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tloaak · 4 months

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today we lost the great Efeso Collins, during a charity event to raise funds for clean drinking water for children in the pacific. here is his incredible parliamentary maiden speech from just last week (transcript below). i encourage you to listen, and if you can, donate to childfund's water fund here

Tēnā koe, Mr Speaker. Mai i ngā hau o Ōtāhuhu-nui-a-Rangi, o Maungarei, o Motukaroa; mai i ngā awa o Hikuwaru, o Tāmaki e rere ki te Waitematā, kei te Mānukanuka-o-Hoturoa, ko Kaiwhare, ko Taramainuku kua tau, kua tau ki ngā whenua o Ngāti Toa Rangatira, o Taranaki Whānui ki Te Ūpoko o Te Ika. Tēnā anō tatou.

[From the winds of Ōtāhuhu, of Mount Wellington, of Hamlin's Hill; from the rivers of Hikuwaru, of Tāmaki flowing to the Waitematā, to the Mānukau Harbour; Kaiwhare and Taramainuku have arrived, have arrived to the lands of Ngāti Toa Rangatira, of Taranaki Whānui in the Wellington region. Greetings to us all.]

E fakatālofa atu ki te māmālu o koutou na tamāna ma na mātua, vena foki na uho ma tuafāfine kua mafai ke fakatahi i te po nei. Vikia te Atua ko tātou kua mafai ke fakatahi venei. Mālo ma fakafetai.

Fai mai ina ua teʻi ae Iakopo i le mea sa moe ai, ona ia fai ane lea, e moni lava e i ai Ieova i le mea nei. E moni lava e i ai Ieova i le mea nei. Faafetai le Atua aua e le faaitiitia lou viiga. Ua ifo i ati malie tuʻumoega o le taeao le sa tafa i vanu tafaoga o manu sisina, ae sa faalepa le au pea, sa fili ma le manoa le fetu taʻimatagi, ae sei faalaolao le puli matagi aua ua nofoia vao tutuʻi i le malumalu ma nuʻu malumau o le maota.

Ou te le fagota la i le sao aua ua uma ona fili le utu ma uu le vao fofou. Fai mai le matematega nai tumua, ua pei o se iʻa e moemauga o le atuolo, o foliga matagofie ia ma le maualuga, maualuga lava o lenei aso aisea, ae a lea ua malutaueʻe le tiʻa sa maluʻia, ua tapu lalaga foʻi le vaʻa o le Tuimanʻua mamana ua atoa laʻau i fogaʻa.

Faafetai le Atua le Tama, le Alo ma le Agaga Sa, aua sa tu i Fagalilo tapaau o le alataua, ae sa matemate foʻi aiga sa Tagaloa pe tua ma ni a lenei aso. Ae faafetai i le Atua, aua ua tepa i ula, tagaʻi i ula, foʻi atu lou viiga e faavavau. Faafetai i le tapuaʻiga a oʻu matua ma oʻu aiga, faafetai tele i matua o si oʻu toʻalua ma ona aiga, i le latou lagolago aemaise talosaga molia. Faafetai i uo ma e masani, aemaise o le paʻia o le aufaigaluega totofi a le Atua, i soʻo se fata faitaulaga—Faafetai tatalo. Ae faapitoaugafa saʻu faafetai i si oʻu toalua Finevasa Fia aemaise si aʻu fanau pele Tapuiela ma Asalemo faafetai tatalo, malo le onosaʻi. Ae tapuaʻi maia ma le manuia.

Mr Speaker, it is an indescribable feeling to stand up and address this House. As a son of Samoan immigrants who made the mighty Ōtara 274—Southside hard—their home, I am well aware of the giants whose shoulders I stand on and the masters whose feet I learnt at. The courage, foresight, entrepreneurial spirit, and hope of our ancestors who journeyed thousands of years ago through the vast waters of Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa brings me here today.

My parents arrived in New Zealand in the early 1960s, told that this was the land of milk and honey. Dad started off as a taxi driver with South Auckland Taxis, and mum on the factory floor at New Zealand Forest Products in Penrose. We lived in a four-bedroom State house on Preston Road in Ōtara, and I attended local schools: East Tāmaki Primary, Ferguson Intermediate, and the great Tangaroa College. We're forever grateful for the State house that was our home for around 20 years, and the quality public education we received from our local State schools.

I did try my hand for a short period at a decile 10 school outside of Ōtara, but that experiment lasted only two weeks. It was during the time in the late 1980s, when families from poorer areas were being discouraged from going to local schools because they weren't considered up to scratch. I'm glad we changed course and decided to high school it in Ōtara, where the motto of our school was "Waiho i te tokā tu Moana"—"Steadfast like a rock in the sea".

Later, at university, I went on to write my Master's dissertation on brown flight, critiquing the Picot reforms that have wreaked havoc on our public schooling system. That period was also a challenging time for my family because we were being told by our teachers to stop speaking Samoan at home and only to speak English. My parents didn't want us to fail at school, so we were allowed to speak English at home and over time we stopped speaking Samoan altogether. In the end, I lost my language. I struggled, I was embarrassed, and I felt incomplete. Even speaking to you in Samoan this evening gives me major tremors.

There's a saying in Samoan: "E le tu fa'amauga se tagata"—no one stands alone, no one succeeds alone—and, for me, no one suffers alone. Over the past years, with the support of my family and friends, I've taken to trying to converse again in Samoan, reading more texts in Samoan, praying in Samoan, and sending our youngest to a local Samoan early childhood centre. Our beautiful language, Gagana Samoa, has returned to our home and is helping to overcome the inadequacy that had taken root in my soul.

As I speak this evening, I'm mindful of the many young people who are navigating these at times treacherous and unsettled waters in life, filled with so much potential, energy, and hope, yet too often misunderstood. In my time as a youth worker in South Auckland, I've spoken with hundreds of young people with massive dreams for the future. We need youth workers, we need social workers, and we need mentors to walk alongside our young people, and, yes, we want our youth to be responsible and caring and considerate. So it's our job in this House to resource the people and organisations who will model the behaviour to them that we expect, but who also won't give up on them and won't come with a saviour mentality.

Many of our societal challenges are driven by poverty. We can achieve greater social cohesion and lift our sense of belonging by addressing poverty. I've been honoured to run youth mentoring programmes for nearly 25 years—that's about how old I am—and to this day I mentor young people. When we undertook and published research on youth gangs some years ago, the youth we spoke to had the solutions and just needed the means to make it happen. Too many of our young people are filling our prisons, and it is wasted human potential. Give them the tools, the resources, and the means to make a meaningful contribution to the world, and they will. I was at a conference recently about the threats to democracy and an attendee spoke about their work in developing nations and used the familiar retort, "You can't eat democracy." And I couldn't agree more. This House, this centre of democracy, needs to do more to engage our people, all of our people, so that they can see this House is not just relevant but an essential part of their lives.

The greatest challenge facing our generation is climate change. The Pacific Islands nations are among the most vulnerable to climate change in the world. The world's continued reliance on fossil fuels, loss of coral reefs, rising sea levels, and increasing severe weather patterns means that our extended whānau in the Pacific are in immediate danger. We, as a collective, must do all we can to do as we say out south "flip the script". Truth is, those who've done the least to create this predicament are being the hardest hit. Our challenges, whether ecological, geopolitical, or cultural, are diverse, but we're bonded by the inextricable ties we have to our lands and our oceans. We've inherited philosophies, knowledge systems, and profound ecological wisdom that holds the answers and drives our collective resilience—from West Papua to Hawai'i. Our fight for a climate resilient, nuclear-free and independent Pacific remains as strong as ever. We are not drowning; we are fighting.

I haven't come to Parliament to learn—learning happens as a matter of course through reflection. I've come to this House to help. Helping is a deliberate act. I'm here to help this Government govern for all of New Zealand, and I'm here to open the door, enabling our communities to connect better with this House. During the election campaign, I spoke to people frustrated about their lot in life, scared for their and their children's futures, and feeling their dreams were slipping away. The people I spoke to expect the Government to do more and move faster. And I know that there are some in this House who believe Government is not the answer to these challenges and that less Government is better. But here's the thing: the Government cannot be a bystander to people suffering confusion and disenfranchisement. New Zealand must close the divide between those who have and those who have not, because the reality for my community is that those who have more money often wield more power, more health, more housing, more justice, more access, more canopy cover, more lobbyists with swipe cards, and more time. And the opposite is true for those who have fewer resources.

It's hard to be poor, it's expensive to be poor, and moreover, public discourse is making it socially unacceptable to be poor. Whether it's bashing on beneficiaries, dragging our feet towards a living wage, throwing shade on school breakfast programmes, or restricting people's ability to collectively bargain for fairer working conditions, we must do better to lift aspirations and the lived realities of all our people. To that end, I want to say to this House with complete surety that the neoliberal experiment of the 1980s has failed. The economics of creating unemployment to manage inflation is farcical when domestic inflation in New Zealand has been driven by big corporates making excessive profits. It's time to draw a line in the sand, and alongside my colleagues here in Te Pāti Kākāriki, we've come as the pallbearers of neoliberalism, to bury these shallow, insufferable ideas once and for all. And this, sir, is our act of love.

Paolo Freire, in his seminal work Pedagogy of the Oppressed, said love is an act of courage, not fear; love is a commitment to others. No matter where the oppressed are found, the act of love is a commitment to their cause, the cause of liberation. The most recent election campaign left many in our Māori communities bruised and targeted for the perceived privileges supposedly bestowed upon them. Shared governance is a rich concept about how we include those who've been excluded for far too long in the work of this House and the democratic institutions that are fundamental to our collective wellbeing. We are Tangata Tiriti and we have nothing to fear. As a New Zealand-born Samoan living in South Auckland, I've experienced, written about, and spoken about racism in this country. I've also been on a well-publicised journey in understanding the needs and views of our rainbow communities, and I have a long way to go. And my message to whānau who often experience the sharp end of discrimination—disabled, ethnic, rainbow, brown, seniors, and neurodiverse—is thank you for trusting us with the responsibility of facilitating a new discussion on how we move forward together and make possible what was once deemed impossible.

The American civil rights activist James Baldwin said, "Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced." We commit to working across this House as a nation and with each other irrespective of our post code, income bracket, skin colour, or level of qualification attained. But, in order for that work, we must come with humility, the desire to listen, and dare I say it, maybe speaking last. If I was to inspire anyone by getting to this House and my work over the next three years, I hope that it's the square pegs, the misfits, the forgotten, the unloved, the invisible—it's the dreamers who want more, expect more, are impatient for change, and have this uncanny ability to stretch us further.

#nzpol #the speech is only about 16 minutes #the last 10m are downtime between speeches #Vimeo #Youtube

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

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I just discovered your posts about AEIWAM and I'm already in love. I've loved Unohana for years and your post talking about her backstory in your fic is just.... /chef's kiss. (also I had no idea non-ADHD people don't get the euphoria of meeting someone who Gets It, this explains a lot). I'm so excited by everything I've seen so far!

Cool because I added a lot more because I thought Unohana needed a Terrible Science Buddy and also Minazuki would be cool if it was a one of a pair of swords that are medications on how healing requires both creation and destruction- Minazuki's ray form heals by creating- she can replenish lost blood or grow new bones and tissues, but she can't destroy an infectious pathogen or pull out shrapnel. Minazuki's other form is... well, it's blood that digests an opponent if they don't dodge good enough. I think that Unohana actually needs to use both forms for them to work- the material consumed/destroyed by the blood form is where Minazuki gets the raw materials and energy for the healing ray form.

So I made up Sakukoji, her sister sword whose ray form destroys foreign and alien bodie within the body of a patient or remove excesses produced by the body, like cancer or excess calcification, but can't replace lost blood or close wounds like minazuki can. Sakukoji's second form looks more like an enormous fungal body that can change and add to the form of any living thing it touches. Sakukoji needs her second form to release all the toxins and excess matter she's built up.

The sisters are yin and yang to each other, each a force of creation or destruction, but with an element of the other as well, and both ultimately in service of the third force- preservation.

Sakukoji's weirlder is Tama Nikyu, a victim of an extremely aggravated act of plagarism. Here's an illustration of their froms:

(please embiggen for details)

I made Minazuki look a bit more like a Short-tailed River Stingray because they're awesome, and Sakukoji looks like a filter-feeding manta because she kind of is.

Also. Gooey :)

#Retsu Unohana #yachiru unohana #Bleach #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Minazuki #Sakukoji #MAD PROPS to my friend Zaeze who figured out another double-meaning kanji set that matched the theme i was going for #also for like #being my assistant loremaster for the fic

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the-colors-of-tokyo · 3 months

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Lunch Break at the Park.

Tamagawadaikouen.

Small Town Tokyo: Tamagawa

#original photographers #photographers on tumblr #tokyo life #tokyo #japan #tamagawadaikouen #small town tokyo #tamagawa #denenchofu #tama river #nature in tokyo #urban nature #urban life #urban landscape

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zzeraphilm · 9 hours

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his hidden notebook

akaashi keiji x f!reader summary: akaashi keiji found that writing poetry was the best way to express his desires word count: 1,573

Akaashi found himself writing more poems in his free time, away from practice and away from Bokuto. Somehow, his muse was always Y/N. When he saw the fluttering, falling flower petals that dance in the wind, he’d think of her. When he saw the ripples of the Tama river make a kaleidoscope of rainbow shades, he’d think of her. When he saw the luscious greenery bloom from a night of rain, he’d think of her.

Scribbles from spare scraps of paper turned to neatly written notebooks full of dancing words. He kept this side of himself far from the world around him. It was a precious solitude that allowed him to see visions of beauty that was sacred to only him. His notebook of poems was holy and for others to read it would be disastrous.

Y/N knew of Akaashi from her friends, the only boy who could keep up with the boisterous Bokuto from the volleyball team. Whilst being in the same class, she doesn’t remember speaking to him once. She had spoken to Bokuto numerous times as he was the shining sun of their class. But Akaashi was another name on the class register for Y/N.

Presumably, they didn’t share any interests. With Akaashi being on the volleyball team and Y/N being a part of the music club with her own band. The two would always be on two separate sides of the classroom, the school and in the world. It was until one afternoon during band practice, she peered out of the window of the music room on the second floor. She saw Akaashi look up to meet her glares from across the courtyard. Sure, the windows were wide open and anyone and everyone can hear their latest melody. But Akaashi wasn’t focusing on the music, rather he had zeroed in on Y/N.

He was entranced by her power and command with the rest of her band members. He saw the sun shine a dazzling spotlight onto her through the curtains, as if she was on stage performing to millions.

Akaashi knew of Y/N’s talent, they were his muse after all. There were many nights where he would fantasise a time between Y/N and him, where she would lull him to sleep with her soft voice, singing to only him.

Akaashi had found the perfect spot to gaze upon Y/N’s performances, a few paces to the left of the second bush on the far left corner of the courtyard. At exactly 4:35PM on a Wednesday afternoon without fail, Y/N would begin her vocal exercises before her bandmates could join her. She always left the windows open, either for fresh air or to have the whole world stand still to her voice. These Wednesday memories would fuel Akaashi’s mind full of imagery solely of her. He couldn’t wait to find any spare parchment to scribble his ideas down, he was drunk with imagination because of his muse.

Y/N found his presence, unnerving. He didn’t smile nor showed any interest when they locked eyes on each other. But Akaashi did not move away or break contact, rather he remained still.

“What you looking at?” She shouted, leaning out of the window.

Akaashi gave a slight smile, his lips moved to reply but he was so far that Y/N could not understand.

“Huh?" She yelled. "Dude, you’re a bit of a weirdo aren’t you?” Y/N laughed him off, shut the window and walked back to the music room, disappearing from Akaashi’s line of sight.

“Yeah, and he was just like there! I swear, he’s spying on me! Everywhere I look he’s there, I’ve never even spoken to the guy, like who is he?” Sat in a circle around her desk, her friends continued to whisper the latest gossip of their weeks. Y/N had brought up her encounter with Akaashi in passing whilst she ate her lunch, but after demands from the others, she caved and spoke her suspicions.

She didn’t hate him per say, rather she was alarmed by the ‘coincidences’ of their encounters, she hadn’t realised it before but he was always within her peripheral vision. At each turn, he’d be there in passing or to the side.

“Ah! Do you think he likes you Y/N?” The girl to the left of Y/N teased, leaning closer into the circle, since the topic of the conversation was still sat in the same classroom as them during their break.

“Don’t go jumping to conclusions.” With a final sip of her cartoned juice, Y/N squashed the cardboard box in her fist. “For all we know, he could be a stalker.”

Poor Akaashi could feel the stares from the group of girls from the back of the classroom. Hunched over on his desk, he crossed out the latest stanza he wrote this morning till the paper ripped.

Was he a stalker? He didn’t mean to come across this way. Maybe he should clear the air with her.

He stood up abruptly, the crowd of students around Y/N flipped their heads around to face him, eyes bulging from their skulls. As if they had seen a ghost. Akaashi awkwardly walked up to them, he felt his stomach sink further and further towards the floor with each step. Before he could get face to face to his muse, Bokuto slammed the door wide open calling for him. Dragging him out the room before he could object. Akaashi was torn between feeling relieved for escaping a possible social suicide in front of his classmates or disappointed in his cowardice.

Once he was far from view, the group of gossiping students collided together again and their whispers got louder and louder till some where squealing and cackling. Y/N kept looking at the now closed door, he looked so sad, she thought. His eyes didn’t seem to belong to a stalker, but there was a lingering shadow of loneliness behind his long eyelashes.

It wasn’t until the late evening Y/N found Akaashi after leaving the gym, he was so focused on scribbling in his little pocketbook that he missed the last two steps out of the gym, causing him to tumble and the scrap pieces of paper tucked in the pages of his pocketbook flew into the sky, like confetti falling delicately across the ground. Whilst the awkward situation, Y/N rushed to help him, picking up a crumpled up sheet of paper, her eyes briefly caught a few words on the page. Before Akaashi could stop her, she had already read the entire poem.

“Woah…this is…good.”

Akaashi ripped the page from her hand, a slight shake in his nimble fingers. “Don’t mock me.” He continued to pick up the rest of the pages and slot them back into his pocket book, digging his fingers into the wood of the cover.

“What’s with the hostility bro?”

“Earlier, you spoke about me as if I wasn’t there. I’m not some stalker, I’m not a creep.” Despite the thousands of beautiful poems he has written for nearly two years now, he couldn’t think of a single word to describe how he actually felt.

“Yeah, that’s totally what a weirdo would say.” Y/N teased. “Sorry, I know you mean no harm. It is strange though, watching me from a far all the time. Would rather you come up and talk to me y’know?” There it was, another dazzling smile. Unlike the past, Akaashi can see it mere inches away from him rather than metres.

“Honestly, Akaashi the way you write its like some of my favourite songs. Poems are basically songs anyways, they’re lyrics waiting for a melody. The rhythm and cadence of each line you wrote there, it was like you were cradling all of your emotions with every word you scribed. Some writers can’t even get their point across, let alone the emotions you pour into yours. You’re incredible.”

Y/N slipped out a piece of paper that was poking out of his pocketbook, and began to read them aloud.

‘We dance like daisies, bare in the meadows we lay. A little heaven’ ‘You stand tall, bright, fair caressed by the stars above. Grace me with your smile’

“Akaashi, these are beautiful. I’m not mocking you this time. I could even use some of your stuff for the band! I mean it’s not 100% our style but we can work together on it!”

“That won’t be possible. I can’t have you sing these words.”

Y/N tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed and with a slight giggled queried a soft ‘Why?’

With a deep breath, he grabbed the end of her question with an iron grip.

“Because they’re about you. All of them. I write them, whenever I see you sing, when you walk down the halls or when you daze off into space during English class. I catch images of you in my mind from moments where you’re always out of reach, where you bless others with your shining aura. Y/N, you’ve been my muse for all of my work.”

Y/N felt the rush of blood to her cheeks, bright red, she could feel the heat radiating from her face. A slight quivering lip and darting eyes, trying not to focus on Akashi’s stare. A tiny smile creeped its way to her mouth, she couldn’t help but feel so enamoured.

#haikyuu #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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the-cricket-chirps · 10 months

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Kawase Hasui

Bamboo Forest, Tama River

1952

#kawase hasui #japanese woodblock #woodblock artist #woodblock art #woodblock print #woodblocks #woodcut #japanese art #japan #japanese print #japan beauty #japanese artist #japanese beauty #japanese prints #japanese #art history #modern art #asian art

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talonabraxas · 3 months

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Shiva Nataraja ॐ

Symbolism of Nataraja Nataraja as a symbol is a marvelous invention combining Shiva’s role as creator, preserver, and destroyer in a single image. Each of the elements in the image has a unique meaning to it.

The Damaru Shiva holds in his upper right hand is said to make the first sound of creation, the heartbeat of the universe, the Maya, the divine fire (Agni) on the upper left hand signifies the holocaust, with his lower right hand he makes Abhayamudra; the gesture that calms all the fear and the left-hand makes the gesture of Gaja hasta, the symbol of salvation and liberation.

Nataraja - Cosmic Dance His right foot stamps on the dwarf figure, Apasmara Purusha, represent illusion and ignorance, leading humanity away from the truth. The matted hair spread during the dance. His energy and wilderness disperse; his lock contains a skull, a datura blossom, and a crescent moon depicting that Shiva is always present though he is invisible.

Ganga, the holy river, resides in his hair, which signifies creation and destruction. The two eyes portray the sun and the moon, and the third eye defines knowledge and insights. Together they symbolize an equilibrium of three Gunas- Sattva, Rajas, and Tamas.

In his Nataraja form, Shiva dances within a flaming halo (Prabha Mandala) that symbolizes time and is presented in a circle as it is cyclical and never-ending. Though the cosmic dance releases energy, passion, and wilderness, Shiva has a smiling face.

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sunflowersandcherryblossoms · 2 months

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Me, trying to decide where the action of my latest WIP takes place in Karakura: *Searches Karakura map*

The map has all of these little things, so I screenshot what they mean.

Curious thing: Neither Keigo nor Mizuiro live in Karakura. They live in Naruki City, but apparently are allowed to go to school in Karakura? I don't know how the rules are in Japan, so...

So, around this area...

Cool!

Thing is, to belong to Tokyo, it needs to be beyond the Tama river...

So... Around Chofu and such?

Who knows! That's the problem with creating fictional towns and cities...

#bleach #karakura town #naruki city

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piinkyypriincess · 4 months

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LETTER'S TO MY LOVELY

Shinichi Okazaki x American!OC

"I Love You"

Main Pairing ~ Shinichi Okazaki x American!OC

Warning ~ Neglective parents, moving countries, naivety, and coming of age.

Spoilers ~ Yes!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 1.5k Words.

Chp Summary ~ Shinichi looked like a whirlwind had barreled over his body and swept him up in a storm. He was sweet like honey, nice as could be. He was truly everything, even from a first glance.

Chp 1 ~ Lovely, as Sweet as Honey.

Living in Tokyo was never something Penelope Brown thought she would be doing at fourteen.

The girl thought she would be going to school dances, and fretting about what skirt to wear at her public school in America.

The girl thought she'd be worried about maintaining steady grades, and staying up for all-nighters.

The girl even envisioned giggling with other school girls about boys at sleepovers.

Girlhood is what she thought she'd have; not being shoved full force into uprising adulthood, and at a private boarding school nonetheless.

Being shoved into a mold meant for perfection, being polished into a refined lady, is something she never envisioned for herself.

Not quite yet had she wanted to ripen into adulthood.

Penelope wanted girlhood that came straight out of the cliché movies with friends and petty problems.

Too bad that girls don't get what they want; and women understand that. A woman was not something she was yet, mentally at least.

But even so: possibilities are the endless opening for more opportunities.

How could she pass up the once-in-a-lifetime chance to go to Japan? Her parents were average middle-class African Americans, they wanted her to take flight from the nest as soon as possible. So, after an extremely short conversation with each other, they inevitably encouraged her transfer.

If not due to how it would look on her resume, they also claimed that she would be able to broaden her horizons. Maybe she would figure out what career path she wanted to pursue, and the school would support it.

Penelope thought it was because they wouldn't have to take care of her anymore, and they got boasting rights that their daughter was going overseas.

She didn't voice her opinion to spare herself from an argument; plus she was too beside herself that she would be leaving the hellfire that is Florida, and her friends behind.

Her parent's might've been neglecting, but they weren't physically abusive.

She still harbored love for them, as manipulative as that love was.

Penelope didn't want to leave America. She didn't care that her grade average was high, there were kids smarter than her, so why her?

She didn't even know what she wanted to do with her life.

So, like the naive little girl she was, she begged for change.

She begged through hitching sobs and wet lashes up at the moon, like it was some deity. She childishly wished for an opportunity to live out her dreams of girlhood, even if she was confined in a Japanese boarding school.

Still, she was just a girl. And girls didn't get exactly what they wanted after all.

It was such a first-world problem, to want to have a school life like one of those cute shoujo mangas she'd been reading recently.

Penelope gave that thought a wet, humorless laugh. She swung her legs back and forth, childishly, over the gray stones that bordered the Tama River.

She was a top-grading student at her junior high in America, and was being granted the opportunity of a lifetime. Yes, she was going to be chucked into Japanese society as a transfer student.

She should've been overjoyed that her school chose her to attend school at their newly opened sister school. She should've been even happier that her parents agreed to the terms of her moving overseas.

Penelope should've been overjoyed. She should've been jumping for joy; she got to attend a private boarding school with some of the brightest minds of her generation.

The school had so many different courses that she didn't even know what to choose as her main curriculum, and ultimately chose general studies.

Possibilities are the endless opening for more opportunities; she'd choose a career eventually.

Junior high was filled with boys, dances, and fun, wouldn't high school be the same?

Penelope prayed to whatever deity that would listen for an exciting life, one that emulated a girlhood the way she'd envisioned.

Ever the greedy soul, wanting more, Penelope got just what she wanted sitting on the late-night train to Shinjuku, Japan.

She'd just left her spot in Chofu by the Tama River. The smooth rocks she sat at were near an apartment complex, that was older judging by its architecture, but had an old luxury feel to it.

Penelope wished she could have lived there instead of having to move into a dorm room. The brown-skinned girl picked at the edges of her sparkly pink nail polish, wondering if she'd have a roommate.

She'd have to return to the hotel the school was providing her to stay in until the new school year started. For now, she stayed half a mile outside the school grounds and was trying to get familiarized with the area before April.

The doors were close to closing when a lanky boy slunk his way through the gap of the closing doors.

He bent down on his right knee with his hand clutching a shiny black belt, in the other hand, he clutched his cell phone impossibly tight.

Muffled yells filled the slightly empty train car, the boy still panting in his soaking wet clothes. Light hazel eyes flitted over the filled seats of the train car, he looked frightened almost.

The train car's door shut with a hiss, and the wheels started to squeak as the train sparked to life. The teenage boy still hadn't sat down yet, making a crease of confusion in Penelope's brow as she took in the empty spaces.

It wasn't as if the boy was just standing, waiting for his stop; he looked like he didn't know what to do with himself as he stood directly in front of the double doors. The doors nearly clipped his clothes as they closed.

Penelope took out an earbud that was connected to her Motorola Razr phone, and waved her hand tentatively.

A small smile graced her lips when the boy clicked a button on his phone, and pushed his antenna down. He took a seat beside her.

Shoving his phone into his wet jean pocket, the boy gave a small reassuring smile back at her. Penelope blinked, looking away from the boy who had a small swipe of red lipstick staining his lip and chin.

The boy muttered a small greeting; the brown-skinned girl smiled a little wider and attempted to keep her eyes off of the boy.

The girl's syrupy eyes were shining with glee as he sat next to her. A pregnant pause of silence enveloped them as the train started to pick up speed. Penelope noted how the boy had a pale skin tone compared to the slight tan that graced the skin of Japanese natives.

Penelope, as an African American girl, was expected to be several shades darker than the rest of her peers.

It would isolate her further besides not being Einstein intelligent.

The girl shook her head at the thought. The first school semester hadn't even started, the negative thoughts that plagued her mind were from nerves. She shouldn't be so negative when nothing has happened.

However, Penelope got strange looks from random people when she walked by them, and squirmed as their stare flamed her body.

She wouldn't want someone else to feel that way with her staring. She didn't want to make an assumption in her mind about his features, or why he looked so disheveled as he tied the laces of his sneakers.

The teen girl just muttered a greeting back trying to exile the thoughts.

The teens' clothes looked uncomfortable with the way they clung to his skinny form. Penelope didn't think as she muttered, “Tough night?” In English before going to correct herself in her limited Japanese.

The glum expression of empty sadness was replaced with amusement as the boy nodded.

Penelope felt the tips of her ears grow warm with embarrassment as she started to sputter an apology. For the first time, Penelope wished she could not speak to evade the embarrassment.

“Yeah actually,” The boy responded in English with an air of surprise around him. A posh British accent with a hint of a foreign twang graced her ears.

A grin spread on his face, “You're accents different,” He said curiously, eyes crinkling into half moons as he gave her a sly boyish grin.

“I'm American,” She started and stuck her hand out politely with a shy smile.

“My name's Penelope, what's yours?” She said hesitantly, attempting to make a new friend without coming off so seemingly like herself.

The boy seemed different, more mature as he spoke without a stutter. He was good at making small talk like adults did to be polite; nothing to do with the lipstick that stained his pale skin so obviously, or even to question in her head, why he was holding his belt.

The boy grasped her warm hand in his cold, damp one. His touch was gentle, and the pads of his fingers rubbed a quick circle into her palm politely with a firm shake.

“Shinichi Okazaki, a pleasure to meet you, Penelope,” He said, moving his body closer to hers.

Penelope could feel his wet clothes seep her own with cool dampness, his side entirely pressed against her as if she was a familiar person to him already.

Penelope disregarded that fact, just happy to have a social interaction that wasn't forced.

A silver-studded designer earring caught her wide-eye's attention. The close proximity to the boy and height difference, despite being seated, made her crane her neck to look into his eyes.

They were several shades lighter than her own, a hazel coffee brown that seemed warm and comforting. She analyzed the features of his face freely as she was taken off guard by his friendliness.

Penelope blinked back in surprise and gave the boy a gummy smile, pearly whites on display due to his kindness.

Shinichi was lovely, the naive girl decided. A lovely boy her age who was as sweet as honey, a friend, a good opportunity to have a sense of companionship with.

Shinichi, I still think you're lovely, even if you don't think that way about yourself.

Not much has changed about you to this day. You're like dark chocolate; sweet and tangy.

Even though I believe our lives would have been different, maybe it was a blessing that we met that night. Maybe it was a curse.

After all, that's what love is, right?

I said before that I wished we never met, but I'm glad we did. Who knows what would've happened if we didn't ever meet?

I know for a fact you would have made it in life regardless, the resilient man you are. I'm glad I got to experience you, even if I am frustrated that you will never be mine.

Thank you for taking my hand in yours that night. I don't think my palm will fit so perfectly with another's, other than you.

You've ruined every aspect of love for me. I'm grateful I even got to experience it with you.

I love you,

Penelope.

#shinichi okazaki #nana imagine #nana anime #nana manga #possessive shinichi okazaki #protective shinichi okazaki #hurt/comfort #shinichi okazaki x poc!oc #shinichi okazaki x fem!oc #shinichi okazaki x reader #???? i annually dont think that applies technically its an oc #shin imagine #black stones #blast #trapnest

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