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bitchimasnake-sss · 2 months

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i love reading your fics, they always give me 🦋🦋🦋 i love them so much, so, i want to make a request a angst-comfort where zoro and reader are dating but they got into a fight (*cough* zoro got jealous and starts to question reader's loyalty *cough*) but it ends happily because I don't want cry. n e way, continue writing stories, you write them so well... 😚

im so glad you like my work!! and thankyouu so much for sending in the request, let's get to itt <3

moss and towel ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: in which, you and zoro have been dating for six months. but after one fight night and growing distances, he finds himself questioning everything you've built together.

warnings: (poor attempts at writing) angst, zoro acts like an idiot, profanities. yeah, that's about it.

the winds were cruel tonight and even crueler were you. atleast there was some comfort in the cold gusts, some reason in the way they played against the swordsman's skin and left behind selfish goosebumps. atleast, he could attempt to understand it with nami's weather charts or whatnot.

but you. how could he attempt to understand you?

his eyebrows bunched as he stared up, fixing his gaze against the twinkling points. groaning, he put his hand over his eyes. maybe in a way, sure, it was his fault. he was never good with words or those fancy poems or haikus. he was never the one to resort to affection. but how was he supposed to fix this?

the first mate of the ship rested a fraction of his bodyweight against the wooden railing of the crow's nest. the wind tousled his unkempt hair and running a hand through his moss-green locks, he vaguely tried to remember how long it had been since nami dragged him into the bathroom and gave him a haircut again.

probably too long. he concluded with a sigh as the soft tresses caressed the mid-point of the back of his neck.

he was supposed to meet his girlfriend here. that's what had been decided. just you, him and the infinitely infinite night sky. the swordsman had even decided to talk about his feelings 'neath the dark abyss of the sky (even if he hated the mere idea of that).

but it had been 30 minutes and there were no signs of you anywhere.

life had been hectic for the both of you lately, whether it was because of the constant run-ins with the marines, zoro having to accompany luffy to side-quests or some other shit the sea sprouted every once in a while. either ways, it meant that you and him saw less and less of each-other as each day passed him by.

resigning himself to a tired sigh, zoro decided to climb downwards. you were not gonna come, that much was sure.

as his heavy feet planted against the wooden floor, he took a second to collect his thoughts. he started walking the stairs to go under the deck, to the common space where most of the crew lounged at the end of the day. descending, he thought of all possible explainations. maybe you had been caught by someone else and forced to listen to one of their anecdotes, maybe nami had asked you to help with the log pose calculations of the last island, or maybe chopper wanted you to help him grind some fresh medicine.

maybe-

he stepped inside the common place with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart and immediately saw you. you, ever so beautiful with you soft smiles and your lame jokes. you with your flowing hair and unruly habits. you, that was currently laughing along to something that shit-cook was talking about.

he must have caught your gaze cause you immediately looked away from sanji and to your boyfriend, giving him a soft smile. but he left the room without returning that gesture and you found yourself on your feet, walking after him and confused.

you trailed after him, calling his name out sweetly till you reached his room and he shut the door before you could get in.

"hey!" you laughed playfully, twisting the handle with ease and stepping inside. you closed the door behind you and tucked your arms around your chest, sporting a lively pout.

but he seemed to have to reaction to your antics, instead, deciding to carefully lay his three swords on the bed behind him as if he was courting the swords and not you.

"what's up with you?" you raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the way the man sat at the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff. when he said nothing, you pressed again, this time a bit more direct, "why are you grumbling now?"

he's been like this for the past few days and now that he refused to elaborate, you found your patience slipping off of you like a thin overcoat, leaving you behind in your ugly, impatient skin.

today had been hard, like any other day. and for some reason or the other, instead of inviting you into his arms, this man had swore to make your life even more difficult.

"zorooo," groaning, you asked again, "can you stop being so dramatic?"

his head snapped up, eyes finding yours with wicked ease. his jaw was clenched tight, face red as if he was burning up, "i am being dramatic? me?"

"yeah? you're being so fucking weird." you sighed, "why?"

"i dunno, go ask that fucking cook maybe?" he grumbled.

if the exasperation on your face wasn't obvious until now, after that comment, it was surely on full display.

"what?" you hissed, "what is up with you and all these weird accusations?"

"as i said, i dunno. ask that fuckin' waiter instead, why don't you? i'm sure he'd have some answers lined up."

"why are you dragging sanji into this?"

"why are you defending him?" he stood up, his face mirroring your exasperation tenfold. he crossed his arms similarly to yours and the muscles shifted impatiently under his shirt.

you threw you hands upwards, "im not defending him! i am aski—"

"—yes you are defending him, don't even."

you were tired.

god knew you every inch of your muscles were alight with exhaustion, your head was pounding and if he wanted to fight you, you wouldn't even have it in you to fight back. these past few days had been enough on their own. so, you sighed, taking on a resigned tone, "i am so tired, zoro. can't we do it another day?"

"yeah, right." he grumbled again, his eyebrows bunching together in a characteristic manner, "everything needs to be pushed back with you, right?"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you were sure smoke was rising from the top of your head and your pupils were comically blown out, "i was tired and wanted to take some time off, so, i had sat down. and sanji found me to make some ideal chit-chat. god forbid i be tired for once-"

"i was waiting at the crow's nest for the past 30 minutes, where were you?"

"huh—" fuck. your eyes widened as the terrible realization set in. almost on instinct, your fingers reached out to touch him so as to makeup for the terrible deed you had committed. but your boyfriend pulled himself back, dodging your careful grasp before rasping out, "don't."

"zoro, i'm sorry! really, i genuinely cannot believe i forgot—"

"so, you forgot me over that fucking cook?"

"no!" you repeated, slower, "no, of course not. i was just tired and—"

"—and you decided to go off with him instead?" he scoffed, "i thought we were dating and yet, i think we've barely had any time to just spend together. every time it's someone or the other you have to rely on, not me."

"zoro..." you started carefully but he cut off you off, "don't zoro me. it's either nami or sanji or luffy or someone or the other. i wouldn't be surprised if you're fucking blondie behind my back too."

you stared at him, shocked. the wretched feeling gnawed at your insides till you looked at him in pure, utter disgust. the corners of your eyes burned up and you spat out, "don't fucking talk to me."

and you left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

zoro stared at the place you were standing at and then slowly dragged his eyes at the door that you had slammed shut.

fuck.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆🪐⋆⭒˚｡⋆

well into the night, when he finally had swallowed his pride and mentally beat himself enough, he walked out of his room.

his steps were slow, stride careful so to not panic the mostly sleeping crew. searching through the washroom and the kitchen, the supply closet and chopper's tiny, stashed-away office, he failed to find you. then, he stepped out onto the deck and in a clean sweep, found you at the port side. the wind blew ideally though your hair and you stood with your arms on the railing.

the swordsman silently walked up to you, choosing to stand beside you without saying much. and if he had hoped for you to start the conversation, he was in for a long, long night.

"hey" he finally started off.

"i think i told you to not talk to me."

your feet shifted and you balanced your bodyweight away from him and he pursed his lips. standing in silence, the sounds of waves crashing against the ship painted you both in a uncomfortable hues.

he tried again, "i- i am sorry, really."

"don't care, didn't ask."

roronoa zoro bit the inside of his cheek, savoring the taste of foul rejection in his mouth over and over. but he had never been the one to go out without a fight. hell, he was the king of hell.

"but i am sorry." he repeated and his calloused fingers inched closer to yours, a poor attempt to ghost his skimming touches over your hand. but you were quicker and you pulled your hands back to yourself and wrapped them around yourself.

he slowly withdrew his hand and his head hung low, "how long are you gonna be mad at me?"

"i don't know? probably till i want to."

"babe—"

"—don't babe me."

"i am sorry—"

"—to fuCKING HELL WITH YOUR SORRY!" your cool demeanor washed off and you bore daggers into his paper-like skin as you stared him down. your breath was laboured and you were sure your yells must have woken someone, if not the entire crew.

he stayed silent, ready to face the consequences of his actions. and although venom was a resident on your tongue, looking at his guilt-struck face, you were reduced to nothing but a dumbfounded, little girl.

whatever you had planned, whatever you had thought you'd call him, whatever accusations you had thrown you'd throw at him dissolved at the tip of your tongue. and instead, an ugly feeling stirred under your skin. the feeling sunk heavy in your chest and your stomach and your head and heart and every other crevice of you. bile crawled up your scratchy throat and the same waterworks made home on your lash line.

when you spoke, you were sure your voice sounded more like a desperate plea than a demand for apology.

"why? why did you say that? that was low."

he looked down at his feet, his fingers twiddling against the sword hilt of his wado ichimonji in an attempt to self-soothe, "i know it was wrong. i was just so angry."

"and that makes it okay for you to question my loyalty?" you sniffed, feeling the watery weight cascade down your cheeks.

"no!" he looked up, alarmed, "no! ofcourse it doesn't. i never was— i was just—" he paused, wincing, "—i was jealous of him."

"sanji?!"

he continued, agonized, "yes, the damn cook. and everyone else, i guess. you seemed to have time for everyone but me."

"zoro, why didn't you just say it out loud to me?" you whispered softly. inching closer to him, you rested your palm against his warm cheek. his growing stubble lightly tickled your skin. you hummed softly when he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, pressing an easy kiss to your fingers. "because i- i just couldn't bring myself to. i'm sorry, i should have talked to you rather than being a prick, really."

"i am sorry too. i know we haven't spent any time for the past two weeks or so. i was so busy within myself that i didn't reach out to you." your fingers played gently against the scars on his face from years of training, "these past few days have been hard—"

"—they've been hell."

you laughed despite yourself, "yeah, i guess they've been hell."

his eyes swayed against yours in a guilt-ridden dance, "forgive me?"

you paused a beat, "do you trust me?"

his answer came more easily than breathing did, "more than i trust myself."

you hummed, "sure?"

and he just nodded. as moments passed you both by, he finally quipped up, "so, am i forgiven?"

"well..." you pondered for a second, "technically, i did fuck up too. so, yeah, you're forgiven." you glared at him, "just never say that kinda shit again."

he smiled and when he spoke, he offered a kind explaination, "i didn't actually mean you were fucking the cook. i just- just kinda said it."

"eh," you waved off his comment, "i don't wanna fuck blondes, anyways. to be honest, not really my type."

"huh?!" his eyes widened in play-pretend, "so his hair colour is holding you back?"

"i mean i'm more into idiots who grow slowly on me. like moss does on a wet towel."

roronoa zoro— bounty hunter, pirate, first mate to a terrifying crew, kind of hell, demon, whatever— looked appalled. "are you comparing me to moss?"

"i am comparing how you grew on me to the lowest form of moss that even grows on the stupidest surfaces."

"don't call yourself stupid, now."

you huffed and turned around, walking towards the stairways that led to the rooms, "i am gonna stop talking to you again!"

he laughed, taking in easy strides to walk after you, "just kidding. i promise. your moss, ever and forever more."

he met your pace, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you gave him a wayward grin, "good."

he gave you one right back, "great."

"i'm tired."

"me too."

as you both disappeared back into your room, hand in hand, you made a comment about how much his hair grew and he responded with "like moss grows on a wet towel?". next morning you found yourself waking up to the swordsman's heavy snores and heavier body against you.

stupid moss-head.

a/n: i think i like how this turned out lol. hope it's okay @rkiveinmarvel and as always, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro fluff #one piece fluff #zoro fanfic #zoro imagine

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Hey, You're Blocking My Sun

content: apollo and aretmis sibling eclipse fic warning: none! just me on my romanticizing the gods grind as per usual lmao. author's note: based off of this little thought blurb. it wasn't leaving my mind so i figured i might as well write a fully flushed fic lmao. I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH OKAY GOOD DAY YALL ENJOY THIS LITTLE ECLIPSE MOMENT FROM ME AND MY MUSHY FEELINGS.

apollo rose that morning without as much resistance as usual. he basically leapt out of bed, happily humming as he brewed his coffee and scribbling down all the haiku's that came to mind. he knew what day it was, which always put a little pep in his step. he knew he had no need to be this excited about the event, it was merely a blip in his immortality and he's done this dance with her a million times in the millennia's that they've been gods together. but, something about the mortal's excitement always managed to rub off on him, leading to him excitedly jumping into his car and all but speeding across the sky.

despite his best efforts, the day seemed to drag on. it was long and dreadful hours before he could see his sister in the distance, which had him sitting a little straighter in his seat. finally, after hours of waiting, artemis pulled her chariot up beside him and gave him a bored look. though, he didn't miss the way her lips twitched with the urge to turn upwards.

"hey! you're blocking my sun," apollo whined with a cheesy smile, leaning over in his car to be closer to her, his sunglasses slipping down his nose so she could see his eyes.

"ha ha. funny as ever, dear brother," artemis replied with a roll of eyes, this time her smile betraying her frustrated tone.

"i do try. at least one of us has to be funny," mused apollo, flirting his eyes to her with a smirk as her jaw dropped.

"i am funny!" bit out artemis but she knew it was a losing battle. the amount of times apollo has made her laugh to the point of tears is far too many too keep track of anymore. not after all these years.

"keep telling yourself that, kiddo," winced apollo, pretending to inspect his nails like he didn't care to be in his sisters presences when it was the exact opposite. if he could have it his way, apollo would never part from his sister's side. his father would have his ass but sometimes apollo contemplated if the punishment would be worth it and the answer was always 'yes.'

"don't call me 'kiddo.' you sound like dad," artemis replied which had both of them fake gagging.

"ew! don't say that! that's so mean," huffed apollo, crossing his arms and glaring over at the girl.

"ooooo, you're in trouble," mocked artemis, pointing over at where some clouds were starting to gather, surely blocked quite a few of the mortals view of their event. apollo pouted at the development, disappointed on the mortal's behalf.

"whatever. joy killer," apollo muttered, which just earned him more clouds and a few giggles from his sister.

"time's almost up," whispered artemis, the words falling from her lips like a venom. her face twisted at the words, a frown and a furrowing of brows taking over her face. she glanced over at her sunshine brother and realized how much she'd been looking forwards to this day - she'd been keeping a count down since the last one, subconsciously but still there.

"c'mere," sighed apollo, gesturing with at himself his arms as he leaned out his car. artemis bridged the distance, basically curling into her brother's hold as her cheek squished against his tan skin.

"i love you to the moon and back," she breathed into his shoulder, apollo's cheesy smile and slightly misty eyes hidden behind her back.

"i love you to the sun and back...kiddo," apollo replied, earning a strong shove from the girl, who was rolling her eyes at him.

"you suck. ruined a perfectly good moment!"

"yup! it'd get so boring around here if we were just mushy gushy all the time."

"whatever," artemis hissed, crossing her arms and turning away from the boy for a moment before glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a nearly begging look in her gaze that had apollo melting like ice cream.

"same time in twenty years?" she asked, even though she knew she didn't have to.

"wouldn't miss it for the world," he answered, even though he knew he didn't have to either.

call it twin telepathy or just sibling love, but they both knew how important this was to both of them. it was a silent understanding but an understanding nonetheless that they couldn't live without the other.

#more romanticizing of the gods bc i CANNOT and WILL NOT be stopped lmao #siblings are sibling-ing frfr #apollo #artemis #apollo and artemis #greek gods #this is pumpkinbxtchs fault frfr #i love this with my whole soul #solar eclipse #eclipse #pjo #hoo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #all my love ౨ৎ #postcards from covey ౨ৎ #ancient greek #greek mythology #greek posts

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watatsumiis · 1 year

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Reactions to Being Ignored for Video Games (part 3)

Modern AU Genshin characters react to the reader not paying attention to them in favour of a video game! No content warnings apply. Enjoy!

Characters: Heizou, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lisa, Pantalone, Pierro

Part 1 (Ayato, Arlecchino, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno)

Part 2 (Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Foul Legacy, Gorou, Itto)

Heizou doesn't take it super personally, he understands being super invested in something and not wanting to pull your attention away. It doesn't stop him from getting bored, though. He'll sit near you and comment on your game, your technique, everything. If you're playing something that's story-heavy, he'll be trying to guess every little twist and turn, what will happen next, which characters will die, everything. The worst part about it is that he's usually right, this guy can pick up on patterns with incredible efficiency, so no foreshadowing slips by him. Because of this, you'd be better off just giving him attention if you don't want your game spoiled for you.

Kaveh simply cannot handle being ignored. He picks up on the fact that you're not paying attention immediately, and he will whine about it. He'll stand in front of the console, or wave his hands in your face, and pout adorably at you. He has no shame, he's like a needy dog, all up in your space and chattering away. He gets very pouty very quickly if you continue to ignore him, and may even storm off, only to come back within less than a minute. It doesn't take long for him to start getting genuinely upset though, and you know you'll have to go into damage control mode when he finally sits down and just mopes like a pathetic little clump of dirt. He doesn't mean for it to come off as guilt trippy, he's just extraordinarily sensitive and needs some form of acknowledgement when he's seeking it or else he starts to get freaked out.

Kazuha doesn't mind - he understands that sometimes people need some time alone with their thoughts and something simple and easy to do so that they can unwind. Sometimes he doesn't quite understand that alone time really does mean alone time. He'll take a seat nearby and look over your shoulder, making quiet observations about the game, maybe even pulling inspiration from it for his poetry. It's not like he's actively expecting you to respond (more just talking away to himself), but it can be a little offputting either way to have him just hovering there and counting out syllables for a haiku or something. If you ask him nicely, he's fine if you'd like him to leave or be quiet (though he struggles a bit with being entirely silent or still), but it won't take long for him to start suffering from your lack of acknowledgement, and he may get up and leave to go find something more stimulating for him to do.

Lisa pulls the classic mom-type reaction, standing in your peripheral with her hands on her hips or crossed over her chest after she's said your name. Her presence is pretty hard to ignore, and she'll get pretty grumpy if you manage to do so. She understands the concept of online games, and games you can't pause, so you'll get a small grace period, but she gets antsy quickly, and may start to lecture you on your manners or other such things. If you don't want a stern scolding, you'd probably want to turn whatever device you're playing off and start paying attention, or else she'll find some chores or something to assign you - even if she has no right whatsoever to do so.

Pantalone will have absolutely none of it. You don't get a grace period, if he's in the room and talking to you, he expects your complete and utter unwavering attention, he doesn't care whether or not you're in the middle of a super important multiplayer match, or if you just need ten seconds more. He'll snatch the controller from you and turn his nose up as he continues with whatever he's saying as your character slowly dies on screen. He has a certain affinity for efficiency, so doesn't like having to repeat himself when he truly doesn't have to. If you miss an integral part of something he's saying because you're doing something else, he considers that to be your problem, not his, and off he goes.

Pierro doesn't understand any of these 'videos game', or 'television sets', or why you're so enamoured by them. It baffles him entirely, all he knows is how to change the volume and turn the TV on and off when he wants to watch his shows (or 'stories' as he so eloquently dubs them). He just wanders to stand in front of you and talk at you, whether or not you're actually paying attention. The only real reaction he has to being utterly ignored is to speak a little louder and move a little closer, though he has no qualms about confiscating your device if he's trying to have a proper conversation with you and you're snubbing him entirely. He just plucks it from your hands, finishes what he's saying, then walks off with it.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

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suntoru · 1 year

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𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍

synopsis: you find a gigantic stuffed bear at your desk for valentine’s day! how does your genshin best friend react when it’s not from them?

a/n: hi everyone, this is my special valentines day post ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ i hope you like it, it’d my second time writing for genshin 😋

warnings: a bit of swearing, fluff, crack, semi-angst

bnha version

diluc would be the cutest bby <333 he pouts slightly because that was his plan, he wanted to be the one to surprise you :( slightly salty n gets jealous of the bear, buys a bigger, cuter one in hope you’ll replace it. he gets urges to snatch it out of your hands, but he just can’t because you look so cute snuggling with it and he doesn’t wanna make you sad.

“…you got a valentines gift? …good for you.”

kaeya pretends to be happy for you, but in reality, he gets self-depreciating thoughts. was it really that easy to make you blush? what if you’ll leave his side one day? is he really going to lose you to some rando who doesn’t even have the courage to give a gift to you theirselves? his insecurities start to rise, but he’s quick to cover it up through his fake teasing and grits his teeth into a smile.

“ah, y/n, you got a gift! and i thought i was going to be the one receiving the most presents.”

childe is another salty man baby >:((( how dare someone try and steal his crush best friend? subtly insults the bear all day 😞 when he sees you protect the bear and call it cute, he literally growls at the bear 💀 first, it’s stealing all of your attention and hugs, now he gets in trouble because of it? because he’s petty, later at night he’ll swipe it and replace it with an identical one. don’t worry, you’ll never know, the only difference is that instead of the bright red bow around it’s neck, it now has an orangey ginger one <3

“pfttt, y/n, that’s the ugliest bear i’ve ever seen! whoever gave you that put in no effort at all!”

kazuha understands the feelings of your secret admirer. after all, how can he keep such a beauty to himself? your smile, your laugh, and your flustered gaze are all memories etched into his brain. he’s dedicated hundreds of haikus and poems to you, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling his heart slightly pang when you get all excited and happy, asking him who he thought it was. if he did the same thing, would you act the same way?

“someone left a present for you? …i see, how thoughtful.”

venti barters you for it. he thinks if he begs nicely and gives you a fair trade, you’ll let him take the bear and dispose of it! he begs you all day, following you around the school for hours. but when you refuse his offer multiple times, he’ll whine and cling onto you. it’s not fair! he swears he’s seen the exact same bear at dollarama for 4 bucks, so why won’t you trade it for his new ps5? you meanie >:(

“y/nnnn, stop being so mean! what else could you possibly want?”

scaramouche rips the cutely wrapped gigantic stuffie from your hands and marches out the classroom despite your protests >:( when he returns to the classroom, he comes back empty handed. he smirks in victory, thinking he’s won, but when he sees the shocked and sad look on your face, he realizes he fucked up. you ignore him for the rest of the day until you find him waiting at your locker with the biggest stuffed bear you’ve ever seen.

“listen idiot, the only reason i got you this was so you’d stop bothering me.”

xiao is… silent. but on the inside, he feels his heart twist. why is he feeling this? while yes, you were his best friend, he didn’t expect to get so attached. but now… you’re tugging on his heartstrings. while he doesn’t say anything, you’ve learned how to read him like an open book, or at least you think you do. when he feels you tap on his shoulder, knocking him out of his thoughts, you extend the bear to him. this is why he was frowning, right? it’s okay, you’ll just share it with him <3

“what? …i don’t want to hold the bear. in fact, keep it as far away from me as possible.”

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tenjiiku · 1 year

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get down on it / 18+

“I read a poem today.”

You laugh through a mouthful of warm noodles. The sound is pretty.

It is why Rin said what he said — he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear you happy and content, even at his own expense. He hates how he’s been feeling this way, but he can’t stop.

He is on his fifth or fourth beer (give or take), and is a bit lightheaded (you will probably have to carry him home, he hopes he recollects none of it, sober-him would probably die of embarrassment). Nothing matters, though, because you look quite lovely under the calm yellow lighting of the quaint ramen shop, especially when you are smiling. The season is over so he has been somewhat over-indulging in all of the things prohibited to him before and has been going a little crazy at this newfound freedom.

Luckily, he now has you to keep him somewhat in check. Rin is more and more finding himself wanting to keep you impressed. He’s never wanted to really prove himself to anyone before his brother. Of course, you had to come in and ruin everything he has ever known.

But you make it so easy — he doesn’t even need to try. He’s never felt this way about anyone.

So he wants to keep it, and he wants to keep you.

“Did you?”

“Yes,” he burps, “by Mitsune.”

You giggle again, and his cheeks — already warm from the alcohol in his system — catch on fire tenfold. His eyes focus on your hands, the way they hold your chopsticks and mix your broth around. They’re smaller than his. He blushes, wondering how they’d look with a ring on.

Rin wonders if you’d let him put one on you.

“Which one?” You ask through a hearty mouthful of pork and noodles.

“Something about Spring and ageing.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not really. Made me feel something.”

“Aren’t all poems inherently created to make the reader feel something?”

You’re smart — intelligent, in a refined way. You carry this cerebral aura around you and Rin was rather intimidated by you when he was first reunited with you at the age of twenty-five, two years ago. And you were younger than him, which only made him more weary around you. You were nothing like the snot-nosed kid you were back in middle school when he was in Blue Lock. You were beautiful, mature — everything he wanted. Though it took him a while to admit this.

Sometimes it takes him a while to understand you. But you took so many procedures to appreciate him. He always felt the need to return the favour, even if that came in the form of reading a haiku he did not really fathom, by your favourite poet.

He’s trying. It feels gross. But the rewards are so sweet.

“I guess…”

You laugh. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. It doesn’t work.

“How is your thesis going?”

He changes the topic.

“Hmm…, it is going well, I suppose,” you grab for his beer while he picks at a piece of your pork cutlet, “Tenma-san was quite impressed with my research on artificial intelligence usage for pharmaceutical research.”

He regrets that he has changed the topic.

“Mhm.”

He chews on your pork cutlet as you sip on his beer. You catch onto his deflated mood so quickly. You cannot be from this Earth.

“What?”

He tries to save his ass, spewing a nonchalant, regular, “Nothing. I’m glad you are getting the recognition,” but you notice his disdain all too quickly.

A hand is placed on his cheek, “Rin.”

He instantly places his own over yours, pressing the cold palm further into his warm skin, “Yes, my darling?”

Rin is drunk — that’s why he called you that, he reasons. He furrows your eyebrows at the face you make at him. He hates how his stomach twists. You look at him as one would to a stray dog. He can’t even hate you.

“You’re sulking.”

“No I’m not,” he says, frowning.

You pull the skin of his forehead up with your other free hand. He squints his eyes as you expose it to the cool air.

“You’re going to get wrinkles before you turn forty.”

His head grows hot. His hand resting on yours on his cheek, changed to hold it against his face. Rin holds it tightly, holds you tightly.

“And? So?” His tone is colder than he wanted to let off. It sounds condemnatory, “Will you not want me anymore?”

You only smile at his scowl and captious behaviour. Rin’s eyes soften.

“Mmm no,” you brush hair that’s fallen over his eyes behind his ear, “but you will complain to me about them.”

“And you won’t listen? I won’t do it for you anymore? You’ll elope with Tenma?”

He’s being mean and nonsensical, Rin knows this. He is also intoxicated and tired and helplessly in love with you — but he’ll only ever mention the former than the latter in his defence; which is inadvertently the cause of all of his security issues.

Rin knows you won’t do anything he’s mentioned. He trusts you. Though, sometimes he likes the reassurance. And he really likes it when you know he is being childish and naive.

“Rin,” you whisper. He loves it when you say his name. He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, baby?” He calls you this because he wants to. He is finished pretending after his fifth beer.

“Tenma-san is sixty years old and is living a very healthy life with his lovely wife.”

Your voice is so sweet. You’re smiling to the point your cheeks are glowing. You smell of warm soup and home. You’re so pretty. You’re only ever this pretty for him, Rin decides.

He takes your hand off from his face to kiss each of your fingers, pulling your stool closer to his with his long and agile legs. You yelp at the sudden actions but you keep your eyes on him, just how Rin likes.

“Tell me I’m your only one,” he rasps against your hand, bending his head. His hair falls over his forehead. Rin knows you like it when he is like this.

You laugh nervously, stuttering. Rin smirks.

“Rin, this is silly…” you murmur, watching intensely as he kisses your skin. He gives you back your hand, only to place it around his neck. You let him.

He wants to kiss you, Rin resolves.

“Tell me,” he demands.

Then he sees it. Rin really sees you. You don’t look at him like he’s a stray dog — a gaze full of pity — you never have. You only ever look at him like you’d rather die than take his eyes off him. Typically such intensity would make him uncomfortable, Rin does not think he deserves such attention. Yet, if he thinks too much about you looking at Tenma-san or anybody else for that matter — the same way you stare at him — his head starts feeling hot. His hands begin to feel clammy and he starts to itch.

Rin sees his reflection in your eyes when you come in closer. He realises he’s looking at you exactly how you look at him. You wrap your other arm to meet your hand already resting around his neck. Your legs find solace between his, and you look at him with an emotion he can’t describe — maybe this is what Mitsune was trying to convey.

Rin didn’t care much about Spring. People told him to worry when he turned twenty-seven. But he doesn’t care about any of that.

“You’re my only one.”

Rin buries himself in your shoulder, growing warm at the sound of your laughter and admittance.

He is only concerned about how to make this feeling last; you, in his arms — him, in yours.

The alcohol in Rin’s system has more so settled, but the heat in his body has only gotten more fervent.

Both of you are still wet from the rain that started right as you stepped out of the bar. You had to carry Rin to the taxi. He remembers you had to apologise to the driver when he had put a hand on the small of your back, trying to help you put this six foot four football player in the backseat. Rin remembers making a deranged comment of some sort — he does not recall what exactly he said, but he does recall the slap he received on his head from you for spewing such an insult at the innocent taxi driver.

He was restless, beside you. A large warm hand drawing circles up and down your thigh. You, holding his wrist to prevent him from going up any further. You, whispering for him to get himself together. Him, pressing insistent kisses at your collar and neck.

Rin feels insatiable when you finally arrive home.

You’re taking too long to unlock the door. He drapes his frame onto you, taking your scarf off from around your neck and pushing your hair to the side to kiss at the sin.

“Rin— door,” you say, breathlessly trying to slot the key into the lock.

Rin doesn’t stop. He circles his arms around your waist, biting your earlobe. His stomach twists when you yelp. “Hurry, baby.”

You laugh when his hair tickles at your neck. His grip around you tightens at the noise. You giggle even more as you fidget with the keys and Rin’s inconsolable mood.

“I’m— I’m trying.” You gasp out.

When Rin hears the telltale sound of a click, he practically shoves you inside. You squeal at the sight of his rapacious smile as he quickly closes the door and pushes you against it, locking it quickly.

“Rin!”

He likes it when you say his name. His pupils dilate. You let him take your coat, scarf and shoes off. They’re discarded somewhere on the floor of the genkan. Rin’s hands are all over you, they’re apologetic, almost — sorry that they had to be off of you for that second between getting inside the apartment. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Sorry. Pretty,” is all Rin says before locking your lips with his. He sighs into your mouth. This is what he was missing.

When your fingers scratch at his scalp and softly tug at his dark tresses, he groans. His hand grips your ass through your skirt and plays with the hem of your top. You gasp and giggle at this, and he grins into the kiss at the sound.

He taps your arm. You lift them up and your shirt comes off. You tug at his trench coat and sweater, they’re thrown to the side.

“Up,” he rasps against your lips.

You wrap your legs around him, his large hands digging into your ass to lift you up. Your skirt falls to your waist, exposing the top of your white thigh highs. Rin grunts at the sight, carrying you to the bedroom.

He lays you down gently onto your bed, holding himself up by one elbow. He kisses you softly, swallowing your small moans. Rin kisses your neck, between the valley of your breasts, taking your bra off with one hand. He continues to kiss downwards; the mole under your rib cage until he reaches your skirt. Hooking his fingers under it and your underwear, he tugs them off your legs, standing over your awaiting frame with one knee digging into the mattress.

Rin gazes down at you, laid in the sheets he bought. You’re shy, crossing your legs and raising both your hands to your mouth, unintentionally accentuating your cleavage as your elbows push them together.

Rin feels hot — he feels the urge to do very bad things to you.

You call for him, regardless, your voice raw and unkempt — a total juxtaposition to your typical orderly conduct. “Rin— Rin.”

Rin pants. You’ll only ever look like this to him. He’ll never let anyone else have you. He starts to unbuckle his jeans, relishing in the way you look up at him.

With his pants discarded and boxers on, he comes back down to you, tense and inpatient. You willingly welcome him, bending your neck and arching your back to meet his mouth for a hot kiss. His large left hand finds solace between your legs.

You whine into his mouth when he runs a finger up your wet slit. He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both. Rin looks out of place as he stares down at where he touches. Your pussy drenches his slender fingers, he rests himself on his right elbow, letting you burrow your face into his chest as he makes a mess of your clit. You mewl into his skin, and Rin’s pupils dilate at the way you clench around nothing.

“Pretty, you’re wet,” he sounds in pain, touching you languidly; alternating between collecting your juices at your hole to rubbing your sensitive clit. Your thigh highs are drenched at your entrance.

“Rin— feels— feels good,” you whimper, arching your back as he reaches places of you that you never could. You wrap your shaky hands around his bicep, moaning into his arm, “Don’t— Don’t stop.”

Rin feels lightheaded. You clench around his fingers like a second skin. His thumb continues to draw circles in your clit, and he groans at the way you gush around his digits. He presses a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Give it to me, baby. S’mine.”

Your thighs close around his insistent hand, but Rin doesn’t stop — because he listens to you; he’ll listen to you whine, he’ll listen to you cry, he’ll listen to you mewl his name.

You come for him with his name on your tongue. Rin has won many things in his life but this reward is the sweetest, “Rin, Rin.”

Your thighs twitch against his thigh. He draws slow circles into your slit, keeping your high going. Rin whispers a quiet ‘Good Girl’ into your scalp, turning your chin with his other hand to bring you into a lazy, messy kiss.

Bringing his fingers from your pussy up to this mouth, he breaks the kiss to only lick at them. He looks at you, as he does so — and appreciates the nervous tears that fill your eyes at the sight. You’re panting — shaking, almost. It is a pitiful yet beautiful sight to see, and a dark part of Rin wants to see you like this more.

He brings his fingers to your lips, resting them. He stares at you ardently, waiting for you to do something. You open your mouth, and he pushes his digits into your mouth. Sucking them clean with your tongue, Rin takes them out then gives one final kiss to your lips.

Crawling above you, he is on his knees between your legs. Taking a spare pillow, he places it under your back. You whimper as his hard on presses against your thigh and notice how Rin’s underwear is wet at the centre.

Rin pulls his boxers down, pulling his cock out and prodding it at your slit. You sniffle at the contact his hot cockhead makes with your sensitive clit. He groans, his precum pooling together with your slick at your wanton entrance.

“Gonna give it to me?” He grunts, wiping sweat from his forehead — clenching his stomach when your pussy quivers against his cock.

You whimper, and answer him by taking your shaky hands and opening your pussy lips, exposing your quivering hole. Rin almost passes out by your action.

“Fuck,” He groans, sinking into your lewd hole, “Shit.”

The bed frame creaks as he buries himself inside you. You gasp and whine, arching your back as his large cock enters you with a purpose. You cry out his name when he finally bottoms out. “Rin— Rin!”

He looms over your frame, pressing his body on top of you, like a weighted blanket. You mewl when he presses kisses to your neck, moaning into the junction between your neck and shoulder when your fingernails scratch at his back. “Fuck, baby…”

“Rin,” you plead to him, whining into his ear as he falls and wraps his arms around you, only grinding deeper into you. Your legs tremble around his.

Large hands smooth out the skin in your back, hot fingers surely bruising your skin. You whimper as he lifts his head to look up at you, his chain vainly dangling at your chest. Your tits press against his chest and the proximity makes you cry his name — his name being the only thing you know. You’re pretty, you’re so pretty and you’re all his, is all Rin senses.

Rin groans, deep from his stomach as his balls hit your ass from the insistent thrusting. The bed frame creaks lewdly beneath you both, and he swallows your moans with a kiss. He breaks the kiss too soon, tenderly brushing your cheeks covered with tears as you mewl for him.

“Tell— fuck — Tell me I’m yours,” Rin begs you. He kisses you sensually once more, breaks it and asks you again, “Baby, tell me you’ll never leave.”

“Rin, Rin, Rin,” your head grows hot at the request.

You arch your back as he pounds into your abused cunt mercilessly, and you see stars when he licks two fingers that go down to tease at your clit.

“You — You’re mine,” you lament, your legs shaking, overflowing with some otherworldly pleasure, “I— I’ll never leave.”

Rin keens at your admission, grinding into you as your pussy squeezes around his insatiably hard cock. When he thrusts it just at the right spot, you lose your senses.

“Rin, Rin — I’m — love you— I love you—” you babble incoherently, “Ri—Right there!”

Rin’s eyebrows furrow at your debauched face. You’re so cute. He feels kinda bad that he broke you this soon, but when your cunt clamps around him like the most sinful vice — he doesn’t feel that bad anymore. He’ll be whatever you want him to be — but he really wants you to be like this for him right now.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna — shit — gonna come for me?” His sweat drips down onto you, and his voice sounds ruined — nothing like his usual self. You nod feverishly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for dear life.

“I— I’m close, too.” Rin pants.

When he starts to increase the speed of his movements, you wail. You come around him with his name on your tongue for the second time, twitching from overstimulation. He comes inside you with a small curse and a bite at your neck. His cum is warm inside you, familiar. You yelp as it continues to pump his seed inside you. Rin gently brings you back down, brushing your hair and cheekbones with a calloused hand. You groan into his mouth when he kisses you.

Rin stays inside you, because he wants to. You let him, because you want to be close to him. He turns to lay on his back with a grunt, pulling you on top of him. You nuzzle yourself into his bare chest, fingers playing with the silver chain he has of your initials.

After a while, you smile up at him. He looks down at you, still in a haze.

“The driver was watching you,” you whisper shyly to him, recalling how you had made eye contact with the driver in the rear view mirror while Rin was gnawing at your neck like an insane person, “felt so embarrassing, Rin.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, playing with the head of your hair with his other.

“You love me,” He states, a fact.

You slap his chest gently. He only glowers at you.

You look up at him with a beautiful smile. His chest contracts. You kiss his chest. “I do,” you murmur, drawing little hearts into his skin. “I love you so much.”

Rin stares at you. He might die. Instead he gets hard. You feel him, and glare. He only laughs, and flips you back around. You yelp, and giggle into another messy kiss.

Rin doesn’t need to tell you he loves you. You just know. You know from each kiss, each bite, and each caress. It is why Rin loves you, because you know, and you love him regardless.

#rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x fem reader #writing #minors dni

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sodamnradd · 1 year

Text

Hermione is alone on the porch when he arrives.

Everyone is asleep inside, drowsy after Molly’s Sunday roast and countless bottles of celebratory champagne.

Her stomach twists into a thousand tiny knots.

“Congratulations.”

“Don’t,” she says sharply, another knot welling up in her throat.

Beneath the amber lantern, his eyes are bloodshot. The last time they saw one another, they were bright and melting, burning holes into her skin that she wished to fill with him.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and stands there, looking at her.

She can’t stand the weight of his gaze, so she stares at her knee. At her hand on her knee. At the sparkling jewel nestled around the finger of her hand on her knee.

“I still read Muggle literature,” he says, sitting beside her.

They used to discuss Muggle books for hours, far past curfew, hiding in empty classrooms where nobody could find them.

She notices he’s holding a slip of parchment.

“Different material, though,” he resumes. “Poetry. You know how you would look at the oil landscape on the fourth-floor corridor and say a storm was brewing, but I envisioned it as the end of one?”

“It was literally titled ‘Brewing Tempest’.”

“Not,” he taps her knee with his, “the point.”

She smiles.

“Poetry is kind of like that. Imaginative. Inclusive. Even a stranger can read a few lines and feel at home.”

“Why haven’t you written to me?”

“I was giving you time to be with your friends. You missed them.”

“I miss you.”

The parchment rustles in his hands. It’s folded eight times over. He folds and unfolds it restlessly. “I’m not a writer.”

“I know that.”

“Neither are you,” he adds, insulted by how quickly she agreed.

She breathes a laugh. “I never claimed to be.”

“Do you know what a haiku is?”

“Did you write me one?” she asks, amused.

“No. But I found one that expresses how I’ve felt these last few weeks, watching you slip away. It’s by an American poet. Billy Collins. Maybe it’s too late to give it to you, but I knew I’d regret if I didn’t at least try—”

Hermione snatches it from his hands.

Draco rebukes her impatience, but he rambles when he’s nervous and she's brimming with curiosity.

“Where are you going?” she calls after him.

But he’s already halfway gone, shaking his head like he can’t stand to be there anymore.

Heart in her throat, Hermione reads:

He may compare you

to the dawn, but I

stayed up all night to watch it.

She reads it again.

Twice more.

And then she’s running.

“Draco!” she cries, afraid the pop of Apparation will go off before she can stop him. “Draco!”

It’s too dark and she hasn’t cast a Lumos spell and she can hardly see where she’s—

“Oof!” he gasps as she barrels into him.

It’s the sweetest sound she’s ever heard.

Hermione throws her arms around his neck.

“I made a mistake! I never should have said yes. You didn’t write, so I thought you didn’t want me. You never said anything at school. But I’ve felt this awful regret since the moment he put the ring on my finger and I know it’s because of you. I know—”

He cuts her off with a bruising kiss, pressing into her with such conviction, a thousand knots come undone. Hermione buoys.

The next day, Ron awakes, groggy and hungover.

Alone.

A letter sits on his bedside table. Hermione’s engagement ring sparkles on top.

(588 words, prompt: it's a poem, I read this haiku by Billy Collins and remembered this prompt and had to do something with it.)

#sodamnrad #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dhr #dramione drabble #drabble #sodamnraddrabbles

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percyjacksonblog · 3 months

Text

I just finished the first Trials of Apollo book and I got to say, I actually enjoyed it.

I read the original 5 PJOs from 2007-9. 6th grade to 7th grade. Then starting in 2010 (?) when The Lost Hero came out I read each of the HoO books as they came out. I think I was a freshman in college (2014?) when the last one came out, so I can honestly say I grew up with these characters and this world.

I don’t remember why I didn’t read any of the Trials of Apollo books before but it was nice to come back to this world. I read PJO 6 when it came out last fall and it sparked my love of reading these stories again, so I read The Hidden Oracle to continue this story to keep up to date in this world.

Spoilers ahead

So as I mentioned before I did like this book.

It’s been literal years since I read any of TLF, but I did get some major TLF vibes from it. The set up for the rest of the series is pretty good.

Haikus for chapter titles A+

Showing that the mythic world is always growing and there is a new generation of Demigods (Clarisse, and Travis going to college, Percy and Annabeth in their senior year)

Cameos from og characters like Connor, Percy, Malcolm, Nico, and Will

Interesting take that once Apollo and Meg arrived at camp they technically never left. I think except for BotL and TLO this book and the most limited outside of camp action. Not a bad thing, just a different experience.

Peaches!

I’m not going to lie I genuinely did not expect that twist! I was legitimately shocked. Looking back I feel like I could have picked up on some of the clues. I mean imperial gold swords…come on. That should have been a dead giveaway.

Apollo really did grow as a character this book. I’m very interested to see how else he grows.

My biggest question is, if Apollo is supposed to be Lester, why don’t the other demigods refer to him as Lester? Like what is the point of an entirely different identity if it’s really not used? Apollo only refers to himself as Lester when he’s complaining about mortality or feeling useless. Maybe it’s more important later but I feel like making an entirely new identity, one that Nero and probably the rest of the Triumvirate can see through, is kind of pointless. One of the themes of this book is acceptance, so maybe when Apollo totally accepts “Lester” that’s the end.

So much of this was too easily accomplished by Apollo or Apollo/Meg. They were met with a problem and it was almost solved too easily. The thugs in the beginning, Meg beat them up. Attacked by plague spirits, Meg summons Peaches, trapped in the cocoon made by ants and almost about to be eaten, flower seeds that your 1/2 sister gave you before your quest. Trying to fight off ants, just sing a song and they’ll be mesmerized. Don’t get me wrong I loved all those scenes, but the only time that any of the characters actually struggled was fighting Nero. Even when they’re fighting the giant statue, Apollo’s arrow magically gets helped by the wind.

I really hope Apollo finds Meg. I have the second book ready to go and will start reading it. I need her to come back to camp. That poor girl had been emotionally and mentally abused by Nero. She was also manipulated by him and I feel so sorry for her.

Leo coming back to camp and Nico setting up a queue to allow the campers to punch him was legitimately one of the funniest things I’ve read in the entire Percy Jackson world.

Calypso giving up immortality is huge. Her reunion with Percy was also funny.

Apollo’s reaction to Calypso was also amazing (juicy gossip. Don’t ask me later.) If Percy is the god of sass, Apollo is literally the god of gossip. I love it.

I’m excited to keep going with this series. It’s nice to that I don’t have to wait until the next book gets published because it’s already out.

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #trials of apollo #the hidden oracle #apollo

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monosminecraftmania · 2 years

Text

JoeHillsTSD

joe

“Howdy” A friendly tip of the nonexistant hat is very polite. That is unless your head is topped with three foot long horns.

“Haiku” Draws a sheaf of parchment from one of the various nooks and crannies of his twisted wooden body and recites a poem that exacts damage in the form of the plant the poem was written about. ah poetry.

Hills

“Grow hills” Summons a powerful wave of plants and various grains to strike his opponent

“Time skip” with a wave of his hand mangrove roots grow out of the ground and attempt to ensnare the opponent. has a 50/50 chance of working. I don’t know about you but controlling 80 individual roots is tough work!

#hermitcraft #hermonsters #vintagebeef #hermitcrafttcg #joehillstsd #joehills #joe hills

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sweetnsour1 · 2 years

Text

4:46:02

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader, 2/4

Read Part 1

Part of the Cute as hell collection

He had his hands in his pockets. He was shouting something at Todoroki and...he turned around like he could feel your gaze. You stumbled into Mina as you hurried past the open door of class A.

"Woah, sorry y/n! You okay?" You glared at her.

"No! Whyyy did you text Bakugou from my phone? You said you were just entering his number!"

"Hmmmm, because you dooo think he looks good?"

"That's not the point! He never replied and it's so weird now."

"Eh, don't sweat it. He's more of a reader than a texter. He never replies to us either." You swatted her hand away when she pat at the top of your head. "Isn't that right, Bakugou?" Her eyes trailed over your head and you spun around.

"She doesn't like being touched, raccoon eyes." She smiled and twisted around you both, spinning into the classroom. She stuck her head back into the hallway.

"Maybe she's waiting for the right person to try." She winked and swung back into the room when you lunged towards her. You groaned and slowly turned back to the uncharacteristically quiet blonde.

"Sorry about-" His body faced you, but he was looking out of the windows.

"Told ya' not to say that shit to me. It's fine. I know how annoying she is." You nodded and bit at your lip. You tugged at the frayed strap of your bag, wondering if you should just walk around him. "So the text was a shitty joke?" You stopped trying to plan your escape. You forced your eyes up to see a red face under what looked like very soft blonde hair. How did he keep it up if it still looked soft? You cleared the thought away and simultaneously answered his question with a shake of your head. You cleared your throat when he didn't answer.

"Umm...it wasn't from me, but I...I did say it." He turned to you with that adorable shitty grin of his. You no longer felt the urge to look away, knowing you'd somehow lose if you did. "And I did ask her for your number." He nodded and cocked his head to the side.

"Ya coulda just asked me for it if you wanted it so bad." You rolled your eyes and nudged him out of your way, finally continuing on to your own classroom.

"Yea, well it turns out I didn't need it. Heard you don't text, grandpa."

"The fuck did you just call me?" You chuckled, turning at the door of class B.

"What? Lost your hearing too?" You walked to your seat, hearing a growl echo in the hall behind you. Your phone vibrated as you slid it into your bag.

So you think you're cute?

My hearing is fucking great.

Like the rest of me.

You quickly tapped out a reply.

Hahaha is that a haiku? How ancient are you? ☠️

You grinned as it buzzed angrily back, but dropped it back into your bag without checking the screen.

Go back to part 1

Go read part 3

Connected to the 7:50:xx Bakugou fluff series

Masterlist

#bakugou #bakugou fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou fic #fluff

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the-bar-sinister · 7 days

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Before I Sleep (580 words) by thesavagesabretooth Summary: After having his legs maimed by a monster Simon is about to freeze to death in the woods. Another monster, one who calls himself Bobby Fulbright, shows up to rescue him.

Based on @mio-nika 's amazing Yokai Hunter AU artwork!

Simon was thinking about undoing his bandages, but he'd probably already stopped bleeding, anyway. The injury from his fight wasn't severe enough to kill him on its own, just to cripple him in a way that his legs couldn't bear his weight. He had walked as far as he could on it, until he'd fallen on his knees in the snow. There was no way he could make it the two miles back to town.

It was a shame. He'd rather bleed to death than freeze to death. He'd heard that those who froze to death felt so hot at the end that they stripped off all their clothes.

Simon wasn't feeling warm right now. He was feeling desperately cold. He leaned against the trunk of the tree and stared up at the branches of it as the snow filtered down between them, piling up around him.

It was beautiful, at least. The quiet, still forest full of mist and snow and silvery moonlight. It was a beautiful place for a samurai to die alone.

If he'd had something to write with him, he'd have composed a haiku for the momentous, foolish occasion.

He shouldn't have chased the creature so far out into the woods on his own. It had been hubris, perhaps. In the end he'd dispatched the beast, but not before it had maimed his legs. In the end, neither of them would leave the woods.

Simon was ready to let himself go to sleep when he heard the sound of crunching in the dry, snowy underbrush. It was probably an animal, but his instincts couldn't ignore it. He grabbed his sword where it lay by his side.

A figure materialized slowly out of the mist.

Fulbright.

Or rather– the menreiki who wore his face. He wasn't wearing it now, as he materialized– rather Simon saw the ghoulish theater mask that might have been the creature's real face. Or one of them.

"Come to gloat, then?" Simon demanded, sneering up at him.

The yokai waved a hand across its face, and the one that Simon had grown accustomed to appeared in its stead. Fulbright grinned his wide, stupid grin at him.

"Now, sir! Is that any way to thank your rescuer? It would be terribly unjust for you to die here, you know!"

Before Simon could protest any further, Bobby reached down and picked him up carefully, maiden style in his arms. Simon resented how well he managed it– how little it hurt and how easily he fit in the false man's embrace.

He flushed and glowered indignantly at him. "Put me down this instant!"

"And die in the snow with you, sir?" Fulbright's smile waxed almost nostalgic. "I'd only be able to pretend, though, I'm afraid."

Simon's scowl and flush both deepend, and he twisted his body sullenly in the yokai's arms, jabbing him in the shoulder with the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"And here I thought you lacked the capacity for romance," Simon muttered.

They both fell silent as Fulbright carried him through the mist toward the lights of the village.

Simon started to feel warm again as the yokai held him, and he resented that too. But it was hard to focus on. As the dizzy pain started to return with the warmth in his body, he rested his head against Fulbright's broad chest.

Looking up at the stolen mask of a face, in a moment of weakness Simon let himself imagine a fairytale.

#phantomquill #blackbright #simon blackquill #bobby fulbright #ace attorney #whump #whump writing #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #spoilers #ace attorney spoilers #dual destinies spoilers

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thefinalcinderella · 4 months

Text

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 6 - Genuine (Part 2)

My brain as I was translating this: what is bro yapping about

also please don't ask me to clarify anything that happened in this chapter, i also have no idea. i'm pretty sure only the author knows 😂all i know is that they were definitely doing kyudo.

TW: suicide mention

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

A saijiki is an almanac of Japanese seasonal terms used for poetry

Asahina's name (朝日奈) contains the characters for morning sun

Adults (成人) and saints (聖人) have the same reading (seijin)

A box-like structure where rain shutters are stored when not in use

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Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you.

Don’t laugh and just listen to me.

The competitors from both schools met face to face at the prefectural finals. The sky began preparations to show off its triumphant end.

Asahina and Minato faced each other.

“Looks like ‘Minahead’ worked. Thanks.”

“Please don’t make surprise attacks like you did the other day.”

“Hahaha, sorry. The protection around you was strong, so that was the best I could do.”

Eddie pushed up his hair. “We have no need for superstition anymore.”

“That’s right, partner.”

Asahina and Eddie bumped elbows. They were like children who played a secret prank on their parents.

Haneina’s coach, Tsucchi, and Masa-san faced off.

“My archers are in top form. We’re going to win.”

“I don’t know about that. Kazemai can use the wind, after all.”

“I don’t want any funny tricks. Show us what you can do.”

“Go easy on us.”

The archers from both schools entered the shajo with orange and yellow-green headbands tied around their heads.

Haneina High School had Eddie, Matsuda, Kanuma, Igarashi, and Asahina.

Kazemai High School had Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato.

They each stepped onto the shooting line and spread their legs.

The oomae of Haneina was Eddie. His golden hair fluttered in the sun. Spreading his white wings, the archangel descended upon the land of the east. The eccentric was an assumed figure, and the truth was revealed.

He objected to the strange land of Japan, where everyone wore matching outfits to find jobs. Who told them to wear black? Was it because it wouldn’t stand out even if they settled down in a graveyard? Those who prepared loyalty tests for the company would have been promoted and given a nice apartment. Ceasing to think for yourself was what politicians wanted you to do. Misguided servility made the conceited even more fattened. If you were going to dance the same dance, then dance in your own colors.

The arrow was aimed at the demon’s heart. But Eddie and Kaito hit the center.

Next was Matsuda on the second target. One day, a house party was held. The servants, who were usually unsmiling, broke out into big smiles as soon as the host appeared in the room. Before he knew it, everyone in the room had smiles pasted onto their faces. “Supporting the disabled is my purpose in life. We are very concerned about you. With this product, you can reduce your anxiety about your future,” they whispered, but the bow made no distinction between the disabled and the able-bodied. The love that asked for nothing in return was always there.

The released arrow shattered the window glass. Ryouhei followed as well.

Kanuma on the third target opened his haiku saijiki. (1) Beautiful phrases that reflected Japan’s weather, astronomy, geography, and human affairs were lined up side by side. The finely honed senses of their ancestors that resided in each phrase hadn’t faded away even now.

Words were twisted, woven, knitted, and tied together. Weaving brocade was the living wisdom and culture of creatures without fur. The clothes we wore revealed our environment and thoughts. Those who could manipulate words and know the hidden power of words could transcend the concept of time and fly to the moment at any time. Right now, Kanuma has composed a song.

Kanuma and Seiya summoned tsurune.

Brain, be deceived. Make a miracle happen.

Taking the sound of the matooto as a signal, Igarashi raised his bow. Anyone could step into his flower garden. Flowers such as bellflowers, gentians, and campanulas were preferred, and the bells rang when the wind blew. Bees and butterflies frolicked amidst the flowers, grass lizards and rainbow-colored lizards lay in the grass, and red-flanked blue tails rested on the branches. He picked the withered flowers and thinned out overcrowded foliage. A garden that took time to grow was a treasure. Igarashi applied that image to his own bow. He slept every night holding his bow, of which only one existed in this world.

As Igarashi and Nanao’s arrows flew, flowers bloomed along the path.

In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo gasped. Since there were a lot of hits in quick succession, they braced themselves so they wouldn’t miss the chance to cheer.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.”

“Both schools are sparkling.”

“This is exactly what ‘brilliance’ is.”

The ochi Asahina, as his name suggested, was the embodiment of the sun. (2) His red hair burned in the twilight.

Fire.

Fire knew what you had done.

It also knew the name and face of your accomplice.

If you wanted to purify yourself, go to the sea. If you wanted power, go to the mountains. Whichever path you chose, he would be a torchbearer and a guide. Heaven watched the deeds of those who lived on earth. Three children were born out of the fire. At any given time, there existed something that recorded the events on earth. Memories that were passed down became stories.

Asahina and Minato released their arrows.

For the second shot, nobody missed.

For the third short, the sound of the matooto didn’t cease.

The wind blew through the kyudojo, where conversation and even breathing were taboo.

Where was the wind going? Who was it bringing with it?

A memory of a day he spent with Masa-san flashed through Minato’s mind.

Yata Forest, where the crescent moon hang in the deep blue sky. The sound of rustling leaves sounded like the trees were welcoming them as the two walked along the white path illuminated by moonlight.

“Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you. I had a strange experience a long time ago. I haven’t even told Seiya and Ryouhei about it. They’ll probably think I’m crazy or just laugh at me and say I was dreaming. Will you listen to me?”

“I will.”

“You won’t laugh?”

“I won’t.”

Minato took a deep breath.

“I was a bit out of it that day, and when people told me that it was Setsubun today, I was like, ‘Huh?’ It seemed like I got the date wrong by a day, and I had no memory of the day before Setsubun.”

“Hmm.”

“After scattering the beans, I slept like usual, and the next thing I knew, I was paralyzed. My arms and legs were numb, and I couldn’t move my body at all. While I was panicking, I heard three sounds. It kind of sounded like something used in an old sci-fi movie. Then, all of a sudden, a beam of light hit me from right above my head to my feet with a ker-wham. Just as I was thinking Oh crap, what do I do, I heard the three sounds again, and then I was hit on the top of my head with a wham. I still couldn’t move my body, so I was thinking about reciting the Heart Sutra when my dad woke me up. Apparently I was crying out in my sleep.”

Masa-san’s eyes widened. He burst into laughter.

“So you laughed at me after all. I’m a chuunibyou even in my dreams.”

“No, I was laughing at the onomatopoeia. I wasn’t laughing at what you said.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I had a similar experience. I never told anyone about it, so it’s a secret.”

Masa-san began speaking.

I’ve told you before that when I was in my third year of high school, I got target panic and my master gave up on me. I’ve also told you that in my first year in university, my father sent me a notification of my brother’s death, but actually, when I was nineteen, I got into an argument with my master. I declared that I will never forgive the person who made my brother disappear and that I will take revenge, but my master just lectured me in the usual way, saying that revenge was a foolish thing and that my anger will burn me to death. I asked him why he had been ignoring it until now, and why is it that you, my own family, didn’t understand me. I showered my master with the hateful words that should have been directed towards my father. That ended up being our final conversation.

When I was twenty, in my second year of university, my master passed away. I overcame my target panic and received invitations from several kyudo schools to join them, but I had lost sight of the significance of drawing the bow. I kept asking myself why I was drawing a bow—and then I realized it. No, I finally admitted it. I wanted to be acknowledged as an archer by my “master Yasaka,” no one else. And that will never come true.

In the spring of my third year, I completed shooting a hundred arrows, but all I felt was a sense of emptiness. My father casually sent us letters, as if he was unaware of the despair and threat he posed to us. Was it okay to just do nothing? Would I have no choice but to take these negative feelings with me to the grave?

As summer approached, I began to deeply regret the last words I spoke to my master. Every time I entered the kyudojo, my body became stiff, and I found it hard to breathe. Before I knew it, I couldn’t sleep soundly, and the doctor’s comforting words and medicine didn’t make me feel better. My mother, unable to just watch, took me to a temple in Shikoku.

The chief priest was a quiet person. He read sutras in the morning and sat in front of the Buddha at noon and night. He would visit me from time to time, and we would talk about casual everyday things before going home. During that time, I remained lying on my bed.

Several choruses of cicadas passed by. Everything that lived was covered in shame, and I longed to disappear, but I couldn’t commit suicide for the sake of the family I would be leaving behind. At night, I closed my eyes, hoping that I would never wake up again. If I could at least forget everything, I could live.

I closed my mouth in the morning and laid down on the ground during the day and night.

Sleepless days. I couldn’t escape the memories that replayed over and over again.

One night, as I was looking back on my life and regretting every detail, I heard a voice coming from the upper left corner of my head. Just a single “Good.”

The two looked at each other and smiled.

It was a strange feeling of empathy with each other.

Ah, that’s right. Someday, when the time was right, I can tell others about this day. When the truth dwells in Minato’s words.

When Masa-san finished, he grinned.

This was a secret between master and disciple.

“Good.”

The sixth voice was heard.

With three scales, arrows of light descended from the heavens and pierced through Minato’s body. His whole body went numb and his head became hazy.

The sounds came again.

When he decided to “come,” the arrows passed through his body and spread from the soles of his feet to the ground.

Meigen. That was the sound of the dawn.

Three sounds and arrows of light fell from the sky.

The arrows of light pierced my body.

The ultimate goal of kyudo was “the true, the good, and the beautiful.” True archery didn’t lie, deceive, or betray.

Truth in archery was proven by the brilliance of the bow, the tsurune, and hitting the target. What was true was beautiful, and what was good was also beautiful. Once you met the genuine article, you would never be confused again.

Hayake—Yips was a state in which the body became warped due to accumulated fatigue and stress, and the brain ends up malfunctioning. That was why beginners didn’t get target panic. It occurred when the brain remembered the experience of failure so strongly that it issued an emergency alert every time those memories replayed. This became a regular occurrence, and if proper treatment wasn’t taken, it would only get worse. In archery, hayake was called “target panic,” and it was an accurate description of this sickness.

The solution was to regulate one’s breathing. It was to get rid of the distortions in one’s body and allow the brain and body to rest.

There were actually very few people who could maintain a natural and comfortable posture. Regulating the autonomic nervous system and improving the functioning of the central nervous system was the key to good health. The autonomic nervous system referred to the nerves that were responsible for unconscious processes such as pulse, breathing, and digestion. The sympathetic nervous system was dominant during the day, and the parasympathetic nervous system was dominant when sleeping at night. The central nervous system were the nerves that acted like a command center, issuing commands to various parts of the body.

Anxiety and fear were a kind of self-protective instinct. Once living things experienced something scary or painful, they tried to avoid it next time. When it was overreacted to, they became stuck in the memories of the past, worried about the future, and unable to take even a step forward.

When you drove a car, you got too scared to drive if you thought about what would happen if you caused an accident. You made sure you were in good physical condition and inspected your vehicle before driving. Even so, if you caused an accident, you would have to pay for it for the rest of your life. If you were willing to accept all of that, everything else would become possible.

Cars run on gasoline or electricity, but what did the human body need to move? Oxygen. Oxygen produced heat. “Breathing” was an important way to obtain oxygen efficiently. Because modern people breathed with their chests, they were unaware that they were about to drown due to the lack of oxygen in their brains.

Let’s slowly take a deep breath.

You could see what you couldn’t see before.

You could touch what you couldn’t touch before.

The days I spent with you.

The days I will spend with you from now on.

Who should I thank for this happiness?

Right now, I’m breathing.

Blessed are the creatures that shed their fur.

They have rented lodgings on earth and eaten many lives.

Now, I offer a moment of silence.

The fourth shot began. The ten’s heartbeats grated.

Gradually, slowly, the surroundings were dyed in green, like vines were creeping around. This place, with its spreading leaves and blooming orange flowers, was just like the earth after humans have left.

Those who gathered in the Land of the Rising Sun. Kaito, who had just been born, let out a single cry. The roar that announced the joy of birth hit right in the middle of the target.

Ryouhei also raised his voice. What beautiful stars, what delightful companions. Now, let’s set off. Let’s row the boat. What kind of place would the new continent be? What kind of encounters await us?

Seiya followed suit. I knew you were worried about me. I was taking advantage of your kindness. Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for getting angry.

Nanao was enjoying himself, happy, and sun—. The place I belong is where I draw my bow. I want it, I want it, I want it. But it didn’t come true. I got an abode that I should have given up sometime ago. Someone whispered to me that it’s okay to stay here, that there’s no need to leave so quickly. When he blew a whistle, the matooto resounded at the azuchi.

Minato was standing on the earth.

We are temporary residents who are renting a part of the earth.

His memory flew back to a few weeks ago, to something Saionji had said with blooming azaleas behind him.

“Narumiya-kun, please try to explain the ‘Heart Sutra’ to me.”

“Yes. The universe is emptiness. If you think something exists, it exists. If you don’t think it exists, it doesn’t exist. You can see it if you try to see it, and you can’t see it if you don’t try. It’s dyed in every color, and it’s not dyed in any color. The mind is emptiness. The mind is the body, and the body is the mind. Although they are considered different things, they used to be one and the same. The ‘box’ that is me contains all the necessary software. Now, recite the password called an incantation and open the box. The box will then start up normally.”

“That’s a bold interpretation. It’s very interesting. Continuing studying in that vein.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s not about right or wrong, it’s about how you feel. That is the answer of the current you. Religion was originally meant to be a guidebook to help you live a better life.”

The mind and body were the same person.

The heart was responsible for pumping blood, the stomach was responsible for digesting food, and the brain was responsible for thinking. All were functions of internal organs, and each had a role. It was just that the roles were divided, and it didn’t mean that the brain was the best and the others weren’t. Confusion arose because only the brain was viewed as special.

Humans tended to rely on vision when obtaining information, and were creatures who liked to take things apart before observing them. However, if you were too short-sighted, you would lose sight of the true essence. If you take a step back, you could see the whole thing. Man and woman, good and evil, the surface and below, real and imaginary numbers, joy and anger, sadness and healing, health and illness, life and death, meetings and partings. Dualism was just one classification method, and the classification depended on the time and situation.

The two couldn’t be separated. They were intertwined from the start.

They were one from the beginning.

A spell was a mysterious word that went beyond human comprehension. Although words could be shown to have special power, the basis for the current phenomenon couldn’t be explained. Because it was “power beyond human understanding,” it was difficult for ordinary people to understand, much less put into words. Just because you couldn’t see, hear, or quantify it doesn’t mean that it “didn’t exist.” It was only latent, not yet manifested.

A text that had been simplified by an expert in the field by only extracting the important points was, on the contrary, even more difficult for beginners to understand. Rewording the text into concrete episodes, in other words, accumulating stories, helps to deepen understanding. Stories were the perfect tool to convey something. It was hoped that someday, someone would explain it in an easy-to-understand text.

Minato and Asahina’s arrows pierced their targets.

Ten people. Forty perfect hits.

This was in the exact region of a hundred shots and a hundred hits.

Viewing this amazing scene, there was a standing ovation in the spectators’ seats.

Ren, who was watching in the stands, squeezed his hands. Seiya’s brother Gaku hugged himself.

“It looks cold. How long will this continue?”

“…I hope it doesn’t end like this.”

No winner was decided, so it became a shoot-out. Each archer released a shot, and the school with the most hits won. If it couldn’t be determined in one round, it was repeated until the ranking was decided.

The oomae had begun to raise their bows.

Roaring bows. Arrows that cut through the wind. Summoning thunderclouds, colorful dragons swam through the archery range.

Dizzingly clear paths of light bounce, dance, and splashed. Legendary creatures ran to the end without turning around or stopping. The “insect” contained in the kanji for “wind” and “rainbow” meant dragon, and although they were feared as gods in the East and monsters in the West, they weren’t influenced by human expectations. Each went their own way. Their colors and speeds were different, but they all arrived at one place—somewhere bright.

Once more, everyone hit.

The people watching the ten, who never missed, felt a thirst in their throats. What were they witnessing? Did something like this truly exist? Were they becoming witnesses to history?

Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato faced the target.

The five melted into one and returned to that day. They were hearing Greensleeves.

Minato was talking to his mother in a dream.

“This song is about the moment when a disciple told their master the answer to a problem, right? I think the moment the master heard this, they smiled with joy.”

Greensleeves was a “Song of Naru.”

After completing his trials, the boy became an adult.

It was a rite of passage, an initiation.

Farewells and encounters were one and the same. On the winter solstice, the sun died and was reborn. Rather than having two sides, rather than being parallel, it was a chaotic thing that blended and mixed together. Today was like yesterday, and tomorrow was like today. Time didn’t exist there.

“Goodbye” was a magic word. It was devised from the beginning.

The sound of knocking on the door. A ringing sound.

Yearning, chasing, wishing.

Cowering, struggling, being doubted, despised.

Raging, despairing, cursing.

When you repent, mourn, accept death…

And give up.

Bow your head, love, and forgive. The door finally opens.

With a “welcome.”

Love meant forgiving yourself and others.

Could you embrace the person in front of you who you hated so much that you wanted to kill?

Those who cleared this final task were called “adults (saints)”. (3)

Admiration for the opposite sex and affection between parents and children were biological desires based on the perpetuation of descendants, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to love someone who had been kind to you. True friendship was rare and beautiful. Those who walked on the same path, master and disciple and friends. The two would be on a journey that would never end. The only difference was whether one went first or went later.

Even if one, two, three, or even four people finished, the match wasn’t decided.

The fifth, Asahina and Minato, began to raise their bows. They opened their chests wide and stretched their limbs in all directions. Two crosses emerged in the shajo dyed by the sunset. The boys flew into the sky. Migratory birds passed between the clouds, rivers meandering across the land, and cows grazing. A dragonfly rested its wings on the tip of an ear of wheat and flew away, seemingly uninterested in human activity.

A beautiful bow with a length unparalleled in the world. That was a divine implement. The sacred instrument inherited by archers chose its user. It looked for those with clear, unclouded eyes. The sun was a form of unconditional love. An existence that shined on everyone, both good or bad, without distinction. The Japanese called that star Amaterasu Oomikami.

When Minato’s arrow was sucked into its target, Asahina gently brought down his bow.

It was at that moment that Kazemai High School’s victory was decided.

Exclamations and screams arose at the long battle. The applause and cheers were deafening. In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, Seo, and Gaku were crying.

Kaito and Eddie, Ryouhei and Matsuda, Seiya and Kanuma, Nanao and Igarashi, and Minato and Asahina bumped gloves.

Asahina laughed. “That was so much fun. Let’s do it again.”

“Yeah, I had fun too.”

After they finished leaving the shajo, the first years Kanbayashi and Himuro ran up to them, and the members of Kazemai High School’s kyudo club hugged each other’s shoulders.

Minato and Kaito were screaming.

“Woooooooo!”

“Yeaaaaaah!”

“You don’t have to do your yagoe here. You’re hurting my ears,” Seiya chided them, but made no move to remove their hands from his shoulders. Ryouhei put his weight on them, causing the seven to lose their balance and collapse to the ground.

Nanao’s eyes were wet with emotion. It was not a little frustrating for him to be left out of the lineup in the preliminaries. He didn’t want to admit that he was frustrated, not wanting to show such an uncool part of himself, and unconsciously tried to keep up appearances. The other members all noticed this. They had the same feelings. Kaito, Seiya, Minato, Ryouhei, and even Himuro and Kanbayashi patted Nanao on the head. Nanao did the same thing back to them. Tommy-sensei watched the seven boys with a smile as they seemed to return to their childhood. Masa-san picked Nanao up and walked around with him. “Pick me up too!” Ryouhei badgered him.

The appearance of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club was deeply etched into people’s memories.

After the awards ceremony, Kazemai prepared to go home. The support group that brought the cars walked ahead, followed by the club members. The championship cup was held by the president, Seiya.

The feeling of elation couldn’t be contained. The scenery they usually saw was more color saturated and lacked a sense of reality. On the stage of the finals, all five of them achieved six shots without missing. This was exactly a dream came true.

As they were leaving the kyudojo, the Kirisaki members came to congratulate them. The Young Prince’s eyes were more melancholic than usual.

Ryouhei put his arms around Kaito and Nanao’s shoulders.

“Ah, I’m still excited. I feel like running.”

“Alright, let’s run home.”

“You guys are gonna get wiped out if you do that,” Kaito said, but he couldn’t remain still either and started walking faster.

Minato, Kanbayashi, and Himuro formed the tail end of the group. After the match, they walked slowly from exhaustion.

“I’ve been inspired. I’m going to become an archer like Narumiya-senpai.”

“You’re making too much of me. I’m not even close to Masa-san or Shuu.”

“All three of you are amazing.”

Himuro nodded wordlessly.

“Kyah, I’m sorry!”

Someone appeared, interrupting Minato and the others’ conversation. A girl passing by bumped into him when he wasn’t looking, it seemed. The contents of the plastic bottle she was holding spilled onto Minato, and he wiped the liquid with his sleeve.

“Your collar got soaked. Do you want to change?”

“Some of it got into my mouth, but it seems to be just water. It’ll dry right away.”

By the time they finished loading their bags into the car, Minato felt sluggish. He felt nauseous, and his whole body was itching. When he looked at the inside of his arm, he saw that a rash had broken out.

“What’s wrong with me? I feel itchy, and kinda sick…”

“Your neck is turning red! Should I call Takehaya-senpai? He might have some medicine.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I’ll wait until we get back.”

But soon, Minato was crouching down in a corner of the parking lot. Seiya, noticing that Minato and the others were acting strange, rushed over. Minato was clutching his throat as he crouched.

“What’s wrong, Minato!?”

“…I don’t know, but I feel sick and lightheaded.”

“Could it be heatstroke? Do you have a fever? How’s your stomach?”

“It’s hard to breathe…my throat…”

His voice was raspy and his breathes came in short gasps. Nanao rubbed Minato’s back, and the other members formed a human barricade to guard him. From Seiya’s perspective, he was experiencing system symptoms such as nausea, sweating, dizziness, rashes, and shivering. What was going on?

Seiya’s brother Gaku, who had gotten into the car earlier, also ran over and put his nose on the back of Minato’s neck.

“Seiya, wait. It’s really faint, but he smells different than usual. …It’s an unpleasant smell. What is this, ginkgo fruit?”

Seiya and Ryouhei looked at each other.

“Minato’s allergic to ginkgo!”

“That’s right. A long time ago, when our families went to pick ginkgo fruits, we were shocked when Minato got a rash even though he never touched them with his bare hands.”

“But there aren’t any ginkgo fruits this time of year,” Gaku murmured. “Are these symptoms of anaphylactic shock?”

Seiya’s expression froze.

Anaphylactic shock was a condition in which an allergic reaction to food or other allergens caused a drop in blood pressure and deterioration of consciousness.

Masa-san pushed through the human barricade and went to Minato. He was lying limp in the laps of Kanbayashi and Himuro. His face was chalk white.

“Sorry about this, Minato.”

Masa-san suddenly lifted up Minato’s hakama and pushed something that looked like a thick pen into his thigh. There was a click sound. Seiya widened his eyes, and Kanbayashi blinked rapidly.

“It’s a self-injection of adrenaline. I’m allergic to wasp poison, so I carry it around with me.”

Gaku got out his phone. “Coach Takigawa, thank goodness. Don’t worry, I’ll get him to the hospital right away.”

The injection seemed to have worked, and after a while Minato was able to sit up on his own. His breathing had settled down, and it seemed that his life was no longer in danger. Minato was escorted to the hospital by the Takehaya brothers.

Afterwards, the dashcam in one of the parents’ cars parked in the parking lot showed the girl who was holding the bottle. Despite repeated appeals that the water in the bottle was suspicious, the case was shelved without much investigation, as it was assumed that Minato had just accidentally ingested food that he was allergic to.

Seiya had a pained expression on his face.

“I know someone whose hobbies include hacking into surveillance camera data and using AI to analyze internet articles. The girl from the dashcam is a Kuon devotee. We also confirmed contact between a detective and a Kuon family servant. Apparently, the detective got their hands on ginkgo fruits from a university lab. It seems like there are all sorts of people at Kuon’s house.”

“Why Minato?” Ryouhei asked.

“It’s probably jealousy. The Young Prince only has one brother disciple. No one can take Minato’s place.”

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo stamped on the ground in frustration.

“I can’t believe we can’t do anything even though we know that much.”

“It’s frustrating.”

“Yeah, I feel you. But wouldn’t it also be bad if the hacking is discovered?”

Masa-san, who had been listening silently until then, rubbed his cheek.

“We have to punish him hard for this.”

Kuon was spending the weekend at the villa.

“Has that woman’s identity been exposed? How useless. Hmm, no need to bother with a orthopedic surgeon’s son and a bunch of commoners.”

His phone rang, and the screen displayed a certain person’s name.

It was Fujiwara Shuu.

“Kuon Takumi, will you apologize to Minato?”

Perhaps it was because he was calling from somewhere far away, but there was so much noise in the background that it was hard to hear.

“What are you talking about? I’m on vacation right now. Do you mind if I ask you to refrain from calling?”

“He’s heading your way right now. I’m not going to be able to stop him.”

“He?”

Asahina and Eddie had pinpointed Kuon’s location. He was in a richly decorated mansion deep in the mountains. The heavy doors opened.

Masa-san leisurely walked from the central entrance to the front stairwell. A female servant of the mansion, suspicious of the smiling, cheerfully walking stranger, called out to him.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you a guest?”

“Hey there, young lady. I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot let you through to the next room.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m very close to Takumi-kun.”

Masa-san smiled softly, and the servant felt cold air blowing on the back of her neck. Contrary to his words, his quiet anger was something that couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard he tried.

The woman screamed. “Takumi-sama, there’s a suspicious person here! Somebody help!”

Kuon sensed the man’s impending presence and hurried outside.

Masa-san got behind the men guarding Kuon and slammed his fist into the back of his liver. He dodged another man’s kick, and when he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, Masa-san jumped over the stair railing.

All the while, Kuon was running at full speed. His pursuer closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and Kuon, panicking, tripped on the grass and fell. Despite this, he still crawled on the ground, trying to escape, but couldn’t move forward.

Masa-san grabbed Kuon by the nape of his neck.

“Swear that you’ll never lay a finger on Kazemai’s students again.”

“O-Okay. I swear, so let me go first.”

When Masa-san loosened his grip, Kuon raised himself up and faced him directly. Immediately after, he saw the shadow of a muscular man behind Masa-san. Masa-san punched him in the face without looking back.

Kuon clutched at the soil.

“Who the hell are you!? There’s no way an ordinary person can do that!”

“I’m sure you know that I’m Kazemai’s coach. A long time ago, I learned self-defense. You don’t seem to realize what you’ve done.”

“Isn’t it just a little bit of itchiness? A long time ago, I had a classmate who got itchy after eating eggs, but it cleared up after a week. Isn’t this just a child’s adorable prank?”

“Don’t tell me that you’ve done the same thing in the past? Allergies can be life-threatening if you don’t take care of them properly. What you did was equivalent to poisoning him. Lately, I haven’t been able to control myself…whatever will I do?”

Masa-san put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket. He took out a permanent marker, and after removing the cap, he placed the tip of the pen on Kuon’s cheek.

Approximately ten seconds later, Kuon’s face was covered with the same pattern as the one on the powder container Masa-san had received from his master. Yes, depending on how you looked at it, it looked like a bikini.

The look in Kuon’s eyes changed when he saw Masa-san turn on his phone.

“No way, you’re going to take a photo?”

“A souvenir. I borrowed the pen from Kazemai’s president, and it turned out to be a very tasteful picture, if I do say so myself.”

“You lowly citizen! I’ll call Father!”

“As you requested, I’ve already called him. ‘My foolish son has wronged your friend. Please scold him on my behalf,’ he said and invited me to this villa. Now that I’ve taken some pictures, I think I’ll send them to the Kirisaki twins.”

“Father would never… S-Stop it! Doesn’t Buddhism tell you to not take revenge even when something is done to you? Your real job is being a monk, isn’t it?”

“Everyone keeps calling me a monk, monk, monk. I’m not a monk, I’m a priest!”

As Masa-san’s finger was about to slide across his phone’s screen, the wind created by a helicopter made the leaves and branches of the mountains shake. It was a tremendous amount of dust. When he looked up, the door of the low-flying aircraft opened.

Shuu jumped down. His pale eyelashes were swaying.

“Kuon, if you’re going to use the power of your family, I won’t hesitate to borrow the power of my family as well. Have you forgotten my name?”

“…Fujiwara-senpai.”

Minato also peeked out from the helicopter.

“Masa-san, stop! Don’t do anything more than that! I haven’t learned pro wrestling yet.”

“Good grief, my disciples are always too soft!”

Masa-san and Shuu stood in front of Kuon, who bowed his head in resignation.

Young leaves danced in the sky.

Members of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club gathered at the Yata no Mori Kyudojo.

A fleeting time of overnight practice. The warm sunlight that poured down upon them made them sleepy.

“Oh, what happened to the boys?” Tommy-sensei asked Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo.

“They went to see the dormouse.”

Masa-san pressed his hand to his forehead. “They got too much power, don’t they? Let’s get started on dinner.”

“Yes.”

Minato and his friends were in the forest. They were standing in front of an old mountain hut.

Nanao pointed to the door of the hut.

“At dawn, I volunteered to go look for Miyama stag beetles. Then, I saw it there.”

“Wow, that early morning walk was all about collecting bugs? I’m glad I didn’t go,” Ryouhei said, patting his chest.

Minato asked him to let him sit on his shoulders and peered through the gaps in the tobukuro.* It was a nostalgic scene for Seiya, who was watching them from the side as he waited for his turn to sit on Ryouhei’s shoulders.

“You guys are way too big to do little kid stuff like this,” Kaito said to Seiya.

“You don’t have to look, Kaito.”

“…I guess it’s fine to take just one look.”

Keyaki and Kanbayashi were searching around for new discoveries, and Himuro was listening to the voice of the forest’s master.

The mountains were shining.

The mountains were singing.

By the time the owl woke up from its sleep, Minato and the others had dinner.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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