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originalaccountname · 10 months

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Regarding the bsd Cannibalism arc stage play, because seeing all the different takes and opinions and interpretations made me want to put my thoughts down (and because I finally found some more concrete info on what happened in the stage play, yay)

First of all, I'm on the side that says Chuuya leading the PM as it is now and following Mori's style would be bad for him. Mori operates with a level of detachment that would be quite bad, or near impossible for Chuuya.

But that doesn't mean Chuuya can't lead a criminal organization at all, and it doesn't mean that there isn't buildup for it.

The cannibalism arc stage play, to adapt the events to the cast and various other necessities, had to change the script. While at it, they doubled down on Chuuya's character arc. Nothing so far says that Asagiri contributed to this specific scenario (unlike the Dead Apple stage play), but keep in mind that the two previous productions were Fifteen and Storm Bringer. They were in full Chuuya mode. And on top of that, this one is their last bsd production!

Chuuya's arc so far has had themes of leadership woven into it. From his failing to lead the Sheep in Fifteen, to pledging his loyalty to Mori after hearing his approach on leadership afterwards, to taking a leader's position during the cannibalism arc. This theme is accompanied by the evolution of Chuuya's relationships and sense of belonging: he felt like (and was told that) he owed the Sheep for taking him in, the Flags showed him what true, mutual friendship entailed, and through many trials learned to rely on others instead of doing everything by himself, coming to view the PM, that he used to hate as it was under the Old Boss, as his family.

Since in this stage play context we would be experiencing Fifteen, SB and the cannibalism arc back-to-back, it makes sense to try to fit these themes into it. Chuuya takes over as leader in that arc, so lean into it: how does he feel? how does he take it?

So they made him express doubts. Which makes sense! His only experience was so bad it ended in betrayal, and he sees Mori as a role model! Of course he's not gonna be comfortable suddenly taking up his position!

And then, when all is said and done, apparently he downplays his capabilities to "well I'm strong, obviously people would want that in their time of need", which in terms of leadership won't get him far and he knows it from experience. So he points to Dazai still being Mori's first choice (which makes sense, Mori doesn't really do moving on), but after that, Mori produces proof that the Flags, arguably Chuuya's first real friends, trusted in his capabilities from the start, and that he never was doomed as a leader to them. Chuuya gets overwhelmed and excuses himself, keeping his head down and context implying that he is crying.

And from the initial rumours alone, this reminded me of Chuuya getting overwhelmed by the Flags in SB when they researched his past without telling him and gave him the results, when they showed him true camaraderie and support, when he met true friendship for the first time!

[Chuuya] tried to look angry. He opened his mouth and attempted to yell something, but not a single thought came to mind. Everyone stared at Chuuya in puzzlement. He then swiftly turned around and shouted at the entrance: “Now I get it!” His voice was unnecessarily loud. “You thought you could pull a fast one on me, showin’ me this so I’d get all weepy and apologize! That’s what’s goin’ on, isn’t it?!” “Hmm? No, actually, we—” “Well, it ain’t gonna work on me. Got it? That won’t work on me!” Chuuya began storming toward the entrance and kept his head down. “I’m goin’ home! And ya better not follow me! I don’t wanna see any of your damn faces!”

This isn't a reaction to bad news, he is touched! It's him receiving something nice!

The stage play tried, I assume, to offer some closure since this is their last bsd production. Chuuya's arc was about friendship and leadership, so they used both of those on top of the already existing plot. Kinda like how the end of season 3 gave somewhat of a closure with the "to the stray dogs" toast; this journey isn't over, but here's a sneak peek before you have to leave.

To go back to my original point, part of Chuuya's arc is about leadership. His ties to the underworld run deep: he grew up in that environment, he chose to join the mafia, he chose to stay with the mafia, and he has made his way up the ladder with nothing but skills and respect for his boss. Could he be another Mori? Not without consequences I don't think. But could he be something else, something new? Most probably!

Is it sad that Chuuya found his place in the PM? yeah, kinda. Is it any less meaningful? No! This is a series about finding your place and doing the best you can with the cards you're dealt! It's about building the best life you can with and despite your conditions! The PM is where he found support, where he found friendship, where he learned and grew. The PM, or something similar, run by people who care is important, because otherwise we'd go back to the days of the Old Boss, with all the bloodshed and senseless violence.

Leadership is a skill that requires learning and practice, it's hard, and it's scary when you do a bad job. If you've ever had to take the reins of a project, you know it too. There are many ways to succeed in the role, it's a matter of finding the right one for both you and you group.

#oh I could triple the size of this so easily but i try to stay on track a minimum. i could bring in quotes. relationships analysis.#MORI'S SPEECH IN FIFTEEN AND CHUUYA'S REACTION!!! those are important!!!!!!!#i could connect and analyze the themes of fifteen and sb all day. it goes on forever. yes i AM obsessed thank you very much #i want to know where chuuya will go. he'll scream and kick the entire time but i believe in his capacity to grow and adapt #but most importantly to make something HIS that he LIKES #but first to break the status quo and reorganize everything #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd fifteen #bsd stormbringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd stage play #sorta...#apparently i talk sometimes #tumblr freaking ate the first 2 versions but i had a COPY

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youssefguedira · 21 days

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wrote this instead of doing any of my actual tasks <3 tw for brief mention of animal death (by hunting)

Yusuf has been dreading this since the moment they left for Akkala. He had made as many excuses as he could to stay in Goron City for as long as he could, but every one had run out in the end, and he could no longer put off the inevitable.

The first time he had walked this road, his father had accompanied him with a platoon of guards, still cautious, still reeling from the attack that had taken Yusuf's mother. The second time there had been fewer, but still many.

In the years after that, the number of people sent with him had decreased even further until it was only two or three guards, enough to keep him safe. His father stopped accompanying him on these journeys after he turned fourteen and there had been no sign of their worth.

Now, only Nicolò.

He follows, keeping a respectful distance away from Yusuf, but closer than he had walked before they had gone to meet Nile, to ask for her help. He doesn't ever ask to stop, or to slow down, letting Yusuf set the pace. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword and does not speak.

What is there to be said? Nicolò knows what lies at the end of this road, even if he does not know what it will mean for Yusuf.

Yusuf can feel Nicolò's eyes on his back. It is bad enough that the whole kingdom knows he is a failure: he does not need Nicolò to watch him fail and say nothing.

The sun is low, casting the landscape in burnt orange. It would be beautiful were it not so horribly familiar. There is a cabin nearby, and not far from it, the Spring. They will stay in the cabin tonight; they will leave for the Spring in the morning and spend three days there, then return to Goron City and after that, the castle.

Yusuf thinks about returning, about his father's inevitable disappointment, and feels sick.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, sounding uncertain. He is not yet used to calling Yusuf by his name. “We are not far, yes?”

Yusuf had forgotten that Nicolò does not know every cursed inch of this road the way Yusuf does. “No, not far. In a moment you'll see the cabin.”

Nicolò says nothing. Yusuf glances back just long enough to meet his eyes before looking away.

What is Nicolò thinking? Yusuf can never tell.

Yusuf catches sight of the cabin a moment later. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach.

When they get closer, Nicolò takes hold of his elbow, gentle. It startles Yusuf all the same - he hadn't realised Nicolò was that close to him.

“Let me go first,” Nicolò says. “To check. But stay close.”

Yusuf nods, and lingers barely a handspan from Nicolò's back while he surveys first the outside, then the inside, of the cabin. Once he's satisfied, he gestures for Yusuf to enter.

“You should rest,” he says, and he is being so gentle with Yusuf it almost hurts. Perhaps Andromache has told him what this will mean for him: she has accompanied him before.

Yusuf shakes his head, because sleep means dreams, and dreams will be worse. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to find something for dinner,” Nicolò says.

“Let me come with you,” Yusuf says. Anything is better than sitting in this cabin alone with his thoughts.

Nicolò looks at him for a long moment. Perhaps he takes pity on Yusuf, or perhaps he thinks that it will be easier to keep Yusuf safe if he stays with Nicolò. Either way, he nods. “All right.”

----------

Finding something for dinner means that Nicolò leads Yusuf a little way into the woods, far enough that the foliage and the dying sunlight makes it difficult to see, and bids him hide beneath a tree, in a space formed by the roots, while Nicolò crouches beside him with his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth, seamless motion. From his vantage point, Yusuf can see a small clearing with a few fallen trees.

“Do not move,” Nicolò instructs him in a whisper, “and do not make a sound.”

Yusuf rests his head against the tree and watches the leaves move in the breeze. It is quiet enough that all he can hear is their rustling, the sounds of birds and animals calling to each other, the rushing of the stream nearby. After a moment, and with nothing else to watch, Yusuf begins to watch Nicolò.

He has gone as still and as quiet as the trees around them, barely breathing, his shoulders rising and falling only slightly, like he has become a part of the forest. Faron Woods is much further south from here, but Yusuf supposes that this forest must be somewhat similar to where Nicolò grew up. He wonders who taught him to hunt; who taught him to be so comfortable in this place. Why he left it behind to travel to the castle and work for the king.

There are a lot of things Yusuf wonders about him. He cannot tell if Nicolò is aware of Yusuf’s watching; he must be. Still, Yusuf cannot help but watch.

It happens faster than Yusuf can track. Nicolò goes entirely still, and draws his bow swiftly, silently. Yusuf holds his breath and so does the forest.

Nicolò lets the arrow fly.

Yusuf doesn’t see whether it finds its mark, but Nicolò looks for a moment and then stands. “Wait here,” he says to Yusuf, and then heads for the clearing. When he returns he’s carrying something behind his back, the arrow in his other hand. Blood drips onto the grass.

“You can wait inside while I prepare it, if you prefer,” Nicolò says haltingly. Yusuf shakes his head, and so he sits on a log outside while Nicolò skins the rabbit, arms wrapped around his knees and chin drawn up to his chest. Nicolò keeps his back to Yusuf, shielding most of it from view.

Who taught him this? Yusuf wonders. It is a part of Nicolò he has never seen before.

When it is done, he takes it back inside to cook over the fire, and they eat it alongside the bread and cheese they brought from Goron City, across from each other at the cabin’s little table.

“When do you want to leave, tomorrow?” Nicolò asks softly.

“I don’t,” Yusuf says before he can stop himself, and then adds, “I don’t know. Early, probably.” The thought bursts the little bubble he’s been in since they arrived. He doesn’t want to leave, could stay here for the three days they’ve been allocated and return to his father without even having tried and it would change nothing.

“Just after sunrise, then,” Nicolò says. “It is not far, you said?”

Yusuf shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not far.”

----------

The water is freezing.

It has always been freezing. But Yusuf knows well enough that if he stands in it for long enough, it will start to warm. It reaches to around halfway up his thigh; when he was younger, it felt deeper.

The stone in front of him offers nothing. No sign, no indication that anything is listening to him except for the water and Nicolò, who has been standing at the gate of the Spring for however long he has been in here. Has he been listening? Has he heard Yusuf pleading for something, anything, dreading the moment he returns to the castle and his father looks down at his left hand and sees nothing there?

What does Nicolò think of him now? If he did not see a failure before, does he see one now?

His legs may be going numb. They tremble beneath him, struggling to hold his weight. How long has he been standing here?

“Tell me what I am doing wrong,” he begs the stone. His voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. “I know I am not the one you wanted, but I am trying. I am trying. I have given everything. I do not know how much more I have left.”

The stone says nothing.

Nicolò says, “Yusuf.”

Yusuf hears him without listening, falls to his knees in the water and does not even feel the chill.

“Please,” he pleads. “I cannot return – I cannot give anymore.”

There is a splash behind him, and then there is Nicolò, pulling him to his feet, pulling him from the water. Yusuf tries to hold fast - he cannot leave now or it will have been three days in the Spring with nothing to show for it.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says again. His grip is gentle but unrelenting, and he is warm. Yusuf, shivering as he is, can’t help but lean into it. “You are exhausted. You are going to freeze. Come with me.”

“I can’t,” Yusuf says, even as he lets Nicolò take his weight, lets him guide Yusuf out of the Spring. “I can’t.”

There is a small paved area where their camp is set up. Nicolò has kept the fire going, or restarted it, while Yusuf was in there, and he half-carries Yusuf over to it now. Yusuf’s legs buckle under him the moment Nicolò lets him go, and he sinks onto something soft laid over the paving stones. He blinks, and there is a bowl in his hands, warming even if he does not really taste it.

“It was never supposed to be me,” Yusuf says without really meaning to.

From across the fire, Nicolò watches him.

“It was supposed to be my mother,” Yusuf whispers. The only sound between them is the crackling of the fire. Yusuf is so, so tired. He has never said this to anybody else, not even Andromache, but he cannot keep the words from rushing out of him now.

“It came to her when she was nineteen,” he says, “and that’s how they knew it would happen in her lifetime. So she trained, and she mastered it, and we were ready. And then she was killed, and because I was the oldest, it came to me.”

He does not like thinking about this. He has not thought about this in years. They do not speak of it anymore.

Nicolò is still watching him.

“I was asleep when it happened,” Yusuf continues. “I dreamt it as it happened, but I didn’t know until later. The moment she died, I woke up screaming. They told me afterwards that I was– I was glowing, bright enough that nobody could look at me for long or get close enough to see what was happening to me. They just had to wait until I came out of it. It felt like I was burning.” If he closes his eyes, he is there again, twelve years old and terrified.

“That’s how we know it should be me,” he says after a moment. “Who can do it. Because I did, once, but never again, despite all of this.” He waves at the Spring, the water, the stone.

Exhaustion tugs at him. His eyes will not stay open, but he cannot let himself fall asleep, not yet.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he tells Nicolò. “There’s still time.” It cannot be late yet; the sun has gone down, but it is not quite dark. “Don’t let me.”

“You have to rest,” Nicolò says. It is the first thing he has said to Yusuf since he pulled him from the Spring, and Yusuf cannot tell what he is thinking.

“I can’t fall asleep,” Yusuf insists.

“At least let yourself warm up first,” Nicolò says. There is a pile of dry clothes in his hands - where did he get them?

Nicolò convinces him to change and to sit back down, to rest a little while longer. This time he steers Yusuf to sit down on his bedroll instead, and Yusuf’s grip on his arm goes tight.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he says again.

“You cannot go on like this,” Nicolò says. “Sleep, and I will wake you in a few hours’ time.”

Yes, a few hours. That, Yusuf can afford. “Promise me,” Yusuf says, but his eyes are already closing unbidden.

Nicolò says nothing.

----------

When Yusuf wakes, it is still dark outside, and there is a cloak that is not his own draped over him. Nicolò is crouched over the fire only a short distance away. He catches Yusuf’s eye, but doesn’t say a word.

It all comes crashing back at once: the water, the stone, Nicolò. Yusuf sits up.

“You didn’t wake me,” he says.

Nicolò watches him for a long moment. “You needed the rest,” he says finally.

Suddenly his consideration stings. “That wasn’t your decision to make. What time is it?”

Nicolò glances at the sky. “It will be sunrise soon.”

Yusuf’s heart sinks. Sunrise means return, means return to the castle and his father with nothing. He gets up, pushes Nicolò’s cloak aside. “You should have woken me.”

Unexpectedly, Nicolò pushes back. “You would have only made yourself ill. You were barely conscious. I would not have done it if–” “That was not your decision to make,” Yusuf snaps. “I am not a child, Nicolò. I am capable of handling myself. I have lost hours.”

Nicolò does not say anything. Yusuf almost wishes he would keep pushing, but he does not. He simply folds himself back into the same blank expression he always carries, and again, Yusuf cannot read him.

“If the sun will rise soon, there is not much use in staying here for much longer,” Nicolò says eventually, quiet. He doesn’t meet Yusuf’s eyes. Guilt twists his stomach.

Did Nicolò know? Did Andromache warn him? Or was he just worried?

Yusuf nods.

They pack up their camp in silence, side by side. By the time they set off on the road back towards Goron City, the sun has risen, and the early light turns the world around them to gold.

Yusuf walks, and Nicolò follows behind him, as always.

#neon writes #the zelda au which lives only in my head #spring of power baby! if this seems vaguely familiar setup wise its because ive moved the vague plot of the mount lanayru ficlet here #this is a fairly early stage in their relationship booker is the 3rd champion they find (before andy who's the last)#so like. yusuf is warming up to him (hence him actually talking to nicolo) but is still. going through his whole deal #he'll apologise i promise hes just having a rough go of it the springs are a bit of a touchy subject #spring of power btw. nicolo on the other hand has not quite realised the full extent of whats up wrt yusuf and the springs #and his father generally. he doesnt think yusufs a failure tho thats just yusufs brain #anyway ive been replaying age of calamity and Wow botw zelda is the character of all time. for sure. obsessed with her #so i'm channeling that into this. feat. the reveal of what happened with yusufs mom #anyway. enjoy <3 #the old guard #kaysanova #fine main tag. whatever. this is for me and the 2 people who have expressed interest in this au #it haunts me daily

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