inamizaki

[inamizaki]

Vanoé + Eyes ✨

[inamizaki]

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

[inamizaki]

musings on kitchens (as sanctuaries of love) [part 1]

Joy Harjo (Perhaps the World Ends Here), tumblr user @floatingstirnerhead, Alai Ganuza, Banana Yoshimoto (Kitchen), Jenny Slate (Little Weirds)

˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗  

[inamizaki]

"Shin-chan, your friends' game is on!"

[inamizaki]

life is but scattered light

     The end of the world wasn't quite like I pictured in my head. Throughout my relatively short life, I’ve spent a lot of time imagining how everything would end– maybe by a giant flood, an extraterrestrial invasion to which humans are helpless against, or perhaps by an asteroid collision once again. But now that I’m living through the last days of Earth, it’s more impressive than terrifying how different the end would be. It's not as eventful as those depicted in movies, not by a natural catastrophe nor by a war against an unknown species. There was no reason, nor was there an explanation. 

         Today is laundry day. I decided to use the washing machine near the window. It was the one I had put cartoon stickers on when I was a kid, running around my family’s coin laundromat. I brush my fingertips against the aged stickers. Some of them have been peeled off by bored customers. Some of them remained, with their colors not as bright as they used to be. Childhood memories flash into my mind, and it makes me smile. A collection of stories and places and people make up what is called the “past”, and yet the past and all of those that make up who I am will simply disappear as the world ends. It’s an amusing idea, I think. I load my clothes into the washing machine and press some buttons. It begins to hum. 

       Surprisingly, there was no chaos. No one broke store windows in broad daylight, no crimes ran rampant on the streets, no worldwide disorder. It seemed that people were able to come to terms with the end. Maybe most have been anticipating it all this time. Many went back to their hometowns to be with their families, but overall everyone spent their last days going about as usual, as if going through the everyday motions calmed them from thinking about the inevitable end. Or perhaps there were those who did not know that the world was ending. Maybe they did not care.

I peek outside through the window. The numbers in the sky continued counting down.

    I walk towards the glass door and flip the signage. Closed, it now read. The old radio on top of one of the washing machines was playing a melancholic song. It echoed throughout the empty laundromat. This morning, after the announcer bade a heartfelt sign off, the radio station had been playing calm piano pieces. They seem to be fitting for the end of the world, I think. After putting down my keys on the table, I sit on one of the plastic chairs outlooking the empty street. I slump into my seat and look out the large glass window. Beside an iron bench was a stray dog, soundly sleeping. Peaceful. Unaware. The sun is setting for the last time on Earth. It bids goodbye to the planet with a soft tint of orange hues, as if it is giving me a warm hug. To thank me for my stay. To bid goodbye one last time. To say that maybe we’ll meet again in the next cycle of life, should there be one. The old radio has stopped playing its last melancholic song and is now producing a soft static noise which hummed in harmony with the washing machine at the back.

     I notice that the large building in the distance is now gone. It was the old shopping center I always went to. On my free days, I went there with my friends to eat at different restaurants with the goal of eating at every single one. When I was alone, however, I mostly ate at the small homey diner, always ordering my favorite on the menu. During one of the quieter nights at the diner, I wondered if I loved the taste of the meal or just the fact that it was filling for a decent price. There were times when my workmates invited me to go bowling. I found it fun, even though I never learned how to properly throw the ball. It always ended up in the gutter, but the cheerful laughs of my colleagues brushed away the frustration. The shopping center was also the place where I loved going to the most during the Christmas season, because the plaza in the middle was filled with decorations and strings of lights. The sense of nostalgia I got from looking at them always overwhelmed me. 

     Now the building is gone, along with the diner, the bowling alley, the plaza– all the memories of the past, leaving nothing for the nonexistent future.

     One by one, the objects outside slowly disappeared. The streetlights. The iron bench. The dog that was once asleep. They faded away, as if they were made of light and code, nothing but empty holograms being deleted by their creator. 

     The humming of the washing machine gradually came to a halt. Slowly, the other washing machines lined up against the wall started to disappear just like those objects outside. The washing machines that watched me grow up, that saw me as I went out the glass door of the laundromat, that washed my clothes through different phases of my life, they all faded away one by one. 

       I walk towards the window and look up at the sky again. It is time. I take one last look at the once empty street before me. Everything is white, quiet, as if a thick fog has enveloped the city.  The static of the old radio is now gone. Perhaps this is the most peace the Earth has ever gotten.

I feel myself fading. I feel light, as if I was floating, drifting away. There is no feeling of dread nor anxiety. One last time, I think about the misfortunes that happened in my past, all the memories I’ve always wanted to erase from my mind, all the people I wish I never met– they no longer exist. Nothing and no one will be left to remember me, and I realize that it’s alright. The past has been erased. The future remains uncertain, should there be one. My thoughts are now silent, and I finally feel at peace. Soon, I won’t exist. I breathe out for the last time. My vision begins to blur. Then everything goes black.

#short story #short fiction #fiction #fiction story #apocolyptic #apocalypse #apocalyptic fiction #writing #end of the world #existentialism

[inamizaki]

My Star Forever : a BokuAka fic

My Star Forever by fukuronami (on Ao3)

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40953579

Angst

1843 Words. Completed

Summary:

Keiji contemplates on his relationship with Koutarou, and upon coming to certain realizations, he finally decides to do what hurts him the most yet at the same time, what he longed to do.

A BokuAka fic inspired by Mitski’s Francis Forever

Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you!

#bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #bokuto x akaashi #akaashi oneshot #angst #akaashi angst #angst fic #bokuaka fic #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfic #haikyu #mitski #francis forever

[inamizaki]

Disclosure : a YakuLev fic

Disclosure by fukuronami (on Ao3)

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197602

Angst, Pining, Unrequited Love

1512 Words. Completed

Summary:

During a road trip on the way to Miyagi for a reunion, Yaku confesses something to Lev.

A YakuLev fic inspired by Mitski’s Strawberry Blond 

Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you! 

#haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #fanfic #yakulev #levyaku #yaku #yaku morisuke #morisuke yaku #lev #haiba lev #lev haiba #mitski #yaku x lev #lev x yaku #angst fic #yakulev fanfic

[inamizaki]

Enchanted : An OsaAka fanfic

Enchanted by fukuronami (on Ao3)

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104065

Pining, Mutual Pining, Fluff

1363 Words. Completed

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji and Miya Osamu meet and feel a spark. Akaashi hopes that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. 

An OsaAka fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s Enchanted 

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfic #osaaka #osamu #miya osamu #akaashi #akaashi keiji #osamu x akaashi #osaaka fanfic #taylor swift

[inamizaki]

宮侑, insp. | for @sakuatsu

[inamizaki]

Arrhythmia : a SunaOsa fanfic

Arrhythmia by fukuronami (on AO3) 

Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst

3166 Words. Completed

Summary: 

Suna Rintaro did not know how to respond when his best friend, Miya Osamu, had confessed to him earlier today after their graduation ceremony though he felt the same way. They soon realize that sending each other songs is their love language.

Arrhythmia (n.) - an irregularity in the rhythm of a heart's beat

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfic #sunaosa #osasuna #miya osamu #suna rintarou #miya osamu x suna rintaro #sunaosa fanfic #osasuna fanfic #osamu #suna #haikyuu #haikyu #sunaosa fic #osasuna fic