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yurureri-yurari · 1 year

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the ant and the grasshopper - chapter 1: めんどう

Premise: めんどう; mendou. Definition: trouble, difficulty, care, attention.

Sources: Image

Author’s Notes:

Nagi’s apartment number is fictitious.

— ⬟ —

“Nice to meet everyone; my name is Nakahara Rio. I look forward to being in class with you all.”

Just as she practiced several times the night before.

“Nakahara-san? Um, earth to Nakahara-san?”

“…! Oh— I’m sorry; I was a little too engrossed with the scenery outside, haha.”

That part would take a little time. Nothing to worry about.

Nakahara Rio’s first high school year was starting with ease. She secured new friends, the class president position, a student council position—most of her short-term goals were fulfilled. All that was left was finding a part-time job to pay for her portion of rent for her apartment, the other portion being paid for by her parents.

From the neighboring Kanagawa, she had come to Tokyo on her own to start anew and attend one of the capital’s top prep schools: Hakuho High. Away from her parents and siblings, she knew she would get lonely, but… not to the extent that she was feeling now.

Rio sighed to herself as she boarded her apartment building’s elevator with grocery bags in hand and school bag over her shoulder.

“It’s only been about two weeks and I already miss everyone a lot…” she muttered to herself.

She stared at the closed doors as the elevator went up, an unsure look glazing her expression.

… Those two aren’t going to fall behind in grades while I’m not there, are they?

With a chime, the pathway opened to her floor.

Oh, well… I’ll just have to believe in them. Try to believe in them.

Exiting as she blinked, when she opened her eyes again, she froze.

“...?”

Across from her by her next-door neighbor’s door, a white-clad person was on the floor; perhaps said neighbor?

Rio approached them.

It was a male student from her school, she recognized his blazer to have the same designs as hers. His arms were crossed over his chest like an Egyptian mummy, his eyes closed with his expression appearing uncomfortable.

… Is he unconscious or is he sleeping?

“Um… Excuse me,” she called out to him as she looked down at his face. “Are you okay?”

There was no response.

He was clearly breathing from the rise and fall of his chest, so there was no need to panic over a strangely positioned corpse.

Rio put her bags down, crouching beside him. She put a hand on his forehead under his overgrown fringe.

No temperature. His position is weird, but I shouldn’t overrule unconsciousness. Just in case, I should call—

A stomach growl ripped through the silence of the corridor as she was about to press on the number “1” on her smartphone’s dial. It wasn’t from her.

She stared at the boy in frozen disbelief.

… By chance… did this person collapse from hunger?

“... Unbelievable,” Rio uttered out loud.

— ⬟ —

After dropping her items in her apartment and dragging a large body that was probably even taller than her younger brother in, who was much taller than her, Rio gave herself a well-earned five-minute break from the hard effort she just made before she started cooking. Five minutes wasn’t enough for the workout she just had, but she didn’t want to prolong the boy’s hunger any longer. She hoped the neighbor who saw her earlier wasn’t going to call the authorities on her.

Some time later, perhaps allured by the smell of herbs, her unexpected guest awoke from his sleep when she was filling a bowl with rice porridge from the pot she made it in.

“Where am I…?” he spoke, rubbing his eyes.

“In your neighbor’s apartment,” Rio told him, shortly walking over to his side. She placed his bowl on the small table next to him. “Here; please eat. It should be easy to digest something like this.”

“Oh; thank you for the food,” the boy replied, digging right in.

She stared at him in confusion at his nonchalant disposition and lack of caution.

Did I pick up a classmate or an abandoned child?

“So… are you the resident of apartment 511?” she posed a question. “This is 510, by the way.”

He hummed a confirmation.

“Why were you lying outside your door, if I may ask?”

“I got hungry when I came home from school and it was a lot more of a pain to unlock my door than usual because of that, so I decided to sleep it off.”

It was a pain…?

“I… see… Do you not have any food?”

“I have jelly drinks everyday, but lately it’s been a pain to sip these days.”

The more she was learning about this boy, the more her initial opinion of him lowered.

“From that uniform you’re wearing, we both go to Hakuho High School, correct? I don’t think we’re in the same class; what’s your name and year?”

“Nagi Seishirou; first year.”

“I’m I… Nakahara Rio, a first year as well. It’s nice to meet you, Nagi-san.”

She practiced for school, but she hadn’t practiced yet for everywhere else, the realization hit her. He didn’t seem to notice anyway, thankfully.

“Thank you for reviving me, Nakahara,” Nagi expressed to her, his bowl empty.

“You’re welcome…” Rio responded.

“I’m going to my own apartment now.”

“Okay…”

She followed him to the entrance, still frazzled by his strangeness as she watched him put his shoes on.

Nagi Seishirou was certainly as tall as she had thought when she dragged him into her apartment. He seemed to have no sense of caution and from how he carried himself, he was, frankly, considerably lazy. Granted, she was still wearing her school uniform, but jelly drinks as a meal every day? It had become “a pain to sip”?

This person is going to die from malnutrition or hunger.

Was what Rio thought matter-of-factly.

“Nagi-san?” she called out to him before he opened the door.

He looked over his shoulder at her, who was holding her phone up.

“Can we exchange contacts?”

“Why? Also, I don’t use LINE.”

“That’s fine. I want us to exchange contacts in case a situation happens where we need the other person. All the more reason to as classmates and neighbors.”

Nagi thought for a moment. Then he offered his phone to her after entering his passcode.

“Only for emergencies.”

She smiled out of politeness, exchanging her phone for his to put her phone number in.

“Yes.”

This person is going to die from malnutrition or hunger, she had thought earlier. And if she could do something about that, which she could and just did, she would do it. Even though it would certainly be—borrowing his catchphrase—a pain, judging from her observations.

In that case, she would be a pain to him too to even it out.

#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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yurureri-yurari · 1 year

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feather on the water - chapter 2: name

Premise: The pure water ripples, the pure heart resounds with harmony.

Directory: 1 | 2

“Come on, Miyoshi,” Matsuda said with a sigh. “Just say you’ll do our work and we’ll stop; it’s as easy as that.”

Yua clutched her folder tightly as she was on the floor of the empty hallway. She tried to not make any noises, only letting tears flow from the painful blows she received just moments ago.

“Shingo-kun, I don’t think she can answer you after getting hit like that,” Yokoyama made a hopeless, yet amused smile.

“She sure had the energy to snatch her folder back in a flash though,” Chiba pointed out.

“Well, that’s because she’s probably experienced in stealing without being noticed, since she’s poor and all,” Yokoyama shrugged. “Which is too bad; I told you two we should drag her outside so that we could burn it in front of her.”

The fear in Yua grew as she heard that, causing her to clench her folder even tighter, but so did her disgust for their motive and actions. And in that disgust, she interrupted their taunting with a voice just loud enough for them to hear.

“Y-You all…”

She used whatever strength she had left to not sound as broken as she could, distracting herself with attempting to sit up. The three looked down at her.

“You all are… disgraces for… composers…”

“What was that?” Matsuda questioned with a low voice.

“I… refuse to do your… bidding…” she breathed heavily, leaning against the wall. “Please do your work… yourselves… Matsuda-san…”

Her classmates were silent, whether in deciding their next actions or in astonishment at her bluntness, until Matsuda spoke for them.

“You’re surprisingly stubborn, Miyoshi. Well, nothing a little more ‘persuasion’ can change!”

He pulled her up by the collar, pushing her back against the wall and raised his hand. Yua clenched her eyes shut in preparation for the incoming impact.

“Hey! What the hell are you guys doing!?” a voice yelled at them from down the hall.

Matsuda stopped in his tracks, looking in the owner of the voice’s direction after he let her drop back to the floor.

“Oh, it’s just a Non-Special Student,” he remarked. “You forget the way to the practice room for cleanup or something? These are the classrooms, y’know.”

Yua turned her head at the Non-Special, recognizing him as the one who’d been sent on fetch quest for her classmate while she was in the classroom alone.

“I asked what the hell were you guys doing,” the Non-Special Student repeated himself, approaching them. He eyed her for a moment, recognition flashing in his eyes, before focusing on her classmates again.

“We’re just having a friendly chat with our fellow classmate, so go back to your master or whatever you Non-Specials do,” Yokohama answered him.

“This doesn’t exactly look ‘friendly’ to me,” he said, his hands becoming fists as he looked at her again now that he was closer.

Yua shook her head slightly at him to disapprove of his ideas of intervening, but he didn’t seem to listen.

“Hey, back off,” Chiba noticed the boy’s growing anger. “This is none of a failure’s business.”

His eyes seemed to darken at that. “It is now.”

With the Non-Special’s clean punch to Chiba and Yokohama’s shout of his name, a fight began. Yua, despite her soreness, immediately clung onto Matsuda’s leg to keep him from backing up his collaborator for however long as possible before she lost her grip from being kicked in the stomach.

Yokohama took advantage of her broken guard by attempting to take her folder again, but Yua managed to catch it by the end. She put her weight into her hold as her classmate pulled and both lost their grip, sending her folder flying with escaped music sheets as Yokohama fell back.

The noise brought a teacher forth, whose voice stopped everyone. It was a teacher who taught Yua, Matsuda, and Yokohama’s class.

“What in the world is going on?!”

In response, everyone lined up before the teacher on instinct except for Yua, who could only manage sitting up and doing her best to straighten out her appearance quickly.

“Explain yourselves this instant!” demanded their teacher.

“I—” the Non-Special Student began.

Matsuda cut him off by talking over him. “Sensei, we… we saw this Non-Special bullying Miyoshi, so we stepped in and tried to get him to stop, but then he started a fight with us.”

“Like hell did that happen!” the boy exclaimed with anger.

“That’s right!” Yokohama backed Matsuda before turning to Yua. “Are you okay, Miyoshi-san? It looks like that Non-Special hurt you really badly; we should get you to the infirmary!”

Within her classmate’s feigned innocence, Yua sensed the malice of a threat. A threat of bringing more harm to her if she didn’t play along. However, she remained silent.

“Miyoshi-kun,” the teacher turned to her. “Is this true?”

Everyone looked at her in anticipation of her answer. She met eyes with each one of them before returning her gaze to the carpet.

“It’s the opposite…” Yua said almost quietly. “... Matsuda-san, Chiba-san, and Yokohama-san were the ones who assaulted me.”

“I see,” her teacher replied with disappointment. “Then the three of you whose name was spoken are to come with me to the faculty office.”

Matsuda and the others attempted to reason with him, but they were silenced.

“And you, Non-Special Student,” he looked at the boy. “Take Miyoshi-kun to the infirmary and come to the faculty office immediately after. Even if it was to defend Miyoshi-kun, a Non-Special Student fighting a Special Student is unacceptable.”

Before he could argue as well, Yua spoke up as she stood with the aid of the window sill and bowed as best she could manage. “No, please punish me for this Non-Special Student’s actions; as his superior, I should have had better control of him.”

The boy looked at her in surprise, questioning her with his eyes on why she was taking the blame for him.

“Very well,” the teacher replied without argument. “Come to the faculty office first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yes.”

With that, her classmates were off, sending the two glares over their shoulders.

Once they were out of sight, the Non-Special turned to Yua.

“Are you okay?”

The sight of the injuries he sustained in coming to her aid filled her with guilt. She could feel her eyes fill with water and she tried to contain them. As always, however, they escaped her.

“P-Please accept my deepest apologies…!” she lowered her head to him at once. It was partially to hide her overflowing tears, which fell to the floor.

“E-Eh?” he uttered in response. “Uh, you don’t have to apologize for anything, so please raise your head...”

She shook her still lowered head. “B-But because of me, you got h-hurt…!”

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing since you took the fall for me.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Nonetheless, he also bowed. “So, I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused you. And… thank you for being truthful.”

Both raised their heads at the same time, Yua sniffling.

She shook her head. “The least I could d-do was take your punishment. But you t-too… T-Thank you for defending me.” She gave another bow, smaller in degree this time.

He offered her his handkerchief. She apologized again, this time over her tears. She hated her susceptibility to crying, as though it would even solve anything.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked her again.

She nodded. “What about you?”

“I’m used to it, so not too bad.”

His response caused an apologetic look flicker in her eyes.

“... You’re the one who was sent to get something for Endou-san, right?”

She bowed for a third time. “I didn’t introduce myself then; I’m Miyoshi Yua. Please take care of me.”

The boy briefly showed little surprise that she remembered him before doing the same. “Sazanami Jun; likewise.”

They turned to the mess that was Yua’s scattered music sheets, picking them up together and returning them inside her folder. As they did so, she explained to Jun why her three classmates picked on her, hesitantly revealing to him that she was from a poor family. To her surprise, however, his response was to call her classmates idiots before apologizing for his crude language. She only gave an anxious smile as she assured him it was no issue.

“Can you walk, Miyoshi-san?” Jun asked as they rose up from finishing.

“I’m still a bit sore, but I can,” she answered, using the wall for support when she got up.

He stared at her for a moment as though gauging her current condition before speaking again in almost a mumble. “I’d do it the other way, but since you’re carrying something…”

With an “excuse me,” Jun lifted her up as though she were a bride.

She felt her heart jump out of her chest. “S-S-Sazanami-san?!”

“I’ll carry you to the infirmary,” he told her with a slight dust of pink over his face. “It’ll be faster this way.”

“N-No, I-I—! This—!” Yua could feel her brain short-circuit as she lost her ability to form sentences. Giving up on reasoning with him, she covered her bright red face with her folder. “... T-Thank… you… S-Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” he assured her a bit quietly, keeping his eyes in front of him as he started walking off with her.

#yu&me [miyoshi yua]#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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yurureri-yurari · 1 year

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feather on the water - chapter 1: i want to love this world

Premise: She was a strange Special Student.

Sources: Title & Song

Directory: 1 | 2

Jun silently grumbled through the halls of Reimei Academy, eyeing Music Course Special Student classroom numbers until he found the one he was looking for. With an exasperated sigh, he entered his destination, pausing at the sight of a light-haired female student standing at the window on the opposite side. Her tie was striped with white and blue, meaning she was a Special Student.

The afternoon sun shone on her, the spring cherry blossoms lightly breezing at the girl from the opened window. She gazed out with melancholy, softly singing along with the song playing through the earphones she wore to fill the silent room.

“... but I know that I still have to live my life. “Wherever I am, here or there, the hands on the clock won’t turn back.

“I want to vanish, I want to vanish away. “Those words, they tear me apart like blades. “I won’t vanish; as long as you’re here, this world is not so bad.”

It was only until the girl stopped singing that Jun realized he had been staring at her for that long. She turned her head his way then, light blue eyes meeting his yellows, and he put his guard up. After a moment, her face became the same color as the cherry blossoms.

“H-H-Hello,” the girl stuttered, hurriedly taking off her earphones before politely bowing. “Is there something you n-need from me?”

“Hey,” Jun greeted back casually before quickly correcting himself by returning her gesture. He felt his guard muddle with surprise at her lack of the high-and-mighty attitude that he associated with Specials. More so that she bowed to him, a Non-Special. “I mean, hello.”

He was still getting started on [begrudgingly] practicing his manners with how strict the academy was on it in maintaining the difference in power between the Special Students and the Non-Special Students.

“I’m here to pick something up for Endou—Endou-san—from his desk that he forgot; can you tell me where he sits… please?”

“Y-Yes; it’s over here.” She walked over to one side of one of the several shared desks. “Oh, is this what Endou-san forgot?” she asked, holding up an eraser.

“Yeah—I mean, yes,” Jun responded. He used all of his mental strength to restrain himself from showing his annoyance at being sent on a fetch quest for a measly eraser.

The girl frowned. “I-I see… I’m sorry you had to do this…”

An exasperated sigh escaped him still. “It is what it is with the difference in status.”

He walked over to her, accepting the item from her as they exchanged a thank-you and you’re-welcome.

“You should hurry back to Endou-san before you get in trouble for taking too long,” she advised, making an anxious smile.

“I will,” Jun assured her with a small smile in return. “Thank you, again.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“See you—er, goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

He left the classroom, getting a final look at her from the corner of his eye as he went through the door.

What a weird Special Student, Jun thought to himself as he continued down the halls. She was polite and humble—completely opposite to that guy he met during the entrance ceremony. Moreover, from the song she was singing before he interrupted her with his presence, she seemed unhappy.

What could a Special even be unhappy about when they had everything at the school?

#yu&me [miyoshi yua]#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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yurureri-yurari · 2 years

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miyoshi yua - !! main story

Chapter/Episode titles are taken from fan-translations, not the official English localization.

Chapter 3: Tumultuous Times

Episode 59 - Noises

Yua appears to ALKALOID as Tatsumi ascertains sheet music to have fallen on Mayoi, who stiffens at her arrival. She apologizes for the trouble before recognizing Tatsumi, who she previously composed for when she was a first year. The two catch up and discuss his recovery from “the incident,” Yua apologizing that she didn’t visit Tatsumi at all due to being prevented by privacy reasons, which he assures her that it’s fine.

Tatsumi introduces Yua to Hiiro, Aira, and Mayoi. Aira questions Yua if she’s the Yu&Me who composes for Eden, one of the Big Three. He internally fanboys over her as she confirms her identity before warning the three to keep their knowledge of her real name and full appearance strictly confidential. Hiiro hands her the fallen sheet music, which Yua apologizes for again.

Just as she’s about to explain why it’s raining music sheets, they hear someone loudly yelling about their lack of inspiration. Yua anxiously laughs as Tatsumi and Aira question where the voice is coming from. She catches the next batch of falling papers with Hiiro’s help, responding to Mayoi’s ghost story that there’s no ghost; it’s Leo who’s throwing blank sheet music from a higher floor. Thanking Hiiro, Yua thinks to herself that he resembles Rinne to an extent and wonders if they’re related. Aira disappointingly explains to Hiiro and Tatsumi who Leo is at their lack of knowledge, becoming happy when Mayoi is the opposite from those two.

Tatsumi suggests they return Leo’s sheet music; they may have been blown away by the wind. Yua anxiously smiles, remarking that Tatsumi still assumes the best of others as he did two years ago. As they make their way up to Leo, Hiiro, Aira, and Mayoi introduce themselves to Yua as STARMAKER PRODUCTIONS’ new idol unit ALKALOID. Yua recognizes the name, thinking about how Anzu previously asked her if she could work with them in their debut. However, she couldn’t due to Crazy:B already occupying her.

Episode 60 - Exception

Before Yua can question if Hiiro is related to Rinne, Aira points Leo out and approaches him as she warns him too late to not speak to him. Yua asks Leo to forgive Aira and she successfully pacifies the lion by merely making her presence known as he immediately latches onto her in a tackle that nearly topples her over. Leo pleads Yua to share with him any inspiration she has and whines about his lack thereof. Yua replies in a strained voice that she can’t because they’ll potentially make similar-sounding songs as a result. She politely asks him to give her space. He does so and she’s able to breathe easy again to give him a light lecture to not sacrifice his own health over composing, mumbling that she shouldn’t be the one to say that at the moment though.

Leo casually tells Yua that he won’t overdo it before paying attention to Aira again, asking who he is. Mayoi’s fawning over Leo brings Leo inspiration, making him content. As Leo converses with Hiiro, Aira points Anzu out, who flees in being discovered. Leo is saddened at this, but realizes it’s because of ALKALOID and not him who she’s avoiding after Hiiro, Aira, and Tatsumi discuss how their contact with Anzu has become rather minimal. Leo shows pity while Yua seems apologetic as they both recognize the position ALKALOID is in, Hiiro not understanding them.

Episode 65 - Nobility

After Jun apologizes to Tatsumi for bothering him, he asks if Tatsumi has met with Yua yet. Tatsumi responds that just some time ago, he did, and he comments that it seems like a lot has happened with the two, seeing that they’ve become incredibly successful since he last saw them.

Episode 67 - Honorable

Tatsumi apologizes to the rest of ALKALOID for getting carried away with talking to Hiyori and Jun as he did with Yua. Aira dismisses the apology, recognizing Tatsumi’s skill as an idol to be respected by Jun.

#yu&me [miyoshi yua]#history’s eyes [original characters]

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yurureri-yurari · 2 years

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miyoshi yua - discord ◆ internal conquest

Chapter/Episode titles are taken from fan-translations, not the official English localization.

Prologue

Yua participates in the Eden meeting about the proposal of the Conquest plan. She first states that she's personally not a fan of it before later saying that she does recognize its profitability, more so after hearing Ibara elaborate on that. The boys comedically show worry about how they’re influencing Yua, because if it were a year ago, she would have been absolutely against the plan no matter what.

The Fool's Fruit

Hiyori crashes at Jun and Kohaku's Reimei dorm, once his dorm before he graduated. [Rewrite] Kohaku trades dorms with Yua for the night as Jun and Yua try to sort out Hiyori's conflict with the Conquest plan [End Rewrite]. In comparison to Jun's harsh encouragement, Yua gives a softer one, but retains agreement with things Jun said.

In an ES elevator, Ibara and Jun converse about how they take care of Nagisa and Hiyori respectively. Jun mentions that Yua did all the cooking for Hiyori in the beginning, but because Jun felt bad having to bother her every time for that, he asked her to teach him how to cook to avoid that.

Upon the discussion of the May blues with Anzu, Ibara boasts that none of Eden would be affected by such a phenomena before off-handedly remarking that at the very least, Yua would be, as her popularity increased after being recognized as the music composer for both finalist performances for the last SS, so she's gotten busier as a result.

Yua participates in the second Eden meeting regarding the Conquest plan, nervously waving at Ibara and Jun when they arrive at the office on the scene of Nagisa and Hiyori sitting with her in tense silence.

As Nagisa suddenly acts similar to his dictator idol persona, Ibara, Jun, and Yua speculate what's going on with him in whispers. The former two question if the latter's teachings did this, to which she denies.

Armageddon

Jun is worn out with being dragged around by Hiyori in his rampage of daily lives and accepting work for Eve. Hiyori offers to call Yua to come over and smile for him to boost his energy, to which Jun declines. She's currently working on the song for the Conquest plan, so he doesn't want to bother her as much as her smile would indeed help him feel better, even if just for a moment.

In expressing how stressed he is about how the Conquest plan will end, Jun mentions that he's especially worried about Yua, who seems to be uncharacteristically not as stressed about the situation.

Hiyori ranks the people he values most in his life, to which Jun remarks that the distance between first place and second place would be very far from each other, so making a ranking after first place has no point. Hiyori casually agrees; it would be like comparing Jun's value of Yua to anyone else. Except maybe Jin. Jun doesn't deny that he values Yua that much, avoiding being elaborative on that lest his feelings for her become text by questioning why Hiyori would bring Jin up. Hiyori amusingly notices, but plays along.

Epilogue

Nagisa and Hiyori reveal that their discord was all an act to Ibara and Jun before they are to perform their live. The former duo adds that Yua, being emotionally perceptive as she was, was the only one who caught on to their true motive, so they instructed her to not say anything about it. Jun replies to this that it was no wonder she wasn't as worried as he thought she would be.

As Hiyori assures Jun that Eve would never part from Eden, in the audience, Yua breathes a sigh of relief with the truths revealed. She thinks back to how Hiyori regarded Eden as a family. It took some time and there was even a point where she wanted to give up on that idea, but they finally reached that milestone she wished for them. Their little family was only beginning, but this alone made her very happy already.

#yu&me [miyoshi yua]#history’s eyes [original characters]

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yurureri-yurari · 2 years

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eirwyn isolde - r school uniform vignette: the kind-hearted snow queen

— Scene: Night Raven College Campus - Classroom, Day —

(Footsteps; Eirwyn appears)

Eirwyn: Here are my notes for today’s class.

(Silver appears)

Silver: Oh; thanks. Sorry you have to do this all the time; you don’t have to, really.

Eirwyn: *Puts her hands together* It’s fine. It can’t be helped that you have a strange condition to fall asleep at any moment regardless of if you’re tired or not.

Silver: *Scratches the back of his head* I suppose, but I still feel bad.

Eirwyn: *Normal* ...

Silver: *Normal* Did I say something wrong?

Eirwyn: *Holds her forearm* No; it’s just that usually, people take offense and call me “the Snow Queen” when I make remarks like that because of my tone.

Silver: I don’t deny that I fall asleep a lot like you said. Regardless, I know you don’t mean any harm, because you’re a kind person.

Eirwyn: *Crosses her arms* Me? Kind? You must be mistaken.

Silver: *Puts his hand on his hip* Before you were sharing your notes with me, you’ve been watching over me whenever you find me asleep in odd places since our first year. So, I’m not mistaken.

Eirwyn: *Holds her wrist* You... knew about that?

Silver: Yeah.

Eirwyn: For how long?

Silver: *Normal* Since the first time. The animals described your appearance to me when I woke up and it was easy to pinpoint it was you since, you know.

Silver: You didn’t seem to want to be noticed for it, so I didn’t say anything.

Eirwyn: I see...

Eirwyn: You always look remarkably at peace when you’re asleep, so I thought it would be rude to wake you up.

Eirwyn: And a retainer of Malleus’ or not, it would be no good to catch a cold when you’re sleeping outside, making it important that you have a blanket.

Silver: *Scratches the back of his head; smiling* Yeah; you have my thanks. I really mean it.

Eirwyn: ... It’s nothing.

Silver: *Puts his hand on his hip, tilting his head* But again, I perceive you as a kind person, Eirwyn.

Eirwyn: *Holds her forearm; looking away* You’re still going to go on about that?

Silver: *Straightens his head* You always help me and Kalim with classwork—especially Kalim, since Jamil’s not in the same class. I’ve heard that you tutor a few of the first years too.

Silver: Then there’s Malleus-sama. Unlike most, you aren’t intimidated by his presence and you spend time with him.

Silver: It’s for these reasons I don’t see “the Snow Queen.”

Eirwyn: *Normal; looking at him* I’m only doing what anyone else would do; it’s not as special as you’re making it out to be.

Eirwyn: Additionally, my lack of being intimidated by Malleus is because of circumstances. If it weren’t for those, I might have been like the others.

Eirwyn: *Holds her forearm* Nonetheless... thank you for thinking of me as kind, Silver-san, even though I don’t see myself like that.

Silver: *Normal* You’re welcome. At the very least, you acknowledge my sentiments.

Eirwyn: *Normal* Yes; I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.

Silver: Sorry to have kept you; I’ll be heading out now. See you tomorrow.

Eirwyn: Mm; see you.

(Footsteps; Silver leaves)

Eirwyn: ...

Eirwyn: *Puts a hand on her chest; embarrassed; looking away* ... You’re bad for the heart, Silver-san.

— ❅ —

Extra: Card Voice Lines

Summon Animation: "I only wish to have a quiet student life.“

Groovification Animation: "I’m a kind person? No; I’m simply doing what any person would…”

Set to Home Screen: "Did you need something from me?“

Home Transition 1: "If you need help with your studies, I can tutor you.”

Home Transition 2: "Is that all you needed? Then I’m leaving then. … Please don’t give me those eyes.“

Home Transition 3: "Have you met ‘him’? I’m sure 'he’ would take delight in meeting you, considering you seem to lack what is common knowledge.”

Home, After Login: "Another day, another chance for trouble with boys…“

Tap Home 1: "A word of advice: don’t put your trust in Headmage Crowley.”

Tap Home 2: "Please don’t refer to me by that nickname 'the Snow Queen.’ I would appreciate not hearing that everywhere I go.“

Tap Home 3: "Have you gotten used to student life here yet? I’m here to help you on any step of the way if needed.”

Tap Home 4: "It’s unfortunate that we have to share the dormitory with ghosts. If any of them bother you, tell me and I’ll make sure they won’t do it again.“

Tap Home 5: ”*Gasp* Ahem; please don’t touch me unless it’s absolutely necessary. … What was that sound earlier, you ask? You must be hearing things.“

#snow queen [eirwyn isolde]#history’s eyes [original characters]

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yurureri-yurari · 2 years

Text

a twisted [winter] wonderland

Premise: A calm before a blizzard.

— ❅ —

Eirwyn sat in the headmage’s office of the prestigious Night Raven College, alone. Ghosts floated around her in their musings, disappearing after handing her a saucer and cup with black tea. She eyed the seven portraits floating around the desk one by one, reviewing her own knowledge of them to pass the time.

The door behind her opened, a masked, extravagantly-dressed man walking in—Headmage Dire Crowley.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Miss Isolde!” he greeted her as he was on his way to his desk.

She rose from her seat to give a small bow before sitting again. “Not at all, Headmage Crowley; the wait wasn’t long.”

Seeing the girl looking around to find someplace to leave her empty teacup and saucer, Crowley said, “Ah, allow me.”

With a wave of his gloved hand, the wares disappeared from her hands.

“Thank you,” she showed courtesy.

“Yes; aren’t I kind?” he merrily replied, taking his seat. “Now then, let us discuss your situation and application.”

Another wave summoned sheets of paper floating before him and he began reading off of them.

“You had an incident at your middle school involving your signature magic, which can be aptly simplified as having the powers of the winters, and due to your lack of control over your magic outside of wearing enchanted gloves to seal it, no ordinary, or even magic school will accept you into their curriculum.”

Her gloved hands in her lap tensed as she recalled the mentioned incident.

A group of mischievous students had thought snatching her gloves from her was something to find amusement in, their laughter quickly turning into fear as they discovered the “neat freak” was in fact a “witch” once she accidentally fired a blast of ice magic. Had it thankfully not missed the boy waving her possession around by an inch or two, she most certainly would have been forbidden from taking a single step off of the mountain she had been exiled to at home. On both her own terms and her parents’.

After that, no one dared to interact with her, only whispering and making stares when she was present. Not that there was anyone she had or attempted to interact with in the first place, knowing it was better to keep her distance for others’ safety, but it wasn’t the way she wanted to go about it.

“That’s correct,” Eirwyn confirmed, maintaining a composed demeanor.

“So then, what makes you believe you have a chance here?” Crowley questioned.

The papers in front of his face rested on his desk.

“Well... to put it overtly, I heard that you were a kind man, Headmage Crowley,” the girl answered with honesty. “Therefore, I had the belief that you, as a kind-hearted educator, would understand my desire to advance my education despite the danger that I pose to others. And through that understanding, you might take the gamble with me, especially when I trust you have the power to contain my signature magic should an incident occur again.”

The headmage was silent at her answer.

The silence felt so long that she began to think he would deny her application.

Before she could break the silence herself, Crowley exclaimed, “Why, yes, I am indeed kind! You’ve heard well, Miss Isolde!”

Eirwyn nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

“However, while I am aware you’re a highly promising student, having looked at your transcript and even confirming your potential as a magician with the Mirror of Darkness, you are aware that Night Raven College is an all-boys academy, yes?” he asked her. “You’re naturally accepted for meeting the latter, but I need to be certain you know what you’re getting into as an...”—the headmage looked at her up and down—“... outlier.”

She tried to not give him a confused look at him doubting what had been long clear to her. “I’ve been well-aware, Headmage Crowley.”

He smiled from ear to ear. “Wonderful. Finally, as an outlier, as much as it harms my kindness, I will have to restrict you from several things that an ordinary Night Raven student would be allowed to do. These measures are for both your safety and other students’.”

“Yes; I expected so,” the girl nodded.

“Then you’re all set, Miss Isolde!” Crowley declared. “Do you have any questions before I send you on your way?”

“I do,” she began. “Will I be sorted into a dorm?”

“I’m afraid not; it’s part of your restrictions, which include not only your signature magic issue, but any conflicts that may occur that concern you being a female student within an all-boys institution,” he answered. “And as much as it pains me to say this of my dear students, the Dark Mirror tends to recruit... delinquents into our student body.”

“I’m relieved the measures you’re taking with me are extensive, but if I’m not being sorted into a dorm, where will I stay?” Eirwyn went on.

“You will be staying in an old, abandoned dorm called Ramshackle; when the next school year begins, I will be sure to have it fixed up just for you,” the headmage assured.

“Very well; that’s all I wanted to ask.” She rose from her seat, bowing again. “Thank you for your kindness, Headmage Crowley.”

“I am, I am~...” he smiled from ear to ear.

With an exchange of goodbyes, the girl left the office.

As Eirwyn walked down the halls to the Mirror Chamber, she stopped to glance outside one of the windows at the students in the courtyard.

It was natural that she didn’t exactly feel delighted to be attending the all-boys Night Raven College, but she had no choice with every other school declining her application and all. Perhaps she would have felt slightly better to be attending the morally better of the two academies on Sage’s Island, but it was for that very reason that Royal Sword Academy denied her as well.

If only her signature magic wasn’t what it was, she’d have a better, ordinary life.

— ❅ —

From the outside, Ramshackle Dorm’s grounds seemed like something befitting of a haunted house. The trees were without leaves with their branches pointing sharply in directions like a flash of lightning and there was a fog at her feet. The iron fencing was broken in some areas, a rope hanging atop it and a shovel leaned against it near the gate. In the distance, she could see the dorm building with its windows boarded up.

Clearly, Crowley didn’t touch the dorm at all despite his words.

She was right to doubt his kindness with how much he boasted it, was Eirwyn’s first thought before opening the gate with a sigh and carrying her luggage along with her.

Night Raven’s opening ceremony for its new students had just ended and rather than stay to socialize with her male peers and upperclassmen, the girl left to settle herself into her dorm. She had had enough of the attention thanks to the headmage bringing the most of it to her by relaying her restrictions clearly to them.

Inside the dorm building, which wasn’t locked, was a sight worse than the outside. Dust visibly floated in the air, cobwebs served as decoration, furniture and whatnot littered about or hung crookedly, the floorboards appeared in need of scrubbing, and the wallpaper was in clear need of renewal.

Eirwyn walked down the foyer and into the lounge, seeing a figure basking in the moonlight on the striped couch at the window.

It was a student, she surmised from his apparel, which were the ceremonial robes that she was also wearing. She noticed the black horns crowning his head, then his pointed ears—a fae. A powerful aura radiated from him, further providing evidence to who she was assuming him to be from recalling her previous history classes.

Green eyes with slit pupils that seemed to glow looked her way.

“Who goes there?” he spoke.

She was quick to bow politely at his question. “My apologies for my lack of manners; my name is Eirwyn Isolde. I’m a first year student who is going to live in this dorm.”

“You must be the girl that’s been the talk of the school as of late,” the fae observed, sitting up. “So you are going to live here? That’s unfortunate.”

“May I ask why?” Eirwyn asked.

“I come here to be alone,” he answered. “If you’re living here, then I’ll have to find another abandoned place.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you continued to use this dorm for that,” she said. “I won’t intrude on your alone time as long as you don’t intrude on me in my room.”

He smiled amusedly at her words. “You don’t seem very wary of men for a woman. Or perhaps it’s because you recognize me that you would say that contrary to if you didn’t.”

“Malleus Draconia,” the girl spoke his name. “Housewarden of Diasomnia, heir to the throne of Briar Valley, and one of the five greatest mages at current in the land.”

He was noted to be missing from the ceremony while it was ongoing. Something about forgetting to invite him, she recalled what the six other housewardens discussed with Diasomnia’s youthful-appearing vice-housewarden.

The fae seemed to watch her closely, as though expecting something from her.

“I’m being genuine when I say you can continue using this dorm,” Eirwyn affirmed. “Since it’s you, I trust you can take care of yourself if any trouble occurs here.”

Trouble as in, any accidents that may occur with her unique magic.

Malleus’ smile dropped, confoundment flickering in his eyes. “... You’re an intriguing one. But trouble, you say? Are you referring to yourself?”

“I can be... clumsy with my magic,” she told a partial lie.

“Is that so?” he replied, his tone making it unclear whether he noticed it or not.

“Yes; and as much as I wouldn’t mind speaking with you longer, I must get to unpacking my belongings and getting rest,” the girl said, glancing at the time with her pocket watch. “Will I see you again?”

He was momentarily quiet again; for what reason, she wouldn’t have an idea why. “... Perhaps, Child of Man. If you’re planning on retiring for the night, then I’ll give you some peace.”

She bowed as she did when he noticed her presence. “Then, have a good night, Your Highness.”

“‘Malleus,’” the fae corrected her, rising from the sofa. “Here, I am only a student, so ‘Malleus’ is just fine.”

“Allow me to correct myself then,” Eirwyn said. “Have a good night, Malleus.”

“You as well, Child of Man,” he returned her courtesy with a polite smile.

A wind suddenly blew into the room, strong enough for her to flinch. When she opened her eyes, she only saw firefly-like lights swirl in place of Malleus before those disappeared as well.

Eirwyn returned to the hallway, making her ascent to the second floor. She peeked into each room to take her pick, eventually choosing one of her liking after having to sort out a ghost infestation. Said sorting out involved threatening that she would rule out severe punishment if they peeked on her.

It was unfortunate that the opening ceremony was a late event, otherwise she would have thoroughly spent her time cleaning the rooms that were necessary. Going to Crowley in question of why he didn’t keep his word on fixing up the place was deemed futile to her already. Besides, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do in her free time.

She laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. She hoped for an uneventful four years without any troubles. If that couldn’t be granted, then she’d do with a mostly uneventful four years without serious troubles.

That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

— ❅ —

“The Snow Queen.”

That’s what they began calling her after she rejected a public love confession.

If only they knew how ironic it was.

Sitting in a lounge room located on a higher floor in the Ramshackle dormitory, Eirwyn buried her face in her book, unable to focus on reading it as the memory of the afternoon of a few days ago replayed in her mind over and over.

It had been almost two months into her studies at Night Raven College and it was going as typical as a girl attending an all-boys school would go. Almost everywhere, if not absolutely everywhere she went, she’d be ogled by the boys. Some would hit on her and try to earn favors from her while others antagonized her. It was tiring to deal with it all, but she could tell each were abating in their own amounts after a handful of magic duels all in her victory and possessing the top scores across the different subjects in her class. Just a little longer and her position among the students would be cemented, granting her some peace and quiet.

“Is something the matter, Child of Man?” a familiar deep voice asked.

She let out a small and regrettably audible gasp, removing herself from the pages. As she snapped her head to his form sitting across from her, she put on the distant and unemotional facade she wore to keep others away from her at the same time.

“Malleus,” the girl said his name, as though none of it had occurred.

He stared at her with astonishment. “… That was the most emotion I’ve seen you display.”

A blush she could do nothing to forestall bloomed over her naturally pale face, her stoic expression with a subtle crack of embarrassment.

“Is that so?” Eirwyn simply responded.

The fae had continued to use the dorm as his haven to be alone after that first night they met. He didn’t come often and even if he did the opposite, she was fine as long as he was respecting her presence in the dorm as she was respecting him.

She had learned some things about him in and out of those visits

“Is this about the public declaration of love a student made to you in the past few days?” Malleus asked with an amused smile.

“It is,” she answered. “Everyone has begun calling me ‘the Snow Queen’ for it.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Was your rejection that harsh?”

“I was being honest,” the girl replied. “And honesty is unfortunately not always pleasant.”

She recalled the memory of it again.

Eirwyn was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, her eyes moving across the lines of words in her book. She occasionally looked up from her book to a silver-haired student who was peacefully asleep under the tree nearby, of all places to nap. Having noticed him earlier, she didn’t want to disturb him, so she instead decided to keep watch of him after carefully putting a blanket from the infirmary over him while avoiding the animals that were around him.

The shadow of a person cast over the pages of her book, causing her to look up at who it belonged to.

A student stood before her, greeting her with, “Hello there.”

“Good afternoon,” Eirwyn replied.

He bowed, introduced himself, then offered his hand to her with confidence. “I’ve liked you since orientation; will you go out with me?”

It took her a moment to give him a response, her mind having short-circuited from the suddenness of it all. And in that moment, she felt the eyes of every student in the courtyard on her.

The girl closed her book, standing up from the bench, and gave a small bow.

“I’m sorry,” was all she replied.

The boy also took a moment to take in her words, the confidence he had replaced with confusion and embarrassment. “... O-Oh... Not even for just one date?”

She remained in her bowed position. “I can’t go out with someone I just met; I’m sorry.”

Eirwyn wanted to bury her face in her book again, but suppressed this.

"Nor does your facade help convey your intent to lay it out as kindly as possible,” Malleus added.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, despite knowing it was fruitless to do so after he caught her red-handed, or rather red-faced, with emotions.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” the fae said. “Why do you conceal your emotions?”

The question made her fall silent in thought, closing her book in her lap and staring at her gloved hands.

Eirwyn could trust him; she had known for half of the time he had been visiting her. In that time, she learned Malleus was avoided by others outside of his attendants, who feared his power and were intimidated by who he was. It was the very reason why he wasn’t present during the opening ceremony, as no one had extended an invitation to him. No wonder he found a personal interest in her when they first met—her indifference to his identity at the time due to her own background.

Toward him, she felt a strong affinity. It was the first time she had felt such a thing and it was exhilarating to finally find someone who could understand her. She was different in that she asserted her own isolation from others to prevent any harm to each other with her uncontrolled powers, but at their cores, they were the same: two people gifted with incredible magic with a desire to escape the solitude resulting from it.

Yet, despite having learned all that, she still felt hesitant to act on that trust.

“... Can I... trust you?” the girl took the leap of faith, her grayish-cyan eyes lifting to Malleus.

Assurance and confidence glinted in his own green ones. “You have my word.”

“Then I’ll show it to you,” Eirwyn said, her facade melting away.

She took a quiet breath, tugging her right glove from her hand, which felt longer than the time it actually took. Standing from her seat, she walked toward him, stopping in the center of the room.

“Can you come over here for a moment?” she asked.

The fae did as she asked after raising an eyebrow.

“It’s better that I use your glove than my book, so your hand, if you’ll allow me?”

“I’ve said this before, but you’re not very wary of men for a woman, are you, Child of Man?” Malleus remarked as he extended his hand out to her.

Eirwyn gave a small, anxious smile of amusement—the first time smile she would give to him in all their exchanges. “It’s you, so I trust you.”

“And it’s ‘Eirwyn,’ not ‘Child of Man,’“ she told him as she gently held on to his fingers with her ungloved hand, containing her fears as best she could.

Frost grew over where she held, small crystals of ice manifesting.

Malleus looked at this in surprise.

“‘The Snow Queen,’ was it? How ironic.”

She looked up at him, stunned at his reaction being the opposite of what she expected for a moment, before making that anxious smile again.

“If only they all could know.”

#snow queen [eirwyn isolde]#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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yurureri-yurari · 3 years

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I’m listening to War With Heaven and I can imagine dancing to it with Shang-Chi in the kitchen.

#shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #one’s thoughts flow like bubbles down the river stream [thoughts]

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yurureri-yurari · 3 years

Text

crimson deliverance

✬ NSFW ✩ Psycho-Pass AU

Premise: Years of perseverance are finally rewarding them. Not before an unforeseen trial of their making, however.

— ✾ —

When Itori said they would have a new member to the team, no one expected it to be the fugitive ex-inspector last sighted a few years ago. Apparently, the sudden vacation she had taken some time ago was to track her down, managing to find her in Tibet and convincing her to return to the country.

“... Is there anything you have to say to me, Yasushi-san?” were Ayame’s first words to him, once they had been left alone together in the meeting room by their teammates. Before that, she had formally apologized to him for any grievances she caused him in the past years.

There were a lot of things he had to say to her. Most of them being things he already knew the answer to.

What happened to you after the Shambala Float incident?

Have you met with Arima yet?

Are you still going to pretend to be who you’re not anymore?

Instead, all he could manage to say was, “Welcome back, Ayame,” and promptly left after she responded with a nod:

“I’m back.”

The days that followed this were almost as usual, slowly providing him answers to his unspoken questions.

Following the Shambala Float incident, Ayame had continued to wander in the Southeast Asian Union. As mentioned, Itori brought her back from Tibet, after dealing with a mercenary group. Since her return to Japan to the present, she hadn’t paid a visit to Arima, who undoubtedly didn’t know she was back.

As coworkers in the same team, they saw each other at work daily. It was reminiscent of the old days when she was a rookie officer, if excluding that Ayame was more honest with her emotions. There was difficulty interacting with each other—the air between them always seemed to dampen with awkwardness. It was subtle when around others, but when it was only the two of them, anyone could tell that there was clearly something that happened between them that needed a conclusion to.

— ✾ —

“You think they did it?” Itori asked Seishi while they were on break.

“Maybe,” he responded, taking a drink of his canned coffee. “I don’t think they’d be awkward like this though.”

They were watching Ayame and Mamoru doing work together in the office from Itori’s own.

Itori, likewise, drank from her own can. “Hmm. Yeah, it has been, uh... how many years again?”

“Eight,” Seishi reminded her.

“Eight years... They’re definitely a keeper for each other,” she nodded to herself. “If it were me, I would have moved on already.”

“Even if that person was Uta?” he challenged her.

In reply, she briefly shot him a glare before he diverted her attention.

“Hey, he’s leaning in.”

“And then their eyes are going to meet and on noticing how close they are...”

“He pulls away.”

“Awkward silence.” Itori imitated Ayame’s voice. “Thank you for the help.”

Seishi, in turn, did the same, but with Mamoru: “It’s no problem.”

“And finally, the awkward departure.”

The boss relaxed back into her chair as her subordinate sighed, her index finger tapping on the armrest as she was in thought. She looked at the case file on her desk.

There had been reports of immigrant children going missing and as the proactive branch of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, it was their case to solve instead of the Ministry of Welfare’s. Two victims had been recovered, both found dead with various injuries. The suspect was a painter named Sakuragi Haruto, who was name-dropped by an accomplice before going mad and being eliminated. Ominous rumors surrounded Sakuragi, a particular one being that his inspiration for each of his paintings came from models in unethical conditions made by him.

The main objective at hand currently, was to find out where Sakuragi’s studio was. The address listed on his website was but a location used for meetings rather than creating his art pieces. Normally, such a thing would have already been acquired through methods of tracking, but their target was suspiciously evasive. Therefore, a different approach would be taken: the date of a banquet held between the wealthy was drawing close and Sakuragi was on the guest list.

Itori planned to send in two of her subordinates to undercover there and make contact with him. Apparently, Sakuragi had quite the connections when it came to the rich, which was odd in that these connections didn’t seem to be used for gaining influence. When they interviewed one of these connections, they mentioned that Sakuragi provided them a place to “unwind,” but where that was, they would not say. Finding out what this place was, was the goal of the mission.

Itori’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Maybe I should give them some time outside of the office together.”

— ✾ —

Silence filled the car as Mamoru drove to the hotel they were staying at for the night for their mission. Ayame was looking through their intel on a tablet at his side. As he watched the road, he thought of how their assignment happened.

“Me and... Ayame?” Mamoru looked at Itori, perplexed.

Ayame appeared as usual in comparison.

“Is there a problem with that, Mamoru-kun?” their boss questioned. “I thought it would be best for you to be Ayame-chan’s partner for this mission since I heard you were one of her closest relationships back in her MWPSB days.”

“No... there isn’t,” he refuted with uncertainty.

Itori hummed curiously at him before looking at Ayame. “What about you, Ayame-chan?”

“I have no qualms,” she answered flatly.

“Then all is well,” the redhead smiled with content.

Being reminded of that smile was bothering him. Clearly, something was up and he already knew what.

“Can you truly do this?” Ayame’s voice snapped Mamoru out of his thoughts.

“Of course; why do you ask?” he returned a question.

She turned the tablet off. “... There are some...” her hands rested in her lap together, “... unresolved matters between us that could hinder your performance, after all.”

He was nearly caught off-guard by this. It would be apparent they had the same idea of clearing up said matters with this chance of being alone with one another.

“Then should we resolve those before the party?” he asked.

She oddly paused before answering, turning her gaze to the passenger window. “... Maybe another time.”

Mamoru wondered what she paused for when two things hit him. The first was that his choice of words could imply continuing where they had been interrupted that night, which he internally face-palmed himself for. The second was that Ayame was embarrassed in some amount. He wished he could have caught the slightest glimpse of that.

“In conversation, I mean,” he clarified quickly in a fluster.

“If we have the time,” Ayame responded. “If not, then after the party. I’ll trust that you’ll do well in that case.”

“Agreed,” he stated.

Conversation promptly disappeared with that as she let him focus on driving.

Though they hoped their time for resolution would be before the party, it ended up having to be after as they busied themselves with their prep work.

— ✾ —

Ayame came out of the bathroom earlier than he thought she would. “Yasushi-san?” she called. “Can I ask you to help with my zipper?”

He looked up from the tablet, seeing her in a black dress that left everything above her chest and biceps exposed. Her hand was over her chest to keep the top from protruding outward. Mamoru stared at her for a moment before giving a response, realizing he was holding his breath. “Sure.”

She turned around as he walked over to her. He took the zipper of her dress and slowly drew it upwards. This was dangerous, he thought; standing close to her with her skin exposed was causing him to have unwanted thoughts.

When he was done, she turned back to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

They stared at each other for a moment in the almost-suffocating close proximity they were in, as though waiting for the other to say something.

“... You look great,” Mamoru nearly coughed that out.

Ayame nodded. “Itori-san chose it for me.”

He would keep that in mind as more evidence to point toward their boss’ personal motive in this mission.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes; and you?” she returned the question, slipping on one of the ring bands they were provided for their mission on her left ring finger.

He already had his on after a moment of thought while she was getting ready in the washroom. “Yeah,” he answered.

They headed out of their room together for the banquet hall. When arriving at the entrance, they positioned themselves as the other couples did; the lady’s hand around the gentleman’s held-out arm.

For the first few conversations, they were together, making mention of their target Sakuragi Haruto here and there to gather more information. The way that Ayame acted was starkly different from her real persona, reminding Mamoru of their days together as inspector and enforcer. Seeing this difference side-by-side only showed him how much work she had put into attempting to be “normal.”

Eventually, they split up, keeping in contact with each other through their earpieces. Not much side-progress was being made with collecting more information and a chance of approaching Sakuragi, who they had spotted while they were together, didn’t seem to be anytime soon. That is, until...

“Excuse me, Miss?” Mamoru heard their target’s voice in his earpiece as he walked around the hall.

... he approached one of them himself.

“Yes?” Ayame replied.

Mamoru scanned the crowds for her figure.

“I’m Sakuragi Haruto, a painter. I wanted to ask if you were interested in modeling for me.”

“I’m honored, but why me?”

“You’ve caught my interest, is all.”

The pace he walked quickened.

She made a small laugh. “My husband might not be pleased to hear that.”

“I can promise it won’t be anything for him to be worried about; I only paint the true desire of an individual.”

“’True desire...’ Are you implying you learned what my ‘true desire’ is with one look?”

“No, but I have intuition that yours will be worth painting.”

Finally, he spotted Ayame, swiftly entering their conversation at her side. His arm was around her, resting on her bare shoulder.

Making a convincing, but forced, friendly smile, he asked Sakuragi, “Do you have business with my wife?” There was something subtle that could be described as threatening in his smile, which he didn’t seem to notice himself.

“Speak of the devil.” Their target was either unfazed by this or didn’t notice as he held a polite smile on his face. “What a lucky man to have such a lovely wife.”

Ayame made a small bow. “Yes; thank you.” She turned to Mamoru. “Sakuragi-san and I were just discussing his work.”

“Is that so?” he replied.

“He asked me if I could model for him. Would you mind that, dear?” she questioned.

“I would very much,” is what he would have said without any restraints, but instead his words were, “As long as it’s a private work and we’re given a copy of the finished product.”

“I suppose you were right, Sakuragi-san,” she turned her smile back to said person.

“I’m pleased,” Sakuragi expressed. He reached into his inner pocket and handed Ayame his business card. “You can set up an appointment with me at any time...?”

“Washuu Sayuri,” she answered.

The painter looked at Mamoru next, prompting him to follow with, “Washuu Aru.”

“Sayuri-san. Aru-san. It was nice meeting the two of you.” Sakuragi bowed politely. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Once he had disappeared within the crowd, Mamoru almost awkwardly removed his hand from her shoulder. “Sorry.”

She shook her head, her demeanor returning to its usual as though swiftly switching masks. “It’s fine.”

They headed for a quiet spot to discuss their next moves. As he thought about the current state of things, his actions while undercover poked at him while they walked. On the other hand, Ayame was examining Sakuragi’s business card before looking in front of her.

“This isn’t the way I’d think this was going to go down,” he remarked quietly so bystanders wouldn’t hear.

“It’s a dangerous method, but there’s no other choice,” she replied. “It was the least we could accomplish.”

“I don’t like the idea of putting you in danger, but that unfortunately doesn’t change that you’re right,” he begrudgingly said. “We should stay here for a little longer before leaving.”

She nodded in agreement.

The two remained where they were in silence, appearing more as two bystanders now rather than a couple. If they could, they would have left the hall as soon as they finished their mission. The chatter of the people they masked themselves as were unintelligible from their spot, but they had no need to hear any of it anymore.

— ✾ —

After their leave from the banquet, they returned to their hotel room. They were to report back the morning after, the lenient Itori having told them to enjoy the luxury of pretending to be wealthy before they departed for their mission as a bonus. Both discussed who was sleeping where before one was off to wash up first, which ended with one round of rock-paper-scissors. Ayame had won, therefore, she was taking the bed and Mamoru, the sofa.

Mamoru walked out of the bathroom, dressed for bed and fresh out of the shower. The first thing he looked to was Ayame, who was sitting on the end of the bed with the laptop he had used earlier to type up their mission report while it was her turn in the shower. She seemed to be reading the report, checking if he had omitted any details.

He sat down next to her, leaving a gap of space between them. She briefly looked up at him, closing the laptop and setting it on the dresser across from them before returning to her spot.

“Where shall we start?” Ayame opened the conversation.

Mamoru decided to begin from the last time he saw her prior to her addition to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. “What happened to you after Shambala Float? Arima said you got away after you two took care of the leader of those mercenaries.”

“I went back to the guerrilla base.”

“I suppose you left there at some point and traveled around, since Itori found you in Tibet rather than Cambodia.”

She nodded.

“Have you met Arima at all since you came back?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have anything to say to him and... I don’t know if he wants to see me. He didn’t say anything to me after we fought together in Shambala.”

They shared a small silence at that before Mamoru spoke up.

“Well... I’m not Arima, but if Seishi was on the run for almost ten years and came back, I’d hope he’d come to see me no matter how mad I might be at what he did,” he said. “... It’s better to see him than not at all.”

Ayame nodded again, understanding what he meant. “I’ll think it through again sometime.”

Another silence approached them, this time lasting longer than the first. This was undoubtedly because only the source of their awkwardness outside of work was what remained to be spoken of. It was one of those events where they thought it’d be the last time they’d see each other, but their unexpected reunion a few months ago as fellow agents of Itori’s team would say otherwise, turning what was an interrupted tender moment into something to be flustered about.

Ayame was the one to initiate it in the end.

“That night in Shambala... if the base hadn’t been attacked...” she trailed off.

“I would have kissed you,” Mamoru finished her sentence rather blatantly, although with a trace of a blush. “Would you have let me?”

He already knew the answer to his question—or more, he thought it was most likely. While his confidence in this was firm, there was still that small part of him that hoped he was right.

She was quiet, and almost painstakingly so before responding.

“After I killed Nimura and fled the country,” she began, “I thought I would be fine in never seeing anyone again. Everyone appeared in my thoughts as I traveled at least once. Eto-san, Tenshi-san, Kirishima-san, Hirako-san... I thought the ones who I would most think of was Kishou-oniisan and my parents, but... it was you.” For second, her tone sounded childishly annoyed in the slightest. “You were persistent. There almost wasn’t a day I thought of you. My chest sometimes hurt even though I wasn’t injured as well.

“I didn’t understand why for a long time.” Her eyes softened in sorrow. “... I didn’t want to. It would have broken the lie I began living in when I left.”

“And you’ve left that lie behind,” Mamoru said.

Ayame nodded. “That’s why I can say this without restraint.”

She paused for a moment before giving him her words.

“... I like you, Yasushi-san.”

Mamoru was stunned at her confession, perhaps even more so at the sight of the shyness visible on her face.

“... I like you too,” he responded to her.

“And... I missed you,” she added.

His voice softened. “I missed you too.”

They stared at each other for a moment. They didn’t know who was first, but they both leaned into each other, their fingers that were only inches away making contact as they pressed into the bed.

He pulled away after long enough, staring into her similar crimson eyes again when she opened them. They exchanged another moment of silent gazes before eight years worth of restraint by interruptions, hindrances, and themselves accumulated into another kiss that was deeper than the first. Their breaths mingled with one another, growing shorter the longer their tongues intertwined.

Pulling away, they panted as they caught their breaths.

“Are we...?” Ayame asked.

“If you want to,” Mamoru answered. Though, he honestly wasn’t sure how much self-control he would have if she postponed this for another time. Not that he even knows how much he has right now.

She was quiet for a moment, averting her eyes from him. The room was dimly lit, but he could sense that she was flustered. “... I don’t mind, but... I don’t know how to do this.”

“I think I have a decent grasp of it, but... we’ll both figure things out along the way,” he admitted with embarrassed honesty.

“I’m your first?” she inquired, meeting his eyes again.

He gave her a shy response. “... Yeah. Surprised?”

“A little,” Ayame said. The corners of her lips seemed to curl subtly at this new intel.

As though in retaliation for her unintended teasing, he took her by surprise by pushing her down on the bed without too much force and hovered over her.

Mamoru stared into her crimson eyes. “I... don’t know if I can make any promises tonight.”

She nodded and reached for his cheeks with both hands, her fingers brushing his skin. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t regret this later,” he told her, his voice lowering into a murmur as he drew down to her.

Her fingers slid into his damp white hair and she gave a small smile of assurance before their lips met and parted for a third kiss.

It was less clumsier than the previous, but the sensuality from it that stoked the heated emotions in them that had been dormant until now was all the same. Before they could be sent into a state of breathlessness again, Mamoru broke away from Ayame, planting kisses from her jawline to the curvature of her neck. Her breaths were slightly strained from both their kiss and the sensation of his lips brushing her skin.

The stimulation must be foreign to her, he thought, which prompted him to wonder what was going on in her own mind in the moment.

While his mouth nipped and sucked at her neck, his hand ran up her curled leg and positioned at the spot between both. He didn’t take his time—slipping under her undergarment to directly feel her warm slickness.

Thinking about how they were interrupted back then gave him a sense of rush that he did his best to restrain.

Her legs twitched inward at his touch, her breath hitching. He stopped marking her skin temporarily to study her red face for reactions while catching his breath as he experimented where to touch her best before going any further.

“W-What is it?” Ayame questioned, her embarrassment increasing at the notice of his observation.

His self-restraint possibly loosened just then. “It’s nothing.”

This was the most expressive he had ever seen of her, and knowing he was the first to do so brought him a sense of pride.

“Please don’t look—” She was momentarily interrupted with suppressing a voice as he touched a spot. He found it. “—at me.”

“But you’re too cute,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, as he returned to marking his territory on her, continuing where he left off, but retracing his path to behind her ear.

Before she could give a reply, his finger made their entrance in her and another one followed soon enough. They were in and out at a soft pace, particularly teasing a spot from within that would certainly test her limit here and there after finding it in another search. Her hands clenched his shoulders as she seemed to be having an increasingly difficult time keeping hold of her noises. He slowed his motions eventually, allowing her breathing to steady.

Mamoru removed his soaked fingers from her. He stripped her of her pants and underwear. When he began unbuttoning her top, she stopped him, rising up.

“I can do the rest,” Ayame told him, cheeks still tinted. “You… probably don’t know how to undo this part.” Her fingers pointed to her bra.

“Y-Yeah,” he stuttered. “You should.”

While she did so, he took off his own clothing, feeling less heated without them. He briefly left the bed to grab the small packages that were in a pocket of the bag carrying their equipment for the mission, begrudgingly thanking his boss in his mind. Thankfully, he was the one who did the check with their equipment while preparing for their mission earlier.

Returning to her, he found himself in mesmerization at her timid beauty in the dim lighting that only accentuated her figure.

“… You’re looking,” she called him out.

He gave her an amused, small smirk taking her lips once more. “How can I not?”

He guided her back down on the bed, deciding to move on to the next step when he drew away.

“Are you ready?” he asked for consent after his preparation.

Ayame nodded.

After her confirmation, he pressed his member against her folds, lubricating himself with her fluids slowly out of anxiousness. When he entered her, he found himself almost holding his breath, feeling her contract around him as he reached further and further until there was no more depth to cover.

“Sorry; does it hurt?” Mamoru worriedly asked upon noticing how hard she was clenching the bedsheet and the slight scrunch of her face. He caressed her cheek in comfort, moving strands of her hair away from her face.

“A bit,” she managed to say in an almost-strangled voice.

“We can stop if you want.” Even if he wanted to settle this now, it was more important to him that she was comfortable.

Ayame shook her head. “No... I’ll be fine... I... want this, so...”

His eyes briefly widened in surprise at her bold statement before he ducked his burning face into the crook of her neck. “... Really, you...” Once he regained what little composure he had, he told her, “Tell me when you’re good for me to move,” before sealing her lips with his own.

After creating more blemishes on her skin where he hadn’t, he drew down to her breasts, taking one nub into his mouth and easing her tenseness. He could tell her pain was progressively subsiding as he felt her relax around him.

“Y-You can move now...” Ayame gave her approval soon enough.

Mamoru gave a hum of confirmation.

Though he started off slow for her, even having been stagnant for those few minutes earlier with her tensing had worked him up well enough that he was already feeling on edge with his release. Meanwhile, she was at her ends with the constraint of her voice, actively restraining it by pressing her knuckles against her lips. The current pace was only prolonging him torturously and eventually, he lost his grip on himself. Along with the little self-restraint he had left.

He quietly cursed, removing himself from her to change condoms.

“Ayame,” Mamoru called for her when he was done.

She looked up at him, still catching her breath. “?—”

In that moment, he re-entered her without warning. Her voice came out as he pinned the wrist of the hand she was going to clamp over her mouth to the bed at the same time.

“Sorry,” he apologized, half-heartedly. “I wanted to hear you just once.” And naturally, he wanted to hear more now as he kept hold of her wrist.

“Liar…” she took notice of his lie as he began moving for the second cour after also restraining her other hand.

Like before, Mamoru started off slow, but he was less inclined to keep that pace for any longer than a few minutes before gradually picking it up. The sound of Ayame’s voice mixed with her panting fueled him, as did her eagerness to welcome his progressively deep thrusts.

The closer she seemed to draw to her limit, the more her legs closed on him and shortly, she made a choked cry. She tensed up for a few moments, her lower half twitching a few times before relaxing. Her chest rose and fell as she attempted to catch her breath. Though he hadn’t had his own release, he removed himself from her.

“… Sorry...” she managed to say in her panting.

“Eh?” Mamoru blurted out in response.

Ayame covered her burning face with a hand. “I couldn’t… hold back…”

His surprise relaxed into a reassuring smile, having thought she was apologizing for something else. “It’s fine.”

“Are you stopping?” she asked.

“If you want me to,” he answered.

“I don’t mind…” she followed.

“Then…” Mamoru’s face lowered between her legs.

“What are you…?”

“I’m just a little curious is all.”

His lips brushed against her thigh, adding more traces of him to her skin. He hadn’t been counting how much he was leaving behind nor was he thinking about the potential repercussions in the morning—the only thing his thoughts were filled with, was that Ayame had returned to his daily life and that he wouldn’t let her leave again.

Her legs closed on his head as his tongue found her folds. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her expression contorted as she restrained her voice. Though he preferred to hear her in full, her muffled sounds that leaked out at times were still pleasing to his ears.

When she came undone with her back arching, he didn’t stop in his musings, drinking everything she released and teasing out more of it from her until she was breathing in slowly and heavily again.

There was no talking this time as Mamoru took Ayame’s lips with need, the bud of his arousal pressed against her entrance. She made a gasp into his mouth as he pushed into her, her nails dragging across the back of his shoulders. He hooked his arms under her legs to keep them spread, mercilessly starting right off the bat in a rough and fast pace that wouldn’t allow her to think.

“Yasu… shi… san…” she panted.

“That’s wrong… isn’t it?” he asked in-between his own breaths.

It took her a moment to correct herself, as though she was still in unnecessary gripe. “Ma… Mamoru…”

“Until you’re used to it… keep saying it…”

He leaned into where her neck curved, hearing his name in her voice directly in his ear in repeat. His thrusts grew deeper as she spoke, crashing into her deepest regions. And until their knots unravelled, he didn’t stop.

— ✾ —

After their intimate time together, they had taken another shower, albeit together shyly. It was only in the bright light of the bathroom did Mamoru see just how much he marked and bit her. Ayame didn’t seem to notice how odd it was that most of it was above her chest and biceps, which he was thankful for. In comparison, he only had several red lines across his shoulder blades. Both apologized for their thoughtless actions.

The morning after and the ride back to the office was without a hitch. At least, until they had to report to Itori and Mamoru was left alone with their boss.

“Did you like it?” innocently smiled Itori, fiddling with a pen.

“Like what?” Mamoru questioned, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“You know what,” she continued to smile.

“That has nothing to do with the mission.” He rose from his seat and started toward the door. “If that’s all you wanted me for, then I’m leaving.”

“You also used them all.”

His hand froze on the doorknob and he felt blood rush to his face at that.

Seeing he wasn’t going to amuse her more, she pouted. “Boo; you’re not enough fun. Well, tell Ayame-chan I said congratulations.”

Mamoru still didn’t utter a word, exiting Itori’s office as casually as he could.

He let out an exasperated sigh, heading for the balcony for a smoke break. There, he found Ayame. The sight of her overlooking the city was incredibly nostalgic. He remembered how after she became a fugitive, a small part of him would hopelessly think she would still be there on the MWPSB balcony whenever he came up there before he was scouted out for his current position.

Ayame turned to him at the sound of the door closing.

“Are you done with your report to Itori-san?” she asked.

“Yeah; it wasn’t anything important,” he answered.

“I see,” she said.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had something to ask you and thought you’d be here.”

“What is it, Ayame?”

“Why didn’t you forget about me? I’m asking out of curiosity.”

He paused as he was taking out a cigarette from its box, putting it back in and the box in his pocket. “It’s not easy to forget a coworker you work closely with. Especially one who treated you kindly, even if it might have been an act at first. I’ll be honest that I thought about it once or twice. It bothered me too much that someone who was supposedly emotionless as you let me live despite getting in your way during the confrontation with Nimura at the factory though.”

“You would have been better off if you did.” She turned her back on him to look at the ground far below them and the far away people and objects.

Ignoring his hesitance and valuing its proof, Mamoru embraced her from behind.

“No,” he quietly denied. “You came back after all, so it was worth it. Even if it took more years, as long as you did, I’d still think the same.”

He felt her cling onto his sleeve.

“I see,” Ayame said. “Thank you, Mamoru.”

He hummed in confirmation. “Let’s make up for all those years we lost.”

She faced him, tears of happiness in her eyes. “Yes.”

Mamoru kissed the corner of Ayame’s eyes before her lips, the soft gesture as though a vow made to his proposal.

#anghoul [himura ayame]#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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yurureri-yurari · 3 years

Text

sailing: winter snow

Premise: The winter wind, spreading wide the sail, that’s just like you of the past days.

Sources: Image | Song

Glossary:

Shoji: traditional Japanese sliding doors

Sandogasa: a traditional hat worn by travelers

Waraji: straw sandals

Irori: a sunken fireplace

— ❃ —

“… e… ght… ke…”

Lucid stirred awake, seeing a dark-haired figure among blue in his blurred vision. Whoever it was strongly reminded someone he once knew long ago in his stupor, the nostalgic scent of plum blossoms in the air.

Tomoe…?

“Are you alright?” the figure’s voice, feminine-sounding, clearly spoke.

The haze of his surroundings lifted, her face clear. Alongside her long dark hair, most of which had been pulled back by a barrette with a plum blossom branch design, she had expressionless icy blue eyes and ivory skin under a light blue kimono and purple shawl. Were she in snow, she could probably be mistaken for a yuki-onna or in general, for a ghost.

… Like “her.”

“I suppose,” Lucid answered her in a groan as he sat up.

“I’m glad,” she said, though nothing other than her words conveyed that. “Judging from your apparel, you must be an outlander.”

“And from yours, I must be in… Inazuma?” he looked around, finding the forest of glowing blue flowers familiar.

“Yes, but you don’t recall arriving here?” she questioned.

“It’s… complicated,” Lucid responded. He looked to his side to see his trusty sword was also with him, picking it up as he stood. “You might not believe me if I explained.”

“Very well,” she let him off with ease, rising as well. “As long as you have all the awareness you should. Regardless, my time here is limited.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked her.

“I’m supposed to be on house arrest,” she plainly answered.

“Why is that?”

“I betrayed the Shogunate for the Sangonomiya.”

“Sangonomiya.” That name was unfamiliar to Lucid when he retraced his knowledge on Inazuma.

“… Do you know of the nation Khaenri’ah?” he suddenly switched the subject.

“I’ve read about it in a book, but why do you ask?” she returned a question.

“Do you know how long it has been since it’s fall?”

“Five hundred years.”

It had been that long since he left. Though he was surprised at that, he had been more bewildered at the prospect that he’d be in this realm once more.

Seeing his fall to silence, the young woman inquired, “Is this related to your ‘complicated affairs?’”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Furthermore, could you spare me some more of your time to explain the current situation in Inazuma?”

“Please walk with me then,” she started toward the path.

He followed her, crossing the brook through the rock steps.

“Currently, Inazuma is in a state of isolation under the Sakoku Decree. No one is permitted to leave or enter lest they pass the Kanjou Commission of Ritou’s stringent assessment. And even if one is granted the permission to step foot onto Narukami Island, they are most likely to be trapped on Ritou due to the unwarrantable fees required to travel further. As we speak, many outlanders from the other six nations are in such circumstances.

“Following this decree is the Vision Hunt Decree. All who are blessed with a Vision are forced to give up their gift from the gods lest they face severe punishment for their lack of cooperation. The confiscated Visions are embedded into a statue in Inazuma City on Narukami Island, promptly called the Statue of the Thousand-Armed, Hundred-Eyed God.

“Fighting against the Vision Hunt Decree is a small resistance called the Sangonomiya, led by the divine priestess of Watatsumi Island, Sangonomiya Kokomi. As I mentioned previously, I was with the Inazuma Bakufu before betraying them to this resistance.

“Both decrees are enacted by the current Electro Archon, the Raiden Shogun, who wishes to keep the nation in stasis—eternity.”

“Sounds like Inazuma is in quite the chaos,” Lucid commented.

Neither decrees posed an issue to him, if only the Sakoku Decree by a slight amount if he remained in Inazuma for a time. In contrast to his magic-based sister, he was more physical, so there was little need to worry about the Vision Hunt Decree unless he had to add a bit of flair to his moves. And while he would personally like to aid the resistance, that was not what he came back here for.

“I’m thankful for you sparing me more of your precious time, but why are you willingly telling me all this?” he questioned her, pausing in his steps. He had had this in mind for a while now. “Aren’t you afraid I’m a bad person or that I might report you?”

The young woman turned to him, unfazed by his words. “We are far beyond Ritou on Narukami Island. With your lack of recollection in your arrival, I can assume you, an apparent outlander, are without a travel permit. Therefore, if you report me, we would both be punished with yourself on the lower end as I am currently of strategic value to the Shogunate.

“And, I don’t believe you’re a bad person.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve made more than enough openings for you to strike.”

He smiled. “You’ve got me cornered.”

They continued down the path, having long left the forest shrouded in blue.

“So, if I may ask, why did you betray the Shogunate?” Lucid lowered the tension that had risen earlier. “You seem to be well-mannered enough to be the daughter of a noble family, and if I’m right, I would have guessed you to have been loyal to the government.”

“I came to realize my mistakes, some of which were in relation,” she responded. “And… because of something complicated.”

“It can’t be as complicated as to be unbelievable, can it?” he compared it to his method of arrival.

The young woman was silent, which gave Lucid a confirmation to his question.

He half-heartedly smiled at her. “That complicated, huh? Well, it’s not my business since we might not meet again, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

She stopped at a crossroad. The left path seemed to lead into a city while on the right, the countryside.

“This is where we part.” She pointed at the city. “That’s Inazuma City. I suggest going there if you wish to learn more about the nation’s affairs. Be wary of the guards.”

“What’s your name?” Lucid asked her abruptly.

“Umeno Yukine,” she answered.

“Thank you for your time, Umeno-san.” He made a small bow of courtesy. “If we meet again in the future, I’ll be sure to repay your kindness.”

Yukine bowed back. “You’re welcome.”

“… Kiyoshi,” he told her. “My name. Though, if we do meet again, it’s likely I’ll be called something else.”

She nodded. “Then, safe travels, Kiyoshi-san.”

“You too.”

They parted ways, Lucid stopping to gaze at the faraway Inazuma City. It was then that he could settle with the fact that it truly had been five centuries since then with the sight of it before him. He wondered how the other nations differed after such a time. Perhaps even some, if not all of the Archons then were retired at present; he’d know soon enough.

His thoughts drifted back to Yukine and the memories her presence gave rise to as he looked ahead of him. The resemblance between her and “that person” were remarkable. And almost as if to potentially right the mistake he made back then, he told her to call him by that name.

— ❃ —

“Kiyoshi” walked along a village of farmers in the countryside. The air was cold as it should in winter, his breath visible. He stopped before a house far from the others, pausing momentarily to decide if he should give a knock to its door or not.

It’d been a few months since he last and first visited, which was purely by coincidence. At that time, he was simply wandering the land, catching sight of his kouhai and friend working in the fields. Neither had seen each other since the younger one left the mountain they were being trained on to aid political activists against the government over a year ago. In contrast, Kiyoshi had remained with their misanthropic master to finish his training in their sword style. It was only after shortly achieving this that he too left the mountain.

Kiyoshi walked up to the shoji, knocking three times after taking off his sandogasa.

“Please wait a moment,” he heard a female voice from within.

Sliding the shoji open for him was his friend’s wife, Yukishiro Tomoe. Small surprise appeared on her usually expressionless face when she saw it was him.

“Good afternoon, Tomoe-san,” Kiyoshi greeted her.

“Kiyoshi-san… Good afternoon,” she returned the gesture. “Are you here to see my husband?”

“Both of you, actually,” he corrected. “Is he not home though?”

“He’s gone to the market for a while, but he’ll return soon,” Tomoe replied. “If you’d like, you can wait inside.”

“I’ll do that; thank you.”

“Yes; I’ll have tea ready in a moment.”

Kiyoshi stepped into the house after taking his waraji off, feeling the faint warmth of the irori burn away the cold on him that he didn’t mind. Sitting down on one of the mats before it, he noted that the place looked a little more lively with the vegetables that now hung from the ceiling—likely the ones he saw his friend planting back then.

It was good that his friend knew something other than the way of the sword.

Tomoe kneeled on the mat next to him with two cups. Taking the kettle between them, she poured sencha tea into both. She handed the first cup to Kiyoshi, who gave a quiet thank-you, before pouring herself tea.

After letting it warm his palms for a moment, Kiyoshi took a drink of the delicately sweet tea.

“How have the two of you fared?” he started up a conversation.

“We’re doing well,” Tomoe responded after her own intake of tea. “Thankfully, we came here while it was still the growing season.”

“Yes; I’ve noticed your harvest hanging from the ceiling,” he pointed out. He spoke his earlier thought: “It’s good that he knows something other than how to use a sword.”

She nodded. “I think the same.

“What of you, Kiyoshi-san?”

“My life as a rurouni is the same old,” he answered her. “Recently, a lot more people have been directly asking me for favors though. I think I may be unintentionally building a reputation.”

Tomoe drank from her cup again. “That’s not surprising, considering your foreign traits.”

Kiyoshi half-heartedly laughed. “True. Anyone oddly-haired with something else defining their appearance as well who’s done a public stunt would certainly reach various ears. In my case, it’s blue hair and an unusually-designed katana.”

“Yes,” she replied. “And speaking of foreign... may I ask where you’re from, Kiyoshi-san? My husband has told me that you’ve known each other since he began learning the sword and that you’re older by only a few years, so I assume you know your birthplace. I apologize if my assumptions are wrong.”

“No; you’re in the right here,” he assured her. “I can’t exactly say where I originate, but it’s somewhere very far. I came to this land of my own will, having heard of the sword style he and I were once learning.”

“You must have left home at a fairly young age,” she commented.

“My mother passed away from illness before I left home and there isn’t a father in the picture. The only family I have left is an older sister, who has trust in my ability to look after myself,” Kiyoshi said. He turned the subject in her direction after a sip. “What about you, Tomoe-san? Where are you from?”

“I come from a samurai family in Edo,” she answered. “My family’s livelihood isn’t much different from common families however, so the lifestyle I currently live in isn’t unusual. My father has retired and my mother passed away after giving birth to my younger brother.”

He could sense there was something she was hiding, but he let her off. “Does your family know you’re here?”

“... No,” Tomoe replied with honesty. “Nor do they know of my marriage.”

“I see,” was all he said in response. A small smile appeared on his face. “Our positions are a bit similar, you and I. A young man with an older sister and a young woman with a younger brother who both left home.”

She silently nodded in agreement.

There was a small pause between them as Kiyoshi thought about his sister. Tomoe was likely thinking of her brother as well, and in extension, her father.

“Let’s leave the somber tone behind now, shall we?” Kiyoshi shifted the mood. “How is your husband treating you? There weren’t any women on the mountain and surely he only interacted with women working with his employers when it was necessary, so as his senior, I worry that he might be a bit withdrawn.”

Tomoe’s face flushed a rare light shade of red. “Not at all. He has been nothing but kind and attentive to me.”

“Hmm?” His smile took a mischievous turn. “That comes across as a surprise.”

He raised his cup, finishing his tea. “Well, I’m glad. Moreover, I’m truly thankful to you for staying by his side, Tomoe-san.”

“Please, it’s nothing, Kiyoshi-san,” she politely told him.

Kiyoshi only smiled in his gratitude at her. “In this era, at his age, he’d be considered a young adult, especially with his accomplishments, but I don’t think that way. Rather, I see him as a youth still—still the fourteen-year-old who left Mount Atago with his training unfinished to fight in the revolution for the sake of the lower classes. I know for sure without having to have seen him that in these past two years, his work as a hitokiri has worn him down well. To be where he is at his age, it’s a loss of precious time.

“Thankfully, you appeared to him, Tomoe-san. I would have been there for him if you hadn’t, but I’m convinced you have a better effect on him.”

“Kiyoshi-san…” was all Tomoe could say for a moment. She was clenching the skirt of her kimono. “... I agree wholeheartedly with you. Only, I can only help my husband outside of the fighting… I am well aware how capable he is, but…”

“I’ll take care of him on that side,” he assured her. “So, don’t worry. It’ll be my promise to you.”

For the first time, she smiled at him. It was a small smile, but that small smile was more than enough to convey her gratitude to him.

“Thank you, Kiyoshi-san.”

And it would be the last time she would.

#history’s eyes [original characters]#swaying and being swayed [stories]

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