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rainbowsalt0412 · 1 year

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Osamu Dazai And The Dark Era - Chapter 2

The rain came and went after that. Dazai had been running around trying to get information on Mimic, while I wandered around the city in search of clues. I felt as though something important was slipping through my fingers with each passing moment, but I couldn’t see what that something was. The more important it was, the less visible it became to me—especially when I lost it.

I’d spent even more time wondering. Why did Ango go missing? There was no longer any doubt that he was somehow connected to Mimic, but what that connection was remained a mystery. I still hadn’t been able to figure out why he lied about buying that watch. Like a pale zombie wandering alone through a bright, immaculate graveyard, I continued to roam Yokohama in pursuit of a nonexistent hope.

I had reached just one conclusion but hadn’t told a soul. It didn’t feel right. I was sure Dazai had come to the same conclusion himself, but he probably wasn’t telling anyone, either.

Disappearing at almost the same time Mimic appeared, lying about a business trip to create an alibi, the gun in the safe and the Mimic sniper who tried desperately to get it back—Ango Sakaguchi was a Mimic spy.

It would all make sense, then.

Mimic bought Ango to get inside knowledge on the Mafia.

I shook my head. There was no way that was right. If that were the case, then that meant Ango was a capable enough spy to have deceived even the likes of Dazai and the boss. He would put a government agent to shame. What would Mimic gain from sending such a skilled spy to infiltrate the Mafia?

“You look glum, Odasaku. What’s wrong? Constipated?” the restaurant owner called out to me.

“I’m just thinking. I’d avoid eating spicy food like curry if I were actually constipated.”

I was indeed eating curry over rice at a diner.

“Oh… Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, Odasaku, you don’t get mad when people ask that kinda stuff when you’re eating curry?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Should I?”

“Uh… I dunno.”

“Seriously?” I responded with a straight face.

“Just don’t push yourself too hard, Odasaku.”

I knew the restaurant owner pretty well. He was in his fifties with a stomach protruding so far that he probably couldn’t see his own toes when he stood upright. Some of his hair had checked out, and he had crow’s-feet from smiling so much. He always wore a yellow apron that fit him so well that I sometimes wondered if he was born in it.

I ate curry here around three times a week out of pure habit. Habits are peculiar. If I didn’t eat this curry for a few days, my mouth would dry up strangely, and I couldn’t focus. I’d seen more than my share of drug addicts in the underworld, so I couldn’t help but think this was how they felt every time they went through withdrawals.

“How’s the curry?”

“Same as always.”

The curry here was simple: vegetables boiled down to a buttery consistency, beef tendon sautéed with garlic, a light dashi stock. The ingredients were then cooked with a complex blend of spices and dumped on top of a large helping of white rice before being all mixed together. Toss in an egg and some sauce, and it was ready to be eaten.

My hunger fully sated, I helped myself to a cup of coffee as I basked in my own personal bliss.

That’s when I asked, “How are the kids?”

“Haven’t changed,” the owner replied while wiping a dinner plate with a cloth. “They’re practically a small gang. There’s only five of them, so they’re scraping by. But if there were five more, they’d probably be able to hold up the Japan Bank for International Cooperation. They’re on the second floor. Go say hello.”

I decided to go with his suggestion. The floor above the restaurant used to be an old conference space until it was remodeled for residential use. I climbed up the stairs. The concrete walls were pasted with stained wallpaper and had reinforcing rods sticking out here and there. When I reached the top, I saw two doors: one to the kids’ room and one to the stockroom. I chose the former.

“Yo. How’ve ya been?”

I greeted the kids, each one focused intently on passing time in various ways: reading picture books, drawing, throwing a soft, fist-sized ball against the wall, playing cat’s cradle. The youngest of the bunch was a four-year-old girl, and the oldest was a nine-year-old boy. Nobody looked up.

“You guys aren’t causing too much trouble for Pops, right? He’s ex- military, really tough. So if you guys complain too much, he’s gonna—”

I was teasing the kids when I noticed something: There were supposed to be five of them, but I saw only four. I sensed something move in the bunk bed on the right. I instantly dropped my hips, lowering my posture. A nimble figure leaped out from the shadows on the bed—the fifth kid. I ducked my head and dodged him.

However, he was just a decoy. The little girl, who had been drawing, latched on to my right leg as I was caught off-balance. This was their plan from the start. I lifted my one free leg to step forward in preparation for the real attack that was about to come, but I couldn’t move; the string that was being used for cat’s cradle up until a second ago was now drawn right across my path of movement. It was a trap. My ankle got caught on the thick, taut string, and I lost my footing, causing me to flounder uselessly in midair.

I grabbed on to the bunk bed with my right hand and avoided falling to the floor, but the kids had predicted that outcome, too. They had colored in the bed’s handrails with crayons until they were slick, and my right hand slid off. Both of my hands hit the floor. I instinctively tried to get back up, but unfortunately for me, I’d left my back momentarily wide-open to the kiddie gang. There was no way they would let this opportunity go by. I could feel the seven- and eight-year-old boys lunging at me from behind. If I let them get me now, I’d soon be no different from a prisoner marching to the guillotine—I could see it. I needed to teach them just how frightening the real Mafia was.

I swiftly knocked the ball rolling by my side with the back of my hand, bouncing it off the wall and hitting the seven-year-old right in the face. Unable to see his target anymore, he landed on the floor and took cover. Next, I pulled my ankle free, tearing the string trap apart before putting my weight on my left leg. When I lifted my right leg high into the air, the kid latched on to it squealed with joy and dropped to the floor. All that was left was the eight-year-old lunging at me from behind, but he alone wouldn’t be able to hold me down. I stood up with him hanging on to my back.

The agile kid, the one who’d been hiding in the bed, was the gang’s leader. Even after witnessing the unsightly defeat of his men, he still boldly went for the attack. Since this was his plan all along, he couldn’t back down no matter how obviously hopeless it was.

I caught the leader as he tried to charge me head-on. He made an admirable attempt to grab my legs and knock me off-balance, but there was just too much of a weight difference. Seizing him under the arms, I lifted him up, turned him upside down, and shook him. He bleated like a goat with a hangover.

“Give up?” I asked.

“Never!” he screamed.

With no will to fight, the others simply watched to see how much longer their leader could maintain his dignity as commander in chief.

“Then it looks like some Mafia-style torture is in order.”

With both hands under his armpits, I tickled the kid as if there were no tomorrow.

“Hya-ha-ha! W-wai— Ha-ha-hee-hee-hee!”

It took two minutes and forty-two seconds before he agreed to my terms of surrender.

***

I talked to the children for some time after that. Apparently, life at the restaurant was passable for the most part, but they were rather displeased with the food menu rotating every three days. They demanded swift improvement, or at least permission to be in the kitchen.

“Pops is nice, but…,” the oldest boy said. “Like, he treats us all like kids, but we’re all adults here, ya know? Is us growin’ up so quickly a problem for the adults or something?”

I told him that it probably was.

“We’re gonna get you next time!” the kids proclaimed, to which I responded that I was looking forward to it—and I honestly was. After that, I retired from the second floor. When I returned to the restaurant, I heard a new customer’s voice—a familiar one at that.

“Whoa! This is spicy, mister! Really spicy! What’s your secret ingredient? Lava?!”

“Ha-ha-ha, ya think so? That’s what Odasaku always has. Hey, Odasaku, welcome back. How were the kids?”

“It was close, but I remain undefeated,” I replied. “However, they predicted where I would grab on to, so they colored it in with crayons to make me slip. I was really worried for a second there. You said they’d be able to hold up a bank if there were ten of them, but I bet they’d be able to pull that off in two more years with their current numbers.”

“Maybe I should recruit them…” Dazai smirked while wiping his sweat. “I heard all about it, Odasaku. You’re raising five kids, huh? And not only that, they’re orphans from the Dragon’s Head Conflict.”

Even if I’d tried to hide it, Dazai would’ve been able to figure it out with just half a day’s worth of research.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

The children were orphans. They would have all died if I hadn’t saved them. Two years ago, various syndicates, including the Port Mafia, were involved in a large-scale underground dispute known as the Dragon’s Head Conflict. A certain skill user died, leaving behind five hundred billion yen’s worth of dirty money, which led to a bloody, murderous frenzy that spread throughout the entire Kanto region. Most illegal armed organizations came close to extinction as a result.

I also participated in the struggle. It was such a bloodbath that you’d get attacked once every ten minutes just walking the streets. The result was countless scores of bodies.

The children on the second floor were kids who had nowhere to go after the incident was over.

“A Mafia member who refuses to kill, talented yet has no interest in advancing through the ranks, a man who’s raising five orphans—Sakunosuke Oda.” Dazai smirked. “You’re a strange guy. You might be the strangest guy in the entire Mafia.”

Not as long as they had Dazai.

I faced the restaurant owner once more and pulled out an envelope of bills from my coat pocket.

“Pops, this should be enough money for the kids for now.”

“You sure this is okay, Odasaku?” There was a worried tone in the owner’s voice as he wiped his fingers on his apron and accepted the envelope. “I mean, I know most of your earnings end up here… If it’s all right, I can throw in some of my money, too.”

“I really appreciate you letting us use your place, Pops. That, plus the curry here, is more than enough.”

“Odasaku, do you seriously eat this spicy curry all the time?” Dazai asked as he took a sip of water. “It’s so hot that my jaw’s about to fall off.”

“Dazai, what are you doing here anyway?” I asked.

“I have something I need to tell you about the case. A lot of things came to light after we last talked, especially about the enemy.”

There was only one case I knew of.

“Pops, sorry to ask this, but could you give us some privacy?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be in the back getting things ready, so just holler if we get a customer.”

The owner seemed to have sussed out the situation from my expression alone, and he took off his apron before gleefully heading out the back door. Dazai ended up eating most of his curry while tirelessly downing his cup of water. During that time, I let myself into the kitchen, made some coffee, and poured myself a cup.

“Man, that was hot. Why does curry have to be that hot? Does it have something against mankind? More people would eat it if it were less spicy. This is negligence in food culture.”

I thought about it for a moment before answering. “If more people ate it, then nobody would eat anything else, thus completely destroying food culture as we know it.”

“Makes sense.” Dazai nodded, seemingly convinced. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ll get straight to the point. It’s a foreign crime syndicate,” he started to explain while pouring another glass of water. “They’ve only been in Japan for a short while. They used to be a well-known European skilled crime syndicate, but an organization of skill users in Great Britain known as the Order of the Clock Tower drove them out of the continent, and they scurried away to Japan.”

“They’re a European criminal organization?”

Europe was home to top-class skill users employed by both the government and various criminal organizations, and as a result, those skill users built an extremely elaborate and complex power structure throughout the continent. That was why such a strict surveillance system had been put in place to prevent such individuals from escaping to other countries.

When I asked Dazai how they could have gotten here, he tilted his head and replied, “Yeah, a crime syndicate of skill users shouldn’t be able to illegally enter another country that easily. There has to be more to this than meets the eye. They might have a collaborator within Japan.”

“But what did they come all the way to Japan for anyway?”

“Beats me. The only way we’ll know is if we ask them. We can guess, though. They escaped to a foreign land without a soul to rely on. This might sound snide, but they’re dead broke. So maybe they’re trying to make it big by stealing the Port Mafia’s turf and smuggling route.”

It was possible. There’s only one thing that poor crime syndicates want: money, money, and more money. But there was just one thing bothering me. I started to open my mouth to express my concerns.

“Hold on. Hear me out until the end.” Dazai stopped me as if he could read my mind. “I know what you want to say, Odasaku. They’re way tooskilled to just be a group of low-level criminals who joined forces, right? I thought the same thing. You almost never see a sniper and spotter operating in tandem around here, let alone so proficiently. Those were ex-military. According to the intel I received, the leader of their organization is a powerful skill user and soldier commanding a seasoned group of men. I should be getting more detailed information soon. Anyway, you can’t underestimate these guys. If they systematically attack with such precise tactics, then even the Port Mafia might come tumbling down.”

“Does the boss know about this?”

“I told him,” Dazai reluctantly replied. “He appointed me as commander of the front line and tasked me with devising a strategy for Mimic, so I immediately set up a few traps—simple mousetraps. I’ve got a feeling the enemy might make a move soon.”

Mimic wasn’t just going to steal some weapons and try to snipe us—only to then hang their hats up and go home. Dazai was right. They were going to strike again…and it was going to be big.

“This is a really basic question, but…,” I said, then continued, “… shouldn’t the government be cracking down on crime syndicates with skill users?”

There were more than a few people in the world with unusual powers, including Dazai and me. The type of skill differs per person, but some are highly dangerous. That was why the government established a special agency to constantly surveil these dangerous individuals in secret. Those government agents, too, are skill users, and highly capable ones at that.

“You mean the Home Affairs Ministry’s Special Division for Unusual Powers, right?” Dazai cocked his head. “But see, they’re a secret organization, so they don’t really show their faces much. Besides, the Port Mafia is a powerful crime syndicate with skill users as well. I bet nothing would make that division happier than if the Mafia and Mimic took each other out.”

Dazai had a point. If the Special Division for Unusual Powers was so obsessed with eradicating crime involving skill users, then they’d have to take out the Port Mafia first. I’d heard from Ango once before that although the Division was a government agency with experienced skill users, they had only a few elites within their ranks; that would make it difficult for them to take a massive organization such as the Port Mafia head-on and win unscathed. They would most certainly have casualties. Apparently, the Special Division for Unusual Powers was trying to avoid that at all costs, so they stuck to simply keeping an eye on the Port Mafia from a safe distance. Of course, they’d have to bestir themselves if there were a lot of civilian casualties as well.

Only one question remained, although difficult to ask.

“What about Ango?”

Dazai didn’t immediately reply, sipping on his freshly brewed cup of coffee in silence. Even he needed time to prepare an answer.

“We’re almost completely certain that Ango is the one who leaked the code to the armory,” he muttered with eyes downcast on his cup. Then he glanced over at me as if he was trying to see my reaction. I didn’t say a word. “Everyone in the organization is issued a different passcode to avoid trouble. And—”

“The code Mimic used to open the armory matched the one given to Ango, right?”

I crossed my arms. The missing pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together. The pattern I saw, though, was one I wish I hadn’t.

“Hey, Dazai.” I took a seat by his side. For a split second, I felt as if I were in a dream. It was as though nothing had changed—just like the other day when I was sitting with Ango and Dazai at the bar. “Is there any possibility that someone framed Ango and is pulling the strings from behind the scenes?”

“It’s not out of the question. That’s always a possibility,” Dazai answered, but he didn’t seem to believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “If someone in the Mafia was colluding with Mimic, then sure, it’s possible. But I can’t think of a single person who’d benefit from that.”

Dazai shook his head. I felt the same way. All we could do at that point was find Ango as soon as possible and ask him. Whether that would bring us the results we hoped for was anyone’s guess, though.

The Mafia’s intelligence officer—Ango Sakaguchi. Why did he betray the syndicate?

During the battle of intelligence in the previous war of the syndicates, there were various barriers preventing members of enemy organizations from turning to the opposing side: money, the opposite sex, family, pride, a sense of belonging. From what I’d heard, if all of these barriers were cleared, then the enemy would most definitely defect. So what would’ve been Ango’s reason to join Mimic?

I looked to Dazai in search of an answer. He was hanging his head, contemplating in silence. His expression was…

Dazai was…

“…Ha-ha-ha.”

…laughing.

“At first, I just thought they were your average crime syndicate, but if they’re good enough for Ango to join, then that means a little arm-twisting isn’t gonna make them cry and say they’re sorry. Plus, Ango’s no pushover as an enemy. He’s no walk in the park. This is getting exciting. I bet they’re gonna back me into a corner, then—”

“Dazai.”

He paused when I called his name. I didn’t have anything else to say, though; I simply said his name.

Nobody knew what Dazai was really thinking.

It’s an unwritten rule in the Mafia to not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. One must never open the door to another’s heart and try to judge them for the darkness tucked within. That was one nice thing about the Mafia.

But maybe, just maybe, that was the wrong approach—or at the very least, when it came to the man sitting next to me. Somebody probably should’ve tied him up, pried his chest open, and stuffed a vacuum cleaner inside. Then, as he screamed and cried until they needed to punch him to shut him up, they’d suck every last bit out of his chest and stamp it into the ground.

But in reality, such a vacuum didn’t exist. Chests don’t open up like that, and no one is capable of such feats. What we see is everything, and everything we see, we ignore. All we can do is stand before the deep ditch between us and others and keep silent.

“Well, I should get going,” Dazai said before standing.

“Dazai.” He turned around when I called out to him. Rubbing my hands together, I looked down at the empty plate and coffee cup, then back up. “Are you thinking that way because—?”

Out of nowhere, Dazai’s cell phone began to ring. He lightly bowed to me before placing the phone against his ear and answering. A few moments went by as he listened to whoever was on the other side, but soon enough, his lips suddenly twisted into a grin.

“All right.”

He hung up, then faced me once more before saying:

“We caught a mouse in our trap.”

***

There was no distinction between day and night in the Yokohama Settlement.

What was once the living quarters for a former occupying army was now a joint settlement with strong influences left over from the foreign consul. On paper, the Japanese military police and the consul police worked together to maintain public order within the Settlement. However, the law’s particulars were incredibly ambiguous, leading to countless gray areas. Numerous military parties, financial conglomerates, and criminals gathered here from all over the world like moths to a flame in order to benefit from these loopholes.

Even the MP cannot carelessly dabble in the Settlement’s affairs. It’s virtually an extraterritorial 'Demon City,' which is one reason why Yokohama gained public notoriety for acting as the largest base for criminals with skills.

In one corner of this Demon City was an underground casino run by the Port Mafia. It was neither glamorous nor luxurious, but instead rather plain and ambiguous; it basically blended into the scenery. At least, that was how it appeared. But there was a reason for that. All the gambling done inside was illegal.

The casino was located beneath a shipyard and had a horde of Mafia guards on patrol. Patrons who visited were top-class financiers, politicians, military officers, and the like. The doorman wearing a double-breasted coat escorted the customers. Inside the underground casino was a chandelier, illuminating the damask wallpaper, wooden mosaic flooring, and shag carpeting. Various equipment stood like reticent sentinels: a jukebox playing jazz music from the Prohibition era, a roulette board, and a blackjack table. With their drinks in one hand, people casually squandered their money while enjoying secret conversations. A middle-aged bartender silently made cocktails behind the bar set in the corner.

That was when the unexpected suddenly happened. Soldiers draped in gray rags soundlessly appeared from the back door and began firing their submachine guns. Fragments of the chandelier and walls scattered into the air, raining over the customers’ heads. Like a flock of sheep struck by a bolt of lightning, the customers stampeded into each and every direction, wildly stomping over and on one another to escape. That was the first thing the soldiers were going for.

In the heat of the confusion, the croupiers swiftly grabbed the machine pistols they’d hidden away, but before they could even aim, the soldiers’ suppressive fire pierced their chests and brought them to their knees. The five soldiers immediately cut across the casino floor and rushed into the manager’s room in the back. They promptly disposed of the manager, then ripped the carpet off the floor.

Embedded in the floor was a large electric safe. One of the soldiers took out a notepad and punched in the numbers written in it on the electronic keypad. A gear deep inside the safe made a heavy clicking sound, and the door opened. The soldiers took a peek inside.

The safe was empty.

Their astonishment was as clear as day. Almost instantaneously, an electronic alert howled throughout the building, and fireproof shutters slammed to the ground with a heavy clang. The soldiers, aware of what was going on, shot the shutters, but the thick screens were designed to withstand bullets. After a few seconds, the ceiling sprinklers went off, sending a liquid over the soldiers, the croupiers, and even the patrons who couldn’t get away.

The liquid wasn’t water, however; it was a white substance that almost immediately evaporated when it came into contact with clothes or the floor. The patrons and employees, who had breathed in the air, began to cough violently. The soldiers promptly held their breath, but it was already too late.

One after another, everyone in the room began to collapse onto the floor. Almost no one was able to do anything of use. They simply clasped their throats, bent forward, and passed out. The white substance was just a type of knockout gas that affected the respiratory system; it wasn’t fatal.

However, the one soldier who had the most accurate grasp of the situation shot himself in the head. His blood and brain matter sprayed the wall, leaving a pattern that symbolized the last moment of his life. The remaining soldiers, on the other hand, lacked the clarity of mind to act on the spur of the moment. And just like the casino patrons, they fell to the ground.

There was only one difference between the patrons and the soldiers: The latter would never be allowed the luxury of a peaceful death.

***

I visited a small accounting firm by the coast. Ango used to work here in his early days before he became a top-secret intelligence agent. Everyone starts at the bottom of the pecking order sometime in their life.

Once I arrived at the office, I told them why I came. The guard and administrator both beamed as they escorted me to the back. The Mafia’s not all steel, guns, and explosives. These kinds of people are necessary, too.

This place was used as an accounting facility that washed the dirty money the Mafia brought in illegally. Three years ago, Ango was headhunted by the Mafia and worked here as an assistant.

The guard and the admin ended up bringing me to a windowless room hidden behind a wall. It was a dim space with secret Mafia assets, money- laundering ledger sheets, and other records stuffed in bookshelves lined up against the wall, plus a desk in the middle. There was nothing else except for a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, faintly wobbling.

“There ya go. Now if ya don’t mind, I’ll be gettin’ back to work,” came the administrator’s husky voice once he’d taken me to the bookshelves.

He claimed he had work to do, but I’d glanced into the room next door earlier and saw that his desk was covered in bonsai plants and a book on shogi—nothing else.

“Thank you very much.” I expressed my gratitude. “By the way, there’s a bit of burgeoning conflict unfolding at headquarters right now. Please be careful.”

“The only things here are old documents and stacks of securities that can’t be cashed. Attacking this place would just be a hassle.”

The administrator smirked. He had been the treasurer in charge of the Mafia’s finances for years. Perhaps he could instinctively sense where the sparks of war would land.

“This is a nice workplace.”

After surveying the room, I called out to the administrator as he was leaving, “Maybe I should ask to be transferred here.”

The skin on his face crinkled as his lips curled into a grin.

“Most young’uns who say that don’t even last three days before they head for the hills. It’s boring here.”

After thanking the administrator for his time, I faced the open bookshelves once more. Ango’s records were here. Accountants have always been the epitome of meticulousness itself, but the people who manage the Mafia’s under-the-table accounts must be capable of writing out in detail everything that happens during the course of business. That way, even if they’re killed, the successor can take over for them without delay. I flipped through the business logs of the prior accountant. He was apparently well organized, even more than your average accountant, but just one single month of records alone was like reading a full-length novel—basically one long lyric poem about the underbelly of society.

I sat behind the desk in the middle of the hidden room and leafed through the documents. According to the records, Ango used to be a kind of hacker who bought and sold information. In the past, he drew out a scheme where he would work together with a gang to steal money from a corporation. They pretended they worked for the bank, opened the safe-deposit box, then swiped all the securities to exchange for cash. The plan was a complete success, so Ango and his team made quite a bit of money. But it was money stained in blood. The safe-deposit box and securities belonged to one of the Mafia’s front companies; Ango and his men basically swiped money right out of the Mafia’s pockets. Unsurprisingly, Ango was chased by hounds after that—armed mad dogs in black that tailed their prey through the night without so much as a howl or even a single sound.

Mentally exhausted and being fed misinformation, the gang grew suspicious of one another, leading to a shoot-out and their quick demise. Ango, on the other hand, continued to run. He was able to figure out in advance where the Mafia’s tracking unit would be next, allowing him to simply escape their reach throughout Yokohama. No less than six months went by.

For those six months, Ango managed to outsmart the Mafia’s tracking unit who knew Yokohama like the back of their hand, something that would’ve even put a government spy to shame. He was most likely somehow using the Mafia’s intelligence network in secret and leaking misinformation to confuse his enemies.

But there’s an end of the road for everybody. Nobody can evade the darkness of the night forever. Ango must have been prepared to die when he was captured in the slum’s underground aqueduct. Instead, he was brought before the boss, who wasn’t willing to dispose of someone with such outstanding information-manipulation skills.

That was the start of Ango’s second life.

—That was the first dramatic step of the man’s rise in the underworld. From what I can see in these files, there’s not even a shadow of Mimic in his background.

…Which meant Mimic and Ango didn’t have any contact until after this.

I flipped through the files some more until I found an account that caught my eye. Two years ago, Ango went to Europe for business after he had been in the Mafia for a year and gained their trust. His objective was to close a deal with a local stolen car broker. However, Ango ceased communication for those two months for unknown reasons. He didn’t seem any different once he returned, and he explained that some sort of misunderstanding with a local organization had led to his getting pursued as a criminal. And his story checked out, too. After looking into it, I discovered there actually was a mass arrest in Europe of organizations that smuggled stolen vehicles. The Port Mafia came to the conclusion that Ango must have gotten caught up in that, so no more questions were asked of him.

But in retrospect, it was hard to believe that Ango was on the run for two months because he couldn’t clear up such a simple misunderstanding. Nobody could confirm what Ango did during that period in Europe. With what I learned, I could only assume he used this time to meet with Mimic and come to some sort of deal—in other words, as a double agent. That would’ve meant Mimic had already been laying the groundwork to attack the Port Mafia from that moment on.

I closed the files, then sank deep into my thoughts to meditate. The room was dead silent. The only noises I heard were the sounds of passing cars, like a film far away. Something was off. Something about this scenario bothered me. Ango joined the Mafia, then secretly communicated with Mimic. From there, he waited for just the right time for both syndicates to clash. It was too perfect, like two computers playing chess. There were no signs of any unexpected actions, no curveballs…and that conversely made me uneasy.

I surveyed the room, thinking back to how Ango used to work here. That day, he had been in the same spot I was in at that very moment. Ango had been sitting in the chair with his elbows on the desk, his expression glum as he’d stared at me in silence.

This was where we first met. Ango was arrogant back then. He practically oozed displeasure, the bored expression on his face plainly illustrating that he didn’t feel he belonged in a place like this. I thought back to the way he’d looked at me. What did he say to me when we first met again? I believe it was…

***

“Could you please not get any closer? You smell,” he said with disgust and his elbows still on the desk. Dazai and I couldn’t even say a word as we stood stock-still by the door. An awkward silence descended over the hidden room.

I had heard around that this young man was the new guy, Ango Sakaguchi, but this was the first time I was actually meeting him. Dazai and I exchanged glances. We did indeed smell terrible. After all, we were on our way back from a mission. We must’ve reeked of oil, rust, and blood. My nose had given up sending signals to my brain a long time ago.

It was the middle of the Dragon’s Head Conflict. There was nary a night when you didn’t hear gunfire, and practically every drop of sewage water had been tainted with blood. The bodies of underground syndicate members piled up in every corner of the city. Even the MP couldn’t put a stop to it all, never mind come up with the manpower to inspect the crime scenes.

Dazai and I were given orders to clean up the fallen Port Mafia members’ bodies. We would photograph the corpses, then take their possessions back with us. We couldn’t afford to have the police take anything as evidence in their attempt to curb organized crime.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t a job you could afford to obsess over too much in the throes of war. What’s more, all the gunfights took place at the Yokohama Settlement’s waste-disposal site. That was where sludge and industrial waste oil were typically dumped illegally, and the police never went anywhere near it, let alone the neighboring residents.

And that was why Dazai and I were covered in oil and mud. The lingering stench was enough to send a stray cat on the other side of town running in the opposite direction.

At one point during our mission, Dazai had told me with an uncomfortable grimace, “It smells so bad that I want to cut my nose off.”

Glancing at us, Ango spoke bluntly. “Put their belongings on my desk, then stand back. Don’t open your mouth unless I ask you something.”

We did as we were told.

“You’re the new guy, right?” Dazai piped up. “Sorry, but can I use your shower? As you so politely pointed out, we smell awful—”

“I told you to keep quiet.”

Ango cut Dazai off, causing him to fall silent with his mouth agape. The other half of the sentence Ango had wrested from him idly hung in the air.

Regardless of how young he may have looked, Dazai was the leading candidate for the next executive. While Ango may have been a new hire at the accounting firm, that didn’t excuse his behavior.

He pulled the items out of the bags we gave him and began to inspect them one by one. IDs, keys, phones, knives, guns, pictures—he checked each item while recording them in his account book.

I had no idea what Ango was doing. I fully believed the evidence would be incinerated after checking them off with the names of the deceased. However, the new guy was inspecting each and every item, writing them down. Just what was he doing?

“What are you doing?” My curiosity got the best of me.

“How many times do I have to ask you to be quiet?” Ango replied as his pencil glided over the notepad. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m creating logs, of course.”

“I see,” I replied.

“Tell us your name!” Dazai suddenly yelled, causing me to jump in surprise. Ango’s eyes flicked over toward Dazai. Then, after a few moments of silence, he replied, “Ango…Sakaguchi.”

“Heh-heh-heh-heh…” Dazai began to chuckle, smiling from ear to ear for some reason.

“…What’s with the nauseating laugh?”

“You’re quite the interesting fellow, Ango. Doing that isn’t going to make the boss happy. In fact, it’s just going to cost more money and create extra work, never mind help you move up in the ranks.”

“Are you saying you know what I’m doing?” Ango asked with more than a hint of surprise on his face.

“You’re making records of the lives of the deceased. Am I right?”

Ango was caught off guard, his eyes wide in shock as if he’d just realized Dazai was there.

“When did you peek inside my logbooks?”

“I didn’t have to. It’s pretty obvious what you’re doing.”

I had no idea what made it so obvious, but stuff like this always happened when I was with Dazai, so I just quietly watched the scene play out. Dazai walked straight over to Ango with no regard for his reaction.

“The more violent this war becomes, the more the deceased start to just look like numbers. How many died yesterday? How many died today? The line between human losses and those of money and equipment begin to blur. There is no individual, no soul, and no dignity to death. But you’re fighting back against that. Anyway, could you read us one?”

Ango glared at Dazai in irritation for a few moments, but he eventually lowered his gaze to the files and began reading.

“Four of ours perished yesterday during the attack near the waste site: Kurehito Umeki, Shoukichi Saegusa, Miroku Ishige, and Kazuma Utagawa… Umeki was a former MP officer who was stigmatized and kicked out of the force for allegedly killing his colleague. He joined the Mafia soon after and proved to be a skilled leader in battle. He even led this small group. Umeki had already lost his parents prior to these events. He has a brother many years younger, but they haven’t been in contact. Whether he really killed his colleague is now forever a mystery never to be solved… Next is Saegusa. He succeeded his father in the Mafia and had been involved with the organization ever since he was a child. He had a way of calming situations down and was apparently loved by the shop owners on our turf. His dream was to become an executive… Now we have Ishige. She was a former sex worker who had been caring for her sick parents. She had poor eyesight but an excellent sense of hearing, which allowed her to hear the enemies coming before they attacked. Ishige likely played a huge role in the survival of many of our members… The final victim, Utagawa, was originally an assassin for an enemy syndicate that became a Mafia subsidiary when they were nearly wiped out. Utagawa is survived by his wife and kids, who do not know of his life of an assassin nor his association with the Mafia. Perhaps they will never know.”

I imagined the lives of the four departed as I listened to Ango. While I couldn’t vividly see them, I felt closer to them and their existence, which was no more.

Ango closed his book, then said, “They all found peace. Nobody can take that away from them. The information in this book is evidence of their lives and the legacy of people who will never be recorded as simply ‘four deaths’ in a report. I started collecting this data in between jobs, and I have created the same records for all eighty-four people in the Port Mafia who died since the conflict began.”

I found myself in mute amazement. It was difficult to even imagine how much work that must have been.

“Does the boss know about this—about the fact that you’re collecting and recording data that has no strategic value?” I asked.

“Yes, I gather the files together every week and shove them in the boss’s hands myself. He was annoyed at first, but now he feels that this is ‘a valuable source of information for truly understanding the state of the entire organization.’ He has come to enjoy reading them.”

What he’d started as a side project between jobs turned into his main responsibility, one directly handed to him from the boss. I guess that explained why the boss gave orders to Dazai, a candidate for the next executive, to rummage through dead bodies.

“Fascinating, isn’t it, Odasaku?” Dazai brazenly patted Ango on the back. “There’s really nobody in the Mafia like this—a true waste of talent.”

“I told you to stay back. You’re going to make me start smelling.” Ango grimaced.

“Don’t you agree, Odasaku? Don’t you just wanna read these records?” I nodded, then replied, “Name your price. I’ll buy them off you.”

“They’re not for sale! Why are you even bothering me anyway?! I’m busy, you know! And you smell like rotten tsukudani!”

“C’mon, what’s a little rotten simmered fish between us? Besides, it goes great with sake.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“No, they don’t! How can you lie about that so brazenly?!”

“B-but…it really does…taste good, y’know?”

“I didn’t mean you should be more timid about it!”

“I could really go for a drink now.”

“Good thinking! Let’s go to the usual place. We can even take this apprentice accountant with us while we’re at it. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

“I said I’m busy, so—”

“Odasaku, there’s only one way to save this man from his busyness. All we have to do is hug him tight from each side, covering him with mud, oil, and our putrid smell. That way, he physically won’t be able to work anymore today!”

“Good point.”

“Wh-what?! Are you threatening me?!”

“New guy, the Mafia doesn’t threaten. We murder. Oh, Odasaku, take the right side, will ya?”

“Sure thing.”

“W-wait! These are my best clothes! S-stop! You’re going to make me angr— Aaah!”

…………

We all gathered at the bar after that and got to know one another. There were no bosses or subordinates present; the three of us basically acted as equals. We drank, and we talked. That’s it. We talked about the city, about liquor, about the people we’ve met. It wasn’t as if we were passionately discussing some special topic we wanted to share, but even then, we didn’t run out of things to chat about. We were like soldiers who had by chance run into one another on the desert battlefield, crowded around a campfire together, quietly exchanging something or other and drinking, just sharing a moment of one another’s time.

In the world we live in, finding these types of relationships are rare, like coming upon a golden palace in the middle of a dense forest. If this relationship were to ever be broken, there would be no second chance to build something like this with anyone else ever again.

But then…

The old-fashioned pistol. The code to the safe.

Our relationship was beginning to visibly crumble at an alarming rate.

***

Dazai walked down a set of stairs leading to a dim basement. A white mist silently seeped in through the cracks in the stone wall, making the chamber hazy as if it were underwater. The walls were moist and black, dimly glittering after absorbing countless screams and despair.

This was the Mafia’s underground prison. Many entered alive, but very few left that way. Scores of people were taken down here for various reasons, among them the large number of instruments of torture available, the extreme difficulty involved in rescuing prisoners, and the simple fact that it was just a bit easier to clean up any mess and blood in the basement.

Dazai walked through the prison in silence as he headed toward the special prisoners’ cell. It was nothing more than a single room of around thirty-six square yards. The only entrance and exit was a short iron door; there wasn’t even a window to let the light in. Shackles and chains like those of a medieval jail hung from the wall.

There were three dead bodies in the middle of the cell—all relatively fresh. Their blood slowly spread across the floor, as if fruitlessly struggling to escape from the gloomy chamber. The ones who died here were Mimic soldiers. They had lost consciousness after breathing in knockout gas at the casino, and the Mafia had taken them here to be tortured.

“Tell me what happened,” Dazai said.

Four Mafia members were also in the cell, three of whom were Dazai’s subordinates who had helped fight against the sniper in the back alley. The fourth was a short, lean boy robed in a black overcoat.

“We used sleeping gas to knock out the Mimic’s vanguard when they attacked our casino, and then we brought them here,” one suited subordinate replied, pushing up his sunglasses. “We planned on torturing them for info on their allegiances, and we even removed the poison tucked away in their molars so they couldn’t kill themselves.”

“Yes, I’ve got that much. This was my plan, after all. What I want to know is what happened next.”

“One of the soldiers woke up quicker than we expected…” The one in sunglasses started stumbling over his words. “Before we could shackle him… he grabbed one of our guns and killed his men…just to make sure they wouldn’t talk. Then he attacked us, and—”

“I executed him.” The young boy in the black overcoat finished the mafioso’s sentence. Dazai looked at the boy, whose wide eyes glared back. “Is there a problem?”

“I see… No, there’s no problem.” Staring right into the boy’s eyes, Dazai continued, “You defeated an unyielding, formidable enemy and protected your allies, Akutagawa. Good work.”

Dazai began walking toward the boy in the black overcoat, the one he’d called Akutagawa. “Only your skill can defeat such a powerful enemy in one hit. Impressive. I wouldn’t expect any less from a subordinate of mine. Thanks to you, all three of the enemies we captured are dead—enemies I set a trap for and worked really hard to capture alive. Now we’re back to square one without a clue. If at least one of them were still living, we could’ve gotten some valuable information: where their base is, what they want, what’s their next target, who their leader is, where this leader came from, what this leader’s skill is… You really did us a favor.”

“Information? I’ll just slice every one of them into pieces until—”

Dazai suddenly punched Akutagawa in the face, preventing him from finishing his sentence. Akutagawa flew back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the stone flooring with a thud.

“Perhaps I made it look like I wanted to hear excuses. Sorry for the misunderstanding,” Dazai said while rubbing his knuckles.

“Urgh…”

Akutagawa moaned. He’d hit his head so hard that he couldn’t even stagger to his feet.

“Give me your gun,” Dazai ordered one of his men. The subordinate was hesitant but nonetheless handed over his weapon. Next, Dazai removed the magazine from the automatic pistol, took out all but three bullets, and then put the magazine back in. He immediately pointed the gun at Akutagawa, who was still on the ground.

“I have this friend who’s supporting several orphans all on his own, you see,” he continued, his weapon still drawn and aimed at the boy.

“Akutagawa, I’m sure Odasaku would’ve been patient enough to give you the guidance you needed had he been the one who’d found you on the brink of starvation in the slums. That would have been the ‘right’ thing to do. But ‘righteousness’ doesn’t take very kindly to me. And there’s only one thing people like me do to useless subordinates.”

Dazai mercilessly pulled the trigger the moment he finished his sentence.

Three gunshots. Three flashes of light. Three empty shells tinkled across the floor.

“……”

Sweat dripped down Akutagawa’s forehead.

“See? You really can do it if you put your mind to it.”

The bullets were floating motionlessly right in front of Akutagawa. He had used his skill to stop them. Yet, despite that, his expression indicated he was struggling.

“I’ve told you this over and over again,” Dazai said, amused. “Your skill isn’t just for slicing up poor prisoners. You can use it to defend yourself, too.”

Akutagawa’s skill, Rashomon, allowed him to control his black overcoat like another life-form, transforming it into fangs or blades to cut through his opponents. Dazai had also theorized that his skill could even rupture space itself, thus blocking incoming bullets.

“Until now…I’ve never successfully used it to block.”

Akutagawa’s voice was lifeless, hoarse. He’d used most of his mental strength to create an interruption in space.

“But look at you now. You did it. I’m so happy for you.”

Akutagawa scowled. A look of severe tension shot across his face, almost exploding with emotion.

“Next time you mess up, I’m punching you twice and shooting five times. Got it?”

Dazai’s voice was colder than ice. Akutagawa tried to say something back, but Dazai’s stern gaze pressured him into silence.

“Now that I’m done educating my incompetent underling, it’s time to get to work. Let’s check the bodies. We might be able to find something.”

After giving orders to the three subordinates at his side, one timidly spoke

up.

“So…what exactly do you want us to check?”

“Everything! Isn’t it obvious?” Dazai cried in exasperation. “We need to find something that might lead us to their hideout. Anything could be a clue: the soles of their shoes, the trash in their pocket, food crumbs from whatever they ate, adhesives stuck to their clothes—everything. Tsk… My lackeys seem to think beating the enemy to death is all the Mafia does. Odasaku’s gonna solve everything all by himself at this rate.”

“Sakunosuke Oda… I know that guy,” the subordinate with sunglasses added hesitantly. “Dazai, sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but…I saw him sweeping behind the office the other day. A man of his status isn’t qualified to be your friend, let alone contend with an enemy like this.”

Dazai stared, flabbergasted, at his underling.

“Are you joking? Odasaku’s not qualified?” Dazai asked, thoroughly surprised.

“Yes…”

The other men nodded as well.

“You fools!”

Dazai’s lips curled into a sneer in genuine disgust.

“Listen, I’m telling you guys this for your own good. Do not make Odasaku angry—no matter what you do. If you were to anger him—truly, deeply upset him—then all five people in this room would be dead before anyone could even draw their guns.”

The subordinates were at a loss for words. Even Akutagawa stared at Dazai with a tense expression on his face.

“When he’s serious, Odasaku’s scarier than anyone in the entire Mafia. Akutagawa, you could train for a hundred years, and you still wouldn’t be able to beat him.”

“…That is absurd…,” Akutagawa muttered, his voice stifled. “…That’s impossible. Are you saying that I—?”

But Dazai just ignored him.

“Now, let’s get to work! Our enemy might be a pain, but if we don’t sort this out soon, the Special Division for Unusual Powers is gonna show up to put the fire out, and we don’t want that.”

His hands still on the stone floor, Akutagawa merely glared at Dazai.

“…”

His spiteful gaze was aimed at not only Dazai, but even Akutagawa himself.

***

I left the accounting firm thinking about Ango, the man slowly slipping into evil somewhere in town. Or perhaps we, the Mafia, were the bad guys while Ango and Mimic were on the side of justice trying to bring us down. I started to believe that this hypothesis actually made even more sense than the others. Dazai, the boss, me, everyone in the Mafia—maybe we all deserved to die burdened with sin, solitude, and remorse. For all I knew, that could’ve been proof of the righteousness of this world. Those thoughts plagued my mind from the moment I departed the firm until I got a call from Dazai not long after.

“Hey, Odasaku. I know this is sudden, but we got a clue. I need you to go somewhere for me right now.”

According to him, the Mimic soldiers’ shoes had multiple dead leaves stuck on them from a certain perennial broadleaf that didn’t lose its leaves during that period. The entire plant would have to be withering for the leaves to fall, but perennials would not die so easily. Therefore, one conceivable possibility was that an herbicide was used to kill it.

From there, Dazai’s men searched for specialists who had used herbicides to get rid of trees those past few months. As a result, they found one shop around Yokohama that did in fact remove the same kind of broadleaves. Workers had cleared a bunch of them from the side of the road for a land readjustment project, part of which included expanding a traffic tunnel.

The area was in the mountains and void of any real landmarks. The only facility nearby was a weather observation station that had been abandoned over a decade ago. Nobody dared go near. It slowly fell apart, fading with time. The building was large, isolated, and capable of storing goods and resources. It was the perfect hideout for a group like Mimic, all alone in a foreign country with no one to turn to.

Night was not far off. I drove down the highway toward my destination as violet and cerise quarreled in the sky over the horizon. Somewhere off in the distance, I heard the sound of seabirds squawking.

I stopped my car along a dirt trail that cut into the mountains and got out. From there, I trotted through the thick weedy path until I eventually saw a reinforced concrete building in the darkness, bathing in the crimson glow of twilight.

It was a three-story abandoned building. Ivy crawled up what were once white walls, which had been battered with rain, the sea breeze, and the passage of time. Most of the paint was now gone. In the center of the building was an observation tower for monitoring the sky, topped with a spherical observation room that seemed to have been added more for aesthetics than for anything else.

Since the dirt and trees absorbed most sounds, the area was completely silent as if it were floating in outer space. I didn’t get the feeling there were many people hiding inside. After a moment’s thought, I decided to investigate the run-down building myself before Dazai’s men would arrive. I had a hunch, and if this hunch was correct, then I should’ve been able to find information on Ango there, and that information was probably something I shouldn’t show anyone else in the Mafia.

Pushing through the weeds, I entered the building. There was nothing on the first floor…if you ignored the loose floor tiles, rusted chairs, and dead beetles scattered about. The evening sun peeked in through the cracks of the boarded windows, illuminating the dust particles in the air. I discovered a few footprints in the dust and gravel-littered floor—military boots. It appeared a number of people had been coming to this spot as of late.

I had placed a foot on the staircase to the second floor, which looked as if it could come crumbling down at any moment, when I heard a sound coming from somewhere in the building. It was very faint, only about as loud as a kitten rolling on its back. I strode up the staircase, but I didn’t see a soul on the second floor. No signs of anyone on the third floor, either. It was just as I thought. I rushed upstairs, climbing the observation tower that connected to the observation room.

As I entered a small room at the top of the stairs, I found someone tied to a chair and unable to move. That person yelled at me the moment they noticed I was there.

“Odasaku! Stay back!”

I ignored his command and ran over. That man—Ango—struggled to free his hands, which had been tightly tied behind his back, but the rope didn’t even budge. I slipped behind him and began trying to untie his bonds.

“Why did you come?! The enemies are using this facility as their base!”

“I just got the feeling that you wanted help.”

I started to dismantle the knots—no easy feat.

“I don’t need any help!”

“Really?”

I slipped a finger into one of the rope’s knots, then tugged at it with a viselike grip. It loosened slightly.

“Let me guess one of the reasons you’re in trouble. Mimic found out you were a spy. Am I wrong?”

“…! That’s…”

Ango fell silent.

“Everyone in the Mafia thinks you’re a Mimic spy who infiltrated the Mafia. But it’s actually the opposite; Ango Sakaguchi is a Mafia spy who infiltrated Mimic.”

Ango instinctively opened his eyes wide and looked at me.

“Mimic was watching your room through a sniper rifle scope to make sure the old pistol inside wouldn’t get stolen. But why didn’t they just snipe the Mafia’s boss and get it over with? The reason is simple: You lied and said you didn’t know where the boss was. But why did you do that? Because the boss decides everything you say and don’t say about the Mafia.”

Ango squeezed his eyes shut. Clenching his teeth, he seemed to be struggled to keep down the emotions bubbling up from within.

Before long, he opened his eyes again and said, “Odasaku, please, you have to get out of here. I failed.” Ango signaled to the floor above with his chin. “There’s a time bomb upstairs. Now that they know I betrayed them, they plan on leaving no trace of me.”

“See? I knew you needed my help.” I gave up on trying to untie the knot and pulled out my gun. “Lean as far away from the chair as you can.”

I carefully aimed at the rope’s knot and fired two shots. The entire chair shook as the rope flew off.

“Let’s get out of here. How much time do we have before the bomb goes off?”

“The whole building is coming down any second now!”

Lending Ango my shoulder, we rushed down the staircase. It appeared Ango was slightly roughed up before being bound; he staggered while holding his side. But even then, we sprinted down the stairs so fast that we almost fell. The bomb went off right as we were about to run out the door. The shock wave came first, followed by blasts of hot air swooping down over us.

We leaped out the door headfirst. To be more technical about it, the blast blew us outside headfirst, and we were thrown into the thickets. All the air was squeezed out of my lungs.

Finally, rubble and debris from the building started raining down from the sky. I tried to move out of the way, but the blast from the bomb had rendered my body useless. Fortunately, no heavy chunks of concrete flew our way, and the light boards of the walls were sent flying far into the distance. Still, our backs were uncomfortably pelted with countless bits of gravel both large and small.

It took almost an entire minute before we could start breathing normally again. I coughed as I brushed the rubble off my head. My vision went back and forth from red to white.

“Ango… Are you okay?”

“Yeah, somehow.”

Ango crawled, pulling himself out of the rubble before looking back at the building. I did the same before turning around as well. The second floor up was essentially destroyed, leaving only the charred framework. Even the flooring of the room where Ango was being held prisoner had been blown away. Mimic really went all out on the explosives. They destroyed any evidence we would’ve used to go after them as well.

“How much does our boss know about this?” I asked Ango while trying to catch my breath.

“Almost everything,” he replied. “He’s the only one in the Mafia who knows I infiltrated Mimic. That’s how sensitive this mission is. More people knowing would increase the chances of a leak. This is a fundamental principle when handling secret information.”

“I’ve been had.” I got up, then took a seat on some rubble. “So that’s why the boss ordered me to find you while keeping the truth a secret.”

It was insurance in case Ango’s undercover work went south. He needed a pawn who would save him—someone who knew nothing, wouldn’t deceive anyone, and wouldn’t get suspicious no matter what happened.

“Bombs and close brushes with death aren’t really my thing.” Ango shook his head, making his bitterness clear.

“At any rate, Mimic was as quick as an arrow to react. They didn’t even give me a chance to take measures to protect myself. Ugh. I can see rainbow- colored stars when I close my eyes. What in the world is this?”

“You get used to it.”

“I have to inform the boss of what happened.” Ango got to his feet. “Mimic’s commander is a dangerous man. He’s coolheaded, has the qualities of a leader, and seeks conflict. He plans on completely annihilating the Mafia, and his men would slit their own throats for him. I even saw someone do it.”

“What’s this leader’s name?” I asked.

“André Gide. He’s a powerful skill user himself. He should be avoided at all costs, especially by you, Odasaku. Whatever you do, do not fight him… By the way, you were the one who found the pistol in the safe in my room, were you not?”

I replied that I was.

“That gun is a symbol. There’s a special design on the hammer that proves you’re a member of Mimic. It took me a year to receive one.”

As Ango stood in the midst of the debris with wobbly legs, he quickly turned his gaze to the thickets in the mountains…as if he was trying to look for something there.

“It’s too late to stop the war between Mimic and the Mafia. Fighting is all they think about. Moreover, it doesn’t matter to them who they fight. They’d dance the jitterbug with the hound of Hades if it would take them to their next battlefield. If we don’t do something soon, the city will— Ngh!”

The skin around Ango’s temple tore, and a trail of blood slowly trickled down his cheek. I handed him a handkerchief, which he thanked me for before using it to apply pressure to the wound.

“Just who are they?”

“They’re an army…although I’m sure you already figured that out yourself. They’re remnants of an army faction defeated during the previous interorganizational war. These men don’t know how to live outside of a battlefield. They’re known as grau geists—men with no master. Even now, they’re obsessed with warfare—” Ango suddenly turned his gaze to the dirt path. “What’s that?”

I followed his eyes. A blue temari handball, the type kids use to play games, rolled down the gravel slope. Did it get blown over there during the explosion? The ball rolled to my feet, and I picked it up. It was a deep azure. The strings were coming loose, since it was rather old, but there was something about the beautiful geometric pattern that drew me in. I rolled it around in my hand, and when I put my palms together, it fit perfectly between them. I looked at the back side, but there was nothing particularly unique—

The earth suddenly shook. All of a sudden, my gaze met the ground in front of me. The next second, I realized I was falling, and I collapsed face- first, despite placing both my hands out to catch myself. My vision blurred. I felt sick. When I looked at my hands, they were covered in a sticky blue liquid; that ball had been coated in it. The parts of my hand covered in the liquid tingled uncomfortably. Major alarm bells rang wildly in my head.

The vision ended there.

I stood among the debris. The worst thing about the vision ending was that I was already holding the handball. I immediately threw it away, but it was too late. I started to feel dizzy just like a moment ago. I rubbed my palms on my coat to wipe off the blue slime, but it had already been absorbed into my skin and infiltrated my body. My skill, Flawless, allowed me to see a few seconds—more than five but less than six—into the future in my head. That was how I was able to avoid surprise attacks like sniper fire and explosions.

However, if I were to realize I was in danger after falling into the trap… there was no way for me to avoid it even if I did have a vision just like the moment before. I had been holding the handball for over six seconds. It was too late. Whoever did this knew about my skill inside and out. There weren’t many people who did. Nervously sweating, I tried to warn Ango, but I couldn’t talk. A dark shadow appeared noiselessly behind him; it was four— no, five people dressed in field tunics as dark as the night with gas masks hiding their faces. They weren’t Mimic. None of them were carrying old- fashioned gray pistols, but rather state-of-the-art precision-guided rifles. They were with the Special Forces. One of the men in black tapped Ango on the shoulder. Ango turned around and nodded as if to say he understood.

“Odasaku, I apologize for the trouble I caused you.”

Ango walked over and placed the handkerchief I had just given him in my hand. I couldn’t brace myself, never mind hold the handkerchief. Ango took a white silk glove out of his pocket, then pulled it over his right hand before picking up the blue handball.

“You are free to speak of everything that happened here. Everything I told you about Mimic was true. I just wish I could have had a drink with you and Dazai one last time at the usual place and time…”

A Special Forces soldier tapped Ango on the arm, seemingly giving him a signal. After responding with his gaze, Ango looked down at me and smiled as if he had given up.

“Take care of yourself.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ango turn his back to me before leaving with the Special Forces. I wasn’t even able to move my neck or eyes at that point. The world in front of me was slowly swallowed by darkness. My tongue numb, I called out to Ango as he left, but even I didn’t know what I was saying. An indescribable feeling of loneliness was the only thing filling my heart…as if I were floating at the end of the universe.

Even that was swallowed by darkness. My consciousness faded to black.

***

#Bungo Stray Dogs #Bungou Stray Dogs #Bungo Stray Dogs Light Novels #Light Novel #Light Novel Volume 2 #Osamu Dazai And The Dark Era #Armed Detective Agency #Port Mafia #Kafka Asagiri #Sango Harukawa

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azikarue · 1 year

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Just A Moment : Chapter 30 : Moon

Ray/Salima | FFN Rating: K | FFN Link ❖ The last time Ray waited for her at the bridge, she never came.

He did his best not to dwell on that now, waiting for her again in the same spot. It was a different day with different circumstances and they were both different people in a lot of ways. It was different, even if a lot of the same feelings came rushing back to him the longer he stared down the river.

He sighed and glanced in the direction he thought she’d come from. It was the same way she’d approached from all those years ago. He could picture her there, backed by winking streetlights and looking as troubled as he felt, like it was yesterday.

There was something instantaneous about their connection back then. From the moment they exchanged those first few words on the riverbank, he knew she was a kindred spirit. Given time, they would have grown close, probably conversed until they were hoarse at any given opportunity.

With the emergence of the cyber bitbeasts, they never got that chance. They only spoke twice: to discuss the conflicting paths their teams were on, and during their battle as Cyber Driger ravaged her mind. She left to travel the world soon after, without saying goodbye.

It wasn’t until they bumped into one another, in line for the same flight to the World Championships, that he got the chance to strike up a conversation again. Just like he’d guessed, they spoke for the entire duration of the flight. By the end of it, they were finishing each others sentences and Ray was stalwartly ignoring the kissy faces Kevin was making from three rows up.

The sound of footsteps roused him from the tangle of memories.

Salima was walking towards him with her hands in the pockets of a longer coat than last time. The streetlights reflected against her red hair, highlighting it in gold. She smiled when she saw him and picked up the pace, unwittingly matching the beat of his heart.

“Hi Ray,” she said from the other side of the bridge, more pleased and less shocked to see him than their first meeting here.

“Salima.”

Her smile widened even more at the sound of her name.

Ray took a deep breath and hoped she didn’t notice.

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he started thinking she was the prettiest girl he knew, but it was during the European leg of the tournament, in a tiny cafe, hours-deep in conversation with her, that he realized it. The thought hit him like a ton of bricks and hadn’t left him alone for a minute since.

On the road, when they weren’t training with their respective teams, they gravitated to one another for company. Normally it was comfortable, with easy conversations about everything from travel to beyblading to common values.

After his realization, Ray caught himself starting to stare too much or zoning out and missing chunks of her stories. Tamping down his feelings didn’t work now that he knew what they were. There were many times he almost told her, convinced she would understand because she always did.

But if he was wrong... He got used to biting his tongue and ignoring the tugging feeling in his chest.

He was doing fine until yesterday, when her team lost one battle too many. They were out of the competition and it was up in the air if they’d follow the Championships out of Japan or not. Ray felt oddly panicky – he couldn’t let her leave without knowing if she felt the same way he did. The plan was to ask her out on a proper date and go from there. It was now or potentially never.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me tonight.”

Salima chuckled warmly and moved closer.

“I would ask if you had any doubts, but I remember what happened the last time I promised to meet you here.”

A shadow of guilt flashed in her eyes and Ray was seized by the sudden desire to gather her close and kiss it away.

“Hey.” He reached out, grazing her cheek with his fingertips before he got his wits back and settled his hand on her shoulder instead. “It’s in the past. We’ve both come a long way since then.”

One of their first conversations since meeting back up had started with Salima apologizing for Team Psykick’s antics. Ray accepted her apology without question, even before she shared all the gritty details of how she’d gotten roped into their dealings.

What he cared more about was how she’d been doing since. And what she was going to do now that her team was no longer competing this year.

Salima nodded. She was eyeing him curiously. He got the feeling that she knew at least some of what he was thinking. Instead of calling him out on anything, she simply leaned her elbows on the railing, stared out over the water, and said, “It’s a beautiful night.”

Ray was thankful for her tact. He stood beside her and rested one hand on the rail, letting the chill of the metal ground him.

“It’s dark,” he observed. Outside their halo of lamplight, the night sky and its reflection in the river might have been the only things to exist. It reminded him of the deep, comforting darkness of Salima’s eyes when she was listening intently. He slid half a step closer to her.

“It’s a new moon tonight,” Salima explained and matched his half-step, seemingly without notice. She studied the sky while he studied her, then grabbed his arm and pointed upward with her other hand. The lapel of her coat brushed his shoulder. “It would be there, I think. If we could see it. Do you know what a new moon symbolizes?”

“New beginnings,” Ray exhaled. Her hand was cool on his skin, but her touch made him feel impossibly warm.

“Mm-hmm. And second chances.” She squeezed his arm once before dropping her hand. “Feels reassuring after yesterday.” A pause, a furrow between her brows, and then: “After our loss.”

“You fought well, Salima,” he said, remembering the fire in her eyes as she gave Oliver a run for his money the day before. Her team put up a great fight and, even if the Majestics were too much for them in the end, the entire stadium could feel the spirit of the sport during their match. “All of you did. You should be proud.”

“Oh, I am!” she said, turning eyes as dark and boundless as the sky towards him. There were a hundred thoughts shining in them. “I know we battled our best. And this time we did it honestly and by our own power.”

Ray opened his mouth to tell her the past was the past, but she shushed him before he could form the words.

“Before you say it’s in the past – I know that. And I’m not ashamed anymore. But even losing feels good, knowing we gave it our all and fought with integrity.” Salima was being honest – she didn’t sound torn up over the outcome of the battle, only pensive, like she, too, was wondering what would come next. “I’m not sad that we lost – it means we have the opportunity to come back stronger next time. Another second chance.”

She smiled at him and he was struck, not for the first time, by how remarkable a person she was.

“There’s something to be said for those,” he said, subconsciously angling his body towards her own. His fingers twitched by his side as he fought the urge to hold her hand. The way her eyes flashed downward at the movement, before bouncing back up, made him think, again, that she was reading his mind. “What will you do now?”

“Well,” she began slowly, like she was distracted. “Mr. Dickinson asked us to stay on for some exhibition matches before the finals and we agreed.” She turned fully towards him and met his gaze. If she saw any relief there, she didn’t say anything about it. “After that, home I think. Then back on the road.”

Ray nodded. His thoughts were racing, jumping over one another to be at the forefront of his mind. His chest felt tight, like his heart was expanding with every beat to fill it entirely. Salima was right in front of him, eyeing him curiously – if she took a step forward she’d be in his arms. She looked like she was expecting him to say something.

“Ray…”

“About second chances…” It came out in a rush.

Her head tilted. For all that she looked curious, she also looked like she knew.

Ray took a breath and reached out to grasp her hand. A blush spread over Salima’s cheeks, so dark it was visible in the dim glow of the streetlights.

“I’m glad we got ours.”

“Me too, Ray,” she said and curled her fingers around his. She searched his gaze for a second. Then, apparently content with what she found, smiled broadly. “It sounds silly, but when we met, it was like…” She trailed off, struggling with the words. Or maybe expecting him to finish for her, say what he’d set out to say.

“Like it was meant to be,” he said, without hesitation. A warm, fluttery feeling was building in his chest.

Salima nodded, and said, “I could tell you thought the way I thought and felt the way I felt.”

She wasn’t pulling her hand away. If anything she seemed altogether closer, encompassing his entire field of vision, more engaging than anything beyond. Their breaths mingled in a misty cloud between them – the night was unseasonably cool, but Ray felt nothing but warmth.

“Are we feeling the same way now?” he asked.

“That depends on why you asked me here, tonight.”

She was watching him again, in that patiently expectant way he’d come to treasure.

He took a deep breath.

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Salima’s answering smile was the best one yet. He had just enough time to register the way it made her eyes crinkle at the edges, before she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She let go of his hand so she could fully embrace him, cheek to cheek.

“I’d love that, Ray,” she whispered, the brush of her breath sending a shiver down his spine.

Ray hugged her back and it was like the universe snapped into alignment. It was strange and wonderful to realize that every twist and turn since their first accidental rendezvous on the bridge, had led to this moment. He chuckled softly and buried a smile in her hair.

“What?” Salima giggled, pulling back so she could look him in the eye.

Relief mingled with Ray’s amusement when he answered: “I’m really glad you didn’t stand me up this time.”

#I don't think this turned out like I originally thought it would #Still mostly okay with it?#Enough to post it lol #Think it's one of those chapters I'll look at six months from now and like a lot better #It's cute tho and I said I'd finish by the end of 2022 so here goes nothin #beyblade #raysal #azrfic #azikarue #azikarue394 #mayblade 2022 #gonna post the free day today too

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shazzeaslightnovels · 1 year

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Sword Oratoria 14

Author: Fujino Omori

Illustrator: Kiyotaka Haimura

Label: GA Bunko

Release Date: 14 March 2023

My Score: 4/5

English Release: This series is currently being released in English by Yen-Press under the title of Is it Wrong to Try to Pick up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria.

This volume opens with the news that Finn, Gareth, and Riveria have reached level 7 together at last. There’s a big celebration at the Familia home and the three of them and Loki reminisce about the past. This volume is essentially a flashblack volume as we learn about how the Loki Familia got it’s start.

I thought this was a great breather volume in a series that desperately needs more breather volumes. It was fun seeing younger versions of the trio and how they have changed since then. Riveria has changed the most. Rather than being a ‘mother’ in this volume, she’s more of a ‘daughter’. We meet her as she desperately wants to escape her forrest and see the world but her father, the king, forbids it. Her best friend, Aina, acts as her ‘mother’ and is the ‘mother’ that Riveria will become. Aina is such a weird character because she seems like she’s such an important part of Riveria’s life but I don’t think Riveria has once mentioned her prior to this volume. I guess it makes sense when you consider that Riveria wouldn’t talk about her past much to the younger characters who tend to take on the POVs of this series but it made their relationship harder to invest in and care about. But, due to something I’m going to talk about in a little bit, I do think Aina was one of the more interesting inclusions in this volume.

Overall, I thought this was a good volume and I enjoyed reading it but I’m not sure that it was necessary. I don’t think it really added much to the characters, aside from maybe Riveria, and it didn’t seem to contribute anything to the plot, aside from the levelling up of the trio, which could have happened in any volume, and maybe something with Aina. Still, this was a fun, breezy volume that’s worth the read for any Danmachi fan.

Now, Aina. So this volume came out in two editions in Japan: the normal edition, which featured younger versions of the characters on the cover, and the special edition, which featured the trio in their present age and contained a special short story. I like this series enough that I splurged on the special edition and I’m glad I did because the short story provides additional context for Aina’s existance and gives her story more closure. Given that these short stories aren’t usually included in the English release, I thought I’d go ahead and summarise the important bits here so click away if you want to avoid SPOILERS.

SPOILERS START

So, Aina escaped the forest with Riveria and ends up travelling with the burgeoning Loki Familia for years while they get stronger and make their way to Orario. She forms friendships with Finn and Gareth but never joins the Loki Familia and we know she’s not with them in the present day so what happened to her? Annoyingly, the main volume doesn’t answer that question but the short story does.

It reveals that Aina’s health steadily declined after leaving the forest and it gets to a point where she can no longer journey with them. Riveria leaves her behind in a village where she will be safe and swears to find a cure for Aina’s illness so that they can travel together again. Years pass. Aina has a daughter - a half-elf with brown hair called Eina. She tells a young Eina about Riveria as she waits for Riveria to fulfill her promise.

This reveal made me want to reread all of the volumes in the series to see whether Eina ever mentioned Riveria. I think she might of? I’m almost positive that Riveria has never mentioned Eina but I wonder... The reveal makes Aina’s inclusion in this volume make a lot more sense and it’s about the only thing in this volume that I could see having a pay-off in a future volume. I hope it does.

It’s a shame this short story is only included in the limited edition beause it really elevates the story and gives it more weight and a better conclusion. Hopefully, it gets included in the English release.

SPOILERS END

I wish I could say that I am once again caught up with this series but the first Shouhenshuu (? I think this is how it’s romanized but It’s a short story collection) volume was just released and I’m obviously going to have to read it soon.

#danmachi #Sword Oratoria #fujino omori #Kiyotaka Haimura #4 stars #2023 releases #April 2023 #ga bunko

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fingfamily-blog-blog · 1 year

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A Busy 36 Hours

From Friday morning, Novermber 25th to Saturday 3 pm, I had a very busy time. First was a presentation to the Geography Department about my essay structure ideas. The second was conducting tests for a group of doctoral students. The third was making a Thanksgiving presentation to a group of students called Access America. More on all those shortly. But the piece de resistance was leaving the house at 10:45 pm Friday in order to catch a bus to the Tengger Caldera, which contains Mt. Bromo. The Bromo-Tengger-Semeru National Park is widely referred to as a must-see place. I've seen pictures of it, and they are kind of unreal. The Tengger Caldera is a massive collapsed volcano which has spawned 4 separate volcano cones since its collapse. I've seen Yellowstone, and I've seen the Aso Caldera on Kyushu, Japan. So I was looking forward to seeing Bromo etc. But at 10 pm, I was considering staying home. Who wants to leave their house on a Friday night with no expectation to sleep and to return home the following afternoon exhausted? Well, I suppose some people look forward to such circumstances, but I'm guessing few of them are 57-years-old. I was going to miss the USA v. England World Cup match! And I just didn't feel like I wanted to endure what I would have to to see this place. But my inner-traveler prevailed. I gave up my night's sleep, and added to the strain of the other efforts (more on that later) and got to the bus and began what is a three-hour journey to the Caldera Sunrise Point. I learned more about that journey in the daylight on the way home, but going in, I encountered 5 separate parts of the trip. First was from Malang to Tumpang, the cushiest part of the travel. We were in a big bus, smooth ride, everyone in a good mood. In Tumpang we switched to Jeeps and various assorted 4-wheel-type vehicles. I got into the front seat of a longer one, with 6 students in the back, on benches. Most held only 4 or 5. These vehicles were made for way off-roading, but I never bothered to imagine what that off-roading would look and feel like. First, we took the road up, up, up, through winding forests. Then we went down, down, down, on more broken and slickly-wet pavement. Then we were off-road in a way I've never been. Absolute darkness, plus a white-out fog all around, and the driver kept chugging ahead over abrupt grassy hillocks, around swimming pool sized puddles, of at least two feet depth, and through wide open spaces of compact mud and rutted tracks. It was like a roller-coaster ride. I kept hearing Bob Dylan in my head, "After a rockin', reelin', rollin' ride, we wound up on the downtown side." I was thankful that I was sitting in the front. One of our students had to stop his Jeep and exit out the back to vomit into the night. Then we went back up hill again, steep, slow, and surrounded by night. We arrived at our location with about 90 minutes before sunrise - too much. I didn't know where we were in relation to the caldera, but we were close. We hung out, trying to stay warm. We were at alpine altitude, and several of my students wanted me to admit that the temperatures were like winter. Although I was not warm by any definition, I assured them that this temperature was like a regular November day in the northern USA, and that winter was significantly colder 24-hours per day. I'm sure they wished otherwise, so they could say they'd felt it. But most of them shivered to think that they might have to spend 3 full months of their lives freezing worse than at the sunrise point of Mt. Bromo. And by sunrise point, what I mean is the place where thousands gather daily to watch the light come down over the caldera. Easily 1000 Jeeps jockeyed up to and around the peak area, carrying approx. 5000 people. At least 700 of them were with us at one of the sunrise points. And I'd like to say it was bothersome - it WAS - a travesty of nature abused by tourism. But when the light started to open up on the caldera, there was nothing else for me. I took pictures in the darkness, of the stars and Mars shining above. I took pictures of the slivers of orange light to the east. I took gray-blue pics of the fog that hangs under the peaks of the volcanoes. I wandered up and down the path along the sunrise point and I took at least 45 photos in one hour. Some of them reveal the spectacular nature of the place. I've been to Canyonlands and Arches in south-eastern Utah. I've been to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. A silly, subjective and relative comparison, but the Tengger Caldera is, in and of itself better than any one thing at either of those places. I can't compare it to the Grand Canyon, because the Grand Canyon is about 30-times bigger than the Caldera. When the light reveals the ridges of the lava flows from the various eruptions, it's like looking at a super-double-dog-gigantic Yayoi Kusama pumpkin, as the fog moves around the basin of the caldera, supplemented by the steam rising from the active Bromo crater. The scale is astounding. After the daylight filled the caldera, we drove down into the basin, and looked up at the Kusama cones, deeply-ridged, covered in light and dark greens, shaded by the shifting light and cloud cover. The floor of the basin is ash and cinder and one knows that beneath one's feet is a massive volcano the size of Manhattan island. The students were having a great time, taking pictures of themselves, and I tried to take it easy because my previous 30 hours had been so hectic. But then they told me I could climb the Mt. Bromo crater and look inside its roiling furnace. I'm guessing that climb was about 1000 of the steepest steps I've ever taken. I'm in shape, but I was sweating and breathing heavily with that effort and I could tell by my labored breathing, a kind of asthmatic wheezing, that the Jeep-exhaust, the ashen-dust and the unrelenting schedule were taking their toll on me. But I didn't stop. I made it to the top and loved every minute of it, looking down again, but much more closely on two of the cones of the caldera, listening to the volcano boil below, watching the steam accumulate hundreds of feet above me, while I looked down a hundred feet into a burning hell. This was nature at its most compelling. Honestly, like with Ubud, Bali, I felt that I had stepped out of time altogether, and wished I didn't have to step back in. Much more to say, but my wife and younger son are coming to Java next month, and now I have a good reason to endure that 6-hour round-trip journey again, for the asynchronous unreality of its features. Check out my Instagram (dselbyfing or bugs pacino) for a couple of dandy photos. The Geography Dept. session was like so many other of my heralded public appearances on campus, more hype than substance. I thought - again, why do I allow myself such "thoughts"? - that I'd be speaking to teachers. While there were 3 teachers there, the majority of the participants were students, and ones who appeared forced to be there. Not a good audience. And, as I've said before, they brought me here to help with academic writing on various levels, but every time I offer a different take on academic writing (which they ARE NOT succeeding at) I get frowns and "but that's not the way we do it" gobbledy-gook. So I let that drop off my back like water on a duck, etc. The proctoring tests was really just a hassle. I don't know how much I've said on this subject, but the IELTS test is made to bamboozle the students, made to fail them, created to guide them in the wrong direction and blame them for it. But that's what I did, judge them by impossible criteria, and undermine their confidence - exactly the opposite of EVERYTHING I stand for as a teacher. But I was relieved of some of my duties there because I had my Thanksgiving presentation to make. For that, I had to walk across campus at 1 pm - and it's rainy season. And the rain started falling, and the lightning centered right over head, and the thunder was almost simultaneous with the lightning. In a matter of moments I was soaked, and scared shitless, running from one useless cover to the next, splashing my feet in 5-inch puddles, water running down my back and shoulders because my umbrella is too small. I forced myself to carry on and get to my destination, to be a professional, and that worked out, but I spent the next two hours speaking, taking questions, and eating a faux-Thanksgiving meal, in my sodden clothes. So, I said it has been a busy period of time. I'm pretty wrecked now and expect to fall into my second head-cold here in Malang. But I feel good too. These are the experiences I wanted to have. I've said as much before. Even the bad stuff has value. And there was more good than bad in the last 36 hours.

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broomswept-thoughts · 2 years

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Feeling really stressed, kinda hungry, don’t know what to do... Kinda want chips. Maybe I’ll eat olives? Feeling stressed, stomach hurty. Feeling really stressed actually about the Vandebilt interview, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Ugh, stomach hurty. Stomach hurty. I’m really anxious about the interview, like I loved talking with Raymond about his experiences at the school, it sounds like such a great and awesome school and I get the Good Vibes from it (to be fair, I’ve always felt good vibes from Vanderbilt since I went to the very first informational session two years ago. Actually three years ago, when I got rejected from their summer MSTP program). I really love the mentorship aspect, and how the classes seem to be so focused on ensuring that everyone gets a quality education without shreking them overtime with stress that can be prevented. I really like how genuine and supportive the school and curriculum and admin and just people in general seem, and it feels just like Vassar in that sense. Like yes, Vassar has its faults, but the feeling that people genuinely care (even if they might be disconnected, etc.) and that people are there to learn because they’re interested in learning, is something that I really admire a lot.

But while I’m super happy that Vanderbilt seems like a school that would be a good fit for me and my personality, I’m now at this stage of “oh shit, better not fuck it up! I’m getting expectations, so I better not fuck it up!!!” feeling. Like I really want to get in now, more than I felt about Emory at least, and maybe Mount Sinai. I mean, it’s not like I have interview invites from any other schools (which is also, in itself, something that makes me want to freak out and lose my shit entirely but), but also I just really love how it’s like a Super Pass Fail school too. Like clinicals being P/F? That’s kinda amazing AF, like I love that. The only school right now that I would really consider (within the schools that I applied that are around the Vanderbilt calibre or lower) that I would go to even if clinicals weren’t P/F (which is basically everywhere) and if preclinicals were graded too, would be UCLA just because the research is exactly what I want, the location is great, and it has a lot of clinical opportunities in the nearby vicinity that I’m very intrigued by. Damn, what a decision if I had the chance to choose between these two schools. But for now? Really not an option in mind. And this is also why second look day is a thing too. Anywhooo.

I guess a part of why I’m also very very excited/ anxious about getting in is the possibility of being able to quit this job early. I really hate being in this lab so much. I feel sick with the idea of staying here for longer than I have to; I gave myself May at latest, but if I, by some actual miracle, got into Vanderbilt’s MSTP program, then I would genuinely consider leaving in March (to give myself 3 more months of a break and go to Japan for an extended period of time). Of course, the biggest caveat would be the stupid lease, but I would try to probably negotiate to leave or at least paying a lower amount. And worst case scenario, I would have to just pay the full price, which would be ass but I would take that into account in considering how much to save I guess. And I guess I would save like a manic lol, but also I have money saved that I just never used for med school apps. So there’s that, at least, which would cover maybe 2 months of rent? I just really really really hate this job with a burning passion, so if I can leave earlier, I’ll be happier. And I would love to be accepted as soon as possible, and get out. I just can’t, I really want to leave pretty badly, I’m so done with this work environment.

But anywho, that’s the best best best case scenario. Leaving this lab in March after being accepted in December? Literally a godsend, I would faint from relief. And I would be able to withdraw my application from at least several schools too, which would feel reaaaal nice. Only several though, like I would keep the ones that I want to stay around for location reasons, at least (like UMass and Rochester probably). But I would def take out UCinncinati and UAB... yep. And anyway, this is the best case scenario. More likely that I would either get an acceptance late (February, maybe even off of a waitlist in April or May) or just straight rejected too. So there’s that.

I mean, in the beautiful world where I am presuming I would be accepted somewhere, the worst case scenario would be getting in somewhere in June and starting somewhere right away. So the worst case scenario would still involve me being in lab but leaving before August probably. I would hate that, because it would mean I wouldn’t be able to go back to Japan? But I would still leave lab before August, thankfully. Which, in any case, would be less than a year. So thank fuck for that.

But anyway, I’m in general just kinda stressed for the interview in the sense that, I really, really, really want to get into Vanderbilt. I could totally see myself being there, and also being happy as a medical and MSTP student there too. It feels like a good fit, and it makes me scared af to think of being absolutely devastated if I don’t get in. Like whew, that would be some major disappointment times. But I guess if that happens, then I’ll just eat yummy food, cry, and then rinse and go back to work lol. Maybe I’ll have another interview or something by that point too, idk. It’s just a weird, stressful time to have no other interviews and truly living life on the edge in a way that I simply do not want lol. It makes me extremely nervous and afraid of wtf is going to happen.

Gosh darn. I just want to be accepted and then get tf out. I’m so done with this place. I just feel anxiety and upset and frustration and trepidation and just bad feelings. I know this upcoming week won’t be as bad, but I’m still kind of really not okay with how I’m living my life as it is now. Sigh...

Anywho, no one from this lab has also been accepted into Vanderbilt so ig that may be a first. A few have gotten into UCSF though, so that’s kinda wild ngl. But tbh, no one has really gone anywhere like the tippy top level places recently (which is fine, not to knock on the postbacs), but I wonder if it’s because mentoring has been straight trash as of late. Who knows. I want to succeed, I don’t care. But I know it’s because, not this lab, but the previous experiences I’ve had prior that will be helping me through because goddaaaaaamn I’m not even going to deal with this place longer than I have to or more closely that I have to. Jeez.

Anyway... my first order of business is to do the best that I can in the interview. Thankfully, it sounds like it’ll be more chill and just a conversation... So hopefully I can just be a chill person, be interested in what the other person has to say and just enjoy having someone who is also probably interested in me too! So we love that, semi-requited love time. I think that’ll be nice, honestly. I’ll brush up on the research that I wrote about, my why medicine and why MD/PhD essays, and make an outline of what I’ll say for the biggest questions (which are those plus why Vanderbilt). When I have those down and done, I think the rest will be more relaxed and just an interesting conversation to have. I feel like I’ve been trained by conversations from Trevor as well as with Tammy and Quey on just wack and deep conversations, so I think if I’m relaxed and don’t overthink it, it’ll be more fun than horrible, judgement time. I think it can and should be more interesting, because I’ll finally be able to understand the school in a way that I can’t get from constantly scouring reddit and r/premed and sdn. So it’ll be really valuable and good info that I can glean too.

I don’t think it’ll be bad, it’s just always scary before the interview/ presentation/ performance. But I’m genuinely excited for the interview and learning more about Vanderbilt. I’m really, really excited, honestly, and I think that the excitement and anxiety are kinda glomping together into one so that makes it slightly unpleasant? But also I want to keep the good vibes and expectations for at least an interesting first interview going forward.

Worst case scenario, the interview is an absolute disaster, I can’t talk, the interviewers’ expressions are :/ or like :( or >:( (idk how tf but still), and I get rejected right away in December. It is what it is, I’ll wait around for other interviews if I may get any, and continue doing what I’ve been doing for the past year plus and just tolerating my workplace. I can also look into other jobs (!) that will excite me and bring me some peace in comparison to this hellscape. Always good and nice to look forward to the end of my time here with the added bonus of having money. I might not be insured for a few months, but I’ll make the most of the insurance that I *do* have and so that’s why I’ll stay until January at the very earliest (and honestly for a bit longer just to get my finances in check and collect my sweet sweet stipend moneys). February would be the absolute earliest I would/ could leave, I think, since I currently have enough for just 2 months worth of rent in my med school savings for apps. This will also be a very happy problem to have too lol. And also I need to be in the country at least long enough to attend 2nd visit day (or I guess the 1st visit day bc no interviews in person lol). So on the off chance that I only get into Vanderbilt, then I would really like to still visit Nashville and check out the area. I’d have no other options lol, but it would still be very important for me to go. And hopefully it would be in March, and that’s why the actual realistically earliest time I would leave lab/ for Japan is in March I think. Which would give me maybe 2.5 months to be in Japan. Which isn’t that bad, I could actually celebrate my birthday in Japan and be there in the spring for the first time in my living memory. Wow, that would be so beautiful, I would love to do that. I’ve never actually celebrated my birthday in Japan before, I. Yes, that would be so lovely, I would love that so so so much. Anywho, that’s the dream, to get into a place, be able to finish viewing the school, and be in Japan by April. That would be the serious dream. And then maybe be in Japan for as long as I possibly can before I have to pack up and move to wherever (Nashville, if I’m going there) in maybe the 1st or 2nd week of June. Speedrun through seeing my friends, preparing to move, all that jazz, potentially sneak in a visit to New York, and then jumping off to who knows where. And then starting my lifetime journey of a MD/PhD in June. Holyyyy shitaki.

Now, this is basically my dream plan on the off chance that I get in (and only get in) to Vanderbilt, which I seriously woul dhave 10000000% no problem with at all. If I got into another school or whatnot, then. This would be very different. For example, if said school started in August or did XYZ, whatever, then it would be different. Of course, not something I can control or predict, even less than with Vanderbilt. But also just another potential wrench into this plan. But I would love love LOVE to go back to Japan in the spring, that would be an absolute dream. I want to celebrate my birthday with oomama, I would want that so much. And I would want to see the cherry blossoms in Japan. I think I’d cry. I would want that so much.

Maybe even if a different school had 2nd look day or whatever in April, I would choose to miss it if I’m in Japan. Like this opportunity to be there is just too precious to me, unless it was like to Harvard or UCLA or something, i would just say yolo, I’m either A) not going and/or b) def doing it remote, please and thanks. Honestly, if I get into Vanderbilt, a lot lot LOT of things would feel easier and I can just chillax. But yeah, that’s kind of a big ask lol. Because I’m asking to get accepted ASAP and set up my life ASAP too. I can dream lol.

But yeah, I mean. If I can go back to Japan even in May, then that would be lovely. Maybe if I get rejected from Vanderbilt but accepted to a place that starts in August, I could leave in May like I had planned anyway. It would still be earlier than when I started, yes, but I’m not going to care much at that point because I have my reasons and they’re valid and this job isn’t a contracted position for 2 years. I have done ENOUGH. They’ll manage or figure something out, and I shall very leave lol.

I just want to 1. get into a MD/PhD program and 2. take time off to not be hell-bent on applications and being stressed and pressured and strained to the max by this lab that can’t manage itself. And ideally 3. go back to Japan. These are what I’m looking for! And I want to get into Vanderbilt so much. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be and if not, then that’s that. I can’t predict if I’ll be accepted in the first wave or even at all, but it sure would be nice... Sigh. I just feel the sinking preemptive feeling of a waitlist, or a rejection. I’m just so used to having seen those for undergrad, and I’m kinda scared of that sadness and disappointment. But no one will know anything until the very end, at least. Maybe I’ll just be waitlisted in December, I can take that. Or rejected, which will be sad but maybe it’ll mean that something else will come up, or I’m meant to focus more on my work or clinical volunteering or whatnot, or just not concern myself with Vanderbilt anymore. It will be okay. Things and life will continue to happen, even if they are very not what I have planned or have originally wanted, and it shall all be okay. And worrying about that now won’t help me at all either. When I should be going to sleep now anyway.

What else is on my mind? I just want to go to Vanderbilt a lot, it’s sky-rocketed to be one of my top choices, especially now that I’ve gotten an interview and it feels more real. I’m anticipating for next Thursday (aaa it’s next Thursday). I want to read up on more of the time restricted feeding paper and just study more papers and stuff so I will be in absolute tip top shape intellectually. :) And maybe some podcasts! That’d be pretty awesome. I want to be SUBMERGED in science this Halloween lmfao. And practice a bit more, record myself and get around to actually doing that, and just make sure I know enough that I can say and be exactly who I want to portray myself, which is someone who is kind, thoughtful, reflective, and also just a dumb nerd who likes learning about science and about people’s stories very much! These are what make me me, and what I feel happiest about my personality and who I am. These are traits that I’m proud of, and even if I’m not the most unique or special person to exist, I think I’m someone that can help make the world a better place, and I think the resources and communities at Vanderbilt can really help me to achieve that and find insights that will nuance and broaden what I can do to help people through human connection and medicine. Ayyooo that’s a pretty solid sentence lmfao. But it’s also how I genuinely feel. And I want to go through with that, because I feel this strongly and I want them to know who I am, and why I would be good for their school and also for the other students, current and future ones, at Vanderbilt too. It sounds rich to say that I can make people or schools *better* through my own sheer existence, but I think I can definitely bring up reflections, points, and personality that can influence people to think in different ways too. And the same for myself. So anywho, tldr, I’m excited for my interview, and there are some things I want to brush up on as well as just immerse myself in, but hopefully this chill week will give me the time to prep for that in the way that will satisfy me. And I think it will go okay, if not well. :) I hope also my passion for astrocytes can make an appearance; I hope one of the faculty people they choose will be someone who does astrocyte stuff, that would make me so happy haha.

#reflection

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sunwoo-hoo · 3 years

Text

↣ treasure reaction to s/o bringing niece/nephew to the dorms

↳ a/n: hello lovelies! here is another treasure reaction! i’m sorry that it took so long, treasure usually takes me a little longer to do so keep that in mind for future requests. but anyway i hope you like it! i got inspiration from t-map episode 39. i hope you don’t mind i made the kids various ages so that it wasn’t the same scenario. xx

(also this was reuploaded since it wasn’t showing up in my tags)

↳ requested? yes

↳ genre: fluffiest of fluff

↳ send in your request here

↳ word count: 1.5k

↳ treasure x fem reader

「 choi hyunsuk 」

you told him you had to cancel the date you had planned together to watch your 5 year old niece

he recommended bringing her over to the dorms so that you could watch her together

he was ecstatic when you showed up with the little girl’s hand in yours

“oh my goodness aren’t you so cute?!” he gushed squatting down to get on her eye level

she hid her behind your legs in embarrassment

the day was spent playing various games like hide and seek easing your niece into the unfamiliar surroundings

at one point when she settled down watching television hyunsuk couldn’t help but look at you saying

“i can’t wait til we have a child of our own one day”

「 park jihoon 」

you had brought your nephew over to bake some brownies together hoping to surprise jihoon after practice

but when he told you practice was cancelled for the day he decided to join in on baking

he tried his best to make your 6 year old nephew laugh but he was not having it

it wasn’t until jihoon accidentally tripped over some flour falling to the floor butt first is when your nephew started to laugh uncontrollably

you couldn’t help but put your hand over your mouth trying not to laugh in front of him

“i’m glad you think my misery is funny” he quipped rubbing his behind

「 kanemoto yoshinori 」

it was a rainy day when you went to visit yoshi at the dorms with your young niece

she had just turned 4 and yoshi wanted to meet her finally coming back from treasure’s recent comeback

walking into the dorms he had the biggest smile on his face when he bend down to greet her

“hello! [niece name] it’s so nice to meet you, you can call me yoshi-oppa” grabbing her little hand

she smiled up at him looking enjoying the new acquaintance she had just met

yoshi then stood back up placing a kiss on your cheek

“she’s so adorable”

「 kim junkyu 」

you were your nephew’s best friend being the cool aunt he always loved hanging out with you

when he heard you were in a relationship with an idol he was a tad bit jealous since he knew he would be seeing less of you

until you decided that your nephew should meet junkyu bringing him to the dorms one afternoon

when you walked in junkyu couldn’t help but smile at your nephew’s cuteness

“you must be [nephew name] i’m your aunt’s special friend” he exclaimed proudly

junkyu decided to show off his singing charms to your nephew who couldn’t help but be in awe of his voice

the rest of the day was spent together singing karaoke

「 takata mashiho 」

this wasn’t the first time mashiho had met your 7 year old nephew

in fact you were convinced your nephew liked mashiho more than you when he basically begged you to take him to see mashiho one day

walking in the dorms mashiho ran up to your nephew giving him the biggest of hugs

“hey! [nephew name] i’ve missed you! guess what? i got the nintendo switch all set up for us” he cheered

your nephew practically ran at a inhuman speed to the console mashiho going after him

you couldn’t help but smile looking at your two favorite people in the world having a wonderful time together

「 yoon jaehyuk 」

it was busy afternoon running errands with your young niece

jaehyuk had texted you asking you to come over

when you told him that you had your young niece with you that’s when he texted back in less than in a minute

telling you that he would babysit her until you were finishing up your errands for the day

when you went to the dorms you were shocked on what he had set up there was different types of games, books, & snacks

when he greeted you with a peck on the lips you couldn’t help but smile at the effort he put in

“don’t worry about a thing [name] we’re going to have lots of fun i promise” he grinned

「 hamada asahi 」

it all happend during a snow day, you were taking care of your niece while your sibling was out of town for a business trip

deciding to get out of the house you told asahi you were coming over to the dorms since it was treasure’s break

he decided to draw out a welcome sign for her so that she would be surprised when you showed up

walking in the dorm shaking your shoulders trying to get rid of snow that’s when you saw the welcome sign

your niece smiled at the cute drawn characters as asahi bend down to give her the piece of paper

“this is for you [niece name] i hope you like it” he smiled

the rest of the day was spent by the fire enjoying hot chocolate with marshmallows

「 bang yedam 」

when yedam told you he wanted to meet your nephew you were kind of against it

partly because your nephew was still very young barely able to walk on his own but yedam persisted

giving in you brought your nephew to the dorms one day

walking in yedam ran straight towards you in awe of the young child in your arms

“he’s so charming” he gushed squishing his little cheeks

as you walked into the living your room you sat down on the couch putting your nephew on the floor so that he could crawl around

he then crawled to yedam’s guitar playing with the strings laughing at the funny noise it was making

picking up the guitar yedam exclaimed proudly

“how about i sing a song for you? would you like that?”

「 kim doyoung 」

you were picking up your 5 year old nephew from school wanting to see doyoung since his dorms was on the way back home

he was surprised to see you but even more surprised when you brought your nephew as well

since it was a beautiful day out you all decided to go to the small park behind the dorms

all three of you decided to play a game of soccer while doyoung was giving your nephew some pointers

“your doing great! [nephew name] but try it this way”

you smiled at the wholesome interaction while your nephew looked up at him in admiration

doyoung gave him the biggest cheer when your newphew made his first goal

“see! i knew you could do it” he exclaimed proudly showing off his cute smile that you loved so much

「 watanabe haruto 」

one of the most important things to haruto was family

so when your sibling finally had your first niece he was thrilled not only for you but for your sibling as well

after a couple of weeks you finally decided to bring her to meet haruto while he was at the dorms

walking in with the baby in your arms he looked down at her tearing up

he couldn’t help it, as it reminded him of his little sister back home all the way in japan

when you gently passed her over to haruto he smiled

looking up at him you wiped away his tears as he finally said

“i think it’s time you meet my family [name] your important to me.. i want them to meet the woman i want to spend the rest of my life with” he vowed

「 park jeongwoo 」

it was a rare day when jeongwoo had a day off from all of his idol duties

so you were shocked when he said he wanted it to spend his day off with you and your niece

the minute you showed up to the dorms your niece went wild running all over the place

she was still at the age where she was just full of energy and there was no way you could stop it anytime soon

jeongwoo ran after her trying to catch her

“come here baby!” he giggled making funny animal noises trying to get her attention

finally scooping her up he gave her a small kiss on the cheek

you pouted until he saw your face giving you a small kiss on your pouty lips

“don’t worry babe your still my number 1 but [niece name] is coming for your spot” he teased as you lightly punched his arm playfully

「 so junghwan 」

being the youngest of the group he was the most comfortable around young children

you decided that he should meet your niece for the first time after a couple of months of dating

one sunny day coming to the dorms he noticed you walking in with her as he was playing a video game

he shyly walked over to her bending down to her eye level

“hello, [niece name] you look very pretty today, it’s so nice to meet you” he announced looking at her pink tutu and her small tiara

she giggled pulling off her tiara giving it to junghwan

he put it on top of his head confidently

“do i look like a prince?” he asked doing a pose

she shyly nodded

the rest of the day was spent playing dress up and having tea time together

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#treasure reactions #treasure scenarios #treasure imagines #treasure x reader #hyunsuk x reader #jihoon x reader #yoshi x reader #junkyu x reader #mashiho x reader #jaehyuk x reader #asahi x reader #yedam x reader #doyoung x reader #haruto x reader #jeongwoo x reader #junghwan x reader #[mine 🌸]#yg treasure #treasure

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skiyoosmi · 3 years

Text

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines #post break-up heartaches

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part I) - Chapter 04

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words: 9.832K

Authors note: In this one I start to explore more of the magical bond between reader and wanda, and well, it will be very much about that from this one on. I need to know if you all prefer longer (and more detailed) chapters about the reader's years at hogwarts like this one (which has been divided into three parts) or if you prefer the pace of the first three chapters (with only the relevant events of the whole year). Enjoy your reading.

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

It's very different having Nebula and Gamora at home.

You were used to having only Tony and Jarvis, and occasionally your father, but now that you have your friends sleeping in the next two rooms, you always have someone your own age to talk to and laugh about the same things.

It took a while for things to normalize, especially the first week. Thanos was furious about the letter that Gamora sent him, saying that they would live with you now. He showed up in the yard of your house the next day, and you have never seen your father so enraged.

They talked for many minutes, and then Thanos demanded to speak to his daughters. Nebula was trembling as she walked out the door, but your father stayed by their side during the entire conversation.

When they went back inside, Thanos left. Two days later, your father signed the adoption papers.

You were surprised when you discovered that Nebula was as passionate about magical mechanics as Tony, so it didn't take long for it to become commonplace for her to disappear into the basement of the house along with your brother, both of them wrapped up in some strange invention. You and Gamora usually spent most of your time in the backyard, she reading some Arithmanian stuff you didn't understand, while you played quidditch, or the two of you tended the garden. Mantis also came to visit you in the summer, and Groot was the size of a small dog now.

You exchanged many letters with Wanda during the vacations. And when Iron brought another one of them a little after dinner, on the antepenultimate week of vacation while you and Gamora were in your room talking about the coming year, she acquired a mischievous look on her face.

"What do you guys talk about so much?" She teased as you took the letter from Iron's beak. You shrugged, feeling your face heat up, and thought it better to look at the paper in your hands than Gamora's face.

“I don’t know,. Everything i think”. You answer.

Gamora is silent as you read the letter. You smile, because it is as if you hear Wanda's voice in the words you read.

"Can I ask you something?" Gamora speaks next, you make a noise with the little one in agreement, without taking your eyes off the paper. "Have you ever kissed anyone?

"What?" you ask in surprise, raising your eyes to her. "N-no."

Gamora's arms are crossed and she's sitting on the bed, and she raises her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Is that so?" She asks and you swallow dryly, confirming. Her expression softens. "I'm only saying that because a lot of people start dating in third grade."

You close the letter in your hands, placing it on the shelf beside you. Ignoring how the subject makes your stomach flip with nervousness, you rest your hands on your knee.

"Do you think we'll start dating too?" You ask shyly, and Gamora smiles, shrugging.

"Who knows?" She retorts. "I never thought about that either. But I do know that Pietro kissed Monica on the mouth after our leave vacation inside a cabin on the Hogwarts express."

"Are you for real?" You asked in surprise. "How did you find out about that?"

"Quill wrote to me last night." She says. "I forgot to tell you."

"Wow." You say.

"Yeah." She agrees. "Peter told me that Pietro turned red as a tomato, but kept smiling. I thought Wanda would tell you that."

You bit your tongue to avoid mentioning that you and Wanda don't talk about such things, and cleared your throat before shrugging.

"Maybe Pietro didn't say anything to her." You say. "I probably won't tell Tony when I have my first kiss."

"You're probably right." Gamora said casually. "But you're going to tell me, right? When you kiss someone, you need to tell me how to do it."

You laughed, walking over to Gamora.

"I promise I will." You say extending your pinky to her. She looks at you confused, "It's a pinky promise, haven't you ever sworn like that?"

"That's muggles' stuff." She comments with a smile, and you laugh.

"Yeah, my dad probably learned it from my mom." You say using your other hand to take Gamora's hand. "Come on, you put your finger like this, and then we swear."

Gamora laughed as she followed your commands, and then you repeated the promise. After you yawned, she bade you goodnight and went to her room.

You fought the urge to reread Wanda's letter, and threw yourself on the bed, not understanding why your brain was replaying Gamora's questions in your mind and you kept thinking of Wanda afterwards.

//-//

The Quidditch World Cup is happening this year, and you can hardly contain yourself with excitement.

You had been to the event a few times when you were younger, but now that you actually played quidditch it was a very different feeling.

Your favorite team was the Guardians of the Galaxy, who had played for England for many years, and were also your father's favorite team. Tony stopped liking them the first year, saying that they were losing too many games, but you knew it was because Steve Rogers was rooting for the Brooklyn Soldiers team and Tony was trying to impress him.

All your friends will be at the event, including many thousands of other witches from all over the world.

You have to wake up at dawn in order not to miss the time of the portal keys that have been scattered around the country by the Ministry of Magic, to prevent wizards from being seen disappearing into inappropriate places that could expose the magical world.

When you came down to the kitchen, everyone was already having breakfast. Your father kissed your forehead as he walked past you, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Finally awake, sleepyhead." Teased Tony when he saw you, you just yawned.

"Are we leaving already?" You asked sleepily, grabbing some toast.

"Yes, dear." Her father replied looking at his watch. "Get ready soon, or we'll miss the schedule."

You grumble in agreement, hurrying to get back to your room and take a shower.

When you are ready, and stretching as you walk to the outside of the house, Gamora joins you, a backpack on her back resembling yours.

"I can't wait to see the foreign wizards." She comments excitedly making you smile. Gamora didn't like the sport, and was far more excited to see the witches from the rest of the world than to watch the match.

"I bet there's going to be some Ilvermorny people's stall." You say as you catch up with your father, who was waiting next to Tony and Nebula. Jarvis waves goodbye to you from the doorway, and you begin walking toward the trail beyond the mansion grounds. "They are so show-offy."

Gamora laughs.

"I've never met anyone from the United States." She counters. "But some witches from Japan have been to my house."

You know that the mention of home or Thanos makes Gamora very uncomfortable, so you try to skirt around the subject.

"I guess Nurse Cho was from Mahoutokoro, huh?" You comment, and Gamora shrugs. "Thor had mentioned that during a class, I think."

"I wonder if the other schools are cool like Hogwarts?" She asks, and you smile.

"No place is like Hogwarts."

Gamora laughs, but agrees. You walk in silence for a few more minutes, and it is only when you reach an empty area that you stop.

"Here we are, people." Your father says next, slightly tired from the exercise. He waves for everyone to form a circle as he checks his watch. "Two minutes to go, children. Stand in position please."

There is a small cloth boot in the center of the circle, and you are not the least bit surprised because you know that portal keys are usually the most mundane things you can think of.

You all reach down and touch the boot with your fingertips. You smile at Tony who looks up at you. Two minutes later, you feel a tug, and everything spins around you. Taking a deep breath, you focus on controlling yourself as you are falling into the portal key. And then you land on the ground.

"Here we are." Your father says smiling beside you. You look to the side to see Gamora helping Nebula to stand up properly, as she had remarked that she gets a little queasy with this kind of magic. Tony throws an arm around your shoulders next.

"Ready to see the guardians lose, kid?" He teases causing you to let out a humorless laugh.

"You wish." You grumble pushing Tony lightly, who lets go as he laughs.

And then you start walking again, until you come to a place considerably noisier than where you were before.

The ministry seemed to have bypassed an area with low chains, and you notice the magical aura around the metal, signaling that everything was magically hidden.

There is a wizard in uniform at the entrance, and he collects the tickets before letting you pass into the hut area.

There are many tents of the most varied characteristics. You laugh in surprise when your gaze catches a conjuration exactly like a vacation castle, but much smaller in size. As you walk through the crowd, your father asks everyone to hold hands so as not to get lost as he guides you to the area where you would be staying.

Your father has rented a tent in a more private area of the place, and there are hardly any witches where you are. You like the silence, but you miss how much more fun the other place seems.

"The Rogers and the Barnes should be here by now I imagine." Your father comments as he waves his wand to open the cabin. You enter the room next, it is like a small winter home inside, very cozy.

"Yes, dad." Tony replies throwing his backpack on one of the couches. "I wrote Steve last night."

Howard grumbles in agreement, walking to the kitchen. You place your backpack on the floor next.

"Daddy, can I go look for Wanda and Pietro?" You ask and your father laughs, denying it.

"You didn't eat anything before you left, honey." He says turning around. "Eat something and then you can go look for them."

You grumble, but agree. While you are making some eggs, Steve's family arrives.

"Howard, you outdo yourself every year, my friend." Joseph Rogers comments as he enters the cabin. Your father smiles cheerfully as he hugs him in greeting, then greets Sarah, Steve's mother, with a kiss on the cheek. He ruffles Steve's hair and pats his arm, repeating the same gesture to Bucky, who follows behind.

" Is your father not here, James?" Howard asks next, and Bucky clears his throat.

"No, sir." He replies. "Since my sisters can't come, he took them to a music event in the muggle world. If you want my opinion, rock concerts are as cool as quidditch."

The comment makes Howard laugh in agreement, but Steve's family doesn't seem to understand very well.

Soon they were all around the room, talking animatedly about the most varied subjects. You exchanged a complicit look with Gamora and Nebula, and you took advantage of your father being involved in a conversation with Joseph to leave the cabin.

"Do you have any idea where Professor Lehnsherr has placed the tents?" Gamora asks you once you are outside and you look around.

"No." You reply. "Wanda just wrote that she and Pietro were going to be here too, but I don't even know if it's Magneto that's bringing them."

"We're just left to look then." Nebula concludes and you nod in agreement, starting to walk.

You walk back to the common tent area, looking around.

Gamora and Nebula are easily distracted by the amount of interesting things to see, and almost lose track of you when some witches from the Salem Institute hand them some exchange pamphlets.

It is only at the food stall that you finally find who you were looking for.

"My god, is that...?" You hear Gamora exclaim next to you in surprise. You know she was talking about Professor Lehnsherr, who is wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sunglasses and looks very well, and has a completely different posture than he usually has in class, but you are not looking at him anymore.

Your stomach is restless because you are looking at Wanda, wearing a black skirt with knee socks and boots, and a red jacket. She looks beautiful, and you are blushing.

Gamora waves to them from a distance, and it is Pietro who notices you guys first, waving back cheerfully while nudging Wanda on the shoulder. She blinks in confusion and then smiles when she sees you.

You think your legs have turned to jelly, but you continue walking toward her.

"It's so good to see you girls" Pietro exclaims happily as he hugs Gamora.

"Hi, Wanda." You greet with a half-hearted smile, but Wanda's face lights up and she jumps at you, hugging you tight, and making your heart soar. "It's good to see you too." You whisper humorously against her hair, and Wanda releases you with a reddened face, smiling widely.

"I missed you." She says to you shyly making you look away clumsily, but before you can add anything else, Pietro is greeting you as well, and Wanda does the same with your sisters.

"Hello everyone." Said a male voice next, and you stared at Professor Erik awkwardly. He didn't seem bothered by being approached by any of you, however, a hot dog in his hands.

"Hello, Professor Lehnsherr." You and your sisters said in unison, but the man had an almost friendly expression.

"Don't worry about being formal while we're here, girls." He says. "We're just sorcerers in here, looking for a little cheap entertainment."

You and Gamora exchange a look, not knowing exactly what to say next. Professor Erik sighs, and then looks at his children.

"You can go spend some time with the Starks, twins." He says making his kids let out excited exclamations. "Be back by the start time of the match, please. I don't want to lose sight of you in a place with so many people of unreliable origin."

You don't quite understand what "unreliable origin" means, but you don't question it, excited to spend some time with the Maximoffs.

After Erik gives them a few galleons to buy whatever snacks they want, you walk back to the cabin.

//-//

You spent the whole afternoon with all your friends in the cabin, playing magical games, practicing simple spells, and trying to guess the outcome of the match. When the first warning alarm sounded, you all let out a chorus of excitement.

You ran to your room, looking for the cheerleader accessories you had obtained, while ignoring the teasing Tony was throwing at you about the opponent team's sure victory.

He and the Rogers were all wearing blue and white scarves, bracelets and hats, which represented the colors of the Brooklyn Soldiers.

Your father was wearing a big red jacket with the symbol of a gold star, the team's mark. You gave him one of the buttons you brought.

Pietro was also rooting for the Soldiers, along with Nebula and Bucky, so you didn't try to lend any of your accessories to them.

Wanda was in the room when you put a blue scarf with gold accents around her neck.

"For you to support the team." You commented excitedly, without any idea that Wanda's flushed face was because the scarf smelled like you.

"Thanks." She said shyly, and you just nodded, holding some bottons on her shirt.

Gamora borrowed one of the hats you brought.

When you walked towards the stadium area, all the other spectators were leaving their tents and tents and going in the same direction, so the crowd was even bigger. You did your best not to get lost.

Once inside the iron structure, you felt someone nudge your shoulder.

"Pietro and I need to find Dad." Wanda said and you waved, but then frowned, nodding back.

"I think he found you first." You comment while watching Erik look at you as he enters the same iron corridor. He looks at your family and friends next for a moment, his expression serious. "See you after the game, right?"

"Of course." Wanda smiles before touching your arm lightly. You still feel the touch many moments later.

//-//

The match is absolutely incredible. It is even better because the guardians win with a remarkable difference when catcher Jean Gray captures the Snitch after the second half, the stadium vibrating in celebration.

It's a complete mess after that. There are fireworks, and a lot of noise. Even though they lost the match, all the Brooklyn Soldiers fans are so impressed with the incredible match that they join the celebrations.

You stumble out of the stadium between laughter, Gamora's arm around your shoulders as she laughs at the dance that your father and Joseph are doing on the way back.

Fans of the Guardians continued to light the celebratory fireworks, and there was a huge fireworks scarlet dragon streaking through the skies above your heads.

Your dad and the Rogers family go back to the cabin while you stay outside with Bucky and your friends, wanting to enjoy the rest of the fireworks display. You also want to see Wanda again.

"The Guardians are very excited, aren't they?" Bucky comments with a laugh, noticing an increase in the volume of the crowd's screams. You laugh and you look at the sky again.

When you blink, there is an explosion noise in the distance, so muffled by the other sounds that it makes you confused. Your friends don't seem to have heard, and you step forward, watching the crowd closely.

You see a lot of people laughing, and dancing, and it takes a minute for you to also notice those who are running.

"Guys." You call in confusion, and Gamora who was closest to you turns around with curiosity. "I think there is something wrong."

Another explosion occurs and this time everyone listens. The crowd in front seems to gradually realize that there is something wrong going on. And then the firework dragon in the sky is fading, considerably dimming the lighting.

Your father came out of the hut the next moment, a concerned look on his face, and the wand in his hands.

You feel a panic rising in the pit of your stomach when people start running and screaming, and you notice spells being cast from a distance. You were thinking it might be some kind of cheering team fight, but the possibility is completely ruled out when you notice the masked men in the crowd.

"Get your things now." Order your father out loud and then you are all moving back to the cabin, picking up all your belongings quickly. You hold the backpack tightly against your shoulders when you go out again, complete chaos around you. Your father, Joseph and Sarah lead you among the people, shouting that you need to get back to the portkey. You gasp in surprise when you feel a twinge behind your eyes, and you are struck by a vision of a forest. This little delay is enough to make you stay behind and lose sight of your family.

But you are not looking for them anyway. Your feet are spinning in the opposite position, and you are pushing people to run. You need to find Wanda.

//-//

You end up at the end of the camp, the tents far behind you. The sound of confusion drowned out by the distance. Feeling a new stab of pain in the head, your knees give way and your body lowers, while you raise your hands to your face, immediately being hit by a vision. This time you see a shadow of a tall figure, perhaps a man, standing in front of you. There is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth, and you want to get away, but there is something holding you back. When you blink, you're back the end of the camp.

You don't understand what's going on, and there is a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness in your chest, but you keep walking, crossing the magical chain and moving into the forest. You fall to the ground on your knees a moment later, intense pain all over your body. Gasping, you look up, only to see a green light form in the sky.

At first you thought it might be fireworks, but it was magic. The symbol of a hydra conjured in the clouds was beginning to move, and your entire body weighed.

You looked down, and your eyes caught a figure in the woods. It was a man, but he was too far away and you couldn't see his face. He had his wand raised to the sky, clearly being responsible for conjuring it up. Your head started to spin in pain, and you rested your hands on the ground to try to normalize your breathing, and then the man looked at you.

You felt your heart race when he started walking towards you, but then there were screams and footsteps, and he ran. A moment later, your father was kneeling beside you.

"Darling! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly raising his hands to your face looking for bruises. You sighed, still in pain. Only when the aurors of the ministry of magic raised their wands to the sky and made the mark disappear, you feel your body relieve immediately.

"I saw a man." You confessed breathlessly, and your father looked at you with confusion. But the wizards of the ministries seemed quite interested.

"Where, child?" Asked one of the aurors, you gasped slightly, feeling your body tremble a little.

"He went in that direction." You say pointing. "He was the one who conjured."

The woman nodded in understanding, and left after whistling for the rest of the Aurors to follow her. Your father helped you to stand.

"Honey, listen to me carefully." He said in a mixture of concern and seriousness. "Don't tell anyone about this."

“What, daddy? I don't.."

"Honey, please." He interrupts by stroking your cheeks with his thumb. “I will explain everything to you, I promise. But this needs to stay between us. You can't tell anyone what you saw in the sky.”

You swallow dry, but agree. Your dad doesn't let go of your hand all the way back to the portkey, and when you rejoin your friends again, you lie and say you just got lost in the food stall area after he gives a little grip on your fingers.

//-//

Your father doesn't explain anything to you.

When you return home, he receives urgent howlers from the ministry, and then he returns to the ministry of magic.

You are walking around the kitchen, outraged that you were prevented from looking for Wanda on your way out of the stadium and you have no idea if she is okay.

"What if the Maximoffs have a phone?" You grumble to yourself, but then you remember that you don't even have the number. You press your hands to your face, trying to calm yourself down. Wanda was fine. She had to be.

Gamora and Nebula are sitting on the couch, discussing something with each other, looking concerned. Tony locked himself in the room after Howard refused to tell him what was going on.

You don't understand why you have this horrible feeling in your chest, and you can't stop wondering if Wanda is okay, and then you support your hands on the table, trying to normalize your breathing and stop yourself from crying.

"Hey, breathe." You are almost startled by the voice at your side. Gamora touches your back tenderly, and you shake your head, feeling the tears flow. "She's fine, you need to breathe."

"You don't know that." You snap out of breath, and then Gamora puts her hand on your shoulder, asking you to look at her.

“We met Erik on the way out while you got lost. They left before you came back. ” She tells and you blink confused. “Wanda is safe. Breathe."

You gasp, and then your body relaxes as if a weight has been lifted off your back. Gamora looks at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, but you sigh, hugging her in appreciation.

"Thank you." You whisper against her hair. "I should have asked."

When you let go, she still looks at you with concern.

"Yeah, I know." She says assessing her face. "You should have asked how anyone else would do it."

You frown, not understanding what she is saying. But she still looks at you, suspicious.

“It looks like you were barely listening to us when your dad brought you back. And then I find you like that, and one word is enough to get you back to normal. ”

"What do you mean, Gamora?"

"I'm worried about you." She says. "I don't know what it is, but there is something strange about the way Wanda affects you."

You change the weight of your feet, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's talking about you not being able to bewitch Wanda." Nebula adds by getting up and walking over to you. You blink confused, ready to say that story was too old, but the girl is not intimidated. "She's talking about the way you behave around her."

"I don `t…"

"It's not just about liking someone." Nebula interrupts and you feel your cheeks heat up. "Gamora thought it was because you are in love, but that seems like something else."

Something in your stomach falls. You gasp in surprise.

"I'm not i-in love!" You exclaim with a racing heart. "I'm not…"

Gamora sighs impatiently, messing with hair. And trying to calm you down, she puts her hands on your shoulders next.

"Listen to me, okay?" She asks. "There's something weird about the way you care about Wanda. We don't know what it is, but you need to admit that you can see that too."

Facing your friend back, it takes a moment while you think of your words, for you to speak again.

"I saw a mark in the sky." You confess, deciding to disobey your father. Gamora blinks in confusion, and you clear your throat before you clear up everything that happened. Her hands fall off your shoulders when she opens her eyes wide for your confessions.

"Are you sure it was a hydra?" Nebula asks seriously and you wave.

"Do you know what that means?" You ask, and the girls exchange a look, but before they say it, you hear another voice.

"It is the Mephisto mark."

You get scared of Tony coming down the stairs, his gaze on you as he walks over to where you are. He folds his arms when he reaches you.

"Which means death walkers are back."

"Tony ..."

"You said you saw a wizard." He interrupts seriously. "Do you have any idea who it is?"

"No." You embarrassingly deny it, feeling your stomach sink with the look Tony is giving you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are the one who's been weird." He replies. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"What did you mean by that?"

"What did you see in your head?" He counters with another question and you start to get angry at the way he is behaving, but tell him anyway. Tony sighs impatiently, turning in the opposite direction. He circles the room for a few moments before speaking again. “Daddy is never going to let us get involved in this. Especially now that you are having visions in your head. ”

"I still haven't told him about it." You grumble and Tony looks at you in surprise.

"Then don't say anything."

"What?" You exclaim with a frown in confusion. "What you mean? I need to say. I have to find out what it is. ”

Tony laughed incredulously.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he retorted. "Dad won't tell us anything. He didn't tell us about being an Auror, or about being friends with Professor Lehnsherr. He didn't even bother to try to understand why you can't bewitch Wanda!" Tony squirms angrily, and you shrink your body to the pitch of his voice. But he sighs, running his hands through his hair, and softening his expression. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It's just... I don't like being lied to."

You looked away, feeling tired. All this talk was making your head hurt, and the previous events had affected you more than you would like to admit.

"I don't know what we can do about this." You say. "I don't understand what's going on, and Dad would be the first person I would ask something, but he's not willing to help us. I feel like I'm at a dead end."

Tony lifts his arm to your shoulder, trying to reassure you.

"Hey, don't be so concerned about it." He says. "I'll find out what I can, and well, we're going back to Hogwarts next week. You and Wanda can try to figure out what this connection is about, while I try to figure out what's going on at the ministry."

You nod in agreement and Tony smiles, hugging you briefly. You hope that despite everything, you will have a quiet year at Hogwarts.

//-//

The Maximoffs are not on board the Hogwarts express.

You are in the same cabin as your friends, squeezed in because not everyone can fit in there, and you take several turns with Peter and Darcy in turn to sit down, while you are spread out in the corridor.

"No sign of Wanda, huh?" Gamora asked as she saw you looking around the hallway for the tenth time while you were standing outside the cabin, listening to Mantis tell you about her summer from inside.

"No." You reply. "I talked to her Slytherin colleagues, but none of them were very happy to tell me anything. Wanda didn't say anything in her last letter."

"Maybe she will arrive in a flying car, I hear they are popular." She jokes, making you laugh briefly. You can't ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, and you sigh. Gamora places her hands on your shoulders. "Let's find something to distract you, okay? How about some explosive snap?"

//-//

Laughing at Quill's joke about the last statement in the Daily Prophet, as you walked off the train with the rest of your friends toward the castle.

A chorus of excitement coming from some students ahead of you caught your and your friends' attention, who looked in the direction curiously.

"Is that a ship?" You heard someone ask as they pointed in the direction of the lake.

There was a large old ship, right in the center, coming toward the castle. Everyone looked on excitedly.

"Students, please continue toward the castle!" Drax loudly commanded the crowd, and the students exchanged nervous whispers, all extremely curious to know who was coming to the castle. You swapped a glance with Gamora before following the crowd.

//-//

Already seated at the Hufflepuff table, you startled slightly when Mantis touched your hand.

"Calm down, you're making it snow." She asked gently. You shook your head, realizing the cloud you had accidentally conjured up above you. You had been so nervous the last few minutes, which only got worse when your gaze failed to find Wanda at the Slytherin table, and to no avail was the look of reassurance Gamora threw at you when she said she would ask her colleagues about her over dinner. As soon as you sat down at the Hufflepuff table, you played with your wand between your fingers, and before you knew it, it was snowing.

"Sorry about that." You mumble clumsily, putting your wand back away. Mantis is not angry, her look is one of concern.

"I'm sure everything is fine with Wanda." Mantis says to you, and you sigh, running your hand through your hair.

"I think so too." You say. "I just don't know why I can't stop thinking about it."

"Y/N..."

You lost your attention completely on Mantis as your gaze reached the door of the hall just as you noticed the figures entering. Wanda and Pietro, walking hurriedly to the Slytherin table, being two of the last students to enter the hall before the door closed. You made mention of getting up, but Mantis held you by the shoulders.

You were about to complain, but she pointed in the direction of the teachers' table, and you rolled your eyes, because the welcoming speech was about to begin. Your gaze remained on Wanda, but she was looking straight ahead. The only good thing was that the feeling of worry in you diminished considerably now that you were seeing her.

"[...] and I am proud to tell you that a very special event will take place at Hogwarts this year: the Triwizard Tournament!"

You are startled slightly when Headmistress Harkness' words reach your ears at the same moment that the main hall explodes in hubbub. You lose sight of Wanda because people are moving excitedly, and Mantis is nudging you to look forward.

It is only now that you notice the large stone globet and the blue flame displayed in front of the bench. You blink in surprise, feeling your face flush because you spent all the minutes of the speech staring at Wanda without realizing it.

Then the principal speaks again.

"Of course, the ministry has determined rules for the safety of the students." She recounts. "No student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to participate in the tournament, in addition to the dueling rules..."

The principal's speech was drowned out by the chorus of protests from the younger students, especially those in the fifth and sixth grades. You raised your eyebrow slightly, because you noticed that your brother was one of the boys who was shouting in annoyance.

Agatha then made a stern expression, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, and it took only a few moments for the hall to become completely silent, and for her to smile again.

"Note that the other participating schools will be staying with us this year." She continues her speech. "Please welcome the students from Durmstrang Institute."

The doors to the main hall opened again, and a small crowd of students wearing thick winter coats entered. A tall, shabby-looking man with a scar over his right eye was at the front, guiding the students.

"Agatha!" Greeted the man with open arms as he reached the headmistress. Agatha smiled as she hugged him, and you tried to get a look at the new folks, as did the rest of the school, who were looking excitedly at the crowd. You let out a surprised exclamation when you recognized one of the faces. Your classmates also seemed to realize who it was, because many whistles and comments were heard.

"That's Jean Grey, isn't it?" Peter Parker asked sitting next to you. When you confirmed it, he widened his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know she was still in school."

"She's the youngest catcher of the century, Parker." You commented with a smile.

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" He retorted, and you made a noise of agreement.

The students reached the front of the hall next.

"It's good to have you here, Yondu." Said the headmistress. "How was the trip?"

"Wet and noisy, woman!" Rebutted the man humorously. He didn't seem too excited to greet any other teachers, focused only on the woman in front of him. Agatha looked at the students next.

"Please feel free to join any of the empty seats, all the houses were honored to accommodate you." She warned the students, but they only moved after Yondu waved lightly at them.

You bit the inside of your cheek, noting that almost everyone sat down at the Slytherin table. Yondu joined the students next, not failing to take a good look at the goblet before sitting down.

Agatha looked down the hall again.

"Let us also welcome our honored guests from Beauxbatons."

The students at Beauxbatons' institute seemed nicer the first moment you saw them, but as soon as you noticed the way their cloaks were bewitched to land gracefully on the floor as they moved, you figured they must be the kind of people who wouldn't be happy with Hogwarts' cleaning schedule.

The principal of Beauxbatons was a tall, stout woman, very beautiful. She had a crown on her head, and you wondered if the people of Beauxbatons were royalty in some way.

"Ovette, it is an honor to have you with us." She greeted Principal Agatha, but unlike before, her smile was cold, almost fake. The other woman didn't seem happy to be there either, but returned the greeting in the same formality.

The Beauxbatons students sat down at Gryffindor's table, and you giggled when Quill grimaced at you from his table as one of the boys sat down next to him.

Suddenly you felt very hungry. And dinner didn't disappoint.

"I think you'd better wait to talk to Wanda tomorrow," Mantis remarked next to you as soon as you finished eating. You frowned, looking at her.

"Why?"

"Professor Lehnsherr has been staring at the Slytherin table like he's going to cast a good behavior spell at them the entire dinner." She counters as she looks at the teachers' table. You look just in time to catch Erik with a stern look toward the students who were talking loudly on the end before he went back to eating his potato salad.

"Maybe he just expects better behavior while we have guests here." You comments, glancing back to the Slytherin table. Wanda's gaze has not searched for yours all dinner, and you are starting to get annoyed by this.

"If you're going to risk it, I suggest you do it before curfew." Mantis quips as she looks down at her own lap. Groot is trying to steal her piece of chicken, and she smiles as she hands him a loaf of bread.

You look around. All the students are sitting at their respective house tables, and despite the loud buzz of conversation, no one is standing. You know that if you stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, everyone would look at you. Sighing in annoyance, you rest your face on your hand and your elbow on the table, giving up on talking to Wanda during dinner.

When dessert arrives, you become distracted.

//-//

Your best idea is to catch up with Wanda at the end of dinner, but you frown when she doesn't get up from the table along with the other students. The next moment, Professor Erik is joining her, and the crowd of Hufflepuff students pushing you out makes you lose sight of her.

You mumble softly to yourself when you have to go back to the dormitory, and Mantis gives you a short smile, equally annoyed by your nervousness.

//=//

You tried to sleep. Maybe at some point you did.

After you went back to the dorm with everyone else, put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, you think you fell asleep almost immediately. But there was no rest.

The minute you fell asleep, you were somewhere else, fully conscious.

It looked like a graveyard, and there was a lot of smog. You turned over, feeling breathless, and saw a red light, maybe it was a spell. The next moment you woke up, panting, opening your eyes and immediately sitting up in bed. Surprised at the amount of sweat on your shirt, you frowned.

The dormitory was completely dark, and everyone was sleeping around you. You felt thirsty, and as you tried to understand exactly what you had dreamed, you left the room.

The rest of the common room was also empty, and you sighed as an idea crossed your mind. Biting your lips, you shook your head. No, you were not going to sneak through the dormitory into the Slytherin hall, because that was absolutely against all the rules, and more importantly, it would be weird.

Ignoring the sudden urgency you felt to follow your idea, you forced yourself back to your dormitory, hoping that you would be able to sleep again.

//-//

The next day, you had no need to look for Wanda, because she found you first.

As soon as you left for breakfast, accompanied by Mantis, you gasped in surprise as you felt some jump on you just before the entrance to the main hall.

"I missed you." Wanda sighed as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Some students looked at you curiously, but you didn't mind, circling Wanda's waist to return the hug.

"I missed you too." You retorted by hiding your face in her neck, feeling your whole body relax with the scent of her perfume.

But a sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment, and Wanda turned away from you, her cheeks flushed.

"You saw each other last week." Pietro teased with a slight frown on his forehead. He didn't press the matter, however, greeting you afterwards.

You made your way to the Slytherin table, your newly awakened friends looking sleepy as they lazily enjoyed their breakfast.

After greeting everyone, you sat down next to Gamora, who was looking at the daily prophet.

"Not a word about what happened in the Quidditch world cup" She commented indignantly. The group shared the same reaction. "All the news is about the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts."

"Maybe they don't want to cause a panic." Quill then reasoned. You knew that he, as well as Mantis, only knew about what happened in the cup because of the letters you and Gamora sent.

"It just seems like they are hiding the truth." Gamora retorts without taking her gaze off the paper. You glance at the figures moving around before turning your attention back to your coffee.

"Clearly corrupt wizarding ministry matters aside, is anyone here going to try to sign up for the tournament?" Quill asked next, causing you to frown as Nebula and Gamora gave a giggle.

"No one here is of age." You comment with confusion, but Quill gives a wry chuckle.

"You Hufflepuff people are adorable." He teases making you laugh. He stretches his arms out to Pietro and Monica's shoulders next as he is sitting between them. "My Gryffindor buddies have found the perfect solution to solve this problem."

You look at the three of them curiously. Gamora rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to the cereal.

"Let me guess, aging potion?" Nebula then suggests, and Quill lets out an impressed exclamation.

"Look at you Nebula, who would have guessed? I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." He jokes, but Nebula just raises her middle finger at him, making the rest of the table laugh.

You are slightly distracted because Wanda asked you to pass the jelly to her and your fingers brushed against each other, and you had to keep it together, unaware because the sensation spread a tingle across your skin, so you are startled when Quill lets out an excited exclamation next.

"I just remembered!" He says. "I didn't complain enough about the cancellation of the Quidditch cup between the houses. I was sure Gryffindor would win this year."

Wanda lets out a wry chuckle, and Quill makes a mocking face at her, tossing a piece of bread in her direction.

You like to see your friends like that, playing with each other. The next moment, Mantis asks how Quill intends to get past the goblet spells to put his name on it, and the boy spends the next few minutes arguing that the aging spell is enough to break the enchantment, and your friends seem happy to argue with him about it.

//-//

You're not sure how you're going to tell Wanda that you need to talk to her about the events of the vacations, and the cup, and well, your connection to her, so you ignore the suggestive look Gamora throws at you after coffee and decide to put it off for as long as you can.

Your classes seem to have gotten even harder and more boring, but you struggle. It's even trickier to pay attention when the whole school is excited about the triwizard tournament, and there' a lot of noise between and during the classes, after a while, the teachers give up on calming the moods.

Without Quidditch, you have free periods, and you use this time to spend with your friends, either playing witch chess or explosive snap, or even getting some practice with your broom.

The foreign students get more comfortable as time goes on. You would think that they would be sleeping in one of the dormitories, but they are staying on the ships and in the carriages that they have come on.

The only times you got a glimpse of Beauxbatons' carriages was on the way to the class on the Tract of Magical Creatures, and you weren't the only one trying to get a better look, but the guardian Drax was quick to scare off any curious people who got too close.

With three weeks of classes, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed a lot. You knew it was because the date for choosing champions was approaching, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath about it.

Pietro and Quill actually proceeded with the idea of trying to fool the goblet with an aging potion. You and the girls joined them in the room where the magic object had been placed, and witnessed them try. And fail miserably. Wanda was worried that Pietro had been hurt when he was thrown across the room trying to get through the protective circle, but as soon as she saw his aged face, she laughed, and all the girls followed her.

Pietro and Quill were annoyed for three seconds before they began to laugh as well.

You fell silent the next moment, however, because Jean Grey entered the room accompanied by Headmaster Youndu, both of whom looked at you all reproachfully.

Jean placed a piece of parchment in the flame, and you all watched with some admiration as the goblet accepted her inscription.

The small admiring smile you had on your lip completely disappeared when Jean looked at Wanda on her way out, her gaze flashing in a way that made your stomach turn the wrong way.

When Pietro started talking about how amazing it was to have a famous player at school, you didn't feel excited about the idea anymore.

//-//

After your double period of potions on Thursday the last week of September, you could practically catch the anxious tension of your classmates in the air.

At dinner that night, the school champions would be chosen and even you, who were more concerned about the lack of news from home and the way Tony was clearly avoiding your presence, were curious to know who would be chosen.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the main hall and you joined the Hufflepuff table with Mantis, noticing the warning look that Headmistress Okoye cast at anyone who was not behaving in the most chivalrous manner possible, but you didn't remark on it, noticing the wizards wearing formal attire at the teachers' table, probably being employees of the Ministry of Magic and reporters for the Daily Prophet.

A characteristic buzz was going on among the students, but the room fell silent as the students from the other schools entered the hall together with their principals.

When Headmistress Agatha began the selection ceremony, everyone seemed to hold their breath.

"[...] Tonight the goblet will choose the one who is worthy to represent their schools in the triwizard tournament. The ceremony of choice begins now." She gracefully presents, wand in hand. Agatha touches the tip of the goblet next, and the flame on the top changes to red briefly, expelling a piece of parchment through the air. Agatha catches the item between her fingers. "The champion of Durmstrang is Jean Grey."

The room erupts in applause and tears of celebration. You clap happily too, completely forgetting about that day in the hall. You knew that Jean had become quite popular among the Hogwarts gossips, especially since she is already a celebrity, so the reaction of your classmates was not a surprise to you.

You and the rest of the students watched as she accepted the parchment from Agatha before greeting the ministry wizards, and then walked into the small door behind the teachers' desk. As she left, everyone was silent again.

Principal Harkness repeated the wand movement on the goblet, and the flames turned blue again. She paused briefly before announcing the next champion.

"Beauxbatons' champion is Maria Hill!"

You watch a very elegant girl get up from one of the front seats and walk in the same direction as Jean amidst the applause. The commotion is a little less than Grey's, but you know that it is only because Grey was famous.

A moment later it is the turn of the Hogwarts champion, and you are much more excited for this.

Agatha also seems more excited about this, a small smile escaping her lips before she repeats the wand movement.

When the parchment falls into her hands, she reads it aloud.

"The champion of Hogwarts..." She begins and her expression falls, her frown frowning. The brief suspense only makes everyone even more anxious. "Wanda Maximoff."

The crowd's reaction is remarkably different from the other champions; the hall explodes into a buzz of accusations of cheating, pointing out that Wanda was underage, and even snide remarks about a Slytherin representing the school, but you were barely listening. A wave of preoccupation takes over your body completely, and you look around the table for Wanda, but she is already standing up, her chin held high despite all the negative comments. She accepts the parchment Agatha hands her and heads in the same direction as the other champions.

Harkness makes another movement with her wand and the flame from the goblet goes out. In the next second she is leaving the room, being escorted by the other directors and the ministry officials to the Hall of Champions. As soon as the door closes, the hall explodes in agitated hubbub, and many people stand up.

As the teachers call for calm, especially for the Gryffindor students who accuse the Slytherin of cheating, you and Mantis stand up and join your friends.

"I can't believe that just happened." Gamora comments as soon as you reach her, as impressed as she is concerned.

Your gaze searches for Pietro however, and he looks upset.

"Comrade, your sister is the champion of Hogwarts! She managed to do what we were trying to! Why the long face?" Quill asked his friend excited and confused, but when he went to hug Pietro, he pulled away, an angry grimace on his face.

"I can't believe Wanda kept this from me." He grumbled, you and your friends looked at him in surprise.

"Come on Pietro, maybe she didn't think it would work and didn't want to say anything." Quill suggested but the boy shook his head.

"No you don't get it." He retorts. "She absolutely could not have risked doing something like that."

And then he turns away, and heads for the teachers' table. You and your friends are left with puzzled expressions, but upon noticing that he looked like he was going to be talking to his father for quite some time, you return to your conversation.

"I can't believe Wanda didn't tell anyone about putting in the name on the goblet, that's incredible." Quill adds. Nebula begins to argue how dangerous it was for someone without enough magical acquaintance to be in such an ordeal, and your stomach does a turn. You walk away from the conversation, heading toward the group of Tony's friends who were standing a few feet away from you.

"Hey, your friend just caused a stir around here." Tony jokes as soon as you reach him.

"I noticed it." You retort as you spot Professor Strange separating with a spell a student who jumped on top of another. "Everyone is talking about how dangerous it is for her to participate, can you tell me anything good about it?"

Tony laughs at the desperation in your voice.

"I figure eternal glory and the thousand-gallon prize is the good part." He teases, and you run your hands through your hair, trying to ignore the urge to go into that little room and find out if Wanda is okay. Tony assumes a serious expression next, and lowers his tone, not that it was necessary, since everyone seems wrapped up in their own conversations. "You also find it strange that this happens after what happened at the cup, don't you?" He asks and you nod. Tony sighs. "Maybe this is a good time for you to talk to Wanda, little sis. About how you feel about her. And well, maybe as you help her practice for the tournament, you guys can figure out what that connection means."

You nod, feeling your cheeks warm. It was still strange how all your friends knew about the way you cared for Wanda.

You wanted to ask Tony if he had found out anything since you last talked properly, but Professor Strange ordered everyone back to their dormitories the next moment, and after Tony messed up your hair, you turned and headed toward the Hufflepuff students who were leaving the hall.

//-//

There was no way you could sleep without talking to Wanda, so you risked an detention by sneaking out of the dorm after curfew. Mantis grumbled at you to be careful before turning over in her sleepy state, making you laugh softly.

You used a simple invisibility spell on yourself, not so strong that you were completely invisible, but enough to blend into the shadows of the castle as you descended back into the dungeons. Hogwarts was, yes, very scary at that time.

The board at the entrance was sleeping, and after removing the invisibility spell, you poked it with your wand to wake it up.

"What, what is that?" Complained the irritated painting, looking around and acquiring an angry expression when he noticed you.

"I'm sorry. Keep your voice down please." You asked. "I need to get inside."

The painting looked at you suspiciously.

"I have seen you here before, but you are not from the honorable house of Slytherin."

"That is not your problem, Mr. Talos." You retort impatiently. "Just let me in. The password is Polyjuice Potion."

"Your friends will get in trouble if they keep sharing their password with you." Warned the painting before moving, giving you passage to enter.

"Thank you, Mr.Talos." You said with slight irony, walking into the dormitory.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around at the empty environment. You were used to the place, but it was still creepy when poorly lit like this.

"We don't like intruders." Spoke a voice in the corner of the room, making you jump in fright.

"Damn, Nat, you scared the hell out of me." You complained, putting your hand to your chest and feeling your heart racing. The girl giggled, closing the book in her hand and standing up in your direction.

"Why are you here?" she asked with her arms crossed.

You gave her a lopsided smile.

"I came to check on Wanda, of course."

Nat narrowed her eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Why?" you retort after a short laugh. "Because she has just been chosen for the deadliest competition in the wizarding world, and everyone in this place wants to remind me of it!" You exclaim, and can't stop yourself. "I heard a girl say in the hallway that the tournament was banned for the number of deaths! Did you know that? Yeah, neither did I. And well, I can't sleep, because I keep thinking that something like that might happen to Wanda. And when I think about it, I can't breathe and I..."

"Stark, breathe!" Natasha interrupts you with concern, placing her hands on your shoulders. You gasp slightly, realizing that your eyes are filled with tears as you notice your vision blurring. You sigh, trying to normalize your breathing as you force a smile and wipe your face. "God, what was that all about?"

"It was nothing." You grumble. "I'm just worried."

Natasha doesn't buy your excuse, though.

"Tony told me about what happened in the cup." She says as she lowers her arms. You look at her in surprise. "He also told me about how connected to Wanda you have been feeling. I just didn't imagine that you would almost have a little tantrum at the possibility of her getting hurt."

You feel your cheeks flush, looking away to your shoes.

"I didn't have a tantrum."

"Nearly." She teases, but you don't laugh, feeling your stomach churn. Nat looks at you seriously next. "Wanda's not here."

You raise your head in surprise.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know." She replies. "Believe me, you weren't the only one who tried to talk to her. The whole dorm was wanting to know how she tricked the goblet, but no one has seen her since the selection."

You feel your heart soar, and seeing the way you react, Nat raises a hand to your arm again.

"Hey, try not to think about it so much." She says. "Maybe she's with her father. I imagine it's been quite a commotion that a minor has swindled the goblet, and the ministry must be trying to decide what to do. She must be in the teachers' dormitory, she is still a child after all."

"Wanda is already fifteen." You grumble.

"Yes, and I'm sixteen. We're all kids, Y/N." She retorts. "I don't think Professor Lehnsherr was going to leave his daughter alone at such a time."

You sigh, nodding in agreement.

"Try to get some sleep, will you?" Nat asks next. "I'm sure Wanda will talk to you tomorrow. And well, I think she's going to need her best friend to not sleep through the conversation."

"Wanda said I'm her best friend?"

Nat laughs at the way you talk, probably sounding like a lovesick puppy.

"God, you two are a disaster." She comments before waving you toward the exit. You bid her goodnight and thank her before walking back to your dorm.

//-//

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wonlouvre · 3 years

Note

Yayyy i absolutely love your writing!!

I would like to request a Hoshi × gn!idol! Reader angst+fluff imagine where Soonyoung cheers/takes care of his reserved s/o who has been having a hard time and has opened up to him about it for the first time. S/o is someone who can't say no easily and because of that their workload had increased a lot. But in the end they can't hold themselves any longer and breaks down.

strength | k. sy.

pairing: hoshi x gn!idol reader genre: fluff, angst, then fluff again warnings: mentions of anxiety, physical and mental tiredness (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.8k+ (i honestly don’t even know anymore)

💌: thank you very much for requesting! i made some tweaks here and there and i hope you still like it! thank you for loving my writing as well :’( it really means a lot that <3 i hope you like this!

Soonyoung was aware that you’d be coming from Japan for your collaborative magazine photoshoot. He just didn’t know that you’d be going straight from the airport at four o’clock in the morning.

He thought he read your message wrong saying that you’re on your way to the assigned shooting location. As far as he’s concerned, the call time was at seven a.m. He had to do a double take while squinting his eyes over the brightness of his phone but when he saw another bubble pop out saying you’re already there, he immediately jumped off his bed to shower.

He misses you. You’ve been going in and out of the country because of promotions and the chances of getting to see you has been slim to none. If he ever meets with you, it will be short because either one of you has to go back to work or has to go back to bed because there is a flight to catch the next day. It’s obviously tough. But your relationship perseveres.

Soonyoung will do everything to make it work and you are together with him on that. So if it means he has to shower half-asleep and wear his boxers backwards just to see you, he’d never mind.

Your Japanese album tour started and ended successfully but work didn’t stop from there. You were just getting started. Before leaving the said country, you were fully booked for live television performances, interviews, variety shows and the like. It was exhausting but, it was an opportunity that you couldn’t miss out on for the world even if you wanted to.

Soonyoung is proud of you and he will always be. Heart eyes were formed whenever he got the chance to watch your performances whether it be from a paid livestream event or from kind fans sharing and uploading their videos or photos on Twitter or Instagram. He’s even more in love when it’s in person and he gets to watch your performance plus enjoy it with your never failing supportive fans.

However, Soonyoung is also worried because he knows you’re also tired. He knows how fulfilling it is to do what you love the most, but he’s no stranger to the physically and mentally tiring part of it. He wasn’t even surprised to catch you asleep on the couch when he arrived at your dressing room.

Your manager’s eyes brightened when they saw him, quickly standing up from the chair to give him a hug.

“They told me they just need a fifteen minute nap,” they whisper against Soonyoung’s shoulder as he hugs them back. “But we both know they need more than that.”

Soonyoung sadly smiles while his eyes never leave your curled form. He mutters a simple “I’ll take it from here” while your manager excuses themself to buy everyone breakfast.

It’s a challenge to take you into his arms without disturbing your sleep because he doesn’t want that from happening. He just wants to hold you for the remaining time without interruption from other people. He just wants to hold you and share this moment of calm before the lights and camera get into action later.

Soonyoung’s thankful you didn't, although he still felt your lips lightly ghost against his jaw, telling him that you know that he’s here. He brings your legs over his lap while he cradles your head close to his neck. He wishes to lay down, but the couch is too cramped for two bodies so he’d have to settle with this position. He guesses it’s fine with how you deeply inhale his scent and snuggle closer and closer, locking your arms around his waist with no intentions of letting go.

Just like you, he falls asleep, completely comfortable and content in finally having you in his arms again.

Your tangled bodies were shaken to wake up at least an hour later. Both of your managers have food in their hand, ready to energize the two of you up before moving forward with the hair and makeup. The agenda for today includes a photoshoot with several changes of outfit, a short shoot for an audio video presentation and lastly an interview or question and answer of some sort.

Your relationship has been publicly known for two years already. Some fans have been supportive while some have been angry. It’s nothing new and it’s nothing the two of you could care about at this point.

Countless projects have been offered to the two of you during the course of those two years whether it be a song or dance performance, a guesting on a famous variety show and even a three second cameo appearance on a drama. They’re all lovely offers and you would love to participate, but the two of you made a decision to keep the relationship private. Sure, you’ll accept it from time to time. But, it’s still very limited to one to two songs to sing or dance to together and some magazine photoshoots. Just like now.

By far, this is the third time the two of you would be featured on a magazine cover. Your respective publicists already know how to communicate to the publishing company your terms and conditions. Questions about your relationship are allowed, but to a certain number only. The rest will be about what’s mostly seen by fans and the rest of the public which is automatically your music.

The concept is not necessarily daringly romantic. After all, what you’re trying to promote here is the clothes. But your chemistry is maintained with a few fleeting touches here and there. In one shot, you two were holding hands and the other has his arm is loosely wrapped around your neck.

You and Soonyoung are careful to not get lost in each other’s eyes during the short breaks in between because the cameras were still rolling. Although, his soft touches on your hand and arm still lingered. On the other hand, you help him fix his hair whenever he gets excited and jumps from time to time. You could kiss him right now, but again, you want to be careful.

The shoot concluded faster than you thought and the next thing you know, the two of you are sitting side by side with a camera blinking red in front, ready to record the interview included in the contract.

The interview consisted of questions that’s nothing out of the ordinary. The magazine asked about your favorite go-to styles lately, your look inspirations, a little bit of this or that, your recent music releases or favorite music releases at the moment and of course something about your relationship that you're comfortable and willing enough to share.

But one particular question caught you off guard that you had to hold your tears and brave through the rest of the interview without showing any signs that you’re about to cry.

“How have you guys been lately, individually?”

“I’ve been great,” you quickly answer with a smile that didn’t even reach your eyes. The camera may not have noticed, but Soonyoung did. It took a lot of patience and restraint for your boyfriend to stop himself from cutting the interviewer off to ask you again how you really have been.

Everything that was in store for the two of you today ends and when the cameras are gone, you and Soonyoung hand in hand walk back to your dressing room. It’s a relief that this is the last project for the day and you’re glad you could get some rest for the coming week.

Your body slumps on the couch while the staff pack up. You puff out a breath before closing your eyes. You wish you could yell out how tired you are lately. Work piled up over the course of six months and you couldn’t have at least two days away from the makeup and flashing lights.

Soonyoung bites his lower lip as he settles beside you. He’s contemplating whether he should ask you now or later because he doesn’t want you to grow conscious and shut yourself away. He knows how brave and strong you are. But he also wants you to know that you can trust him and that if you ever need a shoulder to cry or at least lean on, his are more than welcoming.

“You okay, babe?” He asks in the quiet as the staff leaves one by one. “Anything bothering you?”

You surprise him by sitting up straight and opening your eyes, welling with tears. That makes him shoot up and instantly hug you close. “Oh baby.”

You finally cry and set free the tears that you’ve been locking deep within you. You thought you could brave through this pain and anxiety without having the need to shed any vulnerability. You thought this shall pass soon. You thought you could do this.

But here you are now letting go with sniffles and shaking shoulders as Soonyoung gently caresses the top of your head.

He hates to see you cry. But it’s only right to let you.

“I just feel like I’m going to miss out on everything if I turn down any project offered to me.”

Soonyoung pouts when he hears what’s been bothering you. It took a while for you to calm down and finally talk, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind.

“I understand, honey,” he assures you and wipes your tear stained cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.”

Your lips shake again and crying makes you want to hide. Without hesitation, you crawl to your boyfriend’s lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. Soonyoung doesn’t complain and just keeps you close, protective arms around your waist.

The dressing room is empty except for the two of you. The staff got the message once Soonyoung pleaded with them through his eyes to give you some time with him since you’re already done for the day.

“It’s also okay to work and work,” he continues, soothing hands rubbing against your back. “But at some point, it’s also okay to take a break for them.”

You pull away and rest your hands on his neck. “Even though I’m going to miss out?”

Soonyoung nods and leans his forehead against yours. “Yes and there’s also nothing wrong with that.”

“I seriously want to go on a trip with my family,” you say and sigh. “And of course, with you too.”

Soonyoung can’t help but giggle. “I’d love to. How about next month? Let’s go somewhere with your family or friends. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

Your boyfriend’s enthusiasm puts a smile on your face and this time, the smile reaches your eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quiet first. I want to take a long nap before we proceed to do anything that needs an awake body.”

“You got it, babe,” Soonyoung promises and kisses your lips.

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minahoeshi · 3 years

Text

you were loved the most the most of all.

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader | breakup angst

Summary: You should've known that when Ushijima Wakatoshi found it easy to fall in love with you, it might be even easier for him to fall out of it. But who expects the worst when it comes to loving someone as seemingly perfect as him, anyway?

Chapter 1 of 2

Chapter 2 of 2

Middle schooler Ushijima Wakatoshi was already more special than the kids around him. This, he was made to believe. It’s not exactly like it was wrong either. When a child is raised the way he was, with so much support that it’s suffocating, one can only grow to be good at what they were told they were meant to be doing. Volleyball as a toddler was meant for the happier times, a memory locked away as nothing but a feeling of nostalgia, never to be completely remembered again. Volleyball as a middle school player was an endless beginning, the very first point of a journey with no real possible end. Volleyball as one of the best among kids of his age, proven by the strength his high school team was known for and the fact that he was already on the world stage as well, could only ever spur him on to keep the momentum. Keep climbing, he would be reminded. Never stop. That’s how you reach the peak. Whether he would break after all that or rise to the very top was never even a matter of discussion. The way to the top was the only one there was. Looking back down and allowing himself to just freefall until the top becomes a distance almost crossed but never reached wasn’t ever an option. Wakatoshi could only ever aim for the very peak.

So, Wakatoshi, how’s volleyball as a pro?

The feeling of a dream-come-true that never was a dream, he might say. But him and sentimental descriptions simply didn’t really mix much. You were the one filled to the brim with those kinds of words. Maybe flowers laced the walls of your chest, maybe when God kicked Adam and Eve out of Eden, he left the garden to grow and flourish within your lungs, maybe you unknowingly raised every single Godly creation and so you were blessed with the power to create as well. You were full of flowery words, that’s what he knows. He would listen to every single one of them, count every petal, water every plant, kiss every one of them in their full bloom, and watch as sunlight filtered orange sets on all that you are. He’s always liked plants. But yours were his favourite.

So he wonders why the point where he could no longer listen to your words had to come. Why he looked at you and only felt the kind of fondness that comes with familiarity but not exactly love. Why the way your hands entwined with his no longer fills his chest with warmth. Why the abyss he spent trying to fill before you arrived (and made him realise maybe empty spaces were never meant to be filled to feel full but instead filled to feel warm) now feels extremely cold again. So maybe things like love do end. And maybe he made promises too soon.

So maybe when you told him about your mother and father and about how they made promises too but couldn’t come through, and when Wakatoshi thought you won’t ever be the same, he was wrong. Maybe one of them realised letting go when love no longer feels the same is better than letting their hands stay entwined when there’s only numbing coldness left to be felt. So maybe it’d do you better for him to let things end. From this point onwards, whatever he does will only ever hurt you. Because you crave the kind of affection that won’t ever end, and how he wish he could keep giving that to you, but he just no longer can. And staying with him who, for whatever fucked up reason the cosmos came up with, can no longer find the love he spent years sharing with you, is something he would never wish upon you.

This fucking hurts. How he fucking wants to keep loving you. What the hell happened?

After you left, Wakatoshi skipped training. He felt bad for eating the omelette when you cooked it to wish him luck. But he ate it anyway, wondering if he will ever see you again. And if so, will he feel find himself feeling the way he used to? And if yes, would you want that?

How do feelings work anyway?

You get to work right away. Still feeling heavy and hurt, sobbing at times, you keep collecting Wakatoshi’s things from your apartment. There were a lot. You were both comfortable with sharing your spaces with each other anytime you both wanted. Sometimes leaving things behind caused problems like that time Wakatoshi left his jersey in your apartment and only realized on the day of a game. You had to head to the gym earlier than you usually do, thankfully having washed the clothing a few days before. It’s actually there again, you find. His Schweiden Adler jersey in your closet among the pile of his other shirts and pyjamas. You put all that and other things into a box and close it up. For now, you’ll clean your place and get some sleep. You slept late last night and you woke up too early. Dealing with lack of sleep and the taxing feelings of ache after a breakup was too much. You were exhausted.

The moment you lie on your bed, you feel yourself falling asleep. And then you do. World gone.

You wake up at around lunch and take a short shower. You dress up, carry the box of Wakatoshi’s stuff, head out, lock your door, and go on your away to Tendou’s chocolate shop. You weren’t friends with him before you met Wakatoshi. So, you guess, maybe this will be the last you see him too. When people lose others, they either prefer to keep remembering or completely forget. For your sake, you’d rather be the latter.

Tendou’s shop isn’t close enough to the train station. You have to walk a few more minutes before you reach it. The box you’re carrying isn’t exactly heavy but you still feel sluggish even after that nap. You stop by a café to gather your wits and rest a bit. When you meet Tendou, you know he’ll greet you brightly. Toshi wouldn’t have told him that you broke up just yet. You realised long ago that unless asked by people, Toshi would rather not say anything most of the time. His silence was one you grew used to. Now you have to get used to not being around it anymore.

When you enter the chocolate shop, you see his red hair behind the counter right away. Quite the opposite of Wakatoshi, he’s lively and loud when he wants to be. Like right now, as he’s talking to a costumer, excitedly helping them choose one of the products they’re looking for. You wait until he’s done, just sending him a wave when he sees you, smiling. When the costumer leaves, you head for the counter and place the box you’ve been holding on top pf it.

Loudly, as you expected, he says, “hello! What brings you here? Haven’t seen you in like, three days, I think? You need anything? Where’s Wakatoshi-san? He’s not with you? Why?”

His barrage of questions won’t be left unanswered. But first, you nudge the box toward him. “Uhm, yeah, haven’t seen you in days. I… uhm, I’m here to ask you to do something. Related to Toshi-kun, of course, and well, why he’s… not, uhm, here…? With me?”

You stutter a lot mainly because you don’t exactly feel like announcing that Wakatoshi broke up with you. Tendou simply seems extremely excited to see you and even hopeful to see his best friend too but right now, you just feel like crying all over again It’s like you just can’t run out of tears. You just know that after this, you’ll go home and sob the rest of the day away. Breaking up with Wakatoshi hurt you a lot.

The redhead urges you on, concern beginning to appear on his face. What with the way you’re stuttering and fidgeting when you’re usually so comfortable around him and other people, it’s easy to tell that you’re not feeling too well. Clearly, something must have happened between you and Wakatoshi.

“So… we… kind of broke up…?” the lack of certainty in your voice makes it seem as though you’re still unsure if things really did end between you and the pro-athlete you’ve spent years with. But with the way Wakatoshi told you his reasons for breaking up last night, and how he didn’t want to keep hurting you because you’ve already talked to him about two other people who met and fell in love and did many things and yet still fell out of it but tried to hold on for too long that they ended up tearing each other down until even their daughter started to break with them until it’s just one tiny family with sharp shards for hearts, only capable of hurting each other and nothing more (some daughters grow up wanting to be anything but their mothers and fathers). Of course, Wakatoshi never mentioned that story, but you both knew that when he said he knows he can only really hurt you even more if he lets things run as they always did, he meant, we’re not your parents. We won’t tear each other down. If you go now, you’ll be okay enough to not be the person you’ll come to hate.

The only thing you allow Tendou to know is that you and Wakatoshi are no longer dating and that you’re both okay with it. You leave it at that, and when Tendou gives you a hug, the pain in your chest runs up your throat and you start crying again but that’s alright because Tendou reminds you that you’re sad and hurt and crying makes sense and crying helps and crying is fine and maybe crying makes it hurt a little bit less. He pats your back and says nothing after that, simply letting you calm down.

Before you leave, you purchase a few sweets because Tendou told u it’ll help. Chocolates and sadness work too well with each other.

–

The last time Wakatoshi remembers talking to you was around a year after your breakup. He and his team known to be one of the bests of Japan lost against the bests of Argentina in the Olympics. The world stage wasn't a strange new world to him and neither was loss, but for the first time in many years, the man found himself burdened by the weight of too many regrets.

He knew then that maybe it wasn't exactly losing against Argentina that made him feel this way. Maybe the emptiness he so desperately filled by pouring too much of his days into training and playing was finally there to break him. Maybe the whole time he was thinking he was getting there, not knowing where, only hoping to keep going because he just doesn't know where he can stop to lay his pieces down, he was only distracted enough to not miss the warmth you brought with you which you took with you when he broke your heart. And so when he lost that game, he questioned what could possibly keep him going. When does this journey end? Until when must he keep going? His parents never told him when he was younger. All this time, he only knew to keep forward. Now that he has won one too many games and finally lost one of the most important games he could play, he finds himself wondering if he should stop here now.

And because you knew him too much, you just had to, you know, be that rock that kept him steady even after he hurt you. He went and broke your heart for reasons he himself still cannot really explain, like how the fuck he knew he was no longer in love with you, and why the fuck is he still missing you, and is God playing with him right fucking now? So you just had to call him when he was all alone in his hotel room, mind messed up in so many ways. Your voice just to had to be there. To tell him, you did so well today. To be honest, I haven't watched much of your games recently but I felt like I just had to watch this one. And it was so awesome. It makes me wanna start watching you play again. You're amazing, Wakatoshi-kun. I'm so proud of you.

And then a year later, Wakatoshi finds out that you finally published the novel you’ve been working on since way before he met you. In the first message you sent him, you attached a picture of your book, saying, look at the name on the cover. are you proud of me yet? I am too<3. Better grab yourself a copy before there's none left, right? He couldn't say for sure why you decided to message him about it. It wasn't like you stayed in contact, both of you aware of how much you preferred not facing the past if you had the choice. That time after he lost against Tooru Oikawa's team in the Olympics and you gave him a call was because you're just that kind. You're just that amazing.

But like many things he'll never understand, he just lets this one be. So what if you told him about your book? He should be thankful enough that you even decided to tell him about it. So he goes and buys a copy and reads it as soon as he gets home. It's not like he's big on reading. But he just really likes your words.

Epilogue

...and if someday we find ourselves in a universe where soulmates are filled to the brim with not only stardust but also pure serendipity, I wonder what kind of mark we would have. I kinda wish it'd be that one where ink on my skin gets inked on yours too. Then maybe it'd be so much easier to tell you all the secrets I've been trying to keep. Like how I spent too many years regretting not succumbing in that green lake back home or how sometimes I bleed all over in red angry lines running down like red angry tears, and how much you made me just want to live because you just made me feel loved the most of all. Because maybe you were my finallyfinallyfinallyfinally before you were my whywhywhywhywhywhy.

The End

A/N

Hello. I deeply feel how flawed this fic is but that's fine. I'm still learning how to write stories because I've been writing prose more than anything else. So stories like this do kinda scare me. But I still hope you liked it and thank you so much for reading it!!!!

also, not proofread. it's p hard for me to reread my own works so im v sorry for any mistakes and stuff. if u find any mistakes and whatnot pls pls pls tell me. thats all i hope u enjoyed this v much shouldve stayed in the drafts fic. mwa!

taglist:

@lordmypantsaresocool

@annoyingpessimist

@ushijimacentral

#ushijima reader insert #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fanfic #ushijima angst #hq ushijima #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu angst

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caker-baker · 3 years

Text

The Fall Guy

Ah, hell. Maybe the hero didn’t think this through. This was more of a myth than anything, if myth was the right word.

Or maybe it was just a pizza place and the hero was overthinking things.

Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Uh, hi.” The hero greeted the lanky cashier. “Can I get the hero’s special? I’m willing to pay extra.”

The cashier regarded this with a blink, then another, then finally, to finish off his grand display of emotion, he sighed.

“With or without the ‘save the day’ toppings?”

The hero scrambled to remember what to say. “With, please.”

Now with mild interest, the cashier leaned over. “Down that way, second door on your left.”

“Thank you.” The hero said with narrowed eyes.

Holy hell, that whole interaction felt like a strange dream that was a little too realistic. And that cashier was a bit too intrigued.

Jesus, their heart was beating in their ears at this point.

It could all be a lie, all of it, this could all be an intricate and carefully crafted lie told by a villain, made to lure in unsuspecting heroes to their deaths.

Too late now, their hand was already turning the handle.

Where the hero was expecting some small room that fit logistically with the rest of the joint, there were stairs.

No, they didn’t like this at all. But what was the choice, go down there, or go back outside?

Downstairs it was.

Surprisingly, it got lighter, and larger, a hard contrast to the ominous setting. And with the light came music. Something very upbeat, lots of drums and guitars, and loud.

With their final step, the hero was able to see the cause of the music, two large speakers attached to a phone.

They also got to see the apparent villain, sitting and humming along to the beat.

“Hello?”

The villain, who’s head snapped up, reached to turn down the music before turning around.

If the hero was unsure before, they definitely were unsure now. They couldn’t help being nervous as an oil stained face looked them up and down.

“I know you.” The villain finally said.

“You do?”

The villain hummed in thought. “You were the one involved in the bridge incident two weeks ago, yeah?”

A strange bout of pain overcame the hero.

“Yeah, that was me.”

“Well, no need to look all guilty about it.” The villain stood from their stool, still shielding whatever caused the oil on their face. “Everyone screws up. Is that why you want to leave?”

“No! I’m not running away from that, I’m running away from-”

“You’re getting away from the heroing part. I get it.” The villain reached behind them, grabbing measuring tape. “Mind if I get your measurements?”

“What for?”

“The decoy. Did whoever told you about this not tell you about how it works?” The villain spoke while they untangled the tape.

“No. I didn’t even know if this was real. I thought the cashier was just annoyed by me.”

“Yeah, Paul, he’s just judgy.” The villain stepped closer. “Step on this.”

The hero put a foot on one end of the measuring tape while the villain pulled the rest of it up to the top of the hero’s head.

“Thanks.”

The villain seemed fine in silence, the hero, however, felt like their whole being was vibrating with questions.

When the villain moved away, the hero felt themself breathe out heavily.

“You alright there?” The villain asked, turning away to write something down. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

The hero chuckled awkwardly. “It wouldn’t be very heroic if I was, would it?”

Turning around again, the villain spoke. “Well, considering you won’t be a hero much longer, I won’t hold it against you.”

It all seemed to fall out of the hero at once, words carefully hidden away now in full sight.

“I didn’t even want to be a hero, then one day I was drafted. I don’t know how they found out what I could do, I never registered. All I wanted was to keep my head down, but suddenly I was out with the big leagues.”

Several creases had formed on the hero’s head.

“And then the tracking, oh, God, the tracking. I went out for fast food once without telling anyone, just for a moment of peace, and it was like the world imploded.”

The villain rested their chin in their hand, nodding emphatically every once in a while.

“You know there’s three days of training before they shove you into the world. They don’t care what you run into, as long as you defeat it. ‘Real heroes don’t run’ type bullshit. Ironically, that’s the most freedom we get, going up against something or someone three times our sizes.”

The villain turned their head to the side.

“And there’s a seminar on meeting foreign dignitaries! Meetings on how to address the general public, correct customs for different world leaders. Jesus, I don’t even get a choice on where I stay! I could be shipped off to Japan tomorrow.”

The hero stopped, their eyes glazing over with a strange numbness.

“Then I messed up, put on house arrest. God, that’s the happiest I’ve been in a while. Of course, I did have to beg to go and get ‘pizza’, even after the house arrest. That was the only downside, I guess.”

A beat.

“Are you finished?” The villain asked.

A brilliant scarlet color bloomed across the hero’s face. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

The villain waved them off. “Happens to nearly every one of my customers, sometimes the best therapy is just venting to the fall guy.”

“Fall guy?” The hero echoed, eyebrows furrowing.

That made the villain pause. “Yes? If this was all found out, who do you think would take the fall? Paul?” They laughed.

“Are you never, I don’t know, worried about being caught?”

The villain shrugged half heartedly. “Well, last time it happened, I just packed it up and moved. This time I had to make it pizza. Used to be donuts.” Their lips pursed. “I miss the donuts.”

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it again, trying to figure something out.

“What if-” Those weren’t quite the right words. “What happens if one of your, ah, customers gets loose lips, talks to the wrong person?”

“That, my dear hero, is a matter of trust. And it helps I am financially gifted, powerful. It’s a matter of who would last longer, and it will always be me.”

“I see.”

The villain leaned against their work table. “Hey, do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Can you portal something?”

The hero blinked, not expecting that. “Depends on what and how far.”

“Yourself, to a rendezvous point, say, oh, twenty six miles from here.”

The villain was grinning, waiting patiently for the hero to realize their plan.

“You use the heroes who come here, their powers to help them.” They concluded.

“While my decoys certainly do last quite a while, it’s not forever, and heroes often don’t realize the assets they have available. Speaking of, how come you haven’t tried it?”

The hero swallowed. “Portalling a living person is complicated.”

At that, the villain motioned with their hand, urging the hero to tell them what they weren’t saying.

“And,” the hero began. “my portals don’t like technology. The tracker in me could malfunction, electrocuting me before I get all the way through.”

“How did you learn that?” The villain asked, turning to scribble something down.

“The bridge incident was my first mistake as a hero, not a person.”

The villain let out a laugh. “Seems you’re just as morally gray as me.”

“It’s why I can’t be a hero.”

The villain smirked at the self righteousness of the hero, who probably didn’t even realize they were being self righteous.

“And the tracker,” the villain switched subjects. “standard GIM-14U?”

Wait, something wasn’t adding up here. There was something too certain, too familiar about the way it rolled off the villain’s tongue.

“How’d you know?”

The villain tensed, as if they hadn’t expected anyone to pick up in their certainty.

“My clientele often times have the same one.”

“And?” The hero prodded.

They could hear the villain mumble a curse under their breath.

“I used to have one. First prototype, in fact.”

Something else didn’t add up. The first GIM-14U came out several years ago, when the hero was a kid. The villain was barely older than the hero, maybe the same age. Why did the villain have one when it just came out?

It took a moment too long to realize. “You were the child prodigy, the one who vanished.”

The villain did a mock bow, their muscles relaxing slightly. “In the flesh, although technically, I’m M.I.A.”

“Oh, God. Now you-now you get other heroes out.” The hero almost laughed. “That’s genius, it’s the perfect payback, it’s-”

“What makes you think it’s payback? Maybe I just like helping people.” The villain had a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, oh, gosh. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

The villain held up a hand. “It’s a little bit payback.”

A familiar shade of scarlet crept across the hero’s face, and the former prodigy decided they liked that.

“Now this part is the part most of my customers don’t like - waiting. Your decoy will most likely only take two months. In that time, you need to work on your portalling.” The villain made sure to hold the hero in their gaze. “I will contact you when and where to meet and set up the decoy. I already have your information.”

“How do you-”

“Door frame. Like a metal detector, but more precise. If you are registered on any system anywhere, I’ll know you.”

The hero had relief coming off them in waves. Two months, and all they had to do was practice some portals. And do some heroing, but they could manage.

“You know, you interrupt people a lot.” The tone was joking, and the hero was far too busy trying to contain a smile, there was no time for chiding.

“So I’ve been told.” The villain did smile. “Now, about my payment.”

“Right.” For a second, the hero fumbled around in their pockets, before pulling out a wad of cash.

The villain took it, and began counting the bills, their eyes getting wider.

“‘I’m willing to pay extra’ is just part of the code. You know that, don’t you?”

The hero shrugged. “Do you not want it?”

In the blink of an eye, the money was pocketed by the villain. “I didn’t say that. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The hero nodded, and turned on their heel, then stopped suddenly to ask one final question.

“If you know everyone from the door frame, why bother with the measuring ordeal?”

“Gets people to open up, relax a bit.”

Oh. That was sweet.

“You aren’t a bad person, are you?” Asked the hero.

“Hey now, don’t go telling everybody. My scary reputation could be ruined.”

The hero, a ghost of a smile on their lips, left, back up the stairs, through the pizza place.

Two months.

#snippet #short #writing #hero #villain #heroine #villainess #heroes #villains #heroes and villains #just in my drafts so #why not #hero x villain #not really a villain?

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absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week in BL

May 2021 Wk 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

It’s a cray cray Friday when Vietnam gets its eng subs up before GMMTV Thailand. What alter-reality are we in? Well, the Vietnamese offerings are better right now anyway. (Oooo, feel that burn.)

Ongoing Series - Thai

Top Secret Together Ep 2 - pulping it up in the best possible way. Sure sound and production values are pants, and in classic Thai fashion the editing in post is exacerbating (rather than fixing) pacing issues, but it’s still CUTE AF. I don’t even mind the added university storyline, because they’ve got good chemistry (and a confident gay fresher after a panicked gay hazer is an old favorite... what can I say, SOTUS was my first love). We aren’t spending too much time with any one couple, so it’s weighted a lot better than Brothers was, but also character development is slow.

Siew Sum Noi Ep 2 - Unfortunately, it’s just too hard to find, plus no subs. I’m dropping it in the hopes it comes back on my radar some day.

Y-Destiny Ep 8 - (Thurs) It’s rough having a ghost boyfriend, half your friends are scared, the other half think you’re crazy, and kissing shortens your lifespan. This was a cute couple even if I wasn’t wild about the surrounding story.

Close Friend Ep 5: (Dear My Star/JimmyTommy) - about high school penpals. It had to rely entirely on voice over work as the actors only meet face to face at the end. It’s a good thing they are appealing screen presences on their own, with good vocal control. It’s hard to imagine any other BL pair carrying this kinda plot. It’s by far my favorite of the series so far, and I’m not even a big JimmyTommy fan.

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 7 - no subs. Do we care? Not really. Because we have...

Nitiman Ep 3 - currently my favorite out of Thailand. It’s the university Thai BL i’ve been waiting for since... when was the last good one? My Engineer? Yowza. Anyway we got: head on my shoulder, baby is a floppy drunk (but still wants to be in control), proximity alert, boyfriend’s closet, seme gets seriously jelly, and a cute twist on feeding him. There’s something fun and complex about Jin’s character. He’s not a panicked bi. He knows exactly what’s going on, he just hasn’t decided if he wants Bb or not. He clearly enjoys being looked after, the compliments, and the attention, but he’s not sure if he’s going to like what happens if he gives in. I like that twist on the usual tsundere uke archetype a lot, cautious rather than willfully obtuse or freaked out. We can see Jin realizing in stages: I like this person, I like that they like me, I like the romantic attentiveness. But in the background is... do I actually want to f*k him? It’s a dynamic we don’t often see on BL.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 10 fin - the most ridiculous show using BLs worst tropes in a sort of weird smoothie of bitter greens and too ripe banana. The ending was the sappiest cheesiest thing ever, like cheese syrup tapped from the cheese tree. So of course I loved it, but I’m pretty sure I giggled through all the bits meant to be profound. Because, in the end, to tolerate this show at all, you just can’t take ANY of it seriously. RECOMMENDED (with some SERIOUS reservations and trigger warnings.) Full review here.

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan) Ep 1-2 - I don’t mind a damaged seme character but this one is a bit weird for me. Like creepy Cheese in the Trap level weird. On the bright side, the story has given our tsundere uke good motivation for his angst and great existing friendships, loyalty, and likability. Plus I’m invested in the cafe owner/innocent puppy side dishes. So if it’s only the seme character I’m not jiving with, and he’s the most established actor, it should all turn out fine. I believe in you, Taiwanese BL.

Papa & Daddy (Taiwan) Ep 6 fin - speaking of belief. This such a good show but they gave us a cliffhanger ending. Now we must hope against hope for season two. That’s never guaranteed with Taiwan tho. So, I’m docking a few points and saying, RECOMMENDED so long as you realize it’s a cliffhanger.

Love is Science? (Taiwan) Ep 1-9 (BL subplot) - this is a good het romance, but the fact that the BL subplot is a beautifully acted disaster bi + confident gay means you’re hearing about it whether you want to or not. Plus they just added in some GL! Come on! I gotta support Taiwan normalizing queer to this extent. They are fighting the good fight and if I also have to watch a career lady and her much younger softest straight boi get it on, too? Twist my arm with that service sub subtext. Go on Taiwan, TWIST IT. It’s on Viki. Join the revolution. * Incidentally if you actually like the D/s het dynamic of this show, I highly recommend Japanese Kimi wa Petto - career woman keeps a hot young dancer boy as a pet. Oh yes, an actual pet, that IS the pitch. Never doubt Japan when kink is on the line. It’s also on Viki. Go get your kink on, thank me later. (If it helps: That was not a request.)

Most Peaceful Place 2 (Vietnam) Ep 2 (AKA 5) - love triangles aren’t my thing, but if you’re gonna do it short form, by all means bring in the lead’s other BL pairing so the chemistry is on point. Now I've no idea who I want him to end up with. Can’t they just be in a poly triad?

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 7 - I’m still enjoying it a lot. It’s still unabashedly queer and the tension is ramping up. We now have secret identity, blackmail, femme fatale, faen fatale, and incoming seme confrontation. Best of all, the series is still airing, which makes it longer than any other Vietnamese BL I’ve seen (aside from Tein Bromance - which is just too weird to count).

Gossip - Thai BL

SEVEN PROJECT TEASERS

No one is entirely sure what Studio Wabi Sabi’s Seven Project/7Project will entail.

It might be like Close Friend (1 episode per couple, no linking),

or Y-Destiny (2 episodes per couple, loosely linked),

or The En of Love (4 episodes per couple, linked but independent consecutive stories).

They’re giving the couple’s arcs separate titles. So each one would be what? Seven Project: Once Upon a Time or the like? We’re in Taiwanese title territory people and NO ONE WANTS TO GO THERE. Anygay...

Once Upon a Time is the BounPrem (og UWMA) anchor story, and seems to be the most dramatic and likely saddest. These two can handle most of what’s thrown at them at this juncture, so it should be good.

Vs Love is a BoomPeak (og Make it Right) university vehicle. Since I thought Boom was done with our nonsense, I couldn’t be more thrilled and surprised this pair is doing another show together. I don’t think either of them are the greatest actors but I find Peak very endearing and Boom charismatic on screen, so I’ll watch.

Would You be My Love is the hotly anticipated SantaEarth launch. They’re a (cultivated) IRL ship and Earth is an established BL actor. They have great chemistry and high energy so this could be lots of fun.

We are also getting a GL from this series from established BL actresses Samantha and Pineare. Nothing teased yet on that, but I’m looking forward to this installment the most. Also curious to see how the ladies handle the branding and promo side, not to mention the culture. (Thailand variety shows gonna force *girls* to play the Pepero game?)

Secret Crush on You upcoming Thai BL with no release date, co-produced by and featuring (but NOT staring) Saint and directed by Cheewin (sigh) with all fresh faces. (Previously known as Stalker the series.) It looks like pure pulp and I’m not wild about the plot but could be better than expected as it’s adapted from a novel. Cheewin is an okay director when he has an actual story to follow.

Don’t Say No the series. Coming from the producers of TharnType this is the JaFirst vehicle many have been waiting for. Friends to lovers + a good boy/bad boy pairing on a sports romance foundation. It’s basketball so they tapped Meen as well (he’s semi-pro). The bad news? You get one guess as to who is writing the darn thing? Yep it’s MAME. So, ya know, expect some slam dunk kidnapping, a light dribbling of rape, and me turning into a basketcase. AKA...

Will I have to live blog this series in order to survive it? That seems to be the only way I can. So probably. Which means the bad sports puns will continue. Look, if I’m suffering, SO ARE YOU!

Rumors of a new YinWar vehicle The Best Story (mini series) coming in July. Also rumors that their previously announced Love Mechanics (full length series) has either been delayed, is facing money issues, or is moving studios, or all three.

Breaking News

DELAYED (I’m talking these three off the watch list until we get new airing dates)

Love Area’s release was pushed out but it got a trailer.

Golden Blood was supposed to drop Weds but comments in MDL report that it is delayed due to C19.

Love’s Outlet (Taiwan) is supposed to have started a 50 episode run (only 3-5 min each, what utter nonsense). Sadly, this delay is due to a surge in cases in Taiwan which was doing so well, but also doesn’t have many inoculations.

Bad Buddy has started workshopping at GMMTV actual.

Kang Insoo’s BTS for Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding is SO FLIPPING CUTE. You have to watch it. Trust me, I don’t rec behind the scenes stuff often.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head.

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya yū #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu!!

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