, but he doesn’t ever remember her looking like this. The last four years had been incredibly kind to her, in more ways than one. Back in her Karasuno days, [name] had always looked pleasant, for lack of better term. But there was always a lifeless, matted, dull glaze to her eyes that screamed she was searching for something more. While it was still somewhat present, there was a substantial joyous air around her. It looked good on her. However, as much as Ukai wanted to stay and admire, he had to go get set up for the evening. Or rather, that was the excuse he used when he said he would catch her after the show. “[name], did you know who that was?” The woman in question gives a nod, confused at the sudden star struck gawks that her friends held.

“Uh, yeah? My ex-boyfriend’s volleyball coach?”

“No dude, that was the DJ, Spira.”

“What?”

Being the closing act meant a lot of different things to Ukai Keishin. On the negative spectrum, it meant he was going to have to tend to crops as soon as he finished cleaning up his set. That also meant he wasn’t going to get to go to bed until nearly eight in the morning after his shift at the farm. Yet, for him, the positives greatly outweighed the negatives. For Keishin, watching the audience lose themselves in euphoria, albeit probably a drug-induced one, just hit different for him. It was a sense of satisfaction that only came from a select few activities, with coaching volleyball being the other major contributor. There was just something about the way the crowd was overwhelmed and screaming the second underground remixes of old Kid Cudi tracks with his own twists overtook the speakers that granted Keishin a sense of enlightenment.

For him, being a DJ allowed an audience to flow and vibe with the journey of his life and all its constant up and down motions while under the guise of anonymity. As Spira, Ukai opened up the complexity and conflicting feelings of his inner mind and brought it to fruition through his mixes. He felt that in his soul, he’d done his art of storytelling justice. The audience felt it. Hell, his mom at home probably felt it. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons this dingy, hole-in-the-wall club kept asking him to come back every weekend.

His mind wanders further as he clutches an electronic cigarette in his hand, mixing beats on the turntable while taking hits of nicotine in between. He wonders if the girl he had ran into just a few minutes prior had been frequenting here as often as he had. Then, thinking back to what little information she supplied earlier, Ukai’s mind drifts off to the former third-year setter from when he first started coaching. Sugawara was a nice boy with a firm, almost parental, hand that walked dangerously along the lines of being a partner and being a control freak. When it came to his relationship, things had to go his way. And while his girlfriend that came to every tournament was much more outspoken yet easy going, she was opinionated and didn’t shy from confrontation.

Now that the coach had given it more thought, it was a wonder that one tolerated the other at any point in time. If anything, Ukai imagines the two of them would typically be at each other’s throats. From the few times he had interacted with her, she was always more free spirited and couldn’t be weighed down by any one else’s opinion, but seeing her now was different—she was in her element in the dingy, dark club with the glitter on her cheekbones refracting light off of her face. There was laughter and true, unabashed joy on her face. She had a light of her own—like she was ray of sunshine in the center of a storm.

Three hours past midnight when the club closed was always Keishin’s sign to leave, regardless of the countless attempts to attend the after party he’d been invited to. He had to go to work, after all. Sure, a part of him had always been a little green with envy at all the DJs that got to hook up with club patrons after, but after being at this gig for a few years, he figured that the right girl for him would eventually come to him if he continued working on himself. After all, he didn’t want to just have a string of one night stands with a bunch of fresh adults that could barely function after the small drop of Malibu rum—he was too old for that.

“Uh, coach?” [name] felt strange calling him that, but she didn’t feel familiar enough with him to address him otherwise. He was halfway in his car, the blonde ready to leave for the weekend to go back to his regular day-to-day work. “You coming to the after party?” [name] asks when Keishin only looks at her in question, cigarette hanging betwixt his dry lips.

“No, I actually have to go to work right now.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t mean to express her disappointment, but it slips anyway, “guess I’ll catch you later then?”

“Uh, yeah.” A tight lipped hybrid of a pained grin and grimace crosses her wet, gloss covered lips. Without another word, Ukai closes his car door, a little more brusquely than he intended to, before backing out and leaving the young woman to her own devices. His mind wanders once again with him humming absentmindedly to the soft acoustic punk playing over the car radio. His eyes are focused on the passing greenery, the cars that are weaving and bobbing off the freeway—hell he even noticed the way the tendrils of the sun are just barely starting to peak over the horizon because it reminded him of her. A thought he banishes immediately because he feels creepy for even thinking that.

Yet no matter how much scenery flitted through his honey eyes, his mind keeps traveling back to one thing, or rather one person, only.

Goddammit.

On Monday’s practice, Ukai Keishin’s mind is flooding and drowning in memories of his first year as the volleyball club’s coach. It was as if his mind was coercing him to attempt to reach out to the girl that plagued his mind for the last forty-eight hours or so. Though, he had no way of contacting her. Instead, with every step along the wooden floors, he can remember the way she would walk Suga to practice, almost physically seeing her standing in the doorway to kiss the third-year setter goodbye. As if he could see her sitting underneath the third window from the left, quietly doing homework and exchanging small talk and airy laughter with Kiyoko and Daichi. As if he could see the same sunny smile she gave in the audience from Saturday night at the club between the lines of the woodwork in the floorboards.

It was a repeating pattern day in and day out that was beginning to make Ukai question his sanity.

“Hey, man,” his assistant coach and fellow Karasuno alumni, Tsukishima Akiteru, places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all week.” In what world did a week translate into three days, the older blonde coach didn’t know.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keishin all but bites back. He didn’t want to admit his conscious had been running rampant with thoughts of a girl he’d briefly met at a club. It felt almost as disturbing and perverted as it sounded in his mind.

“The team’s worried about you. Why don’t you take an early weekend and get some rest? We’ll see you back on Monday, yeah?” Normally, Ukai would have vehemently refused. However, his circumstances were far from normal and he was gracious for an assistant coach he trusted wholeheartedly to do the work that needed to be done. And so, Ukai heeded Akiteru’s advice and went home before practice even began on Thursday afternoon.

It was slightly disorienting for him to go home and nap, but he was incredibly thankful for the gift. Waking up just before he was technically supposed to start his shift at the shop, Keishin jumps into a cold shower to bring him to life before heading downstairs. A bellowing yawn passes his lips through his teeth as he starts his evening. Maybe his team was right—he really did need a break. Thankfully, he knew that the second the doors to the Sakanoshita were locked, he was done for the evening and wouldn’t need to reawaken until three the following morning. Just a few more hours until then, he thought.

With it being a slower evening as well, Ukai was able to kick his feet up on the counter as he always did, pull open the newspaper from earlier in the morning and casually flip through. Briefly, he considers giving up one of his four jobs because this was something he missed doing. But consideration aside, he was far too in love with the cash flow and the thought of paying off his mortgage to entertain the thought for long. Maybe one day, he would finally sell the Sakanoshita store or quit helping on the farm—

“You still work here?” Huh. Her voice sounds different when it isn’t drowning under the speakers of a nightclub.

“I do own this place, you know.” Ukai snarks at the woman who’d been consuming his brain for the last week. She looks different without glitter reflecting off of her unreal cheekbones or the heavy layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Even more than before, Keishin definitely recognized [name] now. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Shopping,” she snorts as if it were the most obvious thing, “why else would I be at a store?”

“Dunno, maybe you’re just here to see me.” Ukai responds without skipping a beat, turning the page of the paper to play into his guise that he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at [name]’s presence.

“Uh...actually...” her voice is quiet, prompting the coach to quirk a brow and fold up the paper he was now pretending to read. It wasn’t like he could focus on anything right now outside of the woman standing before him, spearated only by a thin counter. Without talking again, his brown eyes lock with hers, silently goading for her to continue speaking. “I-I just...I don’t know. It was just really weird to see you at the club and then to find out that you’re Spira on top of that. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since I graduated and—“

“Woah, kid, breathe.” Ukai interrupts her before she can continue spewing word vomit at a hundred miles an hour. “So what if I’m Spira? Though, you better not tell anyone that. My stage name is a secret between us, alright?” For a moment she’s quiet, gears turning in her head. The secrecy didn’t make sense to her because, if anything, he should be proud of the fact that he’s rather well known in the underground electronica scene. Or at least, she was in his stead, because [name] would have been proud of Ukai regardless of whatever occupation he held.

She supposed it came with the territory of having an unrequited crush on the coach years ago, that continued well beyond high school and even university, back when she was still dating Sugawara Koushi. It was the reason she had even bothered to come sit in on his practices and partially the reason she would come to his tournaments and matches. Not that she didn’t want to be supportive of her then-boyfriend—it would have been a fight had she not—but seeing the hot older coach was definitely a bonus in her book. “But why?” She offers, not wanting conversation to end despite her not having actually bought anything.

“If the school ever caught wind of me doing that, I could lose my position as the coach. Some shit about Karasuno’s image or whatever.” [name] gives a small nod, fidgeting subconsciously, as an attempt to shake her nerves and anxiety, by sifting through various candy bars that were in front of her before grabbing her favorite. Without a second thought, she peels the wrapper before placing the candy between her lips, the puffy pink skin greatly contrasting the chocolate coating. “Ya gonna pay for that, kid?” Ukai irks, his honey brown eyes steeling over in irritation. The nickname she’s given hits the final nail on the coffin and seals away [name]’s trepidation. Instead, her own sass comes out to join the fun.

“Nah,” she hums playfully, the chocolate-covered wafer cookie crunching between her teeth. “Quit calling me kid, coach. I’m a lady,” the irony isn’t lost on either of them as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Still a kid, kid. And quit calling me coach, I’m not your damn coach.” The familiar, grumpy attitude of his brings [name] back to the Ukai she knew back in high school. In a mix of nostalgia, warmth washes over her as the haughty tone in his voice sent shivers down her spine like it did a few years back.

“Sure thing, coach,” she teases again before tossing the wrapper of the stolen candy bar into the nearest bin. “You’re at the club tomorrow, right?” The question adds a bit of context and confirmation to Ukai—it seems she knew when Spira was performing, meaning she must have been a patron for a decent amount of time. Part of him wonders how she never realized who he was before, another part wonders how he’s never noticed her considering she could make all traffic stop if she stood in the middle of a freeway. At least, that’s what looking at her did to his heart.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this time, you’ll join us at the after party.” Without another word, [name] pushes herself away from the counter she’d been leaning on while talking to the blonde man. With Akiteru giving him the weekend off, he actually entertained the thought of attending this time. Even if her invitation was rather blasé and indirect, he didn’t see the opportunity of him attending one presenting itself any time soon. He may be old, by his own standard, but there was a unknown allure to the thought of showing up to a wild party with a woman that was so adamant of his attendance.

Or rather, adamant in his mind. Whether she actually wanted his company remained to be seen, but the curiosity was gnawing at him, and was something he would have to unearth sooner rather than later.

Having an entire night, or a day’s worth, of rest was a rather disorienting, yet pleasant feeling for Ukai. After tending to crops and returning home in the early hours of the morning, the blonde coach was able to catch a solid nine hours of sleep before his shift at the Sakanoshita store with another chance to nap before he needed to head to the club. Despite knowing he had the ability to do so before another restless night, his mind felt the need to keep him awake and alert. Even after showering and styling his blonde tresses into their usual mane—mundane acts that usually came to him automatically—he was hyper aware of the slightest unruly flyaways.

Ukai Keishin was nervous.

He didn’t know what to wear or if there was a dress code or if anything he typically wore would be deemed worthy of an after party. A part of him wanted to leave it alone and let him sport his usual white track pants and tight, maroon muscle tank, but that part of him immediately drowns in the ocean of his anxiety. Another string in his brain prompted him to dress up just a little bit to help him look the part—it had nothing to do with impressing a certain club patron, no—he tried to convince himself. A miserable attempt, but still one nonetheless.

Eventually, he settled on crisp, dark-washed jeans that hugged his muscular legs without being suffocating, paired with a vibrant, crimson muscle tee that hugged his biceps all the same. Ukai still felt a little out of place in the attire, as he often had back when he first assumed the alias Spira, but headed out the door of his apartment before his conscious could dispute it.

He was early again, even more so than normal. Desperate for a drink to calm his nerves and replace his blood with liquid courage, Ukai worms his way around to the bar, signaling the attendant for his usual. Rum and coke in hand, the DJ stands off to the side, hiding like a wallflower, while he studied the sweaty, dancing bodies. Did he know why he was looking for her—no. Maybe partially to tell her she owed him for the candy bar, maybe to tell her he was joining in on the after party this time around.

Maybe to just see her.

Keishin banishes the last thought with a shake of his head before skulking off to the attached patio to smoke. Pulling a cigarette from his pack and a lighter from his pocket, the flame torches the end of the filter at the same time the blonde inhales. Forcefully pushing the smoke out past his lips, Ukai takes a hearty sip of his drink until it’s nearly gone. He was going to need something stronger tonight.

“Is it that time already?” The older man’s head snaps to the voice that had been haunting him subconsciously.

Part of him wishes he didn’t look.

As if to play into her question, [name] checks the large, rose gold watch on her right wrist—an incredibly stark contrast to her outfit for the evening. Maybe it was a hunch when Ukai felt that he had been underdressed, as if his intuition knew that she was going to be dressed to the nines in a black skater dress. Even with a modest neckline, the lace cut out detailing on the sides of the dress accentuated her curves impeccably, playing well with the volume of the skirt, while the open back she was sporting dipped dangerously low.

It took everything in Ukai to not throw every milliliter of restraint and inhibition out the window and fuck her right then and there.

Taking a lengthy drag of his cigarette to hold himself back, Keishin inhales deeply, the smoke billowing past his lips emerging densely and grey in color. “I’m a little early—needed an extra drink today.” The man manages to choke out, downing whatever is left in his little plastic cup for added emphasis.

“Need another?” [name] chirps politely; almost too politely as if to deliberately dispute the salacious thoughts flooding the coaches mind.

“I can get—“

“I owe you anyway,” she reminds him, alluding to the candy bar she had eaten without paying for from the previous night. “Pick your poison.”

“Double rum and coke.” He concedes. [name]’s lips twitch upward slightly at the corner before she plucks the empty cup from Ukai’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way the shellac on her nails grazes against his skin, leaving the whispers of contact to run warm. Immediately, the blonde man uses the nearly dead cigarette between his teeth to light a fresh one—heaven or hell knows he needed the nicotine right now.

Given the silence, Keishin takes the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. From the general direction that [name] initially came from, she wasn’t around any of her friends or really anyone that he knew. That was good at least; there wasn’t anybody else that knew of his presence. [name] returns, two clear plastic cups in her hands and surrenders the darker of the two to the man awaiting. “Hold mine for a sec?” Without thinking, Keishin holds his cigarette between his left index and middle fingers, his drink in the same hand, while taking hers. To his surprise, she pulls out her own pack of menthols and a torch lighter, setting the leaves ablaze before taking her obvious vodka cranberry back.

“You took up smoking?” The older of the two asks in surprise, noting the way her lipstick leaves the slightest bit of residue along the brown filter. [name] gives a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, coach. I’ve been smoking since second year.” Ukai gives a roll of his eyes at the use of this strange pet name he’s been dubbed by her. But he thinks about it, thinks about how Suga must have felt probably knowing that she did. Thinks how it just added to this strange, sassy yet happy, wild and free exterior she now had. And [name] notices instantly the very same look Ukai had in his face when he was trying to strategize, trying to figure out a way to navigate a conversation with his team about becoming better—she knows what’s coming next. “Yeah, yeah, I know I should quit or whatever. Suga lost that argument a long time ago.”

“Can’t really tell you what to do when I’m just as guilty.” Ukai gives a laugh—one that is embedded with bitterness and envy at the mention of the third-year setter—yet is just as vivacious as he is. A sound entirely different than she’d ever heard leave his lungs before. She likes it.

After finishing his smoke, Keishin gulps down a hefty swig of his drink before patting [name] on the shoulder before announcing his departure. “I’ll see you inside,” the girl, woman, calls out thoughtfully as she gives a small wave with her cigarette filter between her fingers. Ukai doesn’t verbalize the same sentiment. He doesn’t want to slip up and admit he’ll be looking for her.

But it’s painfully obvious that he is when he takes over the booth. Unable to hide the fact that with every chance that he looks into the audience, he’s searching for that black skater dress that hugs her all too perfectly, [hair color] locks swaying as she moves in the crowd. Ukai can’t hide it at all—not behind the turn table or new remixes meant to get the crowd moving.

He can’t hide the urgency he feels to find her outside in the crisp evening air, smoking on the back patio of the club after his set. [name] is talking and laughing with her friends while thin grey smoke billows from her open mouth before her eyes land on him. Some of her friends take notice to the tension and their shared gazes, some of them whispering his alias in excitement. But [name] just smiles knowingly, if not a little cocky, because she can see that urgency, that desperation, that Ukai was trying to hide. “Wait, [name], do you know Spira?” A bystander asked. Clearly, they weren’t present the last time this was brought up.

“Yeah, I may have met him once or twice,” the woman in question snickers as she strides over closer and closer to the aforementioned DJ.

“Cute,” Ukai sneers teasingly at her jab before instinctively reaching for the half-gone cigarette she pulls to her stained lips. At first, she thought he was going to put it out, considering their little conversation from a few hours ago. Instead, the volleyball coach puts the filter to his own lips, noting the damp fabric probably from her freshly applied lipgloss, and takes a drag. It tasted like watermelons and mint.

“Cheeky,” [name] returns, plucking her cancer stick back from the blonde man. While her friends are still behind her murmuring about the familiarity between the two of them, Keishin and [name] are lost in their own little world. “So since your set is over, and considering you’re still here, I’m assuming you’re joining me for the after party? Or do you have to go to work again?”

“I told them I’d be out of town this weekend,” Ukai tries to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, ties to swallow it down his nerves with rum and nicotine. It proves rather difficult considering the coy smile on [name]’s face is wearing and cracking through his resolve rather quickly. But at least, to him, he could confirm his mind was not playing tricks on him and [name] was just as adamant about his attendance as he initially thought. Even more so with her next statement.

“Cool. Your car or mine?” It took him a minute to process her words even—lust thickening and constricting the flow to his brain at the vague question. Ukai was getting far too ahead of himself, but goddammit how could he focus when the fabric of her skirt hit her mid-thigh and framed her like a Venetian goddess—“I don’t mind driving there.” She adds to coax him away from his silence.

“Nah, I got it. We’ll take mine.”

“Lead the way,” [name] chimes sweetly as she wraps an arm around the coach’s forearm. The physical touch is everything he’s been fantasizing about for the last few days—hellfire and brimstone and sunlight and goddammit why did he wear jeans that were only getting tighter and tighter?

Ukai opens the passenger door to his SUV, supporting the woman as she clambered in cautiously so as not to stumble from her heels. Getting settled in, the coach surrenders his unlocked phone to allow her the entirety of his music library. The irony of the DJ surrendering DJ rights to the passenger was not lost on either of them. Much to his surprise, [name] put on soft acoustic punk as he usually did on his way home from the club. The kind of softness one would turn on to accompany the fragile pitter-patter of rain against the windshield. “Cardboard Swords?” Ukai asks in surprise, more than familiar with the band.

“Flannel is a favorite of mine. I’m kind of surprised it’s in your library.” She adds after she begins directing him to this evening’s party location. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the way her full lips are moving along each word with expertise. He sees the way her [eye color] orbs soften slightly and he can tell this song hits home for her.

She’ll never say why—she’ll never tell him this was the song that helped her move on from Sugawara Koushi while restoring her inner peace.

But Keishin is no fool. He can tell that this is physically hurting her—crushing her soul into the leather seat of his car and, instinctually, he wraps a large hand around hers that’s resting in her lap. “I came out tonight to have fun with you, so don’t you go getting sad on me.” He means each word with innocent intent, yet he cannot ignore the almost hidden, salacious drip to each syllable and neither can she. How could she when his touch sent volts of electricity through her skin?

“Right, right,” she says in a conceding tone, switching the audio to something much more upbeat and a little flirty. “Why did you agree to go out tonight?” If Ukai had an answer, then it died on his lips as he let go of [name]’s hand to reach for another cigarette. The process of lighting the tube, inhaling, and exhaling bought him an extra minute to come up with an excuse; her doing the same giving him another thirty seconds.

“I don’t know.” It’s a blatant lie—a lie that [name] believes all too easily—but Ukai can’t bring himself to admit the truth. He can’t admit out loud that she’s the only thing that’s been on his mind all week or that he jumped at the opportunity, created one even, to be able to have a one-on-one moment with her. Keishin can’t admit that he can tell there are intricate webs spun in her mind and that all he wants to do is untangle them one by one.

And he certainly can’t tell her that even the mere sight of her sends his brain into overdrive and all he wants to do is repeatedly fill her over and over with his seed until she is entirely his, inside and out in mind, body, and soul. There was no way in the nine circles of hell that Ukai Keishin was going to admit to his sinful thoughts.

“It’s just up here.” [name] points with gaunt fingers, cigarette between them as her voice is half choked from inhaling her own smoke. Mirroring the man’s actions earlier, she indulged in her own nicotine habit to quell the budding disappointment from Ukai’s lackluster response. They drove up a slight winding hill and as the trees pass by, the itch for her truth and her history was gnawing at him. He wanted to know why this rambunctious party girl invited him all week to these elusive after parties. Why Flannel ate away at her insides like it did his. Why did her and Sugawara breakup?

But he decides against it for the moment.

“Where are we?” Ukai asks. There’s cars all lining the sides of the road of varying worth—he felt even more out of place than normal with his older SUV, even if it was an upgrade for him, considering the large number of luxury vehicles.

“Bevelle’s house.” [name] says simply, pointing to an empty space in the streets as she throws the butt of her cigarette into the road. The casual way she name drops the owner of the club makes him gawk, catching flies in his mouth had there been any at the hour. With a satisfied, cheesy grin, she hops out of her seat and walks in the grass to meet Ukai on the other side as he clambers out of the vehicle as well. In familiarity, she grips into his forearm once again as they walk towards the forest mansion.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to expect when the two of them walked in, but a home full of people screaming his pseudonym and her name was not on that list. Younger hordes had surrounded [name], greeting her warmly and telling her how glad they were to see her again for the evening. Others were approaching Ukai, telling them how rare and a momentous occasion that the infamous artist Spira was amongst their midst.

“Glad to see you could join us, Spira.” His boss and club owner, Bevelle, approaches the mismatched couple. Bevelle was an alias used by the middle aged woman, her real name unknown to those that didn’t know her know her, and was once upon a time her stage name. While she had chosen a quiet location in the Miyagi prefecture, Bevelle was quite known in the underground scene. Granted, Ukai didn’t know any of that when he’d taken the job. If anything, it was all thanks to her that he was able to learn for his own success as well as granting him the opportunity to learn in the first place. “Good to see you too, trouble.” Bevelle affectionately goes to muss at [name]’s hair, to which she only replies with a cheeky grin.

“How do you know Bevelle?” Ukai presses his lips towards the ear of the woman still hanging onto him as she expertly leads the way to the kitchen. The car ride left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, ashamed even though she would never admit to that, and she knew she definitely needed a drink after it. Part of her was heavily rebuking herself for trying to pry into his mind by asking why he came along, even more so when she put on the one song that shattered her heart every time she heard it. It just excited her that he had it in his library, that he even knew who The Cardboard Swords were, and that he enjoyed the same obscure taste in music as much as she did.

“She’s a close family friend!” The chirp that [name] gives isn’t entirely convincing, like she isn’t telling the truth. Regardless, Ukai washes down his doubt with the beer he was handed, figuring she probably had her reasons. And as soon as the plastic is in each of their hands, [name] downs the contents immediately, hoping to drown out the nerves ebbing from her stomach with vodka. She should have been ecstatic—her old high school crush, her unrequited crush, was here with her, drinking side by side but she can’t help but feel the tension between them—sexual or otherwise.

Just as the two of them down their second round, a piercing voice cuts through the thicket of the masses, calling out her name and capturing her attention. “It’s your song! Come on!” A shrug and a smile crosses [name]’s features as she’s all but dragged away to a different part of the mansion. Much to his surprise, she grabbed onto Keishin to drag him along as well.

The two of them are presented with a myriad of sweaty, rolling bodies—much more gone than Ukai had ever seen at the club itself. It was oddly...sensual, if it could be called that, to see the fluid movements between party goers. Sensual, intimate, strange—all of them could be used interchangeably at this moment.

[name] is dancing with another woman, mouthing all of the words to the current pop song while bobbing and jumping around excitedly before her eyes lock on his. She’s in her element now. All sunshine and smiles like Ukai had seen from on occasion from years ago or most recently at the club, but they’re directed at him for once as she pulls him closer onto the dance floor. The taunting beats and repetitive call of “come on” and the way [name] loosely wraps her arms around his neck as she dances brings Ukai to the realization that this was the end of the line.

The end of the line, because Keishin can’t hold himself back anymore.

Not with the way her hips are grinding against is and she’s laughing warmly and heartily at his slight discomfort and her teeth are glittering off the lights in the dark room like stars in the night sky. Not with the way her head is thrown back and her dress drops low enough to flaunt the expanse of bare skin of her neck and collar bones that are just begging him to sink his teeth in. Not with the way her [eye color]ed orbs are locked with his as she sings along with the music, oddly enough alluding to some form of confession of her feelings.

He can’t fucking take it anymore.

The large hands he has on her hips move just under her arms to hoist her up, [name] instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her balance. Their eyes are locked, honed in on each other with the rest of the party melting into the background. With her deepest, most wild high school fantasy driving her actions, she grins. “Hi,” is all she says before Ukai cranes his neck back to cover her lips with his.

His kiss is everything she imagined it would be after years of pining. The smell and taste of smoke and wood floods her senses as his tongue laps at the watermelon lip gloss on her bottom lip before seeking refuge within her mouth. His hands, now wrapped around her thighs give intermittent squeezes, either to keep them grounded in reality or just because he needs something to clutch at—she’s unsure of which. In response, her manicured fingernails tangle into his messy blonde locks. Their kiss pours out their desperation, laying it all out on the table for the both of them to see clear as day.

The only thing that prompts them to break apart is the ending of the song.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ukai asks as he tenderly puts [name] back on the ground. As if he weren’t just making out with her moments ago, the motion is delicate and gingerly and almost loving.

“Not yet,” there’s a knowing, smug lilt in her voice as she turns on her heel and throw herself back into the throng of party people. Or rather, attempts. While she’s attempting to flee, Keishin snatches her wrist, pulling her closer until their chests are flush against each other.

“Nuh uh,” the blonde man tuts, “you’ve been asking me to join you at a party all week, now here I am. The hell makes you think you’re leaving my side tonight?” [name]’s grin only grows wider.

“I’ve waited for years for this opportunity, coach, so if you think I’m not gonna have fun with it, you’re dead wrong.” The word ‘years’ constricts the man’s heart—forces his pupils to blow into dilation with her modest, yet blunt confession.

“Years?”

“Years,” she repeats, “ever since that first practice you stumbled into the Karasuno gym as the temporary coach. Why do you think I came to every single exhibition match and tournament? Or came to study and do homework while you guys had practice?” This girl was grinding at every steel line of self-control that was left in Ukai’s body because every word spilling past her lips added an additional ten volts to the sexual tension between them.

“We’re leaving.” He bites out despite the delicate tone. Wrapping his hand around hers once again, Keishin tugs her along time dodge the party goers that threw the two of them curious glances, wondering why they were quick to leave shortly after their arrival. Just to tease him further, [name] almost wants to offer a rebuttal and tell him that they should stay longer and enjoy the show. However, she knows she’s done enough waiting and if he was taking her home, she wasn’t going to argue.

While urgency and desperation was their game, Keishin didn’t cut corners when it came to presenting himself as a gentleman as he helped [name] back into the car. Hormones be damned—he was still going to help a lady into the passengers seat. “You never did tell me why you finally agreed to come out tonight.” She says quietly, as if the two of them hadn’t been making out and dry humping a few minutes prior. “And it’s clearly not because you knew I had a crush on you all throughout third year—“

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with feelings in this.” Ukai grits out, speeding much faster back home than he did on the way to Bevelle’s house. Paying that no mind, [name]’s ears perk up at his own wayward confession. When she asked for clarity, a rumbling groan shakes his chest as he patted down his pockets in search for his nicotine sticks. “I didn’t recognize you the first night at the club because you look different now. Happiness looks good on you.”

“Happiness?” She echos confusedly, turning to face Ukai fully after lighting her own cigarette.

“You used to always look content back then—just barely content and nothing more. And I can’t stop thinking back to those days because you’re this ball of sunshine, kid, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell Suga did to you to dim your shine that badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week.”

[name] is quiet for a moment at his own rendition, his own version, of a confession and she’s stunned. And she can’t tell if she wants to cry or kiss him because this is not that way she ever fantasized this conversation going. It was going better than she dreamed. Better, because the words that Ukai is saying adds an entirely new layer to his amped up personality—he wasn’t just the sexy volleyball coach that she used to pine over. He was a person with deep rooted feelings for justice in the sense of wanting to understand how someone could inflict damage to the innocent and he wanted to rectify said injustices. He wanted to know how someone like Suga could try to dampen her sunlight instead of allowing her to thrive and bloom.

She wants to kiss him, she decides, but since he’s driving, she settles for placing a chaste one on the corner of his mouth. “Serves you right,” she jokes when she pulls away, “it’s been a long four years for me. It’s your turn to suffer.”

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

[ next ]

#haikyu!!#haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #ukai keishin #haikyuu ukai #hq ukai #ukai x reader #ukai scenario #keishin ukai x reader #dj!au #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara imagine #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #nsfhq

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fritae · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece : Chapter 1

Gang leader! AU / Corporate! AU

Characters: Dabi x F/OC

Status: Ongoing

Summary:

Rina Aoki is the secretary of one of the world's biggest broadcasting stations - only she hates her job and wakes up everyday asking herself if this is all there is to life. Then, she meets Dabi: a man of overpowering confidence and many, many secrets. But beneath all that confidence is a wounded soul and years' worth of repressed anger. The two struggle with fear, ambition, vulnerability - but eventually learn that life may just be better when you don't have to struggle alone.

A/N:

There are no quirks in this story. I tried to give it a real world spin. But it will explore dynamics between good and evil, right and wrong, and feelings of family, friendship, love and belonging. I'm super excited about the story and I hope you enjoy it!Chapter 1: the meeting

Chapter One: The Meeting

It was raining.

I hide my tote under my coat out of fear for my laptop. If it gets wet, I'm done for. My boss isn't exactly the most considerate person out there. If anything were to happen to the highly coveted files on it, I might as well hand in my resignation.

I sigh with relief once the bus arrives, and quickly hurry inside.

As I find a seat, I lean my head against the window, not caring for germs or the subtle tremble of the glass. It feels cool against my skin, and not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. But more importantly, it is distracting. It'll give me something else to focus on during the ride.

At least I hoped so.

But within minutes, it becomes clear that my mind has no intention of being distracted. The thoughts creep in and suddenly the soft hum of the engine is no match against the throbbing in my head.

Of course not.

Distractions simply don't last long these days.

So I surrender to the thoughts as I stare at the passing streets, feeling increasingly empty by the minute.

I hate my job. I hate everything about it. Working as a secretary for a broadcasting company is a dream for many. The salary isn't bad. I have access to exclusive events and frequently coordinate with the biggest names in the industry. I know the ins and outs of selling an idea and making it resonate with millions.

But I quickly learned all the people in this industry are insufferable. The whole premise rests upon the art of manipulation, taking something that may very well be worthless and conning people into thinking it will fill a hole they didn't even know they had. The people are superficial, be it actors or other famous personalities. Everyone is so obsessed with images. How to best put on a show to gain the love and admiration of millions.

But what use is their love if it's built upon the distortion of reality?

I shake my head before burying it in my palms.

No matter, I tell myself.

As frustrating and unfulfilling as the work may be, it pays the bills and keeps me busy.

A little too busy...

I get up once my stop arrives. I say a quick thank you to the bus driver before hurrying out.

The cold makes me shiver and I pull my skirt to cover more of my thighs before plastering a fake smile onto my face.

The fake smile is part of the uniform here.

My heels click together with attitude as I make my way through the building. The noise hits my ears immediately. Loud chattering, blaring music and upbeat announcements stand in sharp contrast to the calm of the rainy world outside. I blow kisses as my colleagues call out my name from the studio floor.

My friend and roommate Aliyah takes off her headset to wave me over. She left home extra early today owing to her busy schedule as floor manager. The glaring lights tell me they're about to start shooting but as much as I want to help her with final preparations, I have more important things to worry about right now.

"Can't talk now, Al!" I say apologetically. With one point to my tote bag, she understands. "Good luck!" she shouts back, before returning her attention to the production crew.

I sigh.

I will definitely need all the luck I can get.

I take the elevator up to the highest floor of the company. While our studios are bright, loud and fun. The offices are formal, professional and characteristic of a multibillion dollar company. I knock twice before heading into the largest office at the end of the hall, where my boss is waiting for me. The letters NNTV adorn the walls in an elegant gold print behind him.

A pair of glasses sits on the bridge of Mr. Lane's nose as he reads over today's reports.

"You're late, Ms. Aoki." He says without looking up.

"Apologies, sir. It was unexpected."

"Do I not say to account for the unexpected in your planning, Ms. Aoki?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

He offers me a *tsk* in response.

"Our ratings have gone down this month. Much more than we anticipated." Mr. Lane grumbles.

"CBS' new reality show has attracted a lot of viewers, sir. It's competing with our usual broadcasts at-."

"Then why have you not found a program to substitute whatever we usually air at that time?"

I bite back a sigh. "The current schedule is the most optimal, sir. If we switch around any programs we risk affecting the viewership of The Midnight Show and Killer."

"Well then figure something out!" He barks. "That's what your job is, isn't it?"

"We have a team for a reason, sir. Perhaps we can consult them today? I can schedule an emergency meeting to address this."

I say this knowing the rest of the team won't alter the schedule. The nature of the industry is ratings fluctuate all the time. To change our scheduling at every hint of a drop will only harm our future ratings.

He waves me away. "Schedule it for two hours from now. Cancel anything else I have at that time."

"Yes sir." I confirm, before turning around.

My nostrils seethe as I suddenly hear him mutter *Useless* under his breath.

The rest of the day is spent taking more orders and backtracking on Mr. Lane's previous decisions. Just as I'd expected, the board decided it would be better to simply wait out the next two weeks until the current programs are finished before rearranging any of the schedules. I make a mental note to consider what might be a suitable alternative in the meantime.

The hours drag on. I should have been done at 5, but 7 o clock hits and I'm still taking phone call after phone call. It isn't until a quarter to 9 that I can finally go home.

I sigh as I pass the much quieter studio floor on the way out. I don't find Aliyah among the crew, but I'm sure she's taking care of her own things at the moment. The Midnight Show is scheduled for well, midnight, so she's probably taking a final break before her last project of the night.

Once I am outside, I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding in. Instead of taking the bus straight home, I find myself walking toward Café Du Monde. It sits a few blocks away from the NNTV building.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries greets me as I enter. The soft jazz is welcomed by my ears after a day of nonstop chatter and corporate debate.

As I stand in line, I remind myself to pick up coffees before I leave for the crew working late tonight. Hopefully Aliyah will be back by then.

---

"Shit," I hear the man ahead of me in line mutter. "I think I forgot my wallet back in the office."

He checks his pockets again, but finding them empty he looks up at the cashier. "Sorry man, I'll be back another day."

But before he could walk away, I step up to the register. "It's okay, I got it."

He glances at me. "Nah, don't-"

"It's nothing. Can you add another coffee to the order please?"

The cashier punches a few numbers into the register and I hand him a 20.

---

The man tips his hand in thanks. I nod back at him and walk up to the roof.

With a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, I sigh. Now to get the day out of my system...

"How can I repay you," A smooth voice says behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see the man walk up to the ledge with me. He has electrifying blue eyes, a head of thick dark hair, and the kind of walk that signifies authority.

"You good at conversation?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment. "How about I let you be the judge of that?"

I pass the man a cigarette. "Then distract me."

"You don't look like the type to smoke." He comments before accepting it.

"Looks can be deceiving." I shrug.

"It feel good or something?"

"Or something." I confirm with a smile. "Just reminds me to breathe in," and with a soft easing in my chest, "and breathe out."

He leans back against the railing. "Hm. You know breathing quality isn't exactly what people would associate with cigarettes."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean."

The man chuckles. "Yeah. Although I think rearranging a few things in your life would help more than smoking. Don't want to grow reliant on an outside source for relief now."

"Well, well. Wasn't aware I was speaking to a mental health guru."

He seems amused by that. "That's not what the people working for me would say but it's nice to know their sentiments aren't universal."

"Ah. So you're a shitty boss."

"I'm just a boss." He corrects. "What people think of me has nothing to do with me."

"Must be nice to believe that." I sigh, taking another puff of my roll.

"No reason not to, eh? Letting others' opinions matter to you means you lose power over yourself. There's nothing you could want from them that you can't do for yourself."

"Money?" I suggest.

"That's easy. But it depends on how willing you are to work for it."

"Work quite a lot." I scowl. "...starting to wonder if it's worth the headache, to be honest."

The man leans closer to me, his breath warm against my ear. I try not to focus on the scent of his cologne, musky with notes of amber and cedar wood. "Then what you want isn't really money. Sounds like you want more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Money by itself isn't satisfying," He says matter of factly. He leans away to take a sip of his coffee. "Only when it's coupled with a goal."

"Hm."

"Money doesn't take you anywhere; it's just a means to an end." He continues. There's an air of mystery behind those turquoise eyes of his. "Your goal is what guides you. Where do you want to go?"

Someone in this neighborhood that doesn't live and die for money? I almost want to laugh. What goal guides him then? What does he stay alive for?

But I keep those questions to myself. I shouldn't get too close to a man I'll never see again.

"I want to be my own boss." I say with a soft smile. Be my own boss. Wouldn't that be nice? No more waking up with Mr. Lane's voice already echoing in my head. No more plastering fake smiles and maintaining that "professional" semblance for hours on end. "I'm tired of taking orders from other people."

I almost miss the sudden gleam in his eye.

"Now that's more like it."

---

I leave the cafe with a box of donuts in one hand and a coffee tote in the other.

I said goodbye to the stranger, happy to have shared these thoughts with someone. It strikes me that I didn't even ask his name.

I shrug. Perhaps that's the magic of moments like these. The universe puts us in places we don't expect to be in. Brings two strangers together and they realize maybe this meeting was just what they needed today. The man got his coffee and I...I was able to let my thoughts run freely.

At least for a while.

"And now we abandon the fantasies and return to reality," I mutter with a sigh. I hook my pinkie with the large glass double doors of NNTV and pull the handle toward me.

There's a small audience present now, the guests for the Midnight Show. I walk around them and smile when I find Aliyah, arms crossed and eyes trained on the set, trying to catch any faults before we air.

"Al!" I call out in a whisper. She immediately looks my way, face lighting up at the sight of the coffee.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver!" She says excitedly as she takes the sweets from my hand. "Hey Joe, set this up for the crew, will ya?"

An intern shuffles forward and takes the bags anxiously to prepare a little station for the team.

"How'd you know I needed the coffee?" She smiles at me.

"Because I needed the coffee," I say with a laugh. "And you've been awake far longer than I have."

Aliyah laughs and rubs her eyes. "I forget how much time I spend here sometimes. No matter - you staying for the show tonight?"

I smile apologetically. "You know I'd love to, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I've got a long day tomorrow, I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get."

I say goodbye to the rest of the crew, smiling sheepishly as they spout *thank you*s for the late night coffee and donuts, and make my way home.

Later that night, as I lay in bed with my eyes trained on the ceiling, I feel a sudden urge to whisper these words out loud.

Please let my life be worth more than the value I add to a company.

#dabi #dabi x oc #dabi x female reader #todoroki touya #dabi fic #dabi fanfic #dabi angst #dabi fluff

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kyndaris · 4 years

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A Hero Lies in You

On April Fool’s Day 2019, a video was released showing the latest game in the Yakuza franchise. Many thought it was a prank. The reason why? The sudden change in combat. Gone was the brawler beat-em-up that was associated with the series. In its stead was a turn-based system reminiscent of role-playing games. Characters waiting for their turns before utilising special skills? In a franchise known for its hard gritty storylines about gangs duking it out in the streets of Japan? ‘Haha Ryu Ga Gotoku. You thought you could fool us, but we see right through you. This isn’t our first rodeo and you’re not Square Enix,’ was many a thought when the footage had been viewed by thousands online.

What gamers did not know was that this was no gag. Fast forward several months to August 2019 and it was confirmed that Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon, starring new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban, would actually incorporate turn-based battles. There would even be JOBS!

As I had just finished playing through Kiryu’s story, as well as Judgment, in 2020 I was eager to see what new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban would bring to the table. From trailers, I could already see how much livelier Ichiban would be in comparison to the more stoic Kiryu. And, in contrast to Yagami, he was definitely more of an idiot. A lovable idiot, to be sure, but an idiot nonetheless.

Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon released in a huge week for video games. While I would have preferred to play it earlier, I had other huge titans to wrestle into submission first. Once I had managed to satiate my Ubisoft open-world needs with Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, I dived head first onto the streets of Yokohama, ready to bust some heads.

The game opens on a play. For a moment, I thought I had somehow purchased the wrong game. But as the lengthy prologue progressed, it was very clear that this was most definitely a Yakuza game. It just needed to set up a little bit of the tale, starting with Arakawa Masumi - father figure and role-model for our erstwhile hero. It isn’t long before players are introduced to Kasuga Ichiban with his trademark ‘punch perm.’ Born in a soapland and raised by those that lived on the fringes of society, Ichiban, rather than being hardened by his experience, is empathetic and not afraid to show emotion. Tasked with collection, he interprets his orders in a way to benefit those that are struggling. His goofball attitude immediately makes him a character one can connect to. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a nerd, having played Dragon Quest during his childhood and likening many of the people around him to things in the game.

It’s not long before the plot escalates and Ichiban volunteers to give himself up to the police. Sentenced to fifteen years in prison, he inadvertently extends his sentence when his Patriarch is insulted by one of the fellow inmates. After nearly two decades spent in prison for a crime that he did not commit, Ichiban is released with little fanfare and no waiting convoy. Disappointed, he takes it in stride. The first thing on his order of business: to get his signature punch perm and reconnect with his second father-figure and Patriarch of the Arakawa family.

Along the way, he is dogged by a former policeman: Adachi. At first, it isn’t made clear why Adachi seeks Ichiban for help. After all, Ichiban had supposedly killed another yakuza in Kamurocho, Tokyo. Adachi, on the other hand, was a detective in Yokohama. Why would he have any interest in uncovering the truth behind what had put Ichiban behind bars?

After a few shenanigans are had in and around Kamurocho, our protagonist is shot and left for dead - waking up in a homeless shelter in the heart of Isezaki Ijincho. Climbing his way from rock bottom, Ichiban embarks on a journey to uncover the truth, stumbling upon a series of events and unearthing a vast conspiracy in which he was to serve as a pawn.

Many of the earlier chapters felt a little contrived. In particular was the death of Nonomiya. While it served to move the narrative forward, it was most assuredly a means to an end that didn’t highlight any significant character growth. Poor Nonomiya was fridged just to bring Ichiban into conflict with the Liumang branch of the Ijin Three.

It was only in the later chapters that the story picked up steam - with the confrontations with Bleach Japan and the encroachment by the Omi Alliance. Joined by a menagerie of characters like Zhao, Saeko, Han Joon-Gi, Nanba and Eri, there was a lot to keep track on as the plot barrelled forward at a breakneck pace, connecting Ichiban’s past with his current present and all the while setting up a juicy conflict between two men that could have been brothers. And honestly, the ending with Arakawa Masato and Ichiban got to me. I loved how that Ichiban was finally able to reach his old charge by being vulnerable and finally letting out a little of his resentment at the life Masato led, despite the fact that he could not use his legs.

The characters were superbly written and their motivations were a good reflection of the human condition. The themes of family and finding a home were evident, right from the start, even though a lot of it was glossed over by Ichiban’s desire to be a hero in a video game.

(I also really liked Seong-hui and would love to see her be an actual playable character in possible future instalments. On a side note, Arakawa...you cannot simply say: ‘See you tomorrow, Ichi,’ and expect to walk away. You basically wrote your own name into the Death Note with that line!)

As far as aping Japanese role-playing games go, however, Yakuza: Like a Dragon falls woefully short. While the Tendo twist was a good one - it was pulled a little too early. Worse, there was no world-ending threat. Everyone knows that a Japanese role-playing game MUST HAVE A VILLAIN/ EVIL GOD FIGURE THAT INTENDS TO DESTROY THE WORLD. Yakuza: Like a Dragon was too focused on old childhood rivalries to extend it further afield. I mean, yes, Aoki Ryo hoped to pull the strings of the Japanese government as chair of the CLP, but WHERE WAS THE METEOR HURTLING TOWARDS EARTH?

Honestly, 1/10 for holding true to Japanese role-playing games.

Other than that, the summons with Pound Mates was amusing. As were the side stories. Honestly, there can never be enough side stories to flesh out the wacky world of the Yakuza franchise. So many old favourites made their return. From Pocket Fighter (now dubbed Dragon Fighter) and Gondawara Susumu with his baby fetish.

Also, I didn’t think I’d be so obsessed with it, but I think they cracked property management this time round. Ichiban Confections, later known as Ichiban Holdings, was a blast to manage and accrue juicy money for.

The bartender of Survive also looked very familiar. I mean...what with the huge scar across his face. My suspicions were confirmed when I searched up Kashiwagi up on the Yakuza wiki page and was awarded with the fact that HE MANAGED TO SURVIVE THE ASSAULT HELICOPTER FROM YAKUZA 3!!

Other than that, my few other gripes involved the implementation of the levelling system and the way area of effect skills were handled. In particular, the pathing for how characters moved around the battlefield proved, at least to me, a bit of a frustration. Often, characters would be blocked by a knee-high fence or a corner. Sometimes they would be able to go around, but other times the game (after several seconds of watching them fail to walk through a solid building) warp to the enemy that I had targeted to launch their attack.

And even though the combat is turn-based, most of the enemies tend to walk around the battlefield - either clumping together or distancing themselves from each other. What truly annoyed me was when there were moves that could be used as an area of effect, with the MP cost to go along with it, but were limited by their effectiveness when the enemy combatants were too far away. Yes, it makes sense, but golly gosh, how much of a pixel measurement does it have to be for it to not hit?

Besides that, the levelling was also a bit of a tedious chore. Were it not for the invested vagrants, I feel like I might have put the game down with how much grinding there was - particularly when it came to the various jobs. The biggest hill to climb was from 20-30. Without the exp (experience point) boosting items, it would have been a torturous slog. I know that in the original Japanese release of the game, the cap for jobs was level 30, but if you change it to 99, please, for the sanity of all the gamers out there, tweak the requirements to make it easier. And maybe give normal trash mobs a bit more experience points for the playable characters to munch on.

Goodness, imagine having to grind on level 55 Ornery Yakuza and receiving a paltry 1000xp for each battle (when, in order to level up a job, you needed almost a million).

Yakuza: Like a Dragon is a break from the traditional formula that’s been a staple of the franchise for many years. Much like Ichiban, it’s a bit of fresh air to liven up the experience that might have gone a bit stale after I slogged through the whole Kiryu arc last year. With a few tweaks, and a few more Persona 5 CD soundtracks, I’m eager to see how the story evolves and whatever contrivances Ichiban will somehow force him into.

Although, to be fair, is it still appropriate to call this franchise Yakuza when the game literally saw the dismantling of the two biggest clans? Then again, Civilian: Like a Dragon 2 just doesn’t have the same ring to it. In any case, I hope the next one comes soon and we’ll be able to have Seong-hui in our party. I feel like she’d be wielding a gunblade.

(Did I just use a lyric from Mariah Carey? You bet I did! I had been tossing up the idea between this line and ‘I need a hero.’ Why? Well, I think that would be self-explanatory after knowing Ichiban’s proclivities. And it fits so, so, so well!)

#yakuza 7: like a dragon #yakuza #video games #i need a hero

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year

Note

YEAH YEAH YEAH I thought that was exactly what Aoki was getting at too! Completely reasonable. Also not entirely wrong of him to think so since he has historically been treated in a way where he'd see himself as the highest priority...

I have not finished the ep even now! I really do mean it's taken me 24+ hours to get through 20 minutes lol I'm truly unwell but thank you for the reassurance there is no more Tsutsumi Cruelty ahead <3 the mind link is real... I'm excited for eps 2 and 3!

By the way, here is Tsutsumi singing. In complete fairness he is deliberately making himself sound worse than he actually does in both cases but if you've ever wanted to imagine Jo WAILING along to completely unfitting songs at karaoke, now you can

AH OK nice to know i don't sound entirely bizarre 😩 it just ties back to how aoki's aware of the privileges that come with not just having arakawa (and jo) as his parents In General (having a stable family and parent/s that are there to support him), but the additional power and opportunity that comes with them being yakuza and all

ok im sure you've finished the episode by now i meant to respond to this hours ago cause i always feel awkward trying to respond to these asks on mobile so i had to wait to get home first ☠️☠️ EITHER WAY YAY OR NAY i hope you enjoy the coming episodes ! they really are the sort of jumping-off point for the series- like theyre REALLY where things finally start to go accordingly. all things considered. a breakthrough i think is what im trying to say POINT IS i was cheering by the end of it lvakevjlkj

if this is tsutsumi singing at his worst/worse than he could then i will forever wonder a timeline where he is sincerely trying cause these dont sound all that bad (they're endearing even vjlkj) 😷

#fave #i forgot my og tag for asks from you uh oh jALKJ #snap chats #imagine me sitting in the parking lot of a pool store just blaring tsutsumi singing on my little speaker while my bro got supplies JVLAKJ #whenever we go out driving i bring my little wireless speaker so we can listen to music from my phone but it of course plays audio period #and since i was alone in the car and reading the ask i was just like 'eh why not' vjvelkj #AGAIN he doesnt even sound bad... not when he's trying to sound bad. or 'trying to sound bad'. not trying to sound good?#point is its cute. that is what im trying to say my ass needs to get back to school RIGHT now #speaking of. brain failure this beer still sucks #it tastes weirdly fresh though..... the power of cans god damn....

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 5 years

Text

🥊 Sun 23 Feb 🎰

Ziam in Vegas!

Last night gave us the most band unity we've seen displayed in years as 4/5 let us know how excited they were about the Tyson Fury boxing match! Two were in attendance and two tweeted excitedly about the British/Irish heavyweight's win, with only avid boxer Harry remaining characteristically quiet- the group chat everyone likes to fantasize about them having would have been going absolutely mental for this one. Liam had been telling us he was going but everyone else getting involved was unexpected (well, is Niall tweeting about sports ever really unexpected though?), with Louis and Niall both tweeting about the upset victory within minutes of each other. Liam posted video from where he watched the fight from front row ringside (thanks to a friend of Paul Higgins' apparently), and then ZAYN came in with the real shock of the night and posted from his seat just a little further back in the same crowd- Liam's blurry little head is maybe even in his picture! After the fight Zayn posted a pic of his crew headed into their hotel, the same one as Liam had posted from earlier in the day, and Liam turned up at the club of that same hotel, performing with Steve Aoki (ikr, but wait, an even more random player is about to enter this narrative), then youtuber Jake Paul tweeted whining and threatening Zayn for having "told him to fuck off for no reason" (yesss we stan, tell him Zaynie), then Gigi got in to say "Lol cause he doesn’t care to hang w you and your embarrassing crew of YouTube groupies? Home alone with his best friends like a respectful king cause he has me, sweetie. Unbothered by your irrelevant ugly ass. Go to bed." Whether her primary goal was to defend Zayn or, as some think, to make headlines (which she did), the result is the same: more people telling a racist abuser creep to fuck off! Here for that.

People were trying to place the other boys in Vegas too because... why not I guess? Niall at least is definitively in the UK still and thank goodness, poor Niall is just recovering from that terrible jetlag and you're trying to put him back in Vegas? Awful! He posted on his way out for lunch and to a rugby match (how much sport can a man cram into one day? Niall is game to find out) and took fan pics in the hospitality suite. HBBW today: clear skies and fog, and the track listing for the Japanese edition of HBW is up with two bonus tracks: Dress and Nothing which are presumably not covers but are the names of songs by other artists in Niall's interest categories, interesting.

As for Harry and Louis, they both continue to be MIA. Unsubstantiated (and frankly extremely made up sounding*) rumors place Harry in Philadelphia and Louis in LA, and Eleanor was today publicly in LA for the first time in a VERY long time. As usual when anything is on US time- UGH. Hell on my posting schedule! Perhaps after I post this something else will happen! Idk! Whatever!

*pretty sure the rule is that the stupider something sounds the likelier it is to turn out to be real but this is really pushing it, the idea that someone just happened to be driving by Xander's house (and knew that) and saw Harry "standing in the front yard" and he had blond hair I mean COME ON am I meant to take this seriously and also ew please stop driving by Xander's house, real or imagined. Like might Harry be in the US, you bet! He has shows in NY coming up! But like... what is this. Louis being in LA would make sense as he has business there often and won't have time to attend any of it for a while once tour starts, but I'll need more than "I swear I saw him in a Starbucks" before I consider it confirmed.

Meanwhile Adore You hit the top ten, marking Harry's first Mediabase Pop Charts Top Ten single! Ever! And Falling also headed up the UK charts and showed up at number six on the UK Big Top 40 and I guess it's a single now? Like not coming soon the next single but NOW um okay?? All right then. It climbed some chart numbers after Harry's Brit performance but it had done that before without being a single, but now I guess it is, idek: what makes a song a single? I thought there was more involved than wordplay but shows what I know. But seriously, not even a little bitty press release? Nothing? OK Jeff.

And Louis posted an IGTV from the Scala show, v nice.

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Whitmore Guy comes clean

Whitmore Guy masterlist

word count: 4158

music: why are you here by mgk, halfway dead by steve aoki, global dan and travis barker

“I’m here”, he said after a pause. By this time she was already sat in her bed, in a defensive position, with her knees firmly in the mattress.

“Mal!”

He didn’t let her finish.

“Would you have preferred me to stay invisible, would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked reasonably, reading her mind. “You know I’ve been here. Because I told you”.

“Bonnie did”, she yelled, “Bonnie did! What are you, Mal?”

Mal stepped out of the darkness without making noise, and it hit her finally. Finally. He’s not human. There’s no way in hell he’s mortal! The way he moves, the way he never looks tired, although he claims to barely ever sleep, the way he just manifests himself at places; she thought of the first time they met, back in the gatherings hall, and how he smelt sweet like chewing candy. And how she thought he might be a trickster. That would suit him well. The eyes were pitch black in the twilight of the room. Y/N didn’t move.

“That’s a bit harsh”, he said coldly. “What am I, really? You think I’m some kind of monster?”

He chuckled and gave his light attitude away.

“How did you get inside my house? You never broke the lock”, she said quietly.

“I picked it. It’s easy. Do you want me to show you?”

She got out of bed puffing. She wasn’t afraid of him, but he creeped her out. If that makes sense? She felt like she could take him out, no matter what, and not because she could arguably throw a punch. But because she had certain power over him. Mal has always been nice to her, not in a friendly way, but in a ‘you’re special’ way. As opposed to everybody else. With other people, he was superficial, secretly arrogant and dismissive, but he treated her differently which, unfortunately for him, gave her the advantage. That’s what she thought.

Mal smiled slowly as she approached him, circling the bed. He bit his lower lip, pretending to check her out.

“You never answer any of my questions. You never tell me the truth”.

“I never lie to you, either. You just gotta ask the right questions”.

Mal lifted his hand and looked at the invisible watch on his wrist.

“We have to go. Can you get dressed really quickly?”

She narrowed her eyes. Obviously, something’s up if he showed up in her house. And didn’t ‘stay invisible’. Clearly, she needs to call Damon ASAP and check on them. Her paranoia told her to. Yet, she was standing there, in comfortable darkness, allowing him to listen to her heartbeat, two steps away from him, and her head was filled with the memories of them making out on the couch after the dinner party. Between the dinner party and finding the bodies in the house next door. She wanted to kiss him again, wanted so very badly, but thankfully, she was a thinking creature. Hot take: the desires of the body are not stronger than the council of the brain. Mal wanted that, too. His face was lean, wolf-like in the shadows, and he watched her carefully, badly hidden threat behind his smile. His smile was always only lips-deep, like a sticker he put over his face, like a mask. Every time Y/N touched him, it fell, and she took in his deep, dark color, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

“You think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re severely mistaken”, she said.

“I thought you wanted to know the truth”, Mal said innocently, and tilted his head.

“Truth about what? There’s too many things messed up to know clearly what you mean”.

“What if I tell you they’re all connected? Your gape in the head, and Damon going on a killing spree, and…” he paused, puzzled, “uh… that…” he closed his eyes, ruining the mysterious allure. He was trying to recall a name again. “That dude… Ma… Mutt?”

“Mal, fucking hell”, she threw her hands up, “Matt, his name was Matt, and he was one of my best friends”.

Mal nodded, seeing that she wasn’t joking anymore. Y/N stepped away and went to the window to open the curtains and let some more light into the room.

“Why don’t you jump out of your pj’s and put something on, so that we can go? It won’t be too nice in the town for the next ten hours or so”.

She turned abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

Mal shrugged again.

“I will honestly strike you on the head if you don’t stop talking in riddles”.

Mal licked his lips, and she finally saw, as the street light fell on him, that his jaws were pressed together. His eyes were dark because he was pissed, even though he smiled, even though his voice was close to normal, the usual. There was a time bomb inside his head, and she could all but hear the ticking behind his eyes.

“Listen, I don’t have time to chat you up, okay?” he said, and it sounded like he was a stranger. Y/N’s instincts kicked in, and she grouped standing at the window, like a small animal. As Mal moved towards her, her brain made a crazy attempt to convince her crawling out of the window will be a good idea.

When he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, she could feel the zip again, that happened occasionally. He always wore synthetic shirts, and she got quite used to it. She never even brought it up, and now suddenly, it was clear as day that she should have. There were no accidents with Mal. This weird itchy feeling when he touched her, meant something and he knew about it, too. She was startled for a second, then she tried to kick out, but his fingers wrapped around her forearm decisively.

“I gave you a chance to change, now you gotta ride all the way to Georgia in your sleeping shirt”.

She didn’t know how he managed to drag her down the stairs, but when she blinked, they were already standing at the driveway. Mal walked towards her car taking her keys out of his pocket.

“Get in, we’re going”.

“What have I gotten into”, she mumbled, approaching the car and opening the door slowly. “You’re too strong for a normal dude, you know that?”

Mal smiled shortly as if she complimented him.

“I’m not a normal dude though, am I?”

He started the car quickly and drove out into the street. Mal usually refused to get behind the wheel if Y/N was willing to drive. He even whined a little about having to drive when she got too drunk to do it. Now, he looked as if he’s been the most experienced driver. The wheel was calm and obedient under his hand, and it felt like betrayal, too. Like she didn’t know him at all. Y/N looked at him, the side of his face, the upturned nose and focused eyes, and thought that it wouldn’t surprise her if his whole personality was a lie, too.

“What’s happening with the town? Are the guys alright?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he frowned childishly, his eyebrows gathering together. “I just don’t want you to be there when it comes down, obviously. The FBI guys have returned, apparently, and they’re determined that Damon has killed everybody… which I fully support”.

“You know damn well he hasn’t killed anybody”, Y/N bumped her fist into his shoulder and he didn’t budge.

“How do you know? You’re so brainwashed by him”, Mal threw.

“That’s far from truth”, she muttered, checking the pockets of her pants. As he was dragging her out of the room, she was still holding her phone in her hand. Millennials, am I right?

“Where’s the damn phone”, she said to herself, frustrated. Mal drove out into the main street and sped up, clearly wanting to get out of the town soon. She put both her hands into her pockets and checked the seat.

“Where’s my phone, Mal?”

“I have it”, he tapped himself on the chest pocket of his jean jacket. Y/N blinked with one eye; it was more like a twitch.

“Give it back”.

She realized he had slipped his hand into her pants while they were walking down the stairs.

“To do what?”

“Give it back, you tricky bastard”, she leaned over and grabbed him by the hand free of the wheel.

“Whoa! Calm down, psycho”, Mal grinned and pushed her back gently. “What do you need it for? It’s the middle of the night, everybody’s asleep”.

“I need to call Elena to make sure she’s alright! Do they even know the FBI… whatever they are, are in town?”

“Of course. I learnt it from them”, Mal said shortly. They were now straight on the highway leading out of Mystic Falls. The town is that small. A couple of streets, weaving inside like spider guts, a park, a square, and that’s it. A little place to live, really. It closes your mind, clogs your imagination. One can easily go crazy here.

“I was at the Craze, then the blonde slow vamp, Carrie, runs in, and her eyes are like, this big, and she says the tol and the smol are back. And I’m like, so what? And she’s like, they’re onto Dean! And I’m like, good for them, you know? Carrie is all flustered. But he’s our friend, and he didn’t kill anybody… while he totally did”, Mal shrugged. Y/N closed her eyes, irritated at his intentional name mess. He has established his dominance enough times already. There’s no need to purposefully diminish them every time, to remind her he doesn’t feel too psyched about the gang.

“And I was all, hm, there might be confrontation, so how about I take you away, yeah? It’s their own problems, let them deal with the feds themselves”, his face lit up a little, “they’re big vampires now after all”.

“I’m involved in that as well”, Y/N hissed, “you know? One of the vampires, before they all died at Craze, refused to bite me, which is a nonsense for a young vampire”.

“Oh”, he frowned a little, “then it’s all the better to take a break, right?”

She hit the back of the seat hard, looking at the dark ribbon of the road lying ahead. Her bare feet were rubbing against each other. Mal started fidgeting with the audio system and actually had the audacity to take out her phone from his pocket to connect it to the player.

“Unblock it”, he said, and it sounded more like an order. She rolled her eyes and, as he handed the phone to her, tried to grab it away from the guy. His fingers were worse than ironlike clutch of death.

“Hey, don’t be funny. Listen, I don’t mean anything to happen to you, okay? I’m just taking precautions”.

There was the familiar rectangular dark shape which was the sign with the name of the town. As the music hit the car, Mal stretched his neck a little, tilting his head from side to side, and she felt a strong desire to make him open up. She just wanted him to trust her enough to tell all. To not play anymore. It’s not that she’ll run, because there’s something wrong with him. She just needs to know to own him completely. Maybe it was crazy, too early for commitment like that, but her flaring nostrils told her she’s cooked enough.

There were cars on both sides of the road, but she couldn’t make them out properly as her own car sped past them. She turned her head back and caught the glimpse of people starting to gather on the road behind them, as if they had been expecting her car to pass, to close the way. One car moved forward and stopped right in the middle, blocking the way out of Mystic Falls.

She looked at Mal, wishing to hell he glances back, and she got severely disappointed, because when he did, there wasn’t a shred of sympathy for her distress. Her gut feeling got much worse though. It looked like a trick now, less like him acting on impulse. Mal understood it, seemingly. He shrugged off his playfulness and was completely serious now.

“I lied to you once”, he said.

I’m not myself

I’m not myself when you’re around, no

Can’t be helped,

the song chanted. He spoke calmly, his head swaying a little as if his neck was a light balloon string.

“I did steal your chain. I wanted to have a part of you with me at all times. Take it”, he lifted his elbow and opened his chest pocket. “Don’t fucking touch your phone”.

Y/N felt her whole body tense, the freeze so deep her skull got stung for a second, like she all turned into a stone.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll break your arm”, he said.

She kept looking at his absent stare he was radiating onto the road. It’s like he wasn’t watching where he was driving at all, like he was inside somewhere. That’s a powerful stunt, demanding something from a person without even looking at them. She put out her hand out of curiosity and slid her fingers into his pocket. It was warm on the inside, the heat was coming from his body. Very normal human heat. Something stopped her, either the fear of pain, or the fear that this pain will be inflicted by Mal. Her fingers brushed over the lukewarm smooth screen of her phone, and she felt the pricky chain of her necklace. She pulled it out, and looked at it, mesmerized. Mal finally glanced at her.

“Was Martha Hopps ever your girlfriend?” she asked.

“No”, she shook his head, “I wouldn’t do you like that”.

Y/N looked back again and clutched her necklace in her fist. Her other hand crawled to the handle of the door. Mal was speeding no less than fifty miles on the highway. She pulled the handle and pushed the door with her shoulder, grouping and closing her eyes. The song was filling the interior of her car. It was called ‘halfway dead to me’ and now she thought, right before throwing herself on the road and potentially killing herself, that even the music they listened to together should have communicated some message she’s missed.

It happened very quickly, as the door flew open, and the wind brushed over her violently; the sound of the highway being eaten by the wheels of the car. The dark sky, a starless back dome above; she was almost out, in the air, when his hand grabbed her by her neck and pulled back into the car so hard she collided with Mal and hit her thigh. The door of the car closed by itself with a bash and the music blasted her head like a baseball bat. Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her jaws together to withstand the pain. When it let go, she moved herself in the seat and shook her head.

“You could’ve killed yourself!” he yelled, sincerely frustrated. The car swayed as he returned both hands to the wheel. She has never seen him scared before, and it baffled her. Mal gave her a wide-eyed stare. “What is happening inside your goofy head?!”

“You’re not human!” she cried in return.

“Duh!”

She punched his shoulder once again to see that he doesn’t mind the mild pain. He barely noticed.

“You’re a vampire”.

Mal sniffed with displeasure.

“You only pulled this to test me? What if I hadn’t caught you?!”

“But that’s… that doesn’t make any sense. You walk in the sun and you eat all the time, and… others didn’t smell you”, she was still panting from the jump. Her neck ached from the stiff clutch he performed on her. In fact, Mal grabbed her so hard it felt like he was about to tear her head off completely. She rubbed her throat and the back of her neck with both hands.

“And you entered my house, without an invitation”, she finished. Mal sighed, turning the music down a little. She was still very aware of the songs that were playing. They always listened to this one playlist, which she had no memories of compiling. The title, the combination of the songs, the cover was inexplicable to her. These six months were so frustrating even this screaming oddness felt more like it was meant to be. Now she realized it was the only playlist she ever heard Mal play. And the fact that it was titled ‘douche’…

“That’s because I’ve already been there before”, he said, nonchalantly. He didn’t need to say it, she already knew.

“Malivore is in Georgia, huh”, she said. Diving deep into the seat, she looked on the path they were traveling again. Finally realizing is so liberating it’s hard to describe. For a moment, it felt like the car was completely silent.

The whole attraction thing, Mal knowing ways to get to her, the music, the movies, the manners… the mutual trust which is virtually impossible among people like him… the nights and days she felt lost, when she felt like there was a piece of her brain missing and the gaping hole whistling in the wind. The pink sky reminding her of something it couldn’t utter in human language, and the sucking, sad, tragic tunnel pulsating in her guts – all this meant she was broken over losing somebody at the shore of the sea of oblivion.

“You know how you had that strange feeling you missed somebody? And thought it was Matt?” he said with disgust. Y/N had no energy to say anything, crashed down by the powerful feeling of loss once again, all coming down at once, like she was pulled away right from her skeleton. She was looking at this stranger sitting next to her, trying to fit him into the frame of the new found truth, and he didn’t match. And that was the part of it.

She finally knew who she’s been crying about those weeks, when she would collapse on the floor of her room suddenly, startled by the outburst, confused by even why the tears are coming. The long nights she spent agonizing, - and she’d never told anyone, not even Elena – over something, crouched under the cover, seized by terror, like something was impaling her – now she knew why. Her chest got hard and narrow, and she put the hand to her throat.

“You’re the guy he threw into the Malivore”, she finally said. Mal nodded. The world was tearing apart; she could see the tear line up above, so clearly. It was fucking crumbling down in pieces. Only Damon – only that bastard could ever think of that. Of throwing someone into oblivion to erase them completely.

She might have whimpered, because Mal slowed the car down, concern on his face, and they stopped in the middle of the road. The night highway was empty and hollow, and when she left the car, almost crawling out, she noticed there were stars after all. Just very far away. Unreachable.

She felt the light movement of air on her cheek that was burning up, like the rest of her body. The road was long, leading away into the dark patch of space where the street lightning failed and gave in. The fields were quiet around them, night fog falling slowly to wrap them in its deadly embrace. The wind cried, get inside! Be safe! But the blue twilight of the forest in the distance felt like a mount of doom approaching. You couldn’t hide from it in the car. She couldn’t figure out now why she was crying. She felt so robbed; she felt like somebody had the audacity to come and tear her heart out, and now, the worst thing, she couldn’t feel anything because it was the heart she lacked. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to Mal. A cautious look thrown at him found him on the other side of the hood, watching her carefully. It was as if he was afraid to approach. Maybe he thought she was too delicate, or was actually afraid.

“How…” she tried her voice, and it let her down. Only whisper came out. “How did you get out?”

Mal circled the car slowly, without hurry. There were no more sounds, just the music from the car, and his steps. Mal touched her shoulders and made her focus on him, shooting right into her eyes. He was being very dramatic.

“I crawled back to you. Wouldn’t even be the first time. Remember how I got out of hell?”

In a second only she realized that there’s a smirk crooking his dirty mouth. He enjoyed his little joke.

“Oh, of course you don’t. Sorry”.

Her hands grabbed on Mal’s elbows and she pressed herself into his chest. It’s fucked up how memories are nothing. How not having the essential information makes you lose your head as you try to understand why you trust a person you don’t know so much; why you intuitively know he’ll do no harm to you; how you’re attracted to him. His smell was familiar now, almost vital. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and felt a heavy sigh that left his body. Mal hugged her back, putting his chin on the top of her head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you. I’ll show you everything, I know how. I have so much to tell you… honey”.

All those days, and she cried in vain. And now she knew what she cried for. And that is so unfair her throat is about to burst with rage. Only Damon…

“I’m going to kill him”, she said gravely, all of a sudden. She could hear his heart now, too. Beating like there’s no special vampire force in it. Mal sighed again.

“It was their collective decision”.

She stepped back to look him in the face.

“What?”

“They were all on it”, he repeated. It was hard to hide the joy in his voice, like he was bringing good news. She knew now how to filter it. She knew he can’t control it.

“Even Elena?”

He rolled his eyes a little.

“Even Elena”.

Mal pulled her on the elbow gently as she started crying again.

“I’ll fix everything, I promise. Hey, they’re paying for it right now”.

With a shaking hand, she clutched his, and squeezed it.

“Mal, please… please, don’t…”

His face went hard.

“I don’t get it. Do you want to punish them or not?”

She moaned. She was holding on to his hand because the knees almost gave in. She could literally feel sanity leaving her, from the little hole in her temple. She was going mad.

“Mal…”

“It’s Kai by the way”, he added, harshly. “Kai Parker. Look at me. You know, this is what I never really understood. You’re so clearly upset, and it makes me very happy… I mean, like, not in a way that I like to see you hurt, but… well, you get it. But you still want to protect them? You were never able to make the choice, you know?”

Seeing that she is not able to object, he went on.

“Quite honestly, that’s hurtful. You know, after everything I’ve been through… you know, you have been the only person ever that didn’t hate me outright. You know? I always thought that maybe you will be the first person who chooses me over everybody else. Is that a lot to ask? I don’t know. Is it? Do you know that I spent more time searching and fighting for you since we met than actually being with you?”

“Mal, you’re hurting me”.

“It’s Kai. I am Kai. You call me Kai, because it’s my name”, he snapped, “it’s the only fucking thing I still have left. And you know who’s to blame for it? Your friends. The bunch of…” he sucked the air through his teeth. His hands were doing the opposite of what he was saying, holding her, rubbing her shoulders so that she doesn’t get cold. Maybe he held her too tightly. She yelped a little with pain, and he almost let go. Pressing his forehead close to hers, he whispered,

“This time I have made that choice for you, okay? Clearly, you need my help. I will never leave you, baby, never. You will be with me forever now, okay? Don’t worry. We’re not drifting away anymore, I won’t let it happen ever again”.

She shivered. As they kissed, she wasn’t sure who’s kissing whom. She knew she wanted it, and at the same time, in her mind, the sirens were going off, wailing like the apocalypse was banging on the walls of her consciousness. She was almost sure she knew what was happening in Mystic Falls.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #tvd imagine #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries #legacies #whitmore guy

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bitnotgood28 · 4 years

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Thank you @hometothecanyonmoon for tagging me!!

1) When did you become a Louie?

Embarrassingly late. I’d say around mid-April 2020, since that’s around the time I learned about Larry and joined the 1D fandom. I focused mostly on Louis and Harry and whatever they got up to, so during that I just noticed little quirks and started to pick up on their personalities. Harry is sweet and dorky and I adore him, but I love Louis’ wit and his sarcasm and his compassion, basically his character in general. Afterwards, I learned that Louis has recently released LT1, so I downloaded the entire album to give it a listen and have not stopped listening since. His whole album is a blessing, all of his music is so meaningful and touching; you’ve heard his songs and lyrics, yeah?

2) Why did you become a Louie?

Multiple reasons, the two main ones being his music and his personality. I’m not greatly interested in the type of music that’s mostly being released at present (no offense meant), and Louis’ voice is just incredibly unique, something I really like in artists. Everything that he’s written has been sincere and expressive, like a touch of rawness in them, especially when he sings. There’s just so much emotion behind every word and note, and his voice!! It has the sweetest rasp to it and his voice has gotten stronger and more powerful over the years, yet it can still be soft and light like during the bridge in Defenceless. He is also such a sweetheart, treating everyone kindly and with understanding unless he thinks they’re undeserving of it. The way he socialize with children and animals makes my heart melt, he looks so happy and excited during those interactions with his crinkling eyes and his smile-goodness, he is truly God’s gift.

3) One thing that drew you in specifically?

Easily his charisma and satire. His humor and jokes always stood out to me during interviews, his quips are just hilarious, that sweet boy. He draws attention to himself and leaves an imprint on you, and you get attached to him and his personality and his cheekbones-essentially his entire being. I was also kind of irritated with the amount of lines he and Niall were given compared to the other boys, so I paid more mind to the two of them (along with Harry) at the beginning. I think it’s also because I tend to notice those who aren’t as noticed or not quite under the spotlight-is that they proper description? Anyway, between Louis and Niall I wound up taking more of a liking to Louis with his sass and his cheek and his eyelashes. Man, is he even real? He’s so sweet and genuine, he’s endured so much and has continued to stand strong after each blow; it’s as heartbreaking as it’s inspiring. I just want to wrap him in a blanket and take him far away from all the cruelty present in the world, maybe feed him some tacos and stroke his hair until he falls asleep. He can still joke around and enjoy life while also doing his job and doing it brilliantly, might I add. I feel like he’d be a wonderful best friend to have, empathetic and supportive, someone you’d be able to stir up chaos with but also who’d keep your moral compass pointing in the right direction. Honestly, I’m quite certain that God created him with the thought of sunshine and sunflowers in His head.

4) Favorite song on Walls?

Oo, that’s difficult. I love Always You, its tempo and it’s tune are just really lively and upbeat. I’ve also got a special place in my heart for the lyrics of Fearless (God, that second verse and chorus and first verse - the whole song), Defenceless (“I come running to you like a moth into a flame,”? “I’m too tired to be tough, just wanna be loved by you,”???), Only For the Brave (“It’s a church of burnt romances and I’m too far gone to pray,” “All the lonely shadow dances from the cradle to the grave,” this song is so lyrically poetic and I love every second of it), and Two of Us (the bridge.. God it’s so melancholy yet somewhat hopeful[?]). Kill My Mind also has this great indie rock sound to it, I’d gladly listen to it for hours. I.. am realizing that this absolutely does not answer the question, but I hope you now understand how good Louis’ songs are and how much I love them <333

5) Who would you want Louis to collab with?

Okay, I took a bit of time on this and I think one would be Alessia Cara. I’d really like to hear how they would sound together, considering how unique and distinctive both of their voices are individually, and how the music they produced would mesh with each other. Another would probably be Ed Sheeran, lyrically I think they’d be quite powerful like Louis and Alessia, but I’m not sure how they’d sound as a unit. It’d be interesting to hear though, I’m sure. Last is Harry, and if you’ve heard edits and that duet in the chorus of Truly, Madly, Deeply, you know what I’m talking about and you know how good they sound together.

6) Favorite Hairstyle?

Peaky blinders is one, he looked like a sweet little hedgehog during that time. Cinnamon swirl is also high on the list. He looked like actual royalty (I mean when doesn’t he, but this is god tier princely) and everything was right in the world. He was just- the living embodiment of delicate. His messy quiff and messy fringe back in 2013-2014 were just.. so attractive? Those hairstyles also make me miss seeing his full face :((

7) Back to You, Just Hold On, or Miss You?

(where is the Just Like You option)

I love the lyrics and meaning behind Just Hold On, it’s all really hopeful and motivating. The whole song was really well done, Louis and Steve Aoki did such a good job. Miss You also has a great sound to it, and you can really hear his accent throughout the whole song (fook, luv, anova, need I go on). I also love the bit of violin (I think it’s a violin) they added in the second pre-chorus and final chorus? It adds kind of like a lighter factor to the heavy guitar and drums already present in the song, and some sort of assurance that everything will be okay (I’m bad at describing things I’m sorry akdjsjdj). Back to You, God the notes they hit during that song.. beautiful (“We don’t know how to make it stop,” and “I love it, I hate it and I can’t take it,”). Can I also just say that Louis and Bebe both looked really, really attractive during that music video? Like damn please hold back on the extra chili, it’s already hot in here.

8) Louis in suits or sweaters?

Louis in suits is just.. all his assets (ha) are accentuated and he looks so sharp and beautiful, his shoulders just a bit broader, and his curves more defined. Then when he wears blue suits, his eyes are just that much more blue. Louis in sweaters, on the other hand: sunflowers incarnate, sunshine and kittens, a soft heated blanket with socked feet and a fireplace while snow falls softly outside the window. He looks so, so warm and huggable and sweet with his sweater paws- imagine being his friend and being able to cuddle him? Just snuggle and chat about what he’s got prepared for LT2, maybe watch a horror movie. God truly has His favorites. In conclusion: Louis in sweaters.

9) Favorite tattoo?

I think the compass was really well made, like the shading and the contours make it look almost lifelike. Then it points to HOME, which I think is so sweet and personal, like he already knows what ‘home’ is to him and he’s sure that that’s where he’d want to go back to, every time without a doubt. I also like the “It Is What It Is” tattoo, it’s written elegantly, kind of like a Ballantines font and it’s definitely an eye-catcher, displayed on his chest. The stag one also isn’t bad, its right eye is just a bit more bugged out than the other. It makes it a lil more special though, it’s easily identifiable as Louis’ tattoo because of that and the antlers are sort of majestic.

10) Favorite Louis photo (currently)?

I am going to pretend I read that as ‘photos’ because I am an indecisive little shit :))

(HELLOOOO HE LOOK LIKE THE SWEETEST HEDGEHOG // He is just- in his element, he is living up there)

(He makes the tousled hair look so good what the hell // Does this need elaboration, I mean, his smile literally powers everything on earth, and the crinkles by his eyes, and his sweater, and his lil canines, and-)

(Please God he is. Ethereal. Stunning. Perfect. In both photos, his eyes are just. Bright. And the cinnamon swirl, I- I’ve ascended to a higher plane of existence. He’s just so beautiful. Gorgeous really.)

11) Random extra?

When one is given the opportunity to express their love for Louis Tomlinson’s accent, one must accept.

His accent is like. Familiar, a bit like home (no, I’m not English), and I love that he’s been able to keep it even after years of living abroad. He has one of those accents where you can tell it’s present even when he sings, and when he uses endearments, God, it’s just so charming and sweet. It’s also really strong and distinctive, you can tell who he is by the first syllable or word he says. It’s a part of who he is and I love it so much and I love him so much, Jesus Christ akjskjd

I had fun being able to talk about Louis in this, there’s so much to him and every bit of it is another ray of sunshine <333

I tag @adorelou-28, @makethebestofwhatyouget, @28-oops-hi, and anyone else who wants to do this, no compulsions :))

#thank you Rae!!#i swear its been weeks since ive been tagged to do this and i am so sorry aldjakdjjd #tag games

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itsybitsylemonsqueezy · 4 years

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So I finished watching Yakuza 7: Like A Dragon. Spoilers under the cut.

(Mainly positive take, some criticisms. C+/B I’d give it.)

So, first of all, I didn’t play it, I just watched people on youtube so my perspective of gameplay should be taken with a grain of salt. But I really liked the turn taking fighting style! Like a real JRPG, I thought it was fun, it seemed fun anyway, and the strategies to JRPG make more intuitive sense to me than fighting games, which I don’t know at all. I did end up missing the hand-to-hand combat like... aesthetically and it kinda breaks universe rules a little. But, like, Ichiban seeing combat as a sort of heightened fantasy reality actually helps with that and the plot still treats us like average combatants. Like, there’s still no murder, despite a lot more weapon use, including guns. So... it’s a little sad and weird universe-wise, but seems fun to play.

Ichiban is a great protag! Definitely not Kiryu! He has two dads, like 8 spouses, a lot of hair... He’s only 7 years younger than Kiryu and that’s... that’s a choice ^^; But he’s got a lot of good things going for him and I like his build. Interesting rage-grief he has going and a thing about revenge that Kiryu never had. And I like that actually, I like that Ichiban gets hit with different things than Kiryu did, but he still has flaws. Kiryu was never blind with rage the way Ichi got, but then, Kiryu also didn’t save his brother. Like, they have VERY different shit going on, which is GOOD. So I’m kinda annoyed that in the end we took Ichi’s dad and brother, just like Kiryu’s? Like... damn :/ Lame. Lazy.

I love Ichi’s team! I love Adachi, Nanba, Saeko, Joon-gi, Zhao. Top notch peeps! I like that they all just like him and are here for a fun adventure with him. They’re all here for something different, which is also really cool. Zhao is sort of redefining who he is in... retirement I guess? Trying out being a companion rather than a leader. Saeko is longing for family, connection, a place to belong. Adachi was here to accomplish a goal, to restore his honor and provide justice. And Ichi’s been a big help to that. Joon-gi is... a whore. I’m sorry! He’s just this beautiful, obedient man who’s just here on lend and he does whatever the fuck you say. Do not put him in charge of decisions, he’s terrible at them, but he knows a lot and has a vast network. But he appears just to be here to serve everyone’s needs, so to speak, and to moon after Ichiban like everyone else. And Nanba. Nanba hates adventures. He hates germs. He hates people and friends and danger and doing things. But he’s here. Because Ichi makes him hate things a little less. Nanba is a cynical, cowardly bastard, and Ichi’s a fucking sunshiney idiot always trying to fix shit that isn’t his problem. And he makes Nanba get up and fight. He makes Nanba believe in tomorrow. Nanba doesn’t trust people, Nanba doesn’t hope. He’s a pessimist and lives only to complain. But he is first in line to get shot for Ichiban every fucking time. He’s always the first to Ichiban’s side when he’s in trouble. Leaving and betraying Ichiban broke his fucking heart and my ship is probably showing A LOT here but I don’t care. I fucking love Nanba, I love his arc, I did NOT see it coming. And they are definitely my ship out of this. The fact that Nanba without fail is always the first to put himself in danger for Ichiban guts me. With how much he doesn’t believe in good things ever happening, it destroys me that he’ll dare it all for Ichiban. Fucking wild.

I thought it was cool to bring up a political villain, but... we didn’t really carry through on Bleach Japan’s thematic importance. We revealed them to be cruel and hypocritical, but we didn’t end up actually saving the slums or proving why the slums needed to be saved and that’s... kinda lame :/

I was really hoping that we might make a stand on why grey spaces were needed, on why organizations like the yakuza are needed but instead we... disbanded? And I don’t even know why?

Like, it was to fuck over Ryo Aoki. But... he was a TEMPORARY problem. All you had to do was move the organizations underground until he was unseated, which the Tojo already was???

But instead... we brought down Tojo and Omi and... WHY?! Like, SERIOUSLY, can ANYONE tell me WHY! Because I have a LOT OF FEELINGS about why that’s a BAD CALL.

What are all those guys going to do now? “Oh, we’ll just make a security company” YOU’LL WHAT?! THOUSANDS of guys used to shake downs will now be hired to patrol rich estates and cover banks and business buildings?! Fighting WHO, themselves?! A LOT of that job is just watching some fucking cameras, what... what the fuck are you talking about Watase?!

But I guess that’s still better than Daigo’s “I have no fucking idea” plan

NO WONDER Majima’s depressed at that funeral you JUST TOLD HIM his new job is BABYSITTING SOME RICH FUCK’S BUILDING. Fuck you guys!

And HAVE WE LEARNED NOTHING ABOUT POWER VACUUMS?! CRIME doesn’t disappear just because there’s no one there to manage it! That just means it gets worse! And rasher, crueler people grab power in the interim. Smaller but rougher groups will appear. More and worse crimes will happen now. You just disenfranchised thousands, not all of them are going to come with you to play security detail and not all of them WANT to. So why EXACTLY did we disband the yakuza? What problems did that solve???

What about all that shit about the yakuza being a home for people who didn’t fit in? What about people who fell through the cracks in the system, who don’t have anywhere else to go?

If the yakuza, as an idea, was so fucking bad, WHAT WERE THE LAST SIX GAMES ABOUT?!

You can’t have an established series that accepts the idea that crime and violence are sometimes necessary or are even good things and have a compelling protag who does that, ONLY to turn around at the last second and pretend like it was always wrong!

If you were gonna act like the idea of organized crime is a Bad Thing, THEN THAT NEEDED TO BE A CONFLICT FROM THE BEGINNING

But you didn’t even do that!

We DIDN’T disband the yakuza because organized crime is inherently morally corrupt, no we disbanded because some prick thought he could use us! A PRICK WHO IS NOW DEAD! THE FUCK?!

And DON’T GET ME STARTED on how this reframes Kiryu’s narrative. KIRYU WASN’T RIGHT FOR LEAVING YOU FUCKING BASTARDS.

THE WHOLE POINT OF KIRYU’S ARC WAS THAT HE WAS FUCKING WRONG TO ABANDON HIS RELATIONSHIPS I- *screams into pillow*

AND why does Kiryu need to be dead now?! There is no more yakuza! Who does he need to hide from?!

OH no wait, my mistake! We didn’t disband ALL the yakuza, just Omi and Tojo! You know, the two biggest cities in Japan. I’m sure THAT won’t have Fucking Consequences. But Kiryu still has to be dead for uh... Reasons.

This was just such a fucking dumb universe-building move. It’s not been thought through, it betrays the whole point of the franchise up until now, and I’m honestly just mad that they didn’t even feel the need to address it? Like, the yakuza’s just gone now, but it’s whatever. Who would even care about that. Like, that’s not going to be a plot point next game. It won’t matter, at all, I promise you. All of the in-universe implications this has, none of it matters. And I’m not even mad I’m just... tired. And annoyed a little. that you can’t be bothered to tie up your own rules. You won’t give your own writing decisions weight and that’s just... kinda sad. It’s just lazy and sad that they don’t care enough to connect the pieces. But I’ve had my heart broken enough by yakuza writing decisions. Of course they would do this, of course they haven’t thought enough about their own series to really consider what ending the yakuza would mean. Why would they?

I’ll still watch the next game. Like, Ichiban is likeable enough and I’m interested in his arc enough that I’d play or watch next time. But... *sigh* We’re the Yakuza series with no yakuza. And y’all gonna act like that’s a good thing or pretend it doesn’t even matter. And I really don’t know what to do with that since you haven’t bothered to examine it either.

On a nice Kiryu note, I did like that he was scaled appropriately, I like that Ichiban is Wiped Out after almost every fight. He’s a good fighter, but he has human endurance. Kiryu’s still god. He hits the hardest out of anyone you fight and you Don’t win and that’s As It Should Be. I’m REALLY glad they at least let me have that. I’m glad they let us fight Kiryu and we passed and it was a cool passing of the torch. I was so worried they were going to destroy Kiryu’s legacy and at least they didn’t do that.

The coin locker baby thing... it was cliche and convenient, but in the way that Yakuza is cliche and convenient and melodramatic and over the top. It was sort of fitting and familiar that way. Shame we ended Swashiro like that, I think we could have done more and cooler shit with him but, eh.

SPEAKING OF MORE AND COOLER SHIT

...all that effort, just to kill him? Alllllll that long time, that hard conversation, that break down with Ichiban... just to kill him. Just to make him Nishiki, all over again.

I... fuck you.

Why do you refuse to write a goddamn redemption arc

Fuck, you don’t even have to write it, have it happen off-screen if you’re so fucking afraid of it. Just have him recuperate in a goddamn hospital and, I don’t know, by next game just show that he’s doing better and is getting therapy and whatever.

Jesus fucking christ, he doesn’t have to MATTER in the next game just... don’t kill him. Jesus. Please.

All that fucking work and you’re STILL going to give Ichiban the trauma of losing someone he was trying to save.

I just... it’s really gutting how much you don’t like your characters and you don’t like to write and you’re cowards. You won’t take risks. You’re too afraid of fucking up so you won’t do what the narrative calls for.

Killing Masato was lazy-ass, punk-ass, coward shit and I wont’ stand for it. I did not expect to care about his ass by the end but you guys REALLY made an effort in making him a three dimensional character there at the end and explaining why Ichi would care about him and I was willing to come with you! I was willing for us to invest in this dumbass. We walk him all the way up to the edge and step him back. We let him let go. And then you just. fucking. gave up. You goddamn cowards.

I’m so tired of this shit

For all that, it was genuinely a really fun game and a really fun story with a lot of likeable characters. I think a solid C+, even a B. I really did enjoy most of it. It’s just... in usual Yakuza style, they only fucked up 2 things but they were a REALLY IMPORTANT 2 things.

Oh and I did like the fact that Ichiban Still Doesn’t Know. No one tell him.

#Yakuza 7 #Yakuza: Like A Dragon #It's always a mixed bag with RGG Studios #At least Kiryu was pretty nice #Y7 spoilers

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seiin-translations · 3 years

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2.43 S1 Epilogue 2 - To Connect

2. A KNIGHT & SLEEPING BEAUTY

Ibara’s back, baby~~

Also, Kanno’s such a simp

Previous || Index || Next

When he was about to board the train, he saw Kuroba jumping over the ticket gate, so he left half of his body on the platform side and waited. The doors, which were about to close, squeezed his enamel bag on his back and then opened again. Noticing that, Kuroba bowed to him and then went to the train car at the other end (there were only two cars, so they were both end cars). After seeing that, Kanno slipped into his car as well. He sat down in the seat by the doors on the other side.

Suemori-san, who was sitting in the seat by the door across from him, was looking at him, and he unconsciously flinched.

“Good morning.”

When Suemori-san said that to him with a neutral expression, Kanno mumbled, “G-Good morning.”

It’s not that I got onto the same car on purpose, it’s just that there’s a 50/50 chance we’ll end up in the same car, so it’s not creepy, he explained in his mind.

“Wanna sit?”

Suemori-san and put her enamel bag next to her down on the floor to make room for him. “Pardon me,” he said, abashed, and sat down next to her, also putting his bag at his feet. Since it was a two-person seat, they could only leave a space of one or two fists between them at most, and one side of his body felt strangely ticklish from nervousness.

Kuroba showed his face at the window of the door connecting the two cars. He looked like he was going to move over here, but as soon as he saw Suemori-san, he made an “Ah” face and withdrew, never to appear again.

“You have morning practice today? The boys never had morning practice before.”

“Ah, yes. Since we don’t have much time, we’re doing morning practice every day until the Spring Tournament starting today.”

Unlike the girls’ team, the boys’ team never practiced in the morning due to the policy of the old advisor. Everyone on the team thought that it was because he hated waking up early, despite being elderly… But it seemed that the strongest private schools didn’t have morning practice. An interview in a volleyball magazine said that they taught their players to get a good night’s sleep and to eat a proper breakfast.

Anyway, the situation was such that they couldn’t say that. Captain Oda lobbied for permission to hold morning practice for the Spring Tournament preliminaries.

“I really wondered what was going to happen for a time. But anyways, I’m glad.”

Suemori-san let out a rough sigh. When she asked about the club activities suspension punishment, she got indignant, as though she was one of the people concerned. He managed to calm her down, as she seemed to be on the verge of going to Kuroba’s house to yell at him. If she challenged the Kuroba family, Suemori-san’s family might not be able to live in Monshiro anymore.

“I’m sorry for causing you to worry so much…”

“I feel kind of stupid, being the angriest even though I’m an outsider. That’s what pisses me off the most. How can you be so calm?”

“It’s not that we weren’t angry…but, I guess it was because of Aoki-senpai. He was so angry that there was no way he wasn’t going to do something about it. We were convinced that for Oda-senpai, he was going to manage something before the Spring Tournament, using whatever means necessary.”

It was agreed between the second-years that they would keep their physical strength up and play with the ball everyday. They also took the opportunity to level up Okuma, as not much time had passed since he switched to volleyball. Aoki-senpai was definitely working behind the scenes. It wasn’t going to end like this. That was why their year was trying to make sure they could go full throttle as soon as the summons came.

Before he knew it, he realized that Suemori-san’s eyes were staring at him fixedly for some reason.

“Did, did I say…something weird?”

When he asked that, feeling her face tense and slightly pulled himself back, Suemori-san’s mouth tapered to a point.

“Not really. I just thought that you really are a member of the boys’ team. Only you guys could resolve yourselves so coolly, and even though it’s not like I don’t have attachments to the boys’ team since I helped you guys out at the ballgame tournament, they didn’t tell me anything about this. That’s what I thought.”

“I-I’m sorry. The girls are always practicing, and you seem to be busy with your own things…”

As soon as the June ballgame tournament was over, they had almost nothing to talk about, and Kanno was dejected. Even now, Okuma was still talking about how she should be the manager for the boys’ team if she wasn’t a regular for the girls. He thought that if Suemori-san was their manager, then that would be a dreamlike environment, of course, to have her shout encouragement to everyone during practice, and to be able to wear matching team jerseys on tournament days.

But after the ballgame tournament, Suemori-san seemed to be really busy for the girls’ team.

“You’re even taking on a lot of chores, right? There are a lot of first-year girls, so you don’t have to do them…”

He was impressed by the fact that she never stood still during club activities, but ran around shouting. Not only did she take the initiative to take care of the chores that the first-years and the managers had to do, but she also unfailingly cooperated with the practices that had the goal of strengthening the regular members.

“You’ve been watching me closely, huh...”

Suemori-san smiled wryly and turned her gaze to the window facing her. While squinting her eyes that were dazzled by the light, she began to speak in a slightly stiff voice, suppressing her emotions.

“I’m glad I was able to help the boys for the ballgame tournament. I realized how important it was to support a team behind the scenes, and how much work it is. I think there was a part of me that thought that only the people who were standing on the court were needed in the club… Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving up on becoming a regular. I’m in the middle of gaining experience from scratch.”

Suemori-san clenched her white fist on top of her lap. Her legs, which were long for a girl and slender, were stepping firmly on the floor, straddling the enamel bag she had used for years since middle school.

“Once you let go of something, it might be much harder to get it back than at first. I might not make it in time before I graduate. But I learned…that no matter how many times I’m betrayed by it, it’s something I can never get rid of… In order to get the volleyball where everyone thinks of me as the coolest, I’m struggling uselessly, even though I’m not cool right now.”

“Y-You’re not uncool, not at all. That’s really cool.”

He unconsciously leaned towards her and said that. Suemori-san was so surprised that she pulled back a little and hit the back of her head on the railing with an “Ouch!” Kanno also returned to his senses with an “Ah…” and drew his head back, hitting the back of his head the moment he did that.

Suemori-san’s cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment.

“…Thanks.”

She said, smiling broadly. He had never seen such a relaxed expression on Suemori-san’s face before. The soft smile that drifted gently on her face, which had a tense impression without any sweetness, was more “beautiful” than “cool.” He thought at that moment, Ah, she’s a very beautiful person.

He didn’t feel like calling her “Ibara-chan” anymore. At this moment, “Suemori-san” became “Suemori-san” quite naturally in Kanno. It wasn’t the same as saying he distanced himself from her. It’s not that, I want to protect this beautiful and gallant person—When she was “Ibara-chan,” she was the knight who protected me, but now I’m going to be her faithful knight—that was what he thought.

“There was one more thing I let go of, though. If I started building that up from scratch as well, maybe I’ll get it in my hands one day. If I can be forgiven, can I try to get it back…?”

“Mmm. You’ll definitely get it, Suemori-san,” he nodded vigorously, and then blinked. “…Huh? Get what?” “Hmm, I wonder?” My supreme princess only tilted her head and giggled, but didn’t tell me. He had never seen such a playful expression on her face either until now, and he got flustered.

When the train arrived at Nanafu Station, they got up and shouldered their own bags.

“Well then.”

“Yeah…do your best, in everything.”

“You’re the one who has to do your best like crazy.”

“…Yes. I’ll do my best.”

Mmm, Suemori-san nodded and got off the train. After a moment of gazing admiringly at her figure from behind as she bravely cut into the platform filled with bright light, Kanno also pulled down the hood of his hoodie, tucked his hands into the long sleeves, and nimbly jumped down into the harsh world where the sunlight was beginning to shine strongly.

His body’s resistance to one condition was extremely weak. It seemed that the immunity of something in his blood didn’t work as well as it did in other people. There were many times he was stared at because of his appearance, but he didn’t feel self-conscious about it now.

He knew that he had something to contribute to his team. He took pride in the fact that he had a role he must fulfill. He was starting his engine in order to match the start of the two first-years anytime. He could feel the thin blood inside of him pumping up and flowing with vitality.

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#2.43 #2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43: Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club #2.43 translation #2.43 seiin high school boys volleyball team #2.43 seiin koukou danshi volley bu #2.43 book 1

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