Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
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It's me! Again 😁
Farah x GN reader
just a lazy day with her!!
○Morning cuddles
○Making breakfasts together
○Cuddles and reading
○Take out food, movies, AND MORE CUDDLES
No pressure, take your time, and take care 🫶
THANK YOU!! Lovely request, absolutely lovely idea again! I love Farah, pining for her is one of my favorite pastime activities! You can do absolutely no wrong with cod girls! Thank you for entrusting me with this request, I truly appreciate it!! It ended up being a bit long, like fic length, even if I wanted to write more headcanon things! But that's okay! It happens, it happened before and it will happen again!
Lazy Day with Farah
It wouldn’t be too uncommon for the two of you to be sleeping together at night. It’s warm, it’s calming, it's grounding. For just one night you won’t be worrying about gunshots and people dying, for just one night it’s the two of you and absolutely no one else. But even so, as morning comes, no matter how safely tucked away you’re under Farah’s chin, responsibilities await. A growling stomach and the ever growing urge to use the bathroom being your biggest enemies as you revel in her presence. Your eyes are still closed, but discomfort washes over you either way, not only because of the two aforementioned conditions, but because they won’t go away on their own. It’s disdainful, really, having to get up because the human body can’t control itself, but you had to lest something worth being scolded for happens.
Slowly, as to not rouse her from her sleep, you try to untangle yourself from Farah, but to no avail. Small in stature, she’s much stronger than anyone would think, her grip simply tightening on you. Even so, her lips curve upwards and a chuckle escapes her. In order to get a good look at you, she moves her head a bit backwards, beautiful brown eyes boring into your own. Her gaze was soft but not hazy, she must have been awake for a while, it seemed. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, she hummed a little tune before finally wishing you a good morning. You had finally awoken and she admitted to having been awake for a while. Her warmth makes you feel right at home as you nuzzle into her once again, a sigh leaving your lips. After wishing her a good morning, you complain, not wanting to get up to use the bathroom, thinking that staying in bed is a much more favorable choice just so you can take her in for a few more minutes. Your wishes were unheard as your stomach, filled with nothing but air, growled once again. Despite agreeing with you, Farah chuckled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before getting up. After all, if she was no longer in bed with you, then you had another incentive to take care of your needs.
Her plan bore fruit. As she got herself a glass of water in the kitchen, she could hear the toilet being flushed before you, half asleep and not yet ready to tackle the day, trudged into view, your posture slouched. Taking a seat on the chair, you whined yet again, your eyes small, just barely open. It was a surprise you could see anything at all. In hopes of getting back into the warm bed, you made grabby hands at her, not bearing to even think about the room temperature kitchen, seeming so cold on your warm skin. A pat on the back and some teasing encouragement was all you got as she walked past you towards the cabinet, pulling out a pan. Even as you barely registered what she was doing, you asked her whether or not you could help her out a bit. It was much appreciated as, after setting the pan down onto the stove and while tying her hair, she said yes, calling you to her even if she wouldn’t trust you with the stove just yet. She explained to you that she was in the mood for something you both liked, something simple that wasn’t too hard to make: Kikliko. You had made those before, so it didn’t seem like too much of a task.
Two eggs, some white bread, milk, salt and oil. Eggs, milk and salt were mixed together, last one was poured into the pan. Whisking them together, you zoned out a few times as you did so. As you watched the bread soak a bit in the mixture, you were torn from your empty thoughts, interrupted with a kiss to the cheek as Farah took the bread and put it in the pan, frying it for a moment. The process was repeated a few times. By the time you were done you had some delicious food you could easily digest and stomach. And that you did, eating together while you hummed a few responses to her questions, slowly waking up to give her proper ones. It was an adorable sight to Farah. You munching on some kikliko, sighing contently as she told you about her and Alex’ endeavors, how well everything was going. Soon enough you and her could live in peace without having to worry about freedom. She had her cause, and ever since meeting you, you were a big part of it.
Although you were more sappy than she was, you expressed your gratitude, thanking her for fighting the way she does, as valiantly as she can for the freedom of her people. You may not be a soldier, but if you can make her life just the tiniest bit easier, give her something to look forward to at home and help her relax with the consequences of fighting being far from her mind for just a moment, then you know you did everything right. The sentiment got to her, a gentle smile on her face as she listened to your words intently. You did so much more than that, you made a house a home, somewhere she could settle down, enjoy her life and not be subjected to enough stress to kill most people. But you’d never know how strongly she actually felt about you. There are thousands of languages in this world, each with their own unique words, to have a chance at conveying something, anything at all. And even in those thousands of languages, not a single one could ever put into words just how much she loved you.
You put the dishes in the sink, got ready for the day, only to settle for lazing on the couch for another few minutes. A few minutes turned into an hour, an hour into several. The only time you both left each other’s arms was to grab a book each, deciding on reading to each other. It was pleasant, listening to Farah read stories out loud you couldn’t understand. One Thousand and One Nights, a book renowned throughout the world, of origins that can only be speculated these days. You couldn’t speak or understand Arabic past counting to ten, but she made those words flow from her tongue so easily, so beautifully. Indeed, she could have told you about anything, from cruel kings to malevolent spirits, and you’d be none the wiser, but it was so pleasant to listen to. Lying on her chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath, feeling the vibrations of her voice. Your eyes were closed throughout most of the story, merely open to sometimes get a look at the foreign letters. It was astounding, how a completely different language had different letters that seemed as easy to read as the latin alphabet to some people.
But when it was finally your turn to read, allowing Farah’s vocal chords some well deserved rest, so she can bless your ears and your heart with her voice once more at a later time, you let your love settle on you instead, allowing her to rest on your chest. It was a book you had liked for quite some time, having read its contents more than once already. A collection of poems and love songs from long ago. Fragments were missing, never found, lost to time forever. But what has been passed down for you and your people to see, was as beautiful as it could be. And thus, you started reading:
It’s very easy to make this clear
to everyone, for Helen,
by far surpassing mortals in beauty,
left the best of all husbands
and sailed to Troy,
mindful of neither her child
nor her dear parents, but
with one glimpse she was seduced by
Aphrodite. For easily bent...
and nimbly...
has reminded me now
of Anactoria who is not here;
I would much prefer to see the lovely
way she walks and the radiant glance of her face
than the war-chariots of the Lydians or
their footsoldiers in arms.
Another sappy and lovestruck thing you said that day, it seemed to never end. But how could it? When you had your very own Venus lying so warmly on top of you, listening to every word you said. But a small comment was all you got from Farah. You were sappy, you were lovestruck and nauseous with adoration for the woman you held oh so gently. The words you read made your heart sing with glee, Farah was the audience for an ode to love and joy. Holding your own goddess in your arms, you continued to read, hoping your voice was as soothing to her as hers was to you. As time went on, your voice getting raspier and drier, you were distracted by your beloved staring at you from her comfortable position. A bashful smile made its way onto your lips, your voice, otherwise resolute, becoming more quiet and shaky as you tried to be serious, as you tried to hide your smile.
Hours had passed ever since you started reading and cuddling, it was only a matter of time until a human body, needy as it could be, would start to make itself known once again. Otherwise so content with floating in space, forgetting about your earthly needs, it was this void in your stomach that asked to be filled yet again. A sisyphean task, if one really thought about it. It wasn’t a plea, not a question either, but more of a demand than anything else: Farah was hungry, but she couldn’t be bothered to cook that time, too comfortable to get up. You leaving her wasn’t an option either, the only solution to the conundrum you were facing being to ask someone else to cook for you. You had money and no motivation to perform this specific task. Therefore, you took out your phone after putting the book on the table, typing in the website that would allow you to order food.
The decision was unanimous, something simple but filling it was going to be. One could do absolutely no wrong with a burger. Both of you chose one the other wasn’t going to take, the reasoning being that you could try each other’s food in that case. This was a lie on your behalf. You had had a burger from that place before, the exact one Farah chose, so all that was left for you to do was steal her food.
But until then, time needed to be killed. It was simple enough: Turning on the TV, watching some documentary about marine life. The moment the crab was in danger of being eaten by a shark, your adrenaline spiked, having gotten attached to the critter already. Invested in its life, you silently cursed the fish for scaring the little crustacean. It was an unfair fight from the start, the crab could have never won against the bite force of a shark, leaving it vulnerable and defenseless.
The documentary was fine to Farah. Crabs weren’t something she was invested in, but watching your facial expression change just a bit was amusing. The way you’d frown at sharks, the way you’d light up a bit upon watching new crabs hatch, the way you’d look relieved when they reached land and finally matured. How you could possibly love some animal in a documentary was beyond her, but it was adorable. You had such a big heart, always taking care of others, it was only natural someone had to protect you as well. Such was Farah’s job. And when the person delivering your food rang on the door, you jumped, not expecting them to have been this quick.
Whereas Farah did not negotiate, you did, wanting to see more baby crabs on the beach, thus asking Farah to come get the food. She agreed, but only if you got the cutlery for them. It was a fair deal, but you hurried to the kitchen regardless, the clanging of metal being rather loud.
Just for another second, your eyes were glued to the screen before tearing themselves away from baby animals to welcome a big, hearty burger with open arms.
The food was pretty good, but you couldn’t look away from Farah’s burger. Vile as always, you got to work as she was chewing on a piece, cutting a piece of her burger off and eating it instead. You kicked her while she was down, leading to her getting some revenge and taking away your curly fries privileges. You were certain by the time you were both done you had eaten more of each other’s food than your own. But it didn’t matter, you were both full and content. Taking the cutlery and takeout boxes into the kitchen, you refilled your glasses of water, adding a lemon slice into both of them. The glasses, however, had to have been at a safe distance before Farah would unleash her final, deadliest attack.
You were safe then, unassuming and a bit sluggish from just having eaten burgers and fries, it was the perfect time to strike. Arms wrapped around your waist, Farah pulled you down onto the couch. No matter how much you struggled, how much resisted, there was no way you could have won. Just like the crab with its puny shell within the shark’s maw, you were caught in Farah’s arms. Indeed, you were done for when she pulled you into her lap. In order to steady yourself, show yourself as more dominant than you really were, you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. A kiss from her turned into a kiss from you, both of you trying to outdo each other, show the other they were more loved.
In the end, neither of you would stay serious, giggling with each other after the tenth or so kiss. A battle of wits, of dominance and fun: Who could out-cuddle the other? You had half a day left to find out!
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