#torii;ask

[pkmn-smashorpass]

Loving the evolution splits here

[fightleft]

my goal for this weekend is to work out some random jo headcanons...

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[twipsai]

Professor Tori (aka "pink-haired lady") and everything we know about her

i havent seen any posts compiling everything about Tori yet, so consider this a masterpost of sorts for her.

march 24th, 2022, Tailstube #4 released with this graphic, showing a handful of npcs from Sonic Unleashed (and explaining how mobians/anthros/whatever usually live on islands and humans usually live on continents). one person stuck out, being the pink-haired lady behind Professor Pickle

as far as i know, this is all we knew about her for over two years. there was some speculation she was going to be in Frontiers, but obviously that wasnt true.

flash forward to december 10th, 2024 -- a clip of Shadow's introduction for Sonic Movie 3 is released, with a familiar face in the background...

yep, there she is! interestingly, she wasnt in this shot in the trailer that had this exact scene in it. they mustve added her in later for... some reason...? additionally, you can see text on the screen shes on.

the english text reads "12.30.24.START!" (tomorrows date, at the time of writing this), and the japanese text; プロフェッサートリィ, reads "Professor Tori" (or Torii, or Tory... ive heard there are a lot of different ways to translate it)

a name that starts with a T, with no additional context behind the character themself? well, that sounds an awful lot like --

the... note?? inside the front cover of Gerald Robotnik's journal???? sure enough checking the japanese translation of this note its explicitly signed by Tori (or Tory, depending on who you ask)

this is just about where the clues abruptly stop. anything else beyond here gets more into the speculation category. its also worth mentioning that Ian Flynn stated around the time she was first seen that "her inclusion is a tease" (source), so it wasnt a case of accidentally throwing old concept art in somewhere, it was a deliberate teaser for something coming in the future. apparently something coming tomorrow, if the movie clip is to be believed.

if im missing something, let me know! ill add it in with a reblog or edit the post depending on what it is!

[the-midnight-blooms]

LIMINAL ECHO | kjh

pairing: special grade curse spirit!kim hongjoong x grade 1 sorcerer!reader AU: jujitsu kaisen au word count: 6.4k warnings: blood, strong violence, strong language, sexual innuendos

masterlist | ateez x jujitsu kaisen masterlist

chronology | part two — available for streaming

NAME: KIM ‘RED NAGA’ HONGJOONG

OCCUPATION: CURSE SPIRIT

GRADE: SPECIAL GRADE

“I’ve seen this file over a hundred times, Yaga. To the point I think I’ve managed to memorise each word on this page.” Her brow raises at her superior, who stares at her through his black tinted glasses. She’s never been able to exactly hold his unwavering stare, but his judgmental gaze is perceptible through the subtle clenching of his jaw and stiffness of his shoulders. “I’ll ask you, as I always have: what do you want me to do with this information?”

“There’s been a number of attacks spread from the South West, now plaguing Central. People are disappearing or falling into an unnatural coma-like state."

To begin with, there are malevolent entities born from negative human emotions; the more powerful the emotion, the stronger the curse becomes. Thus, they are categorised into Grades, with 4 being the 'weakest' and 'Special Grade' being the worst. Perhaps the worst of them was the formidable Kim Hongjoong. He may as well been called 'Death', himself, and to live in ignorance of his presence was considered a great blessing by jujitsu society. His potent ability revolves around sending others into a liminal space—an undefined, eerie realm that exists between reality and the afterlife. Kim was merciless, and only ensued chaos when he was bored, or going mad from lounging in his Eternal Realm.

“What about Gojo?” She ponders out loud, he’s always been the one to tackle the riskier missions. Mainly because he has no sense of rationality. (And she doesn't feel like dying today).

“Gojo is on a different mission.” She rolls her eyes, of course he is. “Besides, if you can tackle this one you may land yourself a promotion.” Is this Yaga’s form of negotiation? Absolutely. Is it working? Hell yes. There’s nothing like being on Gojo Satoru’s level that will stop him being a pretentious arsehole; though she can practically hear the douchebag saying, ‘We may be on the same rank, but I still have to look down at you.’

Six foot three bastard.

“When do I begin?”

LOCATION: MIYAMA TIME: 08:06AM

A yawn escapes her lips as she rolls out of her bed, her limbs are wrought with heaviness as she trudges towards the restroom, pulling the light cord, a dim brightness empties into the small bathroom, her arms reaching for the toothbrush. Stringing a piece of red ribbon through her hair, Hanami's arms outstretched for the sword that rested neatly against the doorway, her eyes vaguely glancing into the mirror sat upon the drawer. She looks tired, of course one would be when the locals pound on her bedroom door at seven in the morning as a vicious flare of attacks begin just outside the town. The infamous 'Red Naga' may be an early bird, but she for one: is not. In a haste she swallows the steaming bowl of broth that her host has left for her, and dashes through the door all the way down to the fields. Narrow roads wind through sleepy villages where time seems to pause—the rooftops of wooden houses are tiled in weathered clay, embraced by steadfast memories of a time before.

The wind blows through the leaves, swaying with such gentleness like a mother's hum as a child erupts into a miserable cry. Tall grass brushes against her knees, boots squelch into the moist mud - the sunlight fades as she ventures into the forest towards the red torii gates, they stand tall and poised; their vermillion hue glowing boldly in the distance. It stands proudly, an entrance to the abandoned temple - it exudes an air of dominance and power and for some reason she can only think of the 'Red Naga'. Plus, it is on a hill and it seems very tactful to have higher ground; at least, it is what she would do. As she moves closer, the wood of torii is chipped, moss ensnaring around its pillars like ivy.

The air around her shifts, she can no longer hear the gentle teetering of insects and the whistling of the cicadas in the spring heat; the branches don't crunch under her feet. Instead the air feels hushed and reverent as if nature has become subject to some higher power. Hanami's sharp eyes scan her surroundings until a flicker of an enigmatic shadow blends into her line of sight. A breath hitches in her throat, the first thing her eyes latch onto: his smile.

Out of instinct her right leg swings back, sword unsheathed pointing directly at him. He snickers, standing on at least two steps above her - his malevolent grin unwavering. In all honesty, Hanami didn't know what to expect, whether it be a ten foot demon or one half the size of her. What she wasn't expecting was for him to look so abnormally human. His skin carried the pale, ghostly sheen of something ancient, his feline eyes were sharp, high cheekbones and jawline carved from obsidian stone. His hair was bleached blonde and slicked back with a few strands out of place, and he was dressed to the nines, layers of dark fabric shifting around him in irregular forms. There was so much to see about him, yet the only thing Hanami found herself focusing on was his smile; there was something hidden beneath that seemed beyond mortal comprehension. It was too soft to be devious but his presence alone was enough to send one running away from the battlefield. Regardless, Hanami wasn't one to run away even if it meant her life was on the line. Kim takes a calculated step down, then another before he stands in front. He's of average height but the air surrounding him makes him seem a lot taller than he actually is. His eyes are unreadable as he cocks his head to the side, deeming her fresh meat.

"I've never seen you before, what's your name?" His voice isn't deep, nor sharp but hauntingly merciful. As if they are to become friends and won't be rushing to kill each other in the next few moments. "I'm Hongjoong, by the way." Hanami's heart palpitates at his nonchalance, she quickly concludes that this must be a part of his witty game.

Her lips part, but her stance remains unwavering. "Hanami." His lips move to masticate her name on the tip of his tongue, his eyes flutter shut relishing it as if it tastes as succulent as honey.

“I usually don’t like jujitsu sorcerers, but…” He whistles lowly as the clutch on her sword tightens, heart viciously palpitating as his dark eyes roam over the surface of her body. Despite her clothing being loose, he sook the accentuation around her cleavage and waist, biting his lips in such a teasing manner that made him no better than no other male pupil at her academy. “You’re beautiful.”

Beautiful.

She flinches at the tenderness of it, granted his eyes had her subjected to thinking he was going to say something vulgar.

“Our kids would look great, but making them would be even better.” Her face scrunches up into a scowl, she’s not sure if the iron grip around her sword can be secured any tighter.

“Listen here, Kim.” Hanami hisses, with her sword threatening close to his neck.

“Listening. I love a dominant woman.” Rolling her eyes, she tilts his head with the edge of her sword. "Careful, swords are too dangerous to be playing around with."

"I'm going to kill you, Kim Hongjoong, or rather banish you back to your Eternal Realm." He nods, as if impressed and to mock her. "Does that sound like a plan?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He brings up his hand to salute, yet before he can blink Hanami pushes herself forward lodging the honed edge of her knife through his neck, the blade cutting through his arteries. Blood flows like scarlet rivers down his body, his slender fingers pull around the gash indented in his neck. Stumbling backwards, he slips on the stairs, his body falling back against the stone.

I’ve got five minutes.

“We know his weak point is somewhere around his neck, and once you’ve got through to him, you’ve got five minutes before he awakens and launches another attack.” Yaga warns.

Her boots slap across the cobbled path as she dashes up the staircase towards the monastery, her breaths quicken with purpose and anxiety; resisting the temptation to avert her gaze behind her shoulder she dashes straight into the monastery.

“It’s a shame, Hanami, I thought we were becoming good friends.” His voice echoes in the vast hallway, the darkness of the room obscuring his body. Pressing her lips tightly shut, the cursed energy flows from her blood, slipping down to the sword in hand; glowing a determined blue. She knows Hongjoong won’t be able to see her, yet the way his footsteps resound in the name makes her feel he’s so close to her.

The Red Naga shuts his eyes, as a current of energy flows through his veins. He feels the weight of matter within the room, each physical particle held within the palm of his hand. From all that which composes the bricked walls and golden columns to the tiled floors he stands upon. The existence of each molecule is laid bare before him and he finds himself organising the chaos of the room. Then there she is, hidden on the ledge above him feeling her cursed energy and the pulsation of his heart.

The room implodes on itself, the tiles shattering through the air. A shockwave rippled out from the centre of the temple, but instead of chaos, there was stillness. Wooden beams, ancient tiles, paper lanterns, even the golden statue of the Bodhisattva—each fragment remained suspended in the air as if time itself had ceased to live. The atmosphere resonated with cursed energy, thick and humming like a swarm of cicadas. At the heart of it stood the Red Naga; eyes glowing with cold amusement, reflecting each drifting shard with one hand raised as the particles danced, rearranging into grotesque constellations. The sorceress adjusts her position on the ledge, summoning her cursed energy, dripping ruthlessly onto the blade, before it glows a callous cerulean.

Leaping off the ledge, she launches towards the cursed spirit the blade above her head striking down at his head with absolute force, that the energy capering around her sabre dyes a sinister black. Sinking into his vulnerable flesh, she once again tears through his carotid arteries.

Black Flash. A distortion in space that occurs when cursed energy is applied within 0.000001 seconds of a physical hit, ultimately resulting in 2.5 times the destruction. Nanami Kento is the record holder of the most Black Flashes orchestrated in a single battle. Hanami has only ever done two, her second hit is yet to come as she lands on two feet, hastily stepping forward to launch another attack. Even so, something feels off. She hasn't felt a fraction of Hongjoong's enviable force in the minutes that she's been here. So she does what no man would ever dare to do in the face of Kim Hongjoong. She waits.

The molecules shift, rearranging into novel frames, the blood dripping down his skin sinks back into his wound, the gash sealing by a compelling force of nature. He resumes his original position, standing in the centre of the monastery, his eerie smile crawling back onto his defined features. "Domain Expansion: Serpent Void!” Her eyes widen in realisation, her arms covering her face as she braces for impact.

The spirit's hand pushes through the irregular alignment of molecules, tearing through the fabric of the room like wallpaper; uncovering a vast emptiness echoing a distorted collection of empty places. Hanami's body plunges into the cavity, her vision surrounded by space and its masses of galaxies and nebulas. An array of colours swarm her vision, the air filtering out of her lungs; her windpipe tightens - wheezes hollowed by the vacuum. The Serpent Void. Purgatory. A place between life and death, where sorcerer's go to live out the rest of eternity under Kim Hongjoong's jurisdiction. He stands at the pinnacle of the void, levitating in the air, watching as she struggles to breathe. Before she knows it, her body is sucked towards him circling through empty hotel lobbies, school hallways at night, endless parking garages, and decaying office corridors. The air is heavy with a stillness that defies logic, drenched in pale fluorescent light and in the smell of mildew and dust. His face is evocatively close to hers, a single finger cuts through her frontal bone, her eyes drooping to a stifling close.

The essence of time cannot be felt in the Serpent Void, but perpetual anguish can - it's an inexplicable feeling that cannot be described in medical textbooks yet very much exists. All Hanami can think about is three things. One, she should have fought back. Two, she needs to escape. Three, what on earth is she doing in a ballgown? Her figure remains soared in the air, limbs tight as she struggles for movement. There is no gravity in liminal space, but her body is stuck moving painfully slow towards nowhere. The atmosphere feels cool, it’s neither hot nor cold. Nor night and day. Both the sun and the moon exist in the sky above. After a single blink, the nebula fades into a room.

The castle looms like a forgotten nightmare, its once grand stone walls now crumbling under the weight of centuries. Ivy creeps over the broken battlements, twisting around the shattered windows, where jagged glass glints like sharp teeth. The walls remain as opulent as the time before, the noble chandeliers drape from the high ceilings illuminating the room that is now shrouded in incessant darkness. She finds their arms formed of the twisted bones of long-dead souls.

Her sense of dread grows stronger as she observes her surroundings, she’s hovering upon a four poster bed, strings of cobwebs loop around the frame. The room is littered with unsettling reminders: a chair upholstered in the tattered remnants of skin, a tapestry woven from the hair of the dead; reminiscing a story of death and suffering. All of a sudden, a volume of air enters her lungs, and her body goes plummeting into the plush sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake. I knew you wouldn’t give up that easily.” Hanami can practically hear his taunting smirk, her head snapping towards him as he leans against the doorway; arms folded across his chest like the cocky bastard he is. His eyes cast down her body, she can feel his lingering gaze on her cleavage.

"My eyes are up here." She snaps, her sharp eyes scan the room, searching for a moment of escape. He moves as fast as the speed of light, Hanami fails to notice his figure on the bed, slender fingers moving her chin to face him.

"And mine are here." Their faces are as dangerously close as when he had sent her to sleep, Hongjoong's hot breath fans over her lips. “Hungry?” Her stomach gurgles, cheeks heating up as Hanami’s eyes bore into anything but his. A wide grin pulls on his pink lips, a sound or two emits from his lips echoing the chorus of angels before he laughs. It itches a part of her brain, he laughs and her heart can feel its magnetising pull luring her to him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Follow me.” They surpass through the grand halls of the castle, she feels the shimmer in the walls scouring her eyes for the heart of the domain that could feed her escape; the essence of Hongjoong's cursed energy is at its greatest here. 

The cursed spirit stood in what once might have been a lofty kitchen. The old stone counters were cracked, the cabinets hanging crooked from their hinges, but the rusted pots and pans that adorned the walls were now freshly cleaned, gleaming under the flickering candles. Kim Hongjoong himself appeared almost out of place, his usual fierce and unyielding demeanour softened in the glow of the hearth. He moved with quiet precision, there was something oddly tender about the way he worked. He reached for a knife, slicing vegetables with practiced ease, the sharp steel gliding through them like butter. The sound of the blade against the cutting board was almost melodic, an unsettling contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of his domain. On the other side of the room stood Hanami, her body coiled with unease. “Wait, are you actually cooking?” she asked, her voice low, unsure of whether she was being mocked.

Hongjoong didn’t turn to face her. “I am,” he said softly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "It’s not often I have company in my domain. I thought it would be… polite."

Hanami raised an eyebrow in inquisition, choosing to stay rooted by the small dining table. “You’re seriously cooking? Do spirits even eat?” Hongjoong paused, turning to meet her gaze for the first time. His eyes, glowing faintly with cursed energy, were warm, almost inviting despite its hollow intensity. The smile that tugged at his lips was no longer the wicked grin or the suggestive smirk he'd often give her.

"You seem surprised," he remarked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a curse like him to be stirring a pot. "And yes, spirits do eat? In case you haven't noticed, I'm more human than creature anyway." His fingers curled around the ladle to stir the contents of the pot. “Are you going to stand there and gawk?” he asked, his voice a mix of mockery and something that might have been genuine amusement. There was something oddly comforting about the way he moved, as though cooking was second nature to him. The violence that usually radiated from him had dimmed, replaced by a peculiar serenity. He reached for the bowl on the shelf above his head, pouring the stew into the bowl with ease before placing it down on the table adjacent to her. Hanami stared at the plate for a long moment, the warmth of the stew tempting her. She hadn’t expected this at all—not in a million years. She had expected a battle, a fight for her life, but now? She was about to eat with the most dangerous cursed spirit of her time.

With a final glance at the cursed spirit, she reached out and took the spoon. “This doesn’t feel like a trap,” she muttered.

“Oh, it’s a trap,” Hongjoong said with a grin, “Just not the kind you’re used to.” With hesitation, she slipped into the seat, giving into the hunger gnawing at her stomach.

Hanami sucks at card games. Gojo has always been quick to remind her of that, provoking her every evening in the dorms as her losses pile up one after the other. But Hongjoong introduces her to the game of Snap, which ultimately peaks her adrenaline. The rules are easy enough to comprehend, when the card on top and the previous card match in number grab the pile as fast as you can. Oh! And you must shout ‘SNAP’ too. Against Gojo, or Shoko she reckons she would win this game with her eyes closed. But against Kim Hongjoong? He only reinforced how much she sucks. Leaning forward in her chair, she throws down 10 red hearts, onto the 10 black spades. “SNAP!” She shouts, as a loud bang resounds the air. After a quick moment of realisation, her hand is right on top of Hongjoong’s who sends a vicious smirk. Oh how she’d like to wipe that smirk off his face. Removing her hand, she slumps back in her chair like a grumpy toddler, Hongjoong shakes his head deeming he’ll find another game to play.

“You’re so hopeless, it’s the easiest card game there is as well. What are you good at?” He hums, questioningly, lifting his eyes to find her half toppled over the chair reaching for a card drifted on the floor. Her hair, long untied from the tight knot at the back of her head, falls like curtains over her face as she outstretches her hand for the card on the floor. Grunting, her bound hands finally grab onto the card; an annoyed huff escapes her lips throwing the red hearts onto the pile. "I'm absolutely tragic at cards." He snickers, getting out of the chair to reach for something on the shelf behind her. Hanami doesn't bother throwing her gaze behind her, until he's clutched the long strands of her hair between his fingers, folding her hair through a large hair pin.

“That is tragic, I suppose. Other than fighting, what are jujitsu sorcerers good at?” Other than fighting. That’s funny. If she was any good at her job then she wouldn’t be here, eating the Red Naga’s food and playing card games as if they were old friends. His intentions remained petrifying to her, why was he doing any of this? Better yet, why was she complying? “If you’re wondering if I do this to all of my captives, only the interesting ones. S-grade sorcerers can get lonely too.” He pronounces, playing with a few loose strands of her hair.

“Have they all been as compliant as me?” Hanami can’t bring herself to speak above a whisper as his fingers drape down the glen of her bare neck. Silk fabric bunches up in the palm of her hands; his touch is so tender Hanami wants to subjugate to his power. Perhaps this is why he's formidable. His charming smile and quiet grace is hard to miss. She wonders if his cursed technique is seduction rather than manipulating matter in space. Getting up from the chair in the corner of the study, she moves to the leather sofa sinking down with it, leaning her head against the headrest. Momentarily, her eyes fall to a close, trying her hardest to understand Hongjoong's game. It is difficult to understand what he is eager to achieve.

Hongjoong watches her from where he stood, crossing his arms over his chest. Whoever said women weren't complicated, was clearly lying. For a Grade 1 Sorcerer, she's a little dim. He thought he made it obvious that he had a crush on her by now. Or maybe she's not dim; she's just planning and plotting on leaving this place. The Red Naga knows that she will figure it out, how? He cannot answer this question himself. After all, he may be playing her game and not his own. When her eyes reopen, she ushers him over.

"What's your favourite colour?" She asks, he almost scoffs. Favourite colour?, "If I'm going to be here for a while, then we might as well get to know each other." But I already know so much about you, Hongjoong thinks to himself.

"Red. What's yours?" He inquires, he shifts his body slightly, leaning his head on his palm.

"Green, like forest green or sage green. Not neon green. What's your favourite season?" He stares out of the window, drifting his gaze over the distant nebula. He hasn't really thought about it much, the Eternal Realm lives through all four seasons at once; Hongjoong has never had the time to savour each one.

"Summer. The days are longer so you can catch the right moment to watch the sunset." Hanami hums at his crafted response.

"I like winter." He shakes his head at her response. They're polar opposites. Red and green. Winter and summer. The sun and the moon. Sorcerer and Spirit. Don't they say, opposites attract.

“Do you think in another life, if I weren’t a spirit you and I could have been one?” Hanami shares a look with Hongjoong before staring down at her hands, deep in contemplative thought. It’s clear the way that Hongjoong thinks about her, it has been from the start — never in her life would she ever have thought that she would have gained the attention of the most formidable cursed spirit.

“Yes. I believe we would have met in high school. You’re a quiet boy who sits in the corner of the classroom, near the front by the window. You arrive early, and leave later than everyone else.” A sincere smile falls on his pink lips, Hongjoong moves slightly closer to her; invested in her daydream. “I sit in the middle of the classroom, middle row, I get to see you without being caught. You’re pretty I think to myself, and so clever too. But you’re introverted, I don’t know how to get the will to speak to you.” He listens, quietly, absorbing each word to paint an image into his mind; as if it is a memory of his. A memory of a time where he was a schoolboy in love with the friendly girl who was well acquainted with everybody in school.

"And what would you have been, if not a sorcerer?" He questions, tempted to fill in the missing blanks.

"A doctor." Hongjoong's feline gaze snaps to her, that was an answer he was not expecting. "I was going to be one anyway, I had an offer from medical school lined up but then...something happened and I realised I had all this cursed energy..." Hanami trails off, unable to finish piecing bits of her past together, for the spirit; Hongjoong doesn't need to hear more anyway - it's all laid before him. Everything always is.

"I would have been a fashion designer." Hongjoong blurts, his sorceress snickers leaning back against the plush sofa. He can't help but admire the way the dress fits so perfectly on her. "I designed that dress you're wearing. I had no idea who I had in mind but now that you're wearing it, I'm sure it's you."

“You don’t know me, Hongjoong.”

“I do.” With a single blink, she rips her gaze away from him getting up from the sofa. She can’t do this, not anymore. She can no longer play the role of a compliant sorceress, the old friend and this diligent lover he has falsely illustrated. Her lover is far defined from the hands of Kim Hongjoong, she demands it. How ruthless of him to carnage her soul, when his is the one for the taking. When his is the one she must destroy. “Your face has been the one I have lived through in decades, your eyes have commanded the beating of my heart. I have searched for you in every crowd and have been the face of every man you have sought. You are mine, Hanami, and have always been the root of my desires. And I am the root of yours.” Tearing away her pin from the knot, she stalks towards him, her fear falling into a fit of rage.

“I am a sorceress, Kim. Not an object for you to toy with, to treat as if we are friends. You have trapped me within your domain, to become a loyal subject for yourself. I demand you to fight me. Let’s battle this out, and put an end to our miseries.”

“The only misery I have is you denying my love.”

“I do not deny you, I rebuke you!” Hanami shrieks. “I detest you and this stupid dress. I detest this void, I feel as empty as it looks. I demand you release me from this cage or you kill me. Either and I will be content.” His monotonous expression sends a cold shiver creeping down her spine. His gentleness is long gone, yet she had never asked for it in the entirety of her entrapment.

“Why do you think they sent you, darling? Because you’re the best or because you were their last option?” Hanami freezes in her wake, stunned by his rhetoric. “Do you think if they knew you were going to be able to leave they would have sent you?”

“Are you challenging me?”

“No, darling, you’re challenging me." Finally, he raises from his seat, drawing closer to her. His body is uncannily close to her own, as it always is when he requires her attention. "The King of All Domains." He mutters.

Her fingers reach for the hem of his jacket sleeve, dancing up his forearm. “You may regret this, Kim.” His slender fingers reach for her chin, lifting her gaze from the floor to his eyes.

“Then fight like you mean it. I will spare you no mercy.”

The ground beneath their feet was scorched and cracked, as if the domain had been warped by the magnitude of their power. Hongjoong’s violet eyes gleamed with malice. His cursed energy was dense and potent, swirling around him in dark, crackling tendrils. With a deep, guttural growl, he summoned his technique, the meteorites rising with his will. The Red Naga raised his hand, a surge of purple lightning crackling through his fingers. Without warning, he unleashed a torrent of energy, a lightning-infused wave aimed directly at Hanami. Thunder cracked through the air, her body hammered into the floating rock behind her, the stars burning against her supple flesh. Her fingers subtly curled as she prepared to tap into her technique.

Hanami stood her ground. As the subsequent attack neared, she focused her cursed energy inward, allowing the current of Hongjoong's assault to wash over her. Like before, she didn't move. The atmosphere seemed to slow as her cursed energy surged. Hanami didn't dodge as Hongjoong flew towards her, sending another wave of furious attacks, this time, a series of jagged tendrils of cursed energy, each one aimed at her from different angles. They moved with ferocious speed, the force of their strikes warping the space they passed through. Still, Hanami remained unwavering, refusing to fight back as if she had not begged him to fight her. The Red Naga abandoned his technique; grabbing her, violently, by her neck. His balled fist connected with her face, laced with the incense of his herculean power. Her mind rocked against his brutality, torrents of torture simmering under her blood. “Fight back! Why aren’t you doing anything?” He screams, a single tear slips down her cheek, as her body yearns for relief. His lips reach for hers, wildly pressing against her, the palm of his hand steadying her lower back as she pushes him. Her body overcomes with a fruitful desire, the pent up frustration of her being here topples over her, her hands reaching for his collar bringing her closer to him. When she gasps for air, he leans forward pressing his forehead against her own. "Stop making me hurt you."

Hanami’s eyes flared with the glow of the absorbed energy, her body humming with raw power. Slowly, she exhaled, her eyes gleaming with newfound strength. With a flick of her wrist, she raised her hand toward the sky. The energy she had absorbed detonated outward, sending a pulse that shattered the boundaries of the Serpent Void. The darkness disintegrated within a single beat, the space left open as Hongjoong moved away from her. Betrayed. Outraged. His eyes now flaring with disbelief and rage. Hanami stood at the epicentre of a growing storm of energy.

In a flash, she moved forward, her speed a blur. She reached out, and with a single, precise movement, releasing a concentrated burst of absorbed energy — a beam so powerful that it cut through the air like a blade. "Domain Expansion: Liminal Echo!" Her hand tears through the fabric of the space, warping its energy around them both as a dome filters the clouds into a hollow darkness.

Where the Serpent Void is a place that exists between two spaces, her Liminal Echo is somewhat harsh mockery of his own. There is no liminal space here, everything is clearly defined with a set purpose. The moon hangs above him casting a ruthless glow over the jagged cliff they stand upon; the wind blowing roughly into their faces. Her hair bends with the wind, her body following the movements of the shadows that follow her like magnets. "I wasn't expecting that from you." He confesses, cutting the tension between them. Her limbs are weary from his attacks, perhaps she should remain as dormant as he was when she was within his domain. "Then again, I always knew you would escape." Her head dips beneath her shoulders, Hongjoong always knows everything.

"I wonder how you know everything."

"You'd think if I could manipulate everything in space, I could tap into the fourth dimension too." Time? He can manipulate time too? He smirks, closing the gap between them, running his slender fingers around her waist. Her body is pulled flush against his own, but Hanami doesn't squirm; the heat from his body is something soothing and his cursed energy can rarely be felt here. "I know how this ends, my love. And I know what will happen after this. I won't try to fight fate." The long hairpin slips out from the hidden pocket in her dress. Carefully, her finger curls around the intricate handle.

The blade plunges into his chest, searing through the layers of skin, mercilessly cutting into the arteries of his heart. After all, he's part human too. Sinking to his knees, a pool of blood flows out from his mouth. Hanami falls with him, her hands firmly on the blade as if removing it, or hesitating as she has done several times in this battle, will result in an imminent loss for herself.

“Dying at the hands of my lover, how poetic.” His pale hands wrap around her own on the blade. Using little force, he thrusts the blade deeper into his own body being pushed up against her own. Blood sprays onto her dress, his slender finger curls around a lock of loose hair tucking it gently behind her own ear. He's a masochist, some divine creature bred from the roots of debauchery, drunk on the belief that true pain is at its most beautiful form when it's inflicted by the one you love. Yet, how can he say that he loves her? He barely knows her. How can he know what love is? He's borne from chaos, the world sinks to its knees before him. But Hongjoong sinks to his knees in front of her. She is his sorceress, his counterpart, him in its most ethereal, eternal form. He is subject to her. “To die in your arms is the most beautiful feeling. I want it to haunt my soul forever.”

After a single blink, the darkness of her realm fades, bleeding back into the forest she was once in. The deconstructed pillars of the monastery lay at her feet, as she slowly rises to find the ceiling of Liminal Echo has been replaced by the blue sky. The torii falls back into her sight, she must confess: to see the natural world again aches her heart. How long has she spent in spaces, closed off from the world? The sun is much higher in the sky than it was when she had first arrived, the breeze has slowed as beads of sweat form above her lip; the air is suffocating with its humidity — its thickness juxtaposes than that of what yearns from the void.

Her eyes search for him in the vast wilderness, disbelieving that the sky that sits above is a bright blue and not a shallow grey. Her hands reach out to feel for his body — whether it be that it is trembling within hers or carved from stone. Hanami's breath is lodged within her throat. What is this absurd feeling? This feeling of...remorse?

A glint forges from the tall trees, to settle upon another one, a human one at that. His mop of silver hair and thin-rimmed dark blue glasses taunt her as he ambles forward. His stupid hands are stuffed deep into his stupid pockets. “Hanamiiiii! How do you do?” Gritting her teeth, she stalks further down the cobbled steps towards Satoru. "Now, now Hanami. I have to say going to missions in a ballgown is new. Did I miss the memo?" His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, he peers from above it finding her costume comical.

"Satoru, where have you been for the past 48 hours you dick?” Her snarl amuses him.

"Actually, it's only been three hours." Ah yes. Time works differently in liminal space. Something like every five minutes is 3.75 hours, not that she’s calculated it or anything. Brushing past Gojo she ventures back into woodlands, exhaustion tugging at her limbs every thought in her mind occupied by him. Every flicker, shadow, remnant is Kim Hongjoong. “Yaga told me to come see you in case anything went wrong.” ‘In case anything went wrong’, a euphemism for ‘in case she’s dead’. How delightful of Yaga to care for her wellbeing now.

“I never understood why he didn’t just call you out to deal with Kim.”

“Because I rejected the mission.” She stopped in her path, turning on her heel to face Gojo who stands in front. Her heart has skipped a beat.

‘Why do you think they sent you, darling? Because you’re the best or because you were their last option?’

It wasn’t about the fact that Yaga thought she was capable, that’s why he had sent Gojo anyway. He was testing her. Setting her up for a death trap, on purpose. Hanami’s blood fills with a sense of infuriation and betrayal, feeling like a rat in a maze being overlooked by a crazed scientist.

He didn’t think I was capable.

Turning away from Gojo, she conceals the look of dejection moving, fast, back towards the cabin.

The current of air in Miyama feels lighter than it had been when she first arrived. With the ‘banishing’ of the formidable spirit, the series of attacks had stopped but those who were placed in a coma could not be revived and had met their fateful end. Hanami has left the window open, even as the sun sets leaving a pinkish streaks across the sky; a cool breeze hits her face as she nurses a cup of tea in hand. Satoru sits in front of her, his long legs outstretched before him scarfing down a bowl of ramen, occasionally flickering his gaze to her. The fact that she’s alive and barely unharmed will come as a shock to Yaga, but soon they will have the same rank. Hanami will no longer be his inferior, not that Gojo has ever seen her as one. But banishing the Kim Hongjoong, that’s something the new generation of jujitsu sorcerers will have to live up to.

“Satoru.” He hums, looking up from his bowl. His eyes are so blue, like a strict ocean blue she could get lost in its depths. But they’re not brown like Hongjoong’s. Or warm, like his was. Gojo’s eyes are marked with his rebellious nature whereas Hongjoong’s was wrought with maturity and understanding. She’s drawn to the latter and it stirs a pit of fear within her. She contemplates asking him if Yaga had truly set her up. ‘Does it matter?’, Gojo would say. ‘You beat him’, but she does not feel victorious. Before her lips can open to form the words, a crack of thunder beats against the sky, the clouds dimming to a melancholic grey. Her eyes peer out of the window, as an undercurrent of chaos simmers in the atmosphere. The slap of rain against the glass window echoes, haunting the remnants of the ghost temple.

“He’s not gone, you know.” Satoru’s tone is less light hearted now, dropping an octave manifesting into something more serious.

‘I know what will happen after this.’

Her eyes flutter to a close as the sword falls to her side. A small breath escapes her lips, she doesn't really scold Gojo for his nonchalance. Primarily because she's exhausted now.

I’ll be waiting, Kim Hongjoong. 

All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: first fic in the ateez x jjk series complete! I hadn’t planned for this fic to be too long in the first place but hopefully it isn’t fast paced either. hopefully i’ve lived up to everyone’s expectations 😭

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tag list: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho @devilzliaison @asweetblueberry2 @arilevenatz @xdannix @yuyamihi

[merlucide]

Prayers in Silk

pairings 𓇼 Highschool!Satoru x Fem!Reader (enemies to lovers type)

synopsis 𓇼 it was new years in 2006, and as the year changes, so do the hearts of two people. At the shrine on the cold new years morning, you and Satoru make your wishes, unaware that the prayer he holds is far more significant than you realize.

warnings 𓇼 light cursing, cheesy bit at the end

word-count 𓇼 2.6k

“Ehhh?! You’re seriously wearing a kimono?! In this weather!?” Gojo bafflingly exclaimed, pointing at your satin yellow kimono. “Uhh? You aren’t dressed up?!” You glare at his comment, crossing your arms. He was wearing his grey sweatpants and a his navy blue jacket, quite boring compared to your glamorous look. It was New Year’s Day and you were going to Hatsumode, which is the first shrine visit of the new year. You wanted to look nice in the presence of the Kami’s, is there something so wrong with that?

To Gojo Satoru, apparently it was. “Too much effort, and like, it’s freezing,” He retorted stuffing his hands back into his jacket. It wasn’t actively snowing, but ice ice glazed the sidewalks, and frost dusted the bamboo, creating a picturesque—albeit chilly—path to the shrine. You had originally made plans with Shoko to go to the shrines, that somehow turned into an invitation for Gojo and Geto as well. And you had no problem with that, except Gojo. He was insufferable—loud, smug, and annoyingly good at getting under your skin, and unfortunately he liked getting under yours the best.

You let out a dry sigh and rub your hands together, “Where’s Geto?” You ask, looking around for the black-haired boy. those two are like one in the same, it’s odd to catch one without the other. “They needed him for an emergency mission or something,” He answered nonchalantly. You hummed in acknowledgement, a few minutes later a ‘ding!’ went off and you pulled out your phone. A notification from ‘Shoko-tan<3’. you opened the message.

‘Hey sorry can’t meet- they dragged me in on an emergency mission. Sorry again (*´Д｀*)’

You sighed deeply through your nose and closed the lid, sliding it back into your kimono’s obi securely. Gojo’s brow raised at you slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as if he was about to comment on how “traditional” you looked, but he bit back the remark with a smirk.

You clapped your hands against your red cheeks and turned towards the frozen stone steps. “Shoko can’t come, I’m going now,” you firmly state, not sparing a glance at the snow-haired boy as you make your ways into the bamboo enclosed path. Gojo blinks a few times and trails behind eyeing you. The path to the shrine was filled of red and black torii above your heads. “Sooo, whatcha gonna ask for eh?” He drawls, blowing air into his hands. You sigh, “I don’t know yet.” “You should pray for a boyfriend, you probably won’t get one otherwise,” He smirks, head tilted towards the sky, avoiding your gaze.

You abruptly turn “Excuse me?!” You scoff, “Well for your information I was asked out multiple times in the past few months!” You glare at him, which he just sticks his tongue out tauntingly. Your dating life has always been amusing to Gojo for some reason. Always poking fun at you for not having a boyfriend yet or how you’ll end up alone or whatever nonsense he can come up with to elicit a reaction from you.

You sharply exhale and continue down the path, it was a bit busy as expected, but not nearly as busy as you thought it would be. You also went much earlier to avoid the crowd. “Well then, what are you going to ask for, hm?” You spare a quick glance to him. “Meh, I don’t care, maybe a free ticket to America. Never been,” you stare at him baffled, ‘seriously?’ you think. “..You’re going to ask… for a plane ticket?” You echo. “Yeah, never been sounds cool, besides the chicks there are super hot,” he exclaimed on the last bit. “A plane ticket? Are you serious?” You exasperatedly ask. “What? It’s a wish, isn’t it?” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll send you a postcard.”

“You know this is the time to ask about like— health and happiness right?”

“Duuuh, I did grow up ‘tradish’ y’know,” he replies mockingly, adjusting his glasses up. You just shrug and turn your gaze to the shrines entrance. You step underneath the temizuya, the water basin had ice on the sides of the walls, the temple keepers had already cleared the ice out, no doubt it was freezing. You took your right hand and took the ladle, scooping it and pouring the water into your left hand. ‘Oh it was freezing!’ You shudder, “You’d think they’d have like, a heater or something, ugh,” you groan, switching the ladle to your left hand and pouring it on your right. This was the purification process, it’s how you show respect and properly participate in the ritual. And as much as you want to make the Kami’s proud and honor them, this sucked ass.

You poured a little bit of water into your left, holding it up to your lips and rinse your mouth. Now’s not the time to think of germs. You swish it around a few times, then spit it to the side of the basin. Gojo chuckles behind you about who knows what, “Oh hush, it’ll be your turn soon,” you tilt the ladle upright, watching the water trickle back down into basin. Then you hand it to Gojo, who takes it and steals your place. He repeats the process with a little more complaints than you, ‘THIS IS FUCKING COLD.’ You just snicker watching him, then you continue into the shrine.

“Seriously, that sucked,” Gojo moans, stuffing his wet cold hands back into his jacket. “Shush already, be caaaaalm,” you mock, both of you walking on the side of the path, nodding at those leaving. You make it to the main shrine, it was brown and red, like most temples. this one wasn’t very big, since you didn’t go to the cities shrine, figuring that would be much more busier. It was small and modest. The concrete torii stood in front of the shrine, moss growing on the top, little komainu stood next to it, and there was little circle candles on both sides of the shrine. 

You stood in front of the offering box and dropped in your five yen. Gojo repeated the action, flipping it off his thumb. You both faced the shrine, and bow deeply twice. Then clapped your hands twice, in sync, then you both tilted your head down in prayer.

You had thought deeply a few days prior of what you would ask for. Your life wasn’t perfect, but you were happy—that wasn’t what you wanted to ask for. You weren’t poor, nor were you rich, but that was fine too. What you wanted wasn’t something material. Maybe it was love, maybe it was clarity, or maybe it was just the strength to navigate the path ahead. Man, this was hard. As a jujutsu sorcerer, tomorrow is never promised. You accepted that, you knew one day you would probably die against a curse. That hit harder after your kouhai died. You don’t want anyone around you to have the same fate. You bowed your head slightly and pressed your hands tighter together. “Please let those I care about have a long and happy life… and maybe let me figure out my own along the way.”

You open you eyes and stand up, Gojo was already standing, waiting for you. You bow deeply once more and turn to face him. “So what did you end up asking for?” He asks, piercing blue eyes peeking behind his slipping glasses. You shrugged softly, “For those around me to live their lives to the fullest,” you reply, dusting off your kimono. Gojo snickers, “Gosh you really are so selfless,” He praises mockingly. You click your tongue, “Well then, what did you end up asking for, hm?” “Tickets,” “Are you serious?!” You exclaim. You seriously thought he was joking, how stupid is he. You shake your head. ‘unbelievable’. 

He just gives his cheeky boyish grin he always gives you, oh how you hated that smile. You both left the main shrine, making your way to the shop booth to buy omamori. You figured you’d get one for Shoko since she couldn’t make it. You looked at the colorful options, picking up a blue omamori with written kanji, ‘protection’. You looked for one for yourself, you already asked for protection and guidance, so what charm should you get?

“Hey, what are you getting?” You ask, turning to the lanky boy. “Gotta guarantee that I stay number one,” Gojo smirks, dangling a yellow omamori, kanji reading as ‘success’. “Meh, I’ll get Suguru a ‘protection from bad luck’, sounds good enough.” 

Your fingers ghosted over the pink one, lifting it up and brushing your finger pads over the lettering.

You paid for both of you, because Gojo apparently ‘forgot his wallet’, ironic since he’s fucking loaded. You put yours and Shoko’s omamori into your obi, the tassels sticking out ever so slightly. You both begin the journey out of the shrine grounds. The sun had begun to melt the frost, it hadn’t warmed up much but it still felt warmer. That was when you came face to face with the crowd, oh it’s a wonderful thing you went earlier. It was kind of ridiculous just how many people went to the shrine for Hatsumode. Gojo bends down to the shell of your ear, lowly speaking, “Good thing we got here when we did.” Groups of family and friends pooled in, squeezing against each other. You and Gojo were pushed to the very edge of the path due to the crowd, a girl passed you in a lavender and pink kimono. “See, I’m not the only person dressed up,” you boast, smirking at the boy who was wordlessly mocking your comment. 

You and Gojo squeezed your way through the narrowing path, the weight of the crowd pressing in from all sides. People were pushing and shoving, their chatter creating a constant buzz in the air, but it felt oddly isolating. You were still too aware of Gojo standing just a few inches behind you, his presence impossible to ignore. You could feel the heat of his body just behind you, his breath warm against the back of your neck. It was an oddly intimate feeling, and you refused to acknowledge it. 

But just as you turned to throw a glance back at him, to make sure he was still with you, someone bumped into your shoulder, pushing you backward into Gojo. You stumbled slightly, surprised by the force of the collision, but before you could step away, you realized something was different.

Gojo hadn’t moved.

In fact, his hands—his hands were now firmly holding your arms, steadying you.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, everything felt oddly still. Gojo’s hands held onto your forearms, and the usual barrier,—the feeling that he was untouchable, inaccessible—had melted away. His Infinity, his usual shield, was absent in that moment.

You didn’t know if he meant to lower it, or if it was a slip-up, but his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary before he quickly pulled back, his usual smirk sliding back into place as though nothing had happened. “You fallin’ for me too?” he said nonchalantly, his tone teasing, but there was something else in his eyes—something fleeting, almost imperceptible.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide the rush of warmth in your cheeks. “Watch where you’re going, dummy,” “YOU BUMPED INTO ME?!” You rolled your eyes and continued pushing through the mess of people. 

The moment passed, but it left an unspoken question hanging in the air between you two. ‘he’s so annoying’ you thought, that’s definitely what you thought.

The crowd was finally thinning out, and with a sigh of relief, you stepped through the last few groups of people, Gojo following at your side. The shrine’s path grounds were gradually clearing, and the chill in the air didn’t feel quite so biting anymore. You adjusted the fabric of your kimono, a subtle movement that caught Gojo’s eye as you did. A small piece of pink caught his attention from the edge of your obi—the tassel of your omamori peeking out.

Gojo didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual. That pink hue—he knew exactly what it meant. Love. The omamori meant for romance, for heart’s desires. It was so clearly sentimental that it almost made him roll his eyes. He quickly shifted his gaze away, though, as if he hadn’t seen it at all. You were probably the type to hope for something soft, something you could hold onto. He wasn’t the type to believe in things like that.

It wasn’t hard to imagine why you’d chosen it, though the thought of you wishing for something like that… It stirred something strange in him. You’d picked something soft, hopeful. Did you even realize what that said about you? You acted so tough, sharp edges and biting remarks, but this? This was something else entirely.

As you turned ahead, tucking the tassel back into the folds of your kimono, Gojo’s smirk returned, casual, but with an undercurrent of something else. His gaze softened for just a split second before he looked away again. His hands found their way into his jacket pockets, the silence stretching between you both.

“Guess we’re headed in different directions now,” Gojo said, his voice low, almost as if the words didn’t fully match the thoughts behind them. “Good luck with that wish of yours. Cya at school.”

You didn’t quite catch the weight behind his words, brushing them off as just another one of his teasing remarks. You nodded, walking ahead without a second glance. 

As your figure retreated, Gojo lingered behind for a moment longer, standing at the edge of the steps, watching you as you walked away. His hand brushed against the omamori in his pocket, the action so subtle it could’ve been missed by anyone else. But to Gojo, it was something more. It was a reminder of the prayer he made, the charm he chose.

Success, yes. But there was more to it than that. The charm was supposed to symbolize the strength to keep going, to push forward. But what Gojo had truly wished for, what he had really prayed for, was simpler than that. 

—He’d lied, of course—he hadn’t wished for plane tickets. That was just a convenient story to cover up the truth. He’d stood at the shrine, hands clasped loosely, head bowed just enough to make it look like he cared about decorum. But his mind had only been on one thing. On you.

He had wished for you. Not in the way your omamori was about love, no, not that. But he had prayed for the strength to keep you safe, to give you the life you deserved—the life where you didn’t have to fear the world or what it might take from you.

He had prayed for the kind of strength that would allow him to be by your side, to protect you, to ensure that no curse would ever hurt you. Maybe you didn’t realize it, but Gojo saw the way your smile lit up even in the darkest moments, the way you kept going despite everything. And he couldn’t stand the idea of you ever losing that light.

So, he held his omamori tight, fingers curling around the small charm, as a quiet breath slipped past his lips. He didn’t need to tell you what he’d really wished for. You wouldn’t understand. But in that moment, Gojo made a promise to himself: he would do whatever it took to make sure your life, your happiness, was something that could never be taken from you.

You may have prayed for the happiness of others, but Gojo? He prayed for yours—and for the chance to be the one who made it possible.

I have 4 things to say:

This rlly tested my Japanese culture knowledge 😭🙏

I got excited writing this bc there’s a chance I can go back to Japan in a year or two!!

this was mostly proofread but shit probably doesn’t make all sense 😭

oh my gosh editing the colors took forever HELPP

feedback + Reblogs appreciated pls! :)

made November 27th 2024 (I’m excited for Christmas season okay??)

[seneon]

IN MEMORY, YOU LIVE ──── ghost¡touya × fem¡reader.

about. in which, the dead lives by the memories of the living, and you're here to remember his soul. touya is deceased soldier from WWII. reader is a christian who prays. this is a bittersweet romance with religious themes, japanese culture, and lots of dialogues. touya might be ooc in some parts. inspired by coco and a whisker away. wc of 3100+

notes. in commemoration of all souls day, in which i celebrate. honestly i wrote this after remembering a sunday school class i had about purgatory and prayers LMAO. so it's kinda self indulgent. i miss my grandfather dawg.

THE SUN KISSED YOUR SKIN as your eyes are shielded shut from the bright sunlight. with your palms pressed against each other and your thumbs making a small cross, prayers ran down your tongue in a quiet voice.

time isn't of essence. it never was, especially when you spend your time praying. forget about time whenever you pray, it was never important. they could drag out to minutes and to hours and you would forget all about time as if it never existed in the first place.

with your knee that started to numb after having kneeled on one cold pavement for so long, you finally moved to sit, your eyes slowly opening to land on the tomb laid out right in front of you.

it's an unknown tomb, belonging to a soul whose history or family you do not know of. there's only a name, dates, and a simple insignia of the military carved onto the stone of the tomb.

touya todoroki, the name bearer of this tomb.

this disheveled tomb is covered in nothing but mere grass and dirt that stains it dirty. you tried your best to clean it up. it seems it's been here for a few decades and no one in his lineage exists to care for it anymore.

what a bittersweet ending. a soldier of the military army decades ago is left to rot in his grave and to have his existence wiped off from the face of the earth. not even an image of him continues to live on in this world.

touya todoroki must be sad to be forgotten.

“. . . . all this i ask through Christ my Lord, amen,” you gave the grave a little bow before signing a cross to end the prayer. then for the rest of the morning up until the twelfth hour, you sit in silence to gaze upon the tomb of this forgotten man, soft strings of words flows out.

heaven knows why you are so attached to this specific tomb. you remembered it as clear as day— how you happen to be walking by in boredom after praying to your deceased ancestors for all souls day. your feet carried you to the path back home, but it felt as if your soul was being pulled by the strings of the tomb bearer.

curiousity strikes you in that moment, like a spear that was driven through your chest to keep you steady. this man— touya todoroki, his tomb and the area is so unkempt you knew it was untouched for decades. he must've lost all ties with his family.

it's the fourteenth hour now. you've eaten your fair share while absentmindedly staring at the grave of the unknown. to not come across as rude to the dead, you left a fresh box of soba noodles and a clean set of chopsticks beside the candles which had been melted over the course of a few hours.

“i bid you good-bye now, mr touya todoroki,” you softly said and stood up to brush the cemetery dirt off your clothes. with one last glance that promises the dead that you will return for the next visit, you turned your feet away.

yet you could not even blink. not even a second passed. it felt as if the speed of light did not exist at that moment. your footsteps walked into a world that did not exist before up until a few milliseconds ago.

your heart fell from a cliff into a pit of fear as you are now greeted with a rather mountainous view. fogs and mists veil the atmosphere, along with a single torii gate in sight as your eyes travel everywhere but behind you.

all because you felt a presence right where your blind spot is. a presence so heavy that you felt eyes burning into your clothes to carve your bare skin with piercing eyes underneath with its gaze.

“soba, huh?” a deep voice echoes through your ears as you slowly turn your head at where you heard the voice coming from. your throat is dry as your sights are landed on a man sitting on the tomb of touya todoroki, the deceased soldier who has no more place in this world. “leaving so soon?”

“g-get off there,” you choked out, fingers curling to compress any visible fear that might crawl up to twitch at your nerves.

the man simply tilts his head at your words. he's so attractive, handsome. your very first few thoughts about this mysterious man. white hair, scars that gnaws deep into his skin, those turquoise eyes.

if anything, this man is the epitome of magazine beauty. his choice of clothing is odd though, who still wears army clothing these days?

“and why should i get off?”

“because that grave belongs to somebody.”

a chuckle escapes from that man's lips as he leaned his arms on his knees, eyes digging his existence into your presence. “i am that somebody. this is my grave. don't you see that? you talk to me all the time when you come to this shitty graveyard.”

“you're ly—”

“you just prayed for my forgotten soul, sat down, and stared to me for at least two hours. what lie are you speaking of?”

your silence hugs you tight as his words slowly sinks into your mind, finding solace in your soul as you tilted your own head and let out a small “oh.”

“mr touya todoroki? why are you visible, and speaking to me now?”

curiousity clearly reeks in your question and tone as the said man stood up from his tomb, his figure enveloping you as if you are nothing but a mere rat when a cat is chasing your tail.

“because… sweet praying girl, you're either dead, or in the process of dying.”

where's the sun when you need it to give you a sweet, warm hug? where's the brightness of the day that kisses your skin so gently? where is the light of day in this foggy, misty area?

when you looked behind touya, only his grave seemed to exist in this cold, mountainous place. the same old grave that you always sit or squat in front of to offer up the humblest of prayers. you don't even know this soul, yet you still pray for his soul to be free and for God's mercy to be poured upon touya.

now the utter reality is slowly being punctured into your mind. it felt like rocks being thrown at your head, then boulders slowly falling down the top of the mountain to crush your skull as reality sets in.

“walk with me as i brief you about the land of the dead. well at least, this land of the dead belongs to the eastern asians. explains why it's all fogs and mists and mountains,” touya walked ahead of you, his hand moving to wear his military cap, covering his beautiful white hair.

you could recognise that cap anywhere. it's the pillar of a japanese soldier's uniform. the star in the middle is all you needed to know that this man is of honour. or at least, honourable in some ways.

“when you say i’m either dead or dying, how do i know of it? what does that even mean?” your feet carried you to walk beside touya.

“if you're dead, you'd know what impacted you at the last second before you wake up here. when you're dying, you're connected to the dead. heavily connected.”

the dead man walks through a forest. he seems to know so much of this place, having spent probably decades in this afterlife. his presence is quite strong, you can feel him as if he were a real, living being. touya seems to read your mind with your little analysis.

“your prayers have brought me back,” touya said and held up a falling tree branch, ushering you to walk ahead before he went after you and dropped his hands.

“how? also, i don't think i have been impacted. i simply took a step away from your grave and suddenly i’m met with this .. mysteriously new place.”

the man proceeds his journey ahead, leading you to wherever he desires as you follow behind, millions of questions swarming your mind.

“when you die, you live again in the afterlife with the memories of you back in the living world. if nobody remembers you, you disappear for some shitty reason. and why you are here? well i don't know. figure it out yourself as you spend the rest of your day here.”

touya's chin gestured towards the clearing of view from the forest. it's now set into a view of a busy village. it's still afternoon, you supposed, since the day is still bright and just a tad bit warmer now than the mountain.

as rural as it can get, everyone who exists in this moment seemed to wear clothing throughout history, some even foreign to you.

there's a descending staircase that seemed to stretch on forever. yet touya still walks down anyways, expecting you to trail behind him as he leads you into this village that has buildings and homes stacked up everywhere.

there's a tree, similar to yggdrasil of the norse, the tree of life. which is connected to the heavens and earth. this tree, however, seems to provide shelter for every soul wandering into the land of the dead.

“it's like… a super duper big treehouse…” you murmured under your breath, taking in the sight of this worldly view as you descended the staircase and slowly presented yourself to the afterlife.

“it's where the dead people live. unlike the mexican afterlife which has sprinting colours and music and all the cultural stuff, we have a rather calming afterlife. just like how every eastern asians prefers it.”

after what felt like over a decade of descending, your footsteps came to a halt. first step onto the ground, and the sky is all dark with warm lights that emitted the atmosphere. it was breathtaking. that was all it meant to you and all you could say in this moment. your eyes widened in awe, lips curving upwards in a huge smile.

at first, you expected to be greeted with the agonising pain of tiredness from descending, but there was only peace and tranquility. this scenery that brought you all kinds of warmth on the inside had sucked in any negativity you were feeling— both physically and mentally.

“dead people things,” touya reminded you as he marched forward to immediately blend into the crowd of dead souls and busy streets. “mr touya, wait!”

“catch up, praying girl. or i’ll lose you easily,” he glanced back, and his words went straight to your heart. they're meant to mean that he'll lose you easily in the crowd and this busy afterlife, but to you it sounded more personal. like when you were leaving his grave just a moment ago but ended up here.

you apologised and quickly went to his side to hold his sleeves so your distance wouldn't be separated again. touya's traditional, you assumed, since he's not the type to let girls hang on his sleeves.

he must be quite reserved and stoic back in history, considering the way he tugged you off his sleeves to hold your hands in a loose grip instead. “don't let go,” he said as you nodded in compliance, squeezing his hands a little tighter as touya led you through the bustling streets.

the two of you walked, walked, and walked for what seemed like forever in this solace of a giant tree until he stopped in front of the foot of the giant tree. you paused to admire the size for a moment, the roots spreading down into the earth and possibly even touching the opening of hell.

touya walked, and you followed, approaching the edge of a big lake that surrounded the tree as if to protect it. much to your displeasure, he unhooked his hands from you, leaning down to look at his reflection at the surface of the lake. you followed him, looking at your own reflection, before stealing a glance at his reflection.

such a reflection that speaks of sorrow and silent suffering. it tugs at your heartstrings how a soul could look so sad.

“sit down,” touya says, and you obey to sit with him on the grass, gazes still locked onto yourselves in the water.

“this is the lake of prayers. it's where every prayer ever said to a soul is stored,” he explains. “each soul has a colour assigned to you. it wraps around the prayers like a glowing ball of light.”

“what is your colour, then?”

touya leans forward to dip his fingers into the waters. very quickly, a small amount of ball-like glows of turquoise surfaced from the bottom to surround his fingers, gently dancing in the water. he then caught a glow and allowed the ball-like shape to melt in his palms.

words fell onto his palm, overflowing onto the grass as your voice filled both your ears, causing your eyes to slightly widen.

“it's my voice..” you trailed off and touched the grass where your prayers have spilled onto.

“yes. your voice. your prayers,” he allows the ball to fully melt before he reaches into the waters to take out a few more, all of them melting onto the grass. and all of them echo the faint sound of your voice. down until the last glow.

“they're all your prayers,” turquoise eyes attempt to seek comfort in your own eyes as you look at the todoroki. “you're the only living being that prayed for me,” touya's voice drops to a whisper and you frown at his words.

lonely soldier whom no other living being prayed for, touya todoroki. his existence is only relevant after so long where you randomly stumbled upon his disheveled grave.

“but that's— that's not fair,” your reply is soft, and touya finds that comforting. “why, mr touya? this is awfully sad.”

“this is what you get when you serve in the military and die in war. all you get is a name on your tombstone. they won't even retrieve your body from the battlefield.”

you watched as the man closes his fist after all the words have melted and he dips his whole hand into the waters to wash off the words.

“as i said before, i was about to fade away in forgotten memories, but you, sweet praying girl, you brought me back here.”

there's an unexplainable feeling that starts to swell deep inside your heart at this man's words. he's a random soul you just happen to keep praying for when you pass by his grave. it looked like nobody prays for him, so you took up the simple act of doing so.

but to hear as he utters such words out from his mouth, it makes you want to clench at your heart and squeeze it until it explodes.

“this isn't heaven or hell, right?” your question makes touya nod. “this is purgatory. the waiting room that lies between heaven and hell. this is where all prayers are heard, and where all sins and judgements are accessed. this is the garden for sinners.”

“how long have you been here?” you asked.

“longer than i could count.”

his hands are retrieved from the waters as he flicks them dry, shifting just a bit so he sits next to you with his gaze on the tree. “its not very nice to be forgotten. especially if you're the last one standing on the battlefield before being betrayed by your own army.”

you glanced at him. “betrayed by your own army…?”

“i’m a colonel, serving as the leader of my regiment. touya todoroki, as you know. to lead my regiment onto the battlefield and to be the last man standing before the other colonels strikes you down is hell. these scars all over me will always be a painful memory. i hate them.”

just a few minutes with touya was all it took to know all about him and his life. what a truly sorrowful story his life has led him on. the more you listen, the more your heart twists with sympathy.

he was a soul you didn't even know existed, yet now as he speaks of this large tree of life that rests, you can't help but feel the desperate need to embrace him. so as he runs his mouth, you shift close to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head to your chest like he is a child of some sort.

to feel a hug in what felt like an eternity definitely has touya freezing in shock, eyes widening as he stops speaking.

“it's okay,” you whispered, and he crumbled beneath you, his body melting into your warm embrace and his eyes shutting to wrap his own arms around your figure.

“nobody deserves to be forgotten. that's for sure. even in life or death, no one should be left alone,” you softly said, words wrapping around touya like a comforting veil as he lets your voice bring him to his own peace and tranquility.

when your fingers weaved themselves into his soft and snowy white hair, he let out a contented hum. it's so overwhelming for him that he can do nothing but bask in your sweet comforting embrace. you feel like your prayers which have been uttered to him back in the world of the living.

touya feels as if he doesn't need to wait for another eternity in purgatory just to disintegrate into nothing anymore.

“what's your name? touya asks you as he stands across from you. it's hours later, you believe, and you're back at where you first stepped foot in.

“it's y/n,” you replied, and he nodded. his fingers slithered to curl around your fading ones, having spent so long on this other side has caused your existence to be comfortable as if you are one of the dead. his thumbs brushes against your knuckles before he steps closer to lean to your level.

“thank you, y/n. for everything,” he leans close to gently press his lips onto yours before pulling away, a smile forming onto his scarred face. his fingers uncurled and he gently pushes you towards the torii gate.

“go. the living awaits you.”

you looked at him one last time before smiling on your own. “i won't ever forget you, touya. it's a promise. i hope to see you again.”

“me too. farewell now, y/n. and thank you again.”

as you step through the torii gate, the scene of the misty mountain disappears into the living world where the graveyard still exists. your eyes immediately travelled back to touya's place of resting, feeling a small smile forming on your face.

your fingers which have gone back to normal gently touched his tomb, letting your touch linger for a moment before you leaned down to kiss his tombstone, saying your farewells before walking away.

the memories of touya todoroki lives on, along with the lingering kiss on your lips which makes your eyes grow glossy at those memories. it appears your soul is just very attached to his, granting you one visit before touya takes his next step in the afterlife.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[pseudowho]

Infiltration, Chapter One: Introduction

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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Kento waited in Yaga's office, pacing, restless. He hadn't wanted you invited into Jujutsu High under these circumstances, knowing you needed time after your trauma, but he couldn't deny that his heart was pounding in anticipation. He had only approved of you being called because the mission you had, if you chose to accept it, would be shared. Together. With him.

He heard three short taps on the door and his heart leapt into his throat, feeling your cursed energy approach. He contained himself, outwardly unaffected, and walked to the door to let you in.

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You were overwhelmingly anxious before even entering the school grounds. You would visit your best friend's grave today, for the first time since losing her, and you would see...him. The man who was...what, to you? Your other best friend? Your confidante? The man composed of the same formula from which your own soul was made? Or just your lunch buddy? You didn't know. Whatever had been blooming between you had surely died in your absence.

Your numb feet had carried you across the frosted grass, under Torii gates and past effigies, down a short winding staircase to where graves-- too many graves -- nestled under the shadows of the trees' bare branches. Winding past the long sleep of names known and unknown, your hand brushed lovingly over Yuu Haibara's headstone, the tears already starting to blur your vision as you stopped in front of the grave of your own best friend. Just three months old, frost decorated the white stone like diamonds, and you sat heavily in front of it, knees drawn up and arms holding them to yourself as you wept bitterly into your jeans. You had promised to hold yourself together, to make a proper apology for failing to save her, but you poured garbled nonsense between your sobs, stroking the headstone as if it were her hand in yours.

Enough, you told yourself after ten minutes had passed, she deserved better and she still deserves better, so sort yourself out. Rising up, the back of your jeans damp and muddy, you proceeded to tend to the grave, cleaning and polishing, replacing flowers and leaving a small bottle of her favourite drink. In silence, you walked away, another brush of your hand bidding Haibara goodbye, and made your way up the many steps, to Principal Yaga's office.

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Kento opened the office door, and immediately met your eyes. Thousands of unspoken words passed between you both; Kento hesitated only briefly before stepping aside in invitation, and, upon closing the door, gently pressed a cup of tea into your hands. You had been crying, and smelled faintly of the cold forest floor, and you were the most beautiful thing Kento had ever seen. He had never had the chance to hold you, but now was not the time or place-- if he pulled you to him now, he ran the risk of never letting you go.

"How...how are you...Kento?" you asked weakly. Your words seemed flat and small, so utterly unlike you. Kento's heart creaked, a child's footsteps on old floorboards, and he ached to tell you how little his own wellbeing mattered to him now.

Kento sighed, gripping the back of a chair and leaning forwards. Your eyes drank in his thick, corded forearms, the way his navy shirt stretched over his back, the lick of fringe that hopped forwards over his forehead. God, I've missed you so much. The words turned to a cold drink as they slipped off your tongue and down into your stomach.

"I'm...better than you are, I'm sure. I'm sorry Yaga is asking for you back like this, you deserved more time. I don't know what they want from us. But I know it's together and some distance away. If you have any reservations, please speak up. I won't let them take advantage of you."

You sighed into your steaming mug, the vapour clouding your glasses for a moment-- Kento's heart thumped fondly-- and answered him.

"I feel like...if I'm not dragged back, I won't come back. And I know what you're going to say--" you raised your hand to Kento in a soothing gesture as he stood, ready to argue your case even against yourself, "-- but I want to be back. I miss the students. I miss the camaraderie. I miss...god, I even miss Gojo, idiot though he is. And if anyone in this place understands what I've been through, it's you."

A flash of pain crossed Kento's face, haunted by the memories of his dead friend, and you stepped to him, hand instantly placed over his harsh grip on the chair. You felt the tendons of his hands soften under yours.

"So I'll hear him out," you continued gently, "because I owe it to her, to all of you, and to myself to try this again."

Kento nodded, folding just one digit over the back of your palm to swipe against it in wordless communication. You blushed lightly, pleased he was looking at the floor. Hearing the click of the door behind you, you stepped apart from each other, caught in shared vulnerability. Yaga greeted you both, and the meeting began.

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Seven short days later, you stepped down from your front door, locking up with a shaky outward breath. Turning to Kento, waiting for you by his car, he returned your hesitant smile with one of genuine warmth, brown eyes twinkling with affection.

"It suits you," he teased, putting your suitcase into the car as you twiddled your new ring nervously. You punched the top of his arm playfully.

"I could say the same to you...darling." Kento buried his head in the car, pretending to organise the suitcases as he blushed, alarmed by how natural a wedding ring already felt on his hand. Stepping back, he looked down at you, stern and unamused, but opening your door for you nonetheless. His heart soared at the first natural smile he had seen from you in months. Closing your door, he stepped to his own, feeling teenagerishly proud to have you in his passenger seat.

"Let's go over things just once more on the way?" You asked him. Kento hummed affirmingly, turning the heating on, and gently clasping your hands in his own against the air vents.

"Warm up," he ordered as the car rumbled to life. Bringing one arm up around the back of your seat, your breath caught in your chest as he turned backwards, thin eyebrows raised and one arm outstretched on the wheel as he made the car glide backwards out of the driveway. A waft of his cologne, familiar and woody, hit your nose as he passed his arm back, his fingertips (accidentally?) grazing your shoulder, and he began to drive.

"So," you started, trying not to stutter, "we are the...Tsuda family." Kento hummed his affirmation again. "Mr and Mrs." A short cough, and another hum. "Married for two years, but together..."

"Forever, basically," Kento interjected quickly-- too quickly, he cursed himself-- before clearing his throat and continuing, "All I mean is...it has only ever been me and you. Us. Easier than...messy exes." His ears crept with crimson as your laughter twinkled through his car.

How the fuck am I going to get through this without completely giving myself away? Kento felt utterly tortured, trapped between the divinity of your company and the agony of not knowing it more intimately.

You talked for hours, barely needing to fill each other in on the details of your lives-- you had had so many late lunches, so many late-night post-mission calls-- and instead focused on the upcoming plans.

"So, our informants are certain this cult is at the centre of a significant increase in skilled and armed curse-users, but they only seem to accept married couples as new members, both of whom should display significant jujutsu sorcery skills or the potential to do so," Kento mused, "which I have a theory for."

"Breeding," you both said, shooting each other a sideways glance and blush. Kento cleared his throat.

"Quite. It's certainly one way to grow your cult's power."

"It's eugenics in the making," you spat, "I'm sure Suguru Geto approves."

A rumble which went straight to your core came from Kento's chest, and he spoke, "Or, we end up with a Curse-user turf war. Either way, they've already been responsible for dozens of deaths and disappearances. We take them out."

Eyeing Kento admiringly, you didn't fancy the curse-users' chances against him. Your own ability, to compel the thoughts or desires of others, had some application in combat, but largely lent itself to support and reconnaissance. The cursed-energy tumbling off the giant beside you was in no way second to his commanding physique or quick mind. Unaware, you unashamedly stared at Kento, eyes taking in his thick thighs, tan trousers stretched enticingly over them and the subtle bulge between his legs, and up to his cheekbones, razor sharp and framing such a handsome face--

Before you could murmur your agreement, you caught yourself, turning swiftly to look out the window, blush creeping across your cheeks.

Unbeknownst to you, Kento stole glances while he drove, taking you in...the gentle curve of your breasts into your waist, the bow of your lips, bright eyes behind curtained lashes. He swallowed, bidding his blood to rush elsewhere. He focused on the road.

"Regardless...we've been accepted, pending Face-to-Face interview. Ijichi and the team built our false profiles, all we have to do is prove our cursed techniques, and we're part of the cult."

"I'm delighted," you chirped, "what a lovely anniversary gift, my love."

"Only the best for my girl," Kento rumbled, playing along. Neither of you knew how delighted the other was by the charade.

But, while you felt completely safe, reassured by Kento's presence, Kento felt that his heart had been removed from his chest, and walked away from him, directly into battle. He did not have his blade, too much of a giveaway, and instead planned to imbue his energy into his fists. You, however, had to rely purely on your wiles and intellect to survive. Kento knew he would punch a hole through a god to keep you safe.

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Ornate compound gates surrounded a beautiful traditional Japanese village, nestled between mountain ranges and clear rivers. As Kento crawled the car skillfully around peaks and narrow roads, you felt trepidation sink into you as, on approaching the entrance, you felt the thrum of Cursed energy seep, cold and unwelcome, into your belly.

Kento pulled up to vast gates, taking a deep, calm breath and pressing the intercom; a tinny buzz, a click, and--

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Tsuda Kento. I'm here with my wife," Kento lied smoothly. Silence.

"Come in," said the voice, accompanied by the heavy creak of the automatic gates swinging open. Kento's chin dipped, clench-jawed and staring intently ahead as he pulled forwards into an expansive driveway of pale grey gravel, a temple lying quiet and still in the distance.

Now afraid, suddenly full of doubt, you grasped at the potential consequences of your decision to return to Jujutsu High. You felt Kento's hand reach for yours, anchoring you. You turned to him, eyes full of fear.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise you this. I'd die to get you out alive." You squeezed Kento's hand between your own, warm and strong, unable to tell him that the loss of him would drive you past the edge of despair.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Chapter 2: Pillow talk link HERE!

[belit0]

Indra and uchiha with a partner who is a Miko (priestess) who looks after the Inari Temple which has a forest full of playful foxes that become unruly when someone brings treats or udon.

I did my little research, as I always do when I lack knowledge about what is requested, and I hope it is properly carried out… but yeah

Indra

Indra did not believe in omens. Not in gods, not in spirits, not in superstition.

And yet—

As he stood at the edge of the temple grounds, watching the foxes coil around (Y/N) like living flames, he felt something ancient stir in his chest.

She was kneeling, fingers brushing through soft fur, laughter slipping past her lips as a particularly bold kit tugged at the hem of her robes. The other foxes, sensing the promise of food, swarmed at her feet—tails flicking, eyes gleaming, sharp little teeth snapping at one another in competition.

The moment someone brought udon to the temple, all order crumbled.

A deep, aggravated sigh left Indra as another fox leaped onto his shoulder—uninvited. Disrespectful creatures. He reached up, about to push it off, when (Y/N) called out, her voice teasing:

–Careful, Indra. If you don’t show them kindness, they’ll curse you with mischief.

His gaze flickered to her, unimpressed.

–Mischief is the last thing they should attempt with me.

But she only smiled, her eyes knowing, serene.

And Indra hated it.

Because the way she looked at him—like she saw through his cynicism, through his disbelief—unsettled him more than the foxes ever could.

Madara

Madara never took orders from anyone.

Not from the elders, not from his enemies—certainly not from foxes.

And yet, here he was, standing stiffly in the middle of the Inari Temple’s forest, surrounded by a riot of orange fur and accusing stares.

(Y/N) had told him, warned him, that bringing udon would lead to disaster.

–They’ll demand a share. And if you don’t give it… well.

He had scoffed.

Now?

He stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight, a dozen foxes perched on the wooden torii gate above him—tails flicking, eyes glinting with outrageous entitlement.

(Y/N) stood at a distance, watching the scene unfold with poorly concealed amusement.

–You should just give them some, Madara.– she suggested, her voice far too light.

His eye twitched.

–I don’t negotiate with animals.

A beat.

An ambush.

Small paws pushed against his back, a sudden weight landed on his shoulder, another darted between his legs—Madara, the mighty Uchiha warlord, stumbled.

Laughter. Her laughter.

And as he straightened, scowling, foxes happily devouring the udon he had dropped, he thought—

Perhaps this was the true trickster deity of the temple.

Not the foxes.

But her.

Izuna

Izuna loved two things in life: fighting and winning.

But what he loved more than anything was teasing (Y/N).

–So, Miko-sama, does the mighty Inari favor me today?– he asked, flashing a grin, voice honey-sweet.

She gave him a flat look.

–Considering you just got bitten for trying to steal an offering? I doubt it.

Izuna huffed, holding up his hand where a very tiny, very smug fox had left a bite mark.

–You’re lucky they like you.– he muttered, shaking his hand out.

(Y/N) only smiled.

–They don’t just like me. They listen to me.

And to prove her point, she clapped her hands together—soft, deliberate.

The foxes turned, their sharp eyes snapping toward her. The forest stilled, the air buzzing with something wordless, unseen.

Izuna froze.

Then, before he could react, the foxes launched.

(Y/N) had never laughed harder as he bolted, a dozen foxes chasing him through the temple grounds.

Obito

Obito thought foxes were cute.

Until they became demons.

He had entered the temple with nothing but good intentions, a bag of sweet buns in hand, ready to visit (Y/N).

Not today.

Chaos.

A blur of fur, tails, teeth—a relentless onslaught.

By the time he reached (Y/N), half the buns were gone, stolen mid-run, his cloak in tatters, a kit still hanging off his sleeve, gnawing determinedly.

(Y/N), ever patient, sighed.

–Obito… did you bring food?

–I didn’t KNOW they could smell it from miles away!– he protested, throwing his arms up. The kit on his sleeve yelped as it swung wildly.

(Y/N) pried the fox off him gently, stroking its fur before letting it go. Then, looking at his pathetic state, she smiled.

–Come inside. I’ll make you some more.

And as Obito followed, still grumbling, he thought—

The foxes weren’t the real reason he kept coming back.

Shisui

Shisui had a knack for getting into trouble.

So when he accidentally stepped into the temple with an offering meant for the shrine, he had no idea he was about to start a riot.

One second—peace.

The next—fur, claws, tails in his face, foxes yipping in delight.

(Y/N) arrived just in time to see him climbing onto the torii gate for safety, foxes swarming below.

–Shisui.– she called, unimpressed.

Perched like a man whose life depended on it, he gave a sheepish grin.

–I, uh… may have broken a rule?

(Y/N) sighed.

–Come down.–

–They’ll eat me alive.

Her lips twitched.

–They’re foxes, Shisui, not wolves.

–Tell that to the one with murder in his eyes.– he muttered, pointing to a particularly large fox at the front, ears flattened in pure offense.

(Y/N) simply knelt, murmuring something soft—a command, a reassurance, a prayer.

The foxes settled.

Shisui blinked.

Then, cautiously, he climbed down, landing beside her with a huff.

–…You’re kinda hot when you’re bossy, Miko-sama.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes.

The foxes nipped at his ankles.

Itachi

Itachi did not mind the foxes.

They were clever, quiet, watchful. He respected that.

But they were also—selective.

And, for reasons unknown, they had deemed Itachi a rival.

(Y/N) found him sitting beneath the shrine’s veranda, a fox staring him down from a few feet away. Unmoving. Unblinking.

–Itachi?

He exhaled slowly.

–…We are at an impasse.

(Y/N) bit back a smile.

–What did you do?

–Nothing.– Itachi’s gaze flickered to her. –That is the problem.–

(Y/N) kneeled beside him, reaching out. The fox’s posture shifted—ears perking, tail flicking—before it bounded into her arms, nuzzling against her robes.

Itachi watched, unreadable.

(Y/N) glanced at him, teasing.

–Perhaps they sense you don’t know how to play.

His lips curved—just slightly.

–Perhaps they know that I do not intend to lose.

And the fox, sensing the unspoken challenge, grinned.

[photographed-stars]

Religion has always been an influence on BSD, particularly Buddhism, Christianity, and Shintoism. For Ueda and Atsushi, they are connected to all those religions, Shintoism, though, more so than the other two.

Ueda said in their “1,500 years”, which means they were at least around in 6th century Japan. In 6th century Japan, there was mostly an influence from China, Buddhism, and Shintoism growing. Coincidentally, in Chinese myths, when a tiger had turned 500, then that tiger would become a white tiger, “Byakko”. What I’m saying is, Atsushi’s ability, Byakko, is his connecting piece to Ueda. If Byakko became THE Byakko in the year 500, then it would match up to the historical context of Ueda’s time. And, it fits nice since that would mean that Byakko came to be in the year 0, which could be the connecting piece to Christianity.

But what does this have to do with Ueda? IRL Ueda was said to have some Shinto inspirations in his works. A key part in Shintoism is kami - their ‘demons’, sort of like monsters to us. Byakko, though of Chinese origin, could be seen to be treated like those Kami. For Ueda, I propose that they were actually a Shinto priest. When Ame-no-gozen appeared as the singularity, its domain was that of Torii, those iconic red gates. Torii are entrances to Shinto temples. And, Ame-no-gozen, Ueda’s sword, was originally used for religious ceremonies way back 1500 years ago, leading back to Shintoism. So, Byakko is a kami & Ueda was a Shinto priest at the same time. Much of main series BSD ties back to the light novels, these current chapters specifically to Dead Apple. In Dead Apple, we saw Atsushi visit the tiger room & see his origins with Shibusawa, who got iconic scarring on his left eye from Byakko. In chapter 123, we meet Ueda, a character with a scar on their left eye, who was accessed in an area that only Atsushi could reach due to Byakko and his trauma. I think that Byakko gave Ueda that scar. How? Ueda was asked to do a ceremony with Byakko, maybe a ceremony to seal it away due to its powers or to seal it as a safe bookmark (little thing - never specified what type of bookmark Byakko is like. It could very well be those corner flips, and if it is, then Byakko’s analogy could be that it was flipped too much and the next page started to show, like how Byakko or Ame-no-gozen are showing the future due to their being). But, that ceremony went wrong, causing Byakko to slash Ueda’s face & Ueda to be the one blamed or sealed away in the 4th dimension - they used Ame-no-gozen wrong, now they live in Ame-no-gozen’s space. Now, 1500 years later, the vessel of Byakko meets Ueda in the place Byakko condemned them, now asking for forgiveness.

[airandyeah]

Gimme Gimme Gimme (God!Sukuna X Reader) Pt.1

New Story! Hope you all like this one, it might be longer than By The Beach and Sweater Weather, who knows! My Masterlist Series Masterlist

Your family had been blessed with many sons in the line. Each son, or in the case of multiple sons, the eldest would tend to the small shrine in the woods. The shrine was close to a woodland minka your family had built ages ago, being updated and modernized to a certain extent to keep it livable. You were the eldest daughter of the bloodline. Not only that, but the following two children your mother gave birth too, were also women. Leaving you to take care of the shrine. You would not live a normal life. At the age of 21 you were sent to the woodland minka with nothing but a shrine-maidens clothes, pajamas and a few books. You would never marry, never date, never do anything except take care of the shrine, for most of the rest of your life. ~~~ The first week consisted mostly of sweeping as the dust and dirt built up over the rundown stone.

The second week was harder. The air in the woods, once fresh and invigorating, started to feel heavier. The isolation began to press on your chest as you scrubbed at the stone walls, searching for any traces of life in the forgotten corners. There were no visitors. No villagers coming for blessings, no offerings left at the shrine’s entrance. Only the sounds of the trees and the occasional rustle of the wind, teasing you with whispers from the forest.

You spent your days tending to the moss-covered lanterns that lit the way to the shrine, trying to keep the little offerings of food fresh, though it felt almost like a mockery. What did you serve to spirits that never came? What did they expect? ~~~ Soon you realized that you also needed to clean out the inside of the Hokora, pulling back the wooden doors left you coughing, dust and dirt assaulting your senses. There was a shift in the wind but you hadn't noticed as your coughing finally relaxed. You began to scrub it clean with water, then drying it as best you could with a towel. It was as you were wiping the sweat from your brow that you heard a deep chuckle behind you. You whipped around to find a hulking beast of a man. Four arms, four red eyes, a huge build, a bark-like half of his face, and vibrant pink locks on top of his head. His body was decorated in an extreme amount of tattoos, the text-book definition of a dangerous and paranormal entity.

You froze, every muscle in your body going stiff. The water in your hand sloshed as you dropped the rag, barely noticing it fall to the floor.

The creature, if it even could be called that, stood under the torii gate with a grin that seemed too wide for a normal being. His four eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and menace, watching you with an intensity that made your skin crawl.

"You must be the one who’s been meddling with the Hokora," the creature rumbled, his voice like thunder rolling through the air. Each word felt like it vibrated in your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “I… I didn’t mean any harm. I’m just cleaning—"

“Cleaning,” he interrupted with a soft, mocking laugh. “You’re more than just cleaning, little mortal. The Hokora isn’t some mere shelter. It’s a doorway, a place of power. And you’ve disturbed it."

You could feel the weight of his words settle over you, a chill crawling down your spine. What did he mean? What kind of place had you just wandered into?

"Who are you?" you asked, though you could barely hear your own voice over the pounding of your heart.

"Me?" He stepped forward, the air around him rippling like heat from a fire. "I am Sukuna, God of destruction. This is my shrine you have been tending to.".

Your heart skipped a beat at the name. Sukuna. The God of Destruction. The stories you’d heard whispered around town, the rumors about forgotten deities, all of it rushed through your mind. But none of it prepared you for this—this creature standing before you, radiating power and menace.

Sukuna took another step, his four arms swaying slightly as if he were deciding which of them would best wrap around your neck. You could feel his gaze pin you in place, like it had weight, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look away.

“I-I didn’t know,” you stammered, your voice barely more than a breath. “I didn’t know this place was—was yours. I didn’t mean to disrespect it.”

A low growl rumbled in Sukuna's throat, a sound that sent a fresh wave of dread through you. His pink locks swayed, and you could see the tattoos on his skin shift slightly, as though they were alive. "You think your ignorance will protect you?" he asked, his voice growing darker, more sinister. "You’ve crossed a line, mortal. The power within the Hokora is not something to be trifled with."

You felt the weight of his words, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The Hokora—a place of power. You had no idea. All you had wanted was to clean the shrine, to show it some respect. But now, it seemed like you had awakened something much older, much more dangerous than you could have ever imagined.

“I—I'll leave,” you said quickly, taking a cautious step back. Your mind was racing, thoughts tumbling over each other in a panic. Maybe if you just left now, you could escape this without facing whatever wrath he had in store.

Sukuna’s laughter stopped you in your tracks, a harsh, guttural sound. “Leave? Oh, no, no, mortal. It’s not that simple. You’ve already stirred the winds of fate. And now you owe me.”

"O-owe you?" You couldn’t hide the confusion and fear in your voice. “What do you mean?”

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, his expression softened, though not in a comforting way. “I think it’s time for you to learn what it truly means to disturb a god’s domain.”

Before you could respond, his hand shot out faster than you could blink, gripping your arm with surprising gentleness—if gentleness was even possible for something so monstrous. "I think you'll entertain me for some time, mortal.". He said, he dropped his hand again seeing the fear in your eyes and he laughed manically. Within seconds you watched his body morph and change, it was smaller now, subtraction of the bark from his face, the two bottom eyes, and a set of arms, he looked more normal. The tattoos and hair still stuck out, but it was better now. "I will live with you, little human. I believe you will put on a good show for me, now that you've awoken me", his grin was sadistic as he finished speaking and you couldn't help but gulp. ~~~

A week passed.

It was... surreal, the new life you found yourself leading. At first, you couldn’t help but watch Sukuna from a distance, wary of his every movement. The transition had been jarring. One minute, he was this towering, menacing god whose presence suffocated you with dread, and now, he was... well, almost human-sized. Still, the way he moved and the unsettling grin never truly left his face, making your unease linger.

He had adapted to the life in the minka with unnerving ease. He didn’t sleep in the small room you had designated for guests (or, in your case, the tiny room meant for shrine-keeping and living). Instead, Sukuna sprawled lazily across the tatami floor of the living room, his body contorting in ways you didn’t think were possible for anyone, let alone a god.

You had tried, at first, to go about your daily chores in the usual rhythm: sweeping, cleaning, tending to the offerings—but Sukuna was always there, his ever-watchful eyes following you. Sometimes, he would speak, his voice deep and teasing, but mostly, he just observed, as if amused by your every movement.

The first time you tried to walk to the shrine by yourself, Sukuna had appeared in front of you before you even reached the door. His grin had been maddening as he blocked your path.

“Where do you think you’re going, little human?” he had asked, his tone mocking yet playful. “I believe you owe me entertainment. What kind of servant would you be if you left me all alone?”

His words made your stomach turn. You hadn’t agreed to be his servant. In fact, you weren’t sure you wanted to entertain him at all. But every time you tried to assert yourself, his presence loomed over you, a reminder that there was no escaping the consequences of your actions.

Over the course of the week, Sukuna had gradually adjusted to living in the minka—he had a strange way of calling it his place, though he didn’t need much in terms of living accommodations. He often spent hours sitting cross-legged by the window, staring out at the woods, as if waiting for something. The intensity of his gaze never wavered, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were living in the eye of a storm.

The worst part? The way he treated you like a puzzle to be picked apart.

One evening, as you sat by the hearth preparing dinner, Sukuna walked in, his bare feet making no sound against the wooden floor. You barely looked up as you stirred the pot, but the air around you shifted. You felt his presence loom, waiting for your acknowledgment.

“So, what exactly do you do all day?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Clean up my shrine, yes? But you haven’t tried to understand it yet. You haven’t learned the art of offerings. I’m disappointed, little one.”

You resisted the urge to snap at him. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy? Busy doing what? I’ve watched you. You haven’t made a single real offering, not to me. Only to the spirits that no longer come here. And I’m sure they don’t mind your little trinkets. But I, on the other hand…” His voice trailed off, and you felt your skin prickle as he came closer.

“I don’t know how to make offerings to you, Sukuna,” you said, your voice tight. “I don’t even understand you. I don’t understand what you want.”

The room seemed to grow colder, the flames from the hearth flickering as he leaned down, his face appearing dangerously close to yours.

"You’ll learn, little mortal. You’ll learn what it means to truly serve me."

He straightened and gave a theatrical yawn, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

The days blurred together after that—most of your interactions with Sukuna were filled with questions you couldn’t answer. His inquiries were invasive, often putting you on edge. Why had you never asked for more? Why did you live so simply? And what would it be like, he wondered aloud, to live a life without so many constraints?

The worst part wasn’t his constant presence—it was the way he seemed to grow more and more intrigued by the simplest things. One morning, while you were walking to the shrine, Sukuna had appeared at your side without a sound.

"You know," he had mused, "humans have such odd habits. Take the way you walk, for instance. So... careful, like you’re afraid of something. But you’ve already disturbed me. What do you have to fear anymore?”

You hadn’t responded, afraid that any words would give him even more of a reason to continue his relentless teasing.

But something had shifted inside you. The tension that used to consume you—the constant dread of the god’s gaze—was starting to feel more like a dull ache. It wasn’t that Sukuna had changed; it was that you had learned to live with his presence. You had grown accustomed to it, just as you had once grown accustomed to the stillness of the woods, to the silence of the shrine.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to acclimate to the new reality, there was always a part of you that knew—deep down—that this was far from over. Sukuna wasn’t just waiting for your obedience. He was waiting for something far darker to unfold, and you could feel it, gnawing at you every time you met his eyes.

One night, just as you were preparing to sleep, Sukuna appeared at your doorway. His usual grin was gone, replaced with an unreadable expression.

"You’ll come to understand me soon enough," he said quietly. "But the price of your curiosity... is that you'll never be free of me."

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the dim light of your room, the words hanging in the air like a curse.

Taglist: @rinkomei Taglist is always open for anyone! I hope this was alright for the first of many chapters!

[riality-check]

Academy era Viktor fic on ao3!!

Tag list below the cut! Thank you all so much for the encouragement I've received on this fic; it truly means the world to me.

I'm going to chance asking one small favor. If I tagged you, could you please leave a comment on ao3/a fun bookmark/share with a friend/something else? Doing this tag list was a lot, and I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts on the fic if I tagged you (or if I didn't!)

@thebluespacecow, @viktorthemachineherald, @starlightopal, @icequeenlila, @potterhead0taku, @smallgermancar, @puddingbat, @capobegone, @autistic-beshelar, @chron0ph0bia, @spoekelser, @emeraldscholar, @zephlovesspacestuff, @vidduality, @rowan778, @clowninabox, @miimyn, @d-promachos, @thegreatbluecat72, @anubisisthebomb, @n0-1-important, @fatcryptid, @straysparks, @shelteringyourdna, @draculafactory, @gotosleeeep, @transslyblue, @please-stand-by-me, @doctorho, @colinrobinsonscardigan, @loyalhorror, @little-paperboat, @pepperminteggnog, @comicsohwhyohwhy, @colormehazelnut, @yeehawbvby, @starmans-spaceship, @chemical-killjoy, @locally-sourced-loser, @yaffles-world, @l0on, @tiredfiver, @cthulhu-with-a-fez, @aimithelle, @badwolfrt, @martybaker, @marsreds, @torii-storii, @27dragons, @seiya-starsniper, @chaosheadspace

[mokokone]

Hello! I have an idea/request!!! I saw your Kusuriuri's and love them SO MUCH! Can I request maybe a Kusuriuri x reader with the red string, I heard that Kusuriuri is "unlikely that he can ever settle down and marry" so maybe the reader is the one that follows the red string and finds him. You know just a cute writing! Have a good day/afternoon/night! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ ♡♡

A/N: I had to do a little research on Japanese mythology before writing this. Hope you enjoy!♡

The Red Thread [The Medicine Seller/Kusuriuri x Reader Soulmate AU]

When you'd first seen the thin red string that was neatly tied to your pinkie finger, you knew immediately that Okuninushi no Mikoto, the God of Love and Marriage, had bound you to your soulmate.

You so badly wanted to meet them, but you were a little afraid that they might not be what you had imagined. However, as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the red string remained a constant reminder of the divine connection you shared with your soulmate. You found yourself growing more and more curious about who they could be, wondering if they were thinking about you too.

The anticipation and excitement continued to build, filling your heart with a mixture of hope and apprehension. Every time you looked at the string, you felt a surge of warmth and comfort, knowing that somewhere out there, your soulmate was waiting for you.

Thus, you began your journey through the land of Edo in search of the one connected to you by the red string of fate.

From bustling streets and rural villages to serene gardens and sacred shrines, the sense of connection you felt grew stronger. With each step you took, you felt an unfamiliar, small tug on your pinkie.

However, nothing came from those small tugs on the string. Despite the initial excitement and hope that had filled your heart, the absence of any further signals left you feeling uncertain and restless. You began to wonder if perhaps you had misinterpreted the signs or if the timing was simply not right.

As you were about to lose all hope, you suddenly felt that one constant pull, and you almost thought your finger was going to come off.

Curiosity is eating you alive. You take a deep breath and stand, following the string whenever it tugs. It was as if it was guiding you.

You want to know who you are connected to and why. You follow until the red string leads you to a red torii gate. Passing through, you're met with a gorgeous garden of pink hydrangeas and a beautiful shrine covered in papar Ofuda.

You stare at it in awe for a moment until the red string begins to glow brightly.

Slowly, you approach the shrine and see a man sitting on the engawa.

He had dirty blonde hair and wore a purple bandanna. He's dressed in a vibrant kimono with beautiful psychedelic patterns, and his appearance looks elven-like. The outsides of his eyes are outlined by strange markings, with the ones underneath forming the appearance of teardrops. And his upper lip is painted purple, making it appear that he is constantly smiling.

He doesn't look human at all. In fact, he remained like a sly fox. But the red string seems to connect to him as it does to you.

For a moment, you stare at him until his gaze meets yours.

"Oh!" His voice is velvety and attractive as he raises a tad, "A visitor."

Suddenly, you felt naked as he shamelessly eyed you up and down; the corners of his mouth curled along with his painted lips in an amused smirk.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this special visit?" He asked.

"Are you... my soulmate?" You asked shyly, slowly inching your way closer.

You wanted to get closer to him, but stopped a few feet from him so as not to invade his personal space. You were strangers. The enchanted Ofuda covering the shrine acts as a warning to you to keep away.

"Hmm, perhaps I am." He tilts his head in question. "First, I'm hunting Mononoke, and the next thing I know is that I have a red string tied to my finger."

He then eyed the string tied to your own finger as his smile widens. Gently, he pulls at the red thread as if trying to pull you forward.

"It would seem the old man has a sense of humor," He said.

Your face heats up in embarrassment as you shyly avert your gaze toward the ground. However, another tug on the string brings your attention back to him.

"Anyway, I've been waiting for you to come find me," He replies.

"Y-you have?"

He nods.

"Though, you'll have to excuse all these... decorations," he says, gesturing towards the paper ofuda covering the shrine. "They were for safety measures in case you were a mononoke. Okuninushi is an old friend of mine, and I had assumed this was his way of a joke. But apparently I was wrong."

"Uh, do you have a name?" You asked him.

"I'm just a humble medicine seller," He answers nonchalantly.

"You don't have a name?" You tilt your head in question.

Another smile graced his painted lips, and he is like a fox.

"I am but a humble medicine seller, nothing more."

Did he simply not have a name, or was he hiding it out of habit? Either way, you decided to call him as is.

"Kusuriuri, then," you say.

The Medicine Seller, or "Kusuriuri," grins in response, the sight of his sharp canines making your heart thump faster as the red string of fate that connects you both glows brighter.

Soon, he silently motions you over to sit next to him, which, after a little hesitation, you do.

For a moment, neither of you speak, the tranquil silence enveloping the space between you like a soft, comforting blanket, creating an atmosphere filled with anticipation. You feel Kusuriuri's enigmatic gaze on you, and for a second, you think that he's displeased by what he sees.

What if he finds you mediocre, ugly, or disgusting?

"Are you happy with the result?" He suddenly asked, nearly making you jump.

"Eh?" You meet his gaze. "M-me..?"

He nods in response, a gentle affirmation that propels your heart into a flurry of emotions as you realize the depth of his query.

"Yes."

Oh! Apparently he was having the same thoughts as you and is now asking if you're happy with the outcome.

You're not sure if it's the red thread that ties your souls inextricably together, but you couldn't be happier to have finally met him. It's clear he's not human, but you refuse to let such distinctions cloud your feelings or cloud your judgment of what truly matters.

"Okuninushi wants to know if you're satisfied with me being your soulmate. It is why the red thread glows," Kusuriuri explains, his words carrying a weight of significance. "If you are disappointed or unhappy, then you can untie and remove it from your finger." He added.

You're surprised by this. I mean, did you really want to untie the string? Yes, you and Kusuriuri are strangers and hardly know each other. But surely there's a reason why the God of Love and Marriage chose Kusuriuri to be your one and only.

Feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you gaze at the glowing thread that binds you and Kusuriuri together. As the significance of the situation sinks in, you find yourself hesitating, unsure of whether to keep the thread intact or to sever it and potentially change the course of destiny.

However, Kusuriuri doesn't seem to be complaining much since he's making no effort to remove the string, which piqued your curiosity.

"Are you happy, Kusuriuri-san?" You asked while averting your gaze back to him. "Are you satisfied with me being your soulmate?"

The words tumble out of your mouth in a rush, betraying the anxiety that has been building up inside you.

For a moment, he said nothing and only stared at you, which started to worry you. However, the corner of his lips arched upward as he smiled. His smile is enigmatic, hinting at a depth of emotion that you can't quite decipher.

"Only if you don't find me uninteresting," he says. "I am quite satisfied with my result." His words are cryptic yet strangely comforting, leaving you with a sense of peace.

"You are?"

"Yes, very much."

Slowly, he leans in close until he's inches away from your face. The sudden proximity made your face feel warm. His presence feels both familiar and unknown, drawing you in with a magnetic pull.

"I must admit, it gets lonely traveling alone, and I could use some company," he tells you with a soft smile.

The warmth of his eyes draws you in, hinting at a desire for connection and shared experiences in the boundless expanse of the world.

"Then, yes, I am happy, Kusuriuri-san," you finally answer in earnest.

Okuninushi didn't make no mistake.

"Then, would you care to join me on my travels, my dear?" He asked you.

You nod in agreement, still mesmerized by the sincerity and depth of his gaze, you feel an unspoken invitation to join him on an adventure, uncertain of the destination but eager for the journey ahead.

Without a word exchanged, the silence between you speaks volumes as you both lean in, closing the distance between your lips. In that fleeting moment of connection, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the shared intimacy of that tender kiss.

The red string of fate glows brighter, as does your bond.

[yridenergyridenergy]

Sukekiyo 2025/04/21 "Makoto, Ryougan Chishibaru" live report

-Setlist-

Candis

MOAN

Aishita Shinzou

breeder

Houmonsha X

Creeper

Sharara

Honnou okotowari

mystery na

Kashikomi Kashikomi

Frame out kara no

(session)

anima

-encore-

Kashikomi Kashikomi

I'm not really going to write much about Kirito's part. No one wants my opinion on his songs. He did nine or ten songs, and he was reading almost all the lyrics that were in Japanese. If there are any Pierrot fans reading this, could you please explain? The fact that he constantly had to look down at his memo sheets, even having to step back from the crate to make sure he could see the words well... There's something very wrong about this. Is it a lack of self-confidence, or something medical? We got a sheet for his tour this month and the next, so it's not like he has zero experience and practice. And I'm clearly sensitive to memory disorders myself - that's why I write these reports to begin with - but I've never heard of a singer reading so much.

Other than that, one major difference that I noticed between Kirito's band's presence on stage and Kyo's bands' is the lighting. The musicians were constantly lit up, even if there was a backdrop video. It definitely made the show a lot weirder and less submersive than Kyo's bands. Fans of Kirito probably get much better pictures, but performance-wise, there's nothing like being bathed in darkness, apparently.

Kirito did MCs. From what I gathered, he teased the fact that sukekiyo fans are referred to as "torii-chan". He said it was cute, like fragile. I think he had his fans shout in comparison, and it seemed to be mostly male voices hah. Kirito also said something about Kyo but I was totally confused with my basic level of understanding for verbal Japanese because he never added a suffix after Kyo's name... It seemed to be about the discussion on the title of the show.

Onto sukekiyo, what a fucking show! I'm so glad people are now at the level of physical excitement as I was two years ago, pretty much on my own hah. It was amazing, the crowd followed everything and reacted to the songs even if we didn't know at first whether we could clap, let alone cheer after the songs or even when the members walked on stage.

Yuchi wore a kind of tutu skirt, I think? With a weird protruding black bra on top of a white dress shirt. He had a spiky hat, beautiful makeup, black (fingerless?) gloves and goldej rings around his neck. Takumi's hair strands were mostly pink/purple but a couple were blue on his left. He had a kind of black and white suit, I think. Mika wore all black. UtA wore a black ensemble with buttons all down the front, like a school uniform. His hair was either blond or pink, slightly puffy.

Kyo wore two articles from Adidas:

I think he hiked up the skirt higher than the model in this picture, because it appeared puffy, and it definitely seemed like a lot of his thighs was showing. Due to how Club Citta is constructed, I have no clue what shoes he wore. He also had large glasses, like in the breeder PV, and he added a couple of blond extensions to the sides of his head, in bows.

Candis was awesome as usual, the extension at the start really enhancing the song. I can't get enough of Kyo's sudden knee drops in this performance! I hadn't known whether we even needed penlights for the show - Kyo usually warns us ahead of time. When I realized which it was and that it needed a penlight, I rummaged through my bag, but like a sign of life, one penlight started flashing out of the three: the right one!

It was my first time witnessing MOAN with the penlight. We essentially do our best to replicate Kyo's moves in the chorus.

Aishita Shinzou is kind of where we started being less stiff, I think. Kyo asked us to sing a few times, and he was jumping and dancing (the dance reminds me of North American Indigenous dances) a lot. Oh and he did the finger-in-his-mouth thing before jumping!

breeder came on and woah, the PV plays in the background but whatever, what a banger, as expected! Kyo at first asked us for a few "kill my mind", but near the end of the song, we were basically tasked with them all, essentially wrapping up the song ourselves. I think we also had to do one or two "how much am I worth?" At first, it was just Mika and Yuchi playing. Yuchi had this big bass placed vertically. Kyo looked at us and nodded, hopefully when he saw that many of us were excited for the song to be performed.

And you know what? To be honest, there's something to be appreciated with projecting a PV that doesn't feature Kyo behind him on stage. It's always weird when they show the PVs since Kyo is different and unique, so he has starkly different looks and he doesn't always move the same way on stage and on screen. Having some rando isn't distracting, in that sense.

At some point, Kyo briefly asked us, seemingly out of curiosity, if this was indeed a "Ceremony of Liberation", to which we cheered and understood that we could let loose completely.

In Houmonsha X, I found Kyo to move less than he did in the Jetblack Ceremony performances, but maybe because he compensated then for the fact that nobody else could move. Even the musicians were hella concentrated and immobile during the instrumental parts. At least now, we could dance.

I got to see Creeper live! The pot-stirrong at the beginning, all the little moves throughout this song! Kyo asked us to shout the "kaeru"s sometimes, and I seem to recall that Kyo pointed a lot to us based on the lyrics.

Before this point, maybe in Aishita Shinzou, Kyo walked over on the right side of the stage and he was teasingly chewing his index in his mouth with a grin while staring at us, as if considering who he'd ask out.

Sharara and Honnou okotowari were very nice, but I don't necessarily remember anything specific right now. Probably because it involved a ton of headbanging? I think Kyo might have moved sensually more at the end of Honnou okotowari than at the beginning, even though that's how the song sounds with his low singing? And it's lovely that Kyo changed the tone of the third or fourth paragraph in Honnou okotowari to ramble on in a high-pitched voice as though he's 'bitchly vexed' and disappointed.

For mystery na, I haven't heard the studio recording beyond the audio teaser that they added on YouTube a week or so ago. They kept the essential parts of it, but there's a weird kind of empty section near the end? We were also expected to sing a part that sounds like: "...smile" but hey, most of us haven't had the chance to listen to it yet, so it showed. Otherwise, I loved how Kyo rapped, and how he made a gesture from his chest to three parts of the crowd for the "ha haha haha" part after "Odoreeeee", as though he was distributing the wealth or some emotion.

Kashikomi Kashikomi played next and it's crazy how everybody in the band is super demanding of us even in this super short song hah. For some reason, there's an emphasis that the 🙏 be bumped upward, and since the song is about ditching the concept of sexes/genders, I must say I'm confused. When Kyo sings the "woman?" "man?" part, at least once he pointed to Yuchi for one of them, and UtA for the other, before going crazy growling the rest and leading us to the headbanging part.

Frame out kara no was as cool as I expected, even if Kyo didn't do the same "throwing his hands in the air and walking around mad" move like in the video I posted recently. There was a ton of gesturing of a camera frame, and Kyo adlibbing or again changing the tone of some lyrics to act really disappointed by the resulting photograph that he held so much hope for. And when he sings about stabbing, he goes straight to Yuchi, who has his back turned because of whatever instrument he plays then, and Kyo boldly gestures stabbing him, before retreating to his central position.

Sukekiyo then started playing an improvised session, with Takumi peoducing a simple melody on the piano at first. I can't remember all of Kyo's lyrics, but it was about finding someone, something killed, tears, etc. and it became very intense rather quickly, with him shouting out his emotions. At that time, a lot of hands at the front of the crowd got up and became really agitated, so I was thinking that they were vibing way too much with Kyo and believing that they were the ones who resonated with him the most, but no, I guess they were frantically pointing out that someone had a medical emergency right there. The band kept performing like professionals.

Anima then played and the credits rolled on screen, signaling that it was probably the last song. It was emotional, most people listened stoically, in silence. This time, we started cheering before Kyo had completely walked off the stage.

We clearly didn't get enough sukekiyo with just about a half-show, so we quickly chanted: "ske-kiyo-sama" and man, you gotta love sukekiyo's punctuality. They always start their shows earlier than Dir en grey does, with little delay for latecomers, they took less than thirt minutes to come on stage after Kirito left, and once we called them for an encore, they were back right away.

Kyo asked us, unbothered, if we could go on. He kept alternating between "Ikimasu ka?" and "Ikaremasu ka?", the lattet of which is a much more formal question that would mean ", sir" in another context but which is hard to translate here. He sometimes used a tone that was like that of a polite employee asking a patron for confirmation on their request. He had his hand on his head while asking us that.

Kashikomi Kashikomi was played with somehow even less restraint, more intensity. Kyo took out one, then the second of his ear monitors to hear us, and he headbanged with us a lot. At the end of the song, he promptly walked out while the musicians jammed like a real end of concert. They were all smiles. UtA came to the very end of the other side of the stage and basked in gratefulness at multiple points on his way backstage. Yuchi insisted on us maintaining the Kashikomi 🙏 as high as possible. Mika left promptly the second time, but he had waved broadly at us from behind his screens after the main setlist in acknowledgement.

By the way, when we entered the venue, the staff asked us one by one which band we mainly came to see, and they had a counter for each.

I haven't felt like wanting to run until I collapse and exhaust all this overflowing energy in a long time.

I am definitely not bringing any penlights tomorrow - this show is meant to be danced unhampered!

[xxnghtclls]

Flickering Lights

Chapter 5 - Midnight Walk

Chapter 4 I Chapter 6

True Form Sukuna x Reader

NSFW I Explicit I Slow Burn

Infos and tags on Masterpost

Used music is linked in text.

-

The bass of your music makes your earphones vibrate, makes you feel confident, as you walk through the empty neighbourhood. The air grew cold, making you tug yourself even more into your jacket. The bright street lanterns shine upon your cap, causing only you and your shadow to walk these dark streets.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Not far from Shibuya crossing, you notice how the street grows busier. In the distance, you see red lights blinking and shining. 

It’s true. The police is still roaming around.

The pedestrian lights are red, as you finally reach the crossing. You pull down your headphones to listen to your surroundings. On the other side, you can see some policemen standing at the entrance of Shibuya train station. 

Probably because of him.

Pew. Pewpew. Pew. Pewpew.

The masses move and you walk, focusing on the station. The closer you get, the more you can see. It’s not closed, just heavily guarded. Everyone going in and out is being watched, making you ponder.

“Ok Mio.” you whisper. “What will it be?” 

Your heartbeat increases, as you ask yourself if you should hurry to the last train or let fate decide your night, before you peek on your phone.

23:43 p.m.

Another breath and another glance at the policemen, before you open your messenger app and tap on Mio’s chat.

[ Y/N ] At the station now. Police is still out, but everything’s fine 🙏

You send your message and hurry inside the station. It’s crowded. Even more than usual. You scan your ticket app and hurry to the stairs, but the people slow you down. 

Ping!

A new message on your phone, as you hear the last train arrive. Trying to get down the stairs, you gently shove some people out of the way. Wind blows through your hair, as you arrive at the platform. Looking left and right, you see that the whole train is full. Stepping back and forth, you watch how some people push themselves into the wagon, until there’s no room anymore. 

And then the doors close, leaving you and many others standing there with no ride home. You loudly exhale and pause, before you look at your phone.

[ Mio ] Good ❤️ Arrive safely, Peanut.

You bite on the corner of your lip, before putting your phone away and make your way out of the station. Up the street, going for Meiji Shrine.

Fate it is.

It’s Saturday, the shops are closed by now. The restaurants however, are still opened and people still walk the streets. Policemen are patrolling and multiple police cars and ambulances aggressively drive up the street, making you watch the red lights on top of the cars and how they blur in the distance.

What a view. 

After a short walk, you’re back at the Torii next to Harajuku Station. However, everything’s closed up, barrier-tape everywhere. Policemen are walking around, heavily armed and talking on their radio, some even eyeing you already. It makes you feel uneasy, makes you feel watched and anxiety spreads in your gut. You inhale deeply, fiddling with your sleeves, watching the barrier-tape sway in the breeze.

No fateful adventure for me without getting arrested, I suppose.

You huff at yourself and shake your head.

“Whatever.” you mumble, while turning to walk east. “Time to go home.”

What am I doing here anyway?

Walking further and further away from Meiji-Shrine, the surrounding area grows calmer with each step. Before you pass the corner into a emptier street, you turn around and look back. And you wonder if they really got him, shot him.

They probably did.

You keep walking.

Shot him on sight.

Walking backwards.

Killed the killer.

Tap. Tap.

That Strange-

Bam!

Your back harshly bumps into someone. 

Shit!

You freeze, thinking it might’ve been a Police officer, before you quickly turn around and bow your head.

“I’m sorry!” you apologise, before you recognise the sandals in front of your feet.

Badum.

The colour fades from your face and your heart sinks into your stomach, before you look up. Black Haori, tattoos, four arms and four eyes. Sprinkles and traces of blood are spread across his face, mask and hair. The Stranger eyes you up and down with an expression between disgust and surprise and only now you realise, that he’s at least two heads taller than you.

“You’re alive!” you blurt out under your breath, almost relieved.

His eyebrow twitches, but before he can react, headlights start to illuminate his face, making him look over your head. You turn around and see a car approaching, before you turn back to him- only to see that he’s gone.

What the fuck?

A short honk from the car behind you makes you jump and you step aside. You bow and make apologising gestures with your hand, as the car passes by. It was just a resident. And your heart picks up a beat.

Where is he?

You swallow, as you hurry to the next corner, looking right- nothing. Left-

There he is. 

Badum.

The Stranger in the black Haori, almost invisible in the darkness of this neighbourhood, is quietly walking down the street. And your feet want to move, but you hesitate.

He’s a murderer, you remind yourself. But, this force that keeps pulling you in and this bizarre curiosity dwelling inside of you is stronger than your sense of morality.

The need for change. The wish to flee your life. 

Let fate decide.

You take a deep breath, as you watch him walk. And slowly, you take a step. Then another, following him into the shadows of the night. Like a stray cat, you follow him. Watch how the streetlights from above paint him in shadows and light. How his feet move across the asphalt and how his Haori sways with every step. You keep your distance, watch how he would stop every now and then, before he decides to turn corners. Right. Then Left. How he would start to walk slower, then quicker.

And you wonder, if he knows that you follow him-

Ping!

Shit!

[ Mio ] Are you home??

Your eyes look at her message, then shoot back up to the Stranger. 

And you see how his eyes lock with yours for the split of a second, before he passes the next corner on the right side.

Badum.

He knows.

A strange feeling crawls into your chest. This feels dangerous, but not dangerous at the same time. 

If he wanted to, he would’ve killed me already… right?

Muting your phone on the switch, you put it away and check your environment for possible Policemen, before your feet start to tipple after him. Your heart starts racing, before you pass the corner and see- nothing. An empty street in front of your eyes. 

He’s gone. And you’re confused.

Your eyes search left and right for him, as you follow the street. Suddenly a small group of people is passing you by, chatting and chuckling.

They must be coming from Takeshita Street. 

You keep walking. It’s unlikely they saw him, considering how unbothered they were.

Wait-

If he’s heading to Takeshita Street, the Police will-

You pick up your pace, as your eyes still search for him. Passing the next corner, he’s still not there. No Stranger, no Police, no other people. 

And you keep searching, hurry and pass the following corner, before you walk down a couple of stairs that lead into a narrow street. You walk slowly and stop, as you see a pitch black alley to your right. An alley that leads towards Takeshita Street-

“Not a place for a woman to walk alone at night…” a deep, but oddly familiar voice suddenly purrs against your ear from behind. “Isn’t it?” 

The tone of his voice and the subtle breaths of air against your skin gives you chills, before you’re yanked backwards by the collar of your jacket. Your breath is stuck in your throat, as you stumble and see the Stranger glare at you with his crimson orbs, before walking past you into the darkness. However, your hand is quicker than your mind and you grab his Haori.

“Wait!” you whisper urgently and tug at the fabric, making him stop in his tracks and turn back to you, revealing his bloodstained torso and lower arms, that are crossed in front of his chest. And your eyes widen at the countless traces of blood on his body.

His gaze follows a trail starting from his Haori, over to your hands and up to your face, before he lifts his chin.

“How offensive.” he glares and sneers and doesn’t hesitate to raise his right hand, two fingers ready to-

“Don’t walk through that alley!“ you interrupt him with fear in your bones, your eyes dancing back and forth between his hand and his eyes, as you recognise his gesture from earlier. “Not if you want to get caught.”

And he huffs, changing his demeanour in a second.

“Is that your concern?” he coos with a slight grin on his lips, squinting his eyes. His fingers twitch and before you know, the brim of your cap suddenly falls off, cleanly cut, and lands against your feet.

If you loose your head, don’t blame it on me, Mio’s words echo in your mind and you freeze. Your heart is racing, being face to face with the one who could slice you up just like that and without warning. 

This feeling… This thrill…

Like a dose of cocaine running through your blood. Just… better.

You swallow and open your mouth, but can’t speak. Instead, you just stare back at him. Think of how he stepped into your world and can’t help to feel fascinated by him and his appearance. Wonder who he is and where he came from. Want to know him. 

You focus on the drops and smears of blood on his skin and face, how they are glistening in the light of the lantern behind you and you ask yourself, if the man in the shrine was his only victim.

“W-Who are you?” you manage to breathe.

And he looses his grin, eyeing you up and down. His gaze making you feel like you’re an insect that’s crawling upon his lap, begging for attention. 

Degrading.  

“You’re a waste of time.” he yanks the fabric out of your hands. “How embarrassing.” he utters under his breath, before he turns and makes his way back into the darkness. Your heart sinks at his words, knowing your adventure wasn’t an adventure to last.

At least I’m still alive.

But his words make you feel like giving up, make you feel anxious to push your luck. Picking up the piece of your sliced cap and turning on your heels, you walk back and pass around the corner, before you stop. You let out a deep sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

How embarrassing, he said.

You swallow and continue to walk back to the main street, while putting your cut cap into your bag.

A waste of time…

You gnaw at his words, before your vision gets coated in bright light.

Fwop Fwop Fwop Fwop Fwop

The sound of a helicopter grows loud above your head. The rotors make the bushes sway and your hair dance in the wind. Its headlights shine through the streets not far in front of you, searching the area. Your heart picks up a beat and you watch how the helicopter flies above your head, carefully lighting every corner of the street.

“Emergency! Everyone is urged to leave the streets and return to their home!” they loudly announce through speakers. It echoes through the whole neighbourhood and something in you churns.

What on earth has he done?

You decide to follow the main road to Takeshita Street. Less and less people are outside now. The last ones are hurrying down the street in order to get home. Three policemen are patrolling, walking down from Meiji Shrine, but other than that it seems calm, if it weren’t for the constant police sirens in the background and now the fluttering helicopter in the air.

You walk down the shopping street, until you approach the pedestrian light. Right next to the lights, you see a street-sign for Tōgō-Shrine, which is located right around the corner.

Tōgō-Shrine… Shrine… Shrine…

Wait.

“He went to Meji-Shrine.” you whisper. “What if-?”

An idea sparks in your mind and you hurry up the street to your left. 

Just this last detour.

One glance left and right, checking for Police, before you’re quick to walk through the Torii-Gate, as you suddenly hear radio-chatter coming up behind you. 

Shit!

Quickly, you follow the path along the pond that’s leading up to Tōgō-Shrine, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“All clear.” you hear in the distance and you’re relieved, as you quietly hurry up the way.

Hidden behind trees and bushes, you slowly approach the stairs that lead to the other end of the path. Crouching down, you hide and wait a second. 

Seems calm.

“Mhm.” you ponder, while you look at the Shrine’s area across the street. 

The doors are closed.

The lantern that’s sitting right next to the entrance flickers gently. And you hum at the familiar sight. Watching the light, you faintly notice a slimy, four legged creature slowly crawl up the hood of the lantern. You stare, watch how the light shimmers under it’s figure and how it’s countless eyes are glistening in the light. You wonder if it’s a sign, wonder if he’s here-

And if he is, why?

For the last time, you scan your surroundings, before you walk over the street, keeping an eye on the creature that’s sitting on the lantern. Your eyes wander to the closed gate of the shrine, before you hear a buzzing sound. 

BzzZZZzzzZz-fwp

The giant fly from last night lands on the roof above the gates and starts to rub its front legs. You frown in suspicion, since it’s the second time you see it, but decide to ignore it, before you look at the Chōzuya. It’s lit up by a lamp under the pavilion and the water is running calmly through the bamboo pipes- until it isn’t.

A soft breeze flows through your hair, as suddenly the ground starts to rumble and the pipes start to jitter. The water in the basin starts to vibrate. You hold your breath at the sudden movement.

He’s here.

You take a step further to the closed gate of the shrine, before you hear the water splash and move even more. Turning back to the basin, you notice how the water is bubbling up at the left corner. And you look closer, but you can’t see anything other than the bursting and bubbling water in front of your face. You touch the rim of the basin, feel the vibrations on your skin and suddenly the water calms down. 

In an instant, the water’s surface is flat again, gently rippling through the calm bamboo pipes. The clear surface allows you to see something small, something metallic. It shimmers against the light.

A coin. Not looking like a usual Yen. It looks old, ancient even.

Gently, you reach into the water to pick it up. The metal feels hot against your skin, despite being submerged the cold water. It looks hand forged, the edges uneven, with a hole in the middle. You take it out the water and muster it, move it below the light and see whole centuries of marks and scratches carved into the metal.

It’s beautiful.

Your sight is coated in blinking red lights, as a police-car slowly drives the road up behind you, making your heart drop into your feet. 

Fuck!

Quickly, you stuff the coin into your pocket, quietly turn to the car and watch how it stops in front of you. Two officers step out.

“Excuse me!” one of them calls, making you anxious, as they approach you. “There has been a serious homicidal incident in Meiji Shrine this afternoon. The killer is still roaming around in Shibuya.”

“What? Oh my god!” you act dumb and horrified, covering your mouth with your hand.

“It’s very dangerous to walk these streets at this moment! You should’ve been notified by the air force already. It is important that you go home immediately!“ the other officer urges you.

“Of course, of course! I was on my way home and passing the shrine, until I noticed some noises in the water here.” you lie, pointing to the Chōzuya and the officers eyes follow your hand. “But it was only a little bird taking a bath. It flew away, as soon as I approached.”

“This individual is very dangerous!” one says sternly, while taking his phone and showing you a picture that an eyewitness must’ve taken during the Meiji Shrine incident. “Any chance that you have seen him?” 

It’s him. Undeniably him. 

And you can’t help but wonder, if he’s listening to this conversation, watching you and those officers. You’re sure he’s here somewhere.

“No.” another lie. “I haven’t.”

“Alright. Please, leave the streets as quick as you can!” the officer urges you, while taking a look at his watch. “If you see something suspicious, please contact us!”

“Of course! Please excuse the inconvenience I caused you!” you bow your head. “Thank you for your duty!” you continue, before turning on your heels and tipple back to the main street.

Relief spreads in your gut to have dodged this situation. You feel lucky not to have been arrested. Sometimes you might not know what’s gonna happen in an emergency like this, especially not when you break the rules.

Time to go home, I guess.

You walk and walk, as you remember how the Stranger was reaching for the Saisen-bako at Meiji-Shrine. The box where people usually offer their money, coins, to the gods and now you found this ancient looking one. Vibrating, making the water dance with its energy. Unusual and unique. Just another extraordinary thing adding to the recent events. Reaching for the coin in your pocket, you take another look. It’s still warm against your skin and fascinating in its nature. You look at it closely for a while, wonder if this coin has something to do with him, before you put it back in your pocket and take your phone out.

02:09 a.m.

24 missed calls from Mio

4 unread messages from Mio

“Sssshhhiiit!” you curse under your breath and start to sweat in panic, as you remember how you muted your phone earlier, without replying to Mio. With a pounding heart, you open your messages.

[ Mio ] Are you home??

[ Mio ] Girl??!

[ Mio ] Y/N I’m worried! Please text or call.

[ Mio ] I’m gonna call the Police.

“Not the Police, Mio, please!!” you beg with jittering breath, as you pick up your pace and start to type your apology.

[ Y/N ] I’m so sorry!! I arrived home with no battery and plugged it in while taking a shower and then fell asleep. I’m fine!

[ Y/N ] Did you really call the Police??

She replies in an instant.

[ Mio ] Y/N!! 

[ Mio ] Yes

[ Mio ] I almost had a panic attack

[ Y/N ] Noo! I’m so sorry Mio! 😭😭 

[ Mio ] They said they’re not sure when they can check on you since you’re in Akasaka and all forces are busy in Shibuya but they will send someone as soon as possible.

Fuck!

Zschk Zing!

You finally unlock and rush through your front door, while stumbling out of your shoes, hang up your jacket and hurry out of your clothes. Climbing up the ladder to your bed, you pull your Pyjamas out of the sheets and put them on. A simple white shirt and loose pants with an imprint of little cartoon cats. Back down on the ground you throw your hair over your head and ruffle through them, just in case you need to look like you got fresh out of bed if someone knocks.

And finally, you sink into the chair at your little kitchentable and bury your face into your hands.

“She called the police.” you whisper to yourself, as you slowly shake your head, before your stomach calls you, reminding you that your last meal was many hours ago. And it wasn’t very nutritious either. 

Sigh.

Getting up again, you shuffle to your fridge and open it. Except some bottles of water and a single pricy pack of ready-to-eat Ramen from La Familia, there’s nothing you can choose from. You grab the Ramen and stuff the package into the microwave that’s sitting on the top of your fridge, before closing the lid and setting the timer.

Fwwwwwwwwwww

The microwave starts heating and you sit down again, tapping on your phone.

02:58 a.m.

“They’re not gonna check on me tonight, are they?” you mumble, as you feel your eyes growing tired and heavy, before you type another message.

[ Y/N ] Can you please call them and tell them it’s fine?

[ Y/N ] I don’t wanna sleep knowing there could be someone knocking me awake any second-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You squeak, as you jump in your seat and, letting the phone fall on the table.

Silence. 

Weird, you think, as you frown in suspicion.

Police usually announces themselves.

After another second of silence, it knocks again.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Hello?” you finally call.

No answer.

You grow anxious and quietly get up to walk to your door.

Brrrr Brrrrr

A message on your phone, but you ignore it, as you lean forward and look through the peephole. And your eyes grow wide at what you see.

What the fuck?

[risingshine]

Okay! After way too much time, and while its probably not completed and the proportions are probably way off, here's Chiasa's shrine plan!

Annotated Below:

The usual purifcation fountain to clean off - there is both the ladle fountain for traditional practitionars, and a garden fountain for people who prefer using streams (with a sign for instructions on how to use both)

The usual purifcation fountain to clean off - there is both the ladle fountain for traditional practitionars, and a garden fountain for people who prefer using streams (with a sign for instructions on how to use both)

2. The Torii gate - big enough for Chiasa and friends to fit through easily: does have a sign to notate that kami go thorugh the center.

3. Zen garden on both sides - you might catch @snugglyporos baby blocks drawing lines in the sand.

4. A line of stone torches, usually filled with incense for a purifying glow.

5. Ema boards: a place to hang up wishes that you want Chiasa to read - they are fufilled and cleaned out every month.

6. Two administration offices - the top one for ema boards, the bottom for buying charms: they also sell fortunes during new years. They go by an honor system most of the time, so you take as you wish and put 5 yen in the chest for each one you took.

7. the main square, where main festival activities are held: outside of festivals, often either involves incense (for cleansing), a bonfire (for warming the shrine) or a large block of ice (for cooling the shrine down).

8. the prayer room: open-aired, here you ring the bell, give offerings and prayers. have a sign instructing how to do so.

9. the main hall, for small feasts, dances and shows done for ceremonial purposes (or for fun) - also has a place to put offerings to the shrine itself.

10. the communion room - where visitors can talk to chiasa, either in a group setting or one on one (in the small rooms) - for more private conversations. Is the room between the public and private zones of the shrine, with a note asking to not enter Chiasas private space unless you are permitted (her friends all are, of course).

11. the Inner sanctum, the heart of the shrine. It is where Chiasa has her own personal shrine to Amaterasu (which she cares for with great revenance) and where she makes and maintains her kokiri dolls and the model she has of the shrine. No doors, so only Chiasa can enter (she can walk through the walls of her shrine.

12. Training grounds! Including training dummies, a sumo/fight wing, shooting range and training weapons.

13. Onsen! It's mixed bathing, with a shower, changing room, sauna, 4 different types of onsen water baths, and a traditional hot spring (anyone attempting to leer on others will be blinded whenever they attempt to peek).

14. Guest rooms! 8 of them in total, with a bed, closet and desk and chair for personal time - currently housing Crystal (@songofsilentechoes) and Silas (@silasdogboy), and probably others who come and go.

15. Back garden! The main home to the stray dogs and cats Chiasa takes care of, but they can be found around all of the private zone. (in the back)

16. Kitchen and dining room, with a view of the back garden and the forest beyond the shrine.

17. Her main living room, and a rest spot for both friends and maidens.

18. A room for storing and preparing drinks.

19. Chiasa (and kachi and partner's) bedroom! Including a walk in washroom, a closet, a side space and double king sized bed.

20. Learning room! Was built for kachi to do reading and homework, but Chiasa finds it a good spot to learn about things too.