#also i think a part of the difficulty being lower in chinese for me?

[rigelmejo]

japanese learning is so fun it will be like

AH! Incredible! i understood that!

then wow. i have. no idea. in the slightest. what i’ve just read/heard. 

at the moment the no idea parts are almost certainly hiragana (or audio only) that is not a cognate to a language i know better. which fair enough. an opaque language is going to be more of a struggle. 

there is a huge payoff in japanese though when i understand something, if that makes sense. like... with japanese, the day i could read a single line (even a tiny one) in a manga in year 2 of learning was IMMENSE. the day i could comprehend a caption on instagram was Awesome. even now, just being able to comprehend PART of a conversation in a video game scene is so cool. just being able to play 2 hours of kingdom hearts in japanese (even though i know the game by memory) is so awesome to just pick up one tidbit of new info - some translation difference, some new word, some kind of formality/informality that was never preserved in the english translation. reading a novel sentence... just sentence... and not being overwhelmed. reading a novel Chapter and actually knowing some of what’s going on... especially when i still remember when i could Not even read a simple manga chapter for preteens and follow the basic overall main idea without the help of a dictionary. japanese always feels like a very long process, journey, to me. but it also makes each smaller achievement feel like a lot when i manage to do it. 

#rant #just musing to myself #also i think a part of the difficulty being lower in chinese for me? #is that once you know like 2000 hanzi or however many hanzi #you start hearing sounds you know REGULARLY and often #so even when there is NO cognate to english. there usually is some similarity to a chinese word i Already Know when i encounter new words #i rarely run into new words now with totally new hanzi and i recognize all the radicals now #so i RARELY run into a hanzi i dont even have a tiny guess of pronunciation/meaning for #whereas japanese? i just do not know the sound commonalities yet. i do not know enough words #so when i learn new japanese words i often have NO existing japanese word i already know to Relate it to in my mind and help remember it #this makes japanese take much more for me to initially remember new things #whereas chinese? the totally brand new is often at least a tiny bit recognizable. and often decently guessable #sort of like with english and seeing new latin or technical terms. i have a vague guess at Least for new word meanings and remembering how #to say/write them #so like. with chinese. i feel once you know a decent amount. the rest gets at least a bit less totally unknown. #still fairly unknown. but you have like. spelling (radicals) sound and any familiar hanzi in the word #to help you figure out vaguely what you're looking at

[lingyijiang01]

I chose Option 2 for this assignment, Create a 5 - 7 minute remix based on Peter Sculthorpe’s piece, Little Passacaglia.

This wasn't my first choice actually, I was leaning towards the Option 1 at first, but the single sound source was too broad a topic for me to start with. I first wanted to use my favorite song as a sampled sound source, but at my level, I couldn't separate the vocals and accompaniment of the song very well. If the ambient sound is used as the sample, then the difficulty of composing and arranging the music will be very high, and a lot of creativity will be required. As the saying goes, less is more. Eventually, I decided to make the Option 2 as my homework.

First of all, I downloaded Little Passacaglia and listened to it several times. It is a beautiful piano song with a hint of sadness. After reading the pdf file, I realized that it is an anti-war and anti-terrorism song. Therefore, it shows the grief of losing family members in the war, but also full of hope for the future, and has a force of gentle.

Since it is a remix based on the original song, I decided to rewrite the original song to GarageBand in the first step. Rewriting the audio without downloading can make the rhythm and details better adapt to the subsequent adjustments so that I can follow up and I can take more control of the arrangement and mix. For me without an external keyboard, this is a really big project. I moved the staves to GarageBand with a little of my basics on the piano. When I did it, I even felt like I was in a dream. But it's finally done!

The next step is to consider the distribution of the musical form. I divided the piece into several parts, without changing the order, but repeated processing in some places, and made the whole piece revolve around the first four bars, developing as the whole motivation. I chose an instrument that uses a somewhat retro and soothing bell tone as the main melody. The Chinese literal translation is a glass bell. The tone is more agile and also sounds sad.

In terms of the arrangement of the harmony, I first used the piano with the same retro tone to pad a layer of four-bar chords according to the direction of the main melody. In order to make the sense of hearing richer, a brighter and crisper piano tone was added, and the same content was played. When the main melody was repeated a second time, I wanted a clear contrast to the first, so I added broken chords with a buzzing vintage tone and drums, bass, ambiances, and more. In my opinion, they are quite harmonious😂

The addition of broken chords and the rhythm of the bass are all references to city pop songs. Recently, I prefer to listen to Japanese songs from the last century. As a music style that rose after the war, I think this is also a kind of proof that people yearn for a better life in times of peace. I hope that the attempt to arrange the city pop style can make the whole song feel more hopeful.

In the last section of the melody, I changed the timbre of the main melody. In the original song, the rhythm here changed from four beats per measure to five beats per measure, and the emotion of the song also changed. Therefore, I made the timbre of this main melody old, and it sounded like a memory.

The last step is to adjust the volume and eq and other post-production. I basically do it based on my sense of hearing, need a crescendo here or a lower sound there. I also tried sidechain compression, which is often seen in City pop and vaporwave style songs, it sounds really cool and enhances the rhythm. So I also hope that I can do a sidechain compression on the two tracks of the main melody and drums, so I found a lot of videos and introductions about sidechain compression to watch but found that my GarageBand does not support this function, only the professional version or other music production software can directly process this sound effect.

Does not being able to directly sidechain compression mean that such an effect cannot be achieved? I think the sense of hearing brought by sidechain compression is that the volume of the main melody can change with the drum beat, so is it possible to manually change the volume of the main melody to make the work sound like it uses sidechain compression? I decided to give it a try, and it turns out that it doesn't work😅Manual can't achieve precision, and it will be a huge amount of work, and it sounds strange. But overall it is an interesting and meaningful attempt!

ps. Since I have recently had myopia surgery with lens implantation, my homework was submitted according to the date stated in the email, which is today. Although I applied for a simple extension, I am not sure if the application was successful. Dear Damian, hope you could let me know if I have successfully applied for this simple extension, and if I have other required information, I can also fill it up later. Best wishes!

[olderthannetfic]

I have autism so writing experiences is hard because I can hardly view it through a neurotypical lens.

Writing other ethnicities is harder because I don’t just need the starting block, but I need access to resources to do research and I find no where kinda offers that.

Like, I want to write a story on someone who is mixed race, but there’s too much information to parse which makes it impossible for me to figure out what’s the best way to go about things.

And this isn’t me being, “oh poor white autistic person” but rather it gets really hard to do anything when you don’t know how to do it, and the instructions are never clarified or clear enough.

I think I’ve literally seen people say, “then don’t write people of colour” because they’re frustrated someone doesn’t understand how vague “do your own research and work hard to understand these people” can be sometimes.

Autistic Anon on the writing outside experiences, that doesn’t just apply to that either. Writing advice is very fucked to navigate for myself and I’m just frustrated with it all because any discussion of that part of difficulty is usually shot down or dismissed as, “oh no it’s easy you’re just not trying hard enough.”

To be honest, the actual hardest and most necessary part of writing is 'put butt in chair, finish book'.

I think one can also set oneself a harder or easier task. The bar for tastefully writing urban fantasy where not everyone happens to be white, but 90% of the plot revolves around werewolf forensics is much lower than the bar for tastefully writing about What It Means To Be Cherokee In 2021. There are books that do implicitly claim to speak for the group depicted, and there are books that don't.

In your case, it might make more sense to just write something first and then let other people read it and tell you what they think. This does presuppose that you can find beta readers whom you trust and that you're willing to revise if you don't like what they tell you.

There being too much information to parse is part of the lesson: people have extremely varied views. Like my other commenter pointed out, many, many resources are aimed at writing POC in an American context or, at best, nonwhite diaspora characters in white majority countries. If that's what you want to do, great. If you're more interested in writing Indians in India or Chinese people in China, you could start your research by consuming a bunch of media from those places. What do the people in question say about themselves?

If you want to write a mixed race character, the first thing to figure out is what mix of backgrounds they have, and where they grew up and are living now. Your question needs to be more like "What difference does it make for my forensic anthropologist working in D.C. to be half black and half Japanese?" not "What is it like to be mixed race?" You also want to think about genre. If you're writing fluffy contemporary romance, then you probably don't want to depict realistic life on a dating app (because for many people, that involves many fetishy messages based on racist stereotypes, and that's depressing to read about).

The best piece of advice I can give anyone is to make their characters compelling. People will forgive a lot if they enjoy the character and the story. If the character feels like a sidelined sidekick, they're going to be a lot more critical. Cultures vary a lot, but basic human emotions don't. People love their chosen family. They have mixed feelings about their cultures and governments. They like food. Yadda yadda.

You don't have to write in a neurotypical way about neurotypical characters. You can only write like yourself.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Thank you so much for your brilliant Untamed Rewatch. I laughed, aww'd and got teary (at the same time) the entire time! One thing puzzled me though: you pointed out in one post that Jiang family didn't give the family name to WWX even though they took him in. But given JFM liked WWX's parents wouldn't it be right NOT to give WWX Jiang name since it would "end" the Wei lineage if he did? In fact wasn't Yu Ziyuan very derisive about Wen Zhuliu abandoning his birth surname in favor of Wen name?

I interpret Yu Ziyuan’s criticism of Wen Zhuliu as being about abandoning his clan, not his family - she’s very concerned with clan loyalty and rank. 

As for keeping the Wei surname -- I can’t find a lot about historical adoption & fosterage practice in China, and contemporary Chinese law allows adopted children to take their adoptive father or mother’s surname, or to retain their original name.  So I can’t say what would be “normal” for the imaginary setting of The Untamed.  However, Word of Honor, which is set in a similar fantasy world (Wuxia rather than Xianxia, but they’ve got a lot in common) has a character who reverts to his father’s original surname even though he was born with a new, clan-bestowed surname.  So I don’t think being given a new name sweeps the old name away forever, in this setting. 

In contemporary US adoption of Chinese children, which I know a certain amount about (including how problematic it, and all sorts of adoption in a capitalist world, can be), there’s a strong emphasis on giving the child a name as a way of claiming them and signaling that they are permanently part of your family. But there’s also a strong emphasis on not separating a child from their history or identity. 

In my family this means that my nephew, who was born in China and adopted through the international program, goes by his original Chinese first name, and has a middle name from my SIL’s family, and my brother’s surname. Whereas my son, who was born in the US to parents who are from China, goes by an English name (Charlie) that was given by his birth parents, because it sounds like his Chinese name (家林, Jiālín). His Chinese name is one of his two middle names; the other one, and his surname, are from us.  We’ve also made sure he knows his birth parents’ surnames; we are in regular contact with them so secrecy would be ridiculous in any case. 

Generalizing a bit: In the US nowadays it’s normal for children to know they are adopted, and pretty normal for them to feel comfortable disclosing this. Open adoptions are encouraged in the US, meaning children have information about their birth families and might also have ongoing contact with them. In China, it’s still pretty normal for adoptions to be secret; Wen Ning’s reasoning that knowing about his origins might make Lan SIzhui unhappy is a pretty mainstream belief. In the US, we really prize information, and believe that individuals have the right to know their origins, but that’s a cultural value, not a universal truth. I hold to this particular value, but other ways of handling it aren’t necessarily wrong, since none of this happens in a vacuum.  

In particular, the importance of being filial creates a lot of complexity when a child is aware of two sets of parents. Note that the first thing that Lan Sizhui does upon remembering his original identity is to leave his adoptive parents to go build a memorial for his deceased biological family.  It’s fine for him, because they’re all friends, but it can create some real difficulties if a child has two families who are at odds, or live in very different circumstances.  If you watch Go Ahead (which is WONDERFUL), you can see how an informally-adopted child is constantly reminded (not by his adoptive dad, but by others) to be grateful, that he doesn’t really belong, that he could be sent away, and how that weighs on him and affects his choices.

Coming back to your actual question--sorry for the dissertation!--I think in the world of the story, keeping the Wei surname would be “right,” but also he shouldn’t have been raised inside the family with the Jiang children, because *the mother of the family didn’t want him.* He should have been placed with a lower-ranked member of the Jiang clan, possibly one who didn’t have children, and been a friend to the Jiang children. That would have given him everything he needed without creating gossip and humiliating the wife of the clan leader. 

BUT! If Yu Ziyuan had wanted him in the family, the right thing would probably be to re-name him Jiang Wuxian, and adopt him as a full member of the family, but with the understanding that he isn’t in line to inherit the clan leader position--similarly to how an imperial adoption is handled in Nirvana in Fire. 

In contemporary times, keeping his original surname might be important because it’s all he has of his birth parents. But some kids really want to feel connected to their adoptive family through sharing a name. Given Wei Wuxian’s age at the time of adoption, it might be best to keep his original name for a year or two and then give him the option to change it to the adoptive family name; but given his tendency to try to please everybody, he might change his name when he would really rather keep it. So I’d have him talk to his therapist about it for several months before deciding! 

Simple, right? 

#adoption meta #asks answered

[tonyglowheart]

for the most part, I do think the way ppl approach “ownvoices” as a concept where it becomes more about policing demographics - or perceived demographics - is unproductive or even counterproductive. But on the other hand, I do think it’s valuable to consider the writer’s demographic, but more in a sort of like... one facet of sociocultural/historical consideration?

bc there’s that one person who is writing a “xianxia-ish danmei-ish” webnovel that they advertise on twitter, and I come across smatterings of these kinds of things on AO3 (tho I find I have a lower standard for AO3-hosted works than like, someone hosting on their own site & advertising to EN audiences), and at least with the “xianxia-ish danmei-ish” novel, it. well, reads a lot like they’re trying to pastiche translated webnovel, except then a lot of the quirks are more quirks of translation than of a “danmei” genre style, imo. So. It was... interesting. And also they had some part about a character having their hair tied up (either in a bun or a ponytail) and then getting hopelessly knotted when it got wet, which I thought was odd bc it wasn’t my own experience with hair lmao. So that led me to trying to dig further into it bc I was already like, “why are you calling it a xianxia-ish danmei-ish novel” (except that’s not a tell for anything, bc Xiran as a counterexample notably ONLY promotes her work with these kinds of buzzwords. LIke to this day I still have no idea what her debut(?) novel is about bc all she ever says about it is that it’s Pac Rim meets Handmaid’s Tale but Wu Zetian and Chinese myth and poly. Like. that’s not a book blurb, that’s a marketing-a-”foreign” work diversity points buzzword salad.) anyway the webnovelist did say on their twt at some point they were white and I was like, ah, interesting. Also they had some twt about them looking at the readership/site visitor demographic for their site and they were saying how ppl in Asia/SE Asia overwhelmingly are not interested in their work, and I was like. Hm. What a Wild Thought. (lmao)

my point here isn’t that they SHOULDN’T write their xianxia-ish danmei-ish webnovel. But. I don’t know, maybe I hope that they can... be a bit more cognizant of the genre and its history & also the like... pathways of transmission/translation? Because I do think there are ways to write “danmei-like” works originally in English, but at the same time I do think being unaware that what you’re pastiching is translation quirks is... well, unfortunate. You probably are speaking to the same audience still - of English-readers who are reading translated danmei. But I think the implications for it are rather unfortunate, and you lose, like, the beauty of both the Chinese language and English language when you’re trying to recreate something which is essentially an artifact of transmission as opposed to artifacts of either the original language or the target language (now become original language). I do think this arising as a phenomenon IS interesting, though, and speaks to something. And I’m not saying that this hybridity can’t create something interesting, the like bridging of Chinese and English. But that when it comes from someone who doesn’t seem to have the genre-origin contextual understanding and doesn’t seem to understand or have examined WHY exactly the translations of works they read are constructed the way they are (translation quirks and the difficulty in bridging gaps of language/vocabulary availability as well as cultural implications/values/history which inflects and influences language & meaning), to my mind it really just... mostly creates something clumsy. Well-meaning, I’m sure! But... perhaps a bit more sinaboo than actually “culturally appreciative.”

#roz speaks #I do want to emphasize most EN ppl are reading TRANSLATIONS of works bc I think most ppl don't realize that #and end up taking word choices to such a level of gospel #when like a translation is already a mediated/interpreted experience #it would be like if I wrote reviews on The Queen's Gambit solely based on what I've seen of it on tumblr #of course I can come to my own conclusions & interpretations based on other people's interpretations #but there IS a layer missing of interacting directly with the source in its original context #anyway lmao... I'm like. I'm sure most ppl who are writing danmei-ish aren't doing it maliciously #but it does sometimes come off to me like Jamie Oliver putting chili jam in his egg fried rice and deciding he loves it wet #like... I mean that sure is one way to do it #anyway here is the latest on: extended thoughts no one asked for but I am giving to you anyway

[cheri-translates]

Lighthouse (A translated one-shot)

I translated this masterpiece originally written by 白飞飞是我宝贝 on Weibo (with permission)

It’s rare to find a piece of writing that is so immersive and makes the deepest parts of your soul ache. I knew it’d be a tragedy if it isn’t accessible to anyone who doesn’t read Chinese T^T

I’ll be keeping the original writer updated on comments left on this work because she’s the one who deserves all the credit 💕

[1]

Morning sunlight filters in through the curtains and fall on my eyelids, leaving a reddish shadow. I frown slightly, struggling to open my eyes. 

Before me are grey curtains and white walls. The familiar yet foreign decor leave me unable to react. I turn over. 

My head feels like it's filled with water, and the pain sobers me up a little. 

I look at the grey-blue quilt, the grey-blue pillows, and the clean outershirt and T-shirt in the closet...

I shoot up from the bed, ignoring my severe headache. After a quick glance around my surroundings, I finally look down at myself - I’m still in the same outfit as yesterday. Other than it being slightly wrinkled from sleep, not a single button is loose.  

Even so... why am I in Gavin’s house?

I get up with some effort, pressing a hand to my head while the other is against the wall, supporting me as I walk out of the room. On the table sits a glass of soy milk, a glass of fresh milk, steam buns, but no Gavin. 

Sitting at the dining table, I stare dazedly at the warm milk in front of me.

Maybe my body isn’t fully conscious yet, or maybe yesterday’s hangover has left me a little numb. Today, I don’t feel the irritability and gloom that has been torturing me for almost half a month. 

--

Half a month ago, I broke up with Gavin. I initiated it. To my utmost surprise, he didn't refuse. He simply hesitated for a while, and said “okay” in a hoarse voice.

I take a sip of the milk, suddenly recalling the way a coquettish smile had hung on my lips when I was still with him. 

“Gavin, I want to drink the milk you’re holding. Is that okay?”

“It’s not that I dislike soy milk. I like both, so I want to drink it too.”

“But I can’t finish two cups by myself, and I simply enjoy... snatching. Food. From. The. Wolf.”

The tips of Gavin’s ears turn red. With one hand, he grabs me off his body and wraps my entire self into a hug. 

Since then, we would always have a cup of soy milk and a cup of milk for breakfast, with both cups placed in front of me.

He would always wait for me to finish my meal before helping himself to the “leftovers”. I would blush and watch as his thin lips casually stick to the cup where my traces still remain. An inexplicable sweetness would fill me, occupying the entire atrium of my heart. 

The sudden memories are overwhelming. The knuckles gripping the cup have gone white. After taking a deep breath, I feel the first sting in my heart. I resign myself to my fate, forcing my eyes shut, and let the delayed pain and torment swallow me up whole.

[2]

The phone rings, and I pick it up without checking who the caller is.

"This is Gavin."

In my trance, his classic greeting makes me think we are still together.

“Are you awake? If... you are, there’s breakfast on the table.”

"Why am I in your house?" 

My voice sounds strangely hoarse and terrible, like a broken bellow.

"You drank too much yesterday. Minor called me. Your doors and windows were shut, ahem, so...”

"Oh,” my voice is a little dry. “I see, thank you.”

We’re already adults, and even used to be lovers who were attached at the hip. Simply spending a night at his house doesn't warrant me to cause a scene.

What’s more, he is Gavin - the Gavin who has never made things difficult for others.

After finishing breakfast hastily, I tidy the table. I pretend not to see the matching teacups on cabinet. My eyes tremble slightly when they sweep past by the photos we took together. 

Before leaving, I walk to the shelf behind the door to retrieve the key out of sheer habit. When my finger touches the ginkgo leaf pendant, I shirk backwards. 

When I spot the two pairs of cotton slippers - one large and one small - in the shoe cabinet, I feel my heartstring finally snap, and I collapse against the wall. 

The memories in these details are truly terrifying. Donning a harmless appearance, they slowly tear down the defences I had constructed with great difficulty.

These two pairs of cotton slippers were purchased during our early days as a couple. I still remember that it was the first time I saw a sick Gavin. He was leaning against the wall of the hallway - just as I am doing now - his soft bangs covering his tired eyes. 

Trying a new menu in the kitchen, I suddenly feel a searing chest pressed against my back. His chin rests lazily in the crook of my neck, and the warm breath exhaled from his nose reddens my cheeks. 

"Gavin? Why are you back so early today?" I try to ignore my rapid heartbeat, and my speed of cutting the vegetables slows down significantly.

He rubs his head against my shoulder and responds in a muffled voice:

“Dizzy.”

Only then do I notice his abnormally high body temperature. After hastily washing my hands and wiping my apron twice, I place my hand on his forehead.  

He lowers his head obediently and lifts up his bangs, revealing delicate eyebrows. The amber eyes underneath are unnaturally moist, and remind me of a deer in a forest - pure and gentle.

“What happened? Why are you burning up so badly?”

I frown and pull him out of the kitchen, then press him onto the bed without giving him a chance to refuse. 

When I was sick as a child, my dad would always tuck me in tightly. Although it was very hot, I would feel much better after sweating it out. So I also tuck the white quilt around Gavin’s neck. He is very cooperative, but his bright eyes remain wide open and he stares at me without blinking.

"What are you looking at? Close your eyes and go to sleep!" I pretend to be angry. However, upon seeing the abnormal flush on his face and the obvious tiredness between his eyebrows, my heart softens. "Well, you should have a good rest if you’re sick. I'll cook some porridge for you. Take your medicine after eating it, okay?" 

My tone sounds as though I’m pacifying a child. After hearing this, a bright smile appears in his eyes. After a long time, he responds lazily with an “okay”.

But his actions are not as obedient as his words. While I’m busy cooking porridge, he walks out of the bedroom again and hugs me from behind without saying a word, like a huge koala.  

Clearly, a sick Gavin and a normal Gavin are two completely different people. For the first time, I realise that this man, who is unafraid of dying in a shower of bullets, can actually be coquettish to such a degree.

I shake his hand away angrily, but he responds by lifting me up and striding over to the sofa.  

"Gavin! What are you doing!" I instinctively want to pound on his shoulder, but when I think about how he’s still sick, I stop myself. The only thing I can do is raise my voice to sound agitated. 

He places me on the sofa, then leans against me lazily, his strong arms wrapping around my waist, breathing in the scent of my hair.  

"Can you keep me company?" The cold has made his voice deeper, as if a handful of sand has been sprinkled into his voice. "I feel terrible.”

With these few words, the anger that was about to flare vanishes. My heart softens and feels numb, as though there are ants crawling through it. 

“...okay, I'll stay with you." 

He falls asleep on my shoulder in under five minutes. He must have been really tired. I lay him down carefully on the sofa and pull a blanket over him.

At this moment, Gavin, who is more than 1.8 meters tall, is curled up on the sofa looking aggrieved and haggard. The blanket isn’t large enough to cover his feet, and I realise that he has been walking around barefoot.

Although the weather has begun to warm up during this time of year, it’s easy to fall sick between spring and summer. He once dragged me home because I didn’t wear a jacket. But when it comes to himself, he isn’t as meticulous. 

Treading quietly, I leave the house to buy food items from the supermarket downstairs. I also stop by the living area to pick out two pairs of slippers - one big and one small, one blue and one pink, with a wolf and a bunny printed on them. 

They feel soft and warm, and are very comfortable.  

When I reach home, I’m wrapped in a familiar embrace as soon as I open the door. I hear a voice filled with grievances from above my head.

“Where did you go? Why didn't you tell me?"

I break free from his embrace. Lowering my head, I see that he’s still barefoot.

"I went out to get groceries. I’ll make you porridge with preserved eggs and lean meat tonight." 

I kneel down, retrieve the newly bought slippers from the bag. Without looking up, I command:

“Lift your feet.”

Gavin puts them on obediently. I stand up and look at him. “How are they? Do they fit?”

His ears are ridiculously red. He blinks gently. 

“Are these for me?”

"Yes, my Mr Wolf." 

I reply casually, carrying the ingredients into the kitchen.  

Gavin finally settles down peacefully, sitting on the sofa obediently and waiting for my food. Most of the porridge that day ends up in his stomach. After taking the anti-fever medicine, he encases me in his arms and turns the lights off early.

His breathing is especially clear in the dark, and is tainted with scorching heat, ironing the back of my neck in a regular pattern. I can’t bear the numbness and move slightly, but the man behind me holds me even more tightly. I can’t fathom where this sick person derives his strength from. I can't break away at all.  

"Thank you for today," I hear him say suddenly, with a slightly hoarse voice that sounds particularly sultry in the quiet night. "I liked the preserved egg and lean meat porridge you made, I liked the slippers you gave me, and... ahem, anyway, thank you."

I chuckle, rolling over in his arms. I raise my head to meet his crystal-clear eyes in the dim night.

"No need to thank me, Mr Gavin. Because I like you the most."

[3]

When I awake from the memory, I hear the rattle of a key coming from outside the door. Feeling flustered, I have no idea where to put my hands and feet. In the next second, I meet the bright amber eyes from my memory once again.  

Holding a bag of vegetables in his hand, he stands quietly at the door, looking at me silently. When his eyes trail to the high heels on my feet, his brows furrow slightly. 

I bite my lip and break the awkward silence. "Thank you for yesterday. I won’t bother you further. Goodbye.”

I give him a nod. Before I can step outside, he blocks the way. 

Lifting my head, I look at him with a puzzled expression. His neck muscles are tense, and his lips are pressed into a line. The morning light falls on his handsome side profile, softening his sharp features.

"Your complexion looks bad. Rest for a while, and don't force yourself.”

Perhaps I have yet to sober up completely, because I find myself agreeing awkwardly. I change my shoes again and sit down on the sofa. Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore the faint pain from my temples.  

Gavin pours me a cup of hot water. I hold it in my palm and say mindlessly, "I didn't expect that I would be a guest here one day." 

Gavin pauses, and he says nothing.

After retrieving two tomatoes and a piece of tofu from the bag, he walks into the kitchen, which is pretty much a decorative piece to him. 

I arch my eyebrows in surprise. When I hear the stove turning on, I walk over with curiosity.

Gavin has his back towards me, surrounded by sliced ​​tomatoes and tofu, and a bowl of beaten eggs. At a glance, there are no eggshells in it. He flips through a booklet and follows the steps in it meticulously.

I probably guessed what he wanted to do. When he finally stretches out his hand to take the sugar, I stop him in the nick of time. "Gavin, that’s white sugar. The salt is over there. 

His stiffens, the tips of his ears turning redder than the tomatoes in the pot.

Once the soup is prepared, he ladles it into a bowl and brings it to me. 

"Drink a bowl. It’d help you sober up.” His voice is a little soft and obviously lacking in confidence. "I tried it just now... ahem, it's not bad...” 

I smile and take the egg drop soup from his hand. Stirring the soup with a spoon causes bright red tomatoes to bob around. The aroma of green onions instantly dispels the smell of alcohol stuffing my nose.

I take a sip. It really doesn’t taste bad. 

But I can’t understand why such a delicious soup makes me feel as though I’m drinking something bitter.

I stand at the door of the kitchen, taking slow sips. When I can almost see the bottom of the bowl, I force myself to laugh.

"Is this the former police officer who only knew takeaway food and instant noodles? This cooking is a great leap forward." 

The brightness in his eyes dims for a moment, and he responds with a hint of self-mockery. "I’m used to your cooking, so I can no longer eat takeaway food or instant noodles. The only thing I can do now is learn to make it myself.”

I’m left stunned, not expecting that he would say this. He turns back to the kitchen to wash the pots and bowls. I watch his tall figure in a daze, and am suddenly swept up into a whirlpool of memories. 

While heading to the supermarket, I turn my head to Gavin and ask him a question.

“Gavin, what do you like to eat?”

He responds with a faint smile. “Anything. As long as you make it, I will love it.”

I know Gavin always puts me first, and that I would get nowhere if I continued down this line of questioning. I simply change my approach.

“What do you usually eat then?”

After thinking about it carefully, he says, “STF doesn’t have a canteen. I usually eat at a restaurant outside, or have instant noodles. I'm not a picky eater, so it’s fine as long as I can fill my stomach.”

I know that he works hard, but I’m still a little angry at his living habits.

“Without me around, would you be eating instant noodles your entire life?”

When he sees me suddenly frowning, his tone gets slightly flustered.

“I...”

“Hmph, in order to punish you, I’ve decided that..." I reach out angrily and pick out a Chinese cabbage from the freezer. "You have to clear the entire plate tonight, and my boxed lunches in future! Eat well, sleep well, and take care of yourself. Do you understand!”

There is a smile in his amber eyes, and the corners of his mouth rise a little. In the end, he rubs my hair with some helplessness, and obediently says, "okay.” 

Bang.

The sound of the cabinet door closing shut pulls me back to reality. When I meet his eyes, I hurriedly conceal my dazed expression.

“Thank you. I just remembered that I still have things to do at the company, so I’ll make a move.”

I walk towards the entrance, slightly embarrassed. 

When I hear him call my name, I stop.

"Can we talk?”

I stand frozen in place, all the blood draining away the warmth from my heart. It isn’t until I’m surrounded by a broad embrace that I can eventually hear my heart beating again.

Gavin always liked hugging me from behind the most, hanging his head by the side of my ears, his soft sideburns on my face. I would hear his unhurried, gentle breathing.

Just like right now. My back leans against his hard chest, his body temperature wrapping me in a thin cloak. The arms on my waist are strong, and there’s a new scar on it.

The familiar heartache sweeps across me again, unbridled. Before I can react, I hear a breath near my ears.

"If Minor didn’t call me, would I have had no chance to see you again?"

[4] 

I ruminated over why Gavin and I broke up. It always came back to a cliche term - unsuitable.

I’m the boss of a small company, living a standard 9 to 5 life. Although I sometimes work overtime, my life has a fairly regular pattern.

Gavin is a special officer who has no fixed working hours. He runs off whenever there’s danger, and we often lose contact. The longest time we’ve been apart was for nearly a month, and the only communication we had spanned only ten minutes. Most of the time, I was asking, “Is there a signal? Can you hear me?”

But I never felt that our professional life was an obstacle in our love. On the contrary, it was precisely because of our intersecting schedules that I cherished the time with him even more. 

It's just...

When I learned that he had a vacation on the 520 during our early days together as a couple, I excitedly made a travel plan for an overnight stay at the beach.

There was a filming site of a movie that I particularly liked. I lay in his arms enthusiastically and described the reeds, the lighthouse, and the ocean where the first light of day could be seen. Gavin had smiled and listened to me, then dropped a kiss on my forehead.  

But when the time came, I went there alone. 

He had received an urgent task suddenly. After hesitating for a while, he wanted to call and decline. However, I held his phone and shook my head at him. "It's okay, go.”

Then, it was the first Qixi Festival we celebrated together. Gavin had specially adjusted his schedule to keep me company. That day, we walked through the ancient streets lined with lanterns while holding hands. We released a small paper boat by the river together. We also watched a sweet and romantic movie. He watched me smile, our fingers clasped together, warm and powerful.

But when I got up in the morning the very next day, I saw Gavin seated on the sofa with his head down. I whispered his name, and he raised his head to look at me. His eyes were moist and red, and his usually clear voice was hoarse. 

"The teammate who swapped shifts with me yesterday met with an accident during the mission... if it weren’t for me, he would have been fine now...”

I held his hand distressedly and comforted him. It wasn’t his fault. But when I saw the pain in his eyes, I knew that he would shoulder everything himself, and that he would carry on with this self-blame and guilt. 

After that, Gavin became more frequently tasked with missions, and became more frequently injured. In addition to distress, I also felt helpless.  

Then came the Spring Festival. He had accompanied me to my aunt’s house. He wasn’t very good with talking, and his body had unconcealed wounds. My aunt’s expression gradually morphed from enthusiasm to politeness. 

My aunt dragged me to the kitchen and asked me solemnly, in a low voice.

"What does he do? Special police? You know this kind of work is dangerous! Should you marry him in the future, what if... and I’m saying ‘what if’... what if something goes wrong? What would you do?”

I tightened my cuffs, took a deep breath, and said, "Aunt, no matter how dangerous his work is, or how dissatisfied you are with him, he is the person I’ve decided on, and I love him very much.”

My aunt frowned and looked at me. She sighed slowly. "Silly child, you’ll understand later on that the most important thing in marriage is not love, but suitability. Love is just one condiment in life, and life is a big dish. It needs the right dishes to match, supplemented by condiments, in order to have an excellent and delicious presentation."

“I’m not trying to nag at you. I just want you to think this through carefully. I know that Gavin is a good boy, and I can see how much he cares for you. But I can also see that you don’t look as happy as before. I just hope you young ones can live happily.”

After returning home that day, my aunt’s words continued echoing in my ears. I didn’t want to accept my somewhat shaky reality.

In countless nights without Gavin, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling in a daze. What flashed before my eyes were Gavin’s scars. He never took the initiative to tell me about his injuries, and never mentioned the danger of his missions. 

His solemn and stern eyes told me that every “I’m fine” from his lips had no credibility.

With time after time of heartaches and disappointments, I seemed to suddenly understand what my aunt said.

When he flips through the medicine cabinet in the living room again in the middle of the night, I walk out of the bedroom and turn the lights on with a “click”. 

At first, he’s surprised. Then, he starts panicking as he tries to hide the scar on his left shoulder. Without a word, I take out the hard iodine and gauze from the medicine box, carefully remove the his bloodstained clothes, and gently clean up the wound little by little. 

This time, the wound isn’t deep, but there is a lot of bleeding. I squat down in front of him, the hand holding the tweezers trembling slightly. In contrast, my words are calm. 

"Gavin. Do you know that if I were your teammate, I definitely wouldn't want to see you in this sorry state? It’s only when you take care of yourself that you can protect even more people.”

I throw the napkin away and wrap the gauze around his arm. His muscles are smooth and tight. Even though I’ve seen it so many times, it still gives me heart palpitations. 

"In the future, you have to protect yourself well, understand? Don't let the people who love you feel scared all day. This kind of torture is even more unbearable than physical injuries.”

I tie a neat knot, then sit beside him, hugging him gently. His amber eyes flicker, and within them are waves of pain and struggle.

"Gavin.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and memorising the warmth of his body.

"Let’s break up.”

[5]

I break free from Gavin’s embrace and leave his house in a hurry after leaving him with a sentence:

“Don't follow me.”

I run in a hurry, because I know that if I hesitate for a second longer, I will fall into his arms completely and become unable to extricate myself.

It's ridiculous.

Even though I keep reminding myself that we have already broken up, I still love his warmth.

The drinks were really worthless. If it weren't for this hangover, I wouldn’t have been so embarrassed, and I wouldn’t have been so easily defeated by mere memories and a hug.

I take a taxi and return home.

The moment I close the door, I finally remove all my forbearances. I throw myself onto the sofa and raise an arm to cover my eyes. Tears trickle down the corners of my eyes, silent and endless. 

[6] 

I must have been crazy to agree to Minor’s invitation to attend the high school reunion. When I see the tall figure walking into the banquet hall, my instinctive reaction is to flee. 

But standing next to me is an old friend. He’s chatting about the past enthusiastically, and I have no choice but to remain still and nod along in agreement.

Gavin’s appearance is akin to throwing a boulder on calm water, and the ripples caused by the waves spread through the entire banquet hall, including my heart.

Although he should have already spotted me, he doesn't talk to me. Instead, he sits two spaces away. His expression is cold and fierce, as though he has come to participate in a serious operation.

No one dared to approach him in high school, and this has remained true even now. To outsiders, he is a lone wolf - indifferent and arrogant, causing everyone to retreat from him. 

I used to see him in the same light, but everything that occurred later overthrew these myopic impressions. I discovered the softness and delicateness hiding under his hard shell.

“Hey, what's the matter with you? Why are you distracted all the time?" 

My old friend waves his hand in front of me, and I apologise with a bit of embarrassment.

After saying a few more words, he suddenly asks, "Do you have a boyfriend now?" 

Hearing this, I choke on my red wine. In the corner, Gavin seems to be frowning at me, his amber eyes bright and scorching, making me subconsciously want to escape.

I avert my eyes and shake my head. "No." 

He becomes a little more interested then, changing the topic from high school to the present.

"Let me tell you - I’m working at LFG now and have bought a car and paid the down payment for a house. Also, my parents don’t live with me, so if you’re...”

"Are you done?” A cold voice interrupts him. My heart trembles and I raise my head, only to see Gavin's cold glare. 

At this moment, nearly half of the eyes in the hall are focused on our conversation. Looking like he doesn’t care about anything, Gavin grabs my arm and pulls me out of the room. I can’t escape from his grasp, and feel frustrated by his inexplicable behaviour. 

He takes me to a small balcony outside the hall, then imprisons me between the wall and his chest. He looks down at me, brows furrowed deeply. There’s an unconcealed anger in his eyes. 

"What are you doing?” I question, unwilling to look at him directly.

The reply I get is a kiss that plunders everything.

His lips press against mine roughly, and his unique scent overwhelms me. There is a collision and friction between our lips and teeth, and there is pain. 

It’s an uncontrolled plunder and invasion. 

He doesn’t let me go until my last breath is violently swept away. I pant heavily, but he embraces me in the next second. 

This time, his embrace is gentle. 

It’s careful, as if he’s protecting a fragile glass flower. His heavy breath brushes my neck, mingling with his low and trembling voice.

"I'm sorry."

[7] 

I don’t deny that I lived a terrible life in the half month after separating from him.

I worked overtime every day, letting work fill all the gaps in my life. I didn’t give myself a chance to relax at all, because it only takes a second for pain and regret to gnaw away at me. 

Minor has been secretly reporting my life to Gavin. I knew that. But I never thought of stopping him, and a ridiculous expectation even started brimming in my heart. 

I wondered if there would be a night, when the lights of the city begin to fade, when he would appear in front of me as he used to. He would wrinkle his beautiful eyebrows and gently bring me into his arms. With a slight touch of reproach, he would ask resignedly, “Why are you working overtime again?”

I also wondered if he would push the office door open anxiously when I’m stricken with another stomach ailment, picking me up sideways without a word. The expression on his face back then was full of anger, but the stream of light in his eyes magnified his distress and tenderness infinitely.

I also wondered, when I have finished my work for the day and am leaning against the wall of the elevator and staring at the changing floors, whether I’d see him as soon as I open the door.

If he did show up, I would put everything down and leap into his arms, and tell him over and over again that I love him. 

But in the half month since our break up, he never appeared once. 

This city is so large that even if two people were once intimate, they may miss each other for a lifetime if they don’t stay in touch. 

So I started to waver again. Why did I live even more unhappily after listening to what my aunt said? 

Why is it that once the seasoning of love is no longer part of this big dish of life, the entire thing tastes like wax?

I don't understand - would I be happier finding someone I’m suitable with but do not love, or consume each other’s love and embrace the friction?

Deep down, I know that if I could abandon everything and make a choice, I would choose the latter without hesitation.  

At least, my life as of now tells me very clearly that the decision I made was wrong.

And this mistake has tortured the both of us beyond recognition.  

[8]

My back is extremely tense and feels like a fully stretched bow. 

The hands around my waist move slightly, and Gavin’s voice falls on my ears, drawing intense pain from my heart. 

With every breath, I can only smell the scent of his body and the sweet aroma of red wine from just now. 

Over his shoulders, I see the bright, brilliant, erosive, and prosperous city. Trapped inside are people all sentenced to life.  

I know that I’m one of them.

Without warning, tears trickle from the corners of my eyes, leaving streaks of cold water on my face.

In my increasingly fuzzy and hot vision, I see Gavin’s somewhat flustered expression. He gently wipes away my tears with his rough finger pads. 

Those eyes, full of anxiety, become the only lighthouse within reach.  

It seems that as long as I look at him, I will never lose my way.  

After a few small sobs, I rush into his arms without a care. I pull at the corners of his clothes and cry until his white T-shirt becomes damp.

He comforts me clumsily, his hands caressing my hair in exchange for the string of muffled "sorry"s flowing from my mouth.

[9] 

I called my aunt.

"Aunt, is suitability really that important in life?" 

"Silly child, suitability is very important. But more importantly, are you happy?"  

“What if I’m with someone who I’m not suitable with, but I feel happy?”

"Then he might be the most suitable person for you.”

[10] 

I stand at the door of the STF office, holding a boxed lunch and looking outside. 

An officer who recognises me greets me with a smile. "Is sister-in-law giving Gavin food again? Just go in and wait. The team is already on their way back. 

I smile and nod. “It doesn't matter. Waiting over here is the same thing.”

Another colleague pats him on the shoulder, as if laughing at his stupidity. "What would you know, you single loner? Sister-in-law wants to see Gavin sooner!" 

I blush, and suddenly see a familiar profile coming in through the door. 

The faint light of dusk outlines his wide shoulders and narrow waist, depicting his side profile clearly. Seeing me, the solemnity and coldness on his face melts into a pool of spring water.

"What are you doing here? Didn't I say you should wait for me at home?" 

He walks up to me and takes what’s in my hand, his tone brisk and clear. 

I crinkle my eyes and smile, saying, "I’m off work early today, and came over since I have nothing to do.” 

We walk all the way to his office. Opening the boxed lunch, he sees that it contains his favourite dishes. 

Gavin takes a whiff in a slightly exaggerated manner, then smiles. "Mm, smells good.”

I quickly hand him the chopsticks. He picks up a piece of beef and brings it into his mouth. After swallowing it, he lowers his eyes and smiles. "I get to eat the food you cook after my mission. I suddenly don't feel tired at all.”

I feel a twinge in my heart. I huff nonchalantly and respond. "If you like it, I’ll prepare and bring you boxed lunches in the future.” 

"No need." He reaches out and tousles my hair. "Be good and wait for me at home. Just knowing that you’re at home makes me feel very contented.”

After work, we walk home together hand in hand. The setting sun filters through the uneven skyline of the city, elongating our shadows.

The summer evening breeze carries the scent of camphor trees across my face, and the temperature of the day finally reveals a tired and lazy side. Dim light reaches the world through the clouds drifting in the sky, bringing a certain tenderness to this steely city.

"Gavin?" I turn my head to look at the man wearing a smile on his mouth, and happen to meet his clear eyes. 

"What's the matter?"

"Your birthday is coming soon. Are there any gifts you want?”

"Anyth-"

“You’re not allowed to say ‘anything’!" I interrupt him with a glare, giving his palm a forceful squeeze.

He smiles compromisingly, and his eyes seem to be filled with scattered gold. 

"Then teach me how to cook a meal. I hope one day in the future, you can return home from work and eat a meal I’ve prepared.”

I’m momentarily startled, and suddenly remember what my aunt said - 

"Then he might be the most suitable person for you.”

I have thought about this question of suitability many, many times. Just like the “unity of opposites” in philosophy, I simply can’t make sense of it. But no one has ever told me that this question doesn’t require thinking. The answer has always been in my heart, and the clues to finding the answer have been scattered throughout my life.

Even the most trivial things in life carries memories belonging only to us. And these small and plain memories will gather into a surging tide when you least expect it, washing away the dust covering the answer in one’s heart. 

Perhaps there has never been such a thing as “unsuitable” to begin with. This so-called “unsuitable” is just used by people looking for an excuse to part ways.

A breeze blows past, and ripples appear on the lake in my heart. When I look at him again, I suddenly feel light and happy both physically and mentally, and that nothing could come between the both of us.

With a big smile, I say, "Okay! I’ll leave the birthday party to you then, Mr Gavin.”

He chuckles softly, his bangs a little messy from the evening breeze. "I will learn properly, and won’t disappoint you.”  

The sunset finally sinks behind the tall buildings. Neon lights and vehicle headlights begin to flicker, and the dim yellow streetlights on the side of the road replace the sunset, continuing to illuminate the long road.

I know that he will hold my hand as we walk, step by step, slowly and steadily, along this path home. 

#mlqc #mlqc gavin

[pjo-whore]

Percy In Tartarus

Chapter 1: The Fall, And Gone

ao3 link. if anyone wants to be tagged for future updates please comment!

Annabeth had seen some strange things before, having been privy to the mythological world since she was only seven years old.

Several things she could name off the top of her head was her first time at Camp Half-Blood when she witnessed her best friend die in cold blood, then proceed to be turned into a pine tree; witnessing the Stoll brothers pull of pranks that increasingly defied the laws of physics; and when she had even seen her boyfriend turned into a guinea pig by a vengeful sorceress.

And that wasn’t even half of the craziest stuff she had to deal with on the daily.

But if there was one thing she had never witnessed before, it was cars raining from the sky. If she was being honest, it wasn’t as cool as it sounded.

Like, three out of ten.

Would not recommend.

As the roof of the cavern collapsed, beams of sunlight came through from above, blinding Annabeth. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the Argo II.

It had used its ballistae to blast a hole straight through the ground.

Giants chunks of asphalt tumbled down, along with six or seven Italian cars. One would have crushed the Athena Parthenos, but luckily the statue’s glowing aura acted as a force field, and the car bounced off.

Unfortunately, that car fell toward Annabeth.

Annabeth launched herself to the side to avoid it and accidentally rolled her bad ankle. Pain washed through her, making her lightheaded. She was only just able to flip onto her back in time to see a bright red Fiat 500 slam straight into Arachne’s silk trap, punching through the cavern floor and disappearing with the Chinese spider-cuffs.

As Arachne fell, she screamed like a freight train on collision course.

More chunks of debris slammed through the floor, riddling it with holes.

The Athena Parthenos remained undamaged, thankfully, but the marble under its pedestal was a starburst of fractures.

When everything settled and debris stopped falling, Annabeth was finally able to calm down and take stock. She was covered with cobwebs. She trailed the strands of leftover spider silk from her arms and legs like the strings of a marionette, but somehow none of the debris had hit her.

Annabeth wanted to believe that it had been the statue of her mother that had protected her, but bitterly, she suspected it may have been nothing but luck.

Around her, the army of spiders had disappeared.

Either they had fled back into the shadows, or they had fallen into the chasm along with Arachne, and there was no lost love from Annabeth for either option.

As natural light flooded the cavern, Arachne’s silk tapestries along the wall crumbled to dust. Annabeth could hardly bear to watch it, especially when the tapestry depicting Percy and her kissing underwater turned to nothing.

But none of it mattered the moment Annabeth heard her boyfriend calling from above.

“Annabeth!”

“Here!” She sobbed. It hurt to yell. “Over here!”

Her terror left her in one massive wave of relief. As the Argo II descended, she could see Percy leaning over the railing, waving to her. Black hair whipping in the wind, smile crooked, he appeared like a god sent from Elysium. His smile was better than any tapestry Annabeth had ever seen.

The room kept shaking, and with no lack of difficulty, Annabeth pulled herself to her feet. Her backpack was missing, along with Daedalus’ laptop.

Her celestial bronze knife, which she’d had since she was seven, was also gone.

Annabeth wanted to cry. It felt like she had lost a part of herself.

Above her, the Argo II came to a stop about forty feet from the floor. A rope ladder was lowered, but Annabeth ignored it as she stood in a daze, head still heavy.

Percy appeared at her side, lacing his fingers with hers.

He gently turned Annabeth away from the pit and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Annabeth buried her face in his chest and finally broke down in tears.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re together.”

Percy didn’t say “you’re okay” or “we’re alive.” After all the two had been through, he knew the most important thing was that they were together. Annabeth felt fit to bursting for the love she held for him, and she hugged him tighter.

Around them their friends gathered. Nico was there, but Annabeth’s head felt so fuzzy that it didn’t even surprise her. It only seemed right for him to be there.

“Your leg!” Piper exclaimed. She kneeled next to Annabeth and examined the Bubble Wrap cast, fretting over her friend’s injury. “Oh, Annabeth, what happened?”

Annabeth wanted to explain, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She felt so light-headed, and her tongue felt swollen. Her throat was parched. Percy seemed to know what she needed and called for a water bottle, which Leo grabbed from his utility bet and quickly handed over to her.

As she started, it became easier.

Percy didn’t let go of her hand either, which helped to motivate her.

When she finished, everyone was staring at her in disbelief.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason said. “You did all that alone – and with a broken ankle!”

“Well, some of it with a broken ankle,” Annabeth said weakly.

Percy broke out in a grin. “But you made Arachne weave her own trap? I knew you were good, but by the gods – generations of Athena kids tried and failed, but you did it! You found the Athena Parthenos!”

Attention switched to the statue.

“So … what do we do with her?” Frank asked. “She’s huge.”

“We have to take her with us to Greece,” Annabeth said. “She’s powerful. Something about her will help us stop the giants’ rise.”

“The giants’ bane stands gold and pale, won with pain from a woven jail,” Hazel said, quoting the prophecy. Her expression gained a hint of admiration. “It was Arachne’s jail. You tricked her into weaving it.”

With a lot of pain, Annabeth thought humorlessly.

Leo raised his hands in a mock framing, trying to measure the Athena Parthenos. “Well, it might take some rearranging, but I think we can fit her through the bay doors in the stables. If she sticks out at the end, I might have to wrap a flag around her feet … or something.”

Annabeth shuddered at the image. She imagined the Athena Parthenos jutting out from the trireme with a sign across its pedestal that read “WIDE LOAD.”

Then she remembered the other lines the prophecy: “the twins snuff out the angel’s breath, who holds the key to endless death.”

“What … what about you guys?” Annabeth said. “What happened with the giants?”

Percy told her about rescuing Nico and the surprise appearance of Bacchus, along with the fight with the twin giants in the Colosseum.

Nico didn’t say much. He didn’t say anything at all. The poor guy looked like he had been wandering through a frozen wasteland for a week. Percy shared what Nico had learned about the Doors of Death, and that to properly close them, they had to be shut on both sides.

Overworld and Underworld.

Even with the sunlight from above, Percy’s news made the cavern seem dark again.

“So, the mortal side is in Epirus.” The gears in Annabeth’s head begun to turn. “I mean … at least that’s somewhere we can reach.”

Nico grimaced. “But it’s the other side that’s the problem – Tartarus.”

The word seemed to echo eerily through the chamber.

The pit behind the group of demigods exhaled a cold blast of air, causing Annabeth to shiver. The shadows got darker, the pit echoed, and an icy feeling crept up Annabeth’s spine. Annabeth knew with certainty that the chasm went straight to the Underworld.

Percy must have felt it too because he guided Annabeth away from the edge.

Slowly and carefully, the group migrated back to the Argo II.

Annabeth’s arms and legs trailed spider silk like a bridal train, and she wished that she had something to cut the silk off. She almost asked Percy to do the honours, but he leaned in and began talking. He frowned. “You know, Bacchus mentioned something about my voyage being harder than I expected. Not sure why he –”

Suddenly, the chamber groaned, making the Athena Parthenos tilt violently to the side. Its head caught on one of Arachne’s support cables, but the marble foundation beneath the pedestal was crumbling quickly.

For a horrible moment, Annabeth thought the statue was going to fall.

Her stomach dropped.

“Secure it!” She cried out.

Thankfully, her friends understood what she meant almost immediately.

“Zhang!” Leo called, already running. “Get me to the helm, quick! The coach is up there alone!”

Frank shifted into a giant eagle, pausing only for a moment to allow Leo to jump onto his back, and the two of them soared toward the Argo II.

“Don’t worry about running, I’ll be back for you guys in just a second. Just don’t reinjure Annabeth’s ankle,” Jason said to Percy and Annabeth. Then he turned and wrapped his arms around Piper, and he summoned the winds and shot into the air.

“There’s no time, this floor won’t last!” Hazel warned, but Jason didn’t hear her. She turned to the others. “The rest of us need to get to the ladder as quick as possible!”

The group started making their way to the Argo II less carefully, speed the only thing on their minds.

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from the holes in the floor, causing the demigods to inhale the dust and choke. The spider’s silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. The floor lurched and crumbled.

When they reached the ship, Annabeth watched anxiously as Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder, which was swaying wildly with the shaking of the cavern. Hazel gestured for her brother to follow. Nico was in no condition to pull himself up, still sickly pale and thin and limping. Hazel had to grab him from beneath the armpits to hoist him up.

Percy held onto Annabeth tighter, shifting on his feet worriedly.

“It’ll be fine,” he muttered. “It has to be fine – we’re so close.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

Above, grappling lines shot from the Argo II and wrapped around the Athena Parthenos. One lassoed Athena’s neck like a noose. Leo was shouting orders from the helm as Jason and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had managed to climb a quarter the way up when a sudden sharp pain shot up Annabeth’s bad leg, causing her to cry out and stumble.

“What is it?” Percy asked.

Annabeth didn’t have an answer.

Everything was in a haze and her head felt heavy. Confused, she staggered toward the ladder again, only to find that she could not. Instead, she was moving backward. And then her legs were swept out from beneath her in one pull, and she fell on her hands and knees. There was a hollow sound as her head bounced off the ground, and Annabeth saw stars.

“Her ankle!” Hazel screamed from the ladder. “Guys, quickly! Cut it! Cut it!”

Annabeth didn’t understand. Cut her ankle?

Apparently, Percy didn’t understand what Hazel meant, either. He grabbed Annabeth’s hands and tried to pull her back to her feet, but it caused more pain and he stopped when Annabeth began to cry. Then, suddenly, an invisible force yanked Annabeth backward and dragged her toward the pit with the force of Heracles.

Percy yelled out in fear. He lunged for Annabeth, grabbing her arms, digging his heels into the ground. Unfortunately, the momentum still carried him along with her.

“Help them!” Hazel yelled.

Nico jumped down from the ladder, headless of his injured state, and began hobbling in the direction of the pit as Hazel tried to disentangle her cavalry sword from the rope. The others were still focused on the Athena Parthenos and Hazel’s cry was lost in the general chaos.

Annabeth’s stomach dropped when she was yanked back another few feet.

She was terrified.

Now that Annabeth realized what was happening, it was too late. She was tangled in Arachne’s spider silk. She had assumed it was all loose lines, but with the entire floor covered in cobwebs, she hadn’t noticed that one of the strands was wrapped around her foot – and the other end went straight into the pit. It was attached to something heavy down in the darkness. Something was pulling her in.

Percy continued to pull uselessly on her, until something popped in her right shoulder, making her scream in pain. Startled, Percy slipped and fell past Annabeth. A large chunk of marble was upended behind them, granting them momentary pause from falling.

Percy finally seemed to get his wits about him and pulled out Riptide.

Annabeth couldn’t see it from where she was scrabbling for purchase against the marble floor, but she heard the blade hiss as it cut through the air.

With a snap, a wave of relief crashed through Annabeth once the pressure was released on her ankle. She tried pulling herself up, but the ground trembled as the marble cracked further, and the chunk behind them dropped into the looming chasm. Percy, who was behind her, tumbled down the sudden incline and, in a panic, reached out for something to grab – which happened to be Annabeth’s good ankle.

Together, they slipped further from the pull of Percy’s weight.

Terrified, Annabeth screamed and kicked him away. “Let go of me!”

“Fuck!”

Percy disappeared over the edge.

She scrambled backward as Nico hobbled past her and leaned over the edge, eyes wet.

“Annabeth help!” Percy cried. Annabeth crawled back in fear as the floor cracked further. Nico either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Percy was partway into the pit and dangling over the void. He had managed to catch a ledge almost fifteen feet below, but that wasn’t going to help him. He was holding on with one hand, struggling to get a drip with his other, which was bleeding profusely from a large gash across his palm. Several feet away from the hole sat Riptide, blood staining its blade.

No escape.

Annabeth jerked back.

She could have sworn a voice echoed from the pit, mocking her. Bile rose in her throat.

I go to Tartarus, and your loved one will come, too.

The pit shook violently, as if it were eagerly anticipating its next meal – its next victim.

Nico leaned over the edge of the chasm, hopelessly thrusting out his hand to help. But he was too far away. Nico knew it, Annabeth knew it – and Percy knew it, too.

“Percy,” Nico said, “grab my hand!”

Percy’s face was almost white with effort.

Hazel was still yelling for help from the others.

Even if they did hear her over the chaos, they would never make it in time.

Annabeth felt like her whole world was crashing down around her. She couldn’t comprehend that Percy was going to die. Even from a few feet away, she could feel the pull of the pit. She could see the darkness slowly rising, trying to claim Percy.

Percy gasped when the ledge shuddered and shifted. He looked up at Nico fifteen feet above, hand still extended. Percy’s face twisted as something final crossed his expression.

“The other side, Nico.”

Annabeth didn’t understand right away, but Nico did. He shook his head violently. “No, Percy –”

“The other side! I’ll see you there. Understand?”

Nico’s expression turned pained. “But –”

“Lead them there!” Percy said. “Promise me! Please!”

It suddenly struck Annabeth that Percy couldn’t see her. He had his eyes locked on Nico. Beside her, Nico looked lost. He stuttered. “I – I will.”

Below Percy, somewhere from the endless void, a voice laughed in the darkness.

Ice crawled up Annabeth’s spine.

A sacrifice. Such a beautiful sacrifice to wake the goddess.

It finally clicked in Annabeth’s mind.

A one-way trip.

A very hard fall.

And Percy looked scared.

Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to watch anymore.

She looked away, and Percy was gone.

*

#pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #house of hades #tartarus #percy in tartarus #percy alone in tartarus #house of hades rewrite #most of this was lifted from the og book #angst #heroes of olympus

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 9

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 9 - Flee

The flame on the table moved.

"It's here," A-Yan said, and then motioned Lin Yan to pay attention to what was behind him. Lin Yan turned around and saw that there was nothing unusual. Then he saw it.

There are obviously only three of them in the room, but there were four shadows on the wall.

Different from the familiar silence, the fourth shadow on the wall was constantly moving this time, like it was pacing around the house. At first, it moved extremely slowly, and then it got faster and faster. For a while, it hurriedly walked straight in one direction, then returned, and finally started to circle around them.

"He's looking for you," A-Yan said softly.

There was also a strange noise outside the door, like a stone falling into the water or a tree branch breaking. Soon, the courtyard was overwhelmed by the wind, and the door and windows were all squeaking. Then there was knocking on the door, like countless people waiting to come in. Not only at the door, but there were also eager knocks from the windows on all sides. Lin Yan was terrified and turned his head to see out of the window. He was met with an old face and saw an old man standing slanting by the window, wearing a full Manchu costume, and carrying a faint green lantern in his hand.

The figures in the yard gradually increased.

"Don't-, don't be afraid." A-Yan grabbed Lin Yan's hand and whispered softly: "They usually come in at this time to eat the steamed buns in the temple. They are all poor people, and there's no one to support them after they die."

Lin Yan felt that even if 2012 was really the end of the world, he would not be surprised. (T/N: This novel was written in 2012 just so this comment doesn't seem out of nowhere)

A person appeared silently in the net made by the red ropes in the room.

In the shadowy candlelight, Lin Yan saw the man; he had dark hair that parted at his forehead and hung in disarray, covering most of his face. He was very tall, with wide sleeves hanging straight and loosely on his body, splattering with old brown bloodstains. Lin Yan bit his lower lip and tried his best not to start hyperventilating. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. Almost at the same time, the temple master stood up abruptly, took out a yellow paper from the table and inserted it in the incense burner. He spread out the yellow paper and made a scratch on his finger. Using his now bloodied finger, he quickly sketched on the paper.

The "person" in the shadow of the lamp suddenly walked back and forth in the house like he had been offended. He hit the red rope and was forced to return, but he was reluctant, and he staggered back. This weird scene made Lin Yan break out in a cold sweat, and a light sigh of surprise overflowed from his throat uncontrollably, "Heh—"

The ghost suddenly raised his head, his messy hair blocking Lin Yan's ruthless eyes. His black eyes were filled with strong killing intent, and they suddenly made eye contact! Almost without warning, his stiff body turned to Lin Yan and rushed towards him in a few strides. Lin Yan trembled all over his body and tried to hold his breath. The ghost stopped less than half a meter away from him and looked around harshly as if it couldn't see the target anymore.

Just when Lin Yan was running out of breath, the ghost finally gave up, turned around and rushed over.

The temple master began to recite a strange mantra, and A-Yan joined in. It was obvious that only two people were speaking, but there were echoes from all corners of the room. The red ropes shook together, and the ghost's steps became flustered. The barefooted figure smashed around like a fly in the room, swaying and almost falling to the ground. As the chanting of the mantra became louder and louder, the ghost staggered to the ground like he enduring great pain. He crawled around and tried to stand up, scanning the room frantically and impatiently but couldn't find his target.

The temple master pulled Lin Yan’s arm, motioned him to stay silent with his glare, and then made a deep cut in his forearm with a knife. The moment the blood poured out, Lin Yan seemed to hear the ghost let out a heavy gasp. Using all fours together, he crawled over to Lin Yan from the other end of the room. Every time he moved his body, it was as slow as torture, but it didn't stop. A-Yan picked up the cypress block with the paper figure on the table, rubbed Lin Yan's blood on the red paper. He grabbed the wound and covered the forearm, and threw the double cypress toward the middle of the house.

The ghost let out a low groan, as if he had exhausted all his energy and rushed towards the cypress on the ground. His hands kept tearing at the paper man above. The next scene made Lin Yan completely stunned. The ghost knelt on the ground, holding the block, and he leaned down and began to kiss it. He rubbed his lips against the blood-stained red paper, like holding a lost treasure.

The expression of the temple master turned vicious in an instant. He took up the short knife on the table, bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed the blood mist on the blade. The tip of the blade was facing the direction of the ghost, and the yellow paper on the table lit on fire, crackling and burning into a ball of fire. In the raging fire, the whole body of the ghost twitched violently, and his throat kept making vague groans. However, he did not resist at all and even refused to move his body. He hugged the cypress tightly in his arms, snuggling it up to his cheek in desperation and nostalgia. . .

The inexplicable shock made Lin Yan take a step back. He had never seen such a look in his life; desperate, crazy, resentful, cruel and unwilling, staring straight at the wood in his arms, touching the doll covered in Lin Yan's blood.

A big mouthful of blood poured out from the ghost's mouth and ran down the corners of his lips. The drops stained his jade-coloured shirt. His hair scattered all over the place, and also stained with maroon blood. It was a tragic scene. Lin Yan shook his head. This was simply not right. There must be some kind of mistake. How could someone who could stare at him with this kind of eyes hurt him. . .

"Buzzzzzzz. . ."

Lin Yan's phone was on vibration mode. The white light off the screen looked out of place in the flame light, and a text message popped up: "Gu's autopsy report was changed. I hacked into the hospital's archive system. The time of death on the autopsy report was different than the time the police gave us. It was three hours earlier."

Then comes the second: "I suspect that someone is interfering in this matter. Lin Yan, be careful."

Lin Yan thoughtfully recalled that the death certificate issued by the police station stated that the old woman died at 1 o'clock in the morning, so her actual time of death was instead 10 o'clock the night before. At that time, he was fighting with the ghost in front of him in the elevator. He looked at the time before going upstairs, there was no mistake about that.

He didn't even think about Yin Zhou's second text message. It was like water had been thrown onto him. Lin Yan clenched his fist, and was shocked by the disturbing scene before him. He was speechless, swallowing hard. What was he doing? He stubbornly thinks that he could never kill a living person, but does that mean he should be so willing to scatter an undeserving ghost's soul?!

Like using cubs as bait to catch she-wolves, the methods of human beings were more despicable than ghosts.

"Stop!" Lin Yan shouted at the temple master.

The temple owner was now like the enemy: "Shut up! We'll deal with that when we're finished!"

A-Yan also panicked. "Brother Lin Yan, don't say anything, it's too late to stop now!"

The eyes of the temple master were revealed in an instant, and the short knife sprayed with blood was raised high, facing the ground. The whole house seemed to be shaken by an invisible giant hand, creaking noises came from the window frames, eaves, and walls. The wandering souls that had gathered in the courtyard also seemed to be irritated; whimpering, screaming, and wailing sounded together. A cold light flashed on the short knife, which would be pierced through the concrete floor, sending ghosts back into the ground!

With a crisp snap, the yellow paper inserted in the incense burner broke into two pieces.

The ghost slowly raised his head, staring straight at Lin Yan with red eyes under his slanting eyebrows.

It only takes a moment to make a decision. Lin Yan doesn't know where he finds this courage. He tucked his phone into his pant pocket and rushed towards the ghost. A human and a ghost pressed together. Lin Yan wanted to grab the cypress block in his hands, but the ghost's persistence was amazing. His hands were stuck on the wood block. No matter how Lin Yan tried, he couldn't shake him at all.

There was another talisman paper shining. The ghost in the shadow of the lamp completely gave up resisting, curled up on the ground. He shielded the cypress between his thigh and chest, like a poor lunatic, full of unwillingness and resentment, moving backwards with difficulty.

With nothing but love on his lips, who would truly spare his life? This desperate ghost was more sentimental and righteous than humans.

With panicked thoughts, Lin Yan used his tongue to clean the wounds of his arms, resisting the pain and biting hard. The bitter and sour taste rushed into his throat with the blood, and the freshly coagulated blood was unbound by saliva and poured out again. After it started bleeding again, Lin Yan put his arm in front of the grimace, gritted his teeth and said, "I'm here, follow me!"

The ghost looked up at him suspiciously, Lin Yan whispered: "Hey, throw that stuff away."

"Let's go."

"A-Yan, stop this foolish boy!"

Lin Yan grabbed the ghost's hand and dragged him from the ground to the door, and used his feet to disperse the incense ashes. When the formation was broken, the copper coins pressed on the incense ashes bounced straight out with a few clinking noises. Lin Yan busied himself untying the red ropes. Who knew that the ropes were tied so well that there was no quick way to undo them?

Lin Yan turned back in a panic, and saw A-Yan walking towards him with a pale face, holding the talisman. He stumbled and fell to the ground, lifting his pointed face, and gently whispered, "Quickly go."

He was wasting too much time. Lin Yan untied the ropes with his teeth, and rushed out of the temple door with the ghost!

There was a great deal of mourning happening outside the temple. the mountain owls given sullen expressions, and the small courtyard was filled with black air. The jujube tree with its crooked trunk looked as fierce as a dead body with extended bony fingers. It seems that the lonely ghosts in the hundreds of miles around the area had been attracted. In the courtyard The holy spirit banners were pelted by strong winds. On the well sat a drenched female ghost, and "people" dressed as eunuchs in ragged clothes gathered together, their paper lanterns hung in the sky. There was a dark purple constriction on the neck of the person in the front. "I am wronged by my death. . ."

Lin Yan dragged the ghost behind him and ran towards where he parked his car. He was trembling as he pulled out the key, but no matter how hard he pressed it, the beep sound of unlocking the door could not be heard. The magnetic field in the mountain had completely changed, and the remote keys did not work. Lin Yan shaky hands stuffed the key into the keyhole, and he finally opened the door of the car and threw the ghost into the passenger seat. But there was no chance that he could have three lucky breaks happen.

The evil spirit regained consciousness from the pain of the spell. He clasped Lin Yan's throat with his nails, and slowly tightened, a pair of black holes in the messy hair glaring up. . .

"You don't know how to fucking drive. Just sit still for me!" Lin Yan yelled at him irritably, "Who cares if you strangle me to death!"

The hands on the neck didn't make any more moves.

Sure enough, the ghost was afraid of the wicked. Lin Yan pushed him harshly to the chair and put the seatbelt around his waist: "Take a gamble. It's fucking worthless to be killed by this braid army!"

He slammed down hard on the accelerator, twisted the key vigorously, and, with a bang, the car started.

"Sit still." Lin Yan clicked the corner of his mouth, holding the steering wheel, and the black Audi A4 galloped away like in the F1 Grand Prix in the night.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel

[luivampy07]

“Sure enough, my secretary has to be Sayaka Igarashi. No one, but you.” -Kirari

Translator note:

This is an official short novel with pictures written and drawn by the authors.

The coloring part was done by fans.

Please note that this is a direct english translation done based on a chinese

translation of the novel so it consists of errors. (I used google translate, sorry).

The translation may not be accurate but the meaning is there.

And yes, kirasaya are canon couple! Hope you enjoy reading this!

First story

Let me put it straight.

The job of the secretary of the student president of Hyakkaou Private Academy is

indeed very tiring.

A full day begins with getting up in the morning, arriving at school an hour earlier

than the president and entering the secretary office.

Then, I’ve got to organize today’s work, deal with the papers and respond to the

mails. When the president arrives, I meet her at the school gate and accompany

her to the student president’s room to report on the schedule and unresolved

matters. My morning is finally over when the president and the other student

council members take their seats.

But there’s no time to catch a breather. For me, the day’s just begun.

There are many other meetings that the president has to attend, not to mention

student council meetings. For example, there are regular meetings with teachers

and education commitees. Sometimes, clubs within the school are visited by

important politicians and financiers. I will have to accompany her to all of these

and prepare the necessary information. Of course, the materials have to be

organized beforehand. This requires careful reading at home and some extra

investigation if needed. 1

I am reminded of the difficulty of this job when I am suddenly asked for my

opinion or when I give various reports to the president.

“What do you think?”

The only person that I don’t want to be considered a fool by is the president,

although she doesn’t seem to notice my efforts that much. Even so, every word

she says to me is like a breath of fresh air. Next, another wave of pressure

begins.

2

The secretarial work is endless. Beside the paperwork, I have to pay attention to

president’s every move, including her physical condition, and support her in all

aspects.

After school, I’m finally able to take a break. But my leisure is not as important as

hers, so in order for the president to comfortably spend time after school, I have

to accompany her.

That was my daily life now.

“President, you have worked hard today. Would you like some black tea?”

I poured some from a teapot. For me who has never brewed black tea, it turned

out better than expected.

“Thank you, Sayaka. You are so considerate.”

This is perfect. Twilight shines slightly through the curtain crevices while the

warm air is accompanied by quiet classical music. It all gives me a sense of peace

of mind for completing today’s work, and it’s all topped off by being praised by

the president.

“Ara.”

It seems she has noticed something.

“Sayaka, where’s your share?”

There’s no way the president cares about me like this.

“Black tea? Ah, I don’t have to. It’s just for the president to enjoy.”

“Ah, is that so? In that case, your share is also necessary. Please bring another

cup.”

“Yes…”

“There’s nothing special happening today. It’s a peaceful, quiet and boring day.

Let’s play a game.”

The president poured black tea into another cup I brought.

“At the end of the day, don’t you want some excitement?”

As the president said this, she took out a container from somewhere and opened

it. She took out the powder with a spoon and put it in the teacup.

“President, what is this?”

“Citric acid. A lot of it~”

With the stirring of the spoon, the powder dissolved in the black tea and

vanished.

“Then… It wouldn’t be exactly pleasant to drink something like this… Right?”

“Hmm. Didn’t I say this is a gamble? I am going to mess up the order of the two

cups. I may replace the order or I may not. One cup has the ordinary delicious

black tea that Sayaka made. The other one has black tea with a lot of citric acid.

Sayaka, you are going to choose a cup and drink it in one gulp. I’ll drink the one that you didn't choose, lets gamble this way"

Why do we have to play a punishment game?

“Have you ever drunk citric acid? It’s very sour~.”

She laughed and made an expression the same as that of a kid who played a

prank.

“So what do you say? Of course, there isn’t going to be any benefit for neither of

the parties. Even if one wins, the other will have to drink the sour tea… But it’ll

certainly help to get rid of boredom.”

“But I’m certainly not worthy enough to gamble with the president.”

“That’s not true. Be more confident. It’s going to be interesting.”

If the president said that, then, of course, I don’t have the option of rejecting it. If

the president is bored, I have to do something to relieve her boredom.

And… the president’s expression when she drinks something sour… I really want to

see it!

“Please turn around.”

I faced her with my back and the president began disrupting the order of the

teacups.

“It’s ready. Please choose.”

It’s finally time. I didn’t expect that at the end of the day I would gamble with the

president.

“Yes... Leave this to me.”

From my point of view, the right side was “ordinary black tea” and the left “black

tea with citric acid added”. It feels like the position of the cups was truly slightly

changed. That’s right, the president must have indeed moved the cups. But a

swap between left and right is not certain.

I fixated my eyes on the inside of the cups. The citric acid has dissolved

completely, so it seems it cannot be judged from this aspect. What about temperature? The "ordinary black tea" was poured out first.

"Oh, no touching the tea cups"

Of course, the president saw through my thinking. Both sides emit almost the

same amount of vapor, and the smell is nothing special except the fragrance of

black tea.

There’s nothing different between the two cups… Except one thing.

The cup on the left is slightly more concentrated.

What does that mean? The “ordinary black tea” was poured out first and is, of

course, slightly less warm. The degree of vapor divergence should be different.

But the vapor divergence of the two cups of black tea is the same. That is to say…

Yes, there’s only one way to think.

In order to make the temperature of the two cups of tea similar, the president

added tea to the “ordinary black tea” which was poured out first.

The tea cup on the left side with more amount is “ordinary black tea”!

“Fufu. You look very confident.”

“Yes, is that so?”

“Ah, you’re smiling!”

“!”

So embarrassing. The president saw through my defenseless expression. But

there’s nothing I can do about it. I really am happy.

I don’t care about winning this gamble. I’m happy because the winning rate is by

half.

“…Fufu…”

In fact, I have prepared countermeasures beforehand.

The amount of black tea present in the cup really is different. It may be a hint to

get close to the answer, but it may also be a trap or camouflage. The president

may have expected that I would judge that the side with more is “ordinary black

tea”, instead adding black tea to the “black tea with citric acid added”. On the

contrary, it is possible to anticipate that I have also thought of this.

There’s no end to thinking about it, and I don’t think you can win over the

president with logical thinking.

Hence, the plan I have prepared is to decide in advance which cup of tea I’m going

to choose.

Even after the gamble started, even if information and clues were found, it was

still necessary to choose beforehand.

No matter how powerful the president is, she is still not superhuman, therefore

she can’t predict the decision I made beforehand.

That is to say, the odds of winning or losing this game are equal, so I choose…

“Hmm. I choose this one. Right!”

“Then, the long awaited moment has finally arrived. Let’s drink. I’ll choose the one

on the left. Are you sure it’s the one on the right?”

“Yes, please!”

I replied my answer affirmatively. The president picked up the tea cup on the left.

I picked up the one on the right.

“So…I’ll drink it now.”

The president lifted the cup and drank it in one gulp. It was the first time I saw her

drink tea like this. I stopped drinking uncounsciously because I was captivated by

her expression.

“Um…”

The president frowned and lowered her teacup. She showed a very rare, gloomy expression.

Did I win? Did I win in a gamble with the president?

“Well, it’s really…”

This is the first time! It feels like dreaming! I can’t suppress the excitement. But,

now it’s not the time to celebrate. First, let’s finish the gamble and enjoy the taste

of victory.

“…It’s really delicious.”

Very sour!!!!!!!

“Cough, coo, whine… Cough, cough!”

Clang! I dropped the cup and it fell to the ground.

This is… the black tea… it’s extremely sour! Why? Clearly I have won, the

president… Isn’t this cup supposed to be “ordinary black tea”…?!

“Fufufu~”

The president smiled gracefully. Her expression was as if the clouds had never

appeared on her face.

“Anyway, it’s just a sour drink. It’s no big deal if you are aware of it. But what if

you weren’t expecting it?”

I was deceived…! In order to make me react carelessly, the president made a

frowning expression deliberately while drinking “ordinary black tea”!

“President…”

Sure enough, I can’t win in a gamble with the president. I chose the “black tea

with citric acid” just because of my bad luck. It had nothing to do with the amount

of tea in the cups.

However, if the “black tea with citric acid” was chosen instead, the president

would’ve surely drank it without hesitation. Just like she said, it’s not a big deal to

drink it if you’re prepared. As a result, I almost puked out the tea. This would only

happen when the two conditions of surprise and selecting “black tea with citric

acid” are fulfilled. I had no chance of winning since the beginning. Although it was a game to relieve boredom, I recognised the overwhelming power gap between

me and the president.

“I’m sorry. I went a little overboard with my prank.”

The president took out her handkerchief.

“Thanks to you, a boring day has become an interesting memory. Thank you.”

The president gently wiped my lips with the handkerchief.

“Sure enough, my secretary has to be Sayaka Igarashi. No one, but you.”

At that moment, my emotions went up and down intensively. The position of

secretary of the president student council of Hyakkaou Private Academy is indeed

very tiring. But there is no job I enjoy more than this one.

Tl Note: I think Kirari added citric acid into both cups just so she could see Sayaka’s cute expression. Not

to mention Kirari was being so gentle to Sayaka. This is just too cute!

Second Story

The student president of Hyakkaou Private School, Momobami Kirari.

Usually, there is always a smile on her face. To the eyes of the outsiders, it seems

like there is no other expression. But in fact, the president has a lot of charming

expressions: the expression of boredom when day-to-day life brings no

excitement, the satisfied expression after drinking perfectly brewed black tea, all

kinds of expressions…

The secretary room of I, Igarashi Sayaka, is filled with photographs of the

president’s various expressions. I’ve been working hard to fill this room.

In student president’s room.

There are several documents that require the president’s stamp. It is very

unfortunate that she is not around.

Anyway, I put the papers on the table and I will report to the president when she

comes back.

As I was approaching the president’s desk... something strange attracted my

attention.

There was a pamphlet on the table. This scrapbook-like pamphlet laid there

opened. And the content was unbelievable. The information collected in it is

exactly… a lot of my photos.

Amused, sad, angry. In the scrapbook, there were photos of my various

expressions. Just like the president collection in my secretary room.

Unbelievable. Why did the president collect my photos?

It can’t be like this. Although this is what it seems to be, it can’t be like this… The

president collects my photos the same way I do?

My body temperature rose abruptly. My heart started to beat faster. Needless to

say, I must be all red now.

No way, no way, no way…If that’s the case, President, I…

I accidentally bumped into the table as I was shaking, and another book fell on the

floor due to the shock. I opened it up… It was also a scrapbook. And the person on

the photos inside was… Jabami Yumeko.

My brain nerves suddenly cooled to the point where I could think normally.

What the hell was I thinking? Now, I understand why the president collected

these photos to make a scrapbook.

She likes to look at things she can’t understand.

In other words, it is also one of her interests to look at various expressions of

people she finds interesting.

Although nobody could see me, I laughed a little.

What a fool I am. I misunderstood the president to have the same feelings I have

for her.

I just want to do my best for her. I don’t expect to understand her anymore.

I just want to stay by her side. As long as I can, I will…

Chak! The sound of the shutter.

I was shocked and looked to see what it was. When I turned back, the president

was standing there.

“Sayaka, your expression is very interesting.”

Now I get what just happened. This was a prank. These scrapbooks were only

prepared by the president to take a picture of my expression at the moment.

Although I already expected this, I couldn’t help but sigh. She really does

everything just to achieve her goals.

“This photo will be kept in the Sayaka Collection which I took the time to make,

Fufu~~. From now on, let me see more of your different expressions.”

Ah, president...

Just by staying with you, I can feel so much joy and happiness.

My lifetime dream has already been fulfilled, just to be able to stay by your side

like this.

-The end-

Credits:

- Translator: https://mobile.twitter.com/sofancyqq

Editor: https://mobile.twitter.com/Delia02991441

#kakegurui #kakegurui manga #kirari x sayaka #kirasaya #kirari momobami #igarashi sayaka #sayaka igarashi #canon couples #lesbian #gay

[thegcblinfather-archive]

“Geez kid, this place is a mess.” Loki commented as he looked around what appeared to be an old church or maybe it had been a throne room.  It was kind of hard to tell.  Maybe it had been both at one point, but now it served as the Nether Guardian’s home.  He kicked a plank of wood out of the way.  “Didn’t your parents ever teach you how to keep house?” he asked, looking back at the teen.  Before they could answer, the goblin turned back to pick up one of the longer pieces of wood and started using it like a makeshift broom to push the other chunks of old furniture off to the side.  “Then again, I guess it’d be pretty hard to keep a place clean around here, huh?” he spoke, more to himself than to the boy.

Warden just stared at his friend.  “P- P- Paaaaar-r-reeeenntss?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head curiously.

Loki’s ears twitched and he looked back at the teen “Wha-  Oh, you… You don’t know what parents are, do you?”

The Guardian only blinks slowly.

“Really?  No mom?  No dad?”

He shook his head.

“Do you… Even know what those are?”

Another shake.

Loki sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck “Yeah, I should’ve figured that’d be the case.  What parent would leave their kid in a place like this willingly?”  Feeling Warden’s gaze still fixated on him, the former god figured that he was probably waiting for an explanation.  He’s explained everything else so far but… How do you explain family, and a parent’s love, to someone who, more than likely, never knew either.

“Uhm, well, parents aaaare, the people who gave you life.  They raise you and they’re supposed to love and protect you no matter what.  Everybody has parents.”

Another slow blink before Warden points to himself “M- M- Meeee?”

“Yeah, even you.  You gotta have parents out there somewhere.”

Warden scratched his scales “P- P- Paaarrreeennttss.”  He… He had parents?  How did Loki know?  Then again, Loki knows a lot of things, because Loki is smart.  But where could they be?  Why weren’t they protecting him?  But did he really need protecting?  He’s done fine so far, but there have also been times where he wasn’t fine.  Where were they then?  Maybe something happened to them.

Loki seemed to read his thoughts, because the man stepped forward to place a hand on the teen’s shoulder “Hey, don’t overthink it.  If your parents are out there, I’ll help you find them, okay?  We just gotta get out of here first.  Who knows, maybe they’re in my world.”

The teen smiled softly at the man.  If he does have family out there, he’d love to meet them one day.

Loki patted Warden’s back “Alright, now, help me clean this place up a bit.”

Warden set about moving the collapsed bricks and pillar debris to one corner of the room while the goblin gathered the scattered wood furniture into one small pile and then one bigger pile.  “There we go.” Loki said, looking around the massive room “This looks much better, don’t you think?”

Warden’s only response is a shrug.  He… Supposed it looks nicer.

“Ah, well, it’ll do.” Loki said with his own shrug.  He picked up what used to be the leg of a chair “This wood is pretty dry and worn.  Should burn good.”  Kneeling down, he took off his pack and took out what looked like two rocks.  He looked back to his companion, holding up the rocks “These, these are not for eating.  Okay?”

Warden nodded.  No eating the special Loki rocks.  He watched with fascination as Loki struck the rocks against each other and sparks erupted from them.  A few more strikes later and the small wood pile is set alight.  Oh!  Special fire rocks!  He’s never seen such a thing.

With the fire lit, Loki leaned back, brown eyes scanning the room further now that there was more than just the crimson moonlight to work by.  He can’t imagine what this place must’ve been like in its heyday.  Hell, he never even knew that the Nether had once been inhabited, but, obviously, these ruins were proof that this was once a thriving world.  What happened to these people?

Eyes wander back to Warden.  Was he the last one?  The only survivor of a great tragedy?  Based on what he already knew, that seemed the most likely explanation.  After all, he recognized most of the gods they’d run into already, and he was pretty sure there’d be more he’d come to find later, but Warden… Warden was an anomaly.  He claimed to remember nothing besides the Nether, and even then the boy’s memory seemed spotty at best.  Though Loki can’t blame him.  An eternity in a place like this the days are bound to start blending together.  Being in that lizard form so often probably doesn’t help either.  Poor kid…

“Hey, if you wanna get some sleep, you can.  I’ll take the first watch.” he offered.

Warden looked back at Loki for a second.  He didn’t seem entirely sure about letting the man have free range of his home, but after a few more moments of silent consideration, the teen nodded.  He got to his feet and walked over to the raised platform that Loki was pretty sure once hosted a throne, but now only held a pile of old and worn clothes that served as the guardian’s “nest.”  The former god watched as Warden paced around in the nest for a second before he finally laid down to rest.

Loki himself leaned back, staring up at the high arched ceiling.  He wondered what this world was once like, and what happened to it?  There must be answers around here somewhere.  He noticed the branching off corridors to the main room they were staying in.  Either this church is bigger than it seems, or it’s not a church at all.

He waits, staring at the ceiling, until he can hear Warden snoring soundly from where he slept.  Getting up, he moves over to one of the corridors, pulling the door open to be greeted by nothing but pitch darkness.  It’s so dark that even he has difficulty seeing.  Though with the little he is able to see, he does spot a lantern dangling from a sconce on the wall.  He takes it and is pleasantly surprised to find it’s an oil lantern with a bit of fuel left.  He walks back over to the fire and uses a small ember to ignite the oil.  The small flame provided just enough of the light he needed to see.

Satisfied that the light wasn’t about to go out as soon as he entered the darkness, Loki crept deeper into the “church.”  The first corridor is lined with once beautiful stained glass windows.  One shattered, letting in the sand and blocking off the rest of the way.  He’s pretty sure he can have Warden dig a path through later, for now, he wants to let the boy rest.  He enters the main room again to enter the corridor on the other side.

This one, fortunately, isn’t blocked and he’s able to continue his exploration ever deeper into grand corridors that were probably once busy with servants and royals alike.  It’s while he’s walking does Loki accidentally kick something and his ears twitch as it skitters across the floor.  Strange, that didn’t sound like any of the other materials he’s-

As he lowers the light for a better look, the goblin freezes at the sight that greets him.  Remains.  Human by the looks of it.  Though it’s a bit difficult to tell considering all that’s left are bones and tattered clothes.  Holding the light up a little higher, he’s horrified to find that, it’s not just one body.  The whole corridor is littered with remains, and, based on how they fell, it almost looked like… They were running from something.  He turned back to look down the way he came.  Something that came from the main room.

From what were they trying to escape?  And what could have possibly wiped out so many people at once?

This mystery was only getting bigger, but maybe he’ll find answers deeper in the ruins.  Continuing on, Loki peeks into some of the connecting corridors and rooms.  Some doors are blocked by debris, or maybe they’re just locked, he’s not sure, but he can try later if he manages to find a lock pick.  Or he can just have Warden break the door down.  The kid was built like an Ox, and befriending the Nether Guardian had already proven beneficial.  He can’t believe no one’s thought of it before.  Then again, usually it’s nasty gods with an ego problem that get sent here so he can’t entirely say he’s surprised.

Careful not to step on any more bones, Loki continues forward.  Eventually he reaches a set of spiral stairs that lead up to another floor.  He suspects it’s adjacent to the main room because it doesn’t seem like the stairs go far enough up to pass the high ceilings.  His suspicions are confirmed as he opens a door and almost falls right back into the main room.  His tail immediately shoots out and hooks onto the ledge, causing him to hiss in pain as he pulls himself back onto the ledge.

Looks like there used to be a balcony here, and there was still a bit left, but he’s not risking stepping out onto that.  The thing looks like it’s still crumbling and could come down any second.  He looks back out into the main room, seeing Warden still snoring in his nest, the man leaves the door open to keep inspecting the other rooms.

One appears to be a servant’s quarters.  It’s small, but not exactly poor either.  Must have been a high ranking servant.  There’s a desk, closet, bookcase and a raised part of the floor with sleeping matts.  Peculiar.  The architecture looks like a blend of Western European and East Asian.  Everything feels familiar but different at the same time.

Approaching the bookcase and running his hands along the spine, Loki can’t help but wonder if their worlds are somehow connected.  Did the people here flee to his world?  How can that be?  There’s no magic here.  At least… Not any more.

Picking one of the books, he opens it only to be greeted with familiar, yet strange characters.  Korean?  No.  Chinese?  No.  Perhaps Mongolian?  He’s not sure.  It almost feels like a blend of all three and then some.  He sighs, putting the book away.  Well, at least these people were sophisticated enough to have written records.  He might be able to start deciphering it, but it’s going to take a while.  Maybe he can turn this room into his own office.  It’s not like there’s anyone left to protest.

As he turns to look around the room, movement catches his eye.  Something just ducked around the corner!  He quickly runs out of the room, stopping in the hallway and looking around but… Nothing.  What the…?  He could’ve sworn he saw something.

As he’s about to turn back, to keep examining the books, but his ears twitch at the sound of soft footsteps.  Loki turns towards the sound instead and in the distance just as he hears a door shut.  He knows he should wake Warden, but… The darkness feels like it’s calling him.  Begging him to follow.  That if he waits a moment longer, then whatever’s been lost will never be found.  Taking a deep breath, he follows this feeling.

Turning the corner, Loki freezes as he notices a sliver of light beneath the crack of a door farther down the hall.  What the Hell?  “Okay, this is getting weirder.” he mutters, moving to stand in front of the door, looking down at the light.

There couldn’t possibly be someone living here, could there?  Warden told him the only entrance was the broken window they had entered, and the rest of this place seemed like it was buried under sand.  Then again, there really wasn’t telling how big this place was.  Maybe there was another section that wasn’t as buried as the rest, just like the main room.  What if there’s a tower sticking out that someone could enter through?  They’d never know.

Taking out his dagger, Loki grips the door handle, clicking it open slowly before kicking it open.  Weapon at the ready, but not needed for as soon as he’d entered the room, the light he saw was no more.  In fact, except for some old and dusty furniture, there wasn’t anything in the room. Well, there was a broken window with sand half pouring in.  He stepped further into the room.  “Ooookaaaay.  This is… Unexpected.” Loki spoke, looking around.

He walks over to the window, and peeks out.  Sand, sand and more sand.  This room was completely underground, but how does that explain the mystery light?  If there had been someone here then there wouldn’t have been anywhere to go.  Stepping back, he looked around the room.

Another bedroom.  This one is much bigger and the furniture here is much more elegant than the servant’s quarters he’d seen before.  It seemed divided in half though.  Two beds, two dressers, two mirrors.  Everything on opposite ends of the room.  One side however had what looked like an abundance of children’s toys, while the other felt more… Mature.  Everything was organized and there were only a few toys lingering about.  Siblings?  An older and younger perhaps?

He walked over to the desk on the older sibling’s side.  There was a small shelf of books above it.  He picked one out and almost immediately dropped it when he opened to the first page.  This… He knew this handwriting!  Not only that but the language was identical to the encoded journals he’d been forced to write a thousand times as an apprentice.  But what had his master been doing here?!

He looked back around the room.  Was this… Was this where Chaos grew up?  His attention turned back to the journal.  Fingers running over the first page.

‘Property of Egril Fenrir’

He knew Chaos was not his master’s real name, they’d said so themself,  but that they’d forgotten it a long time ago.  Was his real name Egril Fenrir?  Will giving Chaos his name back help restore the old god’s memory?

He flips to the next page.  It never even occurred to him that the encrypted language Chaos had taught him was actually his native tongue.  This was truly fascinating, and maybe he could use it to help translate some of the other books in this place.  He snaps the book shut, putting it in his bag before reaching for another.  There are three journals in total.  First hand accounts of what happened to his master in this place.  One piece in an ever growing puzzle, but at least it was a start.

Picking the lantern back up, Loki moves to leave the room only to let out a terrified scream when he opens the door to see Warden.  The goblin supports himself on the wall, clutching his chest “By the throne Warden!  You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“S- S- Soooo- Oo- Ooorrrryyyy.” the teen replied “W- W- Wooorrrri- iiiiieed.”

Loki took a deep breath, slowing his heart back down “I- It’s alright.  Sorry if I worried you.  I just… Wanted to explore this place a bit.”  He patted their shoulder, moving past the boy to start making their way back down the hall “Come on, let’s go back to the main room.”

Warden nodded, sticking close to Loki as they walked.  Too close.

Loki almost tripped three times from Warden accidentally stepping on his heels.  “Warden, can you-” his words die when he notices the teen looking about nervously.  “It… Wasn’t just me you were worried about, was it?” he asks, eyeing the boy closely.

The teen shook his head.

Loki was quiet for a moment.  “Warden, do you… See things?  Or hear them?”

He nodded “V- V- Vooooiiiicces a- a- an’ sh- shhhhh- Shhhhaaaaaddooows.”

“Ghosts?  Hmm… Interesting.” reaching back, he held onto Warden’s hand “Don’t worry, they won’t get you while I’m here, okay?”  Seeing Warden smile at him, Loki continued forward.  Fortunately nothing else strange happened to them while they settled back down in the main room.  What Warden said was interesting though.  Ghosts.  In a place like this?  Well, it explained the mystery light at least, and maybe it would prove useful in the future.  This world and its people might be dead, but their shadows are still here.

#the father: loki #the nether guardian: warden #drabble

[rigelmejo]

Comprehension Levels

I did the actual words-known/words-on-page to find out my comprehension % of chinese (so characters known/characters on page to make things simple to count). i wanted to see how close I am to reading at that 98% sweet spot they tell people to read. so here’s my comprehension % of some novels of mine, as of 7/20/21:

撒野: 98.9% comprehension (I should just extensively read it, I could speed read the page I glanced at and guess the unknown words once I saw them)

SVSSS: 97.9% (pretty much at a comfortable reading level, the unknown hanzi were mostly parts of multi-character description words I could roughly guess the meaning of, but I was marking every unknown character)

小王子: 96.8% (again, this is as of today, I flipped to a random page so I wouldn’t have myself remembering the plot to affect how much I ‘knew’)

DMBJ 1: 96%

Peach Blossom Debt: 96% if I count name characters as unknown, 97% comprehension if I ignore character names. (I imagine part of the difficulty is my lack of xianxia reading vocab, so if I intensively read a few beginning chapters I could probably fix that).

Guardian: 95.7% understood (I picked the last page of the first print volume, as I figured if I picked the first chapter which I’ve studied and reread my comprehension level would be higher than if it was a part of the novel I haven’t read)

Update: the current fanfic I am reading 夜半衣寒，I tested my comprehension of the new chapter 16 I started. Out of 705 characters, I didn’t know 9, 695/705=0.987 so I have 98.7% comprehension! This is interesting to me, because I would guess (since I didn’t actually measure at the time), that I did not have above 98% comprehension when I started reading it (of course I’ve read like 34k+ characters of it now so I’d hope I’m more familiar with its vocab now). So this is just info for me, that if something starts out as ‘hard’ as this fic to start, if I intensively read for a while (and I’d guess probably the first few chapters since that’s where author’s own specific language is the most new and their setup/genre words hopefully get introduced), I might be able to learn enough words to put it into a more comfortable regular comprehension level for myself. I do think, at least now that I’m into the flow of this story, I’m reading it a bit faster (still on the slower end since I look up every unknown or ‘fuzzy’ word to double check the pronunciation). To be fair to me? These chapters are 20 pleco pages, which used to take me 1-1.5 hours ToT. Now they take 30-40 minutes, since I slow down to look up things and listen to certain sections, but considering they’d take 15-20 minutes to follow along to someone narrating out loud, I’m getting closer to a normal reading speed. If I sped read/extensively read these chapters instead of intensively looking things up, I may well be at 20-30 minutes a chapter. 

Last night I read 4496 characters, chapter 1 of 福尔摩斯  血字的研究. I used the click-dictionary for new words, and there was definitely a lot of new vocab (though mostly places and names confused me). All of the experiment related new vocab it was nice to see though and learn, since I like reading mysteries I’m sure those words will come up again in other stuff I read. 

Some things I find interesting about this information: I read 小王子 extensively months ago so presumably when I comprehended a bit less than the current amount (since I learned a lot of new words from context or from glancing at the english translation for some words). So whatever my personal ‘minimum’ level of comprehension I can personally tolerate when reading extensively is, it’s below 96% comprehension. 

Listening Reading Method and other activities I’ve been doing has helped my comprehension a LOT. I did NOT expect the comprehensions of all these to be as close to 98% as they are. Particularly Guardian, being at 95% - that isn’t very far from the comfortable reading material level of ‘98%’ I’m aiming for. I’m not sure how fast I can boost up my comprehension just a BIT more, but wow is it close to the goal...

On a related note, that explains why Guardian and Silent Reading have felt relatively easier for me to ‘extensively read’ when I feel like it lately. While I still have some difficulty, since I have familiarity with the general story (Guardian) or have read the english translation (Silent Reading), the new words are not super hard to guess and therefore following the main idea is not an issue. Guardian is above the 95% comprehension level for me now, and its likely I extensively read a novel I had NO prior knowledge about -  小王子 - also at 95% comprehension or less.

I looked up the comprehension level I had because I just read this article about how to pick reading material when learning a new language, and it made me curious how far Below that 98% comprehension level I usually try to read.

For comparisons, I’m curious how my personal comprehension compares to the general-vocab-difficulty tool and results I got from that (which can be viewed in this post more in depth). 

This was the novel’s ranking, from easiest to harder, based on that tool (lower number = more difficult):

小王子 2.004

DMBJ 1 1.992

撒野 1.98

SVSSS 1.9

Guardian 1.9

Peach Blossom Debt  1.858

I am guessing the difference in order of difficulty compared to my personal comprehension levels, might have to do with the materials I learn from? Or may have to do with the fact the tool sorts by full words, not characters, so 2-4 character words/phrases that are unknown would only count as one unit. Whereas when I calculated my comprehension I counted by character (since I was physically counting on paper it was easier to just go by character when counting unknown versus amount-of-content on the page). Also, the tool took a bigger sample of 2,000 words for each novel, whereas I used 300-500 characters per page samples.

It’s also possible, because of the small amount of characters in my comprehension % samples - Guardian overall may have more unknown words and put it lower than 95% overall, and stuff like DMBJ may well have a lot more words I know and potentially be more comprehensible than 96% overall. 

For the most part I had 4-15 unknown characters per page. Which could realistically affect my reading more or less depending on what role they served in the sentence. Characters in descriptions I can figure out the rough meaning of easier when reading because they’re often part of 2-4 character words and phrases where I know the rest of the characters, or they’re an emotion/mood description another word I know on the page will also re-state, but unknown characters for critical verbs or nouns affect story comprehension a lot more. Xiao wang zi is a good example of my overall actual reading level, since some unknown hanzi were in descriptions and I could ‘guess’ well enough to follow just ine, but some of the unknown hanzi on the page were verbs and nouns which makes those sections harder to comprehend. 

Some promising notes from articles!

From FluentU: https://www.fluentu.com/blog/reading-in-a-second-language/

So I am at the spot for most novels I want to read right now 95%+, where if I read with a dictionary it probably feels okay and I will learn a lot, but it will feel challenging at times.

And for a few (at least SaYe) I can really just extensive read the way its supposed to feel. 

Reading Rockets: https://www.readingrockets.org/article/fluency-introduction

This article puts 95% as the minimum comprehension level for a person to read to improve reading fluency.

This https://readingmatrix.com/articles/september_2011/prichard_matsumoto.pdf

is an interesting paper, and puts 95% as the minimum for comprehension to read unassisted, but also mentions it could be a spectrum rather than all-or-nothing. Readers who use strategies to comprehend more can improve their comprehension a bit, and readers who have background knowledge on the subject can improve their ability to comprehend the reading material a bit. 

This part was also fascinating: “ Hu and Nation (2000) sought to examine the lexical threshold more deeply. They tested the comprehension of a narrative text by 66 advanced learners, adapting the text to include frequent words estimated to be known by all the subjects. They replaced uncommon words with nonsense words in order to set coverage levels to 80%, 90%, 95%, and 100%. Comprehension of the various versions of the passages was measured by a multiple-choice comprehension test and a recall measure. Subjects at the 95% level had a mean score of 10.2 points out of 14 on the multiple-choice text, while the readers with 90% coverage averaged only slightly lower at 9.5 points. There were a wide range of scores at these two coverage levels with 7 of 16 subjects at the 90% level getting a higher score than the mean score of the 95% coverage group. The results were similar on the recall measure. Overall, while there was a clear and strong correlation between coverage and comprehension, the existence of the 95% lexical threshold was not supported by Hu and Nation. They estimate that if there was a comprehension threshold at all, it may have been between 80 and 90% since all the readers with 80% coverage had difficulty comprehending the text. Hu and Nation state that learners at the 90% were able to reach comprehension through reading skills and background knowledge. They also hypothesize that 98% may be the coverage required at which most learners can comprehend the text adequately. The mark they set to determine this was about 85% comprehension, which was much higher than that used by Laufer (1989, 1992). “

“ Lower threshold: A percentage at which comprehension becomes possible; a percentage at which few learners below have any significant comprehension of the text (referred to by Hu & Nation, 2000, as potentially being between 80 and 90%). 211 

Significant increase threshold: A coverage point above which learners’ mean comprehension increases significantly (95%, based on Laufer, 1989). 

Adequate comprehension threshold: A percentage at which most learners achieve “adequate comprehension” (suggested as 95% in Laufer, based on 55% comprehension; hypothesized as 98% coverage in Hu & Nation based on 85% comprehension). 

Upper threshold: A point above which an increase in coverage does not lead to improved comprehension (Laufer, 1992). If it exists, it is likely 98-99%.

That study may explain why some people with lower vocab knowledge ‘feel’ more ok with reading at lower comprehensions (that’d be me lol ToT). When I was learning french, I started reading extensively at a somewhat low vocab level, and in english I knew in elementary school I’d pick up novels for adults and read some sometimes, and by end of elementary I had a college reading level, so mm.

#reading #reading comprehension #reading progress #july #july progress #articles

[myinnersoul1412]

Hatori Novel Smexy scene 1

I'm not good at drawing, and I'm good at writing either so I hope this could somewhat serve at a present for fellow Domestica fans on Hatori’s birthday

Please note that it's translated by Google translate + a few more translator+ some common sense or interpretation so please take it with a grain of salt. I don't know Japanese beyond the basic characters but I'm just doing it because I love them so much

Even though the translation probably sucks, please don’t bring it anywhere since I spent a ton of time on it and just want to share.

Prior to this scene, Hatori and Yoshino were on a date at to collect materials for the manuscript. The setting is on Christmas’eve. They went to a Chinese restaurant to eat together, and while the food was good, Yoshino commented that Tori’s food was still better. During the meal, Hatori had to step outside for a work phone call because a newbie author (female, 2nd year college) wanted to ask his opinion on her storyboard.

Funny note: Hatori hated taking pictures but still posed as models for Yoshino to take pics anyway. 

Some touching lines:

Speaking of the real intention, it is not without thinking that this convenient dream will be awakened by the sudden impetus. The end may come someday, but I'm still going to enjoy this happiness. Even if this comes to an end some day, now that you have enjoyed all this happiness, even if you wake up from a dream, you will never forget it.

(If I say this to Yoshino, the him from way before would have been stunned **)

He secretly smiles at his self-ridicule. Of course, he wants to be with Yoshino his whole life.

As long as he’s allowed to be by his side, he’s not going to leave.It's just that that feeling and his wish for Yoshino's happiness are a little different. In the unlikely event that Hatori’s presence could be a burden or have a negative effect, he intends to behave accordingly. It is a commandment to himself.

This smexy scenes comes after their date. Enjoy!

Because this year progress is not desperate, there are no assistants coming in and out, and Yanase should be stuck at the seinenshi’s sensei place.(T/N: magazine for young men)

 “Well then. Don't stay up late today and go to bed early. Good luck with the manuscript tomorrow”  

“…………”

For some reason, Yoshino didn't try to step out, even though Hatori tried to see him off at the branch road to his home. On the contrary, he was pinching Hatori’s coat and holding it down.

“Yoshino?”

Yoshino’s cheeks that were looking down were slightly red. It didn't look like he was drunk, but could it be the afterglow of alcohol? 

“------You know. Normally, you wouldn’t go home on a day like this?”

“?”

 He didn't understand what Yoshino was saying, and the former had a perplexed face. In response to such a dull reaction from Hatori, Yoshino stamped his feet on the ground.

 “So! You're back from a date!”

 I looked(T/N: look, but with eyes wide open) at Yoshino who raised his voice frustratingly. I couldn’t hide the surprise that Yoshino also perceived today as a date.  

 “What’s with that face! Even though you can add embarrassing scenes to a plot, what do you mean you can't do it in real life……”

 Yoshino murmured the dissatisfying words. I rubbed my eyes to see if I was having a convenient dream, but it seemed to be reality.

 “I want to confirm, that is to say ---”

 “Read the mood in times like this!”

 He held his breath against Yoshino who glared at him with a red face.  

 (This is……is it okay to accept the invitation……?)

 In retrospect, today's Yoshino was somewhat strange from the beginning. I wondered if it might even snow, but I would be troubled if he got angry.  

 “Can I stay the night?”

 “………”

 When asked straight, Yoshino dyed red to his neck and nodded a little.  

Both of them were silent on their way to Yoshino’s room. Every step I took made me feel more nervous. My body temperature gradually rose, even though the cold night breeze was brushing my cheeks.

“Ah? Where did I put the key?”

 Yoshino panicked in front of the room. He was just looking at the pockets in his coat and trousers, and he seemed to be forgetting the bag on his shoulder.  

 “Is it there in your bag pocket?”

 “R-right”

 The fingers that opened the zipper were trembling. Yoshino, who had no sense of control, dropped the key. The sound of bumpy metal crashed into the hallway.

 “I'll open it”

 Hatori picked up the key and opened the front door. At that moment, Yoshino felt small and seemed to be holding his breath.  

 “Thank- thank you”

 Open the door and encourage Yoshino to enter first. Yoshino’s movement walking in front of me started to feel more jerky.  

 “Um, do you want something to drink?”

 The voice which asked the question was trembling too. Even though I was just nervous, it seemed like Yoshino's tension was infectious.  

 I guessed I should have gotten used to it, since we had already done it so many times, but I didn’t want to look so dismayed in front of the person I liked.

 “No”

 “Ah, then how about a shower?

 “……Ah”

 His pink nape caused the little amount of reason remaining in me to give away. I held Yoshino’s shoulders, turned him around, and strongly kissed him.

 “Nnn……?”

 Perhaps surprised by Hatori's brute force, Yoshino’s eyes were wide open. However, immediately, the body’s tension was released and his eyelids lowered.  Eating his lips and twisting his tongue, Yoshino put his hands on Hatori's back. As the kiss deepened, the more they clung into each other.(T/N: literal translation is “the stronger the clinging force became”)

 “Nnn,n,nn……”

Embracing Yoshino's body, which was gradually melting, I became absorbed and devoured his lips. Every time I entangled my tongue, I heard a wet sound. I teased his tongue which was trying to entangle awkwardly, and enjoyed the mouth that was hotter than usual. I wanted to continue more, but when I noticed Yoshino who seemed to be suffocating, I broke the kiss with the feeling that my back hair was getting pulled.  

“……Stupid, we're still in the hallway”

Yoshino complained while being out of breath. Hatori strongly pulled Yoshino’s waist, who was glaring up at him with flushed cheeks, and whispered into his ear.  

 “It’s your fault for stirring me up(t/n: to stir up, to incite, to agitate). And you were responding, too”

 “That, that was just conditioned reflex……”

 “Is that so?”

 “What do you want to say!”

 “I didn’t say anything”

 “There's something written all over your face”  

 It was a sulking look, but there was sweetness in the gaze (T/N: not very sure about this part). Towards Yoshino who showed a sullen face due to the embarrassment, sadistic desires were aroused.

 “What is written, can you tell me carefully?”

 “Eh?-----Uwa”

 Heading to the bedroom while holding the waist, they fell into the bed entangled together.

 “Oi Tori----------”

 Fueled by Yoshino's moist eyes, he kissed him again as if he was being sucked in. He repeated the devouring kisses and ran his hands over Yoshino's clothes. While sighing and moaning into the sealed kiss, I pinned down and felt around/groped the thin body. Rolling up the inner knitwear, I touched his bare skin.

 I managed to get rid of the coat, and I was frustrated by the difficulty of movement while loosening the belt, and realized that I had not even taken off my jacket yet.

 (I really can't afford it)

 Internally, Hatori laughed bitterly at his impatience. He roughly stripped off his coat and jacket, which normally would have been dutifully hung, and pulled out his tie.  

 “Hey, slow down a bit………”

 “I can't”

 “Then try harder!”

If you answered immediately, you would get a retort from Yoshino. When I stroked around the area where Yoshino’s ribs had previously floated, Yoshino stirred under Hatori. It was still a bit thin, but it had gained a lot of flesh after all my daily efforts.

 “I'm deeply moved/very emotional that I've come to be able to grab it”

 “Oi, hey, don’t rub it……!”

 When Hatori grabbed his side, Yoshino wriggled ticklishly.  

“Then, how about here?”  

“Hya—”

He moved his hand further up, gently stroked the tip of his chest with the pad of his thumb, and then crushed it, a shrill voice escaped Yoshino's lips.The ticklish Yoshino was sensitive here too. When stimulated, it easily hardened. 

“Ah, mmm, ouch, stupid, not so hard”

 “You like it when it hurts, don't you?”  

 When you pinched it, the body jumped.

 “Ahh, n,nnn……!”

 When I knead it with some strength, it reddened like a fruit, and Yoshino rubbed his knees together as if frustrated. It looked like his nipples weren’t the only things getting hard.  

 When I forcibly split his knees and pressed my leg against his groins, I felt a hard tantalizing touch.

 “Ugh.... ah, wait, ah, ah”

 Rubbing it with your thigh made it even more tense. Hatori pushed down Yoshino's pants, which had been loosened at the waist. His underwear had changed color at some parts.

 “You're already wet”

 When I told him the fact, Yoshino turned red to his ears.  

 “W-Well, I'm not the only one... ah”

 “Maybe so”  

 “Ah……!?”

 He ran his index finger over the elastic of Yoshino’s underwear and lightly pulled it down, revealing a taut member. Hatori traced up the warped underside and scooped the moistened tip with his fingertips.

 “Ahh, ah………”

 When I wrapped my fingers around the whole cock and rubbed it gently, Yoshino let out a sweet and seductive/mellow voice. His appearance when clutching the bedsheet and enduring the pleasure was lovely.

 (How cute/How lovely)  

 He was usually sloppy, and he was quick to whine, but at the root of Yoshino's character is a stubbornness that hated to lose. Once he had made a decision, no matter what, he was not going to change it.

 “Yoshino, take that off”

 “Get ready first, you idiot...”

 While rebuking Hatori, Yoshino reached into a drawer on the sideboard. He found what he was looking for, and embarrassed to present something that could be used on him, he carelessly pressed it against my chest.  

 “Thank you”

 The bottle of lotion and the box of contraceptives that he had ready were new. I wondered what kind of expression did Yoshino buy these things with.

Resisting the urge to pursue the answer, I took the content in the palm of my hand. Making sure to squeeze it and spread it all over my fingers, I wrapped around his excitement again.  

 “Hya……ah,ah……!”

 When I made it slimy up and down, Yoshino's moan became even sweeter. After making it feel as tight as it could be, I probed behind with my wet fingers.  

 “Mmm,mm”

Yoshino sighed when I forcibly pushed my fingertips into the tightly closed place. He didn’t realize that he was tightening his limbs, but I pushed my fingers deeper and deeper.

 “Ngh,nghh……”

 Yoshino clenched his teeth as he endured the sensation of being probed inside his body.  It was not originally designed to accept foreign substances, but he slowly got used to it as lotion was added several times along the way.  Every time I pulled my finger in and out, a lewd squelching sound was heard.  

 “Ah…ah,ah……mm”

Yoshino's hands wandered around on the bed looking for something to cling to. Eventually, he grabbed a pillow and pulled it over to bury his face in it. Realizing that he didn’t want to let out his voice, I moved my fingers even more.  

 “Ah, ah, ah……!”  

 With increased fingers, I pushed hard against the inner wall and Yoshino's body jumped like a fish on land. I could tell that he was getting pleasure from the melting moans/charming moans.  

 I already knew all of Yoshino’s sensitive spots. I couldn’t afford to tease him today. Just tortured severely the spots where he would surely react.  

 “No, not only there, ahhh, ah!”  

 Yoshino wasn’t negative/contradictory about getting pleasure, but when he felt too good, he suddenly got scared.  I could understand the uneasiness of feeling like I was no longer myself. But I had no intention of toning it down.(T/N: other possible meanings: keeping it moderate/mild)

 “Aahh, no, ah, ah----!?”  

 The root of the arousal that was about to burst was tightened and the i that would have been risen was suppressed. Yoshino, who was going to be released, stared at Hatori with an agitated expression/ in turmoil.  

 “W-why……”  

 “You can hold it a bit more right?”  

 If I made him come first on a tiring day, he often fell asleep immediately after that. As expected, it would be a problem if that were to happen today.  I was already painfully tense. It wouldn’t be easy to take care of it alone.  

 “You have to take responsibility for the invitation”

 “Ahh……”  

 As I pulled out the fingers that were probing inside, a sweet, trembling voice escaped. I had feared it might still be a little tight, but my patience had already reached the limit.  

 “Are you ready?”(T/N: “Is it okay?”)

 “……Do whatever you want”(T/N: ……Suit yourself”)  

 With Yoshino's permission, I pushed open his knees. I restlessly loosened my waist and pulled my excited self out from the underwear.  I quickly put on the condom and when I fit into the prepared spot, the body temperature and pulsation were transmitted vividly.

 “Ah------”  

 I pushed the tip in with a huff. Running out of patience, I shoved in mercilessly.  Although it was still narrow/tight as he thought, but it had already learned Hatori’s shape and accepted him without refusal.  

 I secretly let out a sigh from the pleasure of being wrapped in the soft mucous membrane.

 “Nghh……why……why is it so big……ngh”  

 Yoshino glared at me resentfully with teary eyes. This might be more of a whining rather than a complaint. I was embarrassed to be complained about the body’s physiological reaction. It wasn’t something that could be controlled by reason.  

 “Of course it's because I want you. There isn’t any guy who’s not excited about holding someone he loves”  

“Idiot ......ngh”

 It was unreasonable to be spit a verbal abuse at like that even though I answered his question. In a fit of anger, I forcefully pushed it to the root, and cloudy whiteness was scattered by the momentum/impetus/force.

 “Ahh……ngh”

 He seemed to have come just by stimulation at the back because he was made to endure it earlier. The bodily fluid overflowing from the explosion was scattered across the thin abdomen.

 “I didn't say that you could come first right?”

 “B-but……”

 I wiped the overflowing bodily fluids with my fingers and treat Yoshino's arousal as if to smear it. I rubbed it hard, and it got tighter there with Hatori inside.

 “Ahh, ah, no, I’m going to come again……”

 “That won’t do. It's better if we come together right?”

 “Yeah ... but ...ngh”

 “You can't hold it for me?”

 “Meany Tori……Uh, ah, ah, nghh, ngh!”  

 What Yoshino said not to do was the same as what he said he wanted you to do. The reaction inside changed depending on the intensity of the stimulus. As I was enjoying the change, I was complained to by Yoshino, who was on the verge of tears.

“No, idiot, don't play anymore……ngh”  

 “You want me to focus more here?”

 “Ahngh!?”  

 I gave a hard shove at the place where our bodies connected.  

 “No, ahhh, ah, ah……ngh”

 I put myself into the root and shook up our connected bodies. Every time I sent my hips in, Yoshino's body jolted and trembled. I grabbed Yoshino's waist and held him up, bending his back heavily, and stirred his lotion-soaked wet insides mercilessly.

 “Ahhngh, ahh, no……ngh”  

While greedily gouging out the tangled mucous membranes, I drilled into the back again and again. When I sent my hip into the right place, Yoshino gasped as if to cry. That voice and expression further fueled Hatori. Hatori threw off his self-control and thrust up Yoshino in his lust.

 “Agh,ahh,ahhng,aah!”  

 At first, Yoshino was at my mercy, but gradually he started to move. It was unintentional, and probably unconscious. It was a pleasure that flew off all reasons, and he was trying to get more of it. Even if it was an act of instinct, it didn’t change what the expectation was.

 What Yoshino wanted, I just gave him exactly that

 (--------I’m really sly/cunning)  

 Every time I hold Yoshino like this, I felt indescribable elation and guilt.

All Yoshino must have had for Hatori, until the later revealed his hidden lust, were the feelings of comfort, friendship, and trust of a childhood friend. There might have been some sort of monopoly, but it probably wasn't that of love. I dragged Yoshino to this side, imposed my not-so-pretty desires on him, and instilled lust.

Even if Yoshino had had such experience, it was with the opposite sex and he was not in the receiving position. As a man, there must have been some confusion for him. Nevertheless, it was thanks to his generosity that he had accepted the position of being embraced on the receiving end.

He might not be aware of it himself, but Yoshino was the one who had the gut when the time came. Hatori's prudence was a mask to hide his mean, negative and cowardly self.

 “Ah! Not there, no, aghn, ah, aghn!”

 "Can't you say anything other than denial once in a while?"

 “Sh-shut up…..nghh”

 When I pointed out his lack of vocabulary, he glared at me with moist eyes. He usually had a face that didn’t seem to have anything to do with sexual things. But when he was embraced, he had such a face, so I couldn’t stand it. As I repeatedly thrust into the back, the connected part became loose. At that moment, I pulled myself out as much as I could and pushed it in.

 “Aaahhh……ngh”

With each extraction, the voice that spilled out became sweeter and sweeter. As I continued to gouge out the tightly-clung inner walls, Yoshino's face became distorted with pleasure.

 “You like it here right?”

“Yes, it feels good……nghh”  (T/N: Alternative: I like it. It feels good)

The reason why I deliberately asked the question when reason had failed was because I could hear an honest answer now.

 “Here?”  

 “Ughahh, ah,ah, ah….ngh”

 Yoshino, who was writhing and gasping, was driven even harder. When he squirmed and swayed, the thin body slid up on the bed.  

 “No, nghh, agnh, ah, ah……!”

Vigorously pulling his hips closer and thrusting even deeper. Yoshino also tangled his legs around Hatori's waist and clung to his back.  His lips came close to mine as if a pleading from Yoshino. Biting and kissing, I devoured on the impulse/urge.

 “Nn,n,n,nn……ngh”

 As I rocked my hips with our bodies close together, Yoshino's erection, which was overflowing with semen, rubbed against my abdomen. It seemed that the limit was already in sight.

When I parted my lips, there was a face right there that looked like it was about to burst into tears.

 “Tori……ngh, already, I’m coming, please……nghh”

In the blink of an eye, a single tear fell from Yoshino's eyes. I thought I'd tease him more, but I changed my mind on that expression.

“I know”

 Immediately, I increased the pace and caught up with Yoshino.  

 “Ahh, ahh, ah……ngh”  

 “-------Chiaki”

 “AH-----!?”

After an intense urging, they came almost simultaneously. Yoshino's lower abdomen quivered intermittently, overflowing with white turbidity.

 “Ah, nn……ngh”

 Then, after Hatori poured all the proof of his desire into Yoshino, he also pulled himself out. We remained silent, waiting for the heat to recede from our bodies. As I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasant exhaustion, Yoshino opened his mouth with rough breathing.

“……I've been meaning to tell you this for a while”

“Hm?”

“It’s foul play to call my name like that!”

Yoshino caught his breath, then paused, and grudgingly complained in Hatori's ear.

Personal notes: Hatori’s monologue is so sad omgg...the scene is like both sexy and hurt at the same time...what a writer

#Yoshino Chiaki #Hatori Yoshiyuki #Sih Domestica #I love them so much #SIH #sekaiichi hatsukoi

[shaorankun]

Guardian Chapter 86 Translation (Guo Changcheng and Chu Shuzhi’s part)

I am currently reading Guardian (鎮魂) and when I got to Chapter 86 in the fan translation (I prefer reading in English) they did not translate this entire part. I only did a light google and didn’t find a proper translation for this so I decided to just complete it myself. I didn’t want to read the rest of the story with a chunk missing, haha. Sharing my labour here for anyone else who might be wanting to read this missing part. I didn’t know where to post this so tumblr it is...

(credit: I’m using the same title from the fan translation I’m reading)

Chapter 86: The Paper-white Face of The Young Ghost King Reflected All of His Desires, Saying Frankly, “Good-looking. I want to hold you.”

Chu Shuzhi did not think that when he returned to Dragon City the first person he would see was Guo Changcheng.

He was just released from his shackles and got back his past items that were forcibly taken by Hell. He was in a good mood. Taking advantage of the Chinese New Year break, he found a wild mass grave1 and retreated for a few days. It wasn’t until he received Wang Zheng’s message that Zhu Hong was planning on resigning that he hurriedly bought a train ticket and rushed back to Dragon City.

The crowd at the train station was bustling. Chu Shuzhi walked forward for a while, looking in all directions for a taxi, and saw Guo Changcheng’s familiar figure—the young man was carrying a huge woven bag, his body was almost curled into a ball2 and he was slowly wiggling about with difficulty.

Just by looking at Guo Changcheng you could tell he did not do much physical work. When he went to school he probably had mediocre grades in Physical Education too. Carrying a big bag, he looked like a snail carrying a heavy shell. People passing by couldn’t help but turn and look at this young man.

Chu Shuzhi was worried he recognized the wrong person at first. Glancing again, he stared at what should have be a sturdy nylon bag open up with a small gap. A lady selling corn at the roadside kindly warned, “Hey, young man, your bag is going to spill!”

Guo Changcheng turned to the voice, but probably because his things were too heavy, when he turned his body he didn’t pay attention to his feet and he stumbled into a luggage being pulled by a young lady who just happened to pass by. Guo Changcheng was flustered and before he could apologize, the young man next to the lady aggressively pushed him. “Watch it, where are you stepping?”

Guo Changcheng was already not standing steadily and once he stumbled, the ‘city wall’ behind his back rumbled and fell. The bottom of the nylon woven bag broke apart and a bunch of outrageous items noisily fell out, including pots, pans, plates and plastic bags of food and clothing. The weirdest thing was that there was also an approximately sixty centimeters in diameter and eight centimeters thick large wooden cutting board—he was basically carrying a mini Walmart.

The young man who pushed him probably just stepped from person to person to fight out a path through the crowded train station. Seeing Guo Changcheng wearing dusty old clothes, he regarded him as a migrant worker returning to the city, and was suddenly disgusted and inexplicably felt a sense of unspeakable superiority. With one hand he was pulling the lady next to him to leave and at the same time complaining, “Knowing there’d be a lot of people and still bringing so much stuff. Are you an idiot? Can you afford to pay for damaging this luggage?”

Guo Changcheng repeatedly apologized. Seeing all the items had fallen on the ground, almost looking stupid, he hurriedly crouched down to pick them up. As he saw the nylon woven bag spill from both ends, he was at a loss and helplessly grabbed his own hair, worried.

It was at that moment that a somewhat skinny hand reached over and easily took both ends of the nylon bag and made a dead knot, making it into the shape of a cloth bag, then placed the junk in the middle of it. Weighing downwards, it looked the same as holding a SpongeBob. With one hand he was able to wrap up the pieces of heavy items.

Guo Changcheng: “Chu Ge3!”

If he had a tail, his wagging could’ve been used as an electric fan. He suddenly forgot that the one standing in front of him was The Zombie Corpse King—in Guo Changcheng’s view, Chu Shuzhi was practically a saviour who fell from the sky.

Chu Shuzhi ignored him. While holding the large nylon bag with one hand, he turned towards the young man who hadn’t gone too far, and with not a good look on his face he said, “The one in front, I advise you roll back here and apologize.”

Usually when Chu Shuzhi was normal it was fine, but when his face sunk he was particularly scary, almost naturally wearing a hint of the vicious gloom of a fugitive. The young man who was just fierce looked at him, appearing fierce but was weak inside, and said, “What else do you want?”

Just as Chu Shuzhi was about to walk towards him, Guo Changcheng held onto him. “Chu Ge, Chu Ge let’s go. It was I who didn’t see just now. I’m sorry.”

Uneasy, he raised his eyes to the other and smiled, holding onto Chu Shuzhi’s cold hand. “My fault, my fault.”

The two in front cussed as they left, completely unaware that they just escaped a crisis.

Chu Shuzhi turned around and looked at Guo Changcheng and thought that not only was he so much of a saint that he was an idiot4, he was pretty much messed up in the brain. To be at this stage of no temper and no courage, even if one didn’t say he didn’t seem like a young and vigorous man, he simply didn’t even seem like a person.

Chu Shuzhi irritably broke away from his hand and pointed at the bag of groceries in his own hand. “Does your family have nothing to eat, that they’re making you spend the New Year selling groceries?”

“No, I’m helping someone deliver this. I didn’t expect the bag to suddenly break.” Guo Changcheng eagerly followed him but also felt rather embarrassed. “I, I, let me carry it, it’s not much further.”

Chu Shuzhi impatiently avoided his hand and frowned. “Lead the way.”

Guo Changcheng immediately was too scared to utter a sound and walked ahead in small steps, leading the way.

Passing by the street in front of the station, they made multiple turns and entered a small alley. They arrived at a shadowed zone of the bustling city. Inside the alley was a row of dilapidated single-story houses. Walking deep inside, a female student with a ponytail was standing at a door, sweeping the floor with a broom. When she saw Guo Changcheng she very happily greeted him, exposing the college break volunteer sign around her neck.

Guo Changcheng felt a little embarrassed when seeing the girl and unnaturally lowered his head. Sounding like a mosquito, he buzzed, “Hello.”

The young lady was not inattentive and seeing Chu Shuzhi holding a big bag, she immediately dropped the broom and helped him open the door. As she walked she asked Guo Changcheng, “Have you registered them? Did you print it out? We have to express gratitude to each person on the internet.”

Guo Changcheng, this boy, he was very slow when he did things and he wasn’t clever. At the unit the always-rushing-them-Zhao would get angry and directly scold him. But in the end when he finished, it was always done very earnestly and meticulously. The reports written, no matter how long or how important or how much paper was wasted, never had a single typo. Slowly, even their nitpicky leader couldn’t say anything.

Guo Changcheng promptly nodded and took out a pile of printed paper from his bag. In total there were seven to eight pages. On them were detailed records of who donated, what was donated, the donor’s contact address, phone number, internet name, e-mail and other information. The value of the donated items varied from Chinese Yuan5 to a Chinese cabbage. It was simply odd and by no means an isolated case.

It turns out this was led by a few of Dragon City’s universities. They were taking advantage of the winter break and came together with some social service groups to organize and create this volunteer operation called “For the Old, For the Young6”. On Guo Changcheng’s side, they specialized in targeting the elderly at the lowest rung of society who, due to various reasons, lost their ability to make a livelihood. In small groups, each were responsible for the long-term care for a set of elderlies.

Because Guo Changcheng was unable to communicate with people, he was unable to take the responsibility of relieving the boredom of the elderly so he ended up with the job of collecting donations from society. Fortunately, the volunteer team had more girls so he was able to help greatly with some physical tasks, using this break to act as a porter.

Chu Shuzhi helped them place the objects down. As it was along the way, he started Guo Changcheng’s car and brought him along to No. 4 Bright Avenue. Guo Changcheng’s palms were damaged by the rubbing of the nylon bag; he sat at the passenger seat quietly and used a wet towel to wipe it.

Since it was rare for Chu Shuzhi to be in the mood to talk, he said a few words to him. “You’re still caring about anyone, are you trying to deliver all living creatures from difficulty?”

Guo Changcheng widened a pair of ignorant eyes and looked at him with astonishment.

Chu Shuzhi changed the question. “Doing this kind of stuff, does your family know?”

Guo Changcheng silently shook his head.

Chu Shuzhi incomprehensively laughed. Then he said, “Then on New Year’s Day did you burn some incense? The way you are, your wishes would easily come true.”

Guo Changcheng shook his head again. He was extremely satisfied with his current life. Apart from his family and friends being safe and healthy, there was nothing else he’d ask for—right now his family and friends seemed safe and healthy so he thought it was better to not trouble Buddha.

Chu Shuzhi took advantage of the traffic light and tilted his head to glance at him. Guo Changcheng was not tall, not strong and also not handsome. His facial features could not be said to be good looking. He was usually very low-key and didn’t own even a single brand name piece of whatever common youngsters thought was popular. Basically you would be unable to find his type in a crowd of people. Because there was always a lack of confidence, there was absolutely never any class.

However, when he sat down and quietly didn’t say anything, his calm expression revealed something unspeakable, natural Zen.

Although Guo Changcheng was a mortal, wine and meat passing his intestines every day, he didn’t understand what practicing spiritual development was, he didn’t even understand all the words in scriptures, and all of the Buddhist Arhats in the entire world were only known through the popular TV show Journey to the West where he only recognized two of them: one Guanyin, one Tathagata. Due to a problem with the actors, even now there was doubt towards the gender.

But Chu Shuzhi could sense that he was acting without regard for others and was peacefully and quietly building something.

It was neither the well-being of this life nor the virtue of the next life.

With Chu Shuzhi’s eyesight and cultivation, he only hazily had a feeling. As for what it was specifically, he couldn’t clearly tell.

Despite Chu Shuzhi not understanding what Guo Changcheng was thinking when doing these things, it didn’t stop the sudden uncomfortable feeling in his heart. There seemed to be a bit of resentment and dissatisfaction.

Even without mentioning anything else, with this child being covered from head to toe in three chi7 thick of virtue, shouldn’t he be living a peaceful and happy life? Why was it that he was born with an unlucky fate? Although everyone knew The Book of Life and Death regarded merits and demerits as very much nonsense, yet didn’t Hell use it rather brazenly?

He stopped speaking. His fanboy Guo Changcheng also didn’t have the courage to actively bring up any topics. The two of them remained silent all the way to No. 4 Bright Avenue. The curtain of night had already descended and all human and ghosts were present.

Once Chu Shuzhi entered the Criminal Investigations division, what came into view first was a group of demon and ghosts with a pair of blank eyes, as if they were collectively hit by a lightning strike.

Before he could even ask what was going on, he saw Wang Zheng turn her head over, trembling as she asked, “Chu Ge, did you know of the matter that Teacher Shen… Shen Wei, was really the Ghost Slayer?”

Chu Shuzhi froze for a bit. After a while, he calmly said, “Oh, that moron Zhao Yunlan, what is he doing that he didn’t come? Where is he? Ran away after messing things up?”

Da Qing was on the side and meowed, “He plunged into Wang Chuan waters.”

Chu Shuzhi: “……Love problems? Suicide?”

Da Qing and Zhu Hong had gotten over the initial shock and already calmed down.

Zhu Hong knew that Zhao Yunlan had on him the Water Dragon Pearl and any place that had water would not be able to harm him. She had just placed the Water Dragon Pearl around Zhao Yunlan’s neck and it was already being used. Zhu Hong felt that if she was a little more suspicious, it would feel like her Snake Uncle Four already knew of something beforehand.

Zhu Hong said, “My guess is that he’s looking for the Ghost Slayer.”

Chu Shuzhi took a quick look and saw that other than Lin Jing, who was still out in the field and already said he’d be taking the midnight train, the No. 4 Bright Avenue members were already all present. With both hands in his pocket, he leaned back against the office door. “I think, let’s have everyone talk about what they separately know. It’s been a mess recently. Let’s focus on the information and figure out what’s really happening. What to do—”

Speaking until here, Chu Shuzhi’s voice suddenly paused, his complexion suddenly didn’t look too good. This made everyone very nervous: “What did Chu Ge think of?”

“Wait, Shen Wei is the Ghost Slayer?” Chu Shuzhi’s face turned green. After a while he muttered, “Fuck I’ve messed up. I’ve teased him so many times before!”

……That’s why they sometimes say that being super calm was just your reflex arc taking too long.

---

野墳坡亂葬崗 [Yě fén pō luàn zàng gǎng] - Not really sure how to translate this. My best guess is it’s a random unmaintained grave. Probably some area with lots of dead bodies like after a war or something.

His body almost bent into a period. A period in Chinese looks like a hollow circle: 。

哥 [Gē] – Brother

Here Chu Ge was thinking that Guo Changcheng ‘Holy Mothered to idiocy’, he holy mothered so much he became ill. Holy mother being The Holy Mother; The Virgin Mary or a goddess.

人民币 [Rén ​mín ​bì] – Renminbi; China’s currency. Yuan is the unit. ‘Chinese Yuan’ is used in international contexts to refer to renminbi.

The name is 老吾老、幼吾幼 [lǎo wú lǎo, yòu wú yòu] – This probably comes from the phrase “老吾老，以及人之老，幼吾幼，以及人之幼” (lǎo wú lǎo , yǐ jí rén zhī lǎo , yòu wú yòu , yǐ jí rén zhī yòu) meaning to honour the elderly as we do our own aged parents and to take care of other’s children as if our own.

尺 [chǐ] – (unit) Chinese foot. It is 1/3 of a meter.

The rest of the chapter can be found here.

#guardian #novel translation #鎮魂 #镇魂 #zhen hun #guo changcheng #chu shuzhi

[alj4890]

A Second Chance

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

A/N Weeks have gone by. The paternity results are in and Thomas has now taken Amanda to his attorney’s office to finish changing Kathleen’s last name to Hunt along with making her the heir to his fortune. He decides to take a chance and asks Amanda to go out to dinner. Just the two of them.

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Masterlist

Catch up here with Chapter 5

Chapter 6

"And sign here." Myles pointed toward the necessary spaces.

Thomas finished signing his name then passed it to Amanda.

She signed under his name.

The attorney leaned back in his chair and explained the new will and trust Thomas had created for Kathleen.

Thomas half listened as he thought of what the last few weeks in California had been like. Having Kathleen and Amanda living in his home had been eye opening. Uninterrupted time with his daughter had strengthened the bond between them.

Once Kathleen had chosen her bedroom; he had removed all the furniture and taken her shopping. Amanda had gone along, smiling often at the two of them as they debated possible furniture and décor. He bought everything that Kathleen liked. He even strung twinkle lights across the ceiling, replaced the simple drapes with ruffled pink curtains, and bought a menagerie of stuffed animals to fill it with. Her first night with all her new things had been one of celebration.

She asked if the three of them could have dinner in there and then watch a movie.

Thomas never thought the day would come where he would be sitting in a pillow fort, eating Chinese takeout, and watching Tangled. Yet here he was loving every moment.

His gaze cut to Amanda as Myles handed her the paperwork with Thomas now legally Kathleen's father. Once the paternity test had come back revealing she was his, he had pushed his lawyer to get her last name and his will changed as quickly as possible.

Amanda had been supportive of his decision. Kathleen was thrilled that she now had his name and practiced writing it out on the little chalkboard he had bought her.

The only thing that could make this better for Thomas would be if Amanda's last name was also legally changed to his.

Living with her had shown him how deeply in love he was. When Kathleen went to bed at night, he would entice Amanda to remain with him to either watch a movie or go for a swim.

He used those moments to find out all he could about her without pushing her into a romantic relationship.

He wanted her. His desire for her had only grown stronger. He did not want one night with her. He wanted the rest of her life.

He wanted to marry her. Finally have her as his.

Finally have his family.

He suspected she might feel something for him. He would catch her looking at him, almost like she did all those years ago when they were dating.

Yet there was something else there in her eyes. Her smile was warmer each time he did something sweet for her or Kathleen.

She had become more relaxed around him. Amanda had stopped shying away from touching him. There had been a few times as they watched Kathleen playing or coloring that she would quietly slip her arm around his waist.

But he wanted more. These sweet in between moments could be the norm while they took the next step. He knew how affectionate she was when in love. Thomas intended to have it all for himself.

He just did not know how to broach the subject.

"And that's it." Myles said.

Thomas blinked and refocused. "Everything's set?"

"It is." He smiled at the two. "Ms. Hunt will have no financial worries." He glanced at his watch and apologized for having to rush out to another meeting. He told them to call if any other concerns came to mind.

Amanda reached across the table for Thomas's hand. He turned to her once Myles left the conference room.

"Thank you for this." She said, rubbing her thumb over the top of his hand. "It isn't the money, but knowing that in the eyes of the world, Kathleen is your daughter."

He gripped her hand. "I know you say that you don't need child support, but I would like to have a part in caring for her, paying for whatever she needs."

"I understand." She let go of his hand and stood up. "Shall we?"

He stood up and took her hand again as she passed by, tugging her close. Her eyebrow lifted in question.

"How would you like to go to dinner tonight?" He asked.

"My schedule is so busy," she teased, "I'm not sure if I can join you and Kathleen this evening."

He smiled. "I meant just us." He lowered his eyes to their clasped hands. "It's been a long time since you and I went out. I'm sure Rachel and Stephen will watch Kathleen."

Amanda laughed at the thought. When Thomas had told his sister about Kathleen being in his home, she and her husband Stephen had shown up that very night.

Unlike Holly and Addison, Rachel had understood why Amanda had kept Kathleen a secret from all of them that were close to Thomas.

"You were wise not to trust us to keep our mouths closed." Rachel said one night. "We all would have flayed him alive with our tempers." She then added that if they had been told though, the misunderstandings could have been rectified so much sooner.

She and Stephen immediately fell under Kathleen's spell. The little girl in turn adored the two that were her new relatives. They took her out every day for special aunt/uncle/niece time. In other words, they spoiled her every chance they got.

Holly and Addison, along with Matt and Ryan, also accepted the little girl as their own. They could hardly get over the fact that Thomas was not only a father but that he had eased into the role without any difficulty.

The four along with Rachel and Stephen watched the family of three closely, especially Thomas and Amanda. They knew how he had pined for years for the duchess. Now that the two had a reason to see each other on a regular basis, the group wanted to see them together as they should be: a couple.

"How about it?" Thomas repeated. "A night out without a children's menu?"

She laughed and shook her head at the menu joke. "That sounds nice."

"I'm taking that as a yes." He put his hand at her back and guided her toward the elevators. "I'll make the reservations and pick you up around seven."

"Pick me up?" She teased. "My, we really are going all out with this dinner."

Thomas couldn't quite contain his smile. "It isn't every night I get to have you to myself."

Amanda felt her heart triple in beat. Did he mean that in a romantic sense or a platonic one? He probably only wanted a night out as an adult and was merely offering her the same as a friendly gesture.

As much as she tried to deny it, she felt that old love for him stirring to life more and more as time went on. His obvious love and care for Kathleen touched her aching heart in ways she had not anticipated.

She loved seeing him so uncertain yet trying to make his home special for their daughter. Seeing him agree to every little whim Kathleen had, made her smile at the sheer sweetness.

Then the little things he did for Amanda made her fall even more in love. He remembered things from their past that astounded her. He surprised her one evening with her favorite meal from a local Mexican restaurant. He had all her favorite classic movies on hand, explaining to Kathleen how he had developed a new love of many of them due to her mother. He had restocked his pantry with her English Breakfast tea bags and brown sugar cubes. Every gesture chipped away at the wall she had erected around her heart.

Their conversations at night caused a longing in her that life could be like this. Being with him while their child was tucked safe and content in her bed, it was her old dream, the very one she had tried to forget.

How could she though when he was all that she had ever wanted?

**************

"Which do you think?" Thomas held up two blazers.

Kathleen tilted her head as she studied the navy blue and then the charcoal gray. She was sitting in the middle of his bed amid a variety of dress shirts. "I like that one." She pointed at the gray. "And I like this shirt." She held up the black.

"Perfect." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You have quite the eye for color coordination."

"I have two." She scrunched her shoulders with a giggle.

"I am very grateful for that." He replied with a smile. "Now then, anything else you can think of that I should do to make the night special for your mother?"

Kathleen propped her head on her hand as she thought. "Flowers. Mommy loved the ones you brought for my birthday."

"I can't believe I forgot about that." He muttered. He made a quick phone call and ordered a bouquet of tulips. "Anything else?"

Her little brow furrowed in thought. "Uncle Max said that she loves to dance but she doesn't do it anymore."

"Then I suppose it is up to me to remedy that." He wrote that idea down. "You have been a tremendous help."

Kathleen plucked at his bedspread. "Daddy?"

"Hmm?" He went into his closet to choose a tie.

"I'm a Hunt and you're a Hunt." She squirmed a little. "But Mommy's not."

He paused in his search. "No, she isn't." He saw the unhappiness on her little face and went to her. "What's wrong?"

"Mommy isn't part of the family." She whispered with a sniff.

He knelt beside his bed and took her hands in his. "Yes, she is."

"But she's still a Bridgerton." Kathleen pointed out. "Can't she be a Hunt too?"

"She can." He replied. "I plan on doing all I can to make her want to be one." He smoothed her hair out of her eyes. "It is up to her if and when she wants to change her last name."

Her eyes widened. “Are you going to marry her?”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. “Whatever your mother wants, I am going to do.” He held his daughter’s hands. “As soon as the moment is right, I will ask your mother to marry me.”

"So, we can be a family?" Kathleen asked excitedly.

"We are a family." He stressed once more. "We simply are one with two different last names at the moment." He picked her up and hugged her tight. "Why don't you go choose some movies to watch with Aunt Rachel and Uncle Stephen? I need to start getting ready."

"Okay." She hugged him once more then skipped out of his room.

***************

Stephen let out a low whistle when Thomas came downstairs.

He glared at his sister and brother-in-law when they let out a couple of catcalls. "Where's Kathleen?"

"In the kitchen with Amanda." Rachel grinned when he immediately went in that direction.

He paused in the kitchen doorway and watched the two.

Kathleen was sitting on the counter, giggling while Amanda spoke with a funny accent.

"These cookies are mine! No one else shall have them." Amanda pretended to sneak away with the tray she had removed from the oven.

"Mommy!" Kathleen gasped between her laughter.

Amanda turned around and brought them back over. Her own smile was bright at hearing her daughter's sweet laugh. "Be sure to share with Aunt Rachel and Uncle Stephen."

"I will." She promised. Kathleen looked up and called out to Thomas. "Do you want a cookie, Daddy?"

"No thank you." He joined them and helped lift Kathleen off the counter.

Amanda paused halfway in placing the cookies on a plate. Her eyes drifted down Thomas in his dark gray suit and black dress shirt. His tan skin and jet-black hair seemed even more noticeable...even more handsome. "You look nice."

He smiled softly as his eyes touched on her figure. "Thank you. I've always thought you looked beautiful in red."

Amanda nervously smoothed her short skirt. "Thank you."

She handed the plate to Kathleen and watched her carefully carry it into the living room.

Thomas stepped closer to Amanda. "I've been looking forward to tonight."

She finished wiping her hands while a smile played about her lips. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Are you ready to go?"

She looked down at herself. "I think so, unless you think I should wear something else?"

"You look perfect." He took her hand and pulled her along behind him.

Kathleen was snuggled between Rachel and Stephen on the couch. She waved  goodbye to them while eating a cookie.

"Have a good time." Rachel told them as she walked them to the door. "And don't hurry home."

************

71Above, Los Angeles...

"I forgot how much attention you draw when out." Amanda teased when they were seated at their table.

He frowned slightly at the people whispering and pointing. "So did I. I don't know why they do so."

She chuckled and picked up her menu. "It couldn't have anything to do with your handsome looks or immense talent."

He shook his head in exasperation and turned his attention back to her. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"We can if you wish." She said. "I can ignore them."

His eyes touched on how she looked in the soft light reflected from L.A.'s skyline. He was not quite ready to abandon the romantic restaurant because of a few nosy patrons. "I can ignore them too."

Her smile was warm as she lowered her eyes.

Thomas set out to charm her. Every story, every bit of flirty teasing, every brush of his fingers against her hand; it all had one purpose. He wanted her to fall in love with him again.

Amanda's cheeks were a touch pink under his steady gaze. She would often lower her lashes while smiling with his flirting. He had forgotten how those mannerisms used to encourage his attempts in romancing her.

He began to feel confident in his efforts with her leaving her hand in his and the almost permanent smile on her face. Once dinner was over, he took her to the next planned part of their evening.

"Aren't we going home?" Amanda asked when he drove on into the city.

"Kathleen shared an observation with me." He answered. "I thought it was time to try again."

Amanda lifted an eyebrow at his attempt at being mysterious. "Care to share what that observation was?"

"I think I'd rather leave it a surprise." He chuckled when she groaned.

"I think you've forgotten how little I like surprises." She huffed while folding her arms.

"I haven't forgotten." He told her.

"Ah, so you've resorted to torture now on your evenings out." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "Shame on you, Mr. Hunt."

Thomas couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face at her teasing. It was reminiscent of how things once had been between them. He missed having that. She was one if not the only one that brought out that playful side of his personality.

"A night club?" Amanda said in disbelief when he parked the car. "This is what Kathleen suggested?"

"She merely shared that Maxwell had told her how much you loved to dance and that you haven't done so in a very long time." He explained.

Her brow furrowed with that observation. "I don't think I've been dancing since that trip you and I took to Cabo."

He paused as memories of that vacation came to mind. That was a month or two before they-- "Amanda? Was Kathleen conceived during that trip?"

Her eyes widened as she quickly did the math. "She must have been! We were there at the end of December and I had her in September."

He placed his arm around her waist. He remembered that trip well. It had been a series of one romantic moment after another. Knowing that Kathleen was created during such a time made it seem all the more significant.

"What are you thinking about?" Amanda asked when he remained silent.

Thomas lowered his eyes to her. "That night we spent on the yacht in Cabo."

She didn't know how to respond. That night was one that she had never been able to forget. It had been one of the most romantic of her life. One of the most passionate.

He pulled her closer to his side once they were in the club. The place was crowded, and music blared from the speakers. They both cringed from the strobe light and the vibrations from the bass.

Amanda rose on her toes to speak in his ear. "Let's get out of here."

He began to shake his head, determined to take her dancing.

She laced her fingers with his and pulled him out of the building.

"Amanda, I don't mind--"

"I think I've outgrown the club scene." She explained. Her smile was warm as she stepped closer, raising her hands to his crooked tie. "I prefer being out with you in places where I can actually hear what you say."

His lips curved softly. He set his hands on her waist as she worked on his tie, tempted to pull her flush to his body. "So do I." He took her hand and led her back to his car. "One more place to go that I think might make up for this."

"Thomas, there isn't any need to--" her breath caught when he placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her between him and the car. Amanda lifted her eyes to his, wondering what he was going to do. Hoping he might...she stopped thinking. "You have already given me a wonderful night out."

He leaned closer to her. "I want this night to be special."

She swallowed and tried to keep from focusing on his mouth. "It has been."

He stepped away from her and opened her door. "If you don't care for our last stop then I will take you home."

She almost reached out to pull him back to her. "Okay."

He smiled a touch proudly when he heard the slight intake of her breath once more. He got in on his side of the car and drove off.

A short time later they were walking along the docks.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with our remembering Cabo, would it?" She teased when they stood before his yacht.

"I actually had this planned before that memory was brought to mind." He helped her aboard and followed after her.

He opened the door to the main saloon.

Her lips parted in surprise. A bouquet of tulips sat beside a bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket on a table near the couch. A glass covered tray was set on another end table holding various desserts.

"Someone is going to a great deal of trouble." She teased when soft music drifted through the surround sound speakers.

He pulled her into a slow dance. "This? No trouble at all."

She rested her cheek on his shoulder as he swayed with her to the beat. Amanda closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to drop all the cautious barriers she had placed around her heart so that she could enjoy being in his arms once more.

Thomas set her other hand on his shoulder and wrapped both his arms around her. When she raised her head, their eyes met before lowering to the other's lips.

He waited on her to make the first move. He needed her to be the one to make the decision on giving him a second chance. He briefly closed his eyes when her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Their bodies were brushing against the other's as the tension built between the few inches that separated their parted lips.

She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Thank you for taking me out." A self-depreciating smile formed. "I haven't had a night out on the town in a very long time."

"Thank you for accepting." He murmured, keeping his gaze on her mouth.

She tried to ignore the need to kiss him. Ignore the need to see if it was like it once had been. Feel that electric tingle across her skin.

She knew it was foolish to play with this type of fire. She had resolved to never again take a chance on love. Kathleen was to never suffer from her decisions.

Amanda had vowed to be single for the rest of her life the week after Kathleen's birth. She knew she could never have some man have a say in her daughter’s upbringing.

But Thomas was not some random man. He was the father of her child. He was innocent of all the previously thought wrongdoings.

He was here, right where she had once hoped he would be. Thomas was showing her the type of attention she had once craved so long ago.

What if she gave in to his wish and tried a romantic relationship again? What if it ended horribly?

What if it didn't?

She hesitated and lifted her eyes to his.

Thomas saw all her vulnerable uncertainty in the hazel depths. He knew he should stick to his plan and admit he was more in love with her than he had ever been once they were in Cordonia. He believed he needed her to see how he could fit into her life there as well as anywhere else.

But he did not think he could wait any longer.

"I'm in lo--" his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his coat’s interior pocket. "It's Rachel."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Kathleen? Do you think she's--"

Thomas quickly answered.

"We need you to come home." Stephen explained. "Kathleen became sick and has been crying for Amanda."

She snatched the phone out of Thomas's hand. "What happened?"

"She was fine, playing, then complained about her stomach hurting. Next thing we knew, she ran to the bathroom and threw up." Stephen's voice sounded strained. "She began to cry which caused her to throw up again."

"I'm on my way." Amanda swiftly left the saloon and hurried off the yacht.

Thomas chased after her. "Amanda, wait a mo--"

"I don't have a moment!" Amanda snapped. Her stiletto heel got stuck in one of the slits on the dock. Her foot came completely out of her shoe.

Thomas knelt and pried it loose, slipping it back on her foot. "Everything is going to be fine."

"My daughter is sick." Amanda said in a disapproving tone. "I shouldn't have gone out."

"She probably ate too many cookies." Thomas tried to make her see reason.

"I don't care what caused it." Amanda cursed when she stumbled over another plank.

Thomas caught her before she hit the dock and pulled her close. He gently tilted her chin up. "I will get us home as fast as I can."

Her frown eased. "Thank you." She held onto his arm as they made their way off the dock.

***************

Amanda hurried upstairs as Rachel told all that had happened.

"I gave her another bath." Rachel followed closely at her heels. "She threw up all over her pajamas when she started crying."

"Poor angel." Amanda mumbled. She stepped into Kathleen's bedroom and went straight to her bed.

"Mommy." Kathleen reached out for her.

Amanda sat down beside her and held her close. "Shh, it's okay." She gently rubbed her back. "I'm here." She thanked Rachel for taking care of her.

Thomas paused in the doorway as his sister left the room. "Is there anything I can do?"

"She will need some electrolytes. Anything like Gatorade or Pedialyte." Amanda replied. "And possibly some popsicles."

“Orange.” Kathleen mumbled as she curled up in her mother’s lap. “I only like orange ones to drink.”

“Orange electrolytes and cherry popsicles.” Amanda told him.

“I’ll take care of it.” Thomas promised. He quickly left the room and told his sister where he was going.

“We’ll go for you.” Stephen offered. “That way you can help if Amanda needs anything.”

Thomas thanked them. He wrote down what Kathleen liked and gave them money. They ignored his money and took the list, leaving him uncertain with what he should do now.

************

Once he was gone, Amanda settled Kathleen back in her bed. She remained sitting beside her daughter with her back to the headboard.

Kathleen moved her head to Amanda's lap. "Will you sing the song?"

Her mother's lips curved softly as she gently ran her fingers through Kathleen's hair. "Of course."

Thomas paused in the hallway when he heard Amanda singing. He recalled that she was not known by friends and loved ones for having a good singing voice. But something about this particular song and the way she kept her voice low seemed soothing. He quietly approached the bedroom and watched the two.

Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my gal and I ain't together

Keeps raining all the time

Life is bare. Gloom and misery everywhere

Stormy weather

Just can't get my poor self together

I'm weary all the time, the time

So weary all the time

Kathleen had a smile on her face as her eyes drooped closed. Her favorite part of the song was coming up.

When she went away the blues walked in and met me

If she stays away, that old rockin' chair gonna get me

All I do is pray the Lord above will let me

Walk in the sun once more,

Can't go on, everything is gone

Stormy weather

Since my gal and I ain't together

Keeps rainin' all the time

Keeps rainin' all the time

Kathleen yawned and snuggled closer. Thomas stepped in when Amanda paused in singing. He quietly told her that Rachel and Stephen went shopping for them. He then went into Kathleen’s bathroom and retrieved a cool, damp rag when Amanda asked him to get one.

She gently placed the rag on Kathleen's forehead, still humming Stormy Weather.

Thomas sat down in a padded rocker, observing the two.

Amanda carefully moved Kathleen to her pillow once she was asleep.

He followed her out of the bedroom and across the hallway to her room. "Is there anything else we need to do?"

"I'm going to change clothes and sit up with her for a few more hours." Amanda explained, stepping inside her room. She hesitated then looked up at him. "Feel free to get some rest. I'm used to doing this on my own whenever she is ill."

His lips firmed in a slight frown when she gathered some comfortable clothes and went into the bathroom to change. He loosened his tie and went to his own bedroom.

Amanda returned to Kathleen's room and rewet the rag, placing it back on her head.

She sat down once more on the bed and hummed when Kathleen moved restlessly and whimpered.

Thomas returned in a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt. He took his spot in the rocker once more.

"You don't have to be here." Amanda whispered, surprised to see him again.

"Yes, I do." He whispered back. "I have to be here for you." He paused. "Both of you."

She lowered her eyes and resumed gently running her fingers through her daughter's hair in soothing repetitions.

"Why Stormy Weather?" He asked softly.

Amanda's lips turned up in a smile. "I listened to Frank Sinatra albums throughout most of my pregnancy. One night, a month after Kathleen's birth, she cried for hours, fighting sleep. I tried everything to calm her down. Eventually, pacing and singing his rendition of Stormy Weather helped her fall asleep. It worked each time after that, and she now claims it as the song. She usually likes it sung whenever she is sick."

Thomas softly chuckled. "She would appreciate the classics."

Amanda nodded, laughing. "She loves his singing."

His smile was tender. "She got that from you. If I remember correctly, you once said you would have had a hard time not melting if you had been one of the women in the movies he sung to."

Amanda shook her head at her own foolishness. "I was born in the wrong time period."

He stood up and stretched. "Let's sit over there." He whispered when he noticed her shift, trying to get comfortable on the small bed.

Amanda followed him over to the loveseat that Kathleen had chosen for her movie corner in her room. They sat down and remained quiet as they watched Kathleen sleep.

He set his arm along the back of the couch and urged Amanda closer. She glanced down when his other hand held hers and felt that old stirring of memories. There had been a number of times when she was taking care of Kathleen that she had wished he had been there comforting her as she worried over every little thing.

She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a calmness come over her just by having him by her side.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there.

After an hour, she fell asleep, turning more in his arms. He repositioned her and held her close. Thomas covered the two of them with one of the fuzzy blankets that was nearby.

He lowered his head to kiss the top of hers once more. He closed his eyes, feeling grateful to have her in his arms again. Though it wasn't quite how he had wished the night would end, Thomas hoped it would lead to an even closer relationship with Amanda.

#Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #choices thomas hunt #a second chance #choices RCD

[ecto-american]

White and Nerdy

Holiday Truce Gift for @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy based on their request for Vlad’s slice of life outside of the Fentons.

On FFN and AO3

Summary: Contrary to belief, Vlad does have hobbies other than spinning in a fancy chair with his cat thinking of evil plots. For example, every Tuesday he dedicates the day to hanging out with his best friend as they both indulged in their crippling, long term addictions: World of Warcraft, with a pinch of Dungeons and Dragons.

Rating: K+

Warnings: Some cursing

Other Notes: Everybody is gay or trans, and you can't stop me.

Running a multi billion dollar empire was stressful, to say the very least. And of course, when you own those businesses, it was easy to work as much or as little as you pleased. Not that Vlad ever found himself taking off too much from work. No, no. He loved running his empire, the meetings and decisions. Whenever he took too much time off, the halfa found himself restless. Vlad craved a full schedule, and he needed things to look forward to.

Though of course, he wasn't all work and no play. There was one day of the week Vlad always, with the exception of business trips, took off or would take easy: Tuesdays. Tuesday was raid day.

And on that Tuesday morning, Vlad paid no mind as he could faintly hear the front door being unlocked and closed. His best friend, his actual best friend (NOT that fool Jack), had keys and was permitted to come over whenever he pleased.

Vlad continued his morning routine lazily, carefully shaving and grooming his beard to his preferred style. Brushed and styled his hair in it's normal ponytail, and he dressed himself. Any other day of the week, Vlad would be putting on his Italian brand name custom suits, always freshly pressed and ironed by a maid. But today was raid day, and so he instead was wearing sweatpants and an oversized Packers sweatshirt. He slipped on his football slippers, and he went downstairs to his computer room.

Not his office, which was expensively decorated with only the most fine and formal, shelves lined with important titles. His computer room, which was expensively decorated for a whole other reason. As he opened the door, he smiled at the shelves full of figurines of his favorite characters, accessories adorning the walls. He knew that most would have a stroke, since he never kept anything in the original box, despite having the entire collection of figurines, statues, busts, everything that would make the most dedicated fan drooling. That was simply stupid in Vlad's eyes, it was made to be admired and displayed, not kept in a box. If any were to break, he could simply buy another, no issue.

They lined shelves that were all over the brightly lit room, with cabinets below that held their boxes. While he didn't keep them in boxes, he of course, still kept them. There were also some books, mostly related to the lore but also game guides and manuals.

He admired his collection for a moment before turning his attention to the middle aged man getting comfortable in one of the three computer setups Vlad had, the far left one. All the setups were, of course, only the best and most advanced, with each desktop having three monitors and leather chairs. Each desk was a large U shaped one, set pressed to each other and near the back wall for the outlets.

"Hey, morning!" Edward Lancer greeted him warmly. Both men were morning people, clear by their chosen professions and schedules. Ed was in his own lounge wear, sweatpants with crocs and an old college t-shirt. "I brought McDonald's." He gestured to the bag that was left on Vlad's desk, alongside a cup of coffee clearly from Vlad's own kitchen.

Had it been any person other than Ed, Vlad would have been mortified over McDonald's. But even billionaires couldn't resist their breakfast, and it was only on Tuesday that he was able to privately indulge. Ed never judged.

"Thank you!" Vlad replied brightly. Ed had his own meal in front of him, sitting facing away from the keyboard as he took his time eating. Vlad joined him, sitting at his desk and doing the same, allowing them to talk face to face as they ate.

"Are you ready to fight the dragon later?" Ed questioned as he cut up his pancakes. "Since we're resting, I've been trying to figure out what spells I should prepare for the day to fight it." Vlad snorted, shaking his head.

"Knowing Harriet, she'll likely make the dragon a red herring that goes down with ease and dick us over with the actual boss that'll be invincible to half our party because it's immune the attacks that destroy the damn dragon," Vlad replied before taking a big sip of coffee. Burning hot, but delicious. Ed chuckled in amusement.

"She's always made it fair though," Ed replied. "Her boss battles are never unbeatable."

"Yeah, but she makes every campaign some Water Temple level meets 90s point and click mystery game difficulty and outrageous puzzle solving," Vlad grumbled.

"I like it, it's good critical thinking practice," Ed replied. "I've used some of her puzzles in the games I DM for the students. Really makes them think rather than just attacking everything. I swear, one of my students, Nathan, he just loves rolling to attack every NPC I make."

"Sounds like a ninny," Vlad said as he took a bite of his greasy fast food. The best part about the summer was Ed not having to teach. They could dedicate the whole day to hanging out. Of course, Ed took up a summer job, but he was able to secure Tuesdays off.

"A bit, but a good kid," Ed always spoke fondly of his students. "You should come in sometime for a game, it'd be fun."

"I think I might," Vlad agreed thoughtfully.

Of course, going to Casper High was always hit or miss. Daniel was there, and it was always nice to be able to check in on the little badger. But as mayor and a billionaire that funded several scholarships, it would be nice publicity to go and have some face time with kids. Many of his high school interns had graduated and left for college, and he was in the market for some new ones. Might be able to find some promising new future employees too. Hm, he'd have to see where he could fit a Casper High visit into his schedule when school began. Vlad would worry about that another time.

"How's their gay club?" Vlad questioned. "You guys just formed one, right?"

"It's got a steady group of kids who come in, very good kids. Many have supportive parents now," Ed explained. The teacher had paused, giving a small sigh. "It's a double edge sword for me. On one hand, I'm so grateful that so many of them can be who they are. But...I don't know. I hate that we never got to have that."

Vlad nodded understandingly. He poked at his breakfast, feeling hunger temporarily leave him as those depressive memories came back.

"I'll forever be thankful that Mother wanted to apologize and make amends before she died," Vlad spoke. "But I'm sorry she missed out on so much because of what I had to do to become happy. At least she passed away recognizing me as her son."

The last memories of his mother was depressing. Elderly and sick with cancer, even with all the money Vlad began to throw at her once she reached out to him after nearly twenty years of refusing to speak to him. Whether his sister wore her down, or it was deathbed regrets. It was an emotional two years, being able to see his mom again.

"Mine's in better shape than me, and they're still calling me by my old name," Ed complained. "I don't think it'll ever change. I try to keep a relationship, cause of the kids, but I don't know if it's even worth it anymore."

Silence hung in the air as they separately mourned for what it all cost them. Of course, it was worth it. Absolutely worth it to be happy, to be comfortable and finally as they should be, but it didn't make the cost any less harsh of a price to pay.

"Their generation will be better," Vlad said firmly. Ed nodded in agreement. "Please let me know if any of them need binders or anything of the sorts."

"I will. I've been thinking about starting a clothing drive for them," Ed explained. "I can probably get the school on board with it if we market it as for the lower income students too. Dressing how you want makes a big difference."

"You get the details sorted out, and I will absolutely financially back you," Vlad promised. Ed smiled.

"Thank you. I may start working on that to propose for this school year," Ed mused.

For the bumbling oaf that Jack was, Vlad had to admit that he was a very loving and caring man. A bit too caring, honestly, it was a bit of a flaw. He had immediately accepted Vlad, and later on his own son. It always warmed him to remember that Daniel had two parents that had immediately gotten him everything a young trans man could ever need. No hesitation, no questioning.

Ed took a final bite of his breakfast before humming happily. He wiped his hands as he pushed to toss his empty containers into the trash can.

"Enough being sad, let's raid," he suggested. Vlad hurriedly took his last two bites before nodding in agreement.

123456789

The raid was broken up with greasy Chinese takeout for lunch, brought to them by a staff. Another guilty pleasure Vlad rarely indulged in. Then, of course, it was a return to games before they changed into their normal attire, sitting down to a home cooked dinner by staff. By the time they were finishing up, their other guests had begun to arrive for the evening plans.

Vlad always hosted the game. It just always made the most sense. He had the most room in his house, nor the distractions of family. Not that he disliked Lance nor Ed's children, they were great, but there was nothing that ruined the immersion of dragon slaying quite like teenage dramatics. And he thought that playing with toddlers in the house was frustrating.

The four sat in yet another room in Vlad's mansion that he had dedicated fully to the hobby. A large round table with Harriet Chin sitting furthest from them. A DM folder that separated her papers from there, just low enough that the halfa could see her smirking to herself as she reviewed her plans. Ed sat to her left, with an empty seat in between them. Another empty seat in between him and Vlad, and yet another separated Vlad from Lance Thunder.

Vlad honestly didn't really know the man that well yet. He was one of Harriet's coworkers that she had dragged into the summer game, as Vlad and Ed needed a third person in the party for this campaign. Their normal fourth and fifth friends, Joe and Frank, were spending the summer with their daughter and their newborn granddaughter. He already missed the pair terribly, especially Frank. Frank would often join in on their World of Warcraft adventures. But Lance was gay, and that made him okay enough for Vlad to accept him into their little queer circle with little complaint.

"I wouldn't get her a car unless she had good grades," Vlad gave his two cents into the conversation. Something about Lance's daughter wanting a car. Lance nodded.

"That's what I've been saying, but Alan keeps saying that if Star had her own car, she could begin driving herself to the library and to school to study, but I just don't buy that," Lance agreed. Vlad knew by now who those people were. Alan was Lance's husband, Star was Lance's daughter from his first marriage. Vlad had seen pictures of Star before. She was a spitting image of Lance. "She's more interested in being with her friends."

"And what does Rene think?" Ed questioned about the ex-wife's opinion. Lance shrugged.

"She doesn't think Star needs a car," Lance replied. "Public transportation isn't bad here, she can always borrow one of our cars, and lots of colleges won't let you have cars as a freshman anyway. So it'd be sitting in the driveway in a year or so for a year anyway."

"Star's going to be a junior, right?" Vlad questioned. Lance nodded. Vlad mentally went over his garage of cars. "When she's able to have a car on her college campus, I'll happily give her a good deal on one of my cars if she has good grades. I'll probably be retiring one of my cars by then. Of course, it's not going to be some beat up piece of junk." Lance's eyes widened.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind," Lance smiled warmly at him.

"Vlad sold my oldest, Ophelia, a car about five years ago. Car still runs like it's new," Ed spoke up.

"Ophelia just began graduate school, didn't she?" Harriet questioned, finally speaking up. She had been nose deep in her campaign notes. Ed nodded.

"She got in at the University of Chicago, full ride," Ed beamed with pride, and Vlad was very proud too. Ophelia, his precious goddaughter, was like a niece to him. Very smart, quick-witted and the only one who could match Ed's passion for literature. Of course, Vlad provided her with that full ride scholarship, as he did with her younger siblings, and eventually he would do the same for Ed's remaining two when they got to that point. No niece or nephew of his was going to college with student debts. "George is set to graduate soon too, this is his last year. Before med school anyway."

Ahh, little Georgie. Vlad got to spend a lot of time with him. He was one of Vlad's interns at Axion Labs. A strong willed boy, good head on his shoulders. Sometimes a little too honest, but the world needed more people like that. Whenever the billionaire stopped by Axion Labs, he always paid a visit to his favorite intern. It was always those times he spent with Ed's children that Vlad regretted not having his own.

"So how's the cat, Vlad?" Harriet asked, giving a small smirk. She could always seem to sniff out his emotions. Damn journalists. They were a bit too observant. Vlad rolled his eyes.

"How's yours?" he asked back. She chuckled.

"Bandit's the happiest boy alive, I just got him a nice new cat tower," she replied. Vlad nodded.

"I just had a new cat house for Maggie built," Vlad told her. Of course, he was never going to admit to his friends, most of them knowing the ghost huntress, that he named his cat after a long term crush. "It's going to be installed in the next week or so. You should bring Bandit over then. Maggie loves him."

"Oh I might," Harriet hummed happily. "It's been a while since Bandit got to hang out with Maggie."

"Does anybody want a drink before we begin?" Vlad questioned.

"Can I have a glass of rosé wine?" Harriet questioned. The billionaire smirked.

"Of course," he replied. He glanced to Ed and Lance.

"Uh, just gimme a beer, you know what I like," Ed shrugged. Lance thought for a moment.

"I may just have some wine too," Lance spoke.

Vlad nodded, and he stood to go to the intercom on the wall. All of the rooms in his house had it for his staff. He pushed it, and he requested the drinks, alongside what he knew to be choice snacks.

Almost as soon as Vlad had sat down, a male staff member came with a tray. It was full of cheese and crackers, popcorn, chips and fondue. Another staff member came with drinks and glasses.

Vlad picked up a beer like Ed, cracking it open and taking a long drink. Of course, in any other company, he'd indulge in wine. Beer was not something one could normally drink at a formal business function, and so he always took advantage of the times he could freely have some.

They began. A small discussion, and as the billionaire expected, the dragon went down easy. Suspiciously easy. Harriet gave the group before her a mischievous grin just over her DM folder. Vlad didn't like this, or that look in her eye.

"So you guys defeated the dragon," the reporter replied slyly. "But there's no loot to collect on him. The dragon dissolves and melts away. Everybody roll for perception and add your stuff. Then tell me what you got."

Oh, he definitely did not like this a single bit. Vlad eyed her coldly as he picked up his dice. Ed and Lance did the same.

"Visual or hearing, I'm missing an eye so I'd have to roll disadvantage otherwise," Ed reminded her.

"Hearing!" Harriet chirped. He nodded.

"Uh, sixteen then," he replied.

"Ten," Lance said.

"Twenty-two," Vlad spoke.

"You hear nothing," Harriet told Lance, pointing to him. She moved her finger to Ed. "You hear a small noise, two voices. But they're a bit muffle, you can't quite make out the entire conversation. But you do hear some words. The general jist of the conversation you can make out is that these individuals have realized you killed the dragon and are here." Harriet pointed to Vlad. "You! However, you can hear everything. It's a rough voice of a masculine figure telling somebody to prepare for battle, somebody has killed their precious dragon. They're going to detect your thoughts to determine your next movements before making their next move."

"I cast detect magic," Vlad replied. Harriet's eyes sparkled.

"It failed," she announced gleefully. Vlad internally groaned, and he could see Ed looking confused. "So what will you guys do."

Lance scratched his temple as he stared at his character sheet. He was not just new to the group, but to the game itself. The weather man studied his sheet for a moment as he tried to think. He took a long sip of his wine before speaking.

"Well uh, I think my guy is just gonna look for the treasure, cause I didn't hear anything," Lance said slowly. "And I'm still really interested in the promised gold."

"I tell him to not, because we should be careful," Ed spoke up quickly. "Because of what I heard."

"You tell your party what you heard?" Harriet questioned. She had leaned back in her seat, a leg over the arm of the chair as she held her beverage. The lesbian lightly swirled her wine in her glass before taking a long drink.

"Yeah, I tell my party what I heard," Ed clarified.

"And I'll tell them what I heard," Vlad agreed. "Because I need these people alive to keep me alive. They're my meat shields." Harriet snickered.

"So the prince never mentioned anything but a dragon being in here," Ed said slowly. "It must be another adventuring party trying to get the treasure. Prince Yamum said he did send several people to collect the family amulet."

"I say we kill them," Vlad suggested. Ed looked at him in disapproval, and Vlad shrugged. "My character's selfish. He doesn't want to share the loot with this party, and he doesn't want to share the rewards for returning the amulet."

"I agree," Lance said slowly. "My guy doesn't want the competition."

"No, no!" Ed said sternly. "We are NOT killing him, he may have useful information for us or be able to help."

"There's two voices, so that's a five way split between treasure," Lance pointed out. Vlad glanced to see Harriet's reaction. She was grinning like a fool, with that distinctive sparkle in her eye. She was absolutely up to something, and she looked like a true super villain. Evil plots forming her mind. Vlad trusted her with nothing, and yet he admired this chaotic evil lesbian. Harriet was his villain goals.

"Harriet, I swear on your grave," Vlad began his threat, only to stop with a frown at Harriet's devilish giggle.

"The individual detects your negative and violent thoughts," she announced cheerfully. She finished off her glass, shifting to have both legs over the armrest, her back against the opposite one. "And they have deduced that you're a threat that needs to be taken care of. Congratulations, boys. You're encountering the real boss." Vlad scowled.

"I knew you were going to do this, you always pull some weird bait and switch thing!" Vlad complained. Harriet smirked. "Lemme guess. It's a, it's a, god what would be the worst thing to fight right now." Vlad racked his mind for a possible enemy. "A rakshasa? Probably with a shield guardian too."

Harriet's smirk only widened. And Vlad knew he was correct.

"Roll for initiative, bitch."

#my phics #phics #holiday truce 2019 #idiot cheesehead archenemy #vlad masters #mr. lancer #lance thunder #harriet chin

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Short Story: Saito-san’s Days of Practice

First translation posts of the month (1 of 2 for translations +1 update [that one will not be tagged with hakuoki]), so please support me if you can either on ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/V7V2W0HO) or through paypal (paypal.me/KumoriYami )…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i don’t have the audio for those…..

In regards to this translation, I honestly don’t know where this short story came from, but I’ve assumed that it showed up in one of the Dengeki or B-log magazines as they, in the past, have had other various Hakuoki short stories in them....I think? If anyone has information in regards to this,  I’d appreciate it to put that down here....

Aside from Saito’s story, I’ve only been able to find Chinese translations for Souji and Heisuke for these (don’t have a timeline on those right now, cuz holy shit these feel extreeeemely long. seriously!).... and have no intention of looking for the others at the moment (i gave up after more than an hour). If anyone does happen to find the others in Chinese... feel free to send them my way since I will add those to my list of torturous translations (i don’t wanna update my lookout list rn + plus I don’t want to add these to that list without knowing where these come from). 

Anyway, this story is told from Chizuru’s point of view, also the image is not mine.

Enjoy~<3

Hakuoki Short Story - Saito-san’s Days of Practice

Translation by KumoriYami

The silence of the temple was disturbed by the sound of Saito-san slicing the air with a wooden sword. He repeated his movements smoothly, from top to bottom, [then] from left to right.

During this quiet morning, after hearing the sound of sword practice in the temple as I was heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, I couldn't help but stop.

"Ah......Saito-san?"

“Yukimura, today you woke up early? Are you going to prepare breakfast?”

"Yes, Saito-san, you are also up early."

Before my arrival, Saito-san had been practising for a while, [and] his cheeks were sweaty. I handed him the handkerchief I had with me to him, tilting my head as I asked:

“Why are you practising so early? What's the matter? [alt: Is there anything going on/something wrong?]”

“Yes, I was thinking about something.”

“Thinking about something?”

“A few days ago, vice-commander asked me to train some of the new recruits..... but I don't know what training arrangements should be made.

Saito-san frowned slightly and continued to speak.

From his words, it sounded as if the new warriors who joined [the Shinsengumi] had good swordsmanship.

“Sword skills can be ordinarily improved through normal training, but mental capabilities are different to improve, [and/but I] don't know of any good methods to improve them.”

"A good method...."

Early morning birds chirping echoed in my ears, I looked over the Nishi Honwanji temple courtyard together with Saito-san thinking of his concerns.

After thinking for a moment, I clasped my hands together and spoke:  "Ah, I have heard that the monks of Nishi Honwanji usually sit in meditation to improve their minds.

"Indeed, meditation can really improve/hone a person's mind. However, merely siting in meditation does not seem adequate,  and something else must be done."

------------

Regardless of if it's plants [says trees] or animals, all living things will hide themselves until spring as it was winter

The wind blowing off the river wasn't just cold, but painful.  Just breathing made my throat feel frozen.

——Even so, today Saito-san was only wearing a single strip of cloth [fundoshi... probably?], tightly holding his arm(s) [probably: tightly crossing his arms], quietly looking down towards the torrential waterfall before us.

"Sai-saito-san, you truly want to sit underneath  that waterfall?

Yes, since ancient times to the present, when it comes to mediation, it's best to use a waterfall.

"But, the weather is so cold, you might die accidentally...."

If there is no risk to one's life, then it will not be training.

Saito-san nodded seriously, then went towards the cold river. The moment his toe touched the water, Saito-san shook violently. I was absolutely not imagining it.

Saito-san continued his movements, obviously stiffly because of the cold.

I worriedly called out to him:

"Saito-san, d-don't do this....."

"It's okay, do not worry."

"But......"

"Do not worry."

Saito-san whispered to himself, then showed no hesitation as he put one foot into the water. 

He used his frozen legs to wade through the river and after, moved underneath the waterfall without hesitation.

"If, if only one's mind [thinks it] is cold, [then] even fire can be [thought of as] cold...... [the tl i saw had the word “cold” in place of where I put in “fire”, and the 2nd 'cold’ that I wrote as “fire/hot,” so I switched these around]

Saito-san endured waterfall falling down on his head, softly/gently [slowly] closing his eyes.

「……」

“No, no [don't do this] Saito-san! Now that you've meditated, hurry up and get out, or you really will catch a cold."

「……」

"......Saito-san?"

「……」

"Saito-san? Saito-san——" ------------

"Therefore/as a result/so, in order to improve one's willpower/mind, not only meditation, but also doing that beneath a waterfall [will help]?

"That....the last part is too dangerous..."

"It was only because the water was so cool and comfortable, that I almost fell asleep.”

Almost froze to death—— though that could not be said, I was once again made aware of the present.

"Now that it is no longer winter, it is now longer possible to ind a cold waterfall."

"Yes. other methods to practice need to be thought of."

What other ways were there? We fell into deep contemplation again.

The time, the first who thought [of something] was Saito-san.

"It would better to go into the mountains to live in seclusion, this is also [a] basic [form of] training."

------------ 

Through the roof made/built of tree leaves and branches, the familiar sunlight,  only the sound of birds from the quiet mountain roads/paths, shrouded [the area] with a tranquil/quiet atmosphere.

[Alt (since my ^ tl for this was more literal):  The sunlight passing through the roof made of tree leaves and branches and the sound of birds chirping on the mountain paths created a tranquil atmosphere.][also im guessing they built a shelter?]

[We have] Been living in seclusion in the mountains for [a few] days [now].

Saito-san and I were living(/surviving) in the mountains by picking wild vegetables, and fishing to eat.

"......[I] Really didn't think/expect that it would be so quiet."

"Yes..... Saito-san, is this also a form of practise/training?

"In a sense, there is no type of training stricter/more rigourous than this, than/with just the two of us living secluded in the mountains."

"Eh?"

I couldn't help but make a sound as I looked at Saito-san, however I didn't understand why he looked away.

Then while not looking at me, whispered.

"I mean, there is nothing here, I don't know if you're bored being together with me......"

"There is no such problem, I like being together with Saito-san."

"Is, is that so? That's good... Well, actually, me being together with you also...." [alt: being together with you, I also...]

Just now [he] said——

Saito-san's voice was muffled by another noise, [one] that suddenly [started] coming from the rustling of the nearby bushes.

The sounds coming from the bushes got louder and louder, until finally, it turned into the low roar of a wild beast.

I immediately assumed a defensive position, [and] at this moment, I saw a giant beast with sharp claws appear.

"Sai-saito-san, there's a bear! Quick, run away/get out of here!"

I hurriedly pulled at Saito-san's sleeves, trying to pull him so that we could escape together, but I don't know why he wanted to continue what he was saying to me, and did not move.

「……」

It absolutely wasn't because of fear that he refused to budge.  Because he was glaring straight at the bear with a terrible look.

"Yukimura, retreat."

"Are-are you going to fight it? You might not be a bear's opponent...."

"Encountering these type of circumstances should be avoided, [alt?: Coming across /having such an opportunity  is rare,/This situation was supposed to be a retreat/ I was supposed to be getting away from these types of situations,] but I am suddenly, no, I am very angry."

[^ if you can’t tell, i had looots of difficulties with the first half of this, lol. so I just put down all my interpretations... though I'd assume it's probably more  along the lines of: Having such an opportunity (with you) is rare, so I am suddenly...]

Saito-san looked straight at the bear with a sharp gaze and put his left hand on his katana's hilt, emitting killing intent/a murderous aura, as if the bear was a punching bag.

"Living in seclusion in the wilderness requires fighting a bear——Prepare to die, bear." [may say: To live  (in seclusion) in the mountain wilderness is to fight a bear/means fighting a bear]

------------ 

".....Well, we can discuss about how else to hone/improve one's mind/willpower. Will it/should it need to involve fighting bears?

Ordinary humans should not be able to defeat bears, but Saito-san is not without the possibility of winning. With these types of  thoughts, I lowered my head.

"Disregarding minor details, we cannot be away from headquarters for long, [and] living in seclusion in the mountains is not realistic.”

"Yes, to hone your mind/will, you shouldn't need to go living in seclusion in the mountains."

Once again, our thoughts were disrupted, [and] we sighed, together looking towards the sky again.

"[This is] Really difficult. Is there an effective training method that doesn't require [a lot of] time?"

Thinking about this general idea, I thought:

"Nn.....what about fasting? A few days ago, Heisuke-kun, Harada-san, [and] Nagakura-san didn't eat anything for the entire day, [and were] so hungry that they cried."

"Fasting? This sounds worthwhile, though I do not know its effectiveness."

After hearing this, I suddenly remembered,  this talk about eating——

"Ah, that's right! I need to go make breakfast!"

“Sorry, I have kept you for so long. What is for breakfast today?"

"Turnip soup, [and] Kyoto-styled cooked vegetables [lit: Kyoto cooked vegetables]. Although it's yesterday's leftovers, the taste is very rich and is very delicious." 

Ghrgh....

Saito-san responded to what I said with his stomach, which sounded like the stomach of a hungry animal.

"........It appears that my training is insufficient, [and that] I must correct what I said as fasting appears to be an effective form of practice/training."

Saito-san turned his head and blushed because of his stomach's gurgling.

I responded with a smile and looked away.

"Breakfast will be ready soon, please wait a moment."

"Today I'll help you cook, as thanks to you for speaking with me."

"Ah......okay, I'll be troubling you Saito-san!"

Saito-san spoke as he quickly walked forward, and I hurried to catch up.

the end

--------

The title of this might actually be Day of Practice instead of plural days... but I left it at days since I think it made more sense.... Unfortunately, identifying if something is either singular or plural in Chinese isn’t the easiest thing to do unless there’s more context.... and titles certainly lack that. Nouns without context... it’s like they’re all like the word ‘moose’ (only English comparison I can think of off the top of my head atm...). It’s both singular and plural and without further information, it’s impossible to figure out if one moose is being talked about or multiple moose.... 

^I only wrote this blurb cuz i spent a good 5 min pondering about what the title should be lol. Using day sounds better, and I’m kinda particular about how the way things both look and sound, but days did make more sense..... 

^^i’m kinda feeling random rn... and i’ve probably had too much sugar just now. tired too. also i don’t have a habit of writing translation notes like this nor do i really intend to do so notes like this again in the future... though perhaps again when im felt like i’ve had too much sugar? lol w/e...

>_<

nother post will be up shortly. tsukikage countdown.

#Hakuoki #Hakuouki #Saito Hajime #Hakuoki Other Translation #Hakuoki Short Story Translation #Yukimura Chizuru