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pjmnns · 5 years

Text

Sue Me ii

You walked out when he broke your heart. Words were left unsaid, thoughts pushed away, unanswered questions left unanswered— remember when he said there was no second chance? When you run into each other at the same place you first met, he’s hoping to change the past. You say: So sue me for being something you couldn’t forget.

Lawyer!AU, ex-lovers!AU + twist // angst, major fluff, crack (?)

Pairing: Reader X Jungkook

Rating: T (swearing)

Warnings: swearing and sum horrible attempt at writing crack part 2, better character development idk i tried guys

Word Count: 7.5k-ish

>> 1 / 2

Hiii guys I’m back!! Here’s part 2 of Sue Me! It’s a little longer and it turned out better than I initially planned so hope you all like it as well,, please leave me comments and feed back!

“He what?!”

“Shhh,, Jesus keep your voice down Mina, I don’t need the whole office knowing,” you quickly whisper as your gaze searches the empty office floor for any intruding listeners. You show her the invitation and as her eyes flit across the paper, she can’t help but grin, stifling a squeal. Her heels tap excitedly against the carpet instead, the muffled taps an outlet for her excitement.

“I can’t believe he offered to go with you, and just after that one run in at the club, ugh y/n I don’t know how to deal with this!” Finally letting out her squeal she gives your arm a squeeze while you gingerly smile in response.

Mina has been the only other soul you’ve told about the reunion and Jungkook’s offer of course. At least there was someone else in your life you were thankful for to tell your thoughts to. Mina was your senior by a year, personal assistant and secretary to Jeon Junghyun, the other dastardly charming and handsome Jeon lawyer and Jungkook’s older brother. Having gone to your college and subsequently landing a job at the law firm as well, she quickly sought you on your first day of work before you could introduce yourself. Mina was the very kind and passionate woman you could only wish to be someday in the near future. Her poise and professionalism, however, only a workplace facade as you quickly got to know her more quirky, spontaneous personality. She quickly took you under her wing, both at the office and literally when you were temporarily homeless after being kicked out of your apartment. Regardless of the brief time the two of you spent with each other, the relationship with Mina peaked when she offered to be roommates, claiming her plants at home “needed more love and another source of oxygen”. Since then you and Mina commute to the office and school everyday, becoming one another’s sister you never knew you needed but always wanted.

Over the course of wine-drunk nights and girls-night-in, Mina knew well of your history with Hoseok. She wasn’t surprised about his desperation of being a fuckboy, acknowledging the social flourish of guys like him in college settings, once they’ve surpassed the awkward stages of high school. With Mina, you poured out your heartbreak consumed by emotions and alcohol, the understood break-up starter pack. Too many times had Mina drop kicked your body pillow drunkenly, claiming it was Hoseok’s cheating ass, or visualized his face on the dart board of your favorite bar. All in all, Mina was your number one supporter of using, no requesting Jungkook’s presence to emphasize your post heartbreak move-on.

“If only Junghyun had enough romance in his body to realize what a smoking hot secretary he has and offer to aid her in some devious revenge slash I’m the bigger person romcom plot,” you say sighing, waggling your eyebrows at her. Sure enough, you really wish Junghyun had the hots for your friend, they both looked ridiculously and illegally good together and you weren’t surprised if there were unintentional feelings masked by both their strict adherence to professionalism. You swear you’ve seen Junghyun linger the eye contact with Mina, or maybe it’s the way he waits for her every morning at the elevator, or even his tone differs with her. You mentally slap yourself for not compiling physical evidence of the potential blossoming of love in the office.

“Hey! My boss isn’t the one you should be worried about having any romance in him, seems like yours might have a little too much huhh??” Nudging her foot against yours, you push her swivel chair as she spins away laughing, your face heating up at her simple comment. There’s nothing romantic about Jungkook going as your date, its merely, no strictly, correcting yourself, an offer to gain a little self-confidence to finally get over your first heart-break. It’s just another opportunity in the road of life you tell yourself, acknowledging the immense kindness your boss is extending towards you. And in no way did he appear to make it a charity case, rather it seemed like he wanted to see you find closure and perhaps wipe that smirk off your ex’s face while you’re at it. Grinning, you roll towards Mina and pull her closer but your conversation is suddenly interrupted by the surge of co-workers arriving back from their lunch break. “We’ll talk tonight y/n,” Mina whispers, sending you a wink as you both turn towards your desk.

“Mina can you come into my office.”

“Y/n, you as well, I need some things.” The Jeon brothers peek out from their offices at opposite ends of the sector, both dressed in handsome attire though somewhat lax in appearance like the rolled up sleeves or unbuttoned collar. The pair of you stand to walk towards their respective offices but not before you had the chance to make kissy faces at Mina, she slapping your ass in turn as you both hope nobody witnessed the exchange. As Mina disappears into Junghyun’s office, you gingerly close the door to Jungkook’s.

“Y/n, I need you to research previous rulings similar to this case and make a list of laws relating to the client’s situation, focus especially on loopholes that the prosecution may pinpoint or any extraneous details that could possibly give us leverage. Also formulate the agreement for the Jung case that we observed earlier, I need that by tomorrow if possible, we will meet with them in person and have it dealt with. Email a copy to their legal team when you’re finished and remind them of the meeting.”

Jungkook looks up after assigning the tasks to you, realizing you haven’t responded due to your diligence in writing notes. As he waited for you to catch up, he quietly observes the way you support your notepad with one hand while your other grips the pen, marking the page in quick flourishes; the way your soft hair spills over your shoulders, a strand you haven’t had the chance to tuck behind your ear as your face scrunched in concentration. Slowly, he begins to acknowledge the tug in his chest, a pull of admiration and something more. He had always been praised for being the youngest lawyer to work at his family’s firm, an aside to being an accomplished one at that. Moreover he’s used to the fawning of others in the workplace that aren’t his actual family, especially the female coworkers who can only stare and sweetly smile at the lawyer, hoping for acknowledgment. In truth, Jungkook had dreaded having an intern who would double as his secretary, he didn’t need the help nor did he need the prospects of a clingy “fangirl”. He had always respected the office as a professional setting and although he would casually smile to the women vying for his attention, he wasn’t fond of it either. Junghyun had convinced Jungkook to accept the proposal after telling him that his work would be more efficient and having an official secretary made his position more, well official. When Jungkook conceded, his brother made sure his own secretary would pick and choose the ideal candidate, hoping to gain insight from someone as good at the job as Mina was.

Meeting you for the first time, Jungkook immediately acknowledged your professionalism and your immense passion that unraveled over the course of time. Since then, Jungkook saw you as his equal, no less than him despite still being a college student, and no less despite your position as an intern. He understood the dynamic of lawyer and intern/secretary, Junghyun and Mina the perfect exemple of equal parts trust, efficiency, and professionalism, that which you and him immediately gained upon the first week of your arrival. He really did enjoy your company, not only because of your work ethic and your proficiency but even then your personality. Though he only got to know one facet at work, he witnessed many more that night at the club which made him all the more curious about you. Jungkook himself wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about accompanying you to your reunion but when he saw your douchebag ex and the greasy smirk permanently etched onto his face, the way you actually opened your heart to him willingly, trusting him when he encouraged you to go on, he felt a little bit of his professional demeanor falter. He sought the desire for his intern to be happy, to be able to move on from the past and seek closure herself, much like what he always strives for in helping his clients. Jungkook wasn’t so twisted that he would consider the offer to you like that of a client, but a part of him— a very large part of him wanted to see you shining in brilliance and happiness, exuding the same amount of confidence you have for your job to be equal to that of your personal life. And if Jungkook was able to be the source of that, by all means adamant he would be.

“Is that all Mr. Jeon?” you inquire, glancing up from your notepad. You realize that Jungkook was already looking at you but you fail to break eye contact because you were the one who had the last word. You tensely smile and manage a gulp, hoping he wouldn’t notice your attempt to shrink from his intense gaze.

“Please call me Jungkook y/n. If we’re gonna pull this off, I can’t have you calling me mister the whole night,” referring to your reunion.

“Of course Jungkook, sorry just a workplace habit.” Your tone wavers and you grip your notepad, but nonetheless forcing yourself to inquire further, “Are you sure you still want to go through with this Jungkook?” completely aware that you had dropped your professionalism in an effort to confirm your thoughts.

Jungkook smiles at your awkwardness and the unease that appears to cross your face, softly chuckling he confirm his offer, adding a quick “no returns or exchanges cause you’re stuck with me now” which causes you to widen in expression, surprised that he too had dropped the professionalism. As you turn to leave his office after you wave your notebook in the air and tell him you intend to get your work done, Jungkook can’t help but feel a little lighter, reminiscing the same way he felt that night when the both of you were just a little intoxicated and a lot more comfortable. xx

As Jungkook moves forward in shaking the client’s hands, you stand as well bowing towards their departure. Sighing, Jungkook takes a seat and leans back, body lax in an attempt of relieving the stress he had accumulated from the week. The reunion was in a week and the two of you still had to bring the topic up to the table. Seeing as the meeting ended the work day and you would be subsequently going home afterwards, you wondered if you could bring it up to Jungkook. Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungkook calls you out. Sipping his drink, he inquires: “Y/n, do you know what you’re wearing yet?” You take a moment to think and shake your head no, mentally adding one more thing to your infinite list of things to stress about. “Hmm, are you doing anything else for today then?” and again you shake your head no, not understanding why he felt the need to ask that nor what his intentions were. As Jungkook rises to stand, he quips his head towards the door, motioning for you to follow him. “Alright, well let’s have a dress rehearsal then, shall we?”

Both of you pile into his car, you not too foreign with him driving the luxurious Maserati across town to attend court rulings and client meetings. Yet as the sun begins to set in the city and Jungkook turns on the radio to soft music, you can feel the work stress of the week dissolving from your body, able to let go of the professionalism of the office to just chilling on a car ride. You guess the same goes for Jungkook as he drives steadily with one hand, the other dragging through his soft hair, touselling the usual neat hairdo as the wind blows through it as well, his elbow resting on the windowsill. You never had the opportunity to fully take in Jungkook’s appearance, you’re usually too busy taking care of his tasks or dedicating yourself fully to the case to spare a moment to admire the man all the other women can’t seem to get enough of. You never understood their’ obsession with your boss, giving you the side eye or whispering about you when you first landed the internship, eventually you learned it was all laced with jealousy. You simply recognized Jungkook’s ability and work ethic that you only had respect for the man you would be working with.

However, in the moment of driving like this you truly realized how handsome he was. His side profile contrasts against the disappearing light of the setting sun, his eyes bright and soft though worn with fatigue, the curve of his nose, your gaze tumbling towards his soft lips that are now pulled at the edges as he hums to the song. He truly is remarkable and you regret not being able to see it sooner, his youth honestly exuding from his appearance, in his smile, as he slowly turns his head to face you. For some reason you can’t look away, and you don’t. You stare at him, hoping your gaze isn’t too intense as you take in all his features. His soft smile only grows wider and you notice two perfect imperfections on his face, the whisper of a scar against his left cheek and the devious mole right underneath his bottom lip. He redirects his attention to the road but not before taking in your own soft features, your eyes that still have not abandoned him.

Inhaling, you take in a deep breath of air filling your lungs, able to grasp at the relieving freedom. As Jungkook drives across a bridge, you lean back against the seat and turn towards him again, hands folded between your face and the leather seats.

“Thank you,” you softly say, hoping the wind doesn’t carry your words away from his ear. Without glancing over at you, Jungkook asks “for what,” feeding you the confidence to keep speaking.

“For believing in me I guess.. for believing in my right to closure. No matter how much of a front I put on, it all comes down the moment I remember what happened. Curse my impeccable memory but I can recall everything like it happened yesterday,” you speak with a small, sad smile. Jungkook finally looks over at you again and this time, your soft eyes are lost in the past, lost in the very real, very valid pain that you barely speak about.

“We were slowly fading, I could feel it. I tried so hard to grasp at whatever was left but I just couldn’t, like you know when you lose a balloon and it just keeps drifting away but no matter how high you jump or how hard you run after it, the ribbon just keeps slipping out of your grasp.” Jungkook affirms by nodding so you continue.

“Day by day, his temper grew shorter and the things he would say to me just hit harder. He would tell me that it was my fault we were falling apart, unable to keep up with his affections, unable to cater to his needs, unable to be what he wanted.”

“He didn’t just reject my attempt but he rejected me overall. The things he once adored about me burned with annoyance until he couldn’t even look at me, my appearance and my personality, it all shattered. I felt disgusted with myself, out of my own skin. Because someone couldn’t love me anymore, I couldn't love myself.”

Jungkook caught the tear that escaped your eyes, as it slowly rolled down your cheek, the sunlight glinted off of it, enticing him to reach a hand towards you and brush the memento of pain off your cheek. You looked over at him, catching his gaze as you forced a sad smile. Jungkook could only return with his own small smile, not equal in pain but equal in understanding and empathy.

He didn’t ask for the rest of the story, recalling that it had ended with you catching him in the act with no one else but your childhood best friend. What a fucking dick Jungkook thought to himself. How could anyone do that to someone like you he seriously wondered, his dangerously impassioned thoughts seriously contemplating the sick humanity of some people.

As he parks the car and climbs out, you look around curiously acknowledging the place he had driven to as one of the classiest boutiques in the city. You could barely afford the cheapest clothes hanger here being a college student and all but you guess window shopping would be nice for the soul and easy on the eyes. Silently thanking god you were still dressed in your work clothes, you could walk around without standing out, even more so walking alongside Jungkook. You quickly catch up to his long strides and he chuckles at your fervor to walk next to him. As he pulls a door open, you enter the store hesitantly and wait for him to come inside as well. Your eyes immediately marvel at the grandeur of the place, the crystal chandelier and the endless displays of designer shoes, and couture clothing, the overall extravagant gold aesthetic the store feeds. Your eyes are lighting up and Jungkook makes a note of the way you take in the little things, the subtle glimmer of the waxed floor and the array of mirrors that reflect the crystal light. Too afraid to touch anything, your hand simply graces above the clothes as a small exhale escapes your mouth as if you were holding your breath. Jungkook admires you from behind, your frame walking along the store as your hand is outstretched, lightly skimming the couture, a smile of humility on your face as your eyes reveal the joy you have for art, a simple sight but nonetheless beautiful in his eyes. As Jungkook moves to approach you, he swore to himself he would never ever forget the look on your face, the way his heart skips a beat at the awestruck look you give him, gratitude flashing across your face thanking him for showing you such beauty.

“So what was his favorite color?” Your thoughts fall back down to reality and you stutter to answer before finally responding with an “Excuse me?”

Jungkook gives you a smirk, something you rarely ever see in the office, as he explains himself. “I was thinking that you should wear his favorite color…because then whenever he thinks about the color, it’s associated with how good you will look that night and he will always regret the fact that now his favorite something was something he lost sight of?” his confidence faltering at the end of his scheme. You couldn’t help but giggle at his cute attempt to make the entire comeback plan worthwhile, appreciating his efforts because you can literally see the gears turning in his mind, you take a step closer and give him the most genuine smile you could possibly show.

“Green. Green was his favorite color.”

“Oh and Jungkook? I like that. A lot,” referring to his idea, saying so before he quickly scans the store for any green dresses. As his eyes land on one near the back of the store, he grabs your hands and yank you towards it, your excitement bursting as you grip his hand tighter.

Jungkook anxiously sits outside on the plush sofa in the changing rooms. He’s silently grateful there weren’t many customers in the store so that he could sit in the changing room waiting area without looking too suspicious. He picks up a magazine to skim through while you try on the dress he had chosen for you.

As the heavy velvet curtain slowly moves aside, Jungkook’s eyes gaze up and peer out over the magazine. Immediately he breaks out into a grin as his hand flies up to rub his neck, the tingling in his ears bothersome against the suddenly loud thumping of his heart.

You looked beautiful in green, more so emerald, but nonetheless the dress hugged all the right curves as it stopped mid thigh, the micro slit teasing for more while the top cascaded down your chest, an appropriate amount of cleavage that left much to one’s imagination. The emerald brought out your dark features, the brilliance in your eyes and the subtle blush now on your cheeks.

You had first saw Jungkook’s wide smile and as you took a couple steps back, he got up and took a couple forward. As he came closer, your heart pounding the sound reverberating through your ears, you search his face as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/n, you look beautiful.”

It was the simplest compliment anyone could’ve said to you but because it came from Jungkook, it meant so much more. You couldn’t help but flourish at his genuine smile, encouraging you to finally accept how beautiful you are, true to his words.

Eye contact was a frequent occurrence this day, and it didn’t lessen any as you stood there staring into his eyes and his into yours, the proximity much closer than you expected.

The both of you snap back to reality when the pretty sales attendant clears her throat, obviously awkward in her place as her eyes shift around. You recall her earlier attempts at flirting with Jungkook, laughing a little to yourself as she clearly underestimated your relationship with him, feeling the embarrassment flood her interactions with Jungkook now especially with your presence. But not that there was any relationship between you and Jungkook anyway..the mere absurdity of the situation amusing you, you conclude.

Jungkook appears to have concluded just as much also as he also lets out a light laugh and turns towards the attendant. “Thank you for your help, we’ll take it.”

As he moves to help you with the zipper, an unexpected but not intruding gesture you realize the quick reality of the situation. Whipping around and mentally hoping the sales associate was no longer there, you whisper to Jungkook, “Wait! What do you mean take it? Jungkook I can’t afford this!” He laughs at your alarm and simply turns you around before undoing your zipper. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Confused and even more alarmed when you finally see the exact numbers indicating the price of the dress, you feel your hands nervously shake as you gingerly place the dress on the hanger, fearful for anything to actually happen to the garment. As you step outside the changing room, Jungkook snatches the dress before you could protest and hands it to the sales attendant, swiping his black card as you stand there in silent anguish, knowing you were unable to argue with him now.

Exiting the store, Jungkook has the goofiest grin plastered on his face as he observes your reaction, ranging from your tireless attempts to walk beside his steady strides to mumbling about paying him back in installments. You don’t make much of an effort to speak while trying to catch up with him but after finally settling in the car, you start rambling on how to pay him back and how he could spend so much money on you and how dare he go around spending his money like that, speaking in terms as his secretary. You’re still talking in equal parts dismay and irritation even as you reach a red light, Jungkook’s eyebrow raising as he’s never witnessed you speak so fervently and just, so much. An idea pops into his mind and he’s grinning from ear to ear, but of course you’re oblivious because you’re still in denial at Jeon fucking Jungkook spending so much money on your ass that you’re thrown into shock beyond oblivion when he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. That better shut her up Jungkook thinks to himself in amusement as he suppresses the smile that’s threatening to escape, concealing it with a cough and bringing his free hand to rest on his philtrum instead.

Your heart obviously can’t take anymore of this and you sit stiffly, making an effort to not make another sound or move. You glance over at Jungkook as he drives, a stupid smirk still on his face and you seriously don’t even know how to begin to comprehend the situation.

He’s still silently observing you in amusement, the way your hands are politely folded in your lap, your head positioned forward but he knows you’re taking glances at him. Jungkook mentally pinches himself for not getting to know you sooner, ultimately deciding that you were definitely someone who has his heart.

As he pulls up to your house after you gave him your address, him quietly prodding your attention to snap you out of whatever state you were currently in, your shoulders immediately release and relieve yourself of the tension you yourself created. You get out of the car and sigh as you turn towards Jungkook getting out of his car as well. He leans against the car from his side, resting his head in his arms on top of the car roof as the night wind softly blows through his hair. Something tugs at your chest and you really don’t want him to leave, upset that for the last leg of the car ride you withdrew yourself over the embarrassment that Jungkook had kissed you.

“Thank you Jungkook. For today, the dress, everything.” You softly smile, hoping to express your genuine gratitude and in some way apologizing for your immature antics after the kiss.

“I’m sorry about the kiss y/n. I didn’t mean to intrude and I don’t have any ulterior intentions either..” Jungkook offers you his most sincere smile, horribly attempting to mask the realization of utter humiliation of his actions, or even worse the consequences of what he did. He was so lost in enjoying your quirks that he failed to realize any misunderstanding of his intentions. Eyes widening, he immediately stammers to offer more of an explanation for his actions, having no actual reason besides the fact that he might be in love, finding any excuse but that.

With the both of you having an equal and fair exchange of self-actualization, embarrassment, and futile attempts to make up for any misunderstanding, you silently listen to his rambling before breaking into a larger grin, soon laughing at both of your antics. Jungkook looks on at you in confusion and so you wonder if he’d like to come in. Shifting the weight of the dress neatly packaged in the designer shopping bag, you ask him, “Um do you want to come in? For a drink or to refresh yourself?” A part of you silently hoping he agrees because you really aren’t ready for the night to end.

And so the night goes on in subtle flirting and obnoxious laughter, you pushing his chest multiple times as he teases at the other people in your office like Mr. Lee, the paralegal, who obviously has the hots for Ms. Min, the single mother lawyer who treats you like her own daughter and whom you have come to love. Competing against Jungkook’s own observations, you point out the prospects of a relationship between Moon-Hee and Dong-Hyuk, the other two lawyers of the legal team.

“No way! They’re always at each other’s throats, no way there’s something between them.”

“Okay but think about how they only tease one another, the way they vie for each other’s attention. Obviously they’re trying to get the other to notice them and they’re both so hopelessly and cluelessly in love that ultimately they resort to bullying one another.”

Jungkook contemplates your observations and slowly expresses his realization with an open-mouthed gasp. “You are such a drama queen, please Jungkook,” uncontrollably giggling at his reactions. He begins to poke at your sides as punishment for calling him out and you really can’t breathe, tapping out on his shoulder.

Jungkook stops before getting serious again, his gaze darkens as he looks at you, “Okay, but what about my brother and Mina though.” He turns sly, his eyebrow quips up as he anticipates your reaction. You nearly jump him, clutching his shoulders and settling on your knees. “OHMYGOD I KNOW RIGHT? YOU CAN SEE IT TOO?” Excitement bubbling in your outburst after finally finding a confidant about the obvious affection between your best friend and the older Jeon. Jungkook just adores your quirk and can’t help but smile. His cheeks are getting sore from all the damn smiling he’s done today but it's worth it because he really wants to show you the genuine happiness you’ve brought out of him.

The two of you ramble on about everything you’ve noticed between Mina and Junghyun, affirming your suspicions but ultimately sighing at their own stubbornness and failing to realize how they truly feel about one another. You’re glad that Mina hadn’t come home yet and you wonder if she was ironically at the office with Junghyun working over time. Eventually Jungkook leaves, and you realize you’re still smiling, if you could smile yourself to sleep that's probably what happened.

Over the course of the next week, you and Jungkook exponentially grow closer than you had over the past year. He calls you into his office more often, even for small things like if his tie was crooked or if his socks matched his pocket square. You attended more meetings with him, followed him around more, brought coffee into his office consistently while he invited you for lunch and dinner almost everyday. You became accustomed to his quirks, not just in the office but on his free time, joining him on more sunset city drives with the windows rolled down, soft music playing, or people watching from the office rooftop after you told him about that place you came to be on top of the world.

The day finally arrives and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit nervous. Like electricity surging through your veins, your fingers could barely hold steady. Slipping into the dress, your hands skim the fabric, unable to control the tick of your fingers. Mina helps you with the zipper, your nervousness apparent, as she moves your hair to spill over your shoulders and down your back, lightly squeezing your arms to turn you around. Facing the mirror once more, you force your gaze to trail from your legs up until you’ve built enough courage to look at your reflection face on. Truly the dress Jungkook chose does wonders for your legs, your dips, your curves, and most of all your confidence. As you meet your own eyes in the mirror, you can’t conceal the nostalgic sense of love for yourself that you had lost for so long. Not that the dress made you finally acknowledge your worth or beauty, but the fact that it was able to draw out those feelings you had buried. You recall Jungkook’s simple compliment and finally, your own worth and beauty were no longer marred by Hoseok’s damaging and toxic love but rather determined by your own resolve. You were in love with yourself and you couldn’t help but want to save a part of that for someone else as well.

You’re putting on the heels you borrowed from Mina when you hear her stifle a sob, her eyes glistening with tears as if she was daring them to fall.

“Don’t fucking do this to me Mina, stop it, I can’t have my girl crying like this,” as you pull her into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry y/n, you’re just so, so beautiful, and a-and brave, and I hope you wipe that fucking smirk off that dickhead’s face oh godawuehh,” she says in between sobs.

Brushing wet hair out of her face, you grab her cheeks and tell her to get her shit together.

“Min you have your date with Junghyun today, did you really forget? Sis, you can’t show up puffy and red like this even though I’m sure he’s whipped as hell for your ass regardless, but still! You have to look exceptionally pretty tonight so no. more. fucking. tears. Understood?” She carefully nods and is grateful that sometimes you wear the bigger pants around in the house. The tone in which you gave her pep talk was also your own desperate attempt to inject yourself with some confidence, to calm your own nerves.

Well screw that because the apartment buzzes and you open the door for Jungkook. He inhales a sharp breath as he takes you in, his eyes fluttering over your features, bold and elegant, defiant and radiating in his eyes. He’s at a lost for words and you help him out by softly saying “You look amazing.”

Your gaze finally settles on how your boss looks, the perfectly tailored suit flaunting his slim but built physique, the lack of bow or tie and instead the bare collar opened by a couple buttons. His hair is neatly styled except for a couple loose strands that fall the wrong way. Unhesitantly you reach up to brush it out of the way, your hand lightly skimming his dark features, his eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips open as he follows wherever your hand moves.

Ahem! Mina coughs, or clearing her throat, whatever, interrupting your moment as you quickly withdraw your hand and step back, trying not to notice the way Jungkook’s ears are furiously red.

“Oh, um these are for you Mina,” handing her a bouquet of roses. He explains that they were a pre-date gift from Junghyun and Jungkook rolls his eyes at his brother’s absolute cheese. Mina laughs before accepting them excitedly, composing herself when she realizes you and Jungkook staring.

Glancing at the imaginary watch on her arm, she rushes the two of you towards the door, making you abandon Jungkook to gather your phone and purse. When you turn back around Mina is whispering something into his ear, his face contemplating her words as his eyes widen and fear creeps into his face. As he moves away from her, clearly shaken, she pulls you into a hug instead, smiling innocently.

“Don’t worry about coming home too soon, enjoy your time my beautiful. Bye I love you.”

Finally settling into his car, your curiosity gets the best of you and you turn to ask him what exactly Mina said. He nervously glances back at your apartment building, chokes a little, and mutters something about his dick being tied into a pretty bow. You had to give credit to Mina’s creative integrity whenever it came to instilling fear in people, but certainly you pitied the boy even more so tonight. As Jungkook drives away, fear still blatantly marked across his face, you feel the same equivalence in fear as you realize the night is only beginning.

The sunlight slowly begins to diminish and Jungkook looks over at your tense figure, hands gripping the hem of your dress, knuckles white. He notices the way you chew your bottom lip, your gaze clearly lost in your own thoughts. Jungkook really does feel something for the girl next to him and reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours. You immediately look over in surprise but the feeling of gratitude washes over you as you hold onto his hand and sink into your seat, grateful for having him by your side and maybe even falling a little into love.

Jungkook pulls up to the Grand Resort Hotel, dropping his keys off with the valet and grabbing your hand once more. Naturally, you intertwine fingers and the feeling feels like home to you. He glances at you again, offering you a mischievous smile.

“You ready to do this?”

Although your heart wants to say no, still afraid of being hurt again, still wary of the throbbing numb and the sinking feeling in your chest, you close your eyes and take a shaky breath in.

“Hell yeah let’s do this,” and with that resolve, you’re smiling right back at Jungkook, matching his quirky smile with your own, ready to get the closure you deserve.

Entering the ballroom, you grip Jungkook’s hand tighter and naturally he pulls you in closer. The room is filled with familiar faces, all the same but just a bit older as you recognize a couple people. Walking past a group of women, you feel their eyes on you as you recall the similar condescending and jealous gazes from high school. You were so intent on proving something to yourself, the resolve stemming from Hoseok that you had forgotten the other ugly parts of high school. The same girls that threw themselves at Hoseok while you guys were dating, the same girls that would speak about you to him, each and every comment laced with the intention to patronize you. Hoseok ultimately falling into their words, believing them and making them a reality. Your confidence falters and you temporarily lose sight of who you’ve become, of who you want to be. Why are you doing this stupid comeback? As if you do have something to prove to these people. What are you even doing y/n?

Jungkook senses your hesitation as you momentarily stop for absolutely no reason and he immediately concludes that it must’ve been someone you saw. His eyes scan your peripheral and they land on the very obvious, demeaning eyes of a group of girls. Jungkook sighs, understanding that whatever happened in the past is out of his control, however he’s intent on making the most of the night for you.

He steps in front of you, blocking your line of sight from whatever it was you were staring at as you were lost in your thoughts, simultaneously snapping you out of it. He places his hands on your arms gingerly and simply says, “Don’t worry about them okay? Just focus on me, me alright? I’m feeling selfish today, sorry y/n but I want your attention to be on me tonight.”

His unexpected method of saving you from your thoughts dissolves any anxiety you had earlier because now you’re only occupied with his face, occupied with his hands touching you.

“Y/n!”

“It’s her! Dude see! I told you!”

You and Jungkook snap out of your moment as you search for the source of your name. You’re immediately flooded with nostalgia and taken back to the happier times in high school. One by one the boys come to surround you, getting their fair share of hugs as you smile at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jimin. Despite their history with Hoseok, they also had a history with you as their friend. You missed hanging out with them, going AWOL after you broke up with Hoseok. They all chastised their friend for being such a dick, taking your side by all means but choosing rather to give you the space you needed. They all loved you in their own way and you wish you could go back in time to relive the shared memories you had with them, even if that meant dating Hoseok.

Seokjin being the oldest was the best brother you always wanted but never got, period. Taehyung and Jimin were your sun and moon, revolving aspects of your day that were never complete unless they ruffled your hair and pinched your cheeks. Namjoon, who was to arrive later Seokjin explained as you immediately pouted, was your one and only advocate every time you needed someone to listen to your troubles, especially when it was about Hoseok. And finally Yoongi who Jimin pointed out was getting a drink over by the pop-up bar was the one you hung out with the most when Hoseok wasn’t around; you loved Yoongi because of his calm and quiet demeanor, something you both shared as well as your distaste in physical contact. You loved doing anything and absolutely nothing in his company, grateful for the times you were just in his company to cry about the break up.

In a blink, Yoongi was over by your side and you reached for a hug, lingering a while longer than the rest because you genuinely missed him. He eventually pushed you away with a grunt and eyed Jungkook suspiciously.

“Are you gonna introduce us or not y/n,” he stated gruffly, you knowing he was just trying to intimidate your date. But of course it worked and Jungkook took a couple steps behind you, trying to play it off. Tugging Jungkook to your side and pushing Yoongi out of the way, to which he scrunched his face in distaste which you ignored with an innocent smile, you introduce him as your date. As the guys move in to shake his hand, Yoongi clapping his back both reassuringly and threateningly, you feel yourself more at ease knowing the guys were just as happy to see you had moved on. Amidst the excited chatter with your date, everyone freezes as they gaze behind you.

“Y/n, I knew I’d see you again.” That voice. The effortlessly enticing and saccharine sound.

Closing your eyes in an attempt to brace yourself you turn around, and there he is.

“Hello Hoseok,” you say quickly forcing a compromising smile.

His eyes quickly glance between you and Jungkook to your intertwined hands, prompting Jungkook to greet him first again.

“Pleasure seeing you here Hoseok,” Jungkook merely nodding rather than extend his hand. You as well as the others witness Jungkook’s actions, a daring move that earns respect from your old friends.

Hoseok twitches in annoyance as his tongue prods at his inner cheek, studying the two of you as if waiting for the opportunity to strike. At the pulsing tension, the other guys surge forward to greet Hoseok instead, momentarily breaking the strain. While they keep Hoseok occupied, you quickly tug on Jungkook’s hand as he follows you towards the bar, averting any further stare-off between them.

The reunion banquet continues with slideshows and fun photo memoirs of the years that your class attended the school. Several embarrassing photos strewn across the hall as Jungkook whipped out his phone to snap several quick pictures for later black-mailing purposes, despite your strenuous efforts to stop him. Both of you maintain a clear distance from Hoseok, avoiding him by all means, and the guys, especially Taehyung and Jimin did a better job of keeping him away. More so, Yoongi kept you and Jungkook company, the two men getting along more than you had hoped and, to some extent you were very happy about their compatibility. After several speeches by Namjoon, former class president of course, and former teachers who you were surprised weren’t retired and living somewhere closer to God’s waiting room, you slip away to the restroom to freshen up.

Squeezing Jungkook’s arm and giving him a quick peck on his cheek while excusing yourself from the table you sat at with the guys and their own dates, you walk towards the women’s room. Before you could push open the door, a hand tightly grips your wrist and pushes you against the wall. Before you could scream out, you realize the hand belonged to Hoseok and instead your fear was replaced with annoyance and exasperation.

As you struggled to free your wrist from his hand, he simply lets go with a smirk played on his face. Yet his eyes hold yours hostage and refraining from losing you push him away. As you begin to walk back, ignoring the urge to wash your hands and spend another moment near him, he stops you with a scoff.

“Y/n, you can’t look like this. No one will ever buy into how you look like this.”

As you turn back around, your expression is completely indifferent and at peace with yourself, all remnants of fear and humiliation dispelled as you finally realize his petty desperation, the pitiful attempt to bring you down like he had done before. Your mind was made and now you had someone you needed to get back to. Looking him square in the eyes, the most self-loving and indulgent smile playing at your lips, you challenge him.

“Oh yeah Hoseok? I’m a lawyer so sue me.”

—

#bts #bts ff #jhope #jimin #jin #jungkook #rm #suga #taehyung #v #bts jungkook #bts oneshot #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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lifein-confusion · 5 years

Text

The Logic of Illogic - Chapter 2

Based of my idea from here

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

AO3 link

Thank you to @ilovemydarkandstormyknight my lovely editor/beta

Chapter Two: Logical Reasons

Tw: mild violence (near the end of the chapter)

As the day went on Logan realized what Patton had said was indeed true, they had almost the same schedule. Logan wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it until now. Except that he wasn’t really the type to keep tabs on his fellow classmates. Through the day Logan started catching himself seeking Patton out in his classes, he never approached him, but he was always the first thing Logan looked for as soon as the class started to fill. Patton seemed to always arrive just before class would start, always looking behind himself and calling out goodbyes to different people. At the end of class he would always get up and start talking to others. Logan deduced that it wouldn't be far off to say that Patton was both the last to arrive and the last to leave a classroom. Logan had decided that he was going to try and talk to Patton at the end of last period, wanting to maybe get a bit more insight on the other boy. But once Logan finally made it to the room he knew was Patton's last class, History with Mrs. Andrew, the second of two classes they did not share. Only to find that Patton was nowhere to be found. It was then that he spotted a familiar face, his cousin, Virgil.

“Virgil, i need to ask you something.” he started as he approached the other. Virgil had been slowly packing up his books looking both as if he had just woken up and as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Oh, hey Logan, what’s up?”

“You know Patton Franklin, right?” once he got a nod from Virgil he continued, “do you know where he is? I did some observations through the day and this, him not being here after class, is unlike his behavior in previous classes.” Logan explained.

Virgil shrugged, “He never sticks around after this class. He always leaves soon as school is over I’ve heard.” He peered at Logan suspiciously. “Why? Patton…isn’t really your type of person. Don’t you only hang out with someone if you have ‘logical reasons’ to?” he asked using air quotes. And it was true of course, everyone knew it, it’s why his only friends saw things the same way as him. Though, Logan did have logical reasons to be looking into Patton.

“I have a reason. I am… he is helping me with some research.” It only took Logan a second to figure out the correct response, he hated to lie but technically this wasn't a lie. Patton was helping him with research, it was just that he is the research. Virgil raised an eyebrow, Patton was nice to him and always seemed to want to chat when he saw him. Virgil was a year younger than both Logan and Patton, only just having turned 17, while they were both almost 18. Patton had once said he wanted to be like a big brother to Virgil, so when the other would hang around him, he would indulge him, not completely hating the attention. That was another of the reasons he looked at Logan suspiciously as he inquired about the kind boy.

“Well, whatever, he doesn’t stick around after school so you’re gonna have to catch him some other time, I guess...” Virgil finished gathering his things, getting up from his desk and moving towards the exit. Logan huffed gently, slightly peeved that it seemed he would be unable to get any new data that day. He would just have to catch Patton tomorrow. He decided not to dwell on it further, he would just have to catch Patton tomorrow. Besides, it was a Tuesday, which meant he needed to attend chess club before going to his part-time job at the library. Then, back home for dinner and homework before bed. He went over his mental checklist for his day as he walked to the club room.

It wasn’t until Logan had gotten back to his house that he thought of Patton again. Who knows when he would have again, had it not been for Logan’s father.

“So Lo, how did school go today? Anything interesting happen?” Oscar asked once Logan entered the kitchen, he was standing in front of the stove stirring something in a pot that Logan couldn’t see. Logan set his backpack down on a stool before he took a seat next to it. Logan thought for a moment, trying to decide the best course of action. He knew his father probably wouldn’t approve of what he wanted to do, but he did also wish to share with his father.

“Actually, yes. I’ve found a new subject I plan on doing some research on.” He decided this was a safe way to phrase it.

“Oh? What is it?”

Oscar turned around and tilted his head at him when Logan didn’t reply right away. “It’s a study of the illogical ways a person will act in different circumstances.” He replied, trying to cover up the delay. Oscar hummed and nodded as he thought about it, turning back to the stove and continuing to cook, adding different spices to the pot.

“That’s pretty interesting, I hope you’ll keep me updated on the data you get,” he said, looking back and winking at Logan, who had to try not to roll his eyes at his father's ridiculous behavior.

“Of course, Father,” he replied dryly, though smiling gently at him,“I am going to go do my homework now.” Logan stood up from the stool and headed to his room, his father making an affirming sound in reply.

About an hour later, Logan was sitting at his desk on his computer, he had been working on his homework, but had found himself unable to focus at the moment, his mind wandering to what he had witnessed earlier that day. Patton just seemed unable to leave his mind, the reasoning why was obvious, Patton was completely illogical in Logan’s eyes, and it had peaked his interest. There had to be a logical reason why Patton acted and reacted the way he does, Logan just needed to figure out those reasoning's and that was that, he would solve this silly puzzle and then he would be finally able to put Patton Franklin behind him. That’s all this was, this nagging feeling inside of him that kept leading him back to the other boy. It was simply an unsolved problem. Logan hated unsolved problems.

The next day had Logan was looking around the lunch room cautiously. He rarely chooses to enter the horrid room, there were far too many unidentifiable smells and the inane cliches that flocked there, and made it a rather unappealing to experience. No, Logan much preferred to spend his lunch time in the library, where he was at least able to get some reading done. But today he had a reason to be in the cafeteria. That reason was Patton Franklin. Because of Logan’s normal schedule for between classes, he would hate to interrupt it, so he had been unable to approach his new found personal research subject. So he had elected to do so during lunch. As his eyes scanned the room it didn’t take him long to spot the bright boy, he always wore a bright light blue polo with a grey cardigan around his shoulders. Logan did not understand this choice at all, if you wish to wear a cardigan then why just wrap it around your shoulders? It completely negated its intended use. Logan shook his head, setting that thought aside as he approached the Patton’s table. He had been surrounded by classmates when Logan spotted him, but by the time he made it over to him, Patton was alone.

“May I sit here?” Logan asked after he cleared his throat to grab Patton’s attention. Patton grinned widely when he looked up from his book, it was a comic book Logan noticed, he also noticed that Patton did not seem to have either a tray of food or a packed lunch with him.

“Logan! Hello, I don’t see you in here often! Of course you can sit with me!” He replied cheerily. “In fact, it would be PATtastic!” he added with a loud laugh, waving a hand at Logan and holding his stomach with his other. Logan had to close his eyes and clench his jaw to hold himself back from commenting on the horrid pun but after a moment, Patton stopped laughing and Logan took a seat. “You know, I think this is the first time you’ve ever spoken to me first! That’s kind of funny, we’ve been in the same classes all of High school, we’re both almost senior’s and we’ve hardly spoken at all. You always seem to be so busy, so I never want to bother you! it’s actually really nice that you came to me!” If Logan had to pick a popular phrase to use to describe the way Patton spoke he would probably say that Patton spoke a mile per minute. The boy didn’t seem to know how to slow down. Luckily, Logan now being properly focused was able to keep up with the others rampant ramblings.

“Yes, well, i’m not really one to approach people often… but I wanted to change things up. I wanted to… get to know you better after our interaction yesterday,” Logan explained his actions cautiously, not wanting to let his true motives out. Most people didn’t take kindly at being seen as some kind of project. Patton hummed in response thinking for a moment, before he looked back at Logan smiling brightly.

“I want to get to know you more too Logan, you can always come talk to me!” he said, before leaning over closer to Logan and stage whispering “I’ve been told I’m very friendly” he said with a wink before pulling back and chuckling settling back into his seat. Logan nodded slowly, not quite sure how to respond. The lunch went smoothly the rest of the time. Logan ate his lunch and Patton chatted while he did, more talking at Logan, then talking with him. Not that Logan minded, it was giving him some interesting information, Patton talked a lot, but he didn’t seem to talk about himself much. He went on about some silly drama between some of their classmates that Logan honestly would have been able to pick out to save his life.

Once the bell rang to signal lunch was over Logan wanted to kick himself. He had been so uncomfortable that he wasn’t able to learn as much as he wanted, so he quickly moved and grabbed Patton before he could leave. Patton looked back at him and furrowed his eyebrows

“Logan?”

“Patton….” he straightened up and let go of Patton now that he had his attention. “I was hoping that maybe we could spend some more time together.” Logan appealed to him, he needed to get close to Patton if he wanted to get the data he ended to finish the puzzle, he needed to be… friends with Patton. It would be fine in Logan’s book to do this, he had his logical reasons to want to have a friendship with Patton. He needed to solve the puzzle that was Patton, and he could only do that if he knew Patton. Logan was startled from his thoughts by a loud laugh from Patton.

“Of course we can spend more time together, silly! I never even got to finish telling you about what James did to Jennifer can’t leave my story unfinished!” Patton replied cheerily, moving a hand and patting the top of Logan’s head. “Come on, we have to get to Biology, I know you would hate to be late!” Logan nodded and they started to walk to class. Logan watched Patton silently with sharp eyes thinking over their lunch once more. As they walked to the class they turned a corner that was fairly empty and found their way was blocked suddenly, Patton walked straight into Travis Grams.

“Well, well if it isn’t our favorite idiot.” Travis said with a smirk, looking back at his friends. “Oh and what’s this? Seems like you got a friend with you this time.” Travis said, noticing Logan standing there. “Logan Sanders? Man, Freaklin got himself a little robot to hang out with!” He joked as his friends surrounded them. Patton shifted slightly so he was more in front of Logan.

“Travis, we’re just going to class, it’s about to start.” a pleading tone slipped into Patton’s voice before he smiled gently at them. “You don’t really want to do this. Hurting others isn’t nice, I know we could get along if we tried,” he tilted his hand and held a hand out to Travis. “Lets just be friends from now on?” Travis looked down at Patton’s hand, slowly moving his own towards it. Patton’s smile started to brighten, but Logan got a bad feeling as he noticed Travis’ expression shifting, but he couldn’t do anything as he froze, watching Travis grab Patton’s wrist tightly and twisted it, along with Patton, so that it was twisted and painfully pressing against Patton’s back.

“AAH!” Patton cried out in pain tears immediately filled his eyes. But Logan was frozen. He wasn’t around violence often, and didn’t know what he should do. Not that it mattered, because only a moment later one of the others had Logan trapped in his arms.

“Come on, Freaklin, you really think we’d want to be friends with you. You’re so fake.” Travis spat, pulling Patton’s arm tighter. “That’s why no one hangs out with you. I mean look, not even the robot is trying to help you.” he slammed Patton into a locker. Patton’s face was scrunched up, his eyes shut tight as hot tears rolled down his face as he whimpered gently. The boys around laughed as they watched. It made something inside Logan twist, how could they be enjoying this, all of this, it was just so senselessly cruel. Logan had to wonder were everyone was. How could they not hear Patton? His hands tightened into fists as he looked around, trying to assess everything. He started formulating a plan inside his head of how to get out of the hold he was in, then get Patton and himself away. His eyes landed on Patton’s before he started his plan, and he found himself once again frozen. Patton, pressed hard against a locker, his arm horribly turned and pressed against him, he was obviously in an incredible amount of pain but he had work a smile on to his face.

“I-I know you d-don’t mean that, y-you’re just unhappy, b-but it’s okay T-travis. I forg-give you,” Patton stuttered out breathlessly. Travis sneered and pulled Patton back from the locker, about to slam him back into it, and that’s when Logan acted. He kicked the one holding him hard in the shin making him loosen his grip enough for Logan to escape. Logan then moved and shoved Travis off of Patton before he grabbed the hand that had not been twisted, he pulled him away and started to run.

Once Logan was satisfied that they either hadn’t been chased or that they were far enough away from the group, he slowed down to a stop before he turned and looked at Patton his adrenaline starting to fade.

“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Logan asked him calmly, now that they were safe. Patton was panting, he had stopped crying, but his face still at stains from where the tear streams were. Once he caught his breath, he looked at Logan and smiled before he threw his arms around Logan’s neck and hugged him.

“Thank you….that was the first time anyone has done something like that for me.” he pulled back, and small panic rose in Logan as he realized that Patton’s eyes were again filled with tears.

“You’re crying again, where are you hurting? Again, do you need to see the nurse?” Logan asked with more urgency, wanting to get an actual answer. Patton chuckled and wiped his eyes

“I’m fine, i’m just relieved,” he continued to chuckle and Logan noticed he was shaking. “Thank you, Logan….” Patton looked into Logan’s eyes with an overwhelmingly sincere expression. Logan had to look away. His chest felt tight, which he quickly wrote off as his lungs still recovering from the suddenly exercise.

“It...was the logical thing to do. We would not have been able to take them on and continuing to let them hurt you...is cruel. I am not a cruel person... contrary to what some people may think.” Logan said, as he straightened his clothes. He looked at his watch and sighed, “we’re are going to be tardy.” Patton moved and laced his arm with Logan’s.

“It’ll be okay, i’ll do the talking, the teachers love me!” he said, pulling Logan in the direction of their next class. Logan looked down at their linked arms, then at the boy next to him. Logan felt that even though he had gotten closer to Patton, he was even farther from understanding the other. The puzzle in his head continued to get bigger.

Taglist (may ask to be put on your taken off)

@randomfanderfriend @justanartsyalien @mmd-ask-italy @ladynightmare12@logicalredflower @buzz-buzz-byotch @vampiregeek2002 @joyful-milkshake-observation @lamp-calm-sanders @the-prince-and-the-emo @virgil-says-no-patton-says-yes @nottodaylogic @imaheckincyborg @fanficptsd@shootingstarpilot @artanddisapointment @anangelridingintheimpala@winglessnymph @spacey-acey99 @roboticpenmanship @princeanxious@mycatshuman @mentallytiredgoat @lotusthatexists-festivestyle@thesassiersilv101 @shadowsfromthesun @eat-moar-veggis@crownswriter123 @the-doctor-demigod-wizard @patton-croc-agenda@residentanchor @sugarglider9603 @fandersfic-logicality @dodos-in-damnation

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ben-j-man · 5 years

Text

Secret War- Chapter 3

Link to chapter 2- http://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/180097372453/secret-war-chapter-1

As before Glaitis sat at her desk. Reclining her long, lithe form back in her leather chair, feet planted on her desk. She looked positively relaxed but her piercing blue-eyed glare said otherwise, and I had to fight to keep myself from wincing under its intensity.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw her and my heart sped. She was, she was-.

Then my jaw set. Taryst was right! Glaitis must know! She must've used it to manipulate me! Why had no one in the company ever mention it?

Glaitis would have ordered them not to, of course. My fear replaced by giddying disgust and I found myself reconsidered my decision on Taryst's proposition.

"Mamzel Glaitis, here he is, as ordered," said Elandria behind me, her smooth, soft voice flowed like silk. But the pistol never relented in sticking in my back.

"I can see that, thank you Elandria, " said Glaitis. "Good work."

I glanced over my shoulder as the pistol finally let off. Glimpsing the young assassin bow slightly- likely she had never noticed Glaitis sarcastic tone and turned to leave.

"Stay Elandria," ordered Glaitis as she sat forward, leant her shoulder on her desk and cupped her smooth jaw in the palm of her hand. "I have a task for you which I will tell once I deal with him."

"As you order," said Elandria.

Then Glaitis turned her glare on me, and I met it although it took all my willpower to keep from flinching.

"Why did you do it?" she asked bluntly and despite myself, I flinched. I had expected her to fly straight into a rage-fuelled lecture, saying things like: 'you have disgraced our company!' Or 'your idiocy could have cost us our reputation!'

I hesitated, no matter how hard I tried Glaitis always outwitted me, it was infuriating. In all my years under her tutelage, I could never predict what she would say or do.

"She asked you a question worm! Hurry and answer!" I flinched at the sudden words erupted behind me, and even Elandria started in surprise.

I clenched my teeth, recognising whom the voice belonged to and turned to see Darrance approaching. He was one of Glaitis most senior employees and a right bastard, the true epitome of arrogance and snide superiority. I knew nothing of where he came from, but I could hazard a guess, and my guess was this: he was some son of some member of the Imperial Hierarchy who had squandered and spoilt Darrance and thus creating this monster. How and why Darrance became an assassin was beyond me, perhaps the governor got sick of his creation and threw him out into the cold.

Despite my dislike for the ponce, I could not deny his skill. Neither Elandria nor I had any idea he was in the room until he chose to reveal himself.

My jaw set as I turned back to Glaitis, this just emphasised how much I had to learn.

"Yes, young Attelus. I did indeed ask you a question," said Glaitis, an evil smirk curling her full lips. "Has a feline stolen your tongue, by chance?"

I could think of a no more fitting cliché at that moment.

"Hey Darrance," I managed through clenched teeth, but I kept my attention fixated on Glaitis, "I see you have returned from your assignment as well, and so I assume it was a success, then?"

"I am not here to waste time tarrying words with a fool like you!" snarled Darrance. "Mamzel Glaitis asked you a question, and you will answer, or so Emperor help me I will-!"

"Darrance," interrupted Glaitis her eyes were attached to my own and her voice soft but the warning in it evident, but I could detect slight amusement in the words and her eyes. What did she find so entertaining? My audacity of taunting Darrance who was three decades my senior and who could potentially beat me in a fight with his eyes closed and one arm tied behind his back? Or perhaps the sheer idiocy. Either way, I was making progress.

The senior assassin said no more.

"Now, child, please would you finally deign to answer my question? Why indeed did you beat up on poor little Vor?"

"I believe it is pronounced, Vax, mamzel," corrected Darrance, timidly.

"Oh yes. Sorry. Indeed it is, why did you beat up poor little Vax?"

"Vex," I corrected gruffly.

"Sorry young one?" she asked.

"Vex! His name is Vex," I said impatiently, so she cared so much about the poor kid that she would forget his name.

No, I corrected. Glaitis' memory was almost photographic. No way in hell she forgot, especially when she was only informed a few short hours ago. She was testing me again.

I glanced sidelong at Elandria; my fellow squad member must have informed Glaitis of my meeting with Taryst and Glaitis. Glaitis must be testing to see if I had betrayed her.

"Hmm, indeed," said Glaitis as she sat back, tapping her perfect nose with an index finger. "I know you, young Attelus. To all but the most educated you seem…chaotic, strange, random. But you really are not; there is some method to your madness. Some surprisingly sane reasoning as to why. Funnily enough, nothing like your father who was always as straight and narrow as anyone can get. That is a trait I can admire, one that would help you if you ever meet the requirement of making you a full-fledged assassin…That is if you live that long of course, but for me, it makes you predictable."

I smiled, now I knew the game, so could play, but decided I could not tell her. If I confirmed her of Taryst's proposition, it would take away any potential leeway I may have in the future, and so, I followed one of her many teachings, "the best way to lie, is, to tell the truth."

After hissing out through clenched teeth and I said, "the little bastard told."

"Told? The little bastard told whom? And of what! Answer straight, young one! I begin to tire of your meandering!" Glaitis snapped making everyone but me flinch in fright.

"I had made an agreement with Vex, a few weeks ago. I paid him to search the systems for more detailed information into Taryst's past. Just in case, but came up with nil for anything of any use. Taryst hides his tracks very, very well."

"And so you were stupid enough to be surprised when this young hacker betrayed you? So you strangled him right in his very office? Right were dozens of witnesses could see you do it?"

"Pretty much," I said, trying hard to keep my cool and to keep any remorse from my voice. "I let my anger overcome me. I was idiotic, stupid and foolish. I make no excuses and am ready to face my punishment, mamzel."

"Punishment young one?" sighed Glaitis, and she could not hide her rising ire in her voice. "Believe me, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos you will face punishment. But for now, you escape it; we have far more important matters to attend to."

"What!" both Darrance and Elandria exclaimed together incredulously, and I could not help but smile. This I had actually seen coming. Both Darrance and Castella just suddenly being here, Glaitis earlier saying that she had a "task" for Elandria. I had gambled on this and had won and I could not help but wonder if Glaitis knew this, and that was why she was so flustered. Knowing the game, indeed.

"Quiet, both of you!" she roared. "I like this no more than you do! We have this task, and we are to act before Taryst can know, and we need all of us to do it!"

I grinned and asked, "and what is 'it' that we have mamzel Glaitis?"

Glaitis eyes narrowed, "information 'it' is, child. Information on the whereabouts of this 'Brutis Bones.' The man that Taryst seems so desperate to hunt down."

Elandria and I sat in silence in the back seat of the old Hesuitor 89. We watched as the hive outside drove by. It was midnight, but the lighting of the hive conquered the darkness in a blazing haze of artificial day, and the hustle and bustle of traffic had not abated.

A hive city like Omnartus never slept. Imperial bureaucracy was everything. It was more important to the survival of mankind than the Magistratum, the Ecclesiarchy, the Adeptus Arbites, the Imperial Guard or even the Adeptus Astartes. Everything rode upon its ever turning cogs. As long as Omnartus lived, millions upon millions of serfs would sit and type upon their cogitators, every second of every day, monitoring countless upon countless lines of information.

The thought made my mind hurt to know that more counted upon them than those who fought for the Imperium, than those who have given their lives for the war. They say that they fight for their Emperor, but in all honesty, it is so this organised chaos can survive. To say it was quite depressing, really was the understatement of the millennia and many more millennia to come.

I could only thank goodness that I wasn't one of them.

Besides the countless bureaucrats coming and going from their daily drudgery. Many were party goers, wishing to temporarily alleviate their boring lives with a foray into the nightlife. We were driving through Omnartus' night district, and at its peak. I wore a high-quality silken suit with white shirt, black blazer and black pants. Castella had told me it was the latest in men's fashion, and yes, I had noticed many in similar attire along the way.

Elandria sat next to me and was stunning. Her black hair was tied back, revealing her beautiful high cheekbones. Somehow, her pouting in anger made her even more appealing. Also, she was wearing make-up. A first for her since I had met her six months ago.

I sighed, placed my elbows on my thighs, intertwining my fingers together and began to relay for the umpteenth time, Glaitis' plan.

After the master assassin's revelation, immediately Castella burst into the room, grinning almost from ear to ear.

"Ah yes indeed information retrieved by yours truly, of course!" said Castella, with an exaggerated bow. "You can all thank me later if you like."

Initially, Castella's entrance took me back, but this was replaced by the sudden revelation, and I turned to Glaitis.

"So I see that you have been doing your own extracurricular investigating while under Taryst's employ, master?" I said.

Glaitis grinned, "why of course, my young apprentice," then she looked to Castella. "And do not take all the credit for yourself. Do not forget that Hayden had as much of a hand in it as you did."

Castella hunched forward with an animated pout, "Pah! Details!" Then she grinned slyly. "And now I'm betting that you are wondering how I knew what you were saying, right?"

"No," said Elandria. "We can all see your earpiece quite clearly."

Castella grimaced another extremely animated expression that made me smile.

"Pah! Details!" she repeated.

"All right enough of your clowning," sighed Glaitis but I could hear the amusement in the master assassin's voice. "Now we move onto business."

"We have located through much investigation the possible location of Brutis Bones," Glaitis said. "His all evidence points toward a bar in the night district of the hive as his base of operations. It is highly popular for the locals; it is named "The Twilight bar."

Castella let out a derivative snort which made me smile all the broader, I could not have agreed any more. "The more I hear that name, the cheesier it sounds," said Castella.

"Yes I know," sighed Glaitis. "But the bar provides an almost perfect cover for the gang leader; it is high class, quite sophisticated and-."

"And so it wouldn't be believed by anyone looking because it would be too obvious" I cut in. "What do they call that? That's right, refuge in audacity."

"Indeed, young one," said Glaitis. "Taryst being the utter genius he is, had left that area for last in his investigation as you and Elandria may know."

"Yes," said my squad mate and to my surprise, I could detect an undercurrent of annoyance in the young woman's voice. Elandria did not like being left out of the loop. In all honesty, neither did, but I could hide it, and by then, I was used to it.

Glaitis could also tell Elandria's dislike, emphasised by the master assassin's patronising glare.

Glaitis moved on, "thanks to Hayden Tresch's hacking ability. We were able to get a full layout of the plans for the bar." Glaitis pulled out a control wand, and with a flick of her wrist the lights died, and a giant, sophisticated hologram sprang out from the middle of her desk.

"It is located on the far North West end of the night district's main street, the Dawn of Ages Boulevard. As you can see, there are three entrances, the main being on the south-east from the Dawn of Ages Boulevard. The other two, one is placed on the northern side and the other on the south all are guarded constantly, and all are placed on surveillance cameras. The security is very tight indeed as befitting such a leader."

I shrugged, "but I'm guessing no tighter than any other club in the district, so they don't draw suspicion."

"Indeed, and also it is no match for us at all," said Glaitis. "Here is my plan, Elandria both you and Attelus, both of you dressed satisfactory for the occasion, will enter into the bar via the front entrance, posing as legitimate patrons. As a dating couple, of course."

Beside me, Elandria stiffened in obvious distaste. Making me more upset than I cared to admit.

"But, mistress," I said. "If you send in Elandria and myself…with our activities, together with over the last six months the odds of them knowing our faces would be higher than if you sent in Castella or anyone else."

Glaistis smiled, "of course and that is what I gamble upon that viewing your entrance into the bar will spike up the suspicions of the ones running it. They will not turn you and Elandria away for fear of spiking your own suspicions. I believe that you two will be very, very closely monitored indeed."

My jaw set, "so we are the distraction, then?"

"Never miss a beat then, do we, child?" she said. "But that beat was about as subtle as an explosion. Yes, you and Elandria are the distraction once inside I want you both to-."

"Start a bar brawl?"

Glaitis frowned, "yes, child. Start a bar brawl, and we need a big one, indeed. One that will distract the vast majority of the moody hammers acting as bouncers so both-."

"Darrance and Castella can slip in unnoticed and plant bugs in the bar? But why not just have us plant them? It would be easier."

"Actually, child. I was going to say that Darrance and Tresch do it. While what you say is true, what we are not sure of is the surveillance in the bar. It is well hidden. But what we do know is two elite assassins in syn-skin body gloves will move unseen, we just need you to distract the hammers for long enough to do it. Also, we don't want them just placed in the bar itself but in the back rooms, too. Otherwise, it would be just pointless, wouldn't it?"

I shrugged, it made sense. But why was she doing this? I knew Glaitis, and she would only move if this information were one hundred percent confirmed. She never did anything halfway. I suspected she wanted to plant these bugs so she could find the reason why Taryst was so desperate to find Brutis Bones, but there had to be more.

I set my jaw.

"So, there is the plan," said Glaitis. "Whether you take it or leave it is immaterial we are doing it. I have a transport readied for you both in the parks and suitable clothing. After, of course, you take a shower, Attelus! You smell like you haven't washed in days! Dismissed. And Castella, make sure that you go over the details with the lovely couple for me."

"As ordered, mamzel," said Castella with a bow and I frowned in annoyance as we all turned for the door.

"Oh and, young one," called Glaitis at my back, making me freeze. "Do not for a second believe that you are off the proverbial hook. You will face your consequences one way or another, and you will keep that in mind, understood?"

I swallowed noisily, "y-yes mamzel."

"Oh, and young one, stop interrupting me in mid sent sentence you are not doing yourself any favours."

"Y-yes, mamzel."

"Good, now leave before I make you leave."

I did as ordered and quite hurriedly indeed.

"We are here," growled a voice knocking me from my reverie. Darrance glared over the driver's seat at me as the car was coming to a stop. The senior assassin's face foul.

I grinned. "Yes, thank you, good driver," I said in my best up hive accent. "We must really be getting to the party chant us, dear?"

It was Elandria's turn to glare at me, "what are you doing?"

"Why getting into character, my dear."

"Well if you call me "dear" one more time you will find yourself sorely lacking a head."

I grinned even wider, "well, good luck with that endeavour, my dear. Since you lack the proper appliances to pull through with said threat."

Elandria started in remembrance. Both of us were unarmed so that we could go through the bar's detectors. Then she smiled, "I have not tried it with my bare hands yet, 'dear.' But then there is always a first time for everything. Isn't there?"

"Shut up you two and get moving!" snarled Darrance, "I have yet to get into position, and I will not have this mission ruined by your unresolved sexual tension!"

I flinched in embarrassment and moved quickly, opening my door of the old limousine, swiftly got out, walked around and like a gentleman of old opened the door for my "date." All the while I fought the urge to cover my eyes from the blaring lights.

Elandria clumsily climbed out, she was still unused to wearing Stilettos, and I frowned as I wondered if it was wise sending her instead of Castella. I offered her my hand which she reluctantly took.

Gently pulling her out, I placed my arm over her shoulders, pulling her close and steadying her walk as we moved down the street. Almost immediately, the old Hesuitor violently drove off leaving a cloud of exhaust in its wake.

"W-What are you doing?" she said, though only slightly struggling.

"Making sure that you don't fall on your face my dear," I answered and then cried out theatrically and so loud that many a passing pedestrian look my way in bemusement: "Oh Emperor forbid! That my lovely date would slip and break her nose on our very first engagement, I would never hear the end of it from father! Oh, Emperor forbid!"

"Lovely?" she said wide-eyed, and we started to approach the bar.

When I saw the long line of potential patrons waiting for entrance into the Twilight bar, I barely stifled a curse. I hated waiting in lines it was my anathema. Well, one on a long list with many more.

I sighed. Then Elandria, my arm still over her shoulders, glared at me.

"What's wrong now?" she growled.

"Nothing, nothing," I said lightly. "I am just so entranced by your-."

"Shut it!" she snarled, "Your 'character' is even more annoying than you are."

I smiled patiently. Elandria's constant grumpiness was beginning to get on my nerves, "may I ask you a question, my dear?"

"No," she pouted, "but I know you will anyway."

I grinned, "now that you have said that, I will. Have you ever done undercover operations like this? You have always sat out our earlier missions as reserved reinforcement."

"No."

I frowned, it was evident from the start that Elandria's skill set seemed more militaristic than the other assassins of our organisation. Seemingly the cult that trained her had neglected to teach her the complexities of civilian infiltration in favour of the battlefield and stealth specialisation. Hence why she could barely place one foot in front of the other while wearing high heels or act like a high-class hive citizen for more than three seconds.

I sighed, "I guess that answers a few questions, yes. But could you, at least try, to be in character when we line up?"

"But I thought we were to make them suspect us as being undercover?"

My jaw set. Why was she so insistent on antagonising me so? Actually, I suspected she wasn't doing it on purpose at all.

"That is true, but it does not mean we can't be professional. We are gambling on them knowing our faces, and even if they don't, the fight we start will hopefully suffice for the distraction even without the extra attention. Perhaps acting convincingly may cement any suspicion of our position in Taryst's private investigatory force."

"Whatever," was her reply, causing my anger to rise but before I could reply we arrived at the end of the line. It was depressingly long. I did a quick headcount, of the crowd of young, ostentatiously dressed pretty people and found that approximately sixty locals in total waited for the huge hammer acting as the bouncer to let them in.

Inside the bar, the music blared and the boom of the bass line tingled my teeth.

Despite it being called a 'bar' the Twilight Bar resembled a club first and foremost. Prior booking was a must to gain access and thanks to Hayden Tresch's hacking expertise we were on the list. Under aliases, of course.

That made me wonder, how long had mamzel Glaitis actually known about this club and its connection to Brutis Bones? Just judging at how long this line is alone that a booking needed to be at least a week prior to guarantee entrance. Perhaps Tresch had not hacked into the system at all? Perhaps they had made the booking legitimately? But if that was the case why act now?

I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses. But the most obvious was, once again, that Glaitis was testing me, and if so, whether it was a test of my abilities, or if I had betrayed her was another question, entirely.

Or perhaps, I just needed to get it through my thick head that the universe didn't revolve around me and my idiocy.

"Attelus Kaltos, stop it," Elandria's voice abruptly ended my revere. "Stop leaning on me."

With a start, I let off my weight, feeling my face flush in embarrassment. "S-sorry about that."

"Lost in your little world once more were we, dear?" she said with a contemptuous sneer that seemed to exclaim my idiocy and hypocrisy at once.

The corner of my mouth twitched. I needed to learn to keep myself from being lost in my thoughts. I shrugged.

"Oh I do apologise, my dear, oh how my idiocy knows no bounds, please forgive me! Please do!"

Elandria gritted her teeth then turned away. I grinned, that made her shut up, and again, I took another comprehensive look across the crowd.

I flinched midway through as I saw through the crowd two young, gorgeous women eyeing me with enthusiastically flirtatious gazes.

I felt my face turn bright red. Then tore my attention away, up toward the three surveillance cameras watching us from above. Castella had informed me of their positions during her in-depth briefing earlier, but I wanted to see for myself. Just in case.

When I looked back, the two women were still looking at me luridly. I tried to avoid their eyes by looking down at my wrist Chron. In all my research into Omnartus' culture, I could not recall reading about the local women being so obvious about their attraction this despite the guy of interest having another woman already under his arm. Perhaps they had a sixth sense? They could they just tell by instinct that Elandria and I were not a real couple?

I looked sidelong at Elandria, who still had her attention away. My jaw set, or perhaps she was just making it so frigging obvious it wasn't funny.

I sighed and reached into my pocket for my lhos. It had been a while since my last smoke, and the cravings were getting to me.

I lit the lho clenched in my teeth, using the activity to try averting my attention from the two women, who were still looking even now. The line then finally made a step forward and I began to tap the tip of my shoe on the rockcrete sidewalk.

I am not a partier; I am an assassin who kills people for a living. And being the dangerous job it is and that I would quite like to live past my twenties, I spend every waking hour for training. Making sure I have the necessary skills to live to see the next day.

The line was speeding up. Already, we had made another step. I glanced over my shoulder and to no surprise saw that five more had lined up behind us and as I did this I accidentally caught the eyes of another young woman.

I flinched, turned and sighed, hunching animatedly then Elandria looked to me.

"You're strange," she said.

I looked at her sidelong, exhaled smoke and slipped my ceramic Lho casing back into my pocket. I was used to Elandria's extreme lack of subtlety, but it took a hell of a long time to acclimatise to.

"Yeah, well. Tell me something I don't know."

"There are many things I do not understand, like how after so long training in martial arts and weaponry that your posture could still be so terrible."

I immediately straightened, Elandria had a point. If I were to act as an upper-class hive citizen, I had to stand like an upper-class hive citizen, who were stereotypically straight-backed and refined. Both traits I sorely lacked. Perhaps that was the real reason those two young women were looking at me so intently, they must find my bad posture entertaining, and at that I inwardly cursed. That had to be it, no other reason could explain it.

"There, is that better?" I growled.

"Now you are just overdoing it."

I sighed and went back to being hunched again.

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missmyloko · 6 years

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What’s In a Dance? Part 5

This is more of an ozashiki “trick” than dance, but because it does involve a song and dance kata, it is technically a dance (and a very fun one too) ^^

Kin No Shachihoko (金の鯱) - The Golden Shachihoko

Image courtesy of Kei Meigiren. Now, it may seem odd to be using an image of a Nagoya maiko, but after reading the lyrics the meaning will become clearer ^^

Lyrics

Mitaka? 見たか? Did you see? Kiitaka? 聞いたか? Did you hear? Nagoya no Shiro wa, 名古屋の城は, Of Nagoya Castle, Gojū yagura no zetchō ni, 五重やぐらの絶頂に, On the peak of the five point tower, Kin no Shachihoko, 金の鯱, A golden Shachihoko, Shachihoko, 鯱, And another Shachihoko, Amazarashi. 雨ざらし. Are out in the rain.

The Breakdown

As can be surmised, this song is about these absolutely massive statues (almost 3m tall) that sit atop the highest part of Nagoya Castle in Nagoya. The Shachihoko are golden fish with the head of a tiger that are said to bring good luck and protection to Nagoya Castle which, to be fair, they have as they’ve been there since 1612. Translating the fourth line about the peaks was a bit difficult as you need to see what Nagoya Castle looks like (here’s an example) in order to fully understand it (or just have some nice back story, like here!). Nagoya Castle has five storeys, and for each storey, starting from the second, there is roofing on the outside of the castle. It forms an almost pyramid-like shape with each storey becoming smaller and smaller the higher up you go. On the fifth and final storey sits two Shachihoko, one on each end facing each other; this is why the song mentions two of them. The last line is sung once the dancer is in the iconic Shachihoko pose as a way to make sure that she holds the pose long enough for it to be said.

Since Shachihoko is a Japanese word with no English equivalent I left it in the translation as-is. Even though this song is about statues in Nagoya it is still performed at ozashiki in the Kyoto gokagai as there are various other castles in Japan that have the Shachihoko on them. It’s also a show of how flexible maiko and geiko can be as the signature Shachihoko pose takes a great deal of upper arm strength to pull off. Within Kyoto it is said that the Tama (多麻) okiya of Gion Kobu takes pride in the fact that all of their maiko and geiko can perform Kin No Shachihoko, regardless of their seniority ^^

Each Kagai’s Version

This is a bit of an oddity as this dance isn’t a “strict” part of each dance school’s repertoire, but it’s so popular at ozashiki that it’s performed regardless of these constraints. The song and the dance are the same in all kagai, so the following examples are just to show what it looks like!

Maiko and Geiko Version - Pontocho (先斗町) You may have noticed that before the classic Shachihoko pose is made, maiko Ichiemi (市笑) of Tanmika (丹美賀) and geiko Ichisayo (市さよ) were slipping something over their arms. These are bands that help to keep the arms in the correct position so that their body weight can be balanced. This is actually a pretty common thing to do as the Shachihoko pose is far harder to do than you’d think! Geiko Version - Gion Kobu (祇園甲部) Here we have an unassisted (no band) version done by geiko Mamechiho (豆ちほ) of Ninben (亻). She deserves all of the applause and cheers for having such strength! Bonus - Nagoya (名古屋) Version! In true Nagoya fashion, this version is done with the final pose being a competition to see who can hold it the longest. Maiko Hikono (ひこ乃) and Kei (京) and geiko Kohana (小華) show off Nagoya’s signature dance (with some added ozashiki fun) ^^ ______________________________________________________________________ The lyrics provided were translated by myself and gathered from multiple sources; I began with a set that a friend had listed, compared it to two other sets (this was one of them), and figured out which made the most sense when written out as some versions just wrote the hiragana versions of a few kanji and it made the meanings a bit more ambiguous to people who are not fluent in Japanese. In the original version some older forms of common kanji were used so I updated them as this may also confuse people.

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lost-in-our-words · 6 years

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“Stellar Hearts” Chapter I (Part I): Juliana

Again, thanks to anybody who offers any suggestions, corrections, or constructive criticism. Before I start, I need to be sure to state that this story belongs to me, so please do not copy this story in any way, shape, or form. I want to make sure I’m making my posts easy to read. And, without further ado, here is Chapter I of Stellar Hearts.

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Autumn was settling over Haynes, evident by the display of fiery hues replacing the natural green of the trees’ leaves. It was the first of October, and by now I was beginning to see residents of the isolated town break out their heavy jackets and scarves. Meanwhile, I was huddled with my friend, Mya Townsend, inside of the Cabin, a modest, yet charming restaurant which sat humbly on the outskirts of Haynes, overlooking the Foxborough woods. The two of us were partaking in our annual tradition of enjoying a warm cup of hot cocoa from one of the local restaurants when the month of Halloween struck. I watched Mya, who sat silently across from me, gazing out the large windows which had replaced the western wall of the quaint restaurant, intended to provide the restaurant’s patrons with a splendid view of the woods’ Autumn trees and their leaves which swayed back and forth ever so gently in the mid-afternoon breeze.

I ran my finger along the rim of a porcelain cup which sat in front of me on the polished table, half empty of the chocolate beverage and completely drained of what whipped cream that had arrived with it. Compared to some of the other hot cocoa’s Mya and I had tasted over the previous years, this one was quite a letdown. Between its more watered down taste and the lack of marshmallows, I was sorely disappointed. Nonetheless, hot cocoa was hot cocoa, and thus I continued to sip away, as did my friend.

Mya sat upright in her chair and ran her fingers, whose nails were glossed over with a vibrant pink, through her blonde, bobbed hair. I had learned that this signal meant she was interested in starting up a conversation. However, she was never the best at bringing about a discussion, and so, instead, I cleared my throat and offered a question to her.

“You’ve been attending that college for a couple months now,” I began, my hands now clasped around the warm mug containing the disappointing drink. “Have you figured what major you may be interested in pursuing?”

Mya glanced up with a delighted smirk on her face, more than likely because a conversation had been stirred.

With a shake of her head, she explained to me that she still hadn’t the slightest clue what she may be interested in. “I’ve still been trying to wrap my head around a few possibilities, but they all seem to not be quite what I’m looking for.” She paused for a moment and glanced into her cup, seemingly studying the bits of whipped cream which still floated on the surface of the liquid. As she lifted the mug in her hands and enjoyed the warmth which radiated from it, albeit not taking another sip, she continued. “Alexus told me before senior walkout that she was considering studying a foreign language, and, thinking that perhaps she was onto something, I had convinced myself that such a major may be interesting. Thus, I enrolled in a French class this semester, but it just isn’t enthralling enough to peak my enthusiasm.”

“Enthralling?” I questioned. “That’s some impressive vocabulary for you, don’t you think?” Of course, I was joking around with my friend, but I had never expected to hear the word “enthralling” to escape her lips.

Ignoring my remark, she continued to tell of her journey through searching for a major. “After plan A failed, I tested out a few other ideas, pondering them for some time and weighing the pros and cons. I’ve sat in on a pair of classes, including an introductory sociology class and a women’s studies class which covered gender equality.” Mya lowered her head and seemed to enjoy a faint whiff of the hot cocoa before again looking up from her mug with a particularly unamused look. “Picking a major is a ‘major’ pain in the ass, Juliana. Although, I am sure you understand my pain. Tell me, have you come any closer to discovering what you’d like to do with your life?”

She got me there. While Mya was currently attending the Haynes Community College to explore her options while also knocking out some gen-eds, I diverged from her path. Likewise to her, I was indecisive in regards to my future, but had no intention of attending classes when I was still in the dark. This was not due to financial issues as many suspected, especially as my parents are offering to cover tuition and any other expenses, but rather an issue concerning avoiding a “mental overload” as I described it. I wasn’t exactly the best at managing schoolwork in high school, and so instead, while the majority of my graduating class is spreading across the United States to pursue careers, I had made the decision to take a year off from schooling and instead am focusing on my side business of photography in the meantime. Simply enough, it was named “Juliana’s Photography,” a cheap service as I wasn’t the most talented person with Nikon, but I could provide half-decent senior portraits to those who resented the thought of paying top-dollar for something so insignificant as photographs that may live only in a scrapbook or on a house wall, and to my amazement, the business was doing rather well. In fact, I had just returned from a photo shoot and still had my carrying case full of equipment resting beside me, and after stating that I was no closer to coming across an attractive major, Mya turned her attention to this photo shoot instead, curious as to how it had gone.

I offered a vague shrug. “The shoot was nothing spectacular. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred. My subject, a fairly pretty girl from Jefferson, had this obsession with fixing her hair nonstop despite being perhaps the most photogenic person I had ever come across. Thus, to my dismay, it would take several shots before I could ultimately snap a picture where she didn’t have her fingers up and tangled in her black hair.” As I reflected on the photo shoot, the corner of my lip flicked with a delicate twitch. “Now that I think back to it, however, little miss Priss was quite the nuisance, constantly insisting that another photograph be taken because of one tiny issue that could hardly be noticed, and no matter how many times I assured her that I could fix whatever the hell it was in editing, she begged for ‘one more picture just to be safe.’”

“I couldn’t have the patience for such an annoying client,” Mya joked as a response, then continuing to sip the last of her hot cocoa.

I offered a faint chuckle in response, drawing a look of confusion from Mya. From irritation, my mood returned to collected as I recounted what occurred following the session. “Except the mother offered to pay extra, obviously understanding how much a pain her daughter was being,” I added.

“How much?”

“Double what I was charging her. As tremendously as I wanted to accept the extra payment though, I refused. I was just being humble. Nonetheless, the mother shoved the large amount of cash into my hands and scurried off with her daughter before I could reiterate that I simply couldn’t accept it.”

Mya slammed her palm on the table and sent a stern glare my way, claiming that I was an imbecile for turning down such a glorious offer. However, deep in her sea green eyes, I could see a glimmer of humor. Before I knew it, she was bursting out in a fit of laughter, dubbing her comment as a joke and begging that I should not take her seriously, and surely, I wasn’t going to take her serious anyways. She is a terrible jokester after all. Anybody with functioning eyesight could see straight through her charades.

Returning to a sitting position on the wooden chair, she took a deep breath to regain her composure. Mya sure could crack herself up.

Our conversation went silent for a moment following the madness, and amongst the discomforting feeling of the ensuing awkwardness, Mya cleared her throat. Between her lips, I spotted a thin opening as if she prepared to speak, yet not a word came out. So, in an attempt to move the conversation forward, I reached down and unzipped the unvarnished black bag sitting by my feet, keeping an eye on my friend’s fingers which glided softly along her mug as she eyed me curiously. Searching throughout the bag, my hand moved between different lenses and filters before finally arriving at my camera.

“We were originally supposed to travel out to some field by the zoo about fifteen minutes east of town,” I started, “But the clients gave me a ring last night and said they discovered this small garden up on the northern outskirts of Haynes. It’s a wonderful venue, public and free to enter, and it actually made a great backdrop in my opinion.”

Pulling the camera out of my bag and switching it on, I handed the bulky device over to Mya. “Take a look,” I insisted simply with a faint smile curled upon my lips.

Graciously, she took the camera and focused her attention to the small screen on the backside of it. For a few silent moments following, she examined the pictures one by one, quietly dissecting the images and admiring the background which I had glorified. Some of the photographs had the high school senior sitting impatiently upon a granite stone wall with an array of colorful flowers, primarily irises and tulips, behind her. In others, she was standing with her back against an old wooden shed that we had found, the timber structure rustic in nature. However, perhaps my favorite photograph was the one with the black-haired woman holding a vibrant scarlet rose to her nose as she took a whiff of its floral scent. My reverence for the photograph, however, arose from how genuinely candid it was. It took one snap of the shutters for photo to be recorded, unlike all of the other pictures which required numerous attempts. There was no need for fixing the hair, no “one more photo just in case,” but simply a wonderful portrait.

Mya paused on one of the images, and reflecting off of her pupils, I could vaguely make out the photo that I had appreciated.

“Being here in Haynes, it meant I didn’t have to get in my car and drive anywhere as well.” I dug my heel into the carpeted floor and offered a faint smirk. “That was a plus.”

My friend’s emerald eyes rolled with misunderstanding as she gently let my camera down onto the table, and slowly, she relaxed back into her chair, sending a somewhat irked glare my way. “I’ve never understood what your quarrel with driving is,” she commented with her arms crossed loosely in front of her stomach.

This was not the first time that she questioned my distaste towards driving, and sure enough it would not be the last. Never did I understand why she was so passionate about understanding this uncommon trait of mine, but she always seemed determined to convert me into a lover of driving. “I’m serious, Juliana,” she reiterated, but now with a very gentle smirk creeping their way onto her face.

“Driving is stressful,” I responded modestly. “You must have said it a thousand times how driving gives you some sort of freedom, but I hate being responsible for a two-ton vehicle on a road with a bunch of maniacs who seem to have no respect for the rules of the road.”

“Stickler,” Mya mumbled.

“I’m sorry that I don’t want to get myself killed!” I sputtered, not angrily, but more in quick retaliation, accidentally sending a shot of saliva towards Mya. She flinched from the flying fluid as it landed on the table in front of her. In embarrassment, I swiftly covered my hands over my mouth.

How disgusting that must have been?

Instead of an appalled reaction, however, my friend once again broke into a fit, and by that point, we had turned into a pair of girls sharing a bout of giggles in the restaurant, drawing the attention of the other customers. Through my joyful tears, I could see a few other people scattered here and there, generally patrons similar to our age, becoming infected by the contagious laughter as well. The mature joint was no longer quiet with hushed gossip, instead being overcome with multiple tables sharing in the mirth that we were not able to contain within ourselves. Our waiter, seemingly aggravated with the sudden guffaw, returned to our table with checks in hand, settling them upright in front of Mya and I respectively before walking off without another word. Taking the hint, the two of us signed our checks, ensuring to tip the waiter as apology for the unwanted outburst, and dashing off quickly once we were free to. Thus, us two women, still suffering from an unstoppable frenzy of laughter, were left outside face to face with the boundless Foxborough Woods.

#stellar hearts #make life a story worth telling #werewolf #romance #chapter 1 #part 1 #juliana

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the-under-archon · 5 years

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.:Pinnacle:. (AU2)

Characters: Torioi Mitsue (cultivator, AU...Mitsue), Koremune Satoru (cultivator, AU Sohza’a), Torioi Hideo & Kiyo (clan heads, AU variants), Torioi Shinya (AU Sari)

Warning(s): Vague sexy times, some violence.

Origin Date: 19 April 2019

The cultivators of Katsuragi Peak were the examples of what discipline should be in an ever-changing world. Steadfast as the mountain they called home, unrelenting as ice in the face of their morals. The heir to this bloodline finds himself tested sorely in the face of a visiting disciple. And it would be his downfall.

(Part of the AU2 arc with @ninetales-carbuncle which was inspired by Mo Dao Zu Shi concepts and practices. Which I admit I borrowed a lot from Gusu Lan Sect.)

----♦•♦----

Mitsue wasn’t quite sure when he started watching the Koremune heir. It was the usual turn of the year that saw the Katsuragi Peak open for trainees of other clans. Summer on the high mountain still held a bit of a chill but it was negligible, especially to those that spend their entire lives in the seclusion the blessed grounds bestowed upon them.

This day he’d been oddly free of his duties, assigned to attend the latest class of cultivators as a senior disciple. It also helped for the future heir to observe and learn the methods and mannerisms of the minor sects that made up Japan’s cultivation base. All were aware that the old ways were slowly dying in this modern world. People were so caught up in their cell phones, televisions, fashion, love affairs…they had no cares, or even awareness, of the things that lurked about them.

Thus education was even more important than it had ever been in history, or so the Katsuragi held firmly to that belief. Being one of the eldest sects with one of the oldest bloodlines that rivaled the Akiyama and the Hanahara, it wasn’t uncommon to foster students just as the others did. Each clan had their specialties and particular disciplines.

Here, there was no leniency. A strict code of conduct, a need for respect and decorum, and obedience to your seniors and the old ways reined atop this peak. Already Mitsue could tell /that/ man would have a difficult time with them. Most of the students chattered away as they strolled about the stone paths that curled about the varying layers of elevation that made up this place. They were new, they’d learn.

So many colors from so many clans. It was nearly blinding. The Katsuragi wore white and grey as befitting their worship of the snow, ice, wind, and water. It was a constant devotion to the power of this mountain and its sisters. When the turn of the seasons came and the pilgrimages began, it was more like spring than summer with all the colors.

Oddly enough, the loudest of the group wore dark green and brown. Rather muted but strong colors. He was a magnetic personality among his peers in the same garb. A good leader he would be having the hearts of his clan already. But would he have the discipline and patience needed to head a family in a world where such things were rapidly dissolving?

Mitsue frowned, his arms in the long sleeves of his pure white robes. Pale of flesh, hair as white as snow, eyes grey as mountain stone, he was the epitome of the Torioi bloodline and perfectly bred. With a sharp intelligence and steadfast devotion he’d taken well to the cultivation arts and would be the quintessential example of a firstborn son.

But of all the visitors, Koremune Satoru kept his attention.

----♦•♦----

Mitsue may have been a stubborn and unmovable force of discipline and study, but he wasn’t naïve. He noticed how his gaze lingered on Satoru’s hands as he wrote, how the scent of pine trees seemed to follow the energetic man, how his dark hair shone under the sun when he spun on his foot to harass one of his friends.

There was affection there. And what did Mitsue do? Stomp it down. Relationships were forbidden as a disciple within the Katsuragi. The focus should be study, not romance. Devotion, not intimacy. Once he was recognized as fully-fledged cultivator perhaps one day he would be able to wear his hair down from its hightail, the sign that he was bound to another.

But not now as a teenager in the throes of study. And that irritated him. So much so that whenever he heard that chirp of his voice, his grip tightened enough about his inkbrush that it snapped. There was a small pile of poor broken things accumulating on his desk much to the concern of the instructor. Likely that would be reported to his parents later.

----♦•♦----

“Torioi-san, eh?”

Mitsue blinked and looked up from his book. He’d taken to reading outside this afternoon, the sun high and warm and the blossoms of summer in full decadence. Fingers tightened about the spine of the old text. He should correct the lack of proper address to an heir in his home but that didn’t fly to his tongue as it normally would. “Yes? Koremune-san, correct?” Of course he knew who this was, fortunately his neutral expression didn’t give away that small wiggle of panic.

Satoru just grinned and plopped down, looking over the pages of Mitsue’s book. The close presence made the Torioi tense further. That scent of deep forests, evergreens, it filled his senses. It would be easy to lower his head, to take that scent in close in that dark hair.

“Oh, that’s the homework that’s not due for a month, right? And you’re doing it already?” A curious tilt of his head, an almost cat-like motion.

He resisted nibbling his lip in his nerves. A habit his mother had pointed out…and made a point to correct him on every time he was caught in the motion. “Yes.” A simple answer, he could do this. But on a passing thought, he raised an eyebrow. “How do you know the readings so far in advance?”

“Oh, I did it already.” That bright grin again and Mitsue watched as the other disciple pulled away to flop on the grass, arms behind his head. There he lay to bask like some feline in the sun. “What did you think about the concepts of application to the wrathful spirit in the Mo HaoChen example? Seems like they did it all wrong, don’t you think?”

A surprised blink. Did…this lackadaisical goof already get that far? Truly? Or was this some bluff? The book rested on his lap. “They followed the proper order. They couldn’t predict that a demonic cultivator had been the orchestrator of events in that village. It was approached as a singular event, not as the spark that would set the region in the middle of a five year-long battle of sects.”

“Ha, so you can say more than five words!” One of those violet eyes peeked open, a grin on those lips. “We were taking bets. Honestly I thought you were mute at first until Taira-sensei called on you. Even heirs aren’t exempt from answering questions in class, huh? Didn’t expect that here.”

There was an inkling of irritation as he looked down to that amused expression. Did they all think he was privileged because of his future position? That he would be exempt from the same examinations and rigors that everyone else was? No. If anything they were harsher! He opened his mouth to retort before a finger was held up in his face.

“And you get angry! You sit back there like some statue all of the time. Though I know you get pissed off. Your right eye twitches a bit when you think someone’s doing something stupid. Look, it’s doing it right now!” Satoru cackled.

With a ‘hmph’ Mitsue closed his book and went to stand much to the puzzled expression of the other teenager. “You’re annoying,” he mumbled before walking off.

The victorious laughter that followed his departure down the path did indeed make that eye twitch.

----♦•♦----

It was against the rules.

It would be easy to place all the blame on Satoru but as Mitsue enjoyed the sounds the smaller man made beneath him…well, it was hard to say he /wasn’t/ involved. Their trysts were quiet, secret, and secluded. Fortunately growing up on this mountain gave knowledge of many places to hide. It was against all of the discipline that the Torioi had obeyed all his life but yet he’d given in to temptation. It didn’t help that the other was /always/ around, always at his side, always trying to poke him. But time revealed that Satoru was /incredibly/ intelligent despite his personality.

In fact it had been an evening study session in the library that had led to Mitsue finally giving in and landing a chaste kiss on that olive-toned cheek. Mortified by his own actions, it had been assuaged when he’d received that surprised look, a grin, and a reciprocation on the lips. It had taken time to progress to something more physical but continued study sessions had evolved to…well study of a different kind for the two teenagers.

The first time Mitsue had returned to his room mortified, as if his mother’s fury would come crashing down and he would be made to do handstands on their family pond that never melted from freezing ice. His current record was two days and he didn’t want to extend that. Kami help him, it would be at least a /month/ if he’d been found out. Punishment never came as the secret remained just that…secret. Fear was replaced with a warmth in his chest that Mitsue wasn’t used to.

He was aware of what love was, the sect wasn’t /that/ harsh. And he loved his parents with all he had. He loved this place. And one day he would marry and love whoever was chosen for him. But this was different. It sent his heart racing whenever he sat near Satoru in class. It made him ache as they had to pretend to just be two disciples in study in that large classroom full of so many differently colored robes. And it made him lose all control when they were finally alone and those violet eyes danced in mirth and want when Satoru reached for his hand.

But the year was almost at a close. The snow was melting, spring in full bloom. Summer would be upon the Peak soon. Grey eyes almost glared at the flowers dancing in the wind outside until a hand on his side pulled him from his musing. They’d taken to one of the caves hidden near the main river that wound down the mountain where little foot traffic passed.

“You’re going to set that poor tree alight if you keep looking at it like that,” the dark-haired man purred.

With a sigh, Mitsue lay down again. The two lay bare on a blanket, curled against each other. The chill didn’t bother the Torioi but Satoru had never really learned to love the cold of the mountain. He had a tendency to burrow as closely into the taller broader man as he could. The Koremune son was of slight build, made for agility, for sneaking into places he shouldn’t be. Meanwhile his lover was growing into a broad frame, a body trained from the strict discipline of his sect. They were opposites in every way, perhaps it’s why they’d ended up like this.

“Summer’s here,” Mitsue muttered, an arm under his head as he lay on his side to allow his lover to soak up his body heat again.

Which Satoru gladly did, pressed firmly against that pale skin. “Not yet. We have a month. And we have to make it worth it.” A small sigh. Jovial he may seem, a sense of duty did hang over him. “Otou-san says the fighting’s getting worse back home. Something has the undead stirred up. Add that to the damned Ninmyo poking about. You know I’ll have to head back right away.”

Mitsue elected not to answer in the moment. The struggle of smaller clans was something he knew of but would likely never experience. As the cultivation world grew smaller and smaller and inherent talent dwindled, skirmishes weren’t uncommon between the minor clans to swell their numbers. Usually it was attempted politically at first through marriages and alliances. But the Koremune and Ninmyo had never gotten along with their close proximity. It wouldn’t be surprising if they were purposely luring undead towards the other village.

“You could stay here,” he finally mumbled. Even as the words left his lips, Mitsue knew they were fruitless.

As if Satoru could sense that, he didn’t tease. Just a small chuckle, warm breath against the body he was almost desperately burrowed against.

It wouldn’t be that easy. And they both knew it.

----♦•♦----

The cold had never bothered Mitsue. But there was some chill in the air that got to him nowadays in the wake of the summer’s students leaving. They were still disciples but much more learned than they’d arrived. He could still remember that day they left. Knowing that he’d likely be unable to keep that neutral expression in place, the Torioi had watched the class depart from a high ledge. He hoped Satoru wouldn’t mind. Likely not...he was a smart man and would know exactly why that white-clad figure wasn’t in the group at the end of that last day.

It had been five years since then. Correspondence had been regular, intimate words hidden between pages of official reporting and boring dribble. Things were constant and unchanging atop Katsuragi Peak. It wasn’t so below the mountain’s shadow. The letters that would arrive once a week dwindled to two weeks. Then a month. And now it had been half a year since Mitsue had seen the familiar sloppy scrawl of his lover. The Koremune clan was a week away by flying sword, a few weeks by boat down the river.

So why had things stopped? Mitsue found himself clinging to news during the daily meals with his parents who were much more engaged in the going-ons of the other cultivation bases. They traveled frequently as representatives and still participated in night hunts. How he found out disaster had come was from eavesdropping on some of the newest disciples.

Angry spirits had multiplied significantly in Koremune territory, finally overwhelming the clan. It was as if some power had come into the Ninmyo’s hands to turn the years of deadlock. Mitsue was gone into the night he’d heard the news.

What an influence Satoru had been on the ‘good heir.’ First those summer days and now stealing away from his home the farthest he’d ever been on a rumor. Rennai was swift beneath his feet, the silvery blade his constant companion over the years. The dark landscape flew by. Places he’d never seen and still didn’t spare a glance to. All that mattered was getting to that village. All his focus put into the sword to urge it as fast he could. A week was nothing, he wouldn’t pause

----♦•♦----

The Koremune territory was a farming community at heart to adjust to the changing times. Nestled in hills, rice paddies had been perfectly tiered and tediously tended to under the protective gaze of the head family. That was all gone now. The terraces had been torn apart, water lay murky black, and the bodies lay about everywhere.

Mitsue looked down at the carnage, gasping for breath. He’d flew for as long as his body would let him, only resting in brief stops. What had he expected here...? Something better than this? What a fool he’d been. He leaned heavily on Rennai, the sword’s sheath resting as a support on the ground. The pristine appearance of the Torioi heir was haphazard, hair fallen from his hightail, robes uneven, and dirt on his face.

There was no movement below in the growing evening that overshadowed the village. What had been done here had been done days ago, a week ago, maybe more. There were no embers or cinders, no last pockets of resistance. It was all still, ash and debris and bodies and death. The aura of resentful energy could still be felt and the studious eye of Mitsue, even in his grief, could tell some of those many bodies had at one time risen in attack.

The Ninmyo had a demonic cultivator. Or more than one with the number of corpses about. Had they been so desperate to turn to that foul forbidden practice? Had it been truly worth it to fall so far from the righteous path to gain control of a neighbor in a world where all of their bonds were so frail already?

What sense did this make? /None./

There were tears on his face that he wasn’t aware had even fallen leaving marks on the dust that marred his pale skin. Hands shook on Rennai and it was difficult to breathe.

He had to find Satoru. Somehow. If he...if he’d fallen among this mess, Mitsue would make sure his soul would find rest. Maybe he could even lay to rest this entire battlefield. It was all he could do.

----♦•♦----

They’d lingered.

Filthy plunderers, greedy men that looted the small amount of magical artifacts that the Koremune had. The clan wasn’t a hugely rich one but it was comfortable enough to survive to the modern age, supplemented with its agricultural base.

How could those damn Ninmyo /justify/ rooting about the dead, taking anything of value, not even just cultivator tools?! Jewelry, clothes, heirlooms. Mitsue didn’t even know he was moving. He wasn’t even aware of Rennai’s pure blade drawing human blood, easily parting flesh of a screaming man. A blade that had been blessed to exorcise evil now turned on mortal life.

Mitsue didn’t care. These men were evil. How could the desecrate a place like this? HOW COULD THEY BE SO GREEDY AND FOUL?! He was well-trained and strong. His movements were quicker than any normal human, the white of his robes bright in the gloom. There was no chance for retaliation. Some didn’t even get a chance to scream, to draw their own weapon in self-defense.

He cut then down.

Every.

Single.

One.

And he wasn’t even breathless from the effort as he stood in the square of the destroyed village. His grip was tight on Rennai, the jade-enlaid hilt slick with blood. Human blood. Some part of him could feel the blade’s distaste, flickering internally of its fraying bond with its cultivator. It was screaming for him to stop. But he didn’t.

Those grey eyes were like ice as he spotted movement. More looters. And so he attacked again, a herald of destruction come from its mountain to lay these corrupt souls to rest.

When all stilled, he turned west. The village of the Ninmyo clan was that way. Also agricultural, his well-trained mind recalled the facts.

Rennai wouldn’t rise to his call to carry him there. Fine, he’d walk. Nothing would stop him from cleansing this FILTH that took his loved one away.

----♦•♦----

So many fell by his sword that his arm began to fail from even his expert and effortless strikes. First it was just their cultivators. But he didn’t stop there. He was numb.

Even the enchantments of those Katsuragi robes had begun to fail, the cloth’s pristine glow stained with red at its edges, random splatter darkening the grey of its lining. The cries of his victims, innocent ones but he didn’t care, didn’t still his hand.

He was tired. Were they all gone now? Rennai was dead in his hand, just a piece of metal. It had sealed itself off from the corruption of its master to protect itself. Fine. All he needed was an edge.

A grip to his arm and he shook it off, the dripping blade raised to retaliate. But the hold returned, strong. Another gifted.

“Mitsue! STOP!”

Eyes focused to see the brilliant white before him. White cloth, loose snowy hair, pale skin, wide afraid blue eyes. One of the few men taller than him. And everything just came crashing down. There should be a fear of retribution. Of what he’d done. But the ever-dutiful son couldn’t cling to that. Instead fingers clenched into his father’s robes just so he could stay on his feet. Words struggled to leave; apologies, demands, curses. But they couldn’t escape his lips.

Torioi Hideo’s hand traveled down Mitsue’s sword arm, long fingers threading through the other’s to make him loosen his hold on that sealed blade. It fell to the dirt with a hollow sound. Arms hugged the blood-covered figure close, his other hand resting on the back of his son’s head. As if hiding his face could make this all go away.

The clan leader looked to the mess. The sorrow, the blood. Were there any survivors? Kami help them. The repercussions of this would be... Fingers tightened in the crimson-tinged strands of the crying man.

Where Lady Torioi Kiyo was a cold fire that burned fiercely, Hideo was the soothing water that flowed dutifully along its path without pause. Both were steadfast and traditional despite their duality and were a perfect union because of such things.

“Let’s go home, Mitsue. You need rest.” An understatement to what would happen. But for now, this was needed. The aftermath would come swiftly enough. And it would be fierce.

There was no fight from the young man, he had nothing left to give, nothing left to fight.

----♦•♦----

There had been no survivors reported from the Katsuragi that surveyed the area in the days past. They hadn’t been told of how the massacre occurred, just told to reconnoiter the area. However the trained eyes could tell something had happened that wasn’t the cause of restless or vengeful spirits. The disciplined cultivators laid the spirits to rest the best they could without protest and then departed, leaving no sign to what had exterminated an entire minor clan.

Rumors floated among the younger disciples unfortunately. It couldn’t be helped. They were human, they were from the more modern world where gossip was common and quick to spread. It didn’t help that Torioi Mitsue suddenly disappeared from the public eye.

Five years of seclusion. It had been an order but he’d taken it without protest. That along with fifty lashes by his father’s hand and all the privileges of his station temporarily suspended. Rennai had been taken to be purified. The blade was a remnant of the ancient Chinese cultivation sects, it was too precious to be discarded. Hopefully it could be awakened again.

The man that had emerged from seclusion was soulless, wandering about the family household as if a ghost. Then he’d met Shinya. The boy had been taken in during his years of seclusion. Still in his single digits, the dark-haired child clung to Kiyo as if she were his birth mother. And that fearsome warrior of a woman treated him as she did her own flesh and blood, gentle but firm, loving but guiding. Watching such a thing finally brought a bit of life back to the eldest son.

Shinya was so small, so skittish. Peering up at Mitsue’s tall form with that one bright blue gaze, half his face hidden under a medicated cloth. He’d been told that the child had been found in the Ghost Markets to be picked apart for his spiritual energy, bit by bit. The eyes were an amazing reservoir of spiritual energy and one had been plucked out already by some evil being. Fortunately Kiyo had found him before anything else could happen.

This he would protect. His sins couldn’t be erased even if his parents had done their best to keep the rumors in control. He’d always know what he’d done. But when Mitsue walked about the Peak with the young boy in his arms, he could forget for a bit.

This boy with hair as dark as ink, just like another man he knew with laughing violet eyes.

This he would protect.

#short story #au #au2 #ok not so short a story #this got out of hand

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giveuselife-blog · 7 years

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The Fitness of America - A New Call to Hands

New Post has been published on https://giveuselife.org/the-fitness-of-america-a-new-call-to-hands/

The Fitness of America - A New Call to Hands

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Your spirit Your thoughts and Your nerve machine without all 3 of those being at peak efficiency, you may now not stay out the existence at the extent of Health that you are able to living.

You are the product these days of all of the decisions and choices you have made for your existence up to date. no longer all of them were top choices have they? A lot of them have resulted in Some of the very Health issues that you’ll be contending with these days. Some of the negative choices which you have made had been due to a lack of understanding, however, which could give up proper now. it is actual that we’re merchandise of our past, however, we do not have to be prisoners of it. This will be the beginning of an entirely new you. God loves new beginnings and his purpose for the relaxation of your life is not restricted via your beyond. You may start fresh these days and base the selections on the way you stay and deal with your life and Health and that of your family on reality and on stable ideas of healthy living.

What are you waiting for? you’ve got not anything to lose however the illness and illnesses that plague you. Within the next collection of articles, I can begin to interrupt down each thing of your Fitness. We can speak eating regimen/nutrition, losing weight, detoxifying your body, exercise successfully, clearing your nerve system from any interference that may exist, and many other elements that, collectively, make up your modern-day kingdom of Fitness. Don’t forget, it is the choices which you make nowadays that will determine your stage of Fitness the following day!

Search for my articles on all of the subjects above in addition to all of the future articles that I will write concerning the HOW of becoming more healthy every yr which you are alive.

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