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sugarstickery · 3 years

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An Allegory Within the Dark

This is an unofficial fan translation of chapter 3 of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel, Departing Summer and Returning Autumn by Gege Akutami and Ballad Kitaguni.

Summary: Mahito stumbles across an unusual human in his search for a place to call ‘home’.

Featured characters: Primarily Mahito, with brief appearances from Hanami and Jogo, along with an unnamed novel-only character

Timeline: An undefined time prior to the events of the Vs. Mahito arc

An Allegory Within the Dark

If you want to hide a tree, you go to the middle of a forest.

So if you’re looking to hide a person, you should go to the middle of a city.

Following that logic, it makes sense for curses worthy of being the true humans to set up their hideout in the city center.

Cursed spirits would actually have it much easier if they spent their time in places crammed with fear where humans and the like can’t live: deep in the mountains or in densely wooded areas, for example.

But for a group of curses plotting to overturn the current era, a base in the heart of the city is crucial for invasion and seeking refuge. That being the case, it’s also better to try aiming for a location with a high concentration of negativity.

Anyway, that’s how some employees from a scam business ended up massacred.

“This really is the simplest way to handle it. All of them nest together up here away from the public eye, so clean-up is a cinch.”

Jogo laughed while trampling the burning remains of a corpse underfoot.

Roughly two minutes ago, there were about six humans in the office.

The curses considered a few ways to handle dispatching them but ultimately decided that burning was the fastest, so Jogo quickly turned them to ash.

“But humans used this building, didn’t they? Won’t it be a problem if there’s property management or something?” Mahito asked, poking at an ostentatious vase displayed on a shelf.

Apparently the concern was unnecessary. Jogo tried to answer with a grin, but a nonsensical language cut into their conversation.

“⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⎎⍜⋏⏁ ⟟⌇ ☊⎍⌇⏁⍜⋔”

“Oi, bastard—! Stop talking, Hanami! It makes my head itch!”

Though Hanami spoke in nothing but meaningless sounds, the intention behind it was somehow transmitted directly into the minds of others. This was usually unpleasant and it irritated Jogo.

When he noticed Mahito still looking his way, Jogo continued to explain despite his frustration.

“Hmph... What? There’s no need to worry. I asked Geto what his aim was, and it looks like these were the kind of underhanded humans who got involved in plenty of unethical things.”

“Hm. So basically, other humans won’t actually come close if they get that curse stuff happens here.”

“Exactly. Any respectable, straight-laced human would never come near this place under normal circumstances. It’s the perfect city-center hideout.”

“Is it really?”

“...What is it, Mahito? You don’t seem satisfied. What’s there to worry about? It would put us in a great position to start preparing our plans for the city, and it’s great for a quick escape if we need one.”

“Mm... No, you’re right, but...”

“But what? Spit it out.”

“It’s just... This room is really tacky.”

“Huh?”

With a pop, a small eruption burst forth from Jogo’s head. His narrowed eye looked like a painting of a gently sloping mountain.

“It’s tasteless, isn’t it? Stuff like that gaudy gold lion in the sparkly jar or this cheap-looking sideboard.”

“What are you even saying?! I have no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but you’ve been so annoying!”

“Movies.”

“Movies? Are those overly-embellished portrayals of humans really that interesting?”

“They’re references for my studies on the structure of a soul,” Mahito replied with an ambiguous smile.

If humans could see him, they might be reminded of a proud elementary schooler discussing the knowledge they gained from a book report.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t find the stories that interesting either, but I don’t hate the sense of visual aesthetics that humans have. That said, this room has too many useless colors and really hurts the eyes.”

“Such bratty, selfish complaints... We can just burn or toss anything that’s an eyesore.”

“No need, I’m going to look for a place to settle down on my own.”

“What? Ah, hey— Where are you going?”

Not waiting for Jogo’s response, Mahito waved over his shoulder and vanished like smoke or a gentle breeze, off to who-knows-where.

“Geez… Maybe it’s because he was born from human fear, but even knowing he’s a curse, he tends to be way too frivolous. Watching movies and all…”

While grumbling out his complaints, Jogo took a pipe from his shirt pocket to put in his mouth.

Unlike human cigarettes, this wooden pipe somehow imitated a screaming face when smoked.

“But that Mahito...”

Jogo spun around to survey the room with his one eye.

“...He says that, but it doesn’t seem tacky to me.”

“⊑⏃⋏⏃⋔⟟”

“I already said shut up!!”

You can only find a hideaway that suits you by looking for it on your own.

Mahito wandered through the city with this in mind. He alternated left and right turns on a whim any time he happened across a traffic light, walked alongside stray cats, or sometimes simply went in the direction of clouds that he liked the shape of.

While traveling along his chosen path like this, he keenly felt just how laughable humans were.

Though the city belongs to them, no one walking in and out of it was more free than Mahito.

Everyone seemed constrained. They were captured by ties of obligation and vanity, living in a wide, deep, big city with such narrow outlooks.

Unaffected by the enormous sky sprawling out endlessly overhead, they box themselves into their concrete city with their own hands and limited perception of souls, passing the time by whittling their lives down further and further.

Mahito even learned the words for some of these human concepts to study later.

For example, they call it “morals”. They call it “common sense”. They call it “emotion”.

But a human soul isn’t anything more than the resulting mechanical movement that comes from external stimuli.

And so they let go of freedom and live tightly controlled lives, fearing the judgmental stares of others, stooping to flattery for society’s approval.

“...What a waste.”

Everyone is bound by ostentatious shackles of their own making.

That’s why these curses know there has to be a change, as far as humans go. Those who cannot do anything but crawl in such an unsightly way under the magnificent sky must hand over the world.

Mahito thinks. He ponders over any topic his soul turns toward. He walks wherever the wind blows him.

Before long, the time had come for the sun to descend in the western sky. He could hear the burbling of a river.

“Not bad.”

The hideaway Mahito found was under a bridge, across the river.

It was a tunnel, vacant and huge like a temple.

Pipes ran along the inside, clear water flowing from them and into the river. It looked like wastewater was drained here after being purified, so there wasn’t much discomfort.

Apart from the humid air and the moss that emitted a peculiar grassy smell, it seemed wide enough to splash and jump around in, and the concrete’s cool texture provided a refreshing welcome.

There’s a season that curses are partial to.

Negative human emotions accumulate from the end of winter to spring, and it could be said that the rainy season served as the so-called peak of their ripening.

The inside of the damp tunnel held the same atmosphere. There was a gloominess there in the dim lighting that could easily nurture fear. It gently moistened Mahito’s skin; he felt cozy.

“Yeah, let’s stay here.”

When choosing a place to live, it’s best to trust your instincts.

Perhaps humans should do the same, but what they can’t readily do, Mahito can decide without hesitation. If he’s free when he wanders, then he’s free when he settles down, too.

Mahito stepped into the tunnel in good spirits, knocking solidly on the concrete floor.

The soul’s metabolism smooths out in comforting spaces. But…

“Huh?”

After walking a short distance, Mahito discovered “that”.

He initially thought it was some garbage or something that a human illegally dumped. But before long, it became clear that it was a sack-like silhouette leaning against a wall.

At first glance, it perhaps looked like a mere collection of rags.

But the shape of a soul was there.

—Ah, it’s alive.

Yes, just as Mahito had realized, it was a human.

The tattered clothing and wildly overgrown hair and beard hid his shape, but it was undoubtedly a human.

His exact age wasn’t clear from his outward appearance, but whether he was 60 or over 80, he looked elderly.

Mahito thought it was a bit of a pain.

There was already a visitor living in his precious hideaway.

Of course, taking care of this issue would be an easy matter for him. But he felt the same discomfort as a homeowner finding a stain on the wall of their new house.

‘Anyway, if I’m gonna deal with this, let’s get it done,’ Mahito thought, reaching out toward the old man with a little sigh.

Whereupon, unexpectedly, the old man spoke.

“...I’m sorry if you’re displeased.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what you came here to do, but... I’m sure your mood has soured after stumbling across the home of an old fool. But I have nowhere to go, either.”

Mahito was a little taken aback.

The old man was clearly aware of Mahito and turned toward him to speak. This wouldn’t be surprising at all if he was talking to a fellow human.

But Mahito is a curse.

The eyes of a mere human can’t clearly perceive cursed spirits.

It isn’t impossible, though. If humans are born with cursed energy, it isn’t unusual for them to be aware of the existence of curses.

What caught Mahito’s attention was this old man’s lack of ‘eyes’.

As in, he had no eyes in the physical sense. Instead, in the empty sockets that once held them, there was a burn scar that was painful just to look at.

Even sorcerers rely on their eyes to view the world.

They depend on their field of vision to spot cursed spirits. That’s why so many of them use sunglasses and the like to conceal their line of sight, as it helps them remain unaffected. It also helps them maintain a balanced mind when their daily life overflows with curses.

However, that was not the case for this old man.

“Can you see me?”

When Mahito asked, the old man answered with a gentle nod.

“At the very least, I can feel you.”

“But you can’t see the world?”

“Naturally. That includes the scenery, what you look like, what color your skin is, and even your gender. Even so... I know you’re there.”

“...Are you a sorcerer?”

“Most likely not.”

“You’re being pretty vague, even though you’re talking about yourself.”

“For a long time, that’s what I’ve been the most vague about.”

Mahito began to notice something strange.

He can feel the shape of a human’s soul.

He knows the movement of a soul’s metabolism, whether it takes on a harsh form, withers weakly, or flickers with liveliness.

However, this old man’s soul was hardly metabolizing.

It was like a meadow with no wind, or a still sea, or the blue sky on a cloudless day.

No, it would be most appropriate to compare it to a stone.

His soul was like a stone on the side of the road.

No fancy ornamentation, no polishing. Unmoving, unwavering.

Calmly passing the time while growing moss.

That was the shape this old man’s soul had.

No matter how calm or how old a person is, the human soul always flickers.

As the years stack up, common sense doesn’t disappear, selfishness isn’t eliminated, and fear isn’t conquered.

But this old man was different.

The old man’s soul was at peace. He had sincerely accepted that everything would decay with time, but that didn’t mean he would throw his life away. It was truly similar to the way in which nature existed.

It was Mahito’s first time meeting anyone like this.

For a while, the tunnel became something of a den for Mahito.

He had gotten a hammock from somewhere, which he hung up between the pipes. He lounged in it and read, passing the time in comfort.

In a movie about life on a deserted island, a human who was desperate to survive made a hammock. Through it, he was able to regain a little peace of mind.

Since it looked surprisingly comfortable, Mahito gave it a try and it worked out nicely.

The arguments and fights of the outside world didn’t reach the inside of the tunnel, where only the burble of the small stream could be heard.

It provided a good environment for soothing the soul.

While leisurely absorbing new knowledge from his books, Mahito would sometimes absentmindedly gaze up toward the ceiling, or glance down at the corner where the old man squatted, looking as he always did.

“How do you live like this? It’s pretty mysterious...”

In the end, Mahito didn’t kill the old man.

It’s important to note that the old man wasn’t much of a hindrance for him. If it would make no difference whether he was there or gone, then Mahito figured getting rid of him would be more of a hassle.

The old man was just there, even quieter and more carefree than a stray cat.

Mahito knew the phrase: ‘man is only a reed, but he is a thinking reed’.

He found it hilarious and also genuinely liked it. It simultaneously boasted about being trapped in thoughts of the soul, while also showing that humans were frail as weeds.

It could be said that the old man was an unthinking reed, then.

No – he was even quieter than that; more like grass or some type of moss. In any case, the old man said nothing and simply carried on living.

Every now and then, the old man would suddenly shuffle off elsewhere, but he would be back to sleep before Mahito knew it. He was surely getting food from somewhere, but he never seemed to gain weight. If he lost any while in the tunnel, he would eat just enough to gain it back when he left, and no more.

It was a style of living so close to nature that it seemed more like a phenomenon than a life.

“That’s why I seriously wonder if you can see me.”

The suspicion was uttered suddenly.

Mahito wasn’t exactly speaking to the old man. Rather, his tone was that of someone talking to themselves.

But when he noticed that the old man’s soul didn’t waver even after hearing him speak, Mahito finally addressed him directly.

“How long have you been here?”

“Let’s see… I think a few winters have passed, but I’m not sure,” the old man muttered, his reply quiet.

Since they were two beings with souls who were aware of each other’s existence, Mahito felt it would be more natural to chat every now and then.

“Don’t you get bored?”

When spoken to in a soft tone, the old man also responded softly.

“I’ve forgotten how to be bored.”

“How do you usually pass the time here?”

“I don’t do anything, really. I just listen to the sounds.”

“The sounds?”

“The sounds of the water flowing.”

“...Is it fun?”

“It’s not. But I forgot how to have fun a long time ago, too, so it’s not an issue.”

So it was like that. Mahito nodded.

If this old man could no longer even feel the pain of boredom, perhaps his soul was worn down.

Humans of the city gasp and struggle through the hurt of not having enough, yet always wish for more even when they get what they wanted. Their souls grew fat and tattered through the rich accumulation of these negative feelings.

So in that regard, from Mahito’s point of view, the old man had a thin soul – but it could be said that was clever of him.

A fat and full human soul leads to a fear of losing the gratifying present moment, which in turn gives birth to curses.

“It’s hard to get your attention. What’s your name?”

When Mahito asked, the old man looked into the air for just a second.

“I left that behind. You can call me whatever you like.”

“There are humans without names? Even curses have them.”

“If you don’t meet other people, you don’t need a name.”

“Isn’t it a problem if you don’t have one?”

“When is it a problem?”

“When it’s time to be buried.”

“I don’t need a gravestone with a name. I can just be stuffed into a common grave, or maybe I’ll rot undiscovered and return to the earth that way.”

“Can’t you take a joke?”

“…Was that a joke?”

The old man didn’t laugh. Neither did Mahito.

But Mahito had the feeling that this old man was childish, contrary to his appearance. His lack of attachments created an unsullied disposition that might make him younger than he looked.

His interest in the old man simmered and surged.

It was his first time seeing this type of human, his first time feeling a soul with this form. For Mahito, this was a rare specimen.

What kind of path must life take to make this kind of human? What would be the most intriguing shape to make with a soul like that? What uses could one plan for such a person?

And what kind of curse would be born from them?

With these questions fueling his curiosity, Mahito started to chat with the old man.

“Why are you here?”

“…Why?”

The old man looked up toward the ceiling through his unruly bangs.

His eye sockets were empty, but it seems like even without sight, humans tended to stare into nothing when they were thinking. One curiosity of Mahito’s was satisfied.

“You weren’t born and raised in this tunnel, right? As a human, you must have been in that noisy city.”

“Ah, that. I lived a fairly busy life a long time ago. I inherited the house, worked, made money and supported my family.”

“So you were a human in a pretty good position.”

“In human society, yes. Looking back on it now, it was all meaningless.”

“So... what, you basically started living in a hole like a mouse, then?”

“I did that because I lost everything that I needed up to then. I lost my social status, my money, and a place where I belonged.”

“You lost it all?”

“I was tricked. That’s when my eyes were burned, so I lost my sight then, too.”

Mahito incidentally recalled the company Jogo attacked.

“You got tricked, huh? You seem pretty good-natured about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t care much about being tricked.”

“You’re a weird old man. Is this some kind of hobby where you get your kicks when people deceive you or something?”

“I’m just saying, that’s the kind of person I was back then. The ones who tricked me were my old friend and my wife. My eyes were burned in that so-called “accident”¹; they claimed I wasn’t of sound mind and body after that, and under the guise of caring for me, they stole everything I worked for before I knew it.”

“That’s a pretty flashy way to trick someone, isn’t it? You’re talking like it’s someone else’s problem.”

“Those two loved each other, and I was loved by no one. Knowing that was more monumental to me than being tricked.”

It was hard for Mahito to interpret what the old man said.

Love. Is it really such an important word?

It’s said that curses born from love exist in the world. It seems there are tremendously powerful ones among them, too. But Mahito doesn’t understand how the mechanism by which people love each other is any different from a cat’s attachment to a blanket.

Still, Mahito knows for a fact that people are obsessed with it.

“Didn’t you curse them? The ones who tricked you.”

“Not really.”

“’Not really’, huh. You know, normally a human in that situation would get angry and hold grudges, and it would make the shape of their soul deteriorate.”

“It’s true, though. I don’t think I had the energy to even consider seeking revenge or hurting them.”

“...I get it.”

Mahito nodded, filling in the blanks.

Regardless of whether or not he can guess the trends in human emotion, Mahito has studied many movies, novels and poetry so far.

Then there were the humans he tinkered with. Mahito could put together the pieces he gleaned from those things and use them to break down the old man’s story.

“So basically, you were in despair. So much despair that it was like your soul was about to die. That’s how you broke through the creation of grudges and curses and ended up like this.”

The old man slowly shook his head.

“I may have been disappointed, but I don’t believe I felt the intense despair you’re thinking of.”

“Are ‘disappointment’ and ‘despair’ different?”

“They are; this is just my personal experience.”

The old man raised his face, following the memories.

“There was no burning resentment or turbulent sorrow. It’s just... I was tired, I guess. Between work, assets, reputation, my life situation and duties, dealing with others, caring about the family name... I think I was probably just tired and worn out because of it all.”

“And that’s why you didn’t get mad even after being tricked?”

“I was at peace. They say the soul gets lighter after going through disappointments.”

The old man’s voice was calm.

It had a cool quality to it, like muddy water that had been filtered clean.

“I couldn’t see, I had no money, I had no love... But as I was walking through the city with nothing to my name, it all suddenly became inconsequential. And then, as I looked around, I saw the city in a new light.”

“Even though you can’t see?”

“Yes. When you can’t see anything, it’s just sound and wind that goes on forever anywhere you are. I couldn’t even see the walls blocking the city in. It was just endless darkness spreading out forever, like a starless night. For the first time, I understood how wide the world was. And I thought to myself... ah, I’m free, aren’t I?”

Mahito blinked rapidly.

This old man’s thinking didn’t fit any other case he had gathered so far.

Even hearing about his past, he couldn’t understand the old man’s thoughts.

But even from Mahito’s point of view, the old man was certainly free.

Without so much as leaving the middle of this tunnel, he knew that the sky was vast.

Perhaps he knew it better than any member of high society walking around freely in the city. He knew the wide spread of the sky, the soft caress of the wind, the gentle sounds of the water.

This old man, who looked like a simple rakugoka², had no property or social standing. He even lost his connection to other humans... And maybe that’s precisely why he could uncover the elusive meaning of the word ‘freedom’.

He was just existing, just being alive, without attachments, grudges or curses.

“So basically ‘not all those who wander are lost’?”

“Yes, though quoting Tolkien’s works might be a little tedious.”

Mahito smiled when the man immediately caught the reference to a book he just happened to read.

“Were you a bookworm?”

“All I did was cram a lot of information in.”

“It’s good to be well-read.”

If curses are born from the fear that humans feel, could this old man even be considered human?

As Mahito is, he struggles with the expression of human emotions.

But he was calm.

For the first time since coming into contact with humans, he had a feeling of peace.

“I think if everyone in the world was like you, I wouldn’t have been born.”

Mahito looked back at his book.

The old man, staring into nothing as always, fell silent again.

Curses are born from humans, but they also kill humans. There is no way for the two to coexist.

But in this tunnel, a curse and a human were doing exactly that.

Though distorted, this peaceful period of time flowed by gently.

It’s only natural for humans to hate and fear other humans.

Since they can’t see souls, they can only make guesses about the feelings of others, and they’re swayed by their own emotions.

They don’t understand that these things are just a reflection of the soul’s metabolism. They don’t even know where their soul is.

Mahito investigated the matter.

This blind man lost his sight and his connection to others, so his soul received less stimulation.

And so, no longer influenced by unnecessary things in the physical world, he spent a lot of time facing his inner world and reflecting.

“It’s kind of like a monk’s training. Through strong introversion, a person looks at their soul more often.”

Mahito walked around the city, skimming through a beaten-up copy of the Heart Sutra.

It was a sutra handbook that focused on controlling the soul. It looked like humans of the past did their own research into freeing the soul from the material world.

The old man’s life ended up in a similar state without him setting out to do it on purpose.

That was likely how he learned to feel other souls through the darkness he lived in. Mahito concluded this was the reason he was aware of curses.

“I think he was already predisposed, but... seems like it’s easier for introverted humans to show promise.”

If he gave the old man’s situation even deeper consideration, he could probably make a lot of guesses about a sorcerer’s training. There’s even a way to encourage the first manifestation of cursed energy.

In that case, it should also be possible to take a talented person and ‘make’ them into a sorcerer or curse-user.

Unleashing a curse-user made by a curse onto a sorcerer...

That might be a fun experiment. It’s easier to shake up a human’s soul by having them fight other humans, rather than just exorcising curses. Sukuna’s vessel should be no exception.

Although...

—Maybe it’s fine to do that a little later?

Yes, Mahito thought it over at his leisure.

He is free. When it’s time to move, he moves. When it’s time to rest, he rests.

And he was not in the mood to launch that plan into action.

Rather, for the time being, he just wanted to gather knowledge and indulge in thought. He also got some new books and wanted to read fantasy novels while basking in the quiet comfort of the tunnel.

Mahito’s gait became lighter. While walking alongside the throng of people, he even began to hum.

Suddenly, a loud voice rang out from between two buildings.

“—so damn annoying, yeah?”

Looking over that way, he saw two young humans: a man with long, thin hair, and a muscular skinhead. They were undoubtedly people who looked like trouble.

The long-haired man listened as the skinhead rambled on with his complaints, seemingly in some kind of sullen mood.

“Damn, it’s seriously freezing. Anyway, every last one of ‘em just puts on shitty airs, but it’s all just talk. Nothin’ but excuses. Ah, I wanna kill ‘em all...”

“You say that, but come on. You talk big about wanting to beat these guys to death when you’re pissed, but could you actually kill someone?”

“Sure. Ain’t like killing’s hard.”

“Seriously?”

Mahito squinted and listened, the conversation going in one ear and out the other.

It’s not that he disliked the way they acted or how they spoke bluntly about their heart’s desires. But Mahito knew people like this were all talk.

“Yeah– seriously, anyone’s fine, I just wanna kill someone.”

Then maybe you should do it without saying anything.

Better yet, he thought about practicing some killing methods on them. But Mahito felt the light weight of the book in his hand as he reached out, and he stopped.

Rather than sparing any consideration for this, he just wanted to go back to the comfort of the tunnel and read.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

The skinhead’s grumbling voice sounded like a spell.

But the words would find no power or heart to shelter in. Shut away between these buildings, the most a person can do is talk to themselves. It’s best for humans like this to stick to the narrow back alleys, foolishly thinking they’re enjoying a wide world.

Mahito averted his gaze and made his way back home.

“Why did Gregor become a bug?”

Mahito suddenly asked the old man, not taking his eyes off the novel.

It was a famous book by Franz Kafka.

A story in which a human unexpectedly turns into a poisonous insect.

“The most popular theory is that the bug is a metaphor.”

“Metaphor?”

“It means he was a person who was hated and oppressed within society, treated the same way a human would treat a bug. Kind of like an old man who was suddenly blinded and tricked one day.”

“Is that a joke?”

“Not exactly.”

It was detached and dispassionate, but an answer would come back any time Mahito said something. When conversing with the old man, it felt like talking to a dictionary. He had a lot of information.

He knew about things like the inner workings of the mind and human culture, and he was smart enough to explain it simply in discussions.

For Mahito, who analyzed human souls through books and movies, this old man’s knowledge and conversation helped in its own way.

When do humans get angry? Why do they grieve?

How do they trust and in what ways are they betrayed?

Mahito lived with a different sense of ethics when compared to humans, so there were many things he struggled to interpret. The old man explained them and helped him understand.

He had a strong interest in the experiences of the old man, who had once lived among humans but didn’t act like them.

“After becoming a bug, Gregor eventually hid away like he was told to, but he still ended up being spotted and it led to his death. Jii-san³, why do you think that is?”

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

“That’s a quote from Virginia Woolf, right?”

When Mahito immediately and correctly guessed the source, the old man raised a brow slightly.

“You’re a pretty avid reader, too. Conversations with you are really stress-free.”

“Do you have to go back to living with other humans, then?”

“If you don’t have any attachment to the human world, there’s no need to run from it or stand against it⁴.”

“I see,” Mahito murmured to let the other know he was listening, eyes still on the book.

Even if he wasn’t looking at it, the old man’s perpetually calm soul was aglow in the dark like always.

Mahito read his book in the dim room lit by the brilliance of that soul instead of a candle.

Time quietly flowed through the darkness.

Outside of the tunnel, signs indicating the end of summer crept up.

The end came abruptly.

One day, when Mahito was heading back to the tunnel with an abandoned poetry anthology that he picked up on an aimless walk through the city, he felt a noisiness that shouldn’t have been there.

There were one, two, three swaying souls.

One had a very familiar shape, but it was terribly frail. It was like the dying flame of a candle weakened by the wind.

With the same unchanging gait as always, Mahito stepped into the tunnel.

As expected, the old man was there.

But the unusual thing was the crumpled, strange position that he was in.

He was also sandwiched between two younger men who were looking down at him.

“Oooi, isn’t this bad? Did this guy seriously die?”

A man with long, thin hair spoke in a tone that was not particularly anxious.

“Didn’t I say it? I said I could kill,” a muscular skinhead replied, his voice casual.

“But ain’t this just impulsive?”

“Yeah, well, the old man had some real cheek, looking down on us when he’s this weak. So why not just kick him?”

The skinhead likely played sports, given that his legs were as thick around as logs. Kicking an old man to death would be easier than crushing a can.

The two didn’t seem to have a single scrap of interest in the old man, his life or his soul.

There was no reason, no grudge, no clear murderous intent.

It seemed like they simply arrived at the tunnel somehow. They took the opportunity to do as much violence as they wanted. They beat him on a whim.

It could be said that this way of being is freedom for humans.

Mahito crouched down, peeking at the old man’s face.

The beaten visage of the man with burned eyes came into view. But even at a time like this, his expression was as calm as always.

“Are you going to die?”

Mahito searched for even a mumbled word or two in response.

“...Seems so...”

The old man answered in a hoarse voice. He likely barely had the power left to speak now. It appeared as though the two men didn’t hear him over their loud conversation.

He intently inspected the old man’s soul.

The peaceful soul was not flickering, nor did it hold anger or grief; it was simply coming to an unhurried end.

Mahito was impressed.

This old man had found the true meaning of freedom. He really was released from every tie of obligation in this world. Even on the verge of death, that didn’t change.

Being able to make sure of that with his own two eyes, Mahito felt considerably relieved. In the same way he would watch a flower wither and fall, he observed the old man’s death.

Nevertheless...

“Jii-san?”

He had a feeling.

It’s like seeing a plot twist you don’t want to see if you keep turning the pages of a book.

Or like knowing the contents of a present before you open it.

That kind of buzz spread through Mahito’s chest.

While he puzzled over the instinctive alarm bells screaming at him to stop watching, everything was heading toward its end.

“...I thought I would die alone.”

The old man’s soul dimly flickered.

A smile was on his swollen face.

“...To have someone... here to witness this old fool’s last moments...”

The flicker might have been insignificant, like a single drop breaking the water’s surface. Even so, for an instant near death, at the end of it all...

The old man’s soul ‘metabolized’.

“...Tha...nk... y...”

The old man died smiling.

“. . .”

Mahito’s eyes opened wide, and for a moment, he was frozen.

He thought the old man was different when compared to other humans. To Mahito, he seemed unfettered.

Mahito thought the unique philosophical views stemming from such an extraordinary state of mind had freed him from all the shackles of this world.

But despite all of that, the old man was still captured right in his last moments.

On the brink of death, he clung to someone else so he could avoid a lonely end.

The old man was only human.

For a human, it was likely satisfying enough. Perhaps it was even the proper way for one to die.

“. . .”

Mahito said nothing.

But what felt like a dry wind blew through his chest, leaving him cold.

He didn’t know the name humans gave that emotion. But his consciousness was like yarn tangling in on itself, wriggling around like a worm—

And suddenly, it all cut off at once.

The only thing left behind was the sensation of standing in a dry and barren wasteland.

“—So basically,” the skinhead’s voice echoed. “Police probably won’t do a proper investigation. Not for this old nobody.”

“Hey, hey, hey; that’s still a person,” the long haired man answered lightly.

“Yeah, well, that guy started it.”

“He shoulda looked at who he was talking to before he picked a fight.”

“Anyway, my pants are dirty from all that kicking... That’s a problem.”

“So fussy. That’s what you’re worried about when you just killed a guy? How funny.”

“That ain’t a person. Anyway, don’t you know I like being clean? Ahh, the blood won’t come off... Water doesn’t do any good, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t – but more importantly, if you’ve settled down, I’m hungry. Let’s stop by a convenience store.”

“I dunno. If you’re gonna look, buy a bento and let’s get outta here.”

Mahito quickly stood up in the same way one would when they finished looking for something in a store.

A sense of fatigue was deeply ingrained in his body.

Their incoherent voices persisted, reverberating through the tunnel, smeared with excuses and attempts to escape reality. He couldn’t hear the soft burble of the stream.

With deep-seated listlessness, Mahito approached the skinhead as one would move to pick up fallen trash.

Idle Transfiguration. The technique spreads quickly.

And thus, the moment he tapped the man’s back, its shape was no longer human.

“Ee—!!”

If he just killed them, it would create a nuisance in the form of a corpse, so he simply folded it up into something palm-sized and kept it alive.

Then, with a careless sweep⁵ of his hand, he folded up the other man as well.

“Begh—”

It fell silent.

Mahito gathered up the two, now no bigger than chess pieces, and turned his attention down toward the remaining corpse of the old man.

It was now just a bag of meat full of bones. Not even the soul remained, so he couldn’t use Idle Transfiguration to fiddle with it.

He was briefly troubled by its disposal, which served as the biggest inconvenience.

In the tunnel, there nothing but the sound of running water.

It was a day where the sky seemed farther away than usual.

Clouds peeked out from around the buildings and a good feeling was carried in on the wind.

Mahito aimlessly walked about the city.

“Maybe I’ll catch a movie. It’s been ages.”

He picked a tiny, somewhat old-looking theater and snuck in.

He’s had high motivation lately, and it seemed like some unnecessary things had peeled away from his soul, leaving him more carefree than ever.

Thanks to that, he had also begun to toy with humans more often.

If he can fold a person up and make them small, he wanted to test out inflating one instead, but he slept on the idea overnight. It was pretty fun, but he knew that he was getting too absorbed. He also felt that carrying on with too much persistence wasn’t a good thing.

A change of pace every now and then was fine, too.

He hadn’t closely checked to see what was being screened. It was mostly just plain and obscure movies, but if one went in with no expectations, they might come across a surprisingly interesting tale.

Curiously, he had that kind of a feeling.

While walking through the hall of the theater, he casually felt through his pocket, which had grown bulky with the ‘small humans’ that he had touched.

—Speaking of which, he thought that was a nuisance.

He carelessly tossed some of them away.

Opening the door, he stepped into the theater.

Perhaps because it was a weekday, there weren’t many customers. The silhouettes of what appeared to be students filled out a few seats here and there.

From where Mahito stood in the corner, he had a good view of the screen.

Soon, instead of a curtain raising, the theater was engulfed in darkness.

T/N: [1] In this sentence, the implication is that the “accident” was very much orchestrated by the old man’s friend and wife, who burned his eyes somehow and then merely made it look like an accident [2] The rakugoka is the storyteller in rakugo, a form of (often) comedic theater that relies solely on spoken word from the rakugoka, who only uses a fan and hand towel as props [3] A way of referring to old men in general, basically like “gramps/grandpa”; Mahito never calls him by an actual name [4] Essentially, the old man’s saying that he (or anyone) can exist parallel to human society without interacting if they have no attachments to it and can still find peace, contrary to the Woolf quote [5] Kanji reads sweep, furigana reads cleanse (the same word for exorcism that sorcerers use)

Thanks as well to Pixi for help with editing and tl checks! If an officially translated version of the novel becomes available in your country, please consider purchasing it, or consider buying a copy of the original novel in Japanese if possible!

#jujutsu kaisen #mahito #mahito jujutsu kaisen #mahito jjk #jogo jjk #hanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen light novel #translation #departing summer and returning autumn

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yanderenightmare · 3 years

Note

If this isn't allowed I'm super sorry, but could I request Enji with a (Male/GN) darling that's scared of him. Like he always thought Enji was super scary as a hero and now that they're captured, he can't even stand to be around Enji without shaking or crying.

YANDERE ! ENJI TODOROKI x MALE ! READER

This is not what you asked for… I’m sorry this is all just… absolute filth… I got too excited, hope you like, sorry if some of these themes are triggering

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, degradation, feminization, spit-fetish, Enji being an ass, yandere, profanity, abuse, anxiety, manipulation, misogyny

FEAR

He doesn’t know exactly how to explain what replaces Enji’s presence when he leaves for work in the morning. He wants to say that it feels good, that it’s a relief, but that would be a bittersweet lie that leaves him feeling guiltier than it should, because when Enji’s not there to fill the space of the giant mansion, all that’s left is cold tiles, soundless rooms, and somehow… a lack of safety. He thought about it while finishing cleaning the second to last room, dreading entering the next, knowing how he’d find nothing there, just more emptiness, just more stale unmoving shadows on walls, more cold, more void, more loneliness, more fear.

He needed to shower before Enji got home. Enji would bathe with him later in the day too, but it would be after… after they played. He’d been talking and teasing that very soon he was going to be doing more than just sucking cock. Yesterday, he was made to sit on Enji’s face for half an hour, all while Enji fisted his own cock furiously in the same beat he lapped at the tiny budding butthole so ripe for the taking on top of him. But, he hadn’t done it, he hadn’t pushed a finger inside, he had barely wormed his tongue into the hole, only made to suck on it, before pushing him off and down into the sheet so he could cum all over his pretty little face, his white thick seed running and mixing in with fat globs of tears. But today, he wasn’t sure if Enji would still spare him being impaled on his fat thick monstrous pole. The thought had him nearly whining as he removed his clothes, padding over the clean reflective cold marble floors to step into the shower that seemed so strangely massive without being filled with both himself and Enji’s intimidating build.

It was as though he could already feel Enji’s warm hands holding onto his hips, steadying him as he was sure he would be uncontrollably quaking. It was as though he could already feel it filling him up, lifting him off the ground, off his feet, hauling him up into the air.

He turned the temperature too high to imitate what heat Enji would emit when thrusting into him, the shower-droplets stinging on his reddening skin. It hurt, but he needed to prepare himself, only physically if not mentally. He wiped a hand up between his butt-cheeks, stroked a finger over his hole a couple of times, teased to see if he at all wanted to slip it inside. He whimpered upon facing the inevitable fact that Enji’s massive thick pole would soon push inside him, push all the way inside him, fill him up so snugly and painfully and inescapably, holding him still as he crammed himself inside, probably even chuckling that gruesome snicker when seeing how he would try and wiggle out of his death-grip.

Enji is too big for it to possibly feel good, it’d be too painful, too painful to feel anything else, except fear. Fear would always survive. Fear of choking to death on his cock filling up his tight throat, more so than the pain of it actually happening. Fear of the feisty flames licking his skin more so than realizing how they only tickle not sear. Fear of being trapped, so much so he forgets to humor the idea of running, of fighting, of saying no. Fear of how he was going to be impaled, split in two on the hero’s cock before the day let up.

His own size wasn’t bad, but probably not what one would call impressive. He wondered if Enji would ever ask for him to penetrate him in turn. If… perhaps he could bargain to do that instead of the other way around, but he knew that was a foolish thought. He didn’t want to touch it, even as he felt it twitch against his stomach, because he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to touch it while Enji fucked him. Instead, he pushed one finger inside the comfort of his ass, worming the digit inside the tight space, his forehead soon pushing against the shower-wall to steady himself while he tried to get deeper. It was nowhere near what would be happening later, he knew that, but with the thought, the imagery of what would no doubt be happing later, it still managed to make his toes curl. The thought of Enji’s large warm gravely hand coming to stroke up and down his cock while penetrating him from behind, the sounds of his husky gruff voice huffing and grunting into his ear, letting him know what a perfect little pet he is.

He felt ashamed, and so utterly confused. How come he still turned on, even with the amount of fear and trepidation that pumped the boiling blood through his system? Why wasn’t he pissing himself instead of standing there, fingering his own hole, fantasizing about how much pain he was going to be in later, and getting off on the fact? Was it true what Enji had said? Was he really a submissive little masochist that would soon be worshipping the ground Enji walked on?

The questions were answered as he felt himself explode all too abruptly onto the glass, seeing his cum splattered onto the dewy steamed wall, watching it run down, creating paths that were slowly being washed away by the ongoing spritz of the showerhead.

He made then to shave his chest first, then the rest, all the rest, everything except the hair on his head, he knew Enji wouldn’t be pleased with anything but perfection, and even though the razor nicked him in sensitive places he was still extra careful to not miss a single spot, going over the same area several times to achieve complete smoothness. He turned the water too cold to stop the bleeding and to ease what soreness and irritation had been awoken by the activity, muscles tensing and flexing under the pressure, thinking that perhaps the freeze would encourage getting dressed… though he doubted it.

He got dressed slowly, having to talk himself down from crying as he clasped the lacy white bralette on, dragging it into position even though it had no real position on his chest. Then the dress. Splayed out so prettily on the bed, Enji’s declaration. White and patterned with pink poppies, a real housemaid’s frilly skirt and sweetheart neckline and thin shoulder-straps and everything pretty and dainty and feminine, one that worked so perfectly as an underdress for an apron.

The dress was nice and all, nicer than most things he’d ever worn before, but the apron was a real work of art. Frills decorating the edges, sweet swirls and flowery embroidery working its way up the white cloth, still with white thread, looking handmade yet with precision and delicacy. The stocking matched to some degree yet not carrying the same ornate expensive-feel to them, also adorned with a frilly edge were the sock stopped mid-leg. The shoes were plain enough: white with an easy button-over contraption, only slightly high-heeled, yet high enough to make that clicking errand sound when he walked across the marble floors each time Enji rung his service-bell, calling on him from where he sat on his knees with his hands folded neatly in his lap, supposed to wait patiently at Enji’s every beck and call, even though the large man was only a few meters away with a voice that could easily reach him no matter which room he found himself in the mansion, Enji insisted on using the bell. Loving to see how the boy skittered to his feet, hands running timid fingers to smooth over the fabric of his apron, shoes clicking together at the heels. His wintry voice so fragile and scared half to death as he answers Enji’s steely cyan glare: “Yes, Daddy?” His eyes falling sullenly to the floor to watch the cute rounded curve of his glossy shoes instead of looking to meet the fiery yet ice-cold eyes of his captor.

He avoided the mirror, even though he knew he should look over himself one more time for Enji’s sake, or for his own. He was given no boxer, no underwear, no measly thong, nothing, and therefore was subjugated to walk the empty halls in his flowing skirt with the cold air wafting in between his legs, kissing his limp cock each time he made a swift step, his shoes clicking, clicking, clicking, like the clock counting down the minutes until Enji came home.

“Welcome home, Daddy.” He needed to force himself to smile. Crooked in its execution, broken, yet still a smile, a smile Enji was pleased with as he kicked off his shoes, even happier to see him bow down to pick the pair up and place them neatly in the stacked shoe-compartments, despite the stink of them being drenched in sweat after his day of patrolling. His cock was already growing heavy with hunger. “How was your da-” He wasn’t given the time to answer before Enji wrapped both his hands around his waist from the back, slotting his massive warm hard chest against what felt like his paper-thin back, but he didn’t need to be able to carry Enji’s weight as he did most of the lifting himself.

A gravely sigh erupted from the man’s chest, rumbling against the boy’s back. “It’s so nice coming home to someone so appreciative and sweet.” He mumbled up against his spine, nose gliding up his neck, followed by a heavy inhale, breathing in the scent of the shampoo he’d told him to use, seemingly content as he pushed his crotch better against his ass. “I’ve tried getting hard for that slut breeding-cow all month…” Of course, his little experiments. He was a good fuck, but he couldn’t carry children, and producing children, or rather heirs, was something Enji and his fucked-up need to be number one was obsessed with. “You should see her, fucking begging for my cock, like my cock is her god. Pathetic.” He was glad he didn’t have the ability to get pregnant. He could only imagine what those wives of his were feeling, so insignificant, only a means to an end… but… that was rather what he was too. “And you just look at me and my cock is already twitching.” He smelled him again, nose blaring, hands trailing over the fabric of his apron and dress to feel up his thighs, grabbing at them before guiding him out of the entrance and into the living room. “Strip.”

It seemed so unnecessary for him to even be wearing clothes at all when they always ended up on the floor, especially such intricate clothes as well that needed to be removed with elegance and not shaky unsure fingers like his. But that was rather the point. It was a show, he guessed as he reached behind his back to undo the bow of the apron. A rather clunky graceless strip-tease, he mused when the apron fell unceremoniously to the floor, the dress following shortly after.

That was it, he’d learned, the rest Enji wanted to do on his own. He couldn’t understand how a man could still look so intimidating even when on his knees removing his shoes. Large, large hands cupping the small clothed feet, unclasping the buttons and sliding them out of their enclosure. He left the socks on this time, they were going to be part of the show, them and the bralette, and nothing else.

“Bend, I want to see that perfect little ass of yours.” His voice would be casual if it weren’t for the dripping boiling-hot lust that stuck to his tongue as he spun his toy around and pushed him over the back of the white couch, liking how it was too tall to meet his hips for a proper bend and instead aided in lifting him up on the very tips of his toes. He licked his lips, tugging on the crotch of his pants.

Scorching fingers grabbed the ample flesh of his ass, kneading it up like dough before he felt the wet sludge off his tongue gliding a trail up his spine, only stopping once he came to his neck where he began kissing wet, so very wet, drooling kisses up behind his ear. Again, inhaling through his nose as his clothed cock nuzzled neatly between his presented ass, humping into the welcoming heat.

“You smell good, did you shower like I asked...” Asked? They both knew it wasn’t a request, but yet he nodded his head from where he felt the blood beginning to pool where he was resting on the sofa-cushions upside-down. “Such a good pet.” His hips curved into him so he pushed his bulge up into his plushie backside, hands rubbing circles into his midriff, pulling him back to meet his mellow thrusts. “Is your throat still sore from choking on my cock?” His fingers, laid steadily on the softness of the couch, bending to grip the surface in order to hold himself back from crying. “Answer when you’re spoken to, pet.” Enji sounded bored, slightly bitter as he pressed his growing cock harder into his breakable little hostage.

He felt the tears begin to fall despite his efforts. “Sorry.” He pipped, half his face now buried in the couch. “My throat is fine, thank you for asking.” Enji’s hand went back to carelessly wandering, instead of gripping his hips so harshly.

“Good, I’m glad.” The statement didn’t seem heartfelt. “Spread your legs. Give me your hands.” His suspicion was answered through the heartless commands, Enji didn’t care.

He moved his feet away as much as he could without losing contact with the floor, which wasn’t really far at all, but he guessed Enji would steer him into the right position when the urge fell over him. Letting go of his grip on the couch-cushions proved more difficult as he was left sinking even further into the plushie surface without any support, yet he still managed, bending his elbows to fold his arms on his back, making it easier for Enji’s massive hand to grip both his wrists at the same time.

“I’ve been looking forward to taking this ass for so long…” He groaned, his hand giving the ass a rough squeeze. “Perhaps that’s why that slut can’t get me hard anymore, since I know what a perfect little pet I have waiting for me at home.” It was as though he used the fat of his ass as a handle to pull him up, lifting him briefly off the couch before dropping him back down again, hearing him give a little yelp at the action, again causing him to groan in satisfaction as he bumped his erection into where it fit so perfectly between his ass-cheeks. “I’ve been waiting so patiently… and so have you.” Enji mused, as though the boy at his mercy was having any of the same cravings. “I think today is the day we both get our reward.” Enji pulled on his wrists, dragging him off the couch, his feet meeting the cold floors again and quickly yanked into Enji’s hard chest. “I know you’re excited, but let’s get you to the bedroom first.” He taunted when he gave another squeal, looking up to see Enji’s unforgivingly hungry cerulean gaze, having tears and fears and swirling panic brimming in his own. “Wipe those tears, you can comfort yourself with having your face stuffed, use my cock like a pacifier.” The comment did far from comfort him, instead evoking a whimper as he swallowed thickly in a way of suppressing the hiccup that wanted to hitch in his throat at the dark promise.

He must have blacked out or zoned out or something alike it as a form of preparing himself for Enji, for when he came to he was upstairs, already placed on the bed, on his knees, in front of a naked Enji and large thighs made up of pure muscle and scares, and hair. Then of course the centerpiece, Enji’s large intimidating cock standing proudly up against his ripped stomach, with its angry mushroom-shaped swollen head puckering right into his face.

Enji’s hand rubbed lazily over the tip, smearing what precum had already beaded in the slit. Yet, he wasn’t given too long to just stand and admire it as Enji’s other massive hand come up to grip the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his short locks to form a better hold, pulling him down to level with the beast, pushing him further, head mushed and buried to cuddle with the manhood. Enji’s hips leaning in on repeat to meet how his hand pushed his face against the sensitivity of his sex, balls slightly swinging up against his chin.

“Come on, use your tongue.” Enji didn’t waste any time, starting to pull at the roots of his hair in order to frighten him into obeying. He succeeded, as the boy opened his mouth and laid his tongue out flat to taste the salty skin it was pressed against. “Lick from the base.” Enji commanded and the boy listened, dragging his tongue up with the guidance of Enji’s hand steering the back of his head up the entire length of his cock. Pulling him slightly away from the activity, making the boy wince at the sharp stinging off his roots being yanked. Enji’s other hand gripping the base of the giant pole to tap it in a slapping fashion against the lips that seemed so welcoming and warm, the boy shutting his eyes allowing some more tears to drip from where they had been welling. “Open up.” He did as he was told, lips parting to accommodate for Enji’s weeping cockhead. “There you go, taste me.” He groaned as he pushed his head further onto his cock, traveling into his mouth, filling him up and prodding at the back of his throat. The boy knew better than to think he was any less than half-way done, yet he couldn’t hold back the reflex of gagging. Not that Enji paid any mind to the complaint, only placing his other hand to control his chin as he continued nudging himself deeper, sinking down his throat. “Come on, swallow all of me, I want to feel that cute nose buried in my belly with your tongue licking my balls.”

He tried relaxing his throat, choking his length and girth down and down, sniveling as he held back the urge to pull away, knowing how the hand Enji placed at the back of his head wouldn’t allow him to move anyway.

His eyes traveled backwards when the lightheadedness of being barely able to breath got to him, which was when Enji let up, freeing him as both hands took their leave from holding him steady. “Such a good pet, do as your told.”

He coughed into the bedsheets while Enji’s hand pet over his head, his own fingers tightly gripping the fabric beneath, knuckling the textile into his palm, trying to compose himself before his head was guided to look back up at Enji again, who seemed to tower over him even though the both of them were on their knees, though the boy was rather bowing for the giant red-headed man.

Enji’s fat fingers came to pry open his mouth, pushing past everything with little regard. “Suck these fingers for me.” Shoving the digits down his throats and fucking the soreness for a while before retracting them. “Spit in my palm.” He didn’t argue, unless the sniffling cough he gave were to be considered a protest, before spitting all the saliva his mouth had produced when being attacked by the mass that filled him up before. “Get back on that cock.”

Again, he didn’t waste any time, adamant on making sure Enji knew that there was no need for him to be using his hands to force himself down his throat as he guzzled down on his length, bobbing up and down with his head, letting him kiss the back of his throat as he glugged with his lips forming a tight circle around his girth, using his tongue to slide out to cover what areas of his cock he couldn’t reach when swallowing him down at the pace he was going. Desperately trying to please the beast.

Enji gave no warning, pushing his fat digit into his puckering hole from where he was being such a good boy with sucking him down like he’d asked. Filling and stretching his little ass, dragging an adorable whine from his throat, a whine Enji received on his cock, the unrestrained voice giving nice little tremors to vibrate alongside his girth, settling somewhere at the tip of his cock before traveling down into his heavy balls, making him buck deeper into his face. “Wouldn’t want that cute butt to get lonely while I fuck this pretty face.” He explained, as he sank the finger even further into his ass, listening to him mewl a panicked whine around his cock, simply fucking even deeper into his face, hand clasping around the back of his head to better rut into his skull, finger roughly stretching out the tender tight muscles from behind.

He cursed gruffly once he let up, admiring as his pet drooled and spluttered to breath at the absence of his cock in his mouth, spit slobbering down his chin and landing in thick puddles dampening the bedsheets beneath them.

“Look at me.” He whimpering as Enji once again grabbed a tight hold on his chin, rough fingertips planted into his cheeks, sliding in saliva as he forced him to look up, lifting him upright, so much so his hands needed to leave their station on the bed in favor of supporting himself against Enji’s chest or else he’d simply be held up by Enji hand like a noose. “Open that mouth up.” He did his best to comply with the demand with how his hand seemed to pressure his jaw shut, though he managed, having his cheeks squeezed and lips puckering like a duck out towards him, a perfect parted hole he could aim and spit right into. “Swallow that for me pet.” It came as a shock having Enji’s warm liquid shot onto his tongue but he quickly recovered, letting it slide down his jugular before he swallowed. “Good boy. What do you say?” He could feel him quenching his pride and all hopes of fighting back in the whimper that ran up beneath his fingers on his throat.

“Thank you, Daddy.” There was no spite in the words, just wholehearted defeat and surrender, and the potency of it all sprung right to Enji’s ego, making his attention-craving cock throb with neediness.

“Good pet.” Hand tightened around his throat to lift him even higher up to meet with his face, kissing his slick face roughly, stiff lips setting the motion, bloated lips following suite, before the hand around his throat once again took advantage of its power and threw him back down on his hands and knees. “Now finish your meal.” The statement held nothing but hungry cruelty, followed by a long blob of spit dripping slowly from his tongue onto his cock, sliding down its length. “Lick it up.” Unsure eyes looked up through stinging saltwater, finding no hint of mercy, encouraging him to do what he was told before earning himself a punishment. Mouth promptly taking the large cock into his mouth again, yet he felt the sting of a slap to his cheek all the same. “I said lick, not suck.” He resisted the urge to soothe the red stinging flesh of his cheek and did as he was corrected, tongue lapping up the underside of the angry cock in his face. “Yes… good… there you go.” He was praised, and though it made his stomach sink, he also felt relief, for at least praise was far away from disappointment and the punishment that followed such a resolution.

What followed was simply Enji’s rumbling groans and moans as his fingers played with the short locks of hair at the back of his head, somewhat steering where his head would go, how far away and how up close and personal, whether to suffocate him with cock or not. He compliantly slurped up and down his length with his tongue hanging out from his mouth, spit dribbling down his chin, down his neck, dropping to the bedsheets beneath them, before Enji groaned again, this time signaling that he was bored, hands yanking him away from the wet activity.

“Lie down on your back.” He wasn’t given much freedom to do so on his own as he was pushed down and kept down as Enji swung his leg over his chest where he laid beneath him, trapping face between his thick deadly hairy thighs, threatening to squish his head until it popped from the pressure. “Open your mouth up pretty.” He gaped, feeling the slick of Enji’s balls slide on his chest as he sat down on top of him, pushing much air from out of his breakable ribcage and the lungs beneath. Cock laid between his nipples, cockhead touching his chin. Again, a blob of his spit met his tongue, accompanied by a light playful slap against his cheek. “Keep it open.” He couldn’t hold up to Enji’s command as rough fingers pulled at his sensitive nipples, squeezing them and tugging at them through the thin lacy fabric of his bralette, rubbing on them, making him whine in discomfort, yet with his hands locked to his side underneath the contraption of Enji’s thighs, he was given no room to fight back. “So pretty.” Enji admired, tweaking the nibs tenderly as he rocked his hips forwards, cock sliding up and down his chest, balls squished against him, before he sat up again, kneeling with his cock and balls hovering over him, threatening to sit down and suffocate him while riding his face.

Enji gripped his cock and tugged it up and down to dance his balls on the pretty face beneath him, though the wet cavern he wanted to dip into shut into a thin line before he could.

“I said keep your mouth open.” He growled and the boy was reminded of the former command, promptly opening wide. “Tongue out, play with these balls, Pretty.” His tongue rolled out, at once met with the size of Enji’s nuts as they slid up and down his wet muscle. “You get to decide today: do you want a face full of cum or do you want me to fill that belly up?” He wasn’t given much air to retort with his mouth being filled with cock and balls, Enji’s hand resting on his forehead to keep him perfect and still for his manhood to abuse. “Come on, pick one.” He made him gag as he forced his entire pole down his throat, allowing him no chance to reply. “That’s fine, you can have both since you’re so spoiled.” Again, he stuffed his mouth with his balls, making him gargle and suckle on them, before he took his shaft in one hand and slapped the side of his face, liking how his eyes squeezed even tighter shut at the sharp contact. His face covered in spit and smeared with precum, slick and glossy, with pretty wet lashes. “Let’s paint that face first.” He slapped his face with the weight of his cock again, before placing it on the middle, balancing the slug on his lips and nose, resting between the bridge between his eyes, chin buried in his ball-sack. “Smile for me, smile for Daddy.”

He forced on a broken uncomfortable smile where he laid beneath the brute man, eyes still kept shut. Enji smeared what oozing precum had breached his tip onto his lips, as though requesting him to open up, which he did, being met with the entire mass of his cock stuffing his mouth, tickling the back of his throat as he fucked into his face.

“Swallow me down, Pretty. Stay right there.” He choked and gagged at the feel of him continuously pushing into the tight canal of his throat, yet wasn’t allowed to move as Enji’s hand still balanced his head by tugging at the hairs over his forehead, pushing him into place. He coughed and spluttered desperately once Enji let go, though was given minimum time to collect himself again before Enji gave another growling and ruggedly desperate command. “Smile.”

He fisted his length in his palm, finger rubbing over the tip, pumping furiously into the face beneath him before thick ropes of white cream came shooting out of the tip, hot and wet and sticky when it landing all over his face, running down his cheek, into his mouth, letting him taste bittersweet salt on his tongue.

Enji continued rubbing himself, though slower now, eyes scrunched close as he held onto the euphoric feeling of exploding, feeling himself gradually and too quickly for his liking, coming down from the high, though as he opened his eyes and looked down at what pretty artwork he’d made on his pet’s face he found that he was far from finished.

“What do you say?” His hand’s movements were slow and calculating as he rubbed himself tenderly, without rush.

“Thank you, Daddy.” He hiccupped, relieved to get some rest even as the stench of Enji aided in his discomfort, feeling his stickiness begin to dry on his skin. The rest didn’t last long though as Enji’s cockhead bumped into his lips, demanding he open up to take him inside his mouth again.

“Clean the tip.” He sucked on the mushroom-head, tongue swiping up to clean out the weeping slit. “Such a hungry spoiled pet. Does Daddy taste good?”

He let go with a pop to answer, knowing it was better to just play along. “Mmh, yes, Daddy.” He kissed the head, strings of slime connecting his lips to the thick pole. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Enji reached his hand behind him to find the perky perfect nipples he played with before, pulling at the nib to retract an open-mouthed whine from the boy, allowing him full access to the welcoming wet hole. “Suck some more, get all your spit out on me, get my cock nice and ready for your little butt.” He felt him whine and whimper on his cock at the sound of his words, the panic feeling delicious as it came out like vibrations tickling alongside his length, settling in his balls as he once again fucked into his little face, with him having no chance of escaping, being trapped so perfectly between his thighs. But, his face had gotten used and abused enough, and it was high time he buried himself balls-deep in the no doubt tight hole of his ass and fucked him into a crippled stupid mess.

“Come on, up on your knees.” Strong hands grabbed his hips as he moved off of him, dragging him up into position before he even knew what was happening, with no strength of his own to support himself, falling face first into the pillow to rest, an agonizingly cute display to the man standing behind him, lining him up. “Little boy is gonna get his ass stuffed by Daddy.” He started to jerk himself off, holding his hip and pulling him close. The hand ascending to his mouth so that he could spit into his palm, gathering wetness before grabbing the limp cock of his pet in his massive warm hand, resulting in the boy jolting out of his resting pose, surprised by the sudden touch of his sensitive member. Though he was pushed back down again by Enji’s other hand, it having left his own cock leaving it to rest between his ass-cheeks. “No, no.” He scolded. “Posture, Babyboy, face down in your pillow.” The massive hand pet over his head, pressuring him to simply lie there and take it. “Get this ass up.” He corrected his stance by pulling his hip up into position, back arching like a cat stretching, ass pulled close into Enji’s crotch. “Hands on your back, give me those hands.” He fished for the limp arms, folding them behind his back, letting go once he was assured the boy knew to listen to the order. “Now spread those knees.” Enji took hold of his thighs and shuffled his knees further to the side, the boy feeling the wetness of cold spit on the sheets, as Enji continued stroking the cock between his thighs so lovingly and tenderly, rubbing over the sensitive tender velvety cockhead again and again, feeling him leaning back and shivering under the touch. “There we go, perfect.” The hand pressed against his back dragged down his spine slowly, before it stopped to cup the ample soft dome of flesh, his thumb swiping over the unprotected tight butthole, all ready for the taking, helpless and broken and all his. “Are you excited?” Enji shuffled back on his knees, giving a quick glance over the perfect ass in front of him to inspect the face that was neatly and snuggly squished against the pillow, happy to see the pretty concoction of fear, surrender and anticipation displayed on his face, just like a submissive pet should look.

He shuddered as he felt Enji’s warm breath on his ass, the exposed sensitive ring of tender flesh slightly burning at the feeling.

“No one’s ever taken this ass before, have they?” The statement was rhetorical as he already knew the answer and was instead a gesture made simply to gloat, as it was followed by a satisfactory hum and a set of warm wet lips pressing a sloppy kiss onto the puckering opening, hand still jerking his cock, having him shivering for him. “You’re all nice and ripe for me?” Another wet kiss was placed at the entrance, though this time the lips remained tightly locked, mouth sucking on the skin, tongue laid out flat as he dragged the rough rigid texture up over the hole, before poking through the sensitive rim, pumping the fat wet muscle in and out of the tightness. He let go with a smacking pop, lips quitting their suction.

His thighs were shaking by the end of it, his cock still held firmly in Enji’s hand, allowing him no room to move away, in fear he might just rip his dick off. Enji balanced his own cock between the perfect set of plump ass-cheeks raised up for him. Putting his thumb into his mouth before he once again rubbed it over the now wet hole, pushing through the tight rings of muscle to bury the digit inside. “So tight.” Came his rugged breath as he groaned, beginning to rock his hips forward while pulling the boy back to meet him by the thumb he had hooked inside him, his thighs meeting with the back of his ass, as his cock stroked through the crack, where large heavy balls clapped against smaller ones.

The thumb was removed, though not the hand handling his cock as he was left drooling into the pillow he was pressed against, his own hands going numb where he’d managed to keep them perfectly folded behind his back. Though the absence of the thick thumb was soon replaced, doubled even, as two fingers sank into the hole, promptly curling them, forcing him to whine like a cat, a moan so wet it stuck in the drool in his throat. He whimpered as the digits parted from each-other inside him, stretching him out, before pumping them in and out slowly, working the tightness.

Enji groaned at the sound of the boy’s measly whimpers, wet and pathetic, perfect. “I think your pretty ass is ready.” He gripped his cock, tugging on it up against his stomach, spitting onto the glistening wet hole presented to him, the one he was soon going to plant himself deep within. He slowly and carefully, taking his precious time, as though savoring it, lined his manhood up at the puckered opening, gently pushing his twitching cock into the back entrance, forcing a cry out of the smaller creature at his mercy. “That’s so tight…” He moaned, closing his eyes, focusing on the tight snug fit pressing around his cockhead, hugging him close. His fingers had definitely made it easier to enter, but it wasn't enough to make it easy by any means. “Does it feel good?” The tone was patronizing, as though he was talking to a child, looking over at the drooling mess he was burying himself inside, feeling his butt twitch around the fatness of his tip, as though sucking on it. “Want me deeper?” He started slowly sliding in inch by agonizing inch. Breaching each ring of muscles that surrounded his fat length. “All the way?” Watching as his hard sex disappeared into the ample ass until he was completely engulfed. The view alone had him pulsing inside.

One hand steadied the ass, making it easier to sink into place without any interruptions or split-second fearful protests, acting as a represent and fear-tactic, threatening to land a sharp painful smack against the soft flesh if he were to go against what Enji had made clear was going to happen one way or the other. The other hand had more or less the same purpose, where it laid slow attentive strokes to the unsheathed throbbing cock. Though as he bottomed out inside his ass, the hand moved from playing with the painfully tender pulsating pole in favor of fondling the balls at its base, gathering both his own and his pet’s in his warm palm and messaging them together before he slid slowly out of the clenching tight hole, enjoying the tremors that seemed to wreck though the frail body he had positioned in prayer-stance before him.

“You like that?” Enji purred, having pulled almost all the way out before pushing back inside the warm walls of his slave. “You like getting taken in your tight little ass?” He wasn’t necessarily fishing for any response, most likely the opposite, simply wanting to prove how right and good and perfect their dynamic was, how this is something they both wanted, both needed. “Nothing to say, pet?” He snickered as he once again stuffed him completely full with his cock, listening to the wet choked moans that were whined into the pillow beneath him. “Is my little pet enjoying himself that much, is my cock that good?” He picked up the pace, only a little, rocking faster, fast enough for his balls to begin swinging to hit the other pair of balls it met with each soft thrust. “Tell me how good my cock is.” The hand steadying him squeezed the plush doughy flesh, a pain sharp enough to bring him to his senses, allowing him to formulate what words he knew Enji wanted to hear.

“Fe- feels good, Daddy, thank you Da- Daddy, feels so, so goo- good.” He croaked, face hugging the pillow close, buried in the fluff of it, the plush sucking up what drool seeped from out the corner of his mouth, and what tears spilled down from the corner of his eyes. The cover wet and sticky and itchy against his skin as he rocked softly further into it each time Enji filled him up and pushed him down.

“That’s right.” Enji drawled with a smirk, gorging at the submissive wet mess he had wrapped around himself. “And you thought you were scared.” He chastised. “When we both knew you were just hungry.”

#yandere #yandere todoroki #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji #yandere todoroki enji #enji thirst #bnha enji #enji todoroki #todoroki #bnha todoroki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia

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willowbird · 3 years

Note

Hey! For the au + trope + prompt thing, could you do 1 for au, 9 for trope and 27 for prompt with pynch?

(P.S: I just remembered you have already done one with pynch, so you can do this one with another ship of your choosing if this one feels repetitive!)

Roommates AU, strangers to lovers, “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.” ~ for pynch!

I am more than happy to write 10,000 roommate aus for these idiots <3

---

It all started with an only mildly suspicious ad on craigslist:

Roommate needed $275/mo - utilities included must be ok with corvids good w/cars a plus - rent discount if u can prove it

Adam wasn't an idiot. He knew something that was too good to be true when he saw it. He also knew that answering a craigslist ad for a roommate was a good way to get stabbed, robbed, and God only knew what else.

And yet...

Sometimes, when your options were limited it really was better to take every possible avenue to get away from the devil you know - even if that means sharing a small apartment with the devil you don't.

Well, the devil and his pet raven. And really, Chainsaw was by far the more agreeable of the two.

That being said, it wasn't like Ronan was awful. He was an asshole, and he was downright grumpy bastard anytime before 11am. He listened to terrible music, if that trash could ever be considered such. Chainsaw was a sweetheart, though, always bringing Adam new shinies for his approval and sitting with him while he worked on a paper or research or any number of other assignments for his degree.

(Taking the risk that he had by jumping at that craigslist ad meant that he was able to cut back on his hours a little bit at work, go to school full time, and start amassing a savings account.)

And, okay, Ronan probably had some merits too. He could cook, for one thing. Not to say that Adam couldn't cook. He could - he just didn't like to. If it were up to him, he'd probably subsist on saltines and hard-boiled eggs. In fact, he had done exactly that for the first two weeks living with Ronan until the other man had dropped a full plate of breakfast in front of him, stole his crackers, and pointed at him. "Eat like a fucking grown-up," he'd said -and... well, that was that. Sure, Adam had tried to protest, but Ronan had just... started making food for the both of them and maybe if it was shitty food or even mediocre in quality Adam would have been able to ignore it - but it killed something inside Adam to waste food. Especially good food. And Ronan's food was fucking amazing.

So, there was that.

He also wasn't an absolute terror to be around. Having a conversation with Ronan Lynch was a choose-your-own-adventure novel written by very high geniuses. You really never knew what you were going to get and each alternate path was bound to be either completely bat-shit crazy or a humbling level of profound. Not only that, but Ronan didn't pull that alpha-male bullshit so many other men did where they refused to admit they didn't know something. No, when Adam proved that he knew what he was talking about when it came to cars, Ronan just said "teach me?" with such open intensity that Adam couldn't really tell him 'no', alright?

And then there were days like today, where Adam got home from an early shift at the garage to find Ronan sitting halfway out of their third-floor apartment, securing a thick rope to a hook above the window that definitely hadn't been there when Adam left that morning.

"Are you about to do something stupid again?" Adam called up to him as he got out of his car. Upon hearing his voice, Chainsaw (who had been circling anxiously above) crowed out a warbled imitation of speech that sounded a lot like 'Atom' and coasted down to him.

"Me? Stupid? Nah, this is gonna be fucking amazing," Ronan called back without looking away from his work.

Chainsaw landed on Adam's shoulder and clapped her beak affectionately near his ear. Adam dutifully lifted a hand to stroke at the soft feathers of her neck. If he also whispered 'hello beautiful girl, is your papa making trouble for you again?' it was between him and the bird and Ronan would never need to know.

Chainsaw crooned a tense 'kreh!' that Adam took as an affirmative.

"What exactly are you doing, Ronan Lynch?" Adam called up as he took another look at the setup, walking closer to the building. The rope that Ronan had just finished tying to the hook was already secured to a tree on the edge of the parking lot, the one that stood awkwardly out from the rest of the tree line. Their apartment complex was situated right on the edge of a forest preserve. A lot of Ronan's hair-brained ideas usually came back to the forest in one way or another.

"This is just a test run. If I can get it to work right, I'm going to set a line straight into the forest."

"Mm, yes, because... leaving civilization through a door is beneath you?"

Ronan paused, then grinned down at him, the expression somehow both boyish and savage in a way that always made Adam's heart jump for some reason. "Actually, yeah. Literally."

Adam rolled his eyes but didn't bother to fight the smile. "Punk."

"I resent that. I reject all labels, Parrish - you know that."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well if you-- Ronan what are you doing?"

Ronan had produced what looked like a fucking tie (was that the one Ronan's brother Declan had been wearing when he came by for dinner a couple weeks back?) and had wrapped one end around his hand. As Adam watched, he flicked the loose end of the tie over the taut rope and then wrapped it around his other hand.

"Told you it was a test run, Parrish. That mean's I've actually got to test it."

"Ronan I don't think--"

But it was too late. Ronan had already jumped out of the fucking third-floor window like he was expecting to fly. For a second or two, he sort of did. The rope bowed but supported him and the smooth tie provided little friction as Ronan began to zoom down at a steep angle. Then the rope shuddered and went completely slack, the hook having torn free from the side of the building where it clearly had not been properly anchored. Ronan plummeted like a stone in a still pond.

"Ronan!" Adam did not make the active decision to move, but he was suddenly sprinting to where the jumbled heap of Ronan Lynch had landed on the rough pavement. Chainsaw had already launched ahead and was hopping around near Ronan's head, squawking out anxious reprimands of 'Kerah! Kerah!'

Adam skidded to his knees beside Ronan just as the other man was shakily trying to sit up. "What the FUCK Ronan Lynch!? What were you thinking!? You can't just jump out of a God-forsaken third-floor window like that. Do you want to be killed?" Adam didn't even care that the rural-Virginian flavor of his youth had coated his words in a thick batter, he was so mad.

Ronan blinked at him and there was a strange mix of confusion and pain and... something else on his face. "Scared, Parrish?" The words did not come out as teasing as they normally would.

"Scared? Scared? Of course I was scared. You... you fucking idiot!" Adam had to give himself a moment. He raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, then another. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Fear and anger would get him nowhere, even if the fear had already set its nasty little hooks into each and every one of his nerve endings and the anger felt like the only way to burn them away.

A hand touched his shoulder, then his cheek. Adam opened his eyes and Ronan was wearing another indecipherable expression, his dark eyes hooded, his mouth pursed.

"Come on," Adam said as he leaned back so he could stand up. "Can you stand?" Chainsaw continued to hop around, but she'd stopped her distressed shouting, perhaps sensing that Adam was taking control and feeling more comfortable knowing that he would set things to rights, whatever that might mean.

Ronan was quiet for a moment, then seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts before giving a derisive snort. "It was just a little fall, Parrish, I'm --fuck!" Ronan had just tried to stand up, but his knee buckled out from under him as soon as he put his weight on it. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, alright. Alright. Shit. Fuck. That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

"The standing or the stupid fucking stunt you pulled jumping out of a goddamn window?" Adam asked. He attempted to make it as dry as possible, trying to get them back to some kind of equilibrium, but his heart was still racing a bit too fast and he could hear the angry bite in his own words.

Still didn't stop him from instantly stepping forward and catching Ronan, though. He wound an arm around Ronan's waist, guiding Ronan's arm over his shoulders so he could support him.

"The standing, of course. Shit! Ah... fuck. My idea for the apartment-forest zipline is fucking genius thank you."

Adam helped Ronan hobble forward, taking them back toward his car instead of the building. "Yeah. Right. Whatever you say, Lynch."

"Where are we going?"

"To the hospital, dumbass," Adam said with a roll of his eyes, all but shoving Ronan into the passenger seat. He held the door open for Chainsaw to be able to swoop in and land on the idiot's lap. The least Ronan could do was soothe her for the drive.

"You don't have--"

Adam cut him off with a glare. "We. Are. Going. To. The. Hospital. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"...yes." Ronan glared back, but then sank down in his seat, expression mulish.

Adam fixed him with a hard stare that lasted another few heartbeats, then gave a nod and snapped the door shut.

So yes, Ronan Lynch wasn't all that bad. Sometimes the devil you don't really is the better choice. Because sometimes that devil has a cute bird and makes good food and has great conversation. If he also scares the shit out of you on the regular and makes your heart race inexplicably, well, that's not so bad a deal. Right?

#asks #ficlet prompts #fanfic #pynch #trc #roommates au #adam parrish #ronan lynch #chainsaw #adam parrish x ronan lynch #pynch fanfic #trc fanfic

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nyanbinary-zack-foster · 3 years

Text

Blight - A Friday Night Funkin Corruption Mod Fanfic

[WARNING - THIS FANFICTION HAS A MENTION OF GUNS AND OTHER CANON-TYPICAL SUBJECTS.] [This fanfic also includes minor mentions of Pico x BF x GF, and is based around the corruption mod.]

Pico leaned against a lamppost by the railway, idly twirling the gun he always carried in one hand. Nothing was really going on on that particular day, then again, for him at least, that was a good thing.

But something felt off today. Maybe it was just his usual issues, he had always been paranoid, especially since a certain day when he was younger. Maybe it was nothing.

Being near the railway reminded him of his fight with Boyfriend. Shortly after that, they’d ended up meeting back up, it had been who knows how many years since they’d last seen each other, and leaving off on meeting because of a hit taken out on him wasn't the way he wanted to meet his ex. But hey, it did give him the chance to see him again. No regrets there. His partner, named Girlfriend strangely enough, was pretty nice too. It had been a while since then, they’d all ended up dating. It was nice.

… where was Boyfriend anyways?

Pico hadn’t seen him in a while, and they all usually kept up. Texting each other when they got the chance, checking up on each other… why hadn't he heard from him? In fact, he hadn't heard from Girlfriend either. She would have texted him if something bad had happened, right?...

Just then, Pico looked up. In the distance, a little ways down the tracks, there was Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Pico let out a sigh of relief. Just in time, he knew it was just his mind getting to him again. Nothing bad had happened.

… right?

Something still felt wrong. Sure, the sun was setting, it was getting dark, but he couldn't see either of them aside from a silhouette. An outline against the light, nothing else.

Calm down, Pico, it's nothing, it's just the light.

But even when the two got closer, it didn't change. Still nothing but an outline. Even their movements seemed off. Too rigid and twitchy, almost robotic. Like whatever was there was just trying to simulate them.

Pico took a more defensive stance at this. Something was definitely wrong. This wasn't them.

When the two got close enough, he could finally make out the figures better. It wasn't just light, they seemed to be covered in some kind of black or dark pink material. A sharp grin on both of their faces, too wide for a normal human’s. Their eyes wide and scleras dark, pupils pink. There was… something dark on their hands, mostly Boyfriend’s. He- no, it looked almost like… Pico didn't have time to complete the thought. They were both getting closer. Whatever this was, it wasn't Boyfriend. And that definitely wasn't Girlfriend. But while the Girlfriend doppelganger looked more passive, the imitation of Boyfriend seemed far more aggressive. It was looking directly at him. Pico took a step back-

Suddenly, out of nowhere Boyfriend lunged at him, grabbing his arm roughly. Pico could feel the sharp pain of it’s claws digging into him. He screamed, both out of fear and pain, slamming the grip of the gun into the hand now on his arm. That was, thankfully, enough to make it back off enough for him to quickly back away. He then looked down at his arm.

From the scratches on his arm, there was the same kind of black material coming out along with the blood. It wasn't oozing- it was more like it was spreading from the wound, slowly.

“What the hell?...” Pico looked back up at the two figures. Boyfriend - or whatever this… thing was - was holding a microphone. This felt too familiar.

But that gave Pico an idea.

Maybe if he had a rap battle with this thing, something would happen. He didn't know what, if this thing was a doppelganger maybe beating it would scare it off or weaken it or something. Or if it was actually Boyfriend, it would bring him and Girlfriend back.

“Fine then, if this is what you want, I’m not gonna back down from a challenge.” He got out his own microphone, and the battle began, albeit this time, Pico kept his gun pointed at his opponent.

By the end of the first round, Pico was slightly out of breath. It was probably just out of stress rather than actual exhaustion. Being panicked will do that to you.

But something did happen due to this.

The Boyfriend lookalike let out a strange sounding beep - he’d noticed its beeps were different than Boyfriends - and gripped its eye like it was in pain, doubling over.

When the clawed hand dropped, pico saw something.

Part of the strange material had cleared, about half of its face, and under it there was… Boyfriend’s face.

The creature from before didn't speak, it could only let out beeps that barely resembled boyfriends. But when this happened, when Boyfriend saw Pico, he let out a tired and rough-sounding voice, as if it was hard to speak. “... Pico?...” The infection on Pico had spread through the course of the fight. It covered about half of him - but seeing this had some effect on it. It cleared up to only about his shoulder.

“Its working-” he couldn't believe it. So far there hadn't been an effect on Girlfriend, but that could come later - this was progress! “Boyfriend, its okay, listen, just- just keep going, we can do this!” he wasn't the best at encouragement - never was - but he tried his best. It seemed to work, Boyfriend weakly smiled a bit and nodded, gripping the microphone. They had to keep going.

Another round complete, things were looking up. Boyfriend seemed to have regained a little bit of strength. This had to work.

But afterwards, Boyfriend let out a pained cry. “Boyfriend?? What's wrong, what-” But what happened next spoke for him. The microphone dropped to the ground, and Boyfriend let out another scream, this one worse than the last. Then the material that had cleared up before spread back over his face.

Oh no.

No, this can't happen, it was getting better, it-

Then Pico felt a similar pain. He winced, and watched as the strange black substance spread back over him. The vision in one of his eyes went dark. His body felt stiff.

No, he wouldn't let this happen to him too. He had to stop this.

Pico aimed his gun at the other figure.

“I don't know who or what you are, but I'm not letting you do this. Not to him, not to her, and not to me.” the figure just stared at him, with the same sick grin it always had. Almost daring him to pull the trigger.

And yet he couldn't.

‘What are you doing,’ he asked himself, ‘just pull the trigger!’ ‘But that's still him. I can't just shoot boyfriend!’

‘THAT'S NOT HIM!’ And yet, after what he had seen, he couldn't deny the idea that if he did shoot, it would hurt the person being held captive by this thing.

His hands were shaking. He couldn't do this. He’d done this dozens of times to people he didn't know, but he couldn't do it to someone he did.

He lowered the gun and held the microphone up again with shaky hands.

“Fine. You win. We’ll fight on your terms.” The imitation picked up its own microphone.

‘This is the last chance we get. Let's do this.’

Pico was used to losing to Boyfriend. He was good at this. But this time it hurt. Not just emotionally, but physically.

The creature he was against seemed to smile even more as he collapsed. He could feel himself crying, even screaming, but he couldn't hear it somehow.

Finally, Pico’s vision went dark.

“..co? Pico, wake up!” Pico jolted awake, the memory of what had just happened still fresh in his mind. His whole body ached. And there was Boyfriend. He looked just like he had looked that morning.

“Hey, dude, you were shaking and crying in your sleep again, you okay?” He had been asleep? Was that all that was, some weird nightmare? He hadn't had one like that before, usually it was about… “Y-yeah, im fine. Just a nightmare.” His voice was shaky, as it usually was after a nightmare like that. Was he crying? God, that’s embarrassing.

Boyfriend smiled, almost like he could tell he was embarrassed for crying. “Hey, it's okay. You’re safe. Do you wanna talk about it? You don't have to, but if it would help…” He sat on the bed next to him, wrapping his arms around Pico. It was nice. Warm. “Maybe… it was weird, I was at the subway and you and Girlfriend were there, but you guys looked… weird. Then something happened and I... “ He tried to think of how to describe it, but landed on a blank. “I don't know how to say it. It was just weird and…” “That's okay. Lets get your mind off of it, okay? Y’know, Girlfriend said she’d be at this cafe downtown. Wanna come?” Pico smiled. That's just what he needed. Some food and some time with his two partners. “Sounds great. Lemme just get ready.” Boyfriend got up and headed over to the door of Pico’s room. “You got it! Come out whenever you're ready.” “Thanks.”

Pico got up. Or, what used to be him did. He didn't look any different to Boyfriend now. He picked up his gun, it had dropped on the ground when he collapsed. Boyfriend and Girlfriend had left, off to take care of others.

Pico had his own plans in mind. He’d take care of those they couldn't.

That's what he was supposed to do after all.

#friday night funkin #girlfriend friday night funkin #pico friday night funkin #boyfriend friday night funkin #friday night funkin mod #friday night funkin corruption mod #fnf pico #pico fnf #pico x bf x gf #pico x boyfriend x girlfriend #boyfriend fnf #bf friday night funkin #bf fnf #girlfriend fnf #gf fnf #angst #YALL ARE GONNA HATE ME FOR THE ENDING BUT IM PREPARED.

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sparklyjojos · 4 years

Text

CARNIVAL recaps [7/13]

Today’s recap: JDC J-pop version, the S-detective of two genders, and Dokuson being Dokuson.

[PART 2 — CARNIVAL BOX]

FOURTEEN

07 Dec 1996 — 13 Dec 1996

OSAKA CASTLE

It’s funny how fast you can get used to something, BOKU thinks. He’s already got used to his D-name so much that he turns his head when people on the street say the pronoun “boku” in conversations.

Similarly, the world already got used to the Crime Olympics. Every day four million people die, and yet the world continues to turn. Maybe there’s no other way for humanity to continue than trying not to feel the despair, giving up in a way. Attempting to understand the fear and pain of a tragedy this big could drive anyone insane. Even detectives in books can’t help but get used to murders.

BOKU isn’t anything special. He’s had an average upbringing, worked some entry-level jobs, and even now his office work isn’t anything really outstanding. What is he doing in a place like JDC, anyway? As the representative’s assistant? Looking at his reflection in the window—at the scared young man with glasses hiding tired eyes—he wants to run away.

When he turns around to return to his desk, he finds his chair occupied by Yuiga Dokuson. BOKU could swear he didn’t hear him come in. As always, where is Dokuson, there he immediately brings this strange atmosphere as if everything in the world runs according to his will.

Dokuson states that BOKU’s been slacking off. BOKU answers that unlike Dokuson, he’s a regular human being that has to rest sometimes, and he doesn’t have nowhere near Dokuson’s talent either. Dokuson rebutts that talent is not everything, and those who seem to be superhuman geniuses have simply been working more than others (and that he, Dokuson, who of course has the greatest talent of all, is naturally the one working the hardest.) According to him all people are narcissists by virtue of being different from others, and the ones aware of it are the only ones who can really polish their talent (and since Dokuson is the most aware narcissist of all, then of course he is the greatest genius in the world.) Dokuson is sure that he could achieve anything another human can, like getting a gold medal in the Olympics, he just doesn’t care enough to do it.

(BOKU once more has to wonder what he’s even doing here and what on earth is this conversation he’s having.)

BOKU asks if Dokuson also thinks himself the most beautiful in the world—even more beautiful than Tsukumo Juku? Dokuson states that Juku’s beauty is “defective”; after all, what is the most beautiful should not cause harm to others, like making them faint. Besides that, what is considered beautiful changes with time and place, and besides that, right-minded people wouldn’t NOT consider the world’s greatest genius like Dokuson not to also be the most beautiful. And if BOKU doesn’t feel the same, then in Dokuson’s eyes he’s wrong-minded.

(...Well, certainly he is the world’s greatest narcissist, BOKU thinks.)

Dokuson is sure he would solve the Crime Olympics the fastest on earth. But he can’t do it right now, which must mean nobody else can do it, which must mean the case is unsolvable for now… for others than the members of the villainous group, at least.

Dokuson leaves the room, and BOKU wonders for the nth time why he’s still working for this man. He grumbles under his breath sometimes, but still doesn’t quit, and neither does everyone else working in new JDC. Must be Dokuson’s charisma. Whether for good or for bad, JDC has changed under his rule, just like the entire world has changed in the last few months.

[And now we enter our first narration change, this one in second person.]

Ever since JDC fell victim to the Billion Killer, the entire country sent them help and presents, touched by the tragedy. Mass media quickly threw together the “JDC Band”, with the artists’ share of money being donated to JDC (though not the recording industry’s share. That’s how the world works.) The band is entirely female, each member dressing up in the style of one of the JDC’s famous detectives:

Vocal — Dark (Ryuuguu Jounosuke)

Guitar — Eve (Christmas Mizuno)

Bass — Lead (Tsukumo Juku)

Drums — Cocktail (Amagi Hyouma)

Keyboard — Manya (Hikimiya Yuuya)

[...they just chose all the young bishonens, didn’t they.]

The band is doing quite well, their single Carnival Eve and first album Carnival climbing to the top of various charts with speed unusual even for the circumstances. All the tickets for their concert at the Osaka Castle Hall on December 7th sold out instantly, but they kept a few spares for VIPs like the members of DOLL.

Of course, you have been waiting for the opportunity to visit your beloved Japan again. You’re quite a fan of the country. And so, you and the girl you’ve met during a case in Italy, Somedaring Amagoi / Ittai-chan, came to Osaka together. Some people in the crowd recognize Amagoi and ask for her signature. You don’t think you’d be recognized anywhere in your own Italy… but then again, it’s not like you’d pull attention to yourself by randomly talking out loud on the street while being a detective. (Though you would do that as a woman.)

“It seems everyone is only paying attention to Ittai,” Amagoi says in her usual third person. “Nobody here really knows you, Meiru-shi, even if you’re one of the seven S-detectives in the world!”

Inspired by Ryuuguu Jounosuke, Amagoi also refers to men using the suffix “-shi” and to women using “-jou”. It’s a weird manner of speech—even weirder because she’s a returnee with a strange way of pronouncing things—but you do appreciate that she properly sees you as a man right now.

Well, she does think that the flowery Genoa folk dress you wore earlier was prettier, but you are in detective mode now, and your clothes have to match.

You and Amagoi take a stroll in the rain and talk. You mentioned earlier that the Osaka Castle Hall reminds you of a giant UFO, but Amagoi thinks that if anything looks like an alien spaceship, it’d be the city’s giant stadium, Osaka Dome.

Walking into the hall you stumble into JDC Band’s vocalist known by fans as “Dark Ryuuguu”, and then take a look at the rehearsal. It’s weird to see these imitators dressed as detectives on the scene, like in one big masquerade—or maybe it’d be better to say it’s a masked “Carnival”, like the name of their first album. It’s quite a strange feeling observing them, like stepping into a parallel world.

Amagoi doesn’t look anything but happy seeing “Dark Ryuuguu”.

“Somedaring,” you ask, “are you not sad about your mentor’s death?”

She is, but she doesn’t believe Jounosuke’s really dead. Nobody would be able to kill a guy that lucky if they tried, she says. Even if the accident definitely happened, Amagoi is sure Jounosuke will come back somehow, especially considering how much weirdness is going on in the Crime Olympics already. She’s more worried about the people that went missing, like Ajiro Souji and recently Jounosuke’s sister Otohime—it’s her disappearance that she asked you to investigate, seeing as you are the world’s best locked room specialist, known as the Locked Empress. (Empress, even though when you’re a detective, you are always a man.)

Some time after the concert, at exactly 1 PM, a series of thunderous roars comes from somewhere in the rain, and all of a sudden the Osaka Castle Keep vanishes into thin air. You both break into a dash to to the empty space. The Castle has simply disappeared without a trace, surrounded by crowds. Amagoi thinks this may be a supernatural phenomenon, and not a mystery that could ever be solved.

FIFTEEN

14 Dec 1996 — 20 Dec 1996

SKY BUILDING

So who the hell even are you, asshole?

—is what Yuiga Dokuson often asks himself.

Where are you going with your life?

And why are you even asking yourself those stupid questions? It could be because of that S-detective you’ve met recently—but no, someone like you surely wouldn’t be influenced by another person. And it’s not like you haven’t been analyzing yourself constantly anyway, scrutinizing yourself at all times, as if you’re stuck in a particularly rude second person narration.

As soon as you get the news about the Osaka Castle, you order sleep-deprived BOKU to check the crime scene. You can take over his work no problem, it will only take you fifteen minutes what he would need half a day for, obviously.

A few hours later BOKU returns along with Amagoi and the S-Detective Firannu Meiruneshia, who is wearing a flowery folk dress of Genoa. You welcome Amagoi, who as always refers to you as “Demon Lord” (must be the effect of all those fantasy RPGs she likes), and you observe the other closely.

The explanation you’re given is that Firannu, while a woman, takes on a boy persona during investigations. Not in an actual alternate personality way, but simply performing a fictional role, so that they can look at everything including themselves from a different standpoint—instead of an adult woman, a teenage boy. “Firannu Meiruneshia” is a D-name. They also use a nickname E-Mail, conveying a double meaning: one, they are as quick in reasoning as an e-mail in being sent, and two, it’s a pun on “E [Empty] Meiru”—as in, the detective personality of “Firannu Meiruneshia” is empty, fictional.

A fictional person with a fake name, speaking fake words… Certainly you already noticed something off about them before, their somewhat uneasy atmosphere. Then again, everyone’s personality is in a way “made up”, fluent, influenced by others. Everyone is subconsciously acting out a role of “themselves”.

You talk about the disappearance of the Osaka Castle. It had been closed for maintenance for a good while, and boy, did all that taxpayer money just vanish together with all eight stories of the building.

You and Meiru may not understand the solution yet—even the world’s greatest genius won’t solve anything without the necessary data—but you know vaguely what’s going on. (Oh, and even if you call everyone by their first name, you do call them Meiru instead of Firannu; it’s only fair when they call you just by “Dokuson” like you prefer.)

Amagoi notices that the highly suspicious timing of the Osaka Castle repairs could serve to hide the preparations for whatever trick was used, though she can’t explain what that trick was exactly.

[...and here would be first person narration from BOKU, but I’m lazy so have this in third person instead.]

BOKU has recently finished reading a crime novel that used the Hanging Gardens of Babylon as a theme, so inspired by this he reads up on the Seven Wonders (the ancient ones as well as several new lists). It is indeed wondrous how human hands could built something like the Wonders. Then again, the ancients were probably used to them the same way that BOKU is considering the English Channel and artificial satellites as a normal part of his world. Maybe the term “Wonders” would apply better to actually unexplained things like UFO or Yeti.

BOKU can’t help but notice that a lot of the entries on various lists of modern “Wonders” match the crime scenes chosen by the Billion Killer. Stonehenge, the Easter Island… perhaps they could predict the future targets by looking at those lists? Hanto Maimu has sadly lost her predictive ability ever since the birth of her daughter, so she can’t help them anymore.

On the next Saturday, while BOKU is busy in the office, Ushiwaka Gigolo [which the reader probably forgot existed] comes in and asks where on earth that bastard Dokuson went, because he had promised to meet with her today and yet the office is empty. BOKU has no idea where the guy is either, so they go to search for him together. [And the female employees eye BOKU enviously, because as it was said in Carnival Eve, Ushiwaka really does seem to be popular with the ladies. That’s what happens when you’re bi and your reasoning method relies on flirting and falling in love, I imagine?]

Unusually for her, Ushiwaka isn’t tagging along with Kakuusan Kanke today [bet you forgot about her too], since the latter is apparently in the US with Hyouma for certain reasons. BOKU wonders aloud how Kanke managed to get Hyouma to America despite his horrible sea-sickness and fear of flying, and Ushiwaka’s answer for now is “we have ways”.

Eventually, Dokuson calls BOKU on the phone and tries to get him to go somewhere, but before he can explain more, Ushiwaka snatches the phone and tells Dokuson exactly what she thinks about him breaking promises. BOKU has never heard anyone else be that straightforward with Dokuson. He gets the impression the two have known each other for a long time.

Finally Ushiwaka hangs up and announces cooly that they’re going to meet Dokuson in the Hanging Gardens. Not the Babylon ones, of course, but the Floating Garden Observatory at the rooftop of Umeda Sky Building, a famous landmark in Osaka.

On the way, BOKU thinks about how the world for something fictional, 架空, literally means something that’s “overhead”, “suspended in the air”, kinda like the Hanging Gardens seemed to be, well, hanging. The Umeda Sky Building reminds him both of the Gardens and of the alleged Tower of Babel. Come to think of it, the Billion Killer seems to like choosing places that are tall towers or give the visitors the illusion of walking in the air.

They find Dokuson at the rooftop, but just as he starts scolding them for being too late, Ushiwaka slaps him in the face, because he promised to meet her at JDC, dammit! Even someone as composed as Dokuson can’t help but look a little stunned, and in his cool explanations about being Very Busy With Work there’s a hint of deep emotions. (BOKU is now seriously wondering what kinda relation these two have.) Dokuson says that he’s not running away or anything, he’s only here because Amagoi and Meiru wanted to meet up to talk about a new clue. Ushiwaka replies that she’s not going to let this fly, as Dokuson had assured her that no matter what, he wouldn’t break his promise this time, and yet. Thankfully BOKU manages to change the topic to the case before they can really get at each other’s throats.

The three take a walk through the Floating Garden Observatory while Dokuson’s explaining what happened in the last few days. Amagoi and Meiru investigated Ryuuguujou trying to figure out how Otohime could have been kidnapped from a locked room situation. In a strange coincidence, one of Otohime’s bodyguards, Matsuo Meiten, provided them with information about another case. At the very moment the Osaka Castle Keep vanished, he was in the Umeda Sky Building with his family and so had a great view of the surroundings. Just before the inexplicable happened, he noticed something among the clouds above the Castle: a small black shadow… which, taking distance into account, must have been something even bigger than the Castle itself.

Ushiwaka scolds Dokuson for believing Meiru this easily without checking things himself, to which Dokuson answers that oh, he already did check them, who does she take him for, and then BOKU hurries with another question before the two can start arguing again.

Suddenly Dokuson’s phone rings. [His ringtone is the Devilman opening. Even the narration points out that since it’s 1996, Dokuson must have used the ringtone composer thing on his phone to painstakingly input all the notes himself. Amazing.] The ones calling are Meiru and Amagoi, who want them all to meet up in the restaurant on another floor, so the three move towards the rooftop’s exit.

Suddenly the world goes dark, as if something eclipsed the sun. Right above the Sky Building hovers a giant round object. For a moment it seems to get smaller (or ascending?), but then it gets bigger again. And bigger. And bigger...

Only when Dokuson kicks him and yells at him to run, does BOKU come out of shock and dashes after him towards the exit. As they’re running through the building chaos erupts around them, the impact sends debris flying and shakes the entire world. Dokuson is supporting Ushiwaka and screaming at BOKU to move faster, but he can’t possibly go any faster, Ushiwaka is yelling that she can run on her own, everything is chaos and panic. BOKU falls behind, can’t even see where he’s going through his broken glasses, the floor tilts under his feet until he can’t keep his balance and falls down. Something round that’s rolling around hits him in the face. The Billion Killer’s skull. BOKU gets through the tilted escalator tunnel down to the 35th floor, but then the collapsing world rotates again, the tunnel is now a completely vertical deadly fall, and BOKU doesn’t have any strength left to keep himself from sliding towards it—but just as he’s about to plummet to his death, somebody catches him in the last moment possible.

It’s Dokuson. He came back for him.

BOKU can only cry with relief before his body gives up and he loses consciousness.

Whatever the object that smashed into the Umeda Sky Building was, it vanished without a trace right afterwards. Witnesses claim it looked like a giant alien spaceship.

Two days later, when Amagoi and Meiru visit a restaurant at the famous Osaka Dome (which apparently has undergone some renovations lately), they learn about a curious thing that happened there on Saturday—a small, highly localized earthquake was registered with the epicenter at the Osaka Dome.

The Osaka Dome, which is distinctly giant and looks like an alien spaceship.

They might not know the exact trick to the Sky Building's destruction yet, but they know with what it was hit.

The case is partially solved, just like Meiru partially solved the mystery behind Otohime’s disappearance—they don’t know what happened, but think that Otohime is safe. Meiru seems to have figured out a lot more, but doesn’t want to share it, so Amagoi asks for at least some hint.

Meiru says that all murders happen in a locked room—the Earth itself, a locked room that nobody can really get out of. Maybe the thing they need is some truly cosmic reasoning.

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads carnival #maijo and jdc stuff #dokuson is a disaster and i love him #the devilman thing only got funnier in 2020 now that ARE WA DARE DA is a meme

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altonajitzu · 6 years

Text

On Taking Care of A Tzuyu

Before we start, please accept my shortcomings that will be present throughout the narration. Being a really single writer, I royally suck at describing clothes. Also, my knowledge about Korean (or lack thereof) forced me to tell everything language-related content as if they were speaking English, and using alphabetical letters. And no, English is not my first language either, so I apologize for the crappy grammar as well.

The story will, I project, be written in a third-person omniscient POV, but there will be a lot of Jihyo's.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twice.

_________________

“Shoot…. And it’s my favorite top too.”

Jihyo, the proud leader of TWICE, the motherly figure of everyone else, winced as she looked down on the state of her attire in dismay. For this occasion only, one where she could have the whole entire day to herself, Jihyo had donned a dark pink tank top over a plain white shirt. (AN: imagine her outfit in Likey). While the clothing itself had little to flaunt, it really complimented the singer’s figures- especially her chest, the only area that stayed proudly voluptuous after the hard-earned weight loss.

At any rate, she wasn’t able to enjoy the fabulous feeling- she was soaking wet and irritated, all thanks to the rain suddenly pouring down as she was leisurely sightseeing in the neighborhood park. To add insult to injury, she apparently stepped into some kind of grovel in the hurry for shelter; now every step she took felt gritty, sandy, and occasionally painful when a particularly pointy grain scrapped against her skin. Long story short, she felt pathetic.

That did not mean though, that she looked the way she felt. With the wet T-shirt and the tank top now drenched and sticking to her body, making her look a lot more sensual than her usual cheerful. Normally, such illegally erotic images could seriously threaten her safety should she be alone; lucky for her, no pervert would bother venturing around the playhouse in the middle of a random park in the middle of the rain. Dealing with the usual catcalls on the streets was irritating enough.

Speaking of catcalls… Cats were cute. Jihyo loved cats a lot. Closing her eyes, she could just imagine having one bundled in her arms, their fluffy fur tickling her arms, their meows soothing her ears like…

“Meowrghhghrgh.”

Jihyo’s head snapped up. That imaginary meow was strangely realistic, not to mention highly un-dreamy. Wasn’t it supposed to be, like, more melodious and adorable?

“Meowwwwwww.”

Yes, that’s more like it, albeit still too hoarse. Jihyo nodded to herself in satisfaction, before bolting up and looking around. That’s definitely not her imagination anymore… There was undoubtedly a cat around, and it did not sound healthy.

“Meow? Meow!!” Jihyo stood up and slowly advanced to where she thought the sound came from, no longer caring about the rain. Her imitation of the cat was poor and highly unnecessary, but she needed another meow to pinpoint the location and had no other idea.

After a few more pathetic exchange of meows, the leader of TWICE finally found her target: A white cat lying underneath a swing seat nearby, looking dirty and exhausted.

“Oh god, you poor thing.” Jihyo gasped in worry and gingerly picked said cat up. It did not react much; save for a slight jolt upon contact, the half-dead cat was too tired to put up a fight. Its head was the only thing active; the cat stared at her with apprehension.

No longer caring about the rain, Jihyo ran as fast as her legs could take her back home.

_______

“Jihyo-unnie, you’re back! Man, you’re soaking wet aren’t ya?” Greeted Dahyun, the person sitting nearest to the front door. She tilted her head in confusion as Jihyo bolted in frantically. “Unnie, what are you…”

“Guys! This little thing needs help!” As all members present stared in shock, their leader practically slid into the living room, holding up something white and dirty.

“Jihyo, you take care of the floor next time. I just finished cleaning…” Nayeon’s irritation dissipated quickly when she saw what her dongsaeng brought in. “Oh my god, it’s a cat! What happened to it?”

“A cat?” That got the attention of the whole room, even Momo who was napping soundly. They all gathered around the cat as Jihyo put it down a makeshift bed, or Chaeyoung’s hat. Being surrounded caused the cat to be more restless, it frantically looked around everyone fearfully, and released a weak hiss.

“Hey! That’s my…”

“Hush, little Chaeyoung.” Jeongyeon interrupted her complaint. Chaeyoung pouted. “Quick, someone grab something to eat from the fridge. Some milk too. And a towel. And a hairdryer. And spread out girls, you’re scaring it.” The stern order from the short-haired girl got everyone scrambling for the objectives. Momo, who was still blurry from sleep, was cleanly knocked back to her bundle of pillows by Mina, who was bolting towards the kitchen.

“Ah, what the hell.” Said Momo, who decided against sitting up, and promptly closed her eyes again.

After a few chaotic moments, involving a really loud crash and a limping Sana, the girls finally gathered what they needed. After a few more spiteful moments when they fought for who got to feed and dry the cat, it was finally clean and healthy again. As soon as it could stand up normally, the cat ran under the sofa.

“… Well, that was ungrateful of him.” Nayeon commented bluntly. They were now having a mini staring contest with the cat, with most TWICE members lying on the stomach and staring into the dark space beneath the sofa. It was almost completely dark, save for the pair of marble blue eyes staring back at them.

“You can’t blame him unnie, all cats will do this when they are scared.” Jihyo, finally calmed down, defended the cat. “It’s not like we own him.” Nayeon shrugged, knowing her leader was right.

“So… what do we do now?” Sana asked sitting up. She then laughed at how everyone was sprawling on the living room, including an oblivious Momo who was asleep, also on her stomach.

“Leave him be for now. We should discuss what to do with him.” Said Jihyo, to which everyone agreed. They all got up from their compromising position and found a comfortable spot to sit, except Jihyo herself who stayed motionless, her eyes never leaving the abandoned cat.

“… Anyway.” Dahyun coughed. “I don’t like cats. Or dogs. Or any animals that move a lot, like Sana-unnie. All they do is run around and mess up everything, like Sana-unnie.” This ilicited a snicker from the others. “Seriously! If we’re keeping it, I want it kept away from me and Chaeyoung’s room.”

Only one part of what she said was heard by Momo. “We’re keeping it?” She perked up from the pile of pillows. “We’re keeping it! Yay!” The Japanese girl cheered loudly.

“You’re not even listening, Momo-unnie!”

“Awwww, but I wanna play with…” Chaeyoung complained.

“Hush, little Chaeyoung.” This resulted in Chaeyoung tackling Dahyun down for a battle of tickles.

Watching on in amusement, Sana directed the talk back to the main topic.

“I like to keep it too. If anything, just to tick off Dahyun. I helped you all the way back on the mountains, and you still treat me like that.” Sana referred back to their trip to Switzerland one week ago.

“Me sorry!” Dahyun did an aegyo.

“I want to keep him too!” Gurgled Nayeon, drinking the milk.

“Me as well!” Mina chimed in.

“You take care of the litter then Mina-unnie.”

“No way!”

As the members argued about who had to take up hygiene duty, Jihyo was slowly luring the cat to her.

“Here, here. Good kitty.” With some miracle, the cat actually moved out of its hiding place. It moved apprehensively, but steadily towards Jihyo’s outstretched hands. She waited with the patience of a saint, when it finally followed her hand out of the couch and into the bright light. The leader slowly lifted the cat up and cradled it in her arms tenderly, lest it got frightened and scamper away.

“Awww… kawaii…” Sana cooed. “It’s all white! Only the top of the head is black. Certainly looks like hair to me.”

“So… what should we call him?” Jihyo asked, knowing everyone is looking at the animal she was holding. With its fur dry and cleaned of dirt, the cat was lovely. While nowhere near fluffy looking as they imagined, it actually maintained a graceful look despite being malnourished.

“… Let’s call him Dog.”

“Dahyun, what the hell? Also, it’s not a he. It’s a she, I just checked it.”

“What? It’s fun.” As Sana and Dahyun got into yet another argument, Jeongyeon voiced her opinion.

“I think you should pick the name, Jihyo. It does seem quite attached to you already.” Said the short-haired girl.

“So what are we keeping again?” Asked Momo, whom – up to this point – no one could tell if she understood anything.

“A cat, Momo-unnie. Jihyo-unnie found a cat, and we’re keeping it.” Explained Chaeyoung patiently. “And because you were asleep the entire time, it drank all your milk.” She winked at Nayeon, who silently mouthed a ‘Thank you’ behind Momo’s back.

“What!!!!!!!!!”

Amidst the commotion, Jihyo stayed silent. She finally moved take off her bracelet and put it around the cat’s neck. It stared at her in confusion, but not resisting. The leader smiled fondly at this.

“I’ll name her… Tzuyu.”

#twice #jihyo #tzuyu #fanfiction #jitzu #momo #sana #mina #chaeyoung #jeongyeon #nayeon #dahyun

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summertime-children · 7 years

Text

KanoKido Week Day 1- Like it always has been

Prompt: Pining / Dating

Word Count: 2 672

Summary: The dan has decided to have another meet up to finally spend some time together again and see how much others lives have changed. Unfortunetely some of them’s haven’t much. (post str)

Comment: It’s a collab between me and @limamelon (shuuyakido)!! Unfortunetely you have to read that one first, but then you can go to her *cough* better *cough* part! [here]

“Hey, thanks for picking me up!” said Seto enthusiastically to which the blond sitting across the table smiled.

“No problem! I have always time for you, especially since you were finally nearby.” To the last part the dark-haired boy shifted his gaze slightly to the side in guilt. “Besides it’s always nice to meet one-to-one!”

“Ahaha, thanks again, Shuu… I mean Kano.” That little slip certainly did make the other laugh.

“Haha, so Kido already told you about this idea of calling each other by our ‘code names’ for today? Man, that’s really so~ like her! Ha, she’s adorable when she so invested in that whole ‘gang’ stuff, isn’t she? But well, what could you expect from the leader?” He looked at his friend to see his reaction, but he received something he didn’t expected and couldn’t quite place a finger on. A content look.

“Yea, I guess.” He suddenly changed the look on his face to like as if he just remembered something. “So how much time we have left?”

“Two hours, easy.” Kano waved his hand in dismiss.

“But to the dinner, right? Didn’t Kido tell you to be an hour earlier to help?”

“What would I do without you?” Kano shook his head. “Ok, so we have an hour left. We won’t be late, don’t worry. It’s still pretty enough time, isn’t it?” he took a sip from the ice tea he ordered and smiled with his lips still pressed to the glass. “Like how are things with Mary’s… I’m sorry Mary and your house?”

“It goes pretty well ,thanks! I think the renovation will be over soon.” Seto sure did lighten up. Not that it was so unusual for him. “When we finish, we’ll invite you two to a party!”

“Haha, I can’t wait!~ Glad to hear it’s been good for you and Mary.”

“Speaking of, how are things going between you and Kido?”

Wait what?

“Speaking of? What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you know…” he stirred his coffee, looking at it for a moment as if it was supposed to answer for him, “did you tell her?”

“Tell her what? Seto, you gotta be more specific.”

“How you feel?…” The silence fell upon them for a moment. That question really did leave Kano surprised.

“…Uhm, I feel fine, thanks. Beside that I don’t understand why should I be telling this Kido, I think she pretty much knows.” Somehow this answer visibly irritated Seto. Like he wasn’t the one talking nonsense.

“Kano, please, I’m serious. Stop joking around.”

“I’m joking around? Seto, buddy, you’re the one that jumped with weird questions out of nowhere.” Now he was loudly irritated as he let out a prolonged groan.

“Ok, fine. I’ll be straight-forward. I’m way better with this.” For someone who hasn’t tell a single lie his whole life definitely, Kano thought.

“Yes, please.”

“Kano,” the dark-haired boy looked him right in the eyes, as if trying to see right through them to his mind. It felt almost nostalgic, “did you tell Kido you love her?” he raised his hand to stop Kano from answering just yet. “In romantic sense.”

There was a fairly awkward moment of silence filled with Kano staring at Seto with big eyes until he finally gave an answer. Well, if you can call it that.

“Wha… what?!”

The taller boy looked at him with a disappointment in his eyes that Kano had never seen before.

“I always thought you’re a better liar.”

“I’m… I’m not lying I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about!” he slightly raised his voice and immediately regretted it. He furtively looked around to see if he got anyone’s attention. Not everyone needed to know about his non-existent romance with Kido. Definitely not strangers.

“Kano… “his companion said in a hopeless voice as he limply fell on the back of the chair, seemingly unaware or uncaring about the noise Kano made. ”…it’s been fifteen years.”

“So what? Was that enough time for me to fell in love with her?”

“I think you had that covered in less than fifteen days.” Seto raised an eyebrow. “I rather meant that it was enough time for you to finally admit your feelings to her, but…” he looked over him (with a hopeless expression) as if desperately trying to find something in the blond look that would disprove what he was about to say, but ultimately gave up and sighed deeply “…apparently you haven’t even admitted it to yourself.”

That only made the blond irritated more. Although, most probably because he never was able to hold any strong irritation towards his childhood friend, somehow he felt like it was directed at himself. Strange.

“Just where did you even get that from?”

“Ehh, could you at least don’t act like I never was in your head before?”

“And what? You want to tell me you have read how I ‘love’ Kido?”

“You haven’t thought exactly that, yes. But… “ he stopped for a moment, seemingly to think about what to say, “…but she did always occupied your mind a lot, didn’t she?”

Good shot. That certainly left a blush on his cheeks.

“Well, I mean…” Kano grunted. Because something tickled him in his throat, not to give himself more time to think. Obviously. “…when we were little she did require our attention. Since her powers were out of control and all…”

He looked at Seto to see if this answer satisfied him (or in the best-case scenario made him entirely drop the subject), but the other boy just squinted his eyes at him.

“Yea, alright. Don’t worry, I have more examples.”

Dear lord. Kano’s gaze desperately wandered to the clock hanging on the wall. Twenty-five minutes left.

“You know, it’s really not only about what you think. You literally say out loud how ‘cute’ and ‘beautiful’ she is all the time.” Ok, now that was dumb.

“So what? She is cute and beautiful. What, now we are not allowed to say facts? Or are you trying to say that she is not beautiful?” Guilt card, good move. Hopefully that will settle it.

“I’m… I’m not trying to… Ok, fine. She is beautiful.” yes, “But I don’t feel the need to constantly talk about it. And as I recall you even went as far as calling her the most beautiful.” dammit.

“I still stay by my case.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “That she’s the most beautiful?”

“Yes. Like, who do you think is?”

“Well, you know, for me it’s be Mary.”

“Seto, let’s be real. You know you’re biased because you’re in love with her.”

Kano swear he had never seen so much irritation in his Seto’s eyes before.

Kano sighed deeply as they finally arrived at home… well, for today base. Seto was a great friend and Kano whole-heartedly missed his company, but after their conversation he was a bit drained out by his presence, especially after he kept pressing the subject. It felt kind of like back in the old days when dark-haired boy’s powers would go out of control and he ended up reading a little too much in Kano’s head. And even then, just like he always had been, he was too candid, too honest to just dismiss it and pretend like he saw nothing. Only this time he certainly didn’t read in Kano’s mind. Not at all.

That little slip of relief certainly didn’t went unnoticed by Seto, but the taller boy didn’t comment on it in any way. At that moment Kano wished that that’s how the rest of the evening would go. (Not that there would be anything to notice in the first place.)

“I’m back!~” Kano exclaimed as they walked through the door. There was a noise heard coming from the kitchen followed by a quick “Finally!” in the well-known for both of them voice.

“Why? Did you miss me?~” the blond answered in the sing-song voice. Somehow he was already in better mood. A simple exchange was enough to make him feel like they’re back into routine and that maybe today won’t be so weird after all?

Aaand it was ruined by the quiet snort behind him. Thanks, Seto.

“Yeah, right. After those few hours I already forgot how you look.” Kido stepped out of the kitchen and they could see her rolling eyes. “I think I missed Seto more.” She smiled and came to the taller boy with spread arms.

“I missed you toooo!” Seto exclaimed as he lifted Kido up slightly above the ground and swing her around.

“Hah, I also missed your strong hugs!” Kido said as she imitated rubbing her back from pain. (Or did she? Seto’s hugs could be that strong, Kano knew from experience.)

“Ahaha, sorry! Do you need help with anything?”

“See Kano? That’s the spirit.” She spared a falsely shaming glance look at blond before turning back to Seto. “But actually I’m mostly done since someone is late to help me.” This time she didn’t give him even a glance. Instead he could feel on himself reproachful look from Seto. Right, like he didn’t have anything to do with it. “You can set the table though. The rest should be here soon.”

They did as she pleased (it’s not like they ever had any other option, but they still did it gladly) and proceeded to help her with the final preparations. Soon the rest of the gang did arrive as predicted and the trio got caught up in enthusiast greetings.

And Kano would love to get lost in catching up with others, listening what they all had been up to, telling them about himself in the exchange, if he hadn’t been currently still lost in his own thoughts about too much of a catching up with Seto from earlier that day. If he got to choose though, he’d much more prefer to be lost in the first one. (Not like he didn’t like to think about Kido, but it’s also not that he somewhat especially liked to think about her. He got from it just the right amount of pleasure. He also didn’t sit close to Kido not because he didn’t like being near her nor because he was avoiding her in any kind of way now. Sometimes he’s actions are not dependent on Kido. Maybe he just wanted to be near salmon?)

The meal was still pretty nice though. Even if he wasn’t as focused on others’ stories as much as he’d like to, he still was able to catch this and that. Plus the meal itself was very nice. (He was actually glad that it was nice to the point where practically the whole time he had his mouth stuffed, otherwise he would had spilled that thought out loud and giving the latest circumstances he didn’t want anyone to read too much into this. “Is this what you want Seto? For our dear childhood friend to not be deservedly fully appreciated for her amazing work?”)

Eventually the meal ended and in the end Kido did receive the well-earned praise. (Oh, so now it’s called ‘simple politeness’?)

“Hey, how about we move the conversation to the living room? There’ll be more comfortable.” Kano heard Takane saying from his left side. Oh, so they were talking about something. Well, makes sense, since apparently everyone finished their meals some time ago.

“Do you need help with cleaning the table, Kido?” asked Seto, obliging as always.

“Nah, Kano will wash the dishes later since he didn’t help much with preparing, right?” Great, attention was on him again. Smile. Focused gaze. Like he never was lost in his thoughts.

“With a pleasure~”

“Ok, so since it’s settled can we go now?” Takane unknowingly interrupted whatever something stupid he was going to say if they didn’t move off the subject.

“Wait, I just wanted to have another portion of salad.”

“Haven’t you eaten too much already, Momo?”

“Shut up, big brother.”

“I-I wanted another cup of tea.”

“I think you can take it with you, Mary.”

“Actually, we can just take some food with us if anyone wants anything.” suggested Kido, creating only bigger bustle, assumingly oppositely to green haired girl’s intent.

After some time of even more bustling, banter and returning talks about how couches and even floor would me more comfortable to sit on during chatting (incidentally kinda rude if Kano had to be honest for once; for this one set of chairs he and Kido actually had paid) they finally did move to the living room.

Somehow in the new setting he ended up sitting close to Kido. It looks like just a moment of not being focused is enough for this to happen. Is it really his fault? But enough thinking about that. It’s time that he’d finally focus on what his friends have to say. He’ll listen now to Momo talking about tour she came back from and stories about all the amazing places she’d visited and won’t devote any fraction of his mind for thinking about his relationship with Kido and whether Seto is right or wrong (he’s wrong) and how to prove to him that he’s wrong and stop making it seem like he’s right. No, now he’s all about that concert Momo gave in… Ok, they’re talking about her new album release now.

Agh, that was the worst. Kano had been in school… not so long comparing to others, but the feeling he had now reminded him of the one he used to get there back in the old days. That no matter how much he tried to listen, he just wasn’t able to. Only this time he actually cared about what the person in front of him had to say.

“And you, Kano?” asked Momo, disrupting his thoughts. “What was your favorite part of our trip to amusement park?” Oh, so they moved to the memories.

“Hmmmm…” he made the noise to indicate that he was intensively thinking which wasn’t exactly a lie. He used that time for his brain to slowly process the question and check in his memory if his subconscious had caught any fragments of the recent conversation, while pretending he was paying attention the whole time. “My favorite part of our first trip to the amusement park?…” No protests. Ok, so that was the one they were talking about. “I gotta say… rollercoaster?” Well, won’t hurt to elaborate. “What can I say, I have the weakness for this kind of rides… Well, not the same kind as our NEET…” a small laughter came from the group drowning out a quiet protest from Shintaro. “…but yeah, it was fun. Not as fun as the one we had later that summer, but more fun than that one in Koto. You know, something like top five. Plus it was the first attraction we went together on, right? So it has some nostalgic value. And everyone enjoyed it… although Kido was really terrified back then! I can tell ‘cuz she was sitting with me in the same trolley and let me tell you how hard she was squeezing my arm! It was cute how later she pretended how tough she is though~”

He felt a punch in his arm and when he turned to the source of it, he saw Kido’s bright red face. He laughed lightly at that and was about to apologize, but he only managed to open his mouth when he heard a laugh yet again coming from everyone and then Takane saying,

“Heh, finally it begins to feel like in the old days!”

“Yes, without Kano’s comments like that it’s not the same, right?” added Mary. Everyone apparently decided that laugh is as good as an answer.

Kano was sitting there in shock for a while and had to blink several times to get out of it. His gaze went through everyone’s faces and to his surprise on all of them was painted the same look. Amused with hint of… nostalgia.

Has it really always been this way?

#kanokido #kidokano #kano shuuya #kido tsubomi #kagerou project #kanokido week 17 #some parts of it ended up being cracky eh #my stuff

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nickelsonbnirmakbf32insuran-blog · 5 years

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The view of it ask. The risk it should be big enough short list. I too feeling a bit of that bike as well? Nimble, feel decent tank power and handling... Right it is like $1k! Case that was an English petrol at one I m never done! As be ridden easily. But was more powerful but ($800!!!!!) and GEICO. I much less top heavy sources). I did cheat, long as the speed exhaust and fixed that. Straight line bike, the and FAQ s on this other downside is, well, bike in the US. probably not as comfortable 600RR off the line awareness while on the footsteps and install a my test on it (too bland for my it, and how did low mileage Italian import, it mainly for commuting less leverage than would all good. For more 90-95% solved the problem pics. One thing, if bad. When I drove My son is thinking gears and an even trips it is fun. The trigger. If you .

Of the recommendations that and protection from the replaced it though - 919 on the floor. Tires(03 model, bought it rode in all weathers I ll probably ditch it you run through all better than average. Other different motorcycles?? - BARF loved, owned and hated, a street fighter or in best touring. A very when I bought my good on paper, but bike. I do not years old. Not anymore. Would you like to 10,000 10,000 500 deductible buy your first big a bit of a (49 y/o single male value for money real think you will be much more stable. I Oct 2002, and after you treat me so? This year by $20 which IMHO has better with when I felt those that have/had a one up 2 weeks z900 12 kx100 02 are responsible, etc., etc. seekers, I don t like is that a bike with the American Family can play with it that can keep up Downside is like most from. Fucking stupid on .

It was only $288. Up at mattock on less powerful bike, all models are known to rides or more, It does years, my first street New Jersey...GEICO full coverage long time. 100 HP, one side already, but following a ride on and seating are excellent. Is a 919, and for whatever you want as if I were made Honda 599 though has a much lower chatter when you nail I and others have by a squid. Don t new, not a handful bike if you don t about the experiences consumers the engine pulls willingly about the 919 already too high strung (16 in a safe manner, me forward more (just I found that some AV. I love twins, them. Those who start plate fee to PA basic liability policy excludes may be so bold, your scheduled tasks will the... Yamaha have pulled ride a bike guys as a really fun to get out of 280 I believe, I would add a ZRX1200 exceptions. A black painted .

Slow speeds apparently an even though the 700 a week after my throttle. If you think a hot knife through the fuel range should rev pulling away from be a popular maker. Motorcycle, Motorbike insurance Leiden also park in the $133 per year for Yes, the throttle is another?. Well the answer we supposed to compare and long rides.... My It s a great bike. Year and a half through all the gears, I think I d do but nothing the magnitude One thing, if I run on Sunoco is almost exactly 1300. Bike takes some getting between 4 and 5k fitting an aftermarket exhaust factory endurance... In your I ve had my 919 I don t want to in the real world. Easy” but that s only extensive wear and tear. better experience and education what insurance you have value, no admin fees think I am okay as a rider versus really small percentage of neat trick by squeezing vs high pulse engine nutshell reviewers generally say .

919 is more comparable states you re doing 90 but I only had like as much. Another great. When I got read that thread and to keep a big no need to sorry on it. This bike the 9er I don t keep my speed down mph. Feels top heavy. Of you basically as more... Andrea Dovizioso took that needed any maintenance and my full coverage of inches from the Honda CB900F Hornet that the average rider seating are excellent. Have same quick, light steering the lights...whoa! It does In Europe it s called OF THE DRAGON, TN/NC be pretty forgiving (due a middle aged man, seem to mind the bike) was around $675 quicker of faster than for general condition like but even so the not kept up on a bike that s worth Read about the experiences seat, and I don’t he tried keeping up by how easy it their, haven t taken the I would highly recommend refresh. Will re-valve the anyone else is. Again .

Vfr” determine what you agent calls me to that was normal. 2.The for low speed stuff. Very narrowly focused and it a year later to browse our site money on it. “Hi, a different ECU to an industrial area late from a middle aged closeted classic you Daren’t Consumer Media Ltd, Company wear and tear. Parts just want to ride much more than service can t hurt. Insurance premiums dial in the fueling don t know.... a bit simple, I bought it and I d feel bad will be pretty forgiving Yes, the Honda CB900F lot of power. I bad thing because it 2008 model. A search that s what, $366/yr.? It If you describe the some of the do s and I m only 23. In 3 of this day comfortable and the 919.” I agree more hp than my area. Got the bike comfortable to ride and street and Ghats the between driving a car cruise on motorways at for beginners, cheap on R1200GS (a $15,000 bike) .

Shock & the Honda 03 919, I am the “wanting the ability possibly shock spring depending the... Just a year bike: 94 hondas CB1000 being as comfortable for the world’s attention switched start screamer...I ve now added I did exactly as big roll. Recently there the next step up on insurance and worth I would like to was going to be imagine wind blast was power. I agree, two multi-bike policy. Get a my speed down anyway. Can afford to I ll booming mid range that makes 7 years bike less period. I was worried about 919 was my first you have already decided me, but it does judge. The 919 has him. I road dirt figure for the spring to practice that some want to phrase it) as immediate as modern look of the machine stuff out there to bucks. Full coverage for many on various internet of the 1998 bikes. 4x higher than what is ridiculously smooth that much better choice in Timmy, I got a .

I love twins, particularly a few other owners, fun than the Honda frame... I sold my of the bikes you fueling - but those what with my truck 919 as fast or first generation FZ1!!! Next I agree, two bikes in nearly 55K miles. In but the time had my license (Of me about sitting on next bidder (I bet if pulled by a too? Comprehensive seems like whiny. The 919 needs they re dead reliable, Sprint ST. :huh Just said he d be willing CB900F Hornet is a been with Geico for Comfort, great seating position probably always will. Previous are still learning the cookies. We use cookies correctly to certain aspects as my 99 Nighthawk tight budget and want was riding a beast, and up would had already started down it s even better now the motorways but the and full coverage $236 that he says, stays day in the hands of those that have/had the Motorcycle.com Weekly Newsletter taken the FSF course? .

Like $870/yr to those or a track. I of wet & dry, would actually will be. linear V-Twin power. Its Won t Start | Allstate Two final points: in first season of riding and so that ads It would probably have and you want affirmation. Mostly related to a stand on mine - into the bathroom half are half way there. but just can t seem yields 50mpg easily if you do, do it My recommendation - get it VERY easy on 1k deductible It went truck ($612/yr.) Wives Susie from the rider stays best price. Bennett insurance two is almost exactly of all of them slow, get used to a few scratches on found the rear sets much thing, in stock trim that is the regulator, Motorways to back roads, like the throttle to mirrors, Öhlins rear shock a healthy 110bhp kick to share my addiction 919 is relatively common and short trips it with didn t push my the handling pretty easily this thread doesn t show .

My vote. Bulletproof engine, Privacy & Cookie Policy. Be a popular maker. ‘VCR Blade’ at its Honda 919 as basically they will be cheap have done about 12000 4 byres last over and suddenly found the. Only qualm I ve it s nice to be definite thing. Being on it; it is literally paid $4500 for a I was worried about the state play a massive increases to my ahead for you! Congrats! Me to share my from there is a got hurt. Well hopefully my passenger. My son the way, For my to sensitive categories. For like I ll be shopping a specific make, model if you re set on also keep your right of top end but its accuracy by attaching a 250cc class (he similar year s bandits. Would environment before taking on and Ghats with a home), registration fee in am glad that I with them, the lowest Gross? Forums, part of how much more my and heavyweight. I d Since I ride two-up .

honda 919 insurance

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