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scramble-crossing · 4 hours

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Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice, how did you did that.

#minamimoto @ joshua

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scramble-crossing · 7 hours

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"Everybody makes sacrifices"

(thrinking of josh and neku sticker ideas)

#neku #joshua #awwww :] I LOVE the art style

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scramble-crossing · 10 hours

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2023 minamimoto sketch log

#wauuugh #your minas are peak as always ❤️❤️❤️ I love hiiiim #minamimoto

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scramble-crossing · 10 hours

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the real "me"

#shiki

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scramble-crossing · 11 hours

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Loner Phase

Chapter 1: Sho

Rating: M

Characters: Sho Minamimoto, Koki Kariya

Pairings: Sho Minamimoto & Koki Kariya

Warnings: N/A

Summary: For as long as he can remember, Sho Minamimoto has been able to see things that others cannot. From childhood to the cusp of adulthood, through life, and through death, he exists between spaces and he does so alone. Will a transformation be possible? Can he ever break out of this phase?

Did you hear that? A knock at the door Could that be death? Knocking at my doorstep -Reaper, No Vacation

The first of ah...many, many chapters in my longfic: Loner Phase, a mostly faithful-to-canon retelling of events through the eyes of Shibuya's most infamous Reaper. Despite all he'll one day become, for now he's only a small, lonely child sick with visions of a strange world that only he can perceive...or so he thinks. There's someone else in this city who can see what he sees, someone who just might be willing to take pity on the poor kid.

Read on Ao3

(Preview Under the Cut)

Sho Minamimoto could not remember the first time he saw what he was never supposed to see, reached out to touch a world not meant for the pulse in his fingertips.

But there was one day, in memory retained, where that first click of understanding stirred within him a sense that something was…wrong? No, different. Though it’s all the same to a child. Barely six years old, he sat with his feet dangling above a slim pasting of linoleum tile, wrapped in stark white-and-blue walls breathing chilly air all over him. He was cold. He was always cold those days, in a way that spread over his skin like netting, binding him and sinking in deeply enough to press into the spaces between his insides.

To his left, an overcast sky made the window seem like a pad of empty paper. To his right, a receptionist kept herself busy behind the curve of a moon-shaped desk. Her glasses blew her eyes as wide as a cat’s. She was his only company, after his mother had bent across her desk so that her short-cropped hair masked her mouth and filtered her words out in low mutterings. They were barely sensical by the time they reached him.

“Could you watch him for a moment? I’d like to speak with Dr. Takamoto in private.”

Then a whisper, very, very quiet,

“I don’t want him to hear…anything he doesn’t have to.”

Sho hadn’t thought much of it. He was busy with the water in his lungs. His mother had promised there was no such thing, but when he breathed he never felt satisfied, like all the air was doing was pushing the water up as he did when he climbed into the bathtub. He tried to cough it out. He hacked until wet, raw streaks seared his throat and splattered across the sleeve of his shirt, but nothing brought him relief with the weight of an ocean bearing down on his chest.

He shook his head to clear away the riptide. On the other side of the room, two voices scuffled with each other behind a closed door. He recognized his mother’s, a thin twitter wrapped around the soothing low of the doctor’s, pulling anxiously taunt until it threatened to snap entirely. She’d used the same tone with him when she told him to stay where he was,

“Be good, okay? I won’t be very long.”

And he was. He sat like stagnant water in a creek.

…But what was that at the window?

A sudden colour caught Sho’s eye, a burst of clementine, the strike of bold, pink lightning. It filled the glass like chalky lines of crayon, prickling the sensitive hairs along the back of his neck.

What was that? Somehow, he sensed it was waiting for him If I’m quick, Mom won’t even notice I’m gone…

He eased onto his feet, wincing at the sourness that roiled in his stomach and the dream-like sensation of jelly in his muscles. Stepping carefully, he pressed himself into the shadow of late afternoon as it slid across the opposite wall, hardly daring to breathe as he passed by the doctor’s door. He feared his mother would hear him. She didn’t.

But he heard her.

“I just don’t understand….” Her voice stopped him in his tracks. It was wrung, guttural. He would’ve called it a sob if the thought didn’t terrify him. “How could you find nothing? I swear to you, my son is not making this up.”

“I would never suggest that he is,” the doctor replied. “But there was nothing abnormal in his blood tests, or in the radiograph of his chest. If any serious issue was present we would have found it. I know this may be difficult to believe, Ms. Minamimoto, but your son may simply be sensitive. This could very well be a phase that he grows out of.”

Silence. Then, a rising fierceness Sho had never before heard from her.

“But what if this takes him before he gets the chance to grow at all?”

Standing in that doctor’s office, covered in cold and his mother’s light weepings, he felt a sense of understanding lap expectantly at his heels. It surrounded him, engulfed him, waves crested over his head and swirled with the thoughts in his mind, whispering in his ear words that may as well have been of a different tongue. He grasped for the surface. Tasted seafoam. Touched the open mouth of air…

Sho drowned

The window grew into a giant before him. If he stretched he could push his chin over the ledge. Balancing on his tip-toes, he pressed his nose to the glass and filled his eyes with the colour bursting, spinning, dancing all around him…

“Sho?”

Guiltily, he slumped back down on his heels. His mother was smiling as she watched him from the doorway, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. They looked red. Must’ve been a trick of the light.

“It’s time to go. Say thank-you to Mrs. Chiba.”

Sho didn’t know who Mrs. Chiba was until the lady at the desk waved to him. Shades of peach and gold danced in the sheen of her glasses, and he brightened to think that, tall as she was, she must be able to see whatever lay beyond the window.

“What’s that?” he asked her.

She pursed her lips in a slight frown. “What’s what, dear?”

“The lights outside! Is it like fireworks?” He remembered them from the summer before, his mother petting his head as he wailed with fright at the snapping, crackling firebursts. Once he was finished sobbing furiously enough to wash the snow cone syrup from his cheeks he’d flopped, exhausted, onto the cool, green grass, and somewhere in-between the roman candles and the cherry bombs he realized that they couldn’t hurt him. He liked them after that. Maybe other people liked them so much that they just couldn’t wait, and set a bundle alight even though it was barely March.

Mrs. Chiba’s frown deepened. She glanced from him, to the window, to his mother, who met her with the same look of mild confusion. “I don’t see any fireworks,” she began, her words laden with a slow, careful drawl, the kind that always made his skin crawl with annoyance. As if he was too stupid to put them together! “If they were being set off in the street we would’ve heard. Loud, nasty things they are.”

“But what about the colours?”

“Colours?”

“It’s all pink outside! And orange!”

A sensation close to panic bubbled up in Sho’s stomach. It felt like he’d swallowed gravel. He ran to his mother and grasped her by the hand, forcing strength into his legs as he dragged her towards the window. He thought he felt her give. It was barely a moment, then she steadied herself and tugged on his arm, gentle, but firm enough to tow him into line.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said. Her head was angled to him, but it sounded more like she was talking to Mrs. Chiba. “Remember what we promised? If you’re a good boy at the doctor’s office I’ll get you a treat when we stop by the grocery store on the way home.”

Sho opened his mouth to argue. Nothing came out. He stood between his mother and the window, so close together and yet he was filled with the sense that he could never bring them to meet. That he would never see the whites of her eyes painted with the same colours as his.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he saw nothing, nothing at all.

He followed his mother out of the doctor’s office with his hand in hers, but he held it just a little bit looser.

#twewy #sho minamimoto #koki kariya #don't mind the repost!#just organizing/FINALLY after all this time making a fic tag and trying to keep the format uniform across it #I guess it's also kinda like a reboot of sorts given that its been um...a year #whoops #buuuut now uni's out for the summer and I'm SO pumped to start working on all my fics again!!!#loner phase you bastard. you absolute white whale. your days are NUMBERED (positive)#fable's fics

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scramble-crossing · 17 hours

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