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ran-orimoto · 19 days

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[ Look, you have to thank @ teclajellymon if today I have remembered to post this here, because, like always, I forgot to do it yesterday at the same Ao3 publishing time and I would have probably forgotten about it forever.

Ehm, *cough*. Today I’m offering you another future Junzumi headcanon of mine in the shape of a very stupid, silly story. The essence of the matter is that I have given them a saluki hound, ok, or better, I have given Izumi a saluki hound who will eventually becomes Junpei’s as well, to his utter joy, I guess ahahah.

Why a saluki hound? Simply because they look like Izumi, I wanted an active, sportive dog for her and, most of all, they are called the singing hounds of the wind. Honestly, my first choice had been an afghan, because her appearance would have clashed even more with Junpei’s and they are the most stylish dogs I have ever seen, no lie about this ahahha. I’ve eventually found a good compromise, though, indeed, the perfect Junzumi dog because of that definition of theirs 🤣💕.

Context: We can place this story after the seamstress one, in spring. Izumi has moved in, has started her life in Venice along with Junpei, but she left a little… Furry problem behind in Japan. ]

• Liù •

People rarely claimed a man and their beloved partner were supposed to look similar, if not identical, -hell, it would have been such a scary world, if that had been true-, whereas when it came to men and their dogs, well, it was just a different story. He had heard and, recently, he had also started seeing all sorts of things, everywhere, and they wouldn’t disappear like mirages in the mist after obstinate rubs given to the lens of his sunglasses.

Therefore, he had started doing the opposite, embracing that irreparably odd reality with open arms and…And quickly regretting his choice.

Staring for too long, with too much instensity, too much curiousity . It wasn’t that ideal when it came to middle-aged women minding passers by’s business, drawn by the beauty of their dog, which, though, -better to highlight it not twice but three times!-, would never be as charming as their own-.

That was objectively a bit of a stretch , in his opinion, because that Swiffer broom obediently sitting by her side wasn’t minimally comparable to his principessa . His …No, she was Izumi’s, what he was saying? It had just been a present from him and he hadn’t even been that fully convinced about her peculiar pick back then.

Whatever, in Piazza San Marco the reciprocal introduction of two furry friends, the proud echoes of refined names soon got replaced by very sharp noises. He should have glued his orbs onto the regal four-legged figure next to him, instead of focusing on the stranger’s long silhouette, on how it extraordinarily matched her pet’s.

The pidgeons peacefully pecking at crumbs of bread thrown by some tourist immediately took flight at the sound of wood colliding with resistant coconut husk. He couldn’t really blame her, but he wished she hadn’t decided to use the handle of her umbrella to punish his naive irreverence. And then , icing on the cake, a chorus of annoying yapping and more powerful, -modestly speaking- barks predictably joined the commotion, offering a musical base to a vivacious and incomprehensible ritual of curses.

This is so lovely, He had shaken his head in pain, This is so, so, so, lovely, And it really was, taken in account he hadn’t told Izumi about what he had been up to during that week off yet.

He was aware she had been too busy with her new restaurant adventure to be interested in discovering about that, about his new favourite game in which he was no one but a gentleman strolling through the streets of Venice, along with his elegant dog he didn’t share any resemblance with.

Now that he thought about it, though, every respectable detective owned a loyal companion scampering after them. Perhaps, she would look like him if he made her wear a baggy yellow raincoat.

__________________________________________

“I swear, you should have seen her. She had this enormous bob hardly covering her ears and it was so bloated, like a cloud. I don’t know why, but I think she might be a high school professor, even if she was speaking in a heavy dialect. I mean, a high school professor wouldn’t speak dialect like that. Especially in that way. But ok, this isn’t the point. She-“

He unwillingly arrested that blabbing of his only when Izumi placed a hand on his forehead.

“This is where it hurts?” She asked with a worried frown, her green eyes squeezed as the tips of her fingers touched the reddened spot.

“Yeah. And it hurts so much I could pass out, eh eh,” He had never been that skilled at hiding the pleasant and soothing effect any physical contact with her would provoke in every fiber of his being. Thus, his impetuous voice calmed down completely, the waves of chocolate in his eyes turned into a quiet swinging tide, his entire body abandoned itself to the miracle of her beauty…Until the gentle, impalpable wind started throwing sharp knives against him.

“Ouch!” He whined, taking some steps backwards and opening his mouth at that sudden change of mood. It had been so unpredictable and now seemed to be mirroring the shifting sky darkening outside. Her nails were so long and neatly-trimmed, so sleek, utterly perfect from the perspective of a lucky man who could hold those soft hands and observe them in bliss. However, they could also transform into the claws of an angry feline, a feral lynx and hurt without needing her to put that much effort. “What was that for?”

“ Ma io dico,” She hissed at him, her index and its minuscule weapon still raised in the air, near to the scratch they had just teased. They both were there, resting on the thumb that had helped them gain momentum. “What were you thinking…?! I have left you alone for a week, just a single week…!”

His lips protruded in a startled perplexity, he blinked twice before her scolding expression, not sure if he would find a point in coming up with a lie. Actually, there would never be one in her presence. Any attempt to hide something from her through the art of deception would get a vain result, would be an occasion to turn into a clown. It was fine to him, though, because he didn’t like the idea of telling her a fib.

“I was looking at her dachsund,” He explained with a pure externalization of sincerity and now her turn to goggle like he had before, but with even more confusion, arrived.

“At her…Dachsund?”

“Yes, her fur was all black just like her hair and she also had a very long mouth like her face. So, I was actually looking at both the dog and the woman, but I lingered on the latter for too long because, oh boy, I couldn’t believe it,” The more he talked the more it sounded like he was chatting with himself in a comical monologue, occasionally glueing his pupils to the wall of the kitchen or, -more fitting for the core of his spirit-, to a dish full of biscuits awaiting him on a drawer. He was so certain they were doing so, at least.

“Oh,” Izumi would have liked to fade at the sight of him approaching the furniture.

“And I’m still holding onto my theory it is nothing else but some weird urban legend that got way too much attention through centuries,” Only the contours of those patient delicacies finally took him to Earth and reminded him of his interlocutor. Still, Izumi understood she would be the one having to push him even more downwards, to the firm ground.

“It’s not not still clear what we are exactly talking about, but what I am sure about is that I would rather have a boyfriend singing,” She managed to pull the dish away from his reach in time. “Than one barking,” And then she put it on the floor, to his puzzlement, bewilderment, utter bafflement.

“I have risked eating dog biscuits…” The realization hit home in a jiffy like a boulder fallen on him. His gaze got lost in a world where the kitchen had melted in a general nothingness. “Izumi, I have risked eating dog biscuits!” After an instant of shock, he brought himself to repeat that by adding his usual bizarre emphasis.

“Yes, you have,” She bursted in a breeze of giggles washing over his concerned expression but surpassing it, ignored. Their gusts failed at stealing his voice and chuckles through that powerful tenor register of his. “You wouldn’t have died, don’t worry. I’ve cooked them.”

“Eh…?” Joining her on the floor, he allowed his exaggerated worry to get replaced by a mixture of skepticism and soft surprise. “You can cook dog food too? You’re-“

“Don’t say that, please!” She promptly raised a palm in front of his nose, haughtily averting her gaze on purpose to make him roast on the grill. When she was sure her steak was ready, she winked at his slightly disappointed grimace. “Or better, don’t say it yet . This is my first attempt and I don’t know if she will like it. I’ve added some slices of strawberries here and there in the mixture because she adores them. Hm…” He instantly shrieked when Izumi reached out to put one of those biscuits in her mouth. Got so close to passing out when she picked another one and offered it to him, seriously proposing him to jump into her absurd sommelier experience. “Here. Taste it and tell me what you think. Is it wet or dry, in your opinion?”

“I-Izumi…! Don’t eat that stuff, c’mon,” He slipped on his backside far from her, near to biting his nails. If he had been a cat, his fur would have been rippled from his head to the tip of his tail. Observing that scene through a more enterntained filter, he had to admit their interactions were really reminding him of the ones of a cat and a dog: weirdly, he was being the most reluctant, if not the most repulsed between them, whereas Izumi was the joyful dog…Doing certain kind of stuff without a care in the world.

“Aren’t you the one always telling people, My girlfriend is the most brilliant cook in the world. I would eat anything prepared by her: even, - guess,what-, dog food ?”

“I-I,” He didn’t know if he was stuttering because of her impeccable imitation of his gestures and tone or because it wasn’t her spinning fantasy that was speaking. Yes, he had, he seriously had: naively believing they would never turn up against him, he had pronounced those exact words in his confessions of endless love for her cooking. He had so many times, thousand and more. “Okay…I guess you won. There’s nothing I can do,” He sighed in defeat and extended his arm to her complacent smirk and the snack she was swinging back and forth. Next time he would have to be more careful about his hyperbolic compliments in her regards, -hyperbolic ones to the rest of the world but absolutely realistic to him-. “And after this”, He gave an uncertain glance at her before grabbing it. “Can I be the one calling her after this?”

“Hm, why not ? You two need to bond and I need to bond more with her too, after having…Abandoned her at Mamma’s and Papà’s for months…” He knew she was still coping with persuading herself that had been the best choice she could ever do for her sake. He had tried reassuring her Liù would have suffered from a more drastic detachment from her usual life, if she had moved in at the same time Izumi had. She would have had lot of trouble adjusting without them around, spending her days alone in an unknown apartment while Izumi was too absorbed in finding her own place in the world of Venice, and he was drowning in rehearsals. It would have been kinda egoistical from their part, so Izumi’s parents had convinced her to leave Liù with them for a while, until they were ready to give her the house and family she really deserved. Now Izumi might be busy with the first weeks of her newborn restaurant, but she wasn’t fretting and rushing any more and could count on Junpei’s support, on the fact he was just at the beginning of another of his adventures at la Fenice theatre.

“Hey,” He chirped a bit too abruptly but with the sweetest intention to cheer her mood up, unnoticed. “Can I do it, now? Like, now, now, now?”

“What are you talking about?” She giggled as he got so close she risked to fall backwards.

“Can I call her now?”

“Oh, that ,” Her precarious pose propped up on an elbow, she pretended to be wanting to slither away from his grip. “Okay, but you need to follow my instructions,” She sneezed at some locks falling on her forehead as he brought her closer with an effortless pulling of his biceps.

“I don’t need those, Izumi. I have got my own method,” Once ensured she was safely sitting upright, he grinned at her sending a shivering hunch down her spine. “Look. No, listen, listen.”

“Junpei, I’m not…” She petrified with her hand opening and closing in the tense silence he created. She was blatantly aware about what was about to happen, but she found herself stuck before the view of a familiar routine of actions, with the expection of that scary ending phase in which he sent his hands next to the corners of his mouth, well splayed.

Oh no…

“Jun-!”

“Liù? Liù?” Junpei improvised a silly melody she thanked Heavens it wasn’t being chanted in his usual rumbling projection.

“Junpei…!”

“Liù, don’t you want your pappa? Liù ? Where is the bimba? The sweetest bimba ? Liù-Chan?”

His grin didn’t vanish under the might of her irritation. He only hopped on the spot, all of a sudden, having got startled by the glasses of the window being shaken by the howling mistral. To think it was almost spring!

“Liù hates noises and, most of all, hates noisy people,” Not stunned due to his loud song in the slightest, he could easily tell she wanted to slap him. Yet, some unknown force he thanked from the depths of his heart kept her from doing that. “She’s a lady and she needs to be treated as such. Are you listening to me? This is a serious matter.”

“I know it is, but I don’t think she hates noisy people that much,” He dared to shrug and the naughty shimmer challenging her anger gradually tiptoed to his right, accelerating when it felt it was being chased by her glare.

Izumi emitted a gasp.

“But…Liù…!”

Silently, on her slender legs, Liù had stepped into the kitchen and closer to the dish. Scompering in that skinny body of hers, structured like a sleek curve culminating in the slope of a luscious tail, she had approached them ,unnoticed, and had sat down in front of the two humans like a well-mannered medieval damsel. Now she was obediently staring at them from her statuesque pose, blatantly trying holding her excitement in her bony bosom but being betrayed by her dashing heartbeat, which was making her ribs expand and contract; by her blonde ears; by her humid nose unstoppably sniffing in the relatively new environment.

In Junpei’s opinion, Liù was the most perfect specimen of female saluki existing in the world, -and also the first one he had ever seen-.

“Maybe she hates people not singing well, I guess?” He sniggered with too much confidence and Izumi gave him a harsh nudge right under his sternum.

“Have you already done this in the past?”

“Of course, I have,” He took a while to recover from the pain she had provoked him, but managed to reply her sooner than both had expected. “I know you had said I needed to learn one thing or two before starting feeding her. And I also remember you had told me she has got her own schedule, but, I mean, Izumi, I was sitting at the table, eating my pasta ai piselli and she was there, looking at me with those deer eyes… What kind of cold-hearted man would do something similar?”

“You fed her with pasta ai piselli ?! “His pupils almost got out of his orbits, noticing the futher point her more vicious elbow was going to take off from.

“No, of course, I haven’t! I searched for her food bags and I poured some food in her bowl. My pasta ai piselli was so full of water, my peas were soaking in a puddle. How could I give her that without making a mess?”

“Do you realize you are implying you would have given my dog pasta ai piselli if you had been a decent cook? !”

He would have started fiddling with his thumbs like a scolded kid, if Liù hadn’t tried catching their attention with a bark, as timid as a polite woman forcing a cough to make someone turn to her.

“You’re right, bimba,” He cracked a large smile at her. Then, he unfolded his stiff legs and clumsily crouched up to talk to the animal at her same height level. “You can eat. Buon appetito .”

“No, she can’t eat yet!” She gave a slap on his broad shoulder, but she eventually gave one onto her forehead as well, a bit disconsolate. At his jovial command, the saluki had gladly plunged her muzzle in her biscuits and she hadn’t been able to anything about it. “She was supposed to stay. That is useful to teach her how to control impulses.”

“If you ask me, it’s so cruel,” He put his tongue on display, standing up to let the dog have her own meal in peace. She got back on her feet too after having thrown the snack she had been holding into the dish. “Wouldn’t you feel tortured if I told you to sit still in front of a dish of spaghetti alla San Giovanna ? My poor bimba !”

“I-“ What kind of conversation was even that?

“Imagine,” He insisted, dropping a whole jar of theatricality on his tongue, each finger of his flying up and down in an undulating choreography. “The smell of olives and tomato sauce spreading in your nostrils…”

“Oh, let me imagine…” She closed her orbs, mocking his silly game by making him believe she was actually thinking over it. By the time she opened them, he had already disappeared behind her, fumbling with her skein of spikes. “That’s what I already do as a cook. I can’t eat what I prepare. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do…” He mumbled, pensive, caressing her strands in awe, as if he was contemplating some prestigious manifacture sewn by a God. “You know, I think I will get used to this dog owner life, after all. Maybe a maltese dog would have been boring.”

“Oh please…” Her eyelid twitched at the mere memory from the year before, from back when he had announced he wanted to give her a candid ball of fur as birthday gift. She had acted promptly, had taken the reins of the situation by herself by dragging him into an adventure on her motorbike, without revealing him where they were going. From Naples to Pisa, Junpei had let her take him to that mysterious destination up through the peninsula, though he had just come from an exhausting train journey. “Don’t remind me of that ,” She playfully begged and pinched his puffy cheeks peeping out from her golden curtain.

“I know, I know. Besides, a maltese wouldn’t have looked like me, either. So it would have been the same thing. At least, though, when I take Liù out for a stroll,” He gently let some precious threads slip on the back of her hand and pushed them forward, at the sides of her smooth neck, down her shoulders. “It’s a bit like if I’m going out with another beautiful blonde lady,” At the beginning, he had just intended to play with her, tenderly highlight about how keeping her hair like that, like a frame of gilded waves, would really make her look like a long-eared dog. Afterwards, however, after some seconds spent holding that silky fabric, he had fallen in love with its enchantment and , now hypnothyzed, he couldn’t just help indulging in his joke. He kept on going on and on, even in a more affectionate way when a cloud passed by her relaxed contentment. She should have been smiling , in his opinion: Liù had greatly appreciated her hand-made biscuits, hadn’t showed any sign of resentment towards her once more. What was she still tormenting herself over? It seemed like if she was fighting against so many forces coming to attack her in unison and he felt the urge to shine over her again.

“Hey, Izumi, do you want to hear a funny thing?”

“It’s not an offence, but you always say funny things. Otherwise you wouldn’t be Junpei, wouldn’t you?”

“But this is truly funny. Funnier than usual, if you prefer putting it like that!”

He tossed her tresses off his head and marched back to Liù, his lumbering steps sounding lighter despite the clumsy landing of his hops.

The dog had just finished eating her breakfast and was calmly cleaning her coat with her tongue. She didn’t seem bothered by the two humans barging into her quiet morning for a second time. Indeed, judging by the shy hints of a swishing tail, she was actually happy to see them again on a full belly.

“Liù, Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu ,” Junpei’s unique call made her stand on alert with excitement. Rhythmic claps and tappings against the tiles of the floor contributed to elicit even more trepidation in her active muscles. She didn’t take too long before beginning doing the same with her paws, the butterfly-shaped metallic medal of her collar dangling and jingling in the flow of her dance.

Once the right mood had been set, once he was certain Liù would follow him wherever he would go, he beckoned to the saluki to head for the living room. In the contagious heat of the fragment, he bumped into an agape Izumi who was witnessing the exchange between the man and the dog with incredulity.

“No, don’t tell me it is what I think it is,” Stuck in a frozen loop at the door of the kitchen, Junpei took advantage of that absent state of hers to involve her in a fleeting, improvised dance, her limp arms obeying to his eccentric desire, her hands falling in his without resistance and her hips spinning along with his like if they were a couple pirouetting in a carillon.

“No, like I said, it’s much, much better than whatever you think it might be.”

“I don’t think so. At all,” She told him straight into his sunny eyes in a firm whisper. “Your neighbours know well who she belongs to. They won’t come yelling at you if they hear her doing that .”

“Oh, so you know she can do that,” He wasn’t surprised in the least, but it was nice to make her blush in embarassment once in a while, turn the tables for the life-span of an afternoon nap. “All those stories about her being a proper lady…About her not liking loud people!”

“H-Hey,” She wiggled, oscillated, opened and closed her legs, raised her fists: whatever it took to escape from his tickling trap. “ Being a lady and loving singing are two interconnected qualities. They are not enemies. As far as concerns about those loud people, instead…”

“Instead…?” He prompted, his fingers flitting around her, ready for another round.

“Your opera singing is loud, but it’s a nice loud. I’ll give you that, ok ? And a dog named after the main character of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly can’t be immune to it, I guess,” He saw her nervously cracking a grin at Liù who had hopped on the sofa and was resting on a pillow. Waiting .

“Hey!” Without prior warning, he let her go to her displeasure, no matter if his tickling was more than unbearable. That would be, -to use his own words-, much better than whatever he wanted to do, sitting at his piano and lifting the fallboard with a thud. “You don’t really want to play piano right now, at eight in the morning?!”

“Of course, I want to. I’m not supposed to make a proper lady wait, am I not?” Liù had apparently got used to that term, to the many occasions she had acknowledged humans would look at her while pronouncing it. Therefore, feeling like Junpei had just called her into question, she abandoned the comforts of her pillow and reached him. She licked his hand and gladly accepted the caresses coming in response. Then, on her haunches, she put her paws on black wood and stared at him in fibrillating expectation. “Eh eh, may I introduce you to my new soprano partner? She’s also the Great Detective Shibayama’s assistant, though, mind you! Let’s say this is just the lamest side of our life as ordinary citizens.”

”Ah…Don’t use my instructions howsoever you please, Junpei Shibayama. Honestly…” At the first row of notes propagating in the hall, she sat on the sofa and aimed the bud of a glad smile at the window.

In her soul, she was just so happy he had come to quickly find out it had never been a matter of superficial likeness.

__________________________________________

Italian notes:

Principessa: princess

Ma io dico: literally, it means “But I say…”. Still it is just some form of interaction to express disbelief (in a negative way).

Pappa: It’s a terms we use while speaking to babies and animals. It means food, technically.

Bimba and bambina: synonym for “little girl” but we use them in affectionate contexts as well. It’s a bit like “baby” I guess. I became affectionate to bimba thanks to italian dub of Lady and the Tramp. It did stick with me in the sweetest way as possible.

Pasta ai piselli: It’s pasta and peas ahaha

Spaghetti alla San Giovanna: In my family it has always been spaghetti, tomato sauce and olives. Such has to remain to them, please.

Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu: Liù, Liù, the baby you are to me. Our structures are really not that easy to translate in english sometimes? We can be free in the order of our words, in our dispositio verborum, so we it’s not always easy to translate everything. Yet, it’s just supposed to be one of those silly tunes you sing to your dog.

#junpei shibayama #izumi orimoto #junzumi #digimon frontier #junpei #izumi #ahhh such an alien experience to share my stories here #my stories I mean #half of them #I don’t post MTTCI here and I will never probably #that’s AO3 exclusive trash ahahha #whatever I want to draw Junpei with his saluki lady on a leash #it’s all roses and flowers until she sends him flying into a fountain #he has got no back bone after all #zura writes

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