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theshiningg · 4 years

Text

fix you

hogwarts au

fluff and a pinch of angst if u squint

draco x gryffindor!reader

warnings: insecure draco, really cringy fluff

word count: 3.5k (i honestly could’ve done better)

the wind blows through your hair as you sit by the black lake with the golden trio. they talk about something that you, honestly couldn’t care less about. “y/n.” hermione calls out. ron leans over and whispers into harry’s ear, “she’s out of it again.” you hum at hermione as you acknowledge her. “come on, we have advanced potions today.” you smile as you pick your bag up off the floor and walk inside the halls with them. you lightheartedly laugh at whatever ron says until your smile disappears when see draco malfoy standing tall and proud, blocking your pathway to potions. craning your head to look at him, he makes a sarcastic remark to harry. giving him a small smile, you ask softly, “could you please excuse us? we have potions next, well, we all have potions next.” he glances at you and the glare on his face disappears. he turns his head back to harry, “you’re lucky that i have better things to do.” he glances back at you quickly before he leaves to potions, just walking a whole ten feet away.

the next time you encounter draco was a week later at the gryffindor x slytherin game. the two teams fly out onto the field as dean announces them. hermione reads her book while you wave at ron and harry. draco does a lap around the field and matches eyes with you. you give him a smile and a thumbs up. he almost collides with another player but a smirk made its way to his face.

that night at dinner, you sit next to ron as fred and george tell stories about the mischief they caused. george explains, “and so then we put unicorn horn into his potion and bam, explosion.” your eyes widen, “really?” you ask enthusiastically. he nods excitedly and continues his story when pansy calls out your name. “hey l/n!” the hall suddenly goes quiet as you turn around to meet her sitting at the slytherin table. draco lifts his head up after copying down someone’s notes. “open your hand!” everyone within twenty feet of you all turn their heads towards you when you open up your hand with your palm facing up and see a paper crane, flying over to you, landing on your palm. carefully unwrapping the paper, you hear a chorus of ‘oohs’ around the room. looking at the words on the paper, your smile slightly fades. “y/n, what’s on it?” george asks, “yeah y/n, what’s on it?” fred adds on. you fold the paper back up, put it in your pocket and put a smile back on your face, “it’s nothing. carry on with your story, george.”

for the rest of the night, you stayed quiet, receiving confused glances from your friends. you walk with fred and george behind the golden trio on the way to your dorms. you count the tiles on the floor on your way when you get pulled back from your friends with a hand covering your mouth. you hear a whisper on your ear, “hush l/n, it’ll make me sound like i’m kidnapping you.” your friends go a safe distance before he releases you. you turn around to meet his face and match eyes with him for all of ten seconds before looking down.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, too embarrassed to stare directly into your eyes. “nothing.” you reply and shake your head. “it can’t be nothing, if you look so dejected, l/n.” he prys on, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in annoyance. “what did that blasted git even send you?” he asks and when you don’t answer, digs his hands into your pocket, pulling out the note. he opens the note and written in his neat handwriting was his reply to pansy’s question, “do you like l/n?” his eyes scan over his reply over and over again, “no, she’s as insignificant as can be to me.” draco looks down at you as you bite your bottom lip.

“i have feelings, draco. and i know you do too but, that was so heartless.” you sigh, “i thought we were getting somewhere, over this past month. looks like i was in over my head.” your heels click against the floor as you walk away, leaving the blonde haired boy to his thoughts.

about two weeks later with no contact with draco, you live life as it was before. wind quickly blows though your hair as you turn the corner quickly and walk until you stop. before you know it, you’ve walked to the room of requirements. you look throughout the room until you stumble across a mirror. “mirror of erised.” you voice out. the dust flies everywhere as you pull the sheet off of it. looking into the mirror, you see draco with his arm around your shoulder. turning around quickly, you see no one in the room with you. looking back to the mirror, you then see draco again. but this time, he’s not draping his arm around your shoulder, he’s hugging you. feeling a bit shocked, you put the sheet back on and leave the room. you walk back down the quiet halls to go to the library and read about the mirror.

entering the library silently, you find a book called, “mirror of erised: and its history.” you skip over the introduction and find its purpose. “the mirror of erised is a mirror that shows the user his or her heart's deepest desire.” you stand puzzled at why draco was there. what did you want with draco? walking back to the gryffindor dorms was long but you’re glad it was because you had time to think to yourself. myrtle comes flying the through the wall you were passing by and stops as she sees you, “are you y/n?” you nod at her, confused about her sudden shift in attitude. she flies a bit further than you before turning around, “well hurry up.” she demands. you jog up to her and she leads you to the girls lavatory. you look up at her flying and sobs erupt loudly from one of the stalls. she flies down towards your ear and whispers, “he’s sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry!” she empathizes on her last word.

slowly, you walk towards the stall where the crying boy was. you push the creaky stall door open and see draco on the floor. he doesn’t notice you until you place your hand on his back. as he looks up at you, you notice how bloodshot his eyes were and how distraught his facial features were. you pull him close to you and embrace him as he plants his face on your neck and continues to sob. “y/n,” he barely lets out, “the note means nothing. im sorry, i was scared that you would reject my feelings because i’m draco malfoy. the boy everybody hates and would avoid at all costs. but every time i see you, my heart flutters as if it’s going to fly out of my chest or i can’t speak.” he continues to sob, you chuckle softly. “it’s alright, draco. because i like you too. and i realized when i saw you in my reflection in the mirror of erised. i saw the draco malfoy. so don’t be scared.” you comfort him.

for what felt like hours and what probably was, draco pulls away from your warm embrace. he doesn’t look at you, embarrassed for his actions in the last hour. you wipe the remaining tears off of his face, softly with your thumb, as if you’re trying not to crack him even more. you both stand up off the lavatory floor and he looks down at you again. you hold out an open palm to him, signifying him to hold your hand. draco hesitantly grabs your hand and firmly clasps it in his. you drag him until meeting the exit of the lavatory where he stops you.

“y/n.” you turn around and hum at him to continue, “why would you ever want to love someone like me.” you walk closer to him and cup his cheek, “because, even though you have flaws, you can overcome them. i will try,” you pause, “to fix you.”

the following days, draco seemed happier than usual and that scared most people at hogwarts. some nights, he would sneak you into his prefect dorm and cuddle until morning or have you keep him company while he’s doing homework.

you lay in his bed before the slytherin x gryffindor game as draco lays next to you. leaning your head over to check the time, brings out the groan in draco as his head rest had moved. he pulls you back down and nuzzles his head into your neck, “give me five more minutes.” he groans. “draco, i have to go early today, i’m meeting the trio before the boys get ready for the game.” he opens his eyes and gives you a frown, giving you the opportunity to get out of his grip. you pick up your robe and leave as you put it on. “i’ll see you at the game!” you yell from the common room.

walking down the hall, millions of eyes stare at you. you see the trio in the hall as ron and harry stuff their faces for their game. hermione’s usual frown turns into a grin as she stares at you walking down the hall. ron spits out the chicken leg he had been eating and points at you with his free hand. you look at your friends, “what? is there something on my face?” harry chuckles as ron answers, “more like on your body.” you look down at your robe and your eyes widen. when did you put on draco’s robe? and why didn’t you notice? it’s like two times the size of your body.

for the rest of the day until the game, you wore the green robe because one, you couldn’t get into the slytherin common room and two, even if you did get into the common room, you can’t get into draco’s locked room. repping the forest green merch all day was literal torture. not because of hate but because of the begging of wanting to know whose robe it was.

finally it was time for the game. the wind was crisp but snowy as the white specks littered the field. you wrap the robe around your frame, feeling a bit embarrassed as you stood out in the sea of red, wearing the green robe. the players fly out on to the field draco scans the crowd in the crowd until noticing a speck of green. you flash him a close lipped smile and he smirks before yelling out, “looking good in green, l/n.” you give him an unamused smile as harry and ron fly towards you and hermione turns to you, then the rest of gryffindor. “y/n.” you slowly turn your head towards hermione, “yes?” she keeps a straight face, “why do you have malfoy’s robe?” you open your mouth to speak but madame hooch calls the boys over to start the game. draco laughs at you as you point at him and pretend to cut your throat, mouthing, “you’re dead.”

the game goes on while you sit and talk with hermione about your potions homework. while she tells you how to make a sleeping draught, she gets interrupted by dean thomas. “and draco malfoy has caught the snitch! slytherin wins!” a smile arises on your face as you watch draco celebrate. and to your surprise he flies over to the mic and grabs it. “hey everyone!” he shouts, hermione and you turn your head to look at him, “i’m draco malfoy and i’m love y/n l/n!” he says as points at you, amused with your surprised look. everybody starts to crowd around you and ask you questions. getting annoyed about the crowd, you finally yell out, “yes! i am in love with draco malfoy!” before running out of the stands to anywhere far away.

you wait for draco as his teammates walk out of the locker room, leaving you with unnecessary comments like, “wow, malfoy really pulled in a good one,” or “hey, if malfoy doesn’t work out, i’m always available.” in which you responded with a middle finger and the roll of your eyes. he finally comes out and you cross your arms at him. he laughs at your unamused face and comes to pull you into his embrace. you mumble profanities into his chest. “what’d you say love?” he says, amused at your reaction. “i said-“ before you can speak your thoughts, he pulls you back into his chest to shut you up.

as the both of you walk back to the castle, in the cold might i add, he holds your left hand while your right wears his glove and his left hand wears the other side. your intertwined hands stay connected as he puts them into his jacket pocket.

you lay on his bed as he showers before the two of you head to dinner. draco walks back into the room and sees you asleep, hair laid out around you and snuggled into his blanket. a smile arises on his face as he watches you groan in your sleep, feeling cold. draco gets into his bed and wraps his arm around your waist, snuggling his face into your hair. you wake up from his action, “what time is it?” you ask him, eyes still closed. “ten before dinner.” he mumbles, also feeling sleepy after his game. you turn around to face him, one eye closed and the other open, you yawn. you nuzzle against his chest and he pulls you closer to him.

you later wake up by theodore nott opening draco’s door and whispers. you tell him to shush by putting a finger to your lip and he gives you a grin and a thumbs up before going out to the common room and yelling, “malfoy actually got a girl!” you smile at his words and lay back down.

you wake up the next morning as draco brushes his hands through your hair with the addition of twisting and twirling it. he grins as you look up at him. “good morning, love.” he speaks. you give him a light, “good morning.” as the both of you rub your legs together. after ten minutes, you get out of bed, ignoring draco’s whines, and go to his bathroom. while you brush your teeth, he comes into the bathroom and slides his arms around your waist with his chest pressed to your back. you spit and leave the bathroom to get dressed. you sit on his bed, waiting for him, so you could go to breakfast.

you sit at breakfast with a serious face as you think about what to get the boy, who basically has everything. “you okay, y/n?” harry asks, a little confused about your daydreaming. “yeah.” you answer with a small smile. “so hogsmeade later today right?” you ask your friends. hermione nods at you with a happy smile.

you later walk to hogsmeade with your three friends, snow covering the whole landscape with draco’s scarf on your neck because he thought that you would be cold and was worrying about you. harry stops in his tracks and looks at you, “when were you ever gonna tell us that you were dating malfoy?” your eyes shift to the side, “we only started recently. like a month ago, i thought we were gonna wait a little longer, but i guess the dopamine got to him. i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, but i’m not gonna stop loving him because of your relationship with him.” harry’s eyes widen along with ron’s. “no, y/n, we’re not telling you that we disapprove, we just wanted to know why?” you give them a close lipped smile, “because everyone deserves a second chance, no matter how horrible they were.” you continue walking, “come on, let’s go.”

you walk around the shops with hermione after splitting up from the boys. walking through the narrow alleyways, your eyes land something shiny. getting closer to the shop, you see a beautiful snake encrusted, black titanium ring. you grab the door handle before realizing hermione was still with you. “oh, hermione, i’ll meet you at schrivenshaft’s after i’m done.” she rolls her eyes, “okay.” entering the shop, an elderly man greets you. “hello, my dear. what can i help you with today?” he asks, standing up to walk to you. “i would love to see the ring in the window stand, please.”

“ah, excellent choice, my dear.” he says as he picks the ring up off the stand, “a black titanium ring, representing power, strength and certainty. with the addition of a snake, representing rebirth, transformation, immortality and healing.”

“yes sir, i believe he was always a wonderful person, just never had the chance to show it. though we started roughly, i believe he changed. and whatever hurt him back then, could be shed off like a snake.”

the old man smiles at you widely, “that is wonderful, my dear. would you like your initials engraved into it?” you smile back, “i would love to.”

you leave the store after he engraved your initials and walk to meet hermione.

the evening of christmas eve, you sit outside with draco, next to the lake. his head rests on your thigh as your fingers brush through his hair smoothly. his eyes are closed while yours stay open as you stare out into the peaceful lake. “y/n?” draco speaks, still with his eyes closed. you answer with a hum. “are you bored of me yet?” you gasp and look down at him, his eyes wide open now. “of course not, why would you ever think of that?” he sits up to meet your eyes, “other people think i don’t deserve you.” you grab his hand and rub your thumb across the back of his hand.

“don’t be daft draco. if anything, i don’t deserve you. you are the most intelligent and kind boy i’ve ever met. you’re just misunderstood. you’ve treated me better than anyone in my life has and i can’t ever stop loving you for that. so don’t let those fools get to you. i love you so much and if it takes saying that everyday, i will. so don’t forget it.” his eyes water at the end of your sentence. you lean close to him and wrap your arms around his neck, “i love you.” you whisper. you kiss his forehead as he releases from your hold before standing up and reaching a hand out to him, “let’s go to dinner, darling.”

that night after dinner, you go back to draco’s dorm. you lounge around on his bed while he finishes up his dada homework. flipping the page of the book you were reading, you shift your eyes towards draco as he writes his neat notes. he groans, shuts his book and gets into bed with you. you then shut your book and hug draco. he stares at you while you shut your eyes and then playfully open them. “are you tired?” you ask him. he nods, sleepily. “then sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up. i promise.” you whisper back. he closes his eyes as you brush your fingers through his hair.

you wake up the next morning with a smile on your face. draco stirs around in his sleep as you exit his bed and walk to his bathroom. after cleaning up, you walk out of his room and into the common room as you see eager first years opening gifts under the tree. draco comes out sleepily and wraps his arms around your waist, back hugging you. “good morning darling.” you say as you turn around to hug him. “i have something for you.” pulling out the ring box, you hand it over to him. you smile as he opens the box and takes the ring out. “y/n, that’s beautiful. when did you?”

“i went out with the trio remember? i engraved my initials in it so it would be memorable.” he pulls you in for a hug, “thank you. well i also have something for you, love.” you see a small box coming out of his pocket. he hands you the box to open and when you do, a surprised look appears on your face. you pull out a diamond ring with the initials, “d.m” written on them. your eyes tear up at the gift and he pulls you into his embrace. “thank you darling. this is so thoughtful.” the both of you stay in an embrace until theo speaks. “you know you’re both under a mistletoe right? that means, smoochy smooch time.” he grins.

draco cups one side of your face while your hands make their way to the back of his neck. he leans closer and finally, his lips touch yours. his lips felt soft and smooth as yours danced against his. the kiss ends with the both of you staring at each other lovingly.

“i love you y/n.”

“i love you more draco.”

“no way.”

you smile at him softly,

“looks like you didn’t need to be fixed.”

a/n: hi, just wanted to post this before starting school this week, so for conceited, i might post that a little later because i have tons of test this week, sorry but please enjoy this story while you wait heh

masterlist

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stargazing-enby · 3 years

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Tagged by @solarishashernoseinabook — thanks! 😊

1. Why did you choose your url?

That's between me and God

2. Sideblogs?

I have three, but I'm only active on one 😂

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

Since 2014! I was inactive for a couple of years though, and I only came back because I read Harry Potter and the books made me so angry I urgently needed fanfiction to fix them 😂

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Yup! I tag my queued posts as #q

5. Why did you start your blog?

Because I kept googling pics of 80s bands and half the results were tumblr blogs, so I got tired of googling and decided to create a tumblr blog and search for them directly here instead 😂

6. Why did you choose your icon?

Because it's a drawing of us my girlfriend surprised me with and it made me really happy 🥺

7. Why did you choose your header?

Because it's a commission and I loved it so much I couldn't not use it as a header

8. Post with the most notes?

My anti-gatekeeping banners

9. How many mutuals do you have?

A lot 😂 but I have no idea who's a mutual and who's not (except for my online friends) because I don't keep track of who I follow 😅

10. How many followers do you have?

2.888 😊

11. How many people do you follow?

1.148

12. Ever made a shitpost?

Yeah lol! Here are a few

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

... That's also between me and God

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

Not that I can remember, but probably 😂 I have had fights and arguments with Tumblr users before, that's for sure—I just can't remember any that happened on Tumblr itself. It's always somewhere else lol

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

I will immediately block the OP (or whoever said that). If I don't even recognise the blog who put it on my dash, I'll also unfollow them. I have zero patience for guilt-tripping.

16. Do you like tag games?

I love them!

17. Do you like ask games?

I also love them :D

18. Which of your tumblr friends/mutuals do you think is famous?

No one, we're all gremlins 😌

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I— yeah, actually fjsjfj

Tagging @pauleonotis @azaharperezoso @dusiashipsthings @kayos-incarnate @lou-isfake @cassiaratheslytherpuff and anyone else who wants to do this! Please don't reblog this post, but tag me on yours so I can see! 👀❤️

#Tag game

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lavenderek · 3 years

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So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya

#who is this even #haters #long post #please DO NOT REBLOG

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brucewaynehastoomanykids · 4 years

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Misunderstandings

This is going to be a combination of two requests, @mistkissedmoon : "Damian going through traditional courting methods? Asking kent (the next best thing to her father ) for her hand and appropriate disbelief and confusion from Clark, who doesn't understand the difference between courting and dating (intent to wed and casual)." And a request, or rather, an idea, that was made a while back from Wattpad user JRSreigne that Damian plays the piano for Rachel.

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After two and a half years of war, violence, and repair, it was a blessing to live a 'normal life'. Well, as normal as it could be for people like me. People who have seen hell and looked it's ruler in the eyes, living to tell the tale. And honestly, I'm thrilled to leave that life behind me. Though, mother would have my head if she were to be around to know that I've grown to enjoy this kind of lifestyle. Dare I say I even crave to live like this.

Of course, some things will never change. Father and I both still train our hardest and sometimes I even still put on that internal bird costume that gave me hell for a quarter of my life. Raven still meditates, but not as much. She doesn't need to, really. Her father is long gone and she finally has her emotions in check. Part of me thinks it's out of habit.

And speaking of Raven, she, too, has been enjoying this 'normal lifestyle'. Though, it wasn't easy at first. After the war had ended and the world was fixed, Raven was left completely alone guardian wise. I offered once again for her to join me in the League of Assassins, but she once, more, declined. She told me that she was finished with living that sort of life, and I wanted a fresh start and wanted me to join her. Of course, I accepted. I had been away from her for too long and I wasn't about to mess that up again.

However, the issue still remained on who she was to live with. Father offered for us both to live with him but I had a more heartfelt idea: I had seen the way Kent took care of Raven like a father would his own child. And more importantly, he was there for her in my absence. And after losing his own love, I had thought it be fair to share mine. Raven of course didn't like the idea of just, in a way, replacing both Lois and Superboy at the same time, but once we had Kent's approval, she reluctantly agreed, and Kent adopted Raven as his daughter.

Which leads me to my current dilemma: before Grayson's pulpit to insanity thanks to my own foolishness, I had always closely watched his mannerisms with Koriand'r. He would always court and please her in the more classic and, bite my tongue, romantic way. I had even once overheard him speaking about how he wished to meet her father one day so that he could 'properly ask for a blessing'. Recently, I had come to notice that I do none of those things with Raven. It made me feel... worried, somehow. Like she would feel as though I wasn't trying. So, I took the liberty to look up some of these so-called 'cheesy' moves for myself, and once I had information prepared, I was ready to use it.

Sneaking into the Kent home was something I wasn't exactly unfamiliar with, so it was easy to sneak inside in the early hours of the morning and began to attempt to cook the three of us breakfast. I figured I'd do something simple, like pancakes. Which was more difficult than I had intended it to be. All my life I had someone prepare my meals for me, so I never really thought to learn how to prepare my own meals.

"Who's there?" A rather angry feminine voice behind me demanded.

I turn to face Raven, removing the hood I was wearing before she could attack me or alarm Kent. I held my hands up slightly in surrender as she lowered her guard and gave me a confused yet concerned look.

"Damian?" She squinted, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"My apologies," I sighed, "I had no intention of waking you."

"It's... It's alright." She walked towards me. "But what are you doing? It's almost 6 AM and you should be in Gotham."

"I'm just.." I sigh, "I'm showing you how much I love you... look," I moved out of the way of the stove, "I'm cooking for us. Or trying to cook, anyway..."

She giggled. "Is that why it smells of pancakes in here? And why your forehead has batter on it?" She took a finger and whipped the thick substance from my face and whipping it off on her pants. "This still doesn't really explain why you're here though."

"You'll see soon... and, beloved, I hate to ask this of you but, um..." I rubbed the back of my neck, "can you assist me with breakfast?"

She sighed a small smile, shaking her head. "Of course."

By the time we were finished, the sun was rising and we had made a bit of a mess in the kitchen. Somewhere along the line, we had thought it be fun to fling access batter onto each other, which only made things worse.

Raven let out a sigh and she and I finished setting the table. "Clark will more likely be up any minute now." She tucked a stained of hair behind her ear, and I had noticed that she had gotten batter on a few strands.

"You have something in your hair..." I noted out loud before finishing, quickly, "um--do you want me to get it out?"

Raven raised an eyebrow at me as Kent began to walk downstairs.

"Morning, Raven..." he yawned, "what's that-- Damian? I wasn't expecting a visit from you this early in the morning?"

"To be fair, neither was I." Raven said.

"Come, both of you, sit, please." I said, gesturing them both to the table.

They both awkwardly abridged, Raven giving me a questionable look. I soon took the seat next to her facing away from Kent.

"Alright Damian," Raven looked at me as she cut off a piece of pancake, "we're all sitting down, so what's the meaning of your visit? Not that I mind you being here, of course."

"Ah, yes," I set down my silverware and looked at Kent directly, "Kent, your Raven's father now... so it is only right that I ask you this in her presence..."

Kent raised a questionable brow. "Go on...?"

"I never properly got to ask you for your blessing in courtship, so I'm doing it now: Clark Kent, do I have your blessings to court your daughter?"

Raven looked at me dumbfounded and Kent simply stared in confusion. He awkwardly let out a laugh and said, "Court? Son, I think dating her is--"

"I don't wish to just date her, I wish to court her."

His confused look only intensified. "Isn't that what that is?" He looked at Raven, who was shaking her head between her hands. "W-Well, alright..." he cleared his throat as his tone suddenly changed, "as I'm sure you're aware, she needs to be treated with the upmost respect at all times, and, uhh..." he began to lose his words, this little warning of his was obviously not prepared, "just... be good to her? A-And no funny business until your both ready!"

"I believe you're misunderstanding me, Kent: you're treating me as if I only intend on dating, I do not. I intend on courtship." I forced a smile, hoping that maybe I wasn't making a mistake in doing this.

"What Damian is trying to say..." Raven said, the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger, "is that he wishes to date me with the intent on marrying, and he wants your blessing to do so."

Kent gave us both a sheepish grin. "Is that not what dating is for? A-Anyways: tell me when you're ready to wed and I'll help prepare."

I raised a brow at the man. "Is that not what I just did?"

Raven let out a groan. "Clark... he's basically asking to marry asap."

"Oh... oh!" Kent light up at the realization, "I mean dontcha think this is moving a bit fast for marriage? I-I mean have you two even talked about this? Does Bruce know? O-Or--"

"Clark!" Raven yelled slightly, "You're rambling. And worse, you're worrying over nothing."

It took every bone in my body not to facepalm and call this man a fool. I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on him, though, he doesn't really seem like the courting type. Then again, neither do I.

"I just..." Kent let out a sigh, "I just really thought that you were asking to court her not marry her." He said, folding his head between his hands.

"Yes? That's exactly what I said? Which means I have the intent of marriage." I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn't getting annoyed with this man.

"So why didn't you just say that?" Kent's eyes held so many questions that I was beginning to grow to inpatient to answer.

"I did! That's what courting is, you imbecile!" I finally snapped.

Raven hit my shoulder. "Don't call him that, he just doesn't understand! And it's not his fault you're being so strange today!"

"My apologies..." I sigh out in defeat.

Raven sighed with me as she grabbed my arm and lead me away from the table into a back room that was used for storage, shutting the door. "Now," she said, "mind telling me what your problem is?" She folded her arms and gave me an angry look.

"There is no problem."

"Okay, then why are you doing all of this? You break in with no warning and nearly give me a heart attack, then you asked Clark for courtship which even we haven't even discussed yet, and have the audacity to insult your, apparently, soon to be father-in-law?" Her tone softened then. "This isn't like you at all. You'd normally warm me ahead of time if you were going to pull off a stunt like this, and it's not really like you to ask for permission for, well, anything. Is something wrong?"

"As I've said, beloved, nothing is wrong." I grabbed her hands. "I apologize for not informing you of this sooner, I just found no other way to do this. If I had asked you to leave you'd take suspicion, so... kill two birds with one stone, as they say."

She only rolled her eyes and gripped at my hands tighter as she said, "Well, you have my father's permission... but there's still one more person you need to ask: me. 'Cause trusts me, this was a shock to me, too." She let out a small laugh.

I smiled. "Of course." I released her hands and lead my way over to an old piano that seemed to be collecting dust and was undoubtedly out of tune. "I know the usual tradition is for me to get on my knees and carry a ring as a token, but I currently have no ring to give, so you will just have to take my words and sound for now:" I began to play a melody that I had heard Alfred play so many times. I never did get to ask for the name of the piece, but I had watched him play for so long I began to pick up on its notes.

"I had no idea you could play..." Raven said in astonishment.

"I know a few songs, but it was never a skill I preferred to use if I were honest."

The sound that came from it was about as old as the piano seemed to be, and perhaps the soul of its player, but neither of us seemed to mind it. I took the liberty to speak in a slow, and mellow voice over the music.

"Rachel Roth Kent, when I first met you, I felt strangely drawn to you. Some will say that it's because you saved me from death that first day, and perhaps they're right, but I personally like to believe that it is simply because, and I know this to be true, you're special to me in ways I can barely comprehend. You bring me so much joy in countless ways, even during the bad. And with those feelings, I have to ask you: will you make me happy forever and bewed me?"

Raven giggled. "You know normally people ask 'will you marry me,' but I think I like your way a little better... my answer is yes. I accept your courtship."

I allowed a smile to creep on my lips as I stopped my playing and stood to meet her gaze again "Can I kiss you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, bird boy you don't need to ask permission for everything."

She grabbed the collar of my shirt and forced our lips together then. It was... nice. Little did I know, at the time, that Kent had been listening in outside the door, a smile on his face and warmth in his heart.

#dcamu #dc #dcfilms #damirae #demonbirds #rachel roth x damian #damian x rachel roth #damian wayne x rachel roth #raven x damian #damian x raven #damian wayne #damian al ghul #robin #rachel roth #raven roth #raven #rachel kent #clark kent

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scottspack · 4 years

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My Wife Has An 18 Hour Drive Fic Rec Roundup

I wanted to make a fic rec post for the insane amount of Untamed fic ive been reading anyways, and Chi @got2ghost is driving halfway across the country tomorrow, so there’s no time like the present to put all of the really great fics ive read over the past couple of weeks in one location! Let’s get it poppin!

Ones That Chi Already Read:

A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k)

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt completely and wholly fulfilled by the resolution found in this fic. 10/10 cant recommend enough.

One Rouge Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!!

Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he brings him back from the Burial Mounds until they bring Wuxian back to Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I reread this fic at LEAST once a week. *chefs kiss*

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Wangji and Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and the peacock?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

In the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

Ones That Chi Has Yet To Read:

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k)

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it.

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k)

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of his cousin Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

It’s smut! What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

Sweet Night by thejillyfish (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

In-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

Shadows In The Sun Rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k)

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is.....fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

WHEW OKAY that’s enough for right now!

I’m constantly reading new fics all the time so maybe eventually I’ll make a second one if Chi actually reads/likes any of these (they’re picky!), or if anyone else likes this list and wants updates.

TO CHI: Thank you for getting me into The Untamed! I love you! I had the best time texting you every thought that passed through my head while I watched it. I’ve loved all of the content you’ve sent me from the book and the comic. I’ve loved making fun of Yibo with you. I’ve loved being your fic taste tester. Life sucks right now but at least we have wangxian!

TO EVERYONE ELSE: If you read any of these fics please come to my DMs and talk to me about them! I have a lot of feelings and love to cry over fics! Thank you!

#the untamed #fic #WHEW BABY THIS IS A LOT #i did in fact just spend two full hours making this #i dont regret it at all bc im bad about bookmarking things so im glad this forced me to go back through my ao3 history #and actually make a record of the fics ive read and loved #theres SO MUCH talent in this fandom #just a crazy amount #from the fan artists to the fic writers to the gif makers #i forgot how fun being in a fandom is when the canon is good and the fans are creative!#i said it on my sideblog but this has been the first time ive EVER read fic for a fandom #where i wasnt exclusively reading fics about a certain pairing getting together #i literally just want to read any and everything about this universe #regardless of pairing or rating or whatever else #which is not at all my usual style #shout out to the untamed for being a good fucking show and for having like four other canon adaptions #theres just so much to work with and the fic writers absolutely kill it #ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU CHI #HAVE A SAFE TRIP TOMORROW

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patricianandclerk · 5 years

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apps that encourage you to go outside

so!! one of the things i fall into is that like, i’ll often get into points on my days off where i don’t want to go for a walk or go out anywhere because i’m not feeling like being around people or doing exercise, but i have these apps and like, pretty much all of them encourage me to either go out where otherwise i wouldn’t, or to spend more time when i am walking around

please!! feel free to add other suggestions

iNaturalist - for flora and fauna spotters

So, I enthuse about iNaturalist all the time, but it’s just wonderful - basically, it’s an app and website that lets you take a note of any and all wildlife that you spot as you go about your day-to-day life.

When you note the time spotted (which will be automatically taken from the timestamps on photos taken from your digital camera or phone), the location you spotted it, and an identification, it will be Research Grade and will contribute to actual censuses of species and so on! They even do little meet-ups in certain areas where they try to measure all the species in a specific area.

Not a naturalist? Don’t think you can identify the species of animals, insects, flowers, and mushrooms? Don’t worry. The wonderful thing about iNaturalist is that not only does their system give a rough identification of your species based on how it looks and similar species in the area to start you off, but then other people contribute their identifications of the species, so it’s actually a great way to learn more as you go.

I can’t recommend iNaturalist enough, even if you just want to look at other people’s identifications in the area and learn more about it!

Play Store | Apple Store

Candide - for gardeners and flower enthusiasts

Candide is just... It’s gorgeous. It’s literally a social media website just for gardening and spotting flowers in your day-to-day life, and it’s so wonderful.

So, one of the drawbacks of iNaturalist is that when you see domesticated flowers and plants, they aren’t put up for the community to try to identify because they’re captive species, but on Candide? You can post wild plants and domestic ones that you see in gardens and parks, and as well as having their own recognition system, other users will then help ID them!

On Candide, you can ask for plant care tips or read guides if you’re interested in taking care of your own garden, or houseplants like me, but what I really love is that even if you’re not a gardener yourself, you can just enthuse with like-minded people about beautiful plants that you encounter as you go about your day, and the community is endlessly warm and friendly!

Candide will even recommend you close-by botanical gardens and parks that are worth a visit, which is lovely!

Play Store | Apple Store

GuruShots - for photographers who like a challenge

So, GuruShots doesn’t directly require you to leave your home, but I’m including it anyway.

GuruShots is a photography “game” that basically posts several competitions per day, as well as weekly and monthly ones. All the different competitions have different expectations or specifications, but a lot of them focus on getting you out during the golden hour, encouraging you to take certain landscapes, et cetera, which is so great for like... Encouraging you to get into photos and taking different kinds of photos?

I’ve learned a lot about different genres of photography just using this app, and it’s honestly so much fun. You don’t need a big heavy DSLR! Most smart phones have a perfectly good camera, and you can accomplish gorgeous shots just with that!

Play Store | Apple Store

Pokémon Go - i mean we know what this is

Listen. Pokémon Go is fun, it’s cute, it’s funny.

It encourages you to seek out the local landmarks in your area, to go for daily walks where you engage with your surroundings as well as with your phone, and is genuinely just good fun. It genuinely is such great fun for all ages, and while I’m very much not on Pokémon Go all the time, I always keep it on my phone for when I’m going through a phase with it.

One thing I recommend is that if you have a bus commute, play Pokémon Go on your way home, which is such a great way to get quick Pokéstops and a lot of Pokémon, but once you get to your stop, like... You’re normally pumped up from playing on the bus, and you want to go for a quick (or not so quick) walk somewhere before you go home.

Play Store | Apple Store

JobSpotter - spot hiring signs and you get paid

Okay, so this one isn’t really a fun or creative one, but what I really like about it is that it encourages me to take different routes and explore a bit in the same way that Pokémon Go does, which I love!

JobSpotter is run by Indeed, the job site - basically, what you do is keep an eye out for hiring and help wanted signs in storefronts. Lots of people don’t necessarily post their job listings on Indeed, but the site obviously want to get as many local job listings as possible, so what you do is take a picture of the hiring sign and a picture of the store front, and Indeed will then list them on their site.

They award you a number of points based on how many other people have submitted the sign, how long/how often the sign is up (e.g. Starbucks or McDonalds are always hiring, whereas a little family-owned café puts up a sign less often), how clear the pic of the sign is, whether it’s hand-written or professionally printed, how much in desire that kind of job is, et cetera et cetera, and each point that you earn is worth one American cent, I think? Every month, the register resets, so you can submit stuff again if a new month starts and the signs are still up.

The only drawback is that you only get that money in Amazon giftcards, but I earned a little under thirty quid the first week I was using it, so if you do use Amazon, it’s obviously money that adds up and can be a nice little thing while you’re on a walk for an incentive to go further or take a different route.

Play Store | Apple Store

#as defined by dictionary #apps

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catlliecal · 4 years

Text

Cecilia is ready to beat up shit and Bloom is not having it

Or, in other words, a one-shot set somewhere in the second year of the Winx Redux AU by user @drops-of-moonlights Happy birthday, Drops! Have this little piece! I ran out of time to get it proof-read by someone, so I apologize for any errors that might be there. (Rated G, 1.7k words)

Despite living for a year around magic, there were somethings Bloom never found herself fully digesting. Like how apparently the natural appearance of her eyes was actually included slit pupils and not round ones like she had known for eighteen years. And that she had a sister who used to talk from a mirror via dreams. That took some time to adjust to (at least now they could meet face to face whenever they wanted).

Yet the biggest thing Bloom found herself questioning was her roommate’s plant: Cecilia.

It made sense for the fairy of greenery to have plants. What didn’t make sense is how the plants seemed to die every other Tuesday. And what made the least sense was the one surviving plant could talk and move her leaves like arms and blackmail her caretaker (Bloom swears that she saw Cecilia blackmailing Flora at least once).

It just so happened that Bloom’s disbelief made it very awkward to be alone in a room with Cecilia.

Bloom was busy in her sketchbook, doodling out random drawings. She had begun to include a rabbit hole thought, drawing what she thought her childhood friends Mitzi and Selina would look like as fairies. Yet the plant was making this simple task five thousand times harder.

“That top is horrendous,” Cecilia said, grabbing onto the sketchbook. She had waddled her way over to Bloom’s bed, leaving behind a small trail of dirt. “Do something different.”

“I think it looks fine,” Bloom yanked her sketchbook away from the plant. “So I’m not changing it.”

“If you’re fine with trash, then I suppose you can keep it,” Cecilia said. She then began to look at her flowers as if she were judging a manicure. Bloom let out an annoyed sigh. She turned back to the paper in front of her and continued her project.

Barely a minute passed before Cecilia spoke again. “Man, she’s ugly,” the flower pointed to the drawing of Selina. “And she’s barely any better,” the flower pointed to Mitzi.

Oh, that was it. This plant did NOT just insult Bloom’s friends. No one, absolutely NO ONE was allowed to insult any of Bloom’s friends, and certainly not an overgrown weed.

Bloom dropped the sketchbook on her bed, “You know what?” She began, “I’m getting sick of you.”

“Funny, because I’ve been sick of you for a long time,” Cecilia spat, “maybe you should leave for both our sakes.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Bloom said. Before any more words could be thrown, Tecna opened the door to the room.

“Could you keep it down?” She asked. “Stella asked for my help studying, and it’s hard to help her when it sounds like you two are about to enter an argument.”

“I’m sorry, Tecna,” Bloom earnestly said. Cecilia frantically nodded, likely in fear of Tecna unleashing her knife roombas again.

Tecna closed the door again and Bloom turned to Cecilia. All Tecna had asked of them was to keep it down. That simply meant that she didn’t want to hear any noise. Technically that meant Bloom could take this knock-off Audrey the second somewhere out of Tecna’s range and all would be well.

And that’s exactly what she did.

•••

Bloom lost count of how long she had Cecilia had been duking it out behind the school. Despite her simple appearance, Cecilia was strong. Like, real strong. So strong Bloom couldn’t help but wonder where this machine of destruction was when the Trix were attacking the school last year.

The two were about to start round six when a familiar voice rang out.

“Bloom? Cecilia? I saw the note and– what are you two doing?”

Flora had found them (along with the small crowd that had gathered) and was just staring at the sight in front of her. Musa was by her side, a huge grin on her face.

“You two formed a fight club and didn’t tell me?” Musa said.

“We didn’t,” Bloom said, “and even if we did, it only started, like, and hour ago.”

“Yo!” An upperclassman by the name Yvonne raised her hand above the crowd. “Are we allowed to get in the fight?!”

Musa looked at Yvonne then back at Bloom. “Have you been charging tickets?”

“No?” Bloom asked, absolutely puzzled.

“You’re missing out on a goldmine!” She said before turning to the crowd. “Listen up! The free trial has ended! If you wanna see the fight, it’s gonna cost a dollar! If you wanna fight Cecilia herself, it’s five dollars!”

What Bloom expected was for people to complain and start leaving. What she was not expecting was for people to raise up their wallets and move to be the next person to fight the crazed flower.

Musa took the cash and settled at the edge of the crowd. “Alright! Welcome fairies of all ages! Welcome to the Cecilia smackdown! I’m your host, Musa Lu! In one ring, we have Bloom “Nina” Peters! And in the other ring, we have Cecilia the Florialinguis! Will Bloom finally be able to defeat her nemesis? Or will Cecilia rise up on top again? Let’s see! Also, I’m gonna need someone to text Aisha and get her down here! She won't wanna miss this! Now, one, two, three, go!”

Well, this was unexpected.

•••

Bloom was watching the current fight– another upperclassman, this one by the name Luan– along with the rest of the crowd. What had started as a simple stress reliever had turned into an event to put professional wrestling to shame. Over the course of several beatdowns from Cecilia, the Winx had collected a huge amount of cash and became even more famous. Who knew a bunch of students were so eager to fight a plant?

As Luan’s fight came to a close, the crowd became eerily silent, the only sounds present soft gasps. Bloom, along with everyone else, turned to see what could hush such an energetic crowd. It turns out the very thing that could hush such a crowd was a young underclassman who had dragged Griselda out.

“What’s going on?” Griselda asked, her glare alone freezing the entire crowd. “I was told students were being put in danger.”

Students looked at one another, no one wanting to speak. Bloom was one of them. The last thing she wanted was Griselda’s wrath. But she was the one who started the fight. Better she take the blame than everyone.

“Ms. Griselda?” Bloom said, her voice slightly shaking. She pushed her way through the crowd to the other side. “I was the one who started this. I had come out here to fight Flora’s plant, and then people started joining in. If you’re gonna punish anyone, punish me.”

Griselda looked directly into Bloom’s eyes. Seconds moved at the speed of minutes.

“Why would I punish you?” She said, her expression softening.

Wait what.

“Huh?” The underclassman said, utterly shocked.

“Why would I punish a fight like this?” Griselda continued, “From what I had heard, it sounded like reckless roughhousing, or worse, that troublemakers from another school had broken in. This?” She gestured over the crowd, ending on Cecilia. “This is the good kind of fighting! The kind that takes off stress and sharpens your skills!” Griselda made her way to Musa, the students in the crows parting like Griselda was Moses and they were the red sea.

“Miss Musa,” she began, “Are you the next to fight?”

“No, ma’am,” Musa replied, “I’ve been monitoring the fight.”

“Take five,” Griselda said, “I’ll run this round while you show us what you’re made of.”

Musa didn’t need to be told twice as she bolted over to where Luan was standing. The crowd began to relax again. Bloom made her way back to the front, excited to see what one of her friends could do.

•••

The fights finally ended when it was time for dinner. Students were bussing with conversations over the dining hall as many tales were recounted.

“What exactly happened?” Tecna asked.

“Oh, ya know,” Must said, “just the normal accidental formation of a school-wide fight club.” She took a large bite of her dinner.

“How?!” Tecna asked.

“Um,” Bloom began, “remember how Cecilia and I were arguing earlier?”

“Yes,”

“Well, she kinda hit a huge button and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“So you decided to go outside and fight the plant?” Tecna asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

“Ding, ding, ding…” Bloom weakly raised up a fist. “We have a winner…”

“What did Cecilia do to make you so mad?” Flora asked.

“She kinda insulted my drawings,” Bloom sighed.

“Just that?” Stella asked.

“I was kinda drawing my friends from back home,” Bloom continued, “and Cecilia kept criticizing their appearance. I guess I kinda lost it.” She shoved a huge bite of food into her mouth, hoping that the rest of her friends would leave her alone.

“Aw, Bloom!” Stella said, “That’s so sweet!”

“Really?” Bloom said, mouth half full. Tecna looked at Bloom, causing the girl to blush out of embarrassment as she quickly swallowed her food.

“Stella’s right,” Tecna said, now smiling. “You couldn’t stand your friends being insulted, so you stood up for them. Even if your methods used were not the most conventional.”

“Who cares if they were conventional?” Aisha said, “I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty good knowing I’d have a friend willing to fight for me.” Her kind words made Bloom smile.

“Come on, Aisha,” Stella said, smiling, “I thought we already proved that to you with the whole Shadowhaunt thing.”

“I know,” Aisha said, “But there’s something different knowing you have a friend who’d go on a crazy rescue mission with you and knowing you have a friend who’d accidentally form a fight club while defending your name.” She held out her fist, and Bloom bumped it.

“I’m going to need to talk to Cecilia later,” Flora sighed, “none of this would have happened if she just knew to keep her nose out of other people’s business.”

“Please do,” Bloom said, “I do not need another accidental fight club forming.”

“The fight club is dead?” Musa asked. “Come on, you can’t kill the fight club when it’s so young!”

Bloom looked Musa in her eyes, which were watering up like a puppy dog’s.

“Okay,” Bloom said, “we can keep the fight club. Besides, it was kinda therapeutic to punch a plant.”

“Yes!” Musa cheered. “The official Alfea fight club is a go!”

#Winx #winx club #winx bloom #winx flora #winx stella #winx tecna #winx musa #winx aisha #cal writes #Tumblr please work with the page break

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chaotic-charlie · 4 years

Text

✨Sleepyhead✨

(Words: 1512)

(Pairing: Ryo x Satsuma)

(Warnings: None! This is fluffy.)

(For the user who requested it. The sing mentioned will be linked.)

Sunlight filtered through the music club room window, illuminating the room. More importantly, the rays of light made the room warm, and perfect for napping..

Which Ryo couldn’t seem to do. He was used to sitting in the room with his club members, and he’d often fallen asleep just like this. Something was off... Different. It was making the blond man tense, for some reason.

Ryo looked around, and still couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He was lounging on the sofa next to the window, as usual. Satsuma sat in silence, having mentioned something about studying.

That’s when it hit him; Satsuma was being quiet. Even when he swore silence, Satsuma had a habit of muttering to himself when he studied. Whether it was reading aloud, or taking verbal (perhaps mental?) notes, Satsuma always made noise.

Ryo considered that maybe Satsuma was angry, but it made no sense. If he was angry, surely he’d be yelling at Ryo.

With frustration and curiosity rolling about in his mind, Ryo could take the silence no longer. He stood and stretched, waiting to see if Satsuma reacted. He didn’t.

So, carefully, Ryo slinked over to Satsuma. He gently called, “Yo, Satsuma, you good?” No response.

Ryo leaned down to peek at Satsuma. When he finally realized what was happening, his heart nearly stopped.

‘No way.. Is Satsu really asleep?’ Ryo thought, peering closer at Satsuma. Indeed, it appeared the grey haired boy was sleeping, with his head rested on his non-dominant hand. Part of Ryo wanted to reach out and remove the hand from holding up Satsuma’s head. He knew better, because Satsuma would absolutely assault him if he did that.

Ryo grinned to himself. ‘So, even the great Satsuma Kadonooji can get burnt out..’

And Satsuma really did look burnt out, upon closer inspection. He had deep bags under his eyes, and his uniform was messy- Both things were very unusual on Satsuma.

Without thinking, Ryo slowly reached out. He grasped Satsuma’s glasses and pulled them off; If Satsuma needed sleep, he shouldn’t do so with his glasses on.

Despite Ryo’s attempts to be careful, Satsuma still startled awake.

“WHAT- What are you doing?” He demanded, looking confused and bleary-eyed.

“Took your glasses off, what are you doing?” Ryo smirked, and stood up straight. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Studying! Something you should do more of.” Satsuma bit back defensively, obviously caught off guard. His face was flushed with embarrassment, a look that Ryo rather enjoyed.

“Looks like you should do it less, Satsu. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m not studying too much, I just..” Satsuma sighed and rubbed his face, as if trying to wipe off the emotion on his face. Ryo cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for Satsuma to continue.

“I can’t sleep.” Satsuma finally relented, staring between his fingers at the half-completed assignment before him. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all, lately.”

“Oh.” Ryo nodded. “Well, you slept just now, right? So maybe you should go back to the dorms and give it a try.”

“Maybe..” Satsuma glanced at Ryo, with the idea that Ryo’s presence made it easier. Despite their petty squabbles, Satsuma did take a lot of comfort in Ryo being around. He was woefully unaware that it was mutual, so he couldn’t dare ask that Ryo just sit with him for a while.

“How about this-“ Ryo gave Satsuma that sly smirk he always had when he got an idea. “I can go get you some sleepy tea, and some other sleep-help-whatevers. I’ll meet you at your dorm, and if you still can’t sleep we can figure something out.” Ryo looked so convinced that this little plan would work, that Satsuma couldn’t say no.

Satsuma sighed, and nodded. “Fine. I guess it could work..” He removed his hands from his face and gave Ryo a half-hearted, very exhausted smile. “I’ll see you later?”

“Hell yeah you will!”

-.-.-

Satsuma sat in his bed, fidgeting. He, of course, couldn’t sleep. Ryo still hadn’t visited, and that was just keeping Satsuma awake even more.

When a small knock sounded at his door, Satsuma nearly leapt out of his skin. He had been drowsing, or maybe he was lost in thought. “Coming!” He called, as he scrambled to open the door. When he finally managed to swing the door open, he was shocked to see Ryo standing there with multiple bags.

“Sorry it took so long, I got distracted..”

“Of course you did.”

“Hey! Either way, I got sleepy time tea, a mask- It has cats on it!- some lavender incense, and a weighted blanket.” Ryo grinned, and Satsuma almost stumbled.

“How much money did you spend, Ryo? I’ll pay you back for everything-“

“Nope! You won’t, because I won’t tell you how much it cost. Just relax, you need sleep.”

Satsuma decided not to argue for now, because Ryo was being stubborn and he was so tired.

“Alright.. Well.. What now?” Satsuma asked, awkwardly sitting down on his bed.

“You take the blanket, and the mask. I’ll make the tea and burn the incense!” Ryo didn’t wait for a response, he just shoved the items into Satsuma’s arms and shuffled off, leaving Satsuma alone again. With a sigh, Satsuma removed the blanket from its package and slipped on the mask.

No matter how much he adjusted and relaxed, Satsuma still couldn’t sleep. He quietly cursed himself, because if he could just sleep Ryo wouldn’t be going through all this trouble for him.

After ten minutes, Ryo very ungracefully returned. Satsuma had half a mind to curse at him for being so loud, but he found he just didn’t have the energy.

“Still awake?” Ryo stage whispered, peeking over Satsuma. Satsuma groaned and rolled over to face Ryo.

“No, I’m asleep.”

“You’re awake.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I knew that!” Ryo tutted and stuck his nose up. “I’m trying to help! Stop being rude.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Ryo seemed shocked that Satsuma had actually apologized, but he didn’t comment.

“If the incense and tea don’t help, then we’re going to the hospital.” Ryo said casually, while lighting the incense.

“What? Absolutely not!” Satsuma protested.

Ryo fixed another stubborn stare on Satsuma. “Satsuma, something is up. Obviously. We might have to get you some sleeping meds, and if that’s the case why wait ’til you collapse?”

Despite the fact he thought Ryo was an idiot sometimes, Satsuma knew Ryo was right in his matter. “Fine.”

Another grin nearly knocked Satsuma out. “Thank you! Now lay down.”

“I can’t lay down and drink tea.”

“Good point. Well, move over. We can listen to calming music while you drink.” Ryo motioned first Satsuma to scoot over, so Satsuma complied. The close quarters makes Satsuma nervous, and he could only pray that Ryo didn’t see how much he was blushing.

Ryo pulled out his phone, and Satsuma nearly choked when he saw the background. An old picture from a night of karaoke, with Ryo hanging off Satsuma with that familiar grin; Satsuma looked flushed and wild. If he hadn’t known the context, Satsuma would have thought he had a fever in the picture. In reality, he had just finished singing a very heartfelt rendition of ‘Cat’ by Relient K. The song always reminded him of Ryo, so he had sung it as a way to relieve himself of his pent up emotions.

“Why is that your lock screen?” Satsuma squeaked.

“Because, it’s a good photo. Besides, you deserve a spot on my lock screen.” Ryo nodded as he spoke, as if it wasn’t worth arguing.

Not that Satsuma could argue.

“Just play the music, please.” Satsuma leaned back against the wall next to Ryo and took a sip of the tea. It was rather relaxing, if he was honest with himself.

Ryo noticed how Satsuma seemed to finally settle a little. He smiled to himself, because the small victory was worth the bickering. Satsuma may actually sleep, and that was enough.

Without another word, Ryo put on a playlist of calming music and offered Satsuma an earbud. Satsuma took it with an appreciative nod. They sat in comfortable silence until Satsuma finished his tea. When he tried to get up to put the cup away, Ryo gave him a stern glare and took it. He casually chucked it somewhere, which caused Satsuma to smack him.

After they settled back down, Ryo was utterly delighted to hear Satsuma snoring gently. He glanced over just in time to catch Satsuma as he fell sideways.

Directly onto Ryo.

Ryo felt his face light up with blush, but there was no way he was about to move Satsuma. He did, however, pull off Satsuma’s glasses again. This time, Satsuma didn’t stir.

Suddenly it dawned on Ryo how tired he was. The incense and music was doing a number on him, plus being with Satsuma under a weighted blanket.. It was like he had died and heaven had been constructed around him.

It wasn’t long before Ryo drifted off, falling asleep under Satsuma.

#Spotify #actors: songs connection #ryo x satsuma #a:sc #ryo saotome #satsuma kadonooji

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yellowcanna · 4 years

Text

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

┏━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┓

◅ PREV MAIN NEXT ▻

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CHAPTER 14

STRAYS (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight, Nanami_ontheShore, Shady Spades

Dazai sat comfortably in his seat as he looked towards the stage, his eye meeting a pair of sky blue ones. Bathed within the red light, nobody noticed the faint trail of a crimson glow slowly disappearing from the singer’s body.

Chuuya was smiling at the crowds and even talked to some of the audience that ran too close to the stage despite the line of waiters holding them back. Somewhere in the back, someone even threw him a can of beer, which he caught with ease before waving in that direction.

The man down there was like a star shining brilliantly in the night sky.

Yet only Dazai knew that, right now, every movement Chuuya made was carefully calculated. No matter how he stood or where he was seemingly looking towards, he made sure that Dazai was well within his sight. Despite how relaxed he may look, there was no question that the Executive would spring into action the second danger towards his boss was detected.

Chuuya walked off the stage, tossing the microphone to Tachihara who took his place.

The music picked up again, pulling the crowd's attention away from Chuuya as the redhead made his way back into the VIP section.

As soon as Chuuya returned, Dazai dismissed the guards around him, leaving the space for only the two of them.

The brunet patted his knees, but the redhead stopped right in front of him with his arms crossed.

“What’s wrong, Chuuya?” Dazai blinked his large, chocolate brown eye at his lover expectantly. “You were so docile before!”

“You want to see how docile I am?” Chuuya gritted, cracking his knuckles to loosen his joints.

“You never know who might be watching, we need to keep the act up!”

“There’s no one watching,” Chuuya retorted.

“They could from that giant hole in the wall.”

“You mean that?” Chuuya huffed proudly as he gestured towards the wall he had thrown the League of Villains through. The hole was already filled up by broken pieces of bricks, smashed together and squeezed into the hole until not even the smallest gap could be found.

“Uwaah…” Dazai made a disgusted face. “I bet interior designers all over the world are crying in joy that Chuuya didn’t become a construction worker.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya felt a vein on his forehead throb. It was a miracle his veins haven't popped yet. "I'd like to see you do better, you shitty—mmh!”

While the Executive was distracted, Dazai reached up, a nimble finger hooking onto the silver ring on the redhead’s choker, and pulled him down. Chuuya stumbled as he fell over Dazai, but he swiftly put a knee between his boss’s legs and a hand on each side of the brunet’s head to stop them from colliding.

Chuuya moaned into a pair of lips that smothered against his, with a wet tongue slipping into his mouth without any warning. Rough, calloused hands caressed his hips before they slipped under his tank top to feel his abs.

The redhead shivered at the touch before pulling away.

Dazai didn’t stop him. He just sighed in disappointment and licked his lips that were moist from the shorter man’s saliva.

“You know, Chuuya.” He looked up to the redhead who was fixing his clothes despite how it didn’t matter since they were in a club and the other wasn’t in his usual suit. “Maybe I should demote you and have you become my personal dog. That way, I can have you on my lap day and night.”

“I would like to ask the boss to please reconsider, as the Port Mafia cannot afford to lose a valuable asset such as Chuuya-sama.”

The boss and his right-hand man turned to see an elderly man making his way up the stairs.

“Ah, Hirotsu-san,” Dazai greeted cheerfully, “did you enjoy your vacation?”

“It was quite eventful.” Hirotsu bowed to his boss before turning to Chuuya. “Your performance tonight was spectacular, Chuuya-sama.”

"At least someone appreciates my effort," Chuuya moved to stand by his boss's side.

“Well then, tell me about your reports, Hirotsu,” the Port Mafia boss said as he got comfortable in his chair.

Hirotsu reached into his coat and pulled out a large yellow envelope. Chuuya stepped forward to take it before passing it to his boss.

The first thing the two of them saw when Dazai pulled out the papers was the picture stapled on the first page. She was a young girl about the age of six or seven with bluish silver hair, crimson eyes, and a horn on the right side of her forehead.

“I have confirmed that the Shie Hassaikai is indeed creating a drug capable of destroying Quirks. The drug is created using the flesh of Chisaki Kai’s adoptive daughter, Eri.”

“Flesh?” Chuuya raised a brow. “So it’s a Quirk?”

“Yes. The girl’s Quirk is to rewind the time of living beings.”

"Which means with proper adjustments her Quirk can directly attack the virus within the host's bloodstream and completely erase the virus from the body without damaging the body itself," Dazai hummed as he flipped through the documents.

“It is quite similar to the vaccine first created when Quirk began to appear,” Hirotsu nodded.

“But now, those vaccines will only kill them,” Chuuya pointed out. “Since the second generation, the bodies of those outsiders started to merge with the virus and now it is part of their genetics. There's no way of reversing that process without killing them.”

“Yet this girl can rewind the time of the genetic structure of the body to separate the virus without taking their life.” Dazai smiled before his eye snapped to Hirotsu. “How far along is the development of this drug?”

“I would say at eighty percent," Hirotsu replied. “The current drug created by Shie Hassaikai can only temporarily remove a host’s Quirk for six to seven hours.”

“And?” Dazai tossed the documents onto the table. “Surely you’ve brought me the finished product.”

Hirotsu bowed before setting a black briefcase onto the table. He unlocked the case with a finger scanner then swiftly keyed in the passwords.

The case unlocked with a light click.

Spinning the briefcase around, Hirotsu laid it down and opened it to reveal five syringes. Each syringe was within a vacuum-sealed bag and filled with crimson fluid.

“During my infiltration, I had taken some of the incomplete drugs as well as some samples from the girl and brought it to the laboratory yesterday evening. These are the completed versions that the lab has created.”

“So they only needed one day to finish what Shie Hassaikai had been trying for years,” Chuuya snorted. Organized crime in the outside world is getting worse and worse as the years go by. It was also stupid of the Shie Hassaikai to sell the drug when it was still incomplete. Did they think they wouldn't catch unwanted attention? Or were they that confident in thinking they were the only ones capable of creating the drug just because they had the material?

Dazai reached forward and took out one of the syringes. He squinted his eyes to get a closer look at the drug inside. While the colour was the same as blood, the density was closer to water’s.

“Have these been tested on Ability users?”

"No," Hirotsu replied. “According to the head scientist, this drug only targets the body's DNA which the viruses reside in.”

“That I’m sure.” The brunet agreed as he put the syringe back into the case. “But nevertheless, we can never be too careful. Give these to Ryuunosuke-kun and have him test it out on Ability users. If by some miracle it does have the power to destroy Ability…”

Dazai’s eye narrowed, losing the warm light it held before and took a colder, crueler quality.

“Kill the girl and burn the Shie Hassaikai to the ground.”

“Yes, boss.” Hirotsu bowed. Recognizing his boss’s dismissal, he took his briefcase and headed off to complete the first task he was assigned since returning to work.

Chuuya watched Hirotsu leave before looking over to Dazai who was lazily flipping through the documents scattered on the table while humming a light tune.

“You seem pretty happy,” the redhead noted.

“Can you blame me?” Dazai grinned at his right-hand man. “It’s been a while since someone dared to blatantly scheme in front of me like that, especially when the schemer is as easy to read as an open book. I can’t help but play along~”

“Play along?” Chuuya narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word that came out of his boss’s mouth. “You mean manipulating them to play along with your shit? And don’t fucking tell me that making me sing on stage every Tuesday for the past three months was just for this!”

“How could you accuse me of that, Chuuya!” Dazai gasped with his hands flying over his heart. “I truly enjoyed watching you sing every night. Chuuya’s like a shining star on stage!”

Another vein popped out from Chuuya’s forehead. As much as he wanted to slam his fist into this man’s gut right here and now, he knew he couldn’t. They were in public, they had an image to keep up.

“So? What’s with those kids?” Chuuya snapped, changing the subject.

“Chuuya, even if they have eighth-grader syndrome with dreams of destroying the world, calling them kids is a bit—”

“I’m talking about those Hero kids,” Chuuya corrected. “The ones from U.A. You purposely led them here at this time and knew I would have no choice but to let them out the backdoor.”

“I did promise their principal to show them around Yokohama," Dazai smirked. “What kind of guide would I be if I didn’t let them enjoy Yokohama to the fullest?”

Chuuya snorted at the poor excuse. He didn’t care that Dazai didn't answer his question, as he already has a clue as to what that was about. After all, that person was doing his mission nearby. Although the chances of them accidentally running into one another were slim, if a certain scheming bastard manipulated this…

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Seven Months Ago—Port Mafia Headquarters

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BOOOOOOOOOOM

The sounds of explosions resonated through the air, shaking the entire building as dark smoke stretched towards the night sky.

“Fire! Shoot it down!”

“The barrier’s been damaged!”

“What are they doing?! Why isn’t the barrier restored yet?!”

“The system’s been jammed! We can’t operate it!”

"Another one's coming!"

"GET DOWN!!"

Within the darkness, a missile flew down from the sky, slicing through the wind as it aimed towards one of the five Port Mafia buildings. The missile slipped through the hole in the barrier the first missile had created, slamming into the side of the building as crimson flames erupted, followed by the sound of explosion.

Alarms echoed across the halls as sprinklers were immediately activated to put out the flames.

Men and women ran towards where the explosion had occurred to help put out the fire.

A man cloaked in black rushed down the hallway, his body almost becoming a blur as he flew down the stairs and arrived at the floors that had suffered the most from the explosion.

“Senpai!” a blond-haired woman gasped as she did her best to catch up to her superior. “Senpai! It’s too dangerous, please head back!” she shouted after him, but the man did not listen to her words.

The explosion had annihilated the hallways of three floors, but that wasn’t important at all. What’s important was the room at the end of the middle hallway.

He ran into the fire, one hand holding a cloth over his nose and mouth to protect his lungs from the heavy smoke. When he arrived at the room, his eyes flew wide at the metallic door that had been completely blasted off its hinge, distorted and leaning against the corner.

His cloak fluttered around him as he walked into the room. Silver eyes narrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. Aside from one side of the wall completely blasted away by the explosion, the remainder of the room was pretty much undamaged.

The man looked over to the bed, then to the collection of large stuffed animal toys. Activating his Ability, black tendrils shot out of his coat, stabbing into the bed, toys, and closets—tearing everything apart.

The blond woman finally caught up, panting heavily as she walked into the room. She wasn’t given the time to take in what the room looked like before her eyes shifted to the missing wall where the outside world was visible to her eyes.

“Senpai!” She cried as the man whirled around, looking up to the sky where a giant whale was swimming beneath the sea of stars.

They were only able to see the barrier around the headquarters materialize for a split second before multiple explosions blasted over the surface of the barrier. For a minute straight, the barrier was engulfed in flames, casting crimson light upon those inside the building.

Everyone shielded their eyes as the barrier protected the building from being touched by the scorching flames. When the flames finally disappeared, all that was left was the crumbling pieces of the barrier. When the raven-haired man looked back up to the sky, the whale was gone.

“So this was what they were after.” The man gritted his teeth as he stormed out of the room, stepping over a framed TV in the process, completely shattering the screen under the pressure of his foot. “Higuchi, send out an order. They couldn’t have gotten far with Q. Send out all men to find Q and kill them on sight.”

“Yes!” The woman hurriedly did as she was told. She tapped onto the Bluetooth in her right ear and commanded, “Abandon all battle stations! Q has been captured by the Guild! All personnel are to find Q and kill on sight!!”

From another building identical to the one that had suffered from the bombing, a man in a black suit and a red scarf stared at the bright flames lighting up the night.

“Boss, please step away from the window! The barrier is gone, it’s dangerous!” the men around him fretted, but the brunet just waved them off.

“It’s fine. They can’t see anything from the outside.”

“But—” The men looked like they wanted to argue, but a sharp glare from their boss silenced them as they remembered their place.

“Boss.”

“Ah, ane-san.” Dazai smiled when he saw Kouyou speed walking over to him. The men surrounding him backed away, making room for their Executive.

“Where’s Chuuya?” She furrowed her brows, instantly noticing the lack of a petite redhead. Ever since Chuuya had become Dazai’s right-hand man, the two were barely ever seen being apart.

“Chuuya is checking on the barrier," Dazai replied. “Do you need something, ane-san?”

"The Guild has Q," Kouyou informed her boss with a grave look on her face. “Please follow me into the safe room until the situation is dealt with.”

“Ah-ah~” Dazai sighed, but obediently followed Kouyou down the hall with men surrounding the two as protection. “I leave the headquarters’ defense to Ryuunosuke-kun and this is the result. Looks like he’ll need some more discipline once the Guild’s been dealt with.”

“The missiles accurately targeted the room Q was confined in,” Kouyou frowned, not as easy going as her boss. “I’m afraid we may have a traitor amongst us.”

“Hm…” Dazai hummed, “There’s no need to worry, ane-san. I’m sure everything will work out.”

Kouyou glanced over her shoulder to her boss. Questions were swirling in her eyes, but the Executive kept her silence and continued leading the way.

It was only after they began descending the spiral of stairs that she spoke again.

"The Guild has crossed the line by directly attacking us," Kouyou said as they arrived at the lowest floor. She waved off the men around them and led Dazai down a long hallway. “Do you still refuse to let us step in?”

“I told you, ane-san. Taking down the Guild is Atsushi-kun and Ryuunosuke-kun’s job,” Dazai said, stopping in front of a door. The two guards standing by the door bowed at his presence as Dazai’s fingers danced swiftly across the number pad.

After scanning his palm, the doors opened, one layer after another. The moment Dazai stepped inside, the doors slammed shut, clicking sounds echoing in the air as the locks were being put back into place.

Dazai strolled into the simple underground chamber. The most elaborate thing here was the bed and chandelier. He leaned over a handrail, humming as he gazed up at the chandelier hanging directly above his large bed. He should find some time to replace that obnoxious thing.

Dazai blinked, seeming slightly surprised before he stifled a small laugh.

“Four years ago, the first thing that would have come across my mind would be how perfect it is for hanging.” Dazai snorted at his own change as he walked to his bed and plopped onto the king-size mattress. Or perhaps he could sabotage the chandelier and have it fall on him while having a peaceful sleep.

“If you want to die that badly, I can come and finish you off,” a sarcastic voice came from the black Bluetooth in the Port Mafia boss’s ear. “How does the curb sound to you, shitty boss?”

“And leave Chuuya to become a widow?” Dazai smirked as he folded his hands behind his head. “I trust that you haven’t been caught?”

“Who the hell do you think I am?”

In the other building, a short man in a black suit and fedora kicked down the iron door. He emerged from his hiding spot with his hands tucked in his pockets. Despite the entire place being charred and dusty, there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his body.

“As if I’d get caught by that apprentice of yours,” Nahakara Chuuya snorted as he walked into the room that looked as if a beast had been rampaging in it. Everything that could hide a person had been violently torn apart and thrown onto the ground.

“Looks like I wasn’t needed,” he said, kicking away a small piece of cement by his feet. “But to think those bastards broke through the walls with just two missiles…!”

Chuuya clicked his teeth. Even if this was planned by Dazai, he didn’t like it one bit. The outer layer of the building was specially made to withstand at least sixty consecutive missiles! And for the protection barrier around the headquarters to be so easily blasted apart was another issue.

“It’s not surprising that their weapons are more advanced than ours. They don’t have a city like Yokohama to protect them in America, so the developments of their technologies are solely focused on weapons,” Dazai hummed, “Though they were still discovered and hunted for human experimentation.”

Chuuya frowned at that. He has heard of too many similar stories in the outside world.

Despite the seemingly peaceful relationship they have with Japan, the rest of the world treated Old Humans very differently. For one, the knowledge of Old Humans isn’t known to the whole world. Their existence had always been top secret in Japan and kept from the rest of the world. It’s only in the last century that it was no longer a state secret.

As society became more and more stable, there were always curious eyes turned towards the mysterious city. So occasionally, Yokohama would invite a selected few inside, allowing only one to walk back out and deliver information.

This was the only way to get those nosy governments to get rid of any weird ideas about Yokohama—like reclaiming it for example. By showing Yokohama as a threat, the Japanese government wouldn’t move recklessly, especially when they still have the issue of Villains. They couldn’t afford to create another enemy, and as long as they are left alone, Yokohama has no intention of waging war against them.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for other countries. Without a base to protect them, once discovered, Old Humans will easily be captured. Abilities are extremely rare and even if they were powerful, they cannot fight while protecting a whole community.

“If that’s the case, then won’t they blast the entire city to the ground?”

“They won’t,” Dazai replied with certainty, “Even if their technology in weaponry is a tad higher than ours, Fitzgerald isn’t stupid enough to think we won’t have a countermeasure against large scale attacks. And even if he is, he knows he won’t find what he’s looking for if the entire city is gone.”

Chuuya walked over to the open wall. He leaned forward, poking his head out a little so he could see the state of things below. Blue eyes sharply trailed over each man and their positions before the redhead leaned back and glanced to a torn blanket lying on the ground not far away.

“So who were the ones that took Q?” Dazai asked cheerfully. Chuuya was sure the other knew already, but responded anyway.

“It’s the two that engaged with that other apprentice of yours,” Chuuya said as he took out a small booklet from his pocket and flipped through the pages. “John Steinbeck and Howard Phillips Lovecraft. So far, we still can’t figure out what Ability the second guy has.”

“Then perhaps it’s not an Ability at all.”

“You mean he’s a Quirk user?” Chuuya didn’t believe it. After all, if that man was a Quirk user, he wouldn’t have slipped through the barrier.

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead could hear the smirk behind his boss’s lips. “After tonight, they won’t be relevant.”

Chuuya didn’t ask what that meant as he picked up the cotton blanket and headed back towards the edge. Crimson light coated his body as Chuuya activated his Ability. With a stomp of his feet, the floor beneath his feet caved in. Chuuya threw the blanket around his body as he fell towards the ground.

The sight of the baby blue blanket falling attracted the attention of the men stationed nearby. They raised their guns and circled the blanket that had a bulge in the middle. One of the men stepped forward, gripping the corner of the blanket and ripping it away only to find that it was a piece of concrete.

To be sure, the men searched around the area. After making sure there wasn't anything suspicious, they returned to their posts.

Perched on a nearby tree, a certain Executive watched the sight with narrowed eyes.

“Bunch of morons. I’ll deal with them after this is over,” he muttered darkly before he turned and darted off. He easily made it across the street, undetected by the Port Mafia underlings that were on watch.

The more of them he successfully evaded, the more the redhead felt his blood boil. It seemed their training had been too lax. He'll need to have a long talk with Kouyou about creating a new program after this entire mess got cleaned up.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a quick scan of his fingerprint, the phone lit up with a map on the screen. Chuuya stared at the blinking red dot that was rapidly approaching. He looked towards that direction just in time to catch a blur of white darting across the street before it was gone.

“Dazai.”

“Yes, love?” Dazai’s voice whispered gently into his ear.

“If this plan of yours doesn’t work, I will kill Q.”

“Of course.”

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Present

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“Who are you?” the child asked as mismatched eyes looked at the group of twenty people standing there.

They were all stunned at the sight of such a young girl—or perhaps a boy? Either way, this didn’t seem to be a place where they would find a child.

They automatically looked around, hoping to find the kid’s parents, but couldn’t see another soul in sight.

“We’re just some people who are a bit lost,” Uraraka laughed as she crouched down to get to the child’s height. “What about you? Where’s your mom and dad?”

“Mom and dad?” the child hummed, needing to take some time to think over that question before smiling back at them. “I don’t have one.”

“E-eh?” Uraraka’s jaw dropped. This was an answer neither she nor her classmates had expected. She frantically waved her hands as guilt consumed her. “I’m so sorry! I-I had no idea!”

"Sorry?" the child tested the word as if it was something foreign to them. "Why?"

Uraraka blinked as her hands stopped in midair.

Why? Why what?

However, she couldn’t ask that, as she had already stepped on a landmine. Fortunately, Asui came up to save her.

“Do you have anyone looking after you?” she questioned with a finger to her lips.

“I do!” the child chirped brightly, but then saddened as they slowly swung their legs back and forth. “But I got lost…”

“Do you know their phone number?” Iida asked, already pulling out his phone, “I’ll call them for you.”

“I don’t know...” the child replied, looking unconcerned over not remembering their guardian’s contact number. “But it’s fine! He’ll find me. He always does!”

Everyone exchanged looks. They were all skeptical about this. During their way to the bar, the latter half of their trip was void of any people. No matter how they looked at it, this area was filled with factories and warehouses. Why in the world was there a child so young here all alone in the middle of the night?

Didn’t anyone know how dangerous it was?

"Maybe his dad brought him to the bar or something and forgot about him," Mineta whispered, only to be stabbed in the eyeball by an earphone jack.

"Let's wait around for a bit," Midoriya suggested. “Maybe his guardian is looking around for him.”

"Ah…there goes our curfew time," Kaminari whined jokingly. He understood that finding this kid's guardian takes priority over everything else. He looked around the empty street, “What if they never show up?”

"We can always call the police afterward," Tokoyami stated.

Midoriya walked up to the child and knelt in front of them with the friendliest smile he could muster. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, what’s your name?”

“I’m Kyuusaku!” the kid replied. Those symbol-carrying eyes looked Midoriya up and down, scanning over his body before the kid brightened even more. “You’re the one that broke your arms and legs!”

Arms and legs?

Midoriya recalled the foreigner he met when he was handing out the flyers earlier today. “You watched the Sports Festival?”

Everyone was surprised, but then remembered that the people here had access to the outside channels.

“So you watch the Sports Festival!” Kaminari laughed as he crouched down in front of the kid and pointed at himself. “Then do you remember me?”

Kyuusaku shook his head, still smiling so brightly that Kaminari didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“….Don’t mind," Asui patted his shoulder.

"Did you enjoy the Sports festival?" Jirou asked.

Kyuusaku nodded, “It looked really fun! I wish I could play too…”

“Oh! Do you wish to become a Hero in the future?” Iida asked excitedly.

“Hero?” Kyuusaku blinked. They stared at Iida with wide eyes before the child suddenly burst out into laughter, as if Iida had spoken the most hilarious joke they’ve ever heard. “No way!”

Everyone just stared at the child in confusion, then to each other. None of them were able to understand the joke.

“Big brother, do you like Stain?” Kyuusaku asked, mismatched eyes locking onto Iida.

Everyone froze at the name none of them had expected to hear coming out of this kid's mouth. They automatically looked towards Iida, whose face had darkened at the memories of the Villain flickering through his mind.

“Of course we don’t like Stain!” Sero exclaimed, drawing the kid’s attention to him. “He’s a bad guy!”

“Bad guy?” Kyuusaku tilted their head cutely. “Why?”

“Because he does bad things," Sato explained.

“Like what?” the kid pushed on, not noticing the discomfort the teenagers were feeling. There was only pure curiosity on the child’s face.

“Well, like—” Kirishima swiftly caught himself and stopped talking. He couldn’t possibly talk about killing in front of a kid, but even without the redhead saying it out loud, the child already knew the answer.

Kyuusaku smiled at the redhead and finished the words for him. “Like killing?”

Everyone stared at the child who had spoken of killing with such a happy expression.

"Yes…like killing," Yaoyorozu said slowly, eyes darting to her classmates.

“But don’t Heroes kill people too?” Kyuusaku then asked.

“Of course not! Heroes don’t kill people!” Midoriya defended.

At that, Kyuusaku looked genuinely confused as they turned to Midoriya. “So when Heroes fight Villains, they hold back their strength?”

“Well, no—”

“So you don’t hold back?” the boy asked, not even bothering to wait for Sato to finish.

"When Heroes fight, we use our strength to save people," Iida told the boy. "It's not about holding back or not."

“So you fight with all your strength?” Kyuusaku giggled. “Then how do you know you won’t kill the bad people?”

Some of the students opened their mouths but found that they couldn't answer the question.

"I saw a bad person die on TV. He died when fighting Heroes." Kyuusaku told them, still smiling.

“That’s not killing,” Todoroki tried to explain.

“But someone died?”

"Yes, but those are accidents," Shouji told the boy. “It couldn’t be helped. In a fight against Villains, there are always innocent bystanders getting caught in between. A Hero’s job is to—”

“But killing is killing,” the kid stated. “No matter what reason it is, you still killed someone.”

“Kyuusaku-chan…do you like Stain?” Yaoyorozu couldn't help but ask. The child's thought process was so…well, weird. How could a child talk about killing so easily? No, it’s because they’re a child that they didn’t understand the gravity of what their words meant. Considering the amount of influence the Hero Killer brought, Yaoyorozu wouldn't be surprised if Kyuusaku, much like many others in Japan, could understand Stain’s motive.

She wasn’t the only one thinking this way. Everyone else was expecting the kid to answer yes, given the conversation they just had. But to everyone’s surprise, the warm smile on Kyuusaku’s face dropped for the first time. On that kid’s face was an expression of pure confusion as those large eyes blinked up at them.

"No," Kyuusaku answered, as if it should be obvious. “He’s just a murderer that needed excuses to kill people. Why would I like him?”

Kyuusaku’s voice and tone were purely innocent. There was no mockery, no laughter…nothing. The child’s voice only held confusion over why they even asked that.

Everyone was taken back by the child’s response. Never had they heard anyone describe Stain like that. When Stain’s name first came around, the only things discussed were his actions and the current state of Heroes. There had been many debates over whether or not Stain’s actions were right, but so blatantly calling Stain a murderer was…something else.

“Kyuusaku-chan, what do you mean by that?” Asui asked with a frown on her lips.

“Isn’t it true though?” Kyuusaku jumped down from the bench and landed onto their feet. A bright smile lifted the corner of their lips. “He just wants to kill, yet he justified his actions by making a grand excuse. Isn’t that funny?”

“Justified…?” Midoriya stared at Kyuusaku. What is this kid even talking about?

The rest of the class wasn’t doing any better. They stared at the kid strangely as if they couldn’t understand the words coming from the kid’s mouth. This was no longer weird—it wasn’t normal.

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Kyuusaku suddenly changed the topic as they walked up to the U.A students. “I haven’t played a game in a long time! Won’t you play with me?”

Midoriya opened and closed his mouth. He was still trying to wrap his head around what this child had just said.

“S-sure, what do you want to play?” Hagakure hurriedly asked when the silence dragged on for a bit too long.

Everyone was now looking at the child weirdly. There was something not right with this kid. Despite that, none of them saw Kyuusaku as a threat. What they were beginning to worry about was this child’s environment.

Just what kind of environment gave the child such a skewed viewpoint? Kyuusaku did say they don’t have parents, but what about the guardian? Was this child perhaps neglected?

Many of them were already compensating on whether or not to call the police, but then Kyuusaku spoke.

“Let’s play tag!”

“Oh! Tag! That’s a great game!” Sero laughed, trying to brighten the weird tension in the air. “I’m super good at tag!”

“We can play in that park!” Ashido said, pointing to the park right next to them. Even if there weren’t any cars around, playing on the street was still dangerous.

“Alright! Who will be it?” Kaminari asked as he looked around.

“What’s an it?” Kyuusaku suddenly asked, causing everyone to look at the child in surprise.

“Kyuusaku-chan, have you not played tag before?” Asui asked carefully.

The young child shook their head, “I’ve only seen other people play it.”

“…I haven’t either.” Todoroki suddenly spoke up, frowning as he looked at the child.

Everyone stared between Todoroki and Kyuusaku while Midoriya’s eyes widened.

He looked over to the young kid. Could it be that this child had a similar childhood to Todoroki? No, rather than saying it's similar, it's more like…

“The it is the person that catches the other people," Ojiro explained as he walked up to crouch by the child. "They catch people by tapping them. If you get tagged by the it, you’re out.”

“What happens when you’re out?” Kyuusaku asked.

“Then you have to sit and wait until the it catches everyone. After that, the game restarts.” Tokoyami finished the explanation.

“Then I want to be it!” Kyuusaku said happily before reaching their hand out and tapping Ojiro on the shoulder. “You’re out!”

No one bothered to correct the child on how they should be given time to run. The moment Kyuusaku announced this, everyone ran off, squealing and giggling like little kids. Ojiro just laughed as he scratched his cheek, not minding how quickly he got thrown out of the game.

“Do I have to run after them?” Kyuusaku blinked as they watched the older kids run away.

“Yes, if you want to catch them?” Ojiro replied unsurely. "You don't like to run?"

"No, it's just running hurts," Kyuusaku replied. They didn’t sound sad or anything…just stating a fact.

Ojiro’s eyes automatically dropped to the child’s legs. Since the kid was wearing shorts, he was able to get a good look at slender legs lacking any form of muscle. Aside from the kid being a little thin, there didn't seem to be anything wrong. Maybe they sprained their ankle? Was that why they were sitting on a bench?

Believing that he had found the answer, Ojiro turned to his classmates who were scattered on the grass. They hadn’t gone far and were all waiting for the child to begin chasing them.

“Come on, Kyuusaku-chan!” Uraraka called as she waved her hand at them.

“Guys!” Ojiro called, successfully grabbing their attention.

“What’s wrong, man?” Kirishima asked, about to walk up when he stepped on a tiny twig lying in the grass.

Snap

“…!”

Ojiro heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned and saw Kyuusaku standing there, trembling with wide eyes locked on Kirishima. Those irises were dilated and unsteady…there were even droplets of sweats rolling down the kid’s face despite how chilly the night was.

Those small hands were gripping onto his doll so tightly that they were shaking and white around the knuckles.

“Kyuusaku…?” Ojiro called out gently, but the kid didn’t even seem to have heard him. Their breathing was growing faster and faster. The time between each breath was also getting dangerously short, to the point where Ojiro thought they might hyperventilate.

The other kids noticed this as well and they all began to run over. Their footsteps thundered across the grass and somewhere amongst those footsteps, another twig snapped, causing the boy to completely freeze in place, his breathing stopped altogether.

“Kyuusaku?” Ojiro reached out both hands and grabbed the child’s forearms, hoping to snap the kid out of whatever shock they were in. The moment his hands made contact, he felt something very wrong. There were multiple hard objects under his palms sinking into the kid’s arms from the pressure of his grip.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Kyuusaku suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream, pushing Ojiro away and stumbled back, clutching onto the doll even tighter.

“NOOO!!!” They shrieked, voice cracking as pale fingers sank into the fabric of the doll, pulling on the surface of the fabric so hard that some of the white stuffing was being squeezed out. “NO! NO! NOOOO!!!”

“Kyuusaku-chan?!” Yaoyorozu wanted to approach, but was afraid she might agitate the child even more.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya spoke loudly, hoping his voice could be heard through the child’s screams.

“IT’s aLL YouR fAuLt!!” Kyuusaku screamed, face morphing into what could only be described as pure malice. The doll trapped in his grip was beginning to move, but no one noticed as their eyes were all locked on the child’s face.

“I’LL cUrsE yOU! I’ll CURSE—!!”

“Q!!”

A voice bellowed from the distance, causing Kyuusaku to freeze up.

For a long moment, nobody could move. They all stared at Kyuusaku with cold sweat rolling down their faces.

What…what was that?

What exactly was that?

The sound of footsteps slowly brought the students back. One by one, they turned around to see a person emerging from the dark alleyway. He was covered in a long, black leather coat with white fur around the base of his collar.

Silvery white hair fluttered in the gentle breeze as the person slowly stepped into the light. They couldn’t see much of his face, as half of it was covered by his coat’s tall collar, but the way those golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim streetlight was unnerving.

He looked young… not much older than Class 1-A.

“A…Atsushi!” Kyuusaku seemed terrified as they clenched onto the old doll.

"What were you going to do, Q?" the white-haired boy questioned.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Kyuusaku gasped, sounding desperate as they ran up to the young man. They reached out a small hand and gripped onto his black coat. “I wasn’t, so—”

When those golden eyes narrowed, Kyuusaku swallowed down the rest of the words. They clutched the doll tighter to their chest and spoke in a desperate voice.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! So…don’t leave me!”

The white-haired boy’s gaze softened a little before shifting to the students.

“Thank you for taking care of this child. I apologize for the trouble,” he said, nodding in their direction before turning to leave.

“Wait!”

Upon being called, the man stopped and turned around. His golden eyes met with Midoriya’s green ones.

“Are you…” Midoriya hesitated, eyes darting down to Kyuusaku then back to the stranger. “Kyuusaku’s guardian?”

“I am,” the other replied naturally. That didn’t seem to be a lie…and from how Kyuusaku interacted with this man, he was most likely the child’s guardian. However, it was precisely because of this that Midoriya needed to stop them.

"Do you have any identification to prove that you're that child's guardian?" Iida asked, looking at the man with a face full of distrust.

No matter how they looked at it, that interaction just now wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a conversation any ordinary kid would have with their guardian. Kyuusaku was terrified of this man, yet the way they still begged not to be thrown aside was raising red flags in all of their heads.

The images of Kyuusaku’s crazed look were still fresh in their minds, but that only fueled their desire and need to protect this young child. Anyone could tell by now that the kid’s mental stability wasn’t, well, stable. The cause may very well be this person right there.

“Proof?” The man raised a fine brow as those golden eyes shifted to Iida. The moment their eyes met, Iida felt a droplet of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He didn’t know why, but something wasn’t right with this person.

“…There is no need for me to prove anything to you,” the white-haired boy said calmly. He turned again and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Kirishima called, but the other didn’t stop. He just kept on walking with Kyuusaku by his side.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!!” Bakugou roared. He knew he needed to stop them. Something wasn’t right about that guy. He couldn’t let him take the kid. “We’re not done speaking!”

“Don’t yell at Atsushi!” Kyuusaku suddenly spun around and shouted. Those eyes were glaring murderously at Bakugou who stopped in his tracks.

Bakugou was stunned. He couldn’t understand why the kid would defend this man who terrified them like that.

“Q, we’re leaving,” the boy known as Atsushi called. He didn’t look back and continued to walk away, not caring about the group of teenagers behind him.

Kyuusaku ran back to his side, one hand gripping onto the older boy’s jacket as they walked down the abandoned street. From the shadow of the alleyway Atsushi had emerged from, a dagger soundlessly slid back into its sheath as a figure slowly stepped back and vanished into the darkness.

Class 1-A could only watch as the young man and the child disappeared from their sight. None of them were able to stop them.

“We…we have to call sensei!” Aoyama all but screamed after they lost sight of the pair.

“No matter how you look at it, that’s not normal,” Jirou agreed.

“I’m calling right now!” Iida was way ahead of his classmates as he opened his phone, pausing at the contact list. Who should they call? Their teachers? But their teachers were outsiders as well, would they be able to do anything?

So Iida chose the most obvious choice and clicked on Kunikida’s contact. The blond man was the one they were most familiar with. Iida was certain he could save Kyuusaku.

“What’s wrong, Ojiro?” Shouji asked when he noticed Ojiro was still sitting on the floor, the same position he had been in since Kyuusaku pushed him away.

Ojiro didn’t reply, his head dipped low as he stared down at his own hands. When everyone else looked to his hands, they paled at the sight of red fluid covering both of his palms.

“Ojiro-kun! What happened to your hands?!” Midoriya was horrified by the amount of blood that was there.

“It’s not my blood!” Ojiro explained, voice quivering slightly. "When Kyuusaku was screaming, I tried to get him to calm down and gripped his arms, I—"

Ojiro was quickly calming down as he recalled the feeling of what he felt underneath the child’s sleeves. Whatever those were, they were sharp and all over the kid’s arms. No, rather, it felt like his hands were the ones that made those sharp objects sink into the child's flesh.

He quickly explained that to the others.

“Back then…Kyuusaku said that running hurts.” Ojiro felt sick as he finally realized what was wrong. It wasn’t the child’s legs that were hurting, it was his upper body that was hidden beneath his coat. “We have to find him, he might be in danger!”

They should have realized sooner just how incongruent everything about Kyuusaku was!

“Kunikida-san?” Iida spoke and everyone turned to see him on the phone with Kunikida. “We need help! There’s a child and— where are we? Uh…” Iida began looking around, but couldn’t see any road signs indicating their location.

“I know!” Kaminari said as he fumbled with the paper map he used to lead them to the bar.

Iida turned the phone to speaker mode and turned it towards his classmate.

“We’re on—!” Before Kaminari could say the address, Kunikida began to speak.

“That’s alright, I can see where you are on the map,” the blond stated from the other end. “I am not going to start with why all of you are even there. You have forty minutes to come back. I won’t be explaining to your teachers if you miss your curfew time.”

“Kunikida-san! There’s a kid that’s hurt and got taken away by a strange man!” Ashido explained.

“He could be a human trafficker!” Aoyama joined in the background.

“A kid was taken by a strange man?” They could all hear the frown on Kunikida’s face. “By force?”

“No, they walked away together but—” Todoroki tried to pipe in, but was interrupted by Kunikida.

“Forget it.”

“Eh?” Ashido blinked, as if unable to believe she had heard right. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant.” Kunikida said on the other end. “If you don’t know how to get back, stay put. I’ll come to get you.”

“Wait!” Midoriya yelled. “There’s an injured child who might be in danger!”

A sigh came from the other end of the line.

“Yokohama is not the outside world,” Kunikida reminded the group. “Don't stick your nose into places where it doesn't belong.”

“That’s got nothing to do with anything!” Bakugou shouted. “Did you not hear a fucking word we said?! There’s a kid—”

“And I’m telling you to forget about this kid,” the man sighed “Use your brains, would any ordinary kid appear in such an isolated place so late at night?"

“That’s why we need to help!” Yaoyorozu said, as if it was the most obvious thing. “Something isn’t right and that child could be in danger! He’s bleeding!”

Another sigh. “You know what, this is going nowhere. Just stay there and don’t move around. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Click

Just like that, Kunikida hung up, leaving the kids staring in shock and disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou hollered, voicing out everyone’s thoughts in three short words.

Iida gritted his teeth, hands gripping tightly onto his phone before he began dialing again.

“What are you doing?” Tokoyami asked.

“The police!” Iida answered, typing in the numbers before putting the phone over his ear. He reached the helpline fairly quickly. Everyone watched hopefully as Iida explained the situation to the operator.

“It’s Kyuusaku, sir!” Iida said into the phone. “Surname? I don’t know...gender? A boy maybe? No, I don’t know for sure—we just met in the park!”

Iida seemed to be panicking as he struggled to converse with the other side. Everyone just watched as his responses grew weaker and weaker.

“Well, yes, that person claimed to be their guardian but—…yes…yes…they left together.” After that, Iida didn’t say anything. He just waited for the other side to finish before he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear.

“They…” Iida opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could finally utter the words. “They said they can’t do anything.”

“What…do you mean?” Uraraka asked. “A child’s being taken—”

“Kyuusaku-kun walked away by himself," Iida told everyone. "And that person said he’s Kyuusaku-kun’s guardian. The operator said the police won’t get involved unless we can provide proof that he was being taken away against his will.”

“What?!” Ashido was outraged. “What kind of response is that?!”

“How can…are we just going to let it happen?!” Sato spluttered.

For the first time since arriving, the kids felt the malice within Yokohama. This was wrong! This whole city was wrong! How could they all turn a blind eye to someone—a child — that needed help? No matter how they looked at it, it’s just not normal!

“I’m going.” Midoriya suddenly announced.

“Deku-kun?!” Uraraka gasped.

“Kyuusaku needs help, and I can’t turn a blind eye to it,” he said as his hands rolled into tight fists. Questions flooded through his mind as he kept replaying their conversation with Kunikida.

Why?

Why did he refuse to help even when there was someone in need of help? Wasn’t the Armed Detective Agency there to help people?

Midoriya didn’t understand, but one thing that’s clear was that no one was going to save Kyuusaku.

“It might be dangerous!” Aoyama whimpered. “Kunikida-san told us to stay put, and we can’t use our Quirks!”

“I’m just going to follow them and find out where they went,” Midoriya explained. “If I can find their location, then we can call the police and have them do something, right?”

“That’s true,” Sero agreed. “They want proof right? If they go take a look for themselves I’m sure they’ll find something wrong!”

“But you saw how Kyuusaku-chan defended that person,” Yaoyorozu pointed out.

“We can’t just do nothing!” Ojiro was the most affected by the situation due to the child’s blood staining his hands.

“I agree with Midoriya,” Todoroki said. “I’m going as well.”

“I’m coming too!” Bakugou announced, still grinding his teeth in irritation at the thought of that man. “There’s something off about that guy.”

“You guys can’t all go! You’ll get found out!” Hagakure said as she pulled off her gloves and threw them onto the floor. “How about this, I’ll go with Midoriya-kun! Since they can’t see me, I can scout the area without getting seen!”

“But your Quirk—” Sato began, only to get cut off.

“I’m not using my Quirk! I’m just naturally like this!”

Well, she wasn’t wrong about that.

“I’ll go with them!” Jirou said. “Even if I can’t use my quirk, I can still hear better than average people.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Shouji walked over to Midoriya. “If anything happens, I can take everyone and run.”

“Then I’ll—” Kirishima also wanted to volunteer, but was stopped by Bakugou.

“Any more and the enemy will notice, stupid,” he pointed out.

“We have enemies now?” the blond gaped.

“Thank you, Shouji-kun, Hagakure-san, Jirou-san,” Midoriya thanked the three. He knew he was being selfish, and he knew that it was going to be dangerous. Whoever that white haired male was, Midoriya could tell he wasn’t anyone ordinary.

Everyone else knew as well, that’s why none of them could turn a blind eye to Kyuusaku’s situation.

“Fifteen minutes,” Iida finally gritted out. Anyone could tell he strongly disapproved of it, but he also wanted to save Kyuusaku more than anyone else. “If you don’t come back in fifteen minutes, we will call the teachers and Kunikida-san.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya nodded.

“Here, take this phone.” Yaoyorozu held out her phone. “It seems there are trackers on the phone for Kunikida-san to find us. I’ve turned off the sound just in case. If anything happens, we can find you.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Jirou said as she took the phone.

Ashido also handed the phone she carried to Hagakure, while Midoriya and Shouji took out their own phones and muted them.

“Don’t do anything dangerous, ok?” Uraraka told them.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you guys know it!” Hagakure said cheerfully, though no one could see her aside from the pair of shoes still on her feet.

Just like that, the four of them took off, running towards where the man had disappeared off to with Kyuusaku.

As the rest of the class watched them go, Asui let out a small croak from the back of her throat and looked up to the cloudy sky. A cold droplet of water came out of nowhere and fell onto her left cheek.

“Gero?”

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#bsd crossover #soukoku #shin soukoku #dazai x chuuya #mha fanfiction #bnha crossover

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dayseternal-blog · 5 years

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A NaruHina Hanahaki AU

Summary: She knit a red scarf for him. She never gave it to him. Days turned into months, months turned into too late.

Naruto starts dating. Hinata decides to move on.

A sickness takes root in the heart.

Inspired by SasuSaku fanfic “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake

Rating: Mature

Read Chapter 1 - Introduction: Smoke on her tongue.

Read Chapter 2 - He’s not a ghost.

Chapter 3: Weeds

Memories from that day replay over and over.

Each time fills her with remorse.

She could have responded to Naruto in so many different ways. “What are you doing?” “What’s wrong?” “Maybe another time.” Or just, “We’re sorry for bothering you.”

She didn’t have to get so upset.

Yet she can still justify herself. She knows why she was so upset. It just felt so unfair.

She was perfectly friendly to Rumi. She could have been hostile. She could have snubbed Rumi.

But why did Naruto do that?

She refuses to believe Susumu. That would tear her apart.

Really, why did Naruto do that?

It’s not fair.

But he still didn’t deserve that from her. Even though she doesn’t want to be just a friend, Naruto has always been a good friend to her. He has always listened to her, always taken the time to encourage her, always been her inspiration.

Unable to take the guilt, she readies herself to talk to him. She’ll apologize. She’ll be a good friend. She can be a great friend to him.

She knows she can get used to it.

She has to get used to it.

She needs to be okay with him.

It’s easy to find him. He’s right at the bottom of his apartment, and based off of his gait, he doesn’t seem to be in a real rush.

She makes her way to him, eventually jumping down before him.

He stops and stares at her.

It’s gut-wrenching to see him looking at her so warily.

She takes a few shallow breaths to gather herself together. “...Naruto-kun,” she starts. “Do you have a moment?”

He blinks. Then nods slightly.

She steps a little closer, and she’s glad that he doesn’t angle away from her.

His expression is guarded, but his body language shows that he’s still open to hear what she has to say.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason. Please accept my apology.” She bows, hoping that he sees how sincere she is.

“Hinata,” he calls, and she doesn’t miss how there’s a force behind it, as if he’s remorseful, too.

She raises her head, hoping for an explanation, any explanation at all that would erase Susumu’s words.

But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking somewhere over her, his gaze conflicted, his expression troubled.

“Naruto-kun?”

His gaze slowly settles back down on her. “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

“Susumu-kun?” she clarifies, noting that Naruto really, for some reason, doesn’t like her boyfriend.

“Yeah. Susumu,” he responds shortly.

The question and the answer she knows she has to say hurt so much more in front of him. She’s never felt more acutely than now that...she’s lying. But this, too, is a step in moving on, right? “I like him,” she says quietly. “He’s nice to me.”

Naruto returns to staring at her, directly into her eyes. He can see right through her, she knows. “...He’s nice to you?” His voice is almost as small as a whisper.

“Yes.” She can tell that he doesn’t believe her. Perhaps Naruto was just being protective. “He is. He’s almost too nice.”

He looks away, his eyes turn down to the ground. “...You really like him?” he repeats, and suddenly, he’s staring at her again, piercingly steady.

She feels it. The way he’s watching her, solely focused on her with azure eyes that can pick her apart, turn every piece of her over and leave no place untouched. Search the very truth of her heart…

And then she realizes it.

He could always see her love for him. He just...never responded to it.

She turns her gaze down, not knowing what to say. He knew? He knew and just… Why. A question for everything. Why won’t he let her try to move on?

“But you want to be with him,” he states, voice low.

She sees that she doesn’t even have to answer, and he already knows what she means in her silence. If Naruto knows her love for him, if he has always known, if he knew he could never return her feelings, then why does he sound unhappy?

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun,” she manages to reply, her throat closing up. Were introducing her to his girlfriends, was it all just a nice way for him to reject her?

He stays silent for a long while, and she can see his feet shifting, feel his eyes trained on the top of her head.

And then he’s not there anymore.

She looks up.

He’s gone.

She lets tears fill her eyes then, and she quickly returns home.

Throughout the week, she reflects on their conversation, feeling for once, a bit of closure.

Naruto has said it before to her. That he can see her emotions in her eyes. How could that not include her love for him?

He never addressed her feelings, and that’s probably because he didn’t know how to reject her. She thought maybe he forgot or didn’t notice.

Things make a lot more sense to her now.

Why he always treated her differently. Why he was always nicer to her compared to everyone else. Why he seemed to always take the time to talk to her, compliment her, encourage her.

He just didn’t want to hurt her.

He didn’t mean to give her hope.

And with that mentality, he probably was just overprotective concerning Susumu.

Naruto really is kind.

She’s glad she apologized.

She’s glad he never rejected her outright. How much more would it hurt to hear those words of rejection?

And she’s definitely glad she never forced her feelings on him, never gave him that scarf.

She takes the gift out of her lowest drawer and smoothes her hand over the stitches. Each one a prayer from her heart. Each one a fervent wish that he might accept her feelings.

To put something so heavy with the weight of her love in his hands, around his neck, when he never wanted it...that would just be a burden.

She clenches her fingers into the soft, red yarns.

She cries, not caring as her tears fall wet on the threads.

She promises herself that this is the last time.

The very last time she’ll cry over him.

When she puts it away in her closet, wrapped and sealed carefully in tissue in a box of mothballs, she thinks maybe...maybe she can finally move on.

For their date, Susumu suggested a spar.

She thinks he must have a knack for good timing. She’s felt a numbness throughout since she put her childhood love away, and the kick of adrenaline in a friendly match may be exactly what she needs to make her feel alive again. Facing off against a mid- to long-range fighter would present a much needed change of pace and challenge to take her mind off of other things.

They face off at the fourth training ground, one of her favorites for its fairly small lake closely surrounded by trees, perfect for chakra control exercises. It was his suggestion as a fire-style user, to keep possibilities of burn injuries and general destruction as low as possible. She accepted, considering it fair enough since she doesn’t have any water affinity.

“What are the guidelines?” he asks, again letting her make the final calls. She knows it’s to be chivalrous. It irks her just a little.

“We have to stay on the water or in the trees. It’s an automatic loss if you fall in the water or on the ground.”

“No weapons?” he suggests.

“No weapons,” she agrees.

They separate to place themselves on opposite sides of the lake. A single step on the water signals the start.

She doesn’t waste any time trying to close the distance between them. She runs, letting her agility catch him off-guard.

As she expected, he immediately jumps up into an overhanging tree and releases a blast of fire her way, forcing her to stop and guard herself with her Shugohakke.

The onslaught of fire eventually dissipates, clearing, revealing him standing on the tree, seemingly waiting for her to make the next move, even though he has the tactical advantage.

“You’re going easy on me,” she accuses him, though she also knows that he’s just trying to get a feel for her.

“So are you,” he says, tapping below his temple.

She smiles at that. “Byakugan. Mizuhari.” She pulses chakra out of her, upsetting the water. She molds her chakra around the drops, forming them into projections as sharp as senbon.

He clears the initial onslaught with fire, the steam blinding him for a second.

She sends more his way, forcing him to jump back onto the water, and she doesn’t let up.

In a show of daring, he stops his fleeing to face her, hands flying through signs. A giant dragon of flames twists into being, eating through the water senbon, and she knows now that he’s taking her a little more seriously.

She’s forced to somersault back, costing her some dearly earned meters, and she dissipates the dragon in her Shugohakke once more. Embers fall to the lake, sending up trails of smoke before her. She doesn’t wait for it to clear, instead running ahead to gain back the distance.

But he back handsprings away, maintaining his advantage. “That technique of yours is bothersome,” he calls to her.

Her defensive technique of her design, impenetrable to all jutsu. “Did you expect me to be in the water by now?” she retorts.

He smiles as an answer, forming hand seals. Demon-shaped heads of blue fire appear around him, the very energy of the jutsu ominous.

She knows now that he’s on the offensive. That only now they’re really getting started.

He sends the demons flying toward her.

She aerials around the heads of fire, yet they follow her closely, and she knows he’s purposely keeping her away from him. She knows that if this continues, she doesn’t stand a chance. She needs to get within taijutsu radius before she runs out of stamina. She lets the fire come close before spinning into a Kaiten to quickly dissipate them. With remnant fire still swirling around her, she re-concentrates her chakra to form around sharp water vortexes, and sends them spearing toward Susumu.

He skips back, quickly spitting out balls of fire to halt the path of the water senbon, and she takes advantage of the distraction.

As he’s right about to try to re-establish their distance, she manages to blast him with focused chakra from her palm.

The force throws him across the lake, but he extends his hand to the water, slowing himself until he can properly push off and back tuck to standing.

She smiles, proud that she got first hit, but she knows he’s not moving as quickly as he should be. His response times are slower than expected for a jounin. Plus, he has yet to use his earth techniques. He’s still going easy on me. She quickly chases after him as he skips backward, spewing fire at her. But she’s done with fighting him from afar.

She warps chakra around her fists into her signature lions, using them to shield her through the barrage of fire, and finally manages to close the distance. She swipes a fist toward him, the edges of her jutsu barely flowing over his skin, but it’s enough to siphon chakra from his arm.

A short groan escapes his throat. He presses his undamaged hand to the water, and suddenly, she’s hurtling up into the air upon a column of mud.

Before she can lose her balance, she jumps off the column.

Yet just as quickly, mud and rocks solidly knock her midair, sending her chest-first toward the water.

She manages to catch herself one-handed, flipping right side up into a crouch. Pain blooms up her arm and side from the force of the blow that likely left her with bruises and scratches. She refocuses on him, but almost catches his hand signs too late.

Another dragon rises, this one made of mud and forest debris. He directs the monstrosity high above her, it’s mouth and eyes focused down at her. Then it falls, the full weight of it bearing directly on top of her. Its tail snakes around her.

She spins into the Kaiten, but this time, she realizes it’s too much for her. She can feel her grip on the water breaking, the mass of the dragon too much for her to balance while performing one of her clan’s most difficult techniques. Her feet dip into the water, and she knows it’s her loss. She allows herself to sink below into the lake, and the dragon, whatever is left of it, falls apart.

Globs of mud pelt through the surface. She swims back up, getting a good breath of air.

Susumu is already there offering her his hand.

Gratefully, she takes it and lets him pull her back to the surface.

Together they head to the shore and lean against a shady tree.

She notices that he’s just as out of breath as she is.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” he asks, looking her over.

“I’m fine. What about you?” She nods at his stomach, where her Hakke Kuushou hit him.

“It’ll be alright.”

After a minute of rest, she brings up what was bothering her for the whole match. “You weren’t trying to seriously win until the very end.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You hardly touched me,” she mutters unhappily. “...And you were letting me hit you. I know you can move faster than that.”

His smile pulls down, a blush rises.

She furrows her brow at his strange expression. “I don’t need that much chance. Are you looking down on me?”

“Ah...no, no.” He shakes his head and denies quietly, rather than vehemently. It’s odd.

“What do you have to say for yourself then?” she asks in mock-seriousness and curiosity. She doesn’t like how the match went, but in the end, she still lost, so she can’t really be mad at him for going easy on her at the start.

He raises a hand to his mouth, his fingers rubbing at the redness on one cheek. His gaze averts as if thinking of a memory. “You were just really cool to watch.”

She blinks at him.

“I was a little distracted with watching you.” He looks at her apologetically. “It was unintentional. Please forgive me. In any future spars, I’ll try harder to focus.”

She can hear how sincere he is. His compliment, for the first time, makes her blush in embarrassment. Her eyes turn down. “From watching me?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah. Seeing you come out unharmed with flames falling around you, steam everywhere, was pretty..hot.”

Her jaw drops a little, and she gapes at him, embarrassment replaced by sudden discomposure. “Susumu-kun!” she scolds. She’s never been called “hot” in her life, and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. The adjective feels almost intrusive, invasive, definitely not suitable for someone like her. “Don’t say things like that!” She hugs herself and frowns, tempering the heat at her neck.

He just grins widely at her. A reaction she doesn’t like.

She covers her face, unable to handle seeing him looking at her, and sinks to the ground to kneeling. “Don’t ever say that again,” she murmurs through her hands.

She can sense him drop to sitting beside her. He sighs. “I’m being serious, Hinata. Fighting against the Byakugan is really something else...” When she doesn’t respond, he continues, “If I hadn’t given you that Dosekiryuu at the end, I would’ve had to engage with you in hand-to-hand combat. Even if I wasn’t running out of chakra, we both know how that would have turned out.”

She peeks at him from her hands with a question. Is he implying that I would have won in taijutsu?

“I saw your late cousin’s Hakke Rokujuuyon Shou before. There’s no evading it.”

She smiles slightly at the mention of Neji. She can still vividly remember his graceful, deadly power. She’s not sure if she’s caught up to him by now. Neji will always be one of her role models. “Well, you never know. You still might have won.”

He shakes his head.

They sit there for longer, listening to the breeze blow through the leaves above them. In each other’s quiet company, she can hear the birds chirping, the snap and whine of tree branches in the wind, the rustle of the undergrowth.

It’s so different from Naruto’s company...the easy conversation that could leap from random back-and-forth to Naruto’s endless, one-sided storytelling...and the easy laughter that surprised even herself...

She wants to move on.

Her heart still aches. Terribly.

And she knows Susumu deserves better. A good guy like him deserves someone better than her.

She turns her gaze toward him.

He’s staring at the grass, expression melancholy, and she can tell they both feel the change in the air between them.

“Susumu-kun?” she asks quietly.

He meets her gaze. His shoulders and chest rise and fall in a long, silent breath. “...What do you think, Hinata? About us.”

She wants to move on. But not like this. Not by using Susumu when he’s serious about her and she’s not. Not when she doesn’t feel any desire to touch him, to spend more time with him than her friends, to get to know him intimately. She’s just not attracted to him in that way.

How can she tell him that?

She swallows her nerves. She can’t be shy about this. He deserves her best. Even if it’s the end. “I like you as a friend.” Her voice is softer, heavier than she meant it. Sadder than she ever thought she would sound.

His expression remains unchanged. He nods slightly and averts his eyes.

She watches him, ready for any questions he might have. She doesn’t want to explain anything she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t want to rub her rejection in, not when he’s made his affection so clear to her.

He nods again, gaze on the ground. He slowly rises to standing, and she gets up, too. He faces her, and the despondency across his handsome features is hard to take in.

Hard to accept that she’s the cause of that.

Hard to realize that the end came so quickly.

“I enjoyed my time with you, Hinata.”

“I did, too.” I’m sorry. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she holds it in. “Susumu-kun…” She looks up at him earnestly, hoping that he’ll be receptive to what she does want to say. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” I didn’t deserve you. You deserve better. I wish I fell for you. I wish we could be happy together. I hope you find someone perfect for you. Thank you for being my first.

His mouth twitches into something close to a smile, but not quite, before settling down once more. He takes her hands, rubbing his thumbs across her fingers, before letting her go. “Take care, Hinata.”

“You, too, Susumu-kun,” she quietly replies, realizing that she’ll never feel his hands again.

He nods a bit, a shadow cast over his face. “I’ll see you some other time.” He jumps into the trees and takes off back toward the village.

Her heart sits heavy in her chest. Her eyes burn. Her extremities feel weak. She doesn’t have the patience to sift through her feelings, so she lets them be.

Slowly she walks home.

She knows it was the right thing to do.

She knows, perhaps better than anyone, that being lead on, that thinking you have a chance, only to be disappointed, is more painful than anything. It’s a good thing that she broke up with Susumu, and that he had the foresight to talk to her.

Because if not…

She probably would have just kept dating him. Kept waiting for something to happen. Kept convincing herself that she would fall in love with him eventually.

Maybe that’s what Naruto thought, too, at first. That he might eventually feel something more for her, so he never rejected her. And well, she never really gave him a chance to properly turn her down. She never confessed again.

She can’t blame him for that.

It’s not his fault that she held onto him for so long.

It’s amazing that he still treated her as a good friend. Naruto really is so nice.

...Why can’t she stop thinking about him?

Why does she still think about him so much?

She stares at herself in the mirror.

It’s been awhile since she felt this way. Like she’s too dark. Like her hair is too severe against her skin and eyes.

She’s always liked her hair color because she inherited it from her mother.

What if she grew out her bangs and gave herself a sharper image, like Hanabi’s?

She center-parts her bangs, then flips a section of hair over her head to give an impression of elongated bangs framing her face. She frowns. It still feels wrong for her to flaunt her forehead. Even if sealing was banned three years ago.

What if she got a haircut? Would that lighten her appearance?

She bends her hair up behind her head to get an idea, and turns her head this way and that. It’s hard to tell. She might just end up looking like her genin days, like a child.

But maybe it would make her look cuter, more cheerful, like Rumi.

She lets her hair fall straight and blinks at herself in disbelief.

What is she thinking?

Getting a haircut is like a classic sign of heartbreak. Everyone would ask her if something happened.

No one knows yet that she and Susumu broke up. Most everyone seems to know she’s trying to move on from Naruto.

She should talk to someone about everything that’s happened in the last week before she does something unexpected, like drastically change her hairstyle.

Before she can mortify herself any further, she forces herself to head to the hospital, to the one friend who understands her feelings better than anyone else.

Sakura told her she would be off-duty, but she looks anything but.

Deep in the archives with an assistant, scrolls and books sorted into piles for later perusal. Sakura is obviously still in work-mode, green eyes scanning shelves and shelves for titles of interest.

“Is this a bad time?” Hinata calls out.

The medic-nin looks over. “Ahhh, is it that late already?” She bites her lip as she eyes their mess, seemingly reluctant to leave her current occupation.

“We can do this another time,” she suggests.

“No,” Sakura answers quickly, curtly. “I didn’t forget about you, Hinata. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I just lost track of the time. This can wait.” She dusts her hands off and turns to her assistant. “Then, Tomoko-chan, I’ll be leaving now. You should head home, too, since it’s getting late. We can keep looking tomorrow.”

The assistant shakes her head. “I want to do a little more research before I go home. Good work today, Sakura-san.”

“You, too, Tomoko-chan. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow!”

Sakura steps carefully around a pile of scrolls and joins her.

“Is it really okay?” Hinata asks. “It looks like you’re working on something difficult.”

She huffs a sigh. “I just need to find medical records on something. It’s not difficult, just annoying. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hinata nods, acquiescing to Sakura’s decisive attitude. The two head over to a small izakaya, one of Sakura’s go-to places that she frequents with Tsunade on late nights. It’s not a usual place for Hinata to patron, but she likes that it’s quieter than other bars and keeps to a more traditional atmosphere.

After typical small talk and orders are taken, Sakura restarts the conversation with the expected question. “How is Susumu-san doing?”

Hinata pauses, gathering her feelings, her thoughts together, before deciding to go straight to the point. “...We...broke up about a week ago.”

“Oh.” Sakura stares at her, then her gaze shifts about, obviously trying to think of an appropriate response. “...How do you feel?” she asks carefully.

It’s been several days since their spar. Several days since she’s been newly single. Several days, enough days, for her to start second-guessing her decision. And she hates herself for it. “It’s funny…” she starts quietly. “I was the one who ended things, but I still feel sad.” In the aftermath of their breakup, she’s been left with new feelings to confront. On top of trying to move on, it all just feels even more overwhelming--an outcome she hadn’t been expecting.

She looks up from her contemplation to see Sakura attentively watching her.

She continues, “I wasn’t in love with him, and...he told me he didn’t want us to keep going if I wasn’t serious.”

“Mhm...you weren’t feeling anything for him?”

She shakes her head. “But I wanted to...Susumu-kun was very nice. He was a really good person. I don’t know...if I made the right choice. I’m starting to wonder if I should have tried to give it more time.”

Sakura leans her elbow on the table, cheek resting in her hand. “...Can I ask..?” she starts somewhat hesitantly. “Is it...because of Naruto?”

The familiar, painful twist in her stomach, the wilting sensation throughout whenever his name runs to the forefront of her consciousness. “It’s so hard, Sakura-chan. I’m trying so hard to get over him,” she whispers.

The air grows still between them, filled with her confession.

Sakura’s eyes cast low, gaze unseeing on the floorboards. “I can’t imagine, Hinata. If...if Sasuke-kun were…” She frowns and sighs. “I don’t know what he’s doing or who he spends his time with, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I saw him with…”

Hinata thought she was done crying. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, but… She swallows back the tears and forces the sting to retreat from her eyes.

“You’re being so strong, Hinata,” she murmurs.

“I..I don’t think so. It’s...it’s lonely…”

Sakura frowns deeper. She tsks, a sudden fire flashing across her eyes. “He’s such an idiot. He’s really, really such an idiot.”

Hinata shakes her head in disagreement. “We both know that he isn’t.”

She just grimaces. “Hinata, I really don’t think he even likes Rumi,” she says, voice only just above a whisper.

“Sakura-chan,” she warns. The last thing she wants right now is pointless hope.

“I’m sorry...but I feel like I don’t have anyone to tell this to. I worry about him, and I worry about his girlfriend. Rumi-chan’s a nice girl, but she’s only 19, and she doesn’t know him like we do.”

“Over three months,” she murmurs. “They’ve been dating for a long time.”

Sakura makes a sound similar to a snort. “He doesn’t know what love means.”

“...I’m sure...Rumi-san is teaching him-” She feels like the air is sucked out of her.

Sakura stares at her, the green of her eyes just as sharp and analytical as usual, despite the fact that she’s already nearly finished her cup of sake. “I know you’re not much of a drinker, but Hinata, you’re drinking tonight. It’s on me.” Sakura calls over a waiter, ordering another bottle of umeshu.

She doesn’t argue with Sakura’s choice of comfort. Maybe it is what she needs. Maybe she just wants a moment for everything to tone down, her feelings to turn a muter shade, her memories and thoughts to blur and quiet for a second.

The sweet and sour plum alcohol races through her. The very smell of it makes her cheeks flush. One small cup, and she feels like a veil is settling over her mind. The thrum of her heart picks up, sending a glowing energy to everything she sees. “Thank you,” Hinata murmurs, and she feels like maybe she can smile now.

Sakura shakes her head, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. She takes another sip of her drink. “About Susumu-san, I can’t tell you if you made the right decision or not.” She looks at Hinata apologetically. “If you really want to know what I think...maybe dating was just too soon. Just...thinking about myself...I just don’t think I’d be able to date anyone seriously if they weren’t Sasuke-kun. He motivated me, he changed me, he’s a part of who I am today, and I wouldn’t be able to let go of him easily even if I tried.”

Hinata takes a long sip of her drink, hoping the burn of the alcohol carries away her feelings--feelings that are painfully too close to Sakura’s words. She puts her cup down, and takes a deep breath as the warmth spreads to her extremities. “Maybe...maybe it was too soon… but I just don’t want to feel like this anymore… It’s awful of me, I know it is, but when I was with Susumu-kun, I felt a little better...at least better than I do now. I didn’t feel as lonely when I was with him. He distracted me...from thinking about Naruto-kun.” She doesn’t like how her insides still tighten at his name. She doesn’t like how it makes her feel like she might never get over him. “Susumu-kun made me feel like I have a chance with love.”

Sakura nods, expression sympathetic. Her mouth straightens in a tight line.

Saying all of her thoughts aloud now, all of the thoughts that spiraled through her mind until they didn’t make sense, suddenly lead to a certain clarity. “What if Susumu-kun was the one for me?”

The pinkette blinks and bites her lip. “...But you said you weren’t attracted to him.”

She stares hard at her cup, picturing Susumu’s features. “But I want to be, and if I want to be, then isn’t it possible that I would eventually?”

Sakura tilts her head, frowning, in thought. She sighs. “I guess I wouldn’t know...but, Hinata.” She waits until they make eye contact to continue. “Do you really want to love him?”

The question takes her aback, and it reminds her of Naruto’s probing questions a week ago. She doesn’t know. The alcohol certainly doesn’t help, but even if she wasn’t buzzed, she doesn’t think she would be able to differentiate among everything she wants. Her reasoning, her fear, is all that she has. “I might never meet anyone as nice as Susumu-kun ever again.”

Sakura shakes her head hard. “That’s not true, Hinata, there are lots of good guys.”

Maybe there are. But she’s not sociable like Ino, not clever like Sakura. She doesn’t meet as many people as them, and she generally avoids situations that would force her to talk to strangers. Just the effort to open herself up to Susumu was a lot for her. “I just don’t think anyone would be as patient as him with me...he told me he would wait for me.”

Sakura gulps down a whole cup of umeshu. She places it down and stares at Hinata. “But you broke up with him already.”

It’s vain of her to think Susumu would still want her back. But if she apologized, if she explained her feelings about him, that she appreciates so many things about him…

“What if Naruto and Rumi-chan break up. What would you do?”

She feels an unpleasant pressure on her temples, a displeasing stress up the nerves of her legs, flaring into hot frustration. “Why would you ask me that?” she asks, tone low to mask the snapping hurt in her. You know that Naruto-kun doesn’t like me that way.” Unthinkingly, she pours herself another cup. “I-I’m not his type, I’m not cute, or, or sexy, or especially bright.” She takes a gulp of her umeshu, letting its fire burn away her dejection. Forget. She just wants to forget this, if just for tonight.

Sakura looks honestly regretful, and Hinata realizes that the alcohol is making both of them more loose with their thoughts. “You know, Hinata,” she says almost quietly, the softer enunciation catching her curiosity. “You know...I really thought he liked you.”

Hinata immediately shakes her head, remembering for a second everything he ever did or said that gave her hope. She drinks a little more to erase those memories, if just for now.

“If that’s his type..cute, sexy, bright… I think that you are! More than Rumi-chan, anyway.”

She looks up and gives Sakura a hard, disbelieving look. “Please,” she mutters, shaking her head again. “I...thought he seemed nicer to me, but...h-he just didn’t want to hurt me.” Her heart shutters at the memory of their last meeting. “I think he knew that I..that I loved him...but he didn’t know how to turn me down. Or maybe he was trying to see if he could like me back.”

Sakura’s brow furrows. “Oh…I guess...I don’t know, maybe I’ve never been that good at understanding him…” She groans. “But I just thought Naruto...I don’t know. It’s been so long since we’ve properly hung out, and I’ve been so busy...I just-I really thought he…”

“I thought so, too..before..” Hinata closes her eyes and finishes her second cup. Burning, burning, burning away… “...If you found out that Sasuke-san was seeing someone else, what would you do?”

Sakura gives a sudden, loud, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it,” she replies. “I’d fight to have him back. I know I’m aggressive, and...I wouldn’t be able to give up.” Sakura places her hand to her forehead, then pushes her hair back. “Oh damn...maybe I’d even fight Sasuke-kun.” She takes a drink from her third cup. “I don’t want to think about it…”

Hinata has always known that Sakura was very different from her. From personalities to fighting styles, they’ve always been on opposite ends. And now, with only alcoholic warmth keeping the tides of loneliness, jealousy, and admiration at bay, these differences fascinate her.

“He left me with a promise...I never even told Naruto this...but you know, Sasuke-kun and I...we can understand each other...just by looking at each other. When we look at each other…” Sakura locks eye contact with Hinata and gestures with her fingers between them. “I feel like I understand him. And he understands me. He doesn’t have to say anything...he doesn’t have to touch me, and I just...I’ve just felt like, I know. I know what he wants to say. Or what he’s thinking.” She takes another drink, finishing her cup. She groans. The alcohol seems to finally be really getting to her. “I miss him so much.”

Hinata buries her face in her hands. Sakura’s talking about herself, but it sounds so much like what she used to feel. She used to feel exactly like that with Naruto. She used to think they understood each other. She used to think they had something special. “How do you know you’re not just feeling that way one-sidedly?” she murmurs.

“Agh. I guess I could never know for sure unless I asked him directly.”

She can feel her head swimming, her mind wandering, slowing as the alcohol overtakes her system. “Sakura-chan...should I cut my hair?”

“What?!”

She fingers her hair thoughtfully, but very little thought is actually processing at this point. She lifts up the strands. “Short? Do you think I’d look brighter that way? Would it match me?”

“Why, Hinata?”

She shrugs. “I guess I won’t.”

“...You can if you want to.”

Maybe it would make her feel less heavy. Maybe it would be a physical way to take some weight off of her.

“You know what you should do?”

She glances back at Sakura and drops her hair.

“You should tell Naruto what you think.”

“Wha--. No.” The temptation to take another cup of alcohol is there, and she holds the bottle, half-considering what another cup would do to her.

“You should tell him that he’d be better off with you. Tell him that he should break up with Rumi-chan and-”

“No, Sakura-chan, no, I would never do that.” She waves her hand to emphasize her words.

“Why not? Fight for your man,” she states. It’s obvious that Sakura would do that for Sasuke.

Hinata would fight...if Naruto was about to get killed by a terrorist group, but that’s far from what this is. “...That’s just not me. And Naruto-kun is not...not mine...” she reasons. Despite how tipsy she is right now, she’s glad she’s still holding onto some sense of self.

Sakura just laughs. “There was a time...I thought Naruto acted like he was.”

“Acted like how?” she asks, not quite following.

“Acted like your man.” Sakura turns and asks the waiter for another bottle.

Hinata shakes her head again in denial, scattering away memories of that time on Susumu’s birthday. “I told you, he was just overprotective because he knew that I liked him.” She decides to go for that third cup. If she stops after this, she’ll still be okay in the morning.

“Ugh. That’s so stupid.”

Hinata waits for Sakura to elaborate, but she doesn’t clarify if what’s stupid is her interpretation of Naruto’s actions, or Naruto’s actions themselves. “What’s stupid?”

“Naruto is always stupid.”

Hinata smiles, even though she disagrees. “I’m the one who’s stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” she scoffs. She pours herself a fourth cup and finishes it almost that quickly.

Hinata mirrors her, taking another sip of her drink. “I am. I misunderstood him. I shouldn’t have chased after him for so long.”

Sakura tsks. “You never chased after him.”

“I know I didn’t chase him, but...you know how they say love is blind? I guess I wouldn’t say I was blind...but maybe more like tunnel vision…” All she ever saw was Naruto. She wonders vaguely if she’s grown too accustomed to that. How long will it take her to unlearn?

“No. No, no, no, you know that’s not true! That’s..no. What are you saying, Hinata? Love isn’t blind! Love is..love is all-seeing! Love isn’t tunnel vision, either! It’s...like Sasuke-kun’s hawk.”

She agrees.

She never felt blind.

Not once with Naruto.

Everything felt vivid--every moment, every word, every touch, every shared glance.

“Being in love is like a hawk’s eye. I can pick him out in a crowd. I can see everything about him in great focus. Every little detail is clear to me.” Sakura pours herself a fifth cup. “Right?”

Her eyes are wet. Her cheeks are wet. Her hand is wet.

“Hinata!” Sakura panics, grabbing at napkins for her. “Don’t cry, oh my gosh, don’t cry. It’s okay,” she murmurs.

“See, I’m so stupid.” She wipes tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t want to cry again, and then.” Her eyes are leaking like a broken faucet. Maybe tonight will be the last time.

“Hinata…” Sakura places a hand, across the table, on Hinata’s arm, rubbing her soothingly.

“Sakura-chan, what if...what if I never fall in love again? What if I never love anyone like I loved Naruto-kun?” Fear, a fear she never wanted to actually name, clenches her heart, and everything burns. Unbidden, tears form and fall. What if she never moves on? What if she never finds anything to compare, anything to come close to the feelings she’s held for him for so long.

Sakura doesn’t answer, and Hinata can’t see her through the fog in her eyes. She rubs her thumb into Hinata’s arm, the sensation calming her runaway emotions.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.” She shutters through her apology and works to get herself back under control.

Sakura hums a disagreement. “It’s okay to cry, Hinata…”

She shakes her head, wiping her face clean. “I can’t keep crying. I’ve cried so much. I’m so tired of crying.”

Sakura gives a soft sigh. “Let’s get out of here, okay? It’s the alcohol. Walking will make you feel better.” She handles the tab and helps her up to standing.

The two make their way out of the izakaya.

She feels oddly numb now, the previous depression distant. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Sakura-chan.”

“Of course, anytime, Hinata. I’ll walk you home.”

They walk arm-in-arm. It’s strangely touchier than she’s used to, but definitely comforting. Appreciation fills her. She’d never be able to tell anyone else her fears. Anyone else would judge her, she’s sure that anyone else just wouldn’t get it. She’s thankful for Sakura’s camaraderie. She’s thankful that Sakura reached out to her first after the war because ever since, they’ve grown closer. Tonight was just one among many other nights they’ve comforted or encouraged each other.

“-sn’t that her?... Hah, I knew it, I told you, she’s a lesbian.” A voice somewhere behind them, obnoxiously loud, cuts into her thoughts.

It’s interesting to think the voice is talking about her. She’s never been called gay before. She never really considered it. She looks around, and she notices that Sakura does, too.

Her eyes catch on Susumu, and then a friend beside him, who’s leering at herself and Sakura.

The alcohol in her system makes it so easy for her to just do nothing in reaction. She stays put, staring at her ex, letting her thoughts slowly process that Susumu’s friend thinks she’s gay. Gay because...

He stares right back at her. He turns to his friend, then turns back to her. His mouth opens, and words tumble out, louder than his usual. “I’m sorry, he’s drunk and he gets annoying when he’s drunk and says things he doesn’t mean, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, I mean, I mean it’s completely fine if you’re a lesbian, I won’t take it personally, that’s cool, too, I mean, damn it I’m drunk...”

She’s aware enough to have figured that out in the first sentence. Susumu never usually talks that much in one breath, never usually swears, either. She laughs a little despite herself.

He gives her a small smile, but it’s weighted, from alcohol or from something else, she’s not sure.

Sakura loosens her hold on her arm, and she belatedly realizes that Sakura had latched on tighter when they saw them.

“What’s wrong with my main man? This guy’s a catch, don’t you know?” the friend shouts at her face.

She blinks in response.

Sakura’s grip tightens once more. She shifts forward, her intent buzzing in the air, a warning.

It makes her adrenaline pick up. She squeezes Sakura’s wrist to hopefully calm her down. She had been feeling so pleasant just a second ago.

But the friend doesn’t take the hint. “How could you resist this face?” He gestures at Susumu’s head.

“Stop,” Susumu shakes him off in annoyance, tilting over slightly too far, perhaps embarrassed, definitely drunk.

The friend points at their tightly linked arms. “See, Susumu, pretty girls are always lesbians!”

“Shut up already.”

Sakura stays alert at her side, and maybe it’s because of her, she feels safe enough to just observe his friend rant like a clown. His argument nudges at her brain, sends a barely-there message that Susumu told his friend about their break-up. That his friend is doing a poor attempt at comforting him, and that she’s the reason he needs comfort.

She notices Susumu’s eyes steady on hers, and she wonders at his gaze.

The friend holds up his fingers mid-rant. “-She must be one ‘cause she never kissed you, she barely hugged you, she hardly touched you,-”

His eyes abruptly shift to his friend, face suddenly livid. “What the hell man shut up!”

She startles at his outburst, having never heard him yell before, especially not with so many profanities, and Sakura steps back, grip tight.

“Let’s go,” Sakura states, pulling at her arm, turning them around.

But she can’t move.

Ah, I really hurt him.

She never reached out to him. She never really tried.

She never wanted him close, always tried to avoid any affection beyond hand-holding, kept herself safe behind her propriety and accustomed timidity, ignored the barrier she put up every time, pretended she didn’t have a set of standards never meant for him to match, at the back of her mind, she always compared him to-

She never tried.

Never tried to try.

Never actually tried to move on.

She steps toward him, pulling her arm free from Sakura.

“Hinata-” she starts, but Hinata continues forward until he turns at her approach.

His eyes widen at seeing her. “I’m sor-”

She grasps his shoulders, pulling him down as she tiptoes. She raises her chin, squeezes her eyes shut and-

It’s over in less than a second.

She opens her eyes to hear him releasing a breath, heavy, as if he had been holding it. His own eyes are wide, like he just woke up from a thunderclap.

She settles back on her heels, about to let him go when his hands grip her waist.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She pauses.

He leans down, and she immediately registers the difference. His lips move against hers softly, as if to drink her in, almost encouraging.

She remembers he has experience, and then faintly considers, This is a real kiss.

“Hinata!” Sakura gasps, just as his friend hollers an “Ooooohh yeaahhhh!!” that jars her back to where they are.

In public.

In front of their friends.

She breaks away from him, blinking, attention on the ground, trying to gather herself together again.

She suddenly feels sober.

He holds her hands. “Hinata.”

She blinks hard at the sidewalk. Her brain hovers between comprehending her first kiss and checking herself, realizing that, no, she is very drunk.

“Hinata,” he repeats, louder over his friend’s cheering and babbling.

She continues to stare at the sidewalk, but then she realizes she can’t do that forever. She looks up at him tentatively.

The gentleness in his expression is completely at odds to his earlier tone, a centering, an anchor, for the tumbling inside her. “...Do you want to try again with me?”

She can hear so much hope in his voice.

Hope.

She wants to hope, too.

She nods.

He squeezes her hands, a smile unfurling across his face.

She watches him, mirroring his smile, knowing that, somehow, she’s now the cause of his unchecked happiness, too.

“Great, great, that’s really great,” he murmurs.

She sees how his smile stays, and thinks maybe it really is just a matter of time. Given another ten years, she can learn to love someone else. Maybe Susumu. She just has to try. She just has to reach out more.

Just has to act it until she feels it.

Her heart may lag behind her actions, but eventually it would catch up, right?

He brings his hands up to his temples, pushes his hair back, looking up to smile over her head at his whooping friend.

Hinata steps away, toward Sakura.

Sakura’s watching her, jaw slightly dropped, eyes wide, brows furrowed.

She tilts her head, determining that Sakura looks disapproving.

Susumu’s hand grabs hers before she can walk any further away, turning her around. He glides his hand up through her nape, threads his fingers down the length of her hair, an action that feels far more affectionate, way more intimate than anything he’d ever done to her before.

It’s nice and fuzzy feeling. Like maybe that’s how Akamaru feels when petted.

“Damn beautiful.” A murmur, a tone quieter, lower, thicker than usual.

She realizes he actually thinks she’s beautiful. He really believes that about her.

“First thing tomorrow, I’ll call on you, okay?” His voice is almost a whisper.

She opens her eyes, realizing that she closed them, and nods.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then something like a frustrated groan, his hand tightening around hers. Then a chuckle. “I’m so drunk. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She nods again.

He releases her and steps toward his friend, who swings an arm around him. He laughs in response, and she notes it’s very boyish.

Cute.

It seems like she still hasn’t lost her habit of adding up his good points.

She watches them walk away before turning and making her way to Sakura. She tilts her head again in a question.

Sakura frowns, hesitating, gaze averting away to the ground, before finally asking, “Hinata, are you sure?”

“No.” The answer comes out so immediate, so definite and simple, that it startles her. Tears spring to her eyes faster than she can manage.

Vodka on his breath, in front of the darkened windows of a realty business, in front of Sakura, in front of that noisy stranger, under the yellow streetlights on a cloudy night. Two faces closer than acceptable and hers had no heat behind it.

Only passive observation.

Only a shapeless, complacent sense of accomplishment that she did what she told herself to do.

She feels like she can’t breathe, like she was backstabbed, only it was self-inflicted, and she curls inward, hating the shriveled lump of weeds her core has become. “I-I just want to feel better, Sakura-chan, I just want to stop feeling like this.” She rubs hot tears from her eyes, and Sakura hugs her, murmuring words of comfort in her ear.

****

He came back at lunch, Sakura’s only availability for the day, and firmly sets the scroll down on her desk. He looks at her as seriously as he can so that she knows how serious he is. “Okay, something’s wrong with me, Sakura-chan. I’m really sick.”

Sakura’s eyes flicker from the scroll to his face. “You’ve never been sick a day in your life. I’ve seen your records.”

“I know.” He unrolls the scroll and unlocks it.

Those things poof onto the paper.

They stare at them.

After a few, long, silent seconds, Sakura shifts her gaze back to Naruto. “Why do you have flower petals?” she asks, annoyance edging at her voice.

“Is that what they are?!” he asks incredulously because he knows that’s what they look like, but he also knows he’s never had flowers in his diet. “I don’t know if someone’s playing a practical joke on me because if someone is, I’d like to know their tricks. This is fucked up, I’ve been barfing those things out for the past, I don’t know, a week I guess, and it’s getting worse!”

“Okay, slow down, you’ve been vomiting out...this...” She gestures at the things.

“Yeah.” He nods his head with a large frown. “Kurama says he doesn’t know what’s going on either.”

He asked him before coming. Kurama simply told him his hosts always had excellent health, so he wouldn’t know.

Sakura takes a deep breath. She reseals the scroll. “I’ll have this examined.” Grabbing her clipboard and a record sheet, she turns to him again and clears her throat. “I need to know more. Do you have any idea of what might be causing this?”

“No,” he says, panic slipping through his tone. It’s apparent that Sakura doesn’t know what’s going on with him, either, and he doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s frightening.

“Are there certain times of the day when this happens? After you eat or...when you wake up in the morning?...”

He pauses to think. “Well...the first time...I was at home. At night. After dinner.” He remembers Rumi was over. “And then the second time was last night. We were eating dinner at that popular sushi restaurant. I had to vomit in the restaurant’s bathroom. Then right after that...when I got home…” He grimaces at the memory. “Then later on last night, too. I barfed three times last night.”

Sakura nods, writing everything down. “What did you eat before that first time?”

“Uhhhh...I think it was yakiniku.”

“...Okay. You went out with Rumi?”

“Yeah.”

“And is she getting sick?”

“No, she’s fine.”

“How do you feel right now?”

“I feel...fine, I guess.”

“No fever, stomach aches, cold shivers?”

“It happens really suddenly, like there’s hardly any warning.” He looks to his former teammate, hoping for any sign of realization in her expression.

She looks stern, like she’s thinking. “So you can just be having a normal conversation, and then you’ll suddenly feel like vomiting?... Were there any smells or possible triggers that you can remember? Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not that I can think of…”

“Okay. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

He reflects on his experiences last night. There is one thing. “It’s like...whatever those things are...are coming from my chest. Not so much my stomach, like...I have a few seconds where I feel like I can’t breathe. Especially the third time last night. My chest really hurt.”

“Was it a sharp pain? An aching pain?”

He hums in thought. “I guess an aching pain.”

“I’m going to examine you.” She stands up and walks around to him.

He unzips his coat to facilitate her examination.

Her hands glow green, and she hovers them above his mesh-clothed chest. Her eyes have that focused-absent look, like she’s seeing something that he can’t. “Your chakra...is congested in your chest.” Her hands move closer to him. Her head tilts in thought. She moves her hands to hover over his stomach. “...You seem perfectly fine here.” Her hands move back up.

He stays perfectly still for her, waiting for her to explain more.

But she doesn’t. She backs away and returns to her clipboard, noting down her unshared thoughts.

“What should I do?” he finally asks.

“You have a chakra illness, that much is clear. I’m pulling you off missions until we can get this sorted out.”

“What?!” He slams his hands on her desk in shock. He needs missions. He needs to keep proving himself to the village. He needs to keep working to be the Hokage. He can’t be sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

Sakura glares at him. “We don’t know how severe this could be. Your chakra seems to be twisting all around your respiratory tract. Whether protectively or dangerously is the question. Any exertion could potentially exacerbate the situation, and I don’t want you keeling over in the middle of a fight because you can’t breathe.”

“I’ve been fine! I’ve been training all week, it’s just that other night and last night I felt sick, but I felt completely better right after!”

“No, Naruto. We need to monitor you. Be thankful I’m not ordering you to hospital bedrest.” She looks at him pointedly, challenging him to go against her any further.

He huffs and sits down with a defeated plop. “Is there anything I can do or take to get better?”

Sakura studies her notes thoughtfully. “Monitor yourself. Note down everything that you consume and do. Do not train. If your condition worsens, check in at the hospital immediately.”

He squints, frowns, opens his mouth to argue about not training, then shuts it. “...What do you mean by...everything. Like going to the bathroom, walking around my place?”

She rolls her eyes. “The places you go to, the people you talk to! Oh! And no sex. Do not engage in any sexual intercourse or anything that leads to orgasm until we figure out what we’re dealing with.”

He stiffens, awkwardness making him sputter. “I don’t do anything like that.”

“Naruto,” Sakura starts, looking him dead in the eyes. “There’s no need to act so immature. I’m a medic. As you should be aware, orgasm disrupts chakra control. You don’t want to choke and die while doing it with your girlfriend. That would be a humiliating way to go.”

“Rumi doesn’t-”

“With that said, what you can do is meditate. Regulate your chakra as much and as often as possible. Keep away from activities or people that agitate you, and just try to stay as calm as you can.”

He supposes meditation beats doing nothing, but she’s basically telling him to do nothing. But he keeps himself from arguing that point. The last thing he wants is being contained to the hospital.

That night, he relays everything Sakura told him to Rumi, minus the sex part. That would just be too uncomfortable to discuss.

“It’s serious then,” she says worriedly. “She even took you off of missions.”

“Yeah, but Sakura doesn’t even know what it is. It might not be that bad.”

Rumi looks him over. “You do seem okay. But I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah. I feel fine, though.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah. But this sucks. I can’t do anything.”

Rumi nods.

It gets quiet between them.

Usually when she comes over, they just fool around with each other. He can’t do that anymore. He realized it really would be humiliating if he died on her in any state of undress, and the past couple of times seemed to prove Sakura’s point. Whenever they got close to being intimate, he vomited. While he was doing it by himself, too…

It’s still quiet. He doesn’t really like quiet. What does he usually talk about?

“Naruto-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really feeling okay?”

“Yeah! I feel fine!”

“That’s good. Hopefully this illness will just pass.”

“Yeah.”

He feels awkward silence take over again. He should ask her about her recent missions or something.

“Do you have any idea of what could be causing you to get sick?”

“No…”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say. Whenever he asks her about her missions, her responses are usually the same anyway. “It was fine.” Or “nothing really happened.” She’s not much of a storyteller. She’s a wind-user, too, so there isn’t much that she knows that he’s not already familiar with.

“Naruto-kun…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re really feeling okay?”

“Mhm. Yeah.”

She studies his face. “Are you tired?”

He frowns. He feels antsy actually. “I’m not tired. I did nothing all day. Just ate at Ichiraku for dinner.”

“You always eat there!” she laughs.

“Well, Sakura told me to stay as calm as possible, and Ichiraku’s the most peaceful place on earth!”

She shakes her head. “You’re obsessed with their ramen. You’re going to get fat one day.”

“Rumi, I would gladly get fat for Ichiraku.”

She scrunches a face at him. “Even after all of the different places we’ve eaten at, you still think Ichiraku is the best?”

“Of course!” he says seriously. “You can show me any restaurant on earth, but none would ever compare.”

She sighs dramatically. “I’ll never understand.”

What’s not to understand? “They have the best consistency of noodles, the best broth, the best chashu.”

“Hmm I guess I’d have to compare with other ramen places.”

“The difference is obvious!”

“I like udon more, though. Ichiraku doesn’t sell udon.”

“Udon?” he says in disbelief. “Ramen is so much better! In the end, it’s all about the broth! That’s what you’re left with anyway once you’ve eaten all the noodles!”

“Yeaahhh, but, I just like chewier noodles.”

He openly stares at her. He cannot believe this.

“And ramen doesn’t usually come with tempura. Udon tastes good with tempura.”

Deep fried shrimp. Expensive. And he thought Ichiraku ramen was a splurge. Also… “And you’re calling me fat?”

She laughs off his argument.

“Ramen tastes better! There’s more depth of flavor!”

“Okay, okay,” she says, but he knows she’s just saying that.

“I’m serious!”

“Mhm. That’s fine. That’s what you think.”

He frowns at her. He took that discussion much more seriously that she did. “You can’t just tell me udon is better than ramen and not expect me to debate that. There is no udon on earth that’s better than Ichiraku’s ramen!”

“We just have different tastes, Naruto-kun!”

He understands that, but he also doesn’t. It doesn’t seem okay. She needs to understand that Ichiraku’s ramen is the best. “Rumi. Ichiraku’s ramen is better than udon.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re obsessed.”

“No, I’m just stating facts.”

“You can’t compare ramen and udon. They’re two different types of food. If you took the best ramen and the best udon, they’d both be the best!”

“You’re the one who said you like udon more than ramen!”

“Oh. I said that, didn’t I… Well, now I’m saying that they’re both good, okay?”

He can’t believe she just went back on her original words so easily. Girls really are confusing. Even with getting older, he still doesn’t understand them. Kanae was the same. First saying they were dating, and then saying that they weren’t. What’s up with that? Why do they always change their minds? Why don’t they say what they mean? Like Sakura, saying that she didn’t like Sasuke anymore.

Good thing he could tell she was lying that time.

Rumi’s not straightforward either. She holds things in, tells him he doesn’t “get it.” Why doesn’t she just tell him?

He blinks at her.

“I’ll take you to a really good udon place I know of!” she continues, oblivious to his confusion.

“It won’t be as good as Ichiraku’s.”

She sighs heavily. “I’m not saying that it will be, okay. I just want you to try it!”

Why eat anywhere else if it won’t be as good? But he decides not to share those thoughts. Rumi likes eating out at a lot of different places.

And that’s fine.

It just makes him a little anxious.

He remembers which places shooed him away from the windows. Even if he didn’t want to go in, they’d yell at him if he got a little too close for their comfort. Yelled at him that he was bad for business. That he’d disturb the other customers.

He knows that none of those places would do that to him now. He knows that.

That doesn’t mean he wants to patron those places now.

He thinks maybe he should tell her the real reason he hasn’t tried different places.

“Have you been here before?” she’ll always ask.

And he always tells her, “Nope. Never tried this place before.”

And then she always looks at him with eyes wide, an expression of shock. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here! You have to try their tonkatsu!” Or misoyaki salmon. Or nabe. It’ll be the same when they go get udon later. All these foods he’s had on very rare occasions with Team 7 when Kakashi was feeling generous and responsible.

Some foods were simply too fancy and expensive for him to have tried on his own. He had no one to tell him to eat it.

It’s just a facet of his past that he doesn’t know how to bring up with her. She’s younger than him, so she’s even less aware of his past than his other friends.

The topic is also just too heavy to think about. Or really talk casually about.

So he never tells her.

She doesn’t need to know.

He guesses it’s probably a good thing for him to try other places. Maybe kind of a way to heal and accept his past and the villagers.

He’s so bored.

It’s only the second day of being on sick leave, and he can’t take the monotony.

He guesses he’ll just…

Walk around.

Or something.

He steps outside. Entertains himself with kicking loose stones to the side of the walkway. Everything’s so dusty with continuous construction and modernization around the village. There’s always random rocks here and there.

Teuchi-jiisan told him that Ichiraku’s might turn into a full-service restaurant soon. They have plans in the works. They’d have to close, though.

He’s happy for him and Ayame-neesan. Less happy about not having his favorite ramen for a whole season, but he knows that they deserve all the recognition for their food. If only Rumi understood the gloriousness of their ramen.

He senses her.

He looks up.

Everything from two nights ago floods back to him. How she looked. How she was with that guy. How she talked to him with that cold tone. How she looked at him..glared... Like she...

He freezes, nerves racing up his limbs, tightness in his chest.

She looks so worried. “Naruto-kun?...” Hesitation laces her voice. “Do you have a moment?”

He realizes she wants to talk to him. He nods, even though he has no idea what to expect from her. The unknown of this situation sets him on edge, makes him feel frustrated and helpless in a way he’s not used to being around her.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry.”

A jolt rattles through him. She’s apologizing?

“I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason. Please accept my apology.” She bows deeply, her long hair sweeping over her shoulders toward the ground.

“Hinata…” It’s like a medicine. Her words a cooling numbness over his anxiety. It breaks through his own confusion over the matter, it makes him clearly wonder...why.

Why did any of that happen?

What would make her act that way toward him?

She’s never-

“Naruto-kun?”

He comes out of his thoughts and sees her looking at him. Concern shadows her expression. He's struck with an awful sensation that the girl he used to know isn't there. A chill sinks through him. She looks so worried. So sad.

Why does she look so sad?

Is it because of that guy? “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

She blinks at him. “Susumu-kun?” she asks.

He holds in a grimace. “Yeah. Susumu.”

Her light gaze drops slightly, eyes averting. “I like him,” she says, her voice almost as small as a whisper. “He’s nice to me.” She looks up again.

His brow furrows, his gut twisting. She likes him? Why? He’s nice to her? Really? It doesn’t look like it. She doesn’t look happy. She shouldn’t be with that guy. She’s not happy. “...He’s nice to you?”

“Yes,” she states, too immediately for his liking. “He is. He’s almost too nice.”

He looks down to hide the heaviness pulling at him. That guy’s nice to her? Nice to her how?... “...You really like him?” he asks. He realizes he needs to know this. He needs to know.

He watches her brows raise. The shimmer in her gaze waver. The tension in her eyes grow.

She looks away.

She keeps her face turned down.

She doesn’t answer him.

But he already knows. She doesn’t really like that guy.

So if she doesn’t like him, then why. Why? Why is she-??

“But you want to be with him,” he says, coming to the horrible realization that it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t like him. She’s choosing to be with him. She’s choosing... He feels his throat close up, his chest clench painfully.

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun…” she murmurs.

He can’t breathe. She’s trying to like that guy. Why? He’s not good enough for her! What does he have?

Images run through his head. That guy taking off her sweater, holding her hand, looking at her. Holding her? Feeling her? Kissing her?

Having her!!

She chose him!

He flees. As fast as he possibly can around the building, out of her eyesight. The pressure building at his throat, acid filling his mouth.

He retches.

He can’t breathe.

It’s stuck in his throat.

He chokes. He’s doubled over, heaving, trying to force it out.

It comes loose.

He has his mouth open as wide as possible, he’s screaming to get it out.

It lands in the puddle of his spit and stomach acid.

He blinks through the tears and gasps for air.

He knows what it is. He’s had a feeling since before. But seeing it is different.

A white flower.

A lily.

Each petal sealed together. An actual flower. Not just petals.

It’s gotten worse.

He’s supposed to tell Sakura.

He goes home. Shuts himself in. He’ll tell her later.

He doesn’t feel good.

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” He’s trying to convince Rumi that he doesn’t want to go out.

“Is this about the udon versus ramen thing from last night?” she asks, hands on her hips, eyes squinting at him.

“No.” He’s not in the mood for that discussion again either. “Sorry,” he remembers to add. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“Fine,” she sighs, in a way that sounds like she’s not fine with it at all. “But when I come back from my mission, you’re coming with me!”

He nods half-heartedly.

She marches into his kitchen and opens his fridge. “You went grocery shopping the other day, right?” She scrutinizes his shelves. “We can make...nikujaga.”

“Okay.” Meat and potatoes. A simple dish that even he can make. Just toss everything in the pot and let it simmer. But…

He watches her remove his pork from the fridge. He bought that to make ramen. He wants to tell her so, but he’s not in the mood for her nagging, either. "You should eat something other than ramen!” “You eat too much ramen!” “You’re going to get fat one day!” “You’re obsessed with ramen!” Sometimes it’s funny. But all he eats these days are other things, at least when he’s with her. She never wants to just enjoy ramen with him.

“You can start the rice.”

He goes to his rarely-touched container and portions it out while she washes and skins the potatoes. He’s careful to rinse the rice. Not like the first time they cooked together. And he just filled the pot with water and turned the cooker on. And she freaked out on him.

The Sandaime taught him to cook rice when he was really little, but he was really little. So he just got used to doing things the simplest way. No one was there to help his little hands control the pot and and all the water and all the tiny grains.

Anyway, he didn’t tell her that.

It just didn’t seem like something he could say when she was panicking about dirty rice and looking at him like he came from another world.

But it’s kind of nice to make more than one cup of rice. To know he’s not cooking by himself.

After rinsing the rice a few times, he starts the cooker.

She smiles at him appreciatively, sweetly.

He grins. “See, I’m a master now.”

“Yes, you are!” she agrees happily.

After they’re finished eating, they sit close together on his couch. But unlike other nights, he’s not really in the mood for this, either.

She’s there, at the back of his mind, with that guy, and he doesn’t want to think about it. It makes him feel sick.

“Naruto-kun, how did you feel today?”

He stiffens. “I was okay.” He lied. He lied. He never lies. At least not to Rumi.

“That’s good. You didn’t vomit again?”

“...No.” ...He just doesn’t want her to worry, right?

“Maybe you’re getting better!”

He nods. He’s getting worse.

She leans against him and sighs happily.

Usually, usually, he likes this. He likes having her close. He likes being with her.

He can’t help but wonder if she does this, with that guy. A knot grows at the center of his chest.

“Naruto-kun?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, and he thinks, he’s getting the hang of this.

She turns her chin against his arm, looks up at him. A shine in her hazel eyes. “Why do you love me?”

He blinks at her. Why? It’s pretty simple. He’s told her this before, too. “You’re here with me. You put up with me.” Like putting up with his “obsession” with ramen and his inadequate rice skills. “I love you because you love me.”

She sits up. She looks away in thought, her brows furrowing. “Okay…” She pauses. “But...why do you love me?”

Why do I love her? Didn’t I… He answered wrong somehow. “What do you mean?”

“Like...anyone could love you. Anyone could be here with you,” she answers quietly.

He shakes his head. Rumi thinks so highly of him. Maybe he really should tell her more about his past. “That’s not true, not just anyone would be with me. I told you about Kanae, right? She broke up with me...she couldn’t deal with me…”

“Yeah, but…” Her lips purse in thought. “So many people love you, Naruto-kun.”

He scratches his neck. He knows those people don’t actually know him. “You can ask any of my friends,” he says softly. Should he really tell her this? “Especially when I was younger, nobody liked me.”

“Really?” she asks in quiet disbelief. “But you have so many friends now.”

“Yeahh, well, when I was younger, even my own teammates, Sakura-chan and Sasuke, they hated me.”

“....Why?”

“I guess…” He asked that same question when he was younger. “Because everyone else hated me. It was just what everyone did.” He also knows he was an annoying little shit, but that was because he wanted attention that nobody was giving.

“...Everyone?” she asks.

“Well...maybe not everyone…” He occasionally had Shikamaru and Choji as playmates, and Hinata was always-

He feels all the color drain out of him, run down through his feet, tears threaten his eyes.

“Because you have Kurama? Nobody liked you?” Her questions feel far away.

She cared about him when no one else did and why is she trying to like- The stones in his chest push up abruptly, and he bends over, unable to hold it back.

Tears spill as the contents of his body swell and bulk from his throat, burning his esophagus raw.

“Naruto-kun!!” she shrieks.

A large wet flower falls out of his mouth.

“Wha-” she gasps. Rumi runs to the kitchen. She comes back with paper towels.

He’s still bent over, unwilling to show her his undoubtedly unattractive face covered in ugly tears and spit.

“What is…” She kneels, trying to mop up his mess. “A flower? Is that a lily?” She passes him a towel.

He wipes his face and mouth. Spits excess gunk into the napkin. He doesn’t answer. That’s what it is. The head of a lily.

“What kind of sickness is this?” she gasps. “Your chakra is doing this? You need to tell Sakura-san!”

He was never particularly religious. Even though he finally got to meet his parents, and their conversations hold a special place in his heart, he never felt the need to visit their graves. He never felt a need to place flowers or food. They were fine when he met them. They weren’t suffering. They were happy and proud of him, even though he never went to see them.

In the past, at the time of the year when everyone goes to the graves to pay their respects to their ancestors, he never knew where to go. He never participated.

He never had anyone to thank for giving him life.

He never felt particularly thankful for having a life.

He also hated just being alone in a crowd.

No one to go with.

No one to talk to in front of the graves.

Now he knew where to go. He knew who his parents were. He still didn’t really want to go. He got to thank them, didn’t he? When he met them? So he didn’t have any reason to do it again, right?

But there is one person he never got to thank for his life.

He hesitated outside of Yamanaka Flowers, just kind of stood there, watching people going in and out.

It’s not like Neji was his ancestor. But he never got to thank him in words.

“Naruto-kun?”

He looked to see her coming over to him. “Hi, Hinata.”

“Hello,” she greeted softly. “Are you going to buy flowers for the festival?”

He nodded. Just a second ago, he was so unsure. But he thought now that maybe he really would. “Yeah…”

“For your parents?” she guessed.

“Actually, I was thinking of getting flowers for Neji…” He watched her to see her reaction.

She smiled, a small thing that brightened her whole face, brought a shine to her eyes. “Me, too.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “My family and I are going after lunch. Would you like to...join us?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She looked up at him, her gaze searching his. “Then...if you wouldn’t mind...could I join you?”

He’s always so surprised at how she seemed to know exactly what to say. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

She smiled again. She looked truly happy. “What time were you thinking of going?”

“I guess...now? After I get flowers?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

She bought white lilies. The same flowers she laid at the remembrance ceremony. He bought white lilies, too. He didn’t know what else to get.

They laid their flowers at his grave. They prayed silently.

It was unexpectedly quiet. He was surprised. With so many visitors, he expected a lot more noise. Instead, it felt like they were in a bubble. As if everything and everyone around them didn’t matter.

All that mattered was this.

This moment between them. Between them and the grave.

“Neji-niisan...he brought me these flowers once. When I was in the hospital,” she murmured.

He glanced at her, then back down at the flowers. “That’s nice,” he responded, equally quiet. As if anything louder than this would shatter a delicate peace, would disrupt the tranquil bubble surrounding them.

“Yes. It was really thoughtful of him. He didn’t have to.”

He nodded. There was a time when Neji would have never done something like that. But he changed.

“I never got to return the gesture. Neji-niisan was never in the hospital,” she whispered.

They sat that way for a long time. Eyes lowered on his grave.

After about an hour, they got up. Dusted their legs off. They stood facing each other, hot summer wind blowing between them.

Before this, he never knew what this part of the festival was like. Now he knew. “Hinata, thank you for coming with me.”

She shook her head. She smiled at him gently. “Thank you for letting me come with you.” Her shoulders raised in shy discomfort, her fingers twisting together, her feet shifted in the grass. She tucked her chin a bit, but she looked up at him through dark lashes. “Next time, please let me join you again...that is, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Of course he didn’t mind. He appreciated it more than words could ever say.

They visited Neji’s grave together again that year for the annual memorial. It just felt right. And other occasions after that. This past summer, too.

They always brought white lilies.

A sign? A foreboding message? The flower he always takes to Neji’s grave, blooming out of him painfully.

Even he’s not stupid enough to not realize that it’s hurting him, that it’s getting worse and likely will continue to get worse. His chakra is out of wack, attacking his lungs. He doesn’t have to meditate to feel the congestion and weight of his chakra in his chest. Ever since the petals formed actual flowers, he doesn’t feel better after each throw-up.

He feels sick.

He feels anxious and helpless.

He feels like any wrong move could lead to another episode, like those flowers, those lilies, are just waiting to burst out of him.

Somewhere between last week and this week, he crossed a line of no-return.

And he fears.

He fears the cure is out of his control.

He sees her every time he remembers the lilies, and he feels a little worse. The knot in his chest twitches or grows. His breathing gets harder. The bottom of his throat burns, irritated from acid.

He goes to see Sakura again.

“It’s getting worse?” she asks immediately when he steps through her office door.

“No…” He lied. Again. “I just wanted to tell you that I think it really is white lilies.” He doesn’t think it. He knows it.

She sighs. Heavily. “I know. I tested the substances yesterday.”

He nods. Of course she already figured that out.

“You haven’t been vomiting any more up, have you?”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be confined to the hospital. “Did you figure anything else out, yet?”

“I’ve been discussing your case with Shishou. She said she thinks she’s heard of something like this before, but she’s not sure. We have to go through the past medical records. And it’s a lot. I don’t know how long it will take for us to find anything, or if we’ll find anything at all, but when we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“...So...what happens if you don’t find anything?” He doesn’t get it. What’s wrong with him? Why don’t Sakura and Tsunade know? They’re the top medic-nin in the world, and they don’t know what’s wrong?!

“In the case that this doesn’t go away on its own, we’ll have to conduct a thorough examination. It may involve going through your memories to find a root cause.”

“That’s…” He stares at her in horror. That’s incredibly invasive. “Why?”

“That’s worst case scenario. You see, Naruto, the thing is, chakra illnesses are not the same as sicknesses of the body. Chakra is still being studied. New discoveries are being made every day. Each person’s chakra is unique. A person’s chakra is influenced by the parents’, but also by the environmental factors they grow up in, as well as moods and feelings. Chakra can be shared, it can be conditioned, it can be strengthened, as you know it can be mixed with nature energy, and its depletion can lead to death. Who knows what else and more there is to be discovered!”

He nods, not sharing in her enthusiasm about chakra at all. His own chakra is killing him. Did she learn that from her books? Apparently not. He makes to leave.

“Wait!”

He stops.

“Before you go, I want to know if you’ve thought of anything else. It’s your body, and it’s your chakra. What connection do you have to white lilies?”

He stares at Sakura. Her face flashes through his mind’s eye, and the knot in his chest pinches. “I don’t know,” he mumbles out. “I’m not much of a flower person,” he adds, for no reason other than to reject the pain. He actually usually likes flowers.

Sakura deflates a bit. “Okay. Well, if you figure anything out, let me know right away. Any bit of information helps.”

“Thanks, Sakura-chan.” He leaves.

He meditates for hours on end. Just like when he was going through his Sage training five years ago.

He stores up nature energy and distracts himself with the hundreds of pulsating, twinkling lives around him. He quiets his mind and lets himself seep into everything around him.

It makes him feel a little better. Like Sakura suggested, it really helps to relieve the pressure. It seems to help him regulate his chakra, and after a solid session of meditation, his chest doesn’t feel nearly as heavy.

Until one morning.

He senses her with someone else. The two alone. In the woods. At a training ground.

Instinctively he knows exactly who it is. He knows exactly what they’re doing.

He can sense Hinata’s chakra flaring to life, and he knows her chakra. He’s been on the receiving end of her blows, and he can just imagine her fighting expressions, her form and strength, and-

Aggravation unlike anything seizes his muscles.

He cuts the connection, dissipates the nature energy as fast as possible, his chakra balance dangerously thrown off.

He stares at his wall, but instead he sees her. He sees the dauntless lines of her Juuken, every powerful strike of her graceful hands, the astounding manifestation of her vibrant chakra on her fists, the stunning challenge she invokes, increasingly working brilliantly faster, and he-

He feels too large for his space, a man stuffed in a sealed barrel with no way out. The smell of his vomit makes him only choke out another one. This time he made it to his trashcan.

But what does it matter if he makes a mess.

He threw his papers all over the floor. He broke his table. He shattered a glass against the wall.

He doesn’t feel better.

He feels worse.

There’s no way back. There’s no stopping it.

That guy loves her. If he didn’t before, he does now because there’s nothing like it. There’s nothing to compare after seeing her like that.

His eyes burn, and his face flames with frustration that has no outlet. His hands clench and unclench, he squeezes blunt nails into his palms.

He stares at a fully bloomed lily, the stamens streak orange stains on the petals.

“Oh no,” she gasped. Her finger wiped at brown splotches on the stone.

He frowned at the sight.

“The caretakers must leave the flowers out for too long,” she murmured as she took out a handkerchief from her pocket.

“Those marks are from the flowers?” he asked.

She nodded. “The pollen falls off the flowers when the flowers get old. They can leave a stain.” She rubbed hard at the headstone.

He filled the grave’s bamboo cup with water. She dipped her handkerchief in the water, then rubbed. And rubbed. And rubbed.

He tried to clean the stone, too.

After awhile, he thought maybe the stains wouldn’t come out. “You know, maybe he likes some color. It’s a reminder that you visit him.”

She smiled in spite of her dismay. “A reminder for him that you visit, too.”

He nods. “Yeah! You know, the stains turned kind of orange now, and, y’know, I’m orange, the stains are orange, it’s definitely symbolic.”

She laughed, a sound that made it seem like the graveyard was actually the most peaceful and wonderful place on earth. “I’ll come back later with proper cleaning supplies. I’m sure Neji-niisan doesn’t like being orange.”

He laughed, too.

The memory leaves him with no warmth.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prevent tears.

She chose that guy. She chose that guy. She chose that guy.

What about me? What about us? Why did she choose that guy? How could she?

How could she just…

Rumi stares at his empty dining area. “Where did your table go?”

“I threw it out,” he answers shortly.

Her confused gaze darts to him. “Oh. Are you thinking of getting a new one?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

“Naruto-kun?” She steps closer to him, her hand coming up to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He steps away from her unthinkingly.

Her hand is left in the air. Her hand folds, and she brings it down to her side. “What’s wrong?” she asks again.

He knows what’s wrong. But he can’t tell her what’s wrong. He can’t tell her that he spied on Hinata and her boyfriend, found out that they were sparring, broke his table and vomited out two more flowers consecutively while she was away.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m fine.” It sounds like a lie even to his own ears.

“Naruto-kun, tell me what’s wrong! We need to communicate.”

He turns and stares at her. “We need to communicate?” he repeats. “You never tell me what’s bothering you! And when I do tell you what I think, you get mad at me!”

She blinks at him in shock at his sudden yell. Her face twists into a frown. “I don’t get mad at you! What are you talking about?”

“You got mad at me when I talked about my friends that are girls! You don’t like it when I talk about ramen! You got mad when you saw how I cooked rice!”

“Wha- I haven’t gotten mad about your friends in a long time! It was just that once! That was a long time ago! And it wasn’t about that! I was mad because you didn’t seem to care that I didn’t like you talking about them!”

He squints at her, confused.

“And I don’t get mad when you talk about ramen or how you cooked rice!”

“Really because it seemed that way to me!” The more he’s thought about it, the more he thinks she overreacts.

“Noo, what?! I wasn’t mad! I don’t get mad! I just thought that it was weird!”

He pauses to process that. But he doesn’t like it any better. “Well maybe I don’t like it that you think I’m weird!”

“What? Wha-” She stares at him with that look again, like he’s from another planet. “Why didn’t you tell me back then! You were thinking about that all this time? That was like...so long ago!”

“Well I’m telling you now! And don’t act like you don’t do the same thing! You hold onto stupid stuff, too!”

She pauses, then gasps, obviously offended. “...Is that what you think? When I get upset, you think that it’s stupid?”

He throws his hands into the air. “Well you never explain yourself, so yeah, I have no idea what you’re upset about, and I think it’s stupid!”

She glares at him. Her eyes suddenly gloss, filled with tears. “I come back from my mission to check on you, and this is what you’ve got to say to me?”

He glares back. She doesn’t apologize for anything he was upset about, and now she cries? What the hell? She just does that to make him feel bad!

She turns abruptly and storms out of his apartment.

His door slams.

He stands there, his body seething with repressed frustration.

On instinct, he rushes to his toilet.

Nothing happens.

He’s so mad, but nothing.

He doesn’t feel at all like vomiting.

He leaves his bathroom, throws himself on his bed.

Shuts his eyes.

He knows he shouldn’t have yelled at Rumi like that, but he’s been on edge since two days ago. He’s afraid to meditate. He’s afraid to find out more. He’s afraid that what’s happening…

Has to do with her.

He’s afraid that his fear is correct.

Because if it is…

He thinks it’ll be too painful, he might die.

Actually die.

His chakra is constricting his breathing. His chest is heavy. His eyes burn.

She chose him. She chose him.

#naruhina #fanfic #angst #hanahaki #canon divergence #no the last #naruhina fanfiction

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flightfoot · 4 years

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ML Fanfic Character Analysis - Alya Cesaire from MiniMinou’s “Lies We Tell (Ourselves)” Chapters 1-11 (SPOILERS)

Thanks to @mini-minou for writing Lies We Tell (Ourselves) and for giving me permission to write this analysis!

Before I get a bunch of anons complaining about me not putting this under a Read More, if I do that then if anything happens to my blog this post will be lost, and there’s really no other place for me to post it to ensure that it stays available. I’ve run into enough old posts where the user who wrote a response or a story was deactivated, so anything they put underneath a Read More is inaccessible.

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I really love Alya from this fic. She’s flawed and makes mistakes and is sometimes selfish, but she’s TRYING to be a good friend and a good person while balancing that against her own ambitions. Unfortunately her limited information causes her to frequently make decisions that just make things worse for her. It doesn’t help that she’s a bit starstruck by Ladybug and tends to think of her more as an idol or celebrity than as an actual person, especially like a girl her own age. I wouldn’t fault her TOO heavily on that though; that’s an easy mistake to make, even for adults, and Ladybug definitely SEEMS larger than life and even encourages others to think of her that way, since that way the citizens of Paris are likely to feel more secure.

In any case, I really wanted to break down Alya’s actual actions and perspective throughout chapters 1-11 (11 is the most recent chapter published in case anyone in the future is confused as to why I chose that as a stopping point for this analysis). Alya is the hero of her own story. And when her actions are viewed through the lens of what she knows and perceives and believes, they make a lot of sense and honestly? I can’t say that I’d be likely to do any better in her shoes. Which is part of what makes her so compelling. She’s trying to do good, but that doesn’t mean she’s perfect at it. People usually aren’t. But she’s TRYING. She just can get a little lost along the way sometimes.

To put things into chronological order:

Alya appears to have conducted her first interview with Lila back in Volpina, like in canon. Nothing too noteworthy here. She was gullible to do so on no evidence, but that’s about all I can say about it.

Sometime after Lila returned to school, Alya conducted a second interview with Lila, since the first one was such a hit. Everyone wanted to know more about Ladybug, and if they can’t get Ladybug herself to show up and answer questions, her supposed “best friend” is a good substitute - at least as good as they were gonna get.

Lila seems to have agreed pretty readily (of course). Alya was delighted to get access to her again, but had some reservations about her own motives.

“Weeell,” Alya said, playfully elongating the vowel. “I’d love to hear more about tea. Off the record, of course. And I promise it won’t spill any further than me.”

Lila pursed her lips, an unreadable expression on her face, and Alya’s heart dropped straight to her stomach. Oh no. Had she probed too hard? She didn’t want to come off as some crazed fangirl, or make Lila feel like she was only trying to get close to her because of her connection to Ladybug.

But aren’t I?

Well, maybe a little. But Lila was a genuinely fascinating person in her own right, and they were sure to be fast friends anyway.

This opportunity was just the lucky cherry on top.

I really like Alya here. Yes she’s initially getting closer to her so quickly because of her connection with Ladybug, but honestly from what we’ve seen of how Alya makes friends and how quickly, I don’t think she’s wrong that she’d try to make friends with Lila regardless. I’m glad that it at least occurred to her that her “connections” may have played a factor in her wanting to be friends so quickly and eagerly, and that she seems to have acknowledged that, but also seemed to view it as more of a bonus than anything.

Because as a bonus it’s fine. Just so long as it’s not the core or only reason.

And then there’s Lila’s big lie. Of course she lies all the time, but this is the one that’s gotten Alya desperate, that has cut Alya to her core. Because this lie involves Alya herself, though Lila doesn’t know it, and just so happens to have similar enough effects to what Alya’s observed (though the actual reasons are different) and uses details that Lila shouldn’t have known unless she was watching the battle on Heroes Day or talked to someone who was directly involved with it who wasn’t akumatized.

“Alright, you didn’t hear this from me, but – you know that new fox hero?”

Alya grew perfectly still. “Rena Rouge?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Do–“ She cleared her throat. “Do you know who she is?”

“You mean as a civilian? No. But let me tell you, behind the scenes…” Lila let out a trilling laugh. “She’s an absolute disaster. Got herself and half the team Akumatized on Hero’s Day. Ladybug’s seriously considering replacing her with someone else.” She shrugged. “After all, there are much more worthy candidates for wielding that particular Miraculous around.”

As Alya notes later on, Lila can’t have known this unless she talked to one of the Miraculous wielders involved or was watching from somewhere. Since Lila was supposedly out of the country (plus most everyone who wasn’t akumatized had fled or were in hiding), that means, as far as Alya knows, that Lila could ONLY have found this info out by talking to Rena Rouge, Carapace, Queen Bee, Chat Noir, or Ladybug.

Alya knows for a fact that she didn’t spill and that Nino didn’t either. I’m not sure how she ruled out Chloe from spilling, but she may have just figured that Chloe wouldn’t want to talk about that battle because of how poorly it went. Or she may have asked Chloe surreptitiously. It’s entirely possible, though, that she just took Lila’s words at face value. After all, no reason to do that investigation unless you suspect someone of lying, and while Marinette has accused Lila of lying, she hasn’t presented any hard evidence of her doing so. And this story of Lila’s, with her knowing something she logically shouldn’t unless her story was true? Is pretty compelling evidence that she’s not lying. Especially in respect to her connection with Ladybug.

Lila doesn’t know it, but her lie is PERFECT. For her at least. From Alya’s reaction, it seems like she’d probably been feeling insecure about her performance on Heroes Day since it happened, so she could easily believe Lila’s words - especially since it matched up nicely with how Ladybug had been avoiding her.

“Really?” Alya asked, somehow choking out a breathless laugh. “That bad?”

“Quite.” Lila tilted her head, a slightly puzzled frown on her face. “But as I said, completely off the record, please. Ladybug hasn’t yet decided what to do about her, and I wouldn’t want to be responsible for rumors of discord on the team. Hawkmoth might take advantage!”

“Well.” Alya’s mouth was impossibly dry, yet she forced herself to smile cheerfully. “Any chance you might put in a good word for her getting another chance? Call me sentimental, but I kind of have a soft spot for her.”

“Oh. You’re a fan, huh?” Lila’s lips split into a wide Cheshire smile, her tone indulgent. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Lila noticed Alya’s reaction, but didn’t exactly know WHY she was reacting so strongly. In any case, she was able to offer Alya a way out of a sort. The possibility that she could get Rena Rouge reinstated. Of course, she doesn’t know WHY such a thing is so important to Alya - I’m pretty sure she just thinks that Alya is a HUGE fan of her - but it’s enough that it IS. It’s something she can dangle in front of Alya if need be. Mostly as a passive thing in the background I’d imagine, but if Alya started pushing back against her, she could bring it out actively as a hostage. She doesn’t appear to have had occasion to do that as of Chapter 11; but then again, Alya still fully believes her and hasn’t made any moves against her as of yet.

Which brings us to Chapter 1 (since I’m guessing that the interview takes place before the start of the fic). Chameleon happened a week ago, and Marinette’s trying to follow Adrien’s advice, but it’s still VERY clear that she doesn’t like nor trust Lila. Has been for awhile, judging by the videoconference call with Lila in Heroes Day.

And Alya still doesn’t know WHY. Why Marinette cares so much, especially since there doesn’t seem to be sufficient evidence to say that she’s actually straight-up lying. Lila always has a reasonable explanation for everything. Plus Marinette’s disliked Lila vehemently since the first day. So naturally she leaps to jealousy, since Lila DOES tend to try to hang out with Adrien, and that’s the only thing Alya could think of her that could cause such a severe ongoing reaction from Marinette. Heck, even CHLOE doesn’t earn this level of animosity. But there’s not much chance of Adrien returning Chloe’s affections. Lila, though... she’s (as far as Alya’s aware) someone awesome and trustworthy enough that Ladybug, the most amazing person in existence and Alya’s personal hero, trusts with personal information and is close friends with.

Ladybug doesn’t MAKE mistakes. Not for long at any rate. Ladybug’s actions can seem questionable sometimes, but if you trust that she has a plan and it all will make sense in the end, it always does. She only majorly messed up ONCE, on her first day, and she rectified that quickly. Generally speaking, it’s safest to just assume that Ladybug’s always right, and if she’s doing something that seems odd, that just means that she has a weird convoluted plan and is seeing something you’re not.

Ladybug becoming friends with a secretly horrible person, thinking that she’s trustworthy enough to share secrets with that she won’t share with anyone else? Unthinkable.

But Alya knows that Marinette CAN make mistakes. She did with Adrien on the first day he was at school, and with her impression of Kagami later on. And Marinette’s judgement with Adrien can go right out the window. It’s far more believable that Marinette could make a mistake in judgement - even an ongoing one - and stay hostile than it is for Ladybug to do the same.

Everything hinges on Alya’s (well-founded, though wrong) belief that Ladybug trusts Lila and so Lila is trustworthy by proxy. It turns it from a conflict of “Marinette Vs. Lila” to “Marinette Vs. Lila & Ladybug”. That makes a HUGE difference.

Anyway, Marinette seems to have been attempting to follow Adrien’s advice from Chameleon and just let it go. Just ignore Lila. Which was probably a relief to Alya, though the tension would still be apparent. Alya appears to have taken on a trend of still sitting with Marinette, but attempting to eavesdrop on Lila. Like she WANTED to be with Lila because she was really cool and also might give her some great new info, but she didn’t want to abandon Marinette, especially since she ALREADY seemed to be afraid of losing someone she cared about (Adrien) to Lila. So she stayed sitting with Marinette, but didn’t always give her her full attention.

Having to listen to Lila’s lies is nauseating enough, but what truly spoiled Marinette’s appetite today was the way Alya kept leaning over to the other table to better hear about the exploits of Lila’s BFF Ladybug.

There’s only so many absent-minded hums a girl a can take. Okay, yeah, she gets it – what Marinette had to say wasn’t that interesting, just dumb small-talk about Clara Nightingale’s new album, but–

She’s just so sick of Alya not listening to her.

It’s the best compromise ALya can muster, being pulled between her ambition, Lila, and Ladybug on one end, and her best and closest friend on the other. She still ultimately chooses Marinette, but tries to stay close to Lila as well. She wants BOTH of them.

Unfortunately that DOES mean that Marinette gets slightly shafted. Only slightly though.

Then Marinette blurts out her love confession to Adrien, he rejects her, and Alya shifts into Best-Friend-Of-She-Who-Has-Been-Scorned Protective/Comforting Mode.

She death-glares Adrien for hurting her best friend, even though technically he did nothing wrong. But her best friend is still devastated by his actions nonetheless and she DOES want to protect Marinette as best she can. She doesn’t know that Lila is a genuine threat to Marinette’s happiness and wellbeing. But Adrien? Adrien DEMONSTRABLY just hurt Marinette, even though he did the best he could at the time. Marinette’s too vulnerable to protect herself emotionally from Adrien’s clumsy attempts to reconcile and make things right, so it falls to Alya to try to protect her bestie.

Marinette’s still distraught and tense the next day. Luckily, Alya’s there to help as best she can. She can’t make everything better, but she can still be there for Marinette. And she is.

“It’s going to be okay.” Alya reaches to rub her back, and it feels nice, but it brings Marinette no closer to being okay, because she’s not ever going to be okay again.

Then Lila appears and everything goes sideways.

She appears perfectly saccharine and sweet, offering condolences and sounding bad for Marinette. From Alya’s perspective, it seems like Lila is reaching out to a girl who has scorned and abhorred her for no good reason, commiserating with her even though she has every reason not to care about the pain Marinette’s going through.

Lila even offers a solution to Marinette’s obvious discomfort with sitting behind Adrien, where she has to stare at the back of his head constantly. What was once a bonus is now torture to her. So she offers to change seats so that Marinette can distance herself from him. Something that seems like a generous, well-meaning offer.

Marinette lashes out.

Lila’s gaze slithers to Adrien’s empty seat and back to Marinette, the reassuring smile she’s wearing growing a little wider. “You must be so uncomfortable with him right in front of you. I’ve been thinking…”

She reaches out, fingertips ghosting over Marinette’s shoulder in some horrid mockery of comfort.

“Would you like to switch seats agai–?”

“Don’t touch me!”

Marinette slaps Lila’s hand away from her shoulder, yet the crawling under her skin still lingers. Lila stumbles back, clutching her bandaged wrist to her chest. The classroom falls silent, a dozen pair of eyes glued to the confrontation and holding their breath.

Lila’s eyes fill with tears, her lower lip trembling.

“I…” she chokes out. “I was only trying to help.”

Marinette actually hits Lila, if only lightly. Lila already faking having an injury doesn’t help matters.

Marinette’s the only one who knows that Lila isn’t genuine here. That it’s all an act and that secretly she’s reveling in Marinette’s misery. Marinette and Lila are the only ones who know that Marinette’s response here was justified. From the information everyone ELSE has? It wouldn’t be.

Honestly, Alya’s response here, her actions, are actually really good and pretty much exactly what I’d want her to do... IF the actual situation was what she THINKS it is. Unfortunately, she can only work with the information she actually has.

“Marinette.”

Alya’s reproach cracks like a whip, and something within Marinette just snaps. Whirling around, she snarls at her best friend. “Fine! You want me in the last row that bad, I’ll go to the last row!”

Lila is slumped in Marinette’s seat, crying prettily into her hands, while people crowd around her in comfort.

A loud thump rings out, and Marinette startles, whipping her head around. Alya is slumped in the seat next to her, noisily unpacking her bag.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asks, torn between incredulous and hopeful.

Alya arches an eyebrow as she pulls out her notebook and lays it down in jerky, agitated movements, even as her voice is as smooth as silk. “Moving seats?”

Alya reproaches Marinette because with what Alya knows of the situation, Marinette IS in the wrong. But she still sides with Marinette over Lila, even though Marinette just “hurt” Lila, slightly physically and heavily emotionally, lashing out when it appeared to her that Lila was trying to mend whatever caused Marinette to dislike Lila so heavily. She calls her out slightly, but honestly? Sometimes being a good friend means calling out your friend when they did something wrong.

Alya DOES cut her some slack at least, because Marinette’s CLEARLY still not okay from Adrien’s rejection. Still not in the mood to hear Marinette blame Lila though when from what Alya can see, it’s pretty clear that LILA’S the victim here.

“Lila did that on purpose,” Marinette finally blurts out, and Alya sighs heavily.

“Girl, let’s not.”

“No, she was–“

Alya holds up her palm to interrupt her, and Marinette trails off at the look in her eyes. It’s not accusing, as she’d expected it to be, but rather soft and a little sad.

“I don’t want to fight, Marinette. That was… not cool, but I know you’re in a bad headspace right now, and I don’t want to add to it.”

Alya doesn’t reprimand her beyond that. She’s not gonna let Marinette rag on her new friend and “twist” (again, as far as Alya knows) Lila into being the bad guy, but she’ll still stay with Marinette in solidarity and share snacks she brought especially for Marinette to help her.

The vindictive words sit on the tip of her tongue, and Marinette swallows them with great difficulty. “Thanks,” she says instead, turning her face to stare at the floor because she can’t quite bring herself to smile at her best friend. “For being here.”

Because Alya is here, and is trying to be kind. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“No place I’d rather be.” Briefly, her shoulder presses against Marinette’s, and then Alya is fiddling with her bag again, pulling out a chocolate bar and sliding it over. When Marinette shoots her a confused look, Alya grins. “Emergency heartbreak rations. I came prepared.”

And that thoughtfulness does coax a small smile to Marinette’s lips.

Alya helps as much as she can, even offering to talk to Ms. Bustier about rearranging the seating so she and Marinette can sit in the back, something that Marinette was hostile to a moment before - but from Alya, Marinette accepts the suggestion.

Alya’s still fending Adrien off the next day. She’s also just really worried about Marinette, and is trying to protect her as best she can.

Marinette trails behind, pointedly not looking at Adrien. Alya had told him she was going to meet her at the bakery and walk to school together, to keep Akuma-watch. Nino doubts it will do much good and they can’t watch Marinette every second of the day – especially when she decides to just ditch class, like yesterday – but feeling useful keeps Alya from going crazy – crazier – with worry.

She’s extremely worried about Marinette’s well-being and is even kinda mother-henning here, attempting to keep akuma-watch. Alya may not have been happy with what Marinette did yesterday, but she’s still Marinette’s best friend and she wants her to be safe.

Unfortunately, Lila decides to launch a grenade into that. Because Lila.

“Hey, Lila.” Alya greets her with an answering smile, coming to a halt to chat.

“I’m throwing a party this Saturday, you in?”

“Oh, um.” Alya’s gaze darts to Marinette who is very much not stopping to chat. “I… might… already have plans…?”

“Please?” Lila steps closer, pleading. “I want to get to know you all better. Unless…” As Marinette walks past, Lila’s shoulders slump and she sighs. “No, you’re right. It was probably too much to expect you to be friends with both of us.”

“Girl, we are friends!” Alya reassures her, and as Nino watches Marinette silently slink to the last row, somewhere in the back of his mind alarm bells start ringing.

Lila appears to just be the new girl here. Someone whom Marinette has taken a disliking to for very little reason. She’s very understanding and kind, even though Alya is friends with the girl who’s extremely hostile to her for reasons she can’t fathom, who stomps on every olive branch offered her for some unknown transgression.

Alya doesn’t want to shun Lila just because Marinette is. That’s reminscient of a mean girl squad, the members hating particularly people because the leader has taken offense to something about them and expects their followers to follow suit.

And following off the premise that Lila’s lies ARE convincing, with any inconsistencies or contradictions easily being explained away by Lila? Alya hasn’t been given much of a reason for why Marinette hates Lila so much.

Nino’s beginning to have some reservations about Lila though. She basically strong-armed him into DJing, and he’s seen how Marinette reacts to Lila. While Alya has also seen how Marinette acts and reacts to Lila, she’s missing some vital knowledge; how Marinette looks and behaves when she’s being bullied without recourse. He knows that Marinette’s behavior around Lila now is similar to Marinette’s behavior around Chloe before the start of this school year, when she didn’t know how to push back against her bully.

Alya only arrived at the beginning of the school year. She only saw Marinette being forced to put up with Chloe’s crap for a day before she started showing her feistier side - thanks in part to Alya’s influence. What’s obvious to the audience and to Nino isn’t so obvious to her, since she’s missing that context.

Nino’ chastises Alya over text for agreeing to go to Lila’s party. Alya just didn’t see a way out of the party without hurting Lila’s feelings. When Nino points out that now MARINETTE’S feelings are hurt, since she’s not invited - the ONLY person in class who’s not invited in fact - Alya’s clearly hurt and frustrated.

You can’t blame Lila for not inviting someone who’s been nothing but mean to her

im not blaming

i’m saying this sucks

I know!!!

Don’t you think I know that? :/

God I wish they’d just work out their stupid drama

Shit I think Mme Bustier just saw me gonna put my phone away rq

Alright I apologized to Marinette

She told me she’s okay with it

Alya’s being stretched thin. She WANTS to stick with Marinette, to believe in and protect her best friend, but all the evidence that she can see and interpret points to Marinette being mean to Lila for no good reason. Which isn’t LIKE her, but Alya doesn’t see a lot of other options. She just wants this over with and for Marinette and Lila to reconcile from whatever caused this animosity so that things can be OK. Because this whole situation is unpleasant for everyone involved... except Lila, but Alya doesn’t know that.

The next day rolls around and Alya comes get Marinette - probably still on Akuma Watch. Plus Alya has a conversation she needs to have with Marinette... which would honestly negate the value of having a friend walk her to school watching for akumas. Though Alya doesn’t know just how BADLY this conversation is gonna go.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not leaving without you, so my fate is in your hands, Marinette.”

Isn’t it always?

This is kinda a funny thing actually. Here Marinette’s probably thinking about how EVERYONE’S fate is in her hands because she’s Ladybug, but narratively it’s BIGGER than that. Marinette has the most information in this whole situation besides MAYBE Lila, and by FAR the most ability to affect things. She has the knowledge and the ability to act on that knowledge to tip the balance and achieve better outcomes. She knows what Alya thinks of Ladybug and that Alya believes that Lila is Ladybug’s BFF. The only information she’s lacking is that Alya actually has good reason to BELIEVE Lila about that.

Problem is she doesn’t have the perspective to really reason through Alya’s decisions and to see what she sees. Especially since it would require her to imagine Lila as a good, kind person whom she herself is unfairly hostile towards. She KNOWS what the real situation is, but seeing the situation from Alya’s point of view requires her to put herself through such mental contortions that she just... can’t. Especially since she’s super stressed right now anyway.

Which means that when Alya talks about the “truce” she’s negotiated with Lila, Marinette has NO patience for thinking through how all of this plays out in Alya’s eyes. Especially this early in the morning.

Satisfied, Alya smiles, and continues. “So, I really thought it wasn’t fair to you to not be there when the entire class gets the chance to go. I understand that you two don’t like each other and want as little interaction as possible. And that’s fair. But for stuff like this, which are essentially group events, Lila has agreed to never exclude or antagonize you – if you extend her the same courtesy.”

Her tired brain needs a moment to process this, and when it does, the cereal in her stomach starts a rebellion, demanding the way up her throat.

And then, just as suddenly, the revolutionary fervor dissipates.

“So,” Marinette says, every word clipped and carefully enunciated. “You want me to let Lila tag along to every event that I organize.”

Alya shakes her head. “I mean, obviously not when it’s just you and me, but for something like this party, or girl’s night out, just stuff that’s big enough where purposeful exclusion gets hurtful…” She trails off, pressing her lips together in disapproval at whatever must be written on Marinette’s face. “Come on. It’s a fair offer.”

“I suppose it is.”

As silence elongates, Alya decides to prod her. “And…?”

“And I’m not interested,” Marinette says.

Honestly, what Alya’s worked out IS very fair for what she believes - and honestly has decent REASON to believe - the situation is. She can’t stop the animosity between Marinette and Lila, not when she can’t identify a cause that makes sense, but maybe she can stop it from getting worse. If Lila was the type of person that Alya believes she is based on what she’s seen of her behavior and what she believes about her connection to Ladybug, then this would be the kind of compromise that would probably work. Because both of them would be kind and decent people at their core who really SHOULD by all rights get along great, but there’s some unknown thing that’s causing them to fight.

Unfortunately that’s NOT the true situation.

Marinette can see Alya’s thought process here. She can see it from Alya’s perspective. But at this point she’s just so done with compromising and putting her own needs and wants on the back burner that she just... doesn’t care.

Exhaling in frustration, Alya squeezes her eyes shut, likely fighting to keep her composure. Marinette can almost see her thought process. The kid gloves need to stay on. Can’t be mean to the recently-rejected potential Akuma-victim with an irrational hatred for poor, innocent Lila.

Marinette watches the struggle with a strangely detached sort of interest. She knows she should be feeling something. Might have exploded if this conversation had happened yesterday.

Marinette has enough information about what Alya’s like and what she knows to see her viewpoint. She just can’t empathize with her right now. Because she’s just SO frustrated with Alya and everyone and SO done. She doesn’t have enough bandwidth to put herself in Alya’s shoes and try to manipulate the situation to one that’s better for everyone.

Whatever it is, looking at her best friend inspires none of the highs and lows it usually does. No warm glow of joy at having her around, and no agonizing splinter burrowing its way into her heart either. Only one thought is left.

You’re not fighting for me.

So what’s the point of fighting for you?

While Alya IS fighting for Marinette, it’s not to the extent or in the way that Marinette wants. Because to Alya, she’s trying to mediate between two good forces that inexplicably detest each other. Or... no. Maybe more accurately, two good forces where one of them inexplicably hates the other and the other wonders what they did to piss the other off. But while Marinette SEES that Alya thinks that’s the real situation, she doesn’t have the bandwidth to internalize that knowledge.

Based on what Alya knows, she’s actually handling the situation about as well as I could hope a fourteen-year-old to navigate it. But there’s a lot she DOESN’T know and that’s biting her right now.

Because for Marinette, even though intellectually she knows how Alya views the situation, emotionally she’s seeing the situation as it ACTUALLY is, with Alya asking her to invite this horrible person who wants nothing more than to make her suffer to her own events, in exchange for being able to go to Lila’s. And for that situation, Alya ISN’T fighting enough or in the right way.

Alya actually lays out her perspective pretty clearly, in case there was any doubt.

“God, Marinette, this isn’t like you. Why are you doing this?” Alya’s eyes are growing shiny, voice rising. “Are you really asking me to ostracize some girl who’s done nothing wrong just because you don’t like her? Is this the type of mean girl shit we’re at now? Do you want me to go up to Lila and tell her I’m not going to her stupid party after all? You know I changed schools to get away from bullshit like that!”

This really makes me wonder what kind of circumstances Alya went through in the past. Honestly she’s actually navigating this whole conflict surprisingly well so far I think, based on what she knows and believes about the situation. From this, I’m wondering whether Marinette was Alya’s first friend that she’d count as a close friend, one who she doesn’t just enjoy spending time around, but who she values closely, who isn’t just a fair weather friend and who will BE there for Alya, and who Alya will be there for in turn.

Because even though it doesn’t seem like it to Marinette right now, Alya IS being there for her as best she can. Being a good friend doesn’t just mean going along with anything your friend says, does, or thinks. That’s Sabrina’s “friendship” with Chloe. It also means trying to help when your friend is struggling. Trying to give help and support when you can, while also keeping them from causing harm while they’re lashing out. It can mean standing up to your friends. And from what Alya knows of the situation? This IS the kind of situation where you’d offer support and try to compromise, but ultimately put your foot down if they were causing harm to anyone else.

Really the only thing I might fault Alya for here is her assumption that Marinette’s acting this way because she’s jealous. But honestly? I think that’s just Alya’s desperate way of trying to understand, to reconcile the girl she knows with what she’s seen of Marinette the past few weeks. Because the alternative is that either Marinette’s changed from the girl Alya used to know, or that she’s always been like this and wasn’t as nice and friendly and just overall good as Alya thought. Which is why Alya says that this isn’t like Marinette and asks why she’s doing this. She doesn’t want it to be one of those two reasons, but now she’s beginning to think that it might be. At least if it was jealousy all of this would make SENSE to Alya.

“Because the one and only demand I do have is that you believe me when I say Lila is a bad person.” As she speaks, certainty hardens within. Yes. This is what she wants, and she will accept nothing less. “That’s not something I can compromise on.”

This is a LOT to ask without good reason. Marinette has that reason. Alya doesn’t.

“Where is y–“

“Fuck the evidence.”

Alya rears back, eyes wide.

A tiny nudge, that’s all it would take. Lila has built a house of cards just waiting to collapse. One transformation into Ladybug and a casual interview with a certain blogger would undo her.

Marinette holds the key to ending all this. All this pain, all this frustration, gone, just like that. Vindicated at last. And she could do it tonight, never mind what Adrien told her.

But that won’t really make things turn back to normal, will it?

Because it’s not about the evidence. It never was.

“I’m asking that you trust me, Alya.”

And when the girl meant to be her best friend hesitates, that’s all the answer Marinette needs. She turns to walk to school, and ignores Alya’s pleas for peace.

From Marinette’s perspective, this makes sense and is right. And objectively, the reader has enough information to know that she IS right.

But from a different perspective?

MARINETTE is the one lashing out at Lila for seemingly no good reason.

MARINETTE is the one accusing Lila of lying without sufficient evidence.

MARINETTE is the one asking Alya to believe that Lila is a horrible person without having a damn good reason to believe it.

If this was the other way around - if Lila had been around since the beginning of the school year, and Marinette had transferred in, and their personalities and moral alignments were the same - would it really have reflected well on Alya if she had sided with Lila the same way she’s siding with Marinette generally and trying to fix things? Would it have reflected well if Lila asked her to just TRUST her that Marinette is a bad person with no evidence to back it up, and Alya had believed her and started shunning Marinette for that reason?

The reader and Marinette know that Lila’s evil. But Alya DOESN’T. And Marinette simply SAYING that she’s evil isn’t sufficient reason for Alya to believe it.

They spend the first half of the school day in silence, Marinette giving her bench partner the cold shoulder. Alya alternates between trying to get Marinette’s attention, growing frustrated and mirroring the silent treatment, only to try again. The cycle repeats.

Eventually, as lunch break comes to a close, she slides more chocolate Marinette’s way.

It’s a Swiss brand.

And Marinette laughs. Laughs and laughs, until Alya’s hopeful expression turns into one of concern, clearly wondering whether she should be calling for the school nurse.

When she recovers from her laughing fit, Marinette collects her prize, because why not, and smiles like a shark. “Thanks, Switzerland.”

Thinking she’s in on the joke, Alya’s shoulders sag in relief, and she laughs politely to break the tension.

Alya still doesn’t want to lose Marinette as a friend. And honestly? Here I’m kinda impressed that ALYA wasn’t the one giving Marinette the silent treatment. Because from what she knows of the situation, Marinette’s in the wrong. But she REALLY doesn’t want to lose Marinette.

And even after that fight, Alya wants to be with Marinette and comfort her and hang out with her, to offer her emotional support and be her friend, even though she doesn’t understand what’s going on with Marinette.

The bell rings and the class immediately starts chattering about tomorrow’s party – where to meet, what to wear and who to share a ride with. Marinette barely takes notice, lost in her daydream. She only starts paying attention when she nearly trips down the stairs, only saved by Alya’s quick reflexes.

They stare at each other for a long moment, Alya’s hand still on her shoulder, and then Marinette is suddenly being crushed in a hug.

“Want to hang out on Sunday?” Alya murmurs near her ear.

“Family plans,” Marinette lies, and then lies some more by wrapping her arms around Alya in return.

Kind of a side note, but I love Alya catching her when she falls and offering Marinette emotional comfort with a hug. Alya IS supporting Marinette, even if Marinette’s not really in the headspace to recognize it right now.

Alya’s text messages with Nino give more insight into her thought process as she tries to navigate the situation she finds herself in. She doesn’t want to skip the party and lose Lila as a friend, but she doesn’t want to go and hurt Marinette further either.

She’s still trying to figure out WHY Marinette hates Lila so much. Because from what she knows of Marinette and Lila, it doesn’t make much sense. At this point, she thinks that it has to do with Marinette getting a bad early impression of Lila and it sticking, because that’s something she can at least sorta see causing this that doesn’t completely go against what she knows of Marinette or Lila.

Nino floats that Marinette might have a reason, but simply saying that doesn’t really give much insight into what that reason IS nor whether it actually IS a good reason. Jealousy is the best reason Alya can come up with, so she goes with that. Because that’s the only thing that might cause Marinette to lose her head for seemingly little reason, from what Alya can see.

Nino brings up that since Adrienette has thoroughly sunk, that that’s probably not the reason anymore. But Alya has a counterargument.

First: lasting impression

Second: if Adrien got together with Lila NOW, that would be like THE ultimate blow to her self esteem

Honestly, those are somewhat reasonable. And it’s not like Alya has a better explanation. Even if Alya DID know that Lila was a liar, it still wouldn’t explain Marinette’s sheer level of animosity towards Lila. She doesn’t know that Lila is actively targeting Marinette, nor that one of Lila’s most pervasive lies revolves AROUND Marinette. Heck, LILA doesn’t even know the second one.

Right now Alya’s trying to thread a needle. She texts Lila later to tell her she’s skipping the party, she’s sorry but she really doesn’t want Marinette to be akumatized, and tries to reassure Lila that Marinette really is a very nice person.

About tomorrow, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. Please, please don’t take this personally, I’m just super worried about Marinette getting akumatized! This thing with Adrien hit her hard

It’s just going to be this one time

Okay :(

I mean I get where you’re coming from

But I have to be honest, it feels really shitty of Marinette to be throwing around ultimatums like this

I promise she’s not usually like this

THIS is how Alya’s trying to stand up for Marinette. By trying to protect her feelings even when she thinks she’s wrong, and trying to put out fires from the bridges she thinks Marinette’s burning with Lila. Just because she’s not standing up for Marinette in the way that Marinette WANTS her to, doesn’t mean she’s not doing it. If the situation was the way that Alya perceives it to be, this would be the kind of “fighting for” that Marinette would NEED, even if it’s not the response she’d WANT.

Luckily by the time Monday rolled around Alya turned out to be fine with missing the party, since it meant she was there to see Ladybug and Chat Noir play tag all over the city.

Alya’s still being super careful and considerate with Marinette, trying her best not to exacerbate any of her stress points, so long as doing so doesn’t hurt anyone else. For instance, she tries not to talk about LadyNoir too much because she’s fears that talking about romance might bring up her heartbreak again. Something which Marinette recognizes.

Marinette frowns, suspicious of her stubborn friend’s sudden acquiescence. Alya can wax lyrical about the beauty of the SS LadyNoir for hours, and no amount of naysaying on Marinette’s part has ever cut it short. Why–

Oh.

No discussing romance with the heartbroken girl.

Even later - and I don’t know whether this is later that same day or a few days later, not that it matters much - Alya’s still in “pamper her bestie to help her through heartbreak” mode.

“…ave time for movie night?” Alya asks, the cheer in her voice just a tad too forced. “Just you, me, some snacks, and a whole lot of self-care.”

Marinette hesitates, but then there’s a smile in her words. “Yes. That sounds really nice actually.”

She also subtly fends off Adrien, since she KNOWS that Marinette isn’t ready to face him yet.

“What kind of movie did you have in mind?” Marinette asks.

“Your choice, girl.” And then, as if sensing his scrutiny, Alya’s narrowed eyes fixate on Adrien. “But I was thinking something without any dumb boys in it.”

Sadly Alya’s STILL desperately trying to reconcile Lila and Marinette, something which just plain won’t work and she can’t understand WHY. Based on the information she has about both of them they SHOULD be able to get along just fine. So she texts Lila and tries to get her to “allow” Marinette to come to her girl’s night, even though Marinette won’t reciprocate.

So I hate to bring this topic up again

But can we invite Marinette too?

Now I know what you’re thinking but she’s in a much better headspace now! I won’t deny that she’s been super rude to you but I swear if you two could just get to know each other I’m certain she’ll change her mind about you. And Marinette’s not the type of person who shies away from taking responsibility for bad behavior, she’ll apologize for sure.

Not that you’re obligated to forgive her

Alya IS fighting for Marinette. She’s fighting for her not to lose out on potential friendships, and to not become the kind of person who her classmates will shun because she’s being mean to Lila for seemingly no reason.

This whole feud makes no sense to Alya, but she’s trying HARD to fix things anyway, to include Marinette as much as she can and to keep her from being left out, even though she thinks Marinette is wrong about Lila. Even though she has REASON to believe that Marinette is wrong about Lila.

Honestly writing this whole thing makes me wonder what Marinette would do if she and Alya had swapped places, had swapped what they did and didn’t know. I’m guessing Alya at least would’ve been a lot more aggressive than Marinette’s been, though I dunno what Marinette would do under such circumstances.

Alya texts Marinette and tells her that Lila extended an invitation without any strings attached, but Marinette still shot her down, saying she wanted nothing to do with her. Alya doesn’t push her too hard on that at least, instead noting that she’s been withdrawn lately, and letting her know that people miss her when she’s missing. Letting her know that people CARE about her and notice when she’s not there or isn’t herself, and then reminding her to engage in self-care and not to work too hard.

I will maintain that based on what she knows and believes of the situation, Alya is actually being a pretty awesome friend to Marinette. She can only operate on the information she has though.

Marinette tells Alya that she’d like her to stop trying to get her to hang out with Lila, and Alya appears to accept that.

alya

i know you reaching out is coming from a well-meaning place

and i do appreciate that

but i’d appreciate it more if you stopped trying to get me to hang out with lila

I get that

It’s just

It looks like Lila is going to make girl’s night a regular thing

I don’t want you to be left out, Marinette

Marinette at least KNOWS what Alya’s trying to accomplish. She knows both the situation and the people involved well enough to put that together. But she has no bandwidth to do more than realize where Alya’s coming from. She has a way of changing things, of giving Alya the information she needs to figure out how to proceed better, but sh doesn’t WANT to just hand Alya all the information about how much of a liar and a terrible person Lila is. She wants Alya to just trust her implicitly, evidence or no evidence. A point of view that makes sense with what Marinette has gone through, but not a terribly realistic one.

Huh. Actually I wonder whether part of that may come from Marinette being Ladybug? Because the whole city trusts her unquestioningly, and Chat in particular will go along with anything she says to do, no matter whether what she says makes sense or not or even whether it goes against what they try to do, like giving up and handing over their Miraculouses. And while intellectually she may know that as Marinette, there’s not much more reason for people to have that level of unquestioning trust in her as a civilian than they do in any other ordinary person, emotionally it still would hurt since she’s the same person either way, even though she’s the only one who knows that.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand: Alya.

Lila tries to manipulate Nino into DJing the party for free again, but he sees through her tactics, especially when she becomes more manipulative about it. Unfortunately Alya isn’t there to see exactly how Lila ‘asks’ him to do so, to see how clearly she’s being manipulative.

This incident gives Nino some of the evidence of Lila being a bad person that Alya sorely needs and is lacking in. Nino has directly seen and experienced how clearly manipulative Lila is. But Alya still hasn’t yet.

Nino wants to try to persuade Alya that Lila isn’t what she seems. Unfortunately, he’s not as good at clearly laying out and arguing his reasoning as Alya is without having lots of time to come up with stuff in advance, and Alya’s extremely curious by nature and wants to know what Nino needs to talk to her about. So she ends up pressing him into conversation before he’s ready, though she does at least TRY to restrain herself at first.

Unfortunately Alya’s frustrated and isn’t exactly in the mood to listen to more anti-Lila talk without some very good reasoning and evidence to back it up. She’s been through a lot of that with Marinette lately, who she’s kinda had to walk on eggshells around. She wasn’t expecting it from Nino too.

And while she’s willing to walk on eggshells around Marinette, especially with how much she’s still hurting from Adrien’s rejection, she doesn’t have the patience to do so around Nino, who has served as a third-party to this conflict that Alya’s found herself in the middle of, someone she could vent to and discuss this openly with. Him so thoroughly taking sides changes that, eliminating her main support.

So she lashes out in her frustration.

“It’s different with Lila,” he says. “Marinette hates her, Alya. And I’m starting to see why.”

“Oh, right. Because of the,” Alya raises her hands and curls her fingers into air quotes, “bad vibes.”

Golden eyes narrow, and Nino’s voice grows colder than Alya has ever heard it before. “I told you I wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Don’t mock me for not being at my most eloquent when you’re the one choosing to put me on the spot.”

“I’m not mocking y–“

“Yes. You are. And you always do this–”

“No, I don’t!”

“–but just because I’m not as good at debate as you are, that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”

Alya flinches and silence falls as he looks as taken aback by his outburst as she feels.

This has clearly been building for awhile. And Alya can see the truth in Nino’s words here. She’s not MEANING to hurt him. But she’s doing it accidentally.

This kind of thing has been happening a lot with Alya lately. She’s hurting the people she cares about by accident and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Though she at least TRIES to here, calming down and attempting to listen more openly and not to cut him off prematurely.

“Okay,” she says soothingly, and reaches to take his hand. It lies limp and unresponsive in her grasp, even when she squeezes. “I’m listening.”

He gazes at her for a long moment, then makes another frustrated noise. “Look. I understand why you don’t want to have to choose, but Marinette is really hurting over this. Don’t you realize this could drive a real wedge between you two?”

“Of course I realize that!” Recognizing that she just raised her voice, she tempers it to be more gentle. “Why do you think I’m trying so hard to fix it?”

“And how’s that working out?”

Alya is trying and trying and TRYING, but nothing she’s doing is helping and she doesn’t know what to do. And just telling her that Marinette’s hurting and it might drive a wedge between them doesn’t help. Alya KNOWS this. She doesn’t need it reiterated. She needs more information, because right now she’s just being told to choose based on nothing but her friends’ words, and not even about anything specific.

Notably, Lila has NOT tried to force such a choice on Alya... yet. And honestly? If Alya was describing this situation to an outsider, even trying to be as fair as possible about it, it would very much sound like Lila was in the right and like Marinette and Nino were being bad friends for trying to force her to make this choice simply based on them not liking Lila for unspecified reasons without evidence, while Lila’s actually willing to reach out.

I had to deal with a few manipulative friends growing up, the type who tried to use the whole “if you don’t do X I won’t be your friend anymore” tactic. This sort of reminds me of that, at least from what Alya is experiencing. Her friends are trying to make her choose them and throw Lila under a bus and at least implying that they might cut off their friendship with her if she doesn’t. And the reason right now basically boils down to “because I’ll be upset if you don’t”.

Granted, that’s partly on Alya for not letting Nino gather his thoughts sufficiently to actually make an argument, but still.

“But Lila’s not malicious,” Alya says, and cannot help but let her frustration bleed into her tone. “And it’s not fair to ask me to write her off as that with no evidence. She’s Ladybug’s best friend, for god’s sake! Ladybug isn’t friends with bad people!”

I really love Alya here. Because honestly? She’s right. And it’s not like anyone ELSE has been asked to write Lila off without evidence. Nino and Marinette didn’t write her off until they personally experienced evidence that she’s a terrible person. Getting upset with Alya for not doing the same when she HASN’T received such evidence may make sense emotionally, but it ISN’T fair.

And then of course, Ladybug gets tangled up in this whole mess. Well, technically she has been from the beginning, but it’s not like Alya KNOWS that Marinette is Ladybug, so for her they count as two completely separate relationships.

Here Alya DOES genuinely stumble. I don’t blame her for believing that Lila is Ladybug’s BFF, she’s been given very good evidence that she is, and it’s not like she’s been given much opportunity to ask Ladybug about Lila - or ANYTHING - lately. But her priorities are getting skewed.

“Nino!” Alya shouts. “If you’re going to ask me to trust your gut feeling, then how about you consider trusting mine! Ladybug is actively going out of her way not to acknowledge me!” Miserably wrapping her arms around her waist, she whispers, “She always used to – to give me a wink, or a nod, or something. But now she just swings away, even when I know I caught her attention.”

Nino takes a deep breath, hesitantly reaching to brush his fingers along her shoulder. “Look, babe, I get it, you know I do. Being a hero is fun and all, but–“

“Fun?” Alya repeats incredulously. “Fun? Nino, it’s a dream come true! And you can’t ask me to give that up and antagonize Ladybug’s best friend because you and Marinette got bad vibes. That’s not a fair thing to ask!”

“Yeah, well,” Nino says, gaze growing cold again. “Life’s not fair. And I didn’t take you for the kind of person who’d sacrifice her friends for ambition.”

Now it seems like Alya’s choosing between friendship and sucking up to Lila in order to be a superhero again. I don’t think that’s what she really means - certainly as the ONLY reason for Alya’s reluctance to antagonize Lila without good reason - but NINO’S taking it that way right now, and that IS the reason she just stated. It certainly plays a factor, though even without that angle, I doubt that Alya would just shun Lila because Nino and Marinette don’t like her without being provided with more of a reason. But it probably ups her standards of evidence, because she has more to lose if it turns out that Nino and Marinette are wrong.

She rears back, choking on an angry yell. Heavy silence falls, a crushing weight on her shoulders broken only by their harsh breathing.

“…you don’t mean that,” she whispers.

He exhales, shaking his head. “I don’t. But babe – whether you’re aware of it or not, this is the path you’re on. And I want to have your back, but there’s only so far I can go with you.”

God, has he ever looked at her like this before? So – so disappointed?

Blinking back the hurt, she reaches for his hand again. “Alright, can we just – just stop? Please? Let’s forget this happened, okay?”

Thing is, Alya’s STUCK at this point. She’s losing everyone and everything she cares about and her attempts to fix it only make things worse and she doesn’t know what’s going on or what to do and everyone’s mad at her and SHE JUST WANTS THINGS TO BE OK AGAIN.

Alya and Nino become akumatized into Oblivio due to how upset Alya is and how much she just wants to forget that argument ever happened. When she wakes up, Ladybug and Chat Noir are kissing, like in canon. So she snaps a photo.

I honestly don’t blame her for that, either in the fic OR canon. She just woke up and the first thing she sees is her OTP kissing, there hasn’t really been an opportunity for her higher brain functions to engage. Her actions afterwards carry a lot more weight.

Chat Noir and Ladybug realize what happened and Ladybug flees, even as Alya calls out to her.

His somersaulting thoughts are interrupted by the beep of Ladybug’s earrings. She blinks as if coming out of a trance, then whispers, “I have to go.”

“No, Ladybug, please wait!” Alya calls out, rushing forward, but his Lady has already leapt away.

And she doesn’t look back. At either of them.

Alya WANTS to talk to Ladybug, presumably to try to straighten out the whole mess with Heroes Day and maybe to get confirmation that Lila IS Ladybug’s BFF, since Nino doubted it. Sadly she doesn’t get the opportunity. Alya thinks that Ladybug in part might have been fleeing her because she’s mad at her, and honestly? She might not be totally wrong there.

Alya and Nino talk after Ladybug leaves.

Alya blinks, Nino’s voice pulling her out of her reverie, and she turns to look over her shoulder. He’s looking at her with concern with his eyes – probably because she’s been standing motionless, doing nothing but silently stare at the roof’s edge.

Ladybug hadn’t even looked back.

“Told you she’s mad at me,” Alya says with a brittle smile, and regrets it instantly when Nino’s expression grows hooded. What is she doing? She just got the two of them Akumatized and the first words out of her mouth directed at him are about how she’s right.

“I don’t think that was about you,” he says stiffly.

Right now it just seems like everything Alya says and does is WRONG and she KNOWS her friends are hurting but she doesn’t know how to fix things. Everyone’s mad at her and she has nowhere to turn. Nino was the one person who wasn’t at least sort of upset with her, and now he is too. And she just can’t stop making mistakes that just upset the people around her more and more.

And then there’s the matter of the picture Alya just took.

“Hopefully,” she murmurs, clutching her phone to her chest. For all that she managed to capture a priceless scoop, sure to set the internet aflame, it doesn’t feel like a triumph at all.

Will Ladybug be angry if she publishes it? Angrier?

Maybe she should consult Lila, she’ll know what Ladybug would be comfortable with…

Alya really wants to publish it, but she wants to check first. She can’t ask Ladybug, so she wants to ask Lila, which honestly is reasonable. It’s really, REALLY tempting to just post it, but she doesn’t want to upset Ladybug more than she already has.

Chat torpedoes that.

“I wish.” His lips twitch in amusement. “No, I was reminded I had to do something. So, Alya, right? Can I borrow your phone?”

“Um.” She glances down at her treasured companion, screen still displaying The Kiss that would undoubtedly cement her blog’s reputation as the number one source for Ladynoir-related news. Alya rarely lends her phone to anyone, not even her friends who are used to her overprotective ways at this point. Yet unwilling to deny one of the heroes of Paris a request when she’s already on thin ice, she finds herself holding it out toward Chat Noir. “Sure.”

Claws clacking against the protective case, he plucks it from her hand. The slight frown on his expression melts away as soon as he catches a glimpse of the photo she managed to capture. His gaze darts hungrily over the screen, pupils growing wide and round. A wistful smile plays at his lips as he stares for a long moment, enraptured.

Then his thumb taps on the display.

“Annnd deleted.”

“What!?” Alya shrieks, snatching the phone back at once. Nonono, he can’t have–

“My Lady is a private person,” Chat Noir says, both his smile and his voice gaining a sharp edge as he turns to leave. “Journalism is all well and good, but nobody likes a paparazzi.”

She DOES at least hand her phone over, if only reluctantly. Though she’d probably have been a lot MORE reluctant in that case, considering how hesitant she was to hand over the Fox Miraculous after the first time. She still did it though.

She freaks out afterwards, having not had any preparation for what was coming and having the one positive of what just happened snatched away.

And while Chat has a point about paparazzi, Alya’s not exactly in a position to think calmly about what happened and re-evaluate her eagerness to post a private moment I think. She might realize that they were right, but her headspace right now... I don’t know. Because now she’s pretty clearly seen it demonstrated that BOTH the Heroes of Paris are unhappy with her in some capacity. She doesn’t HAVE anyone.

Actually it sorta makes me think of Marinette, how she can see Alya’s point-of-view on the whole Lila situation but is unable to sympathize with it at all due to her own mental bandwidth being near capacity. Really all of these kids just need a freaking BREAK.

That’s as far as “Lies We Tell (Ourselves)” has gotten so far. Honestly after really digging into the nitty-gritty of Alya’s character arc so far, I think she’s actually handled the Lila-Marinette situation better than could be reasonably expected, considering the information she’s operating off of. I don’t know whether anyone else knowing only what she knows would have done better. She DOES need to improve on her relations with Ladybug and being a hero, but part of that seems to be ambition going to her head a little, and needing a reminder that Ladybug isn’t just a celebrity, she’s a person too. Those are reminders that adults often need as well honestly.

Hopefully she remembers what being a hero REALLY means. Because anyone can get a little lost sometimes, but she needs something to tell her what she can do that’s RIGHT. Alya’s perfectly willing to stand up to bullies and protect her friends, but when it’s not clear who’s the bully and who’s the friend? Not so easy.

I actually feel really bad for Alya right now. Because while Marinette has lamented how no one fights for her, Alya’s actually experiencing that right now more than Marinette was. She doesn’t have a friend like Chat to run to and seek comfort from. Everyone she’s close to is mad at her for one reason or another and she can’t fix it, however much she wants to.

I hope things work out for her. She needs to re-examine her reasons for wanting to be a superhero, but aside from that, she really HAS done everything right or as close to right as is reasonable based on what she knows. And that’s all ANYONE can do.

#lies we tell (ourselves)#alya cesaire #ml analysis #miraculous ladybug #my analysis #long post

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