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twomiddlefingersforthehaters · 1 year

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死ぬ (shinu) - die

Anko had a murder-suicide move that Oro taught her, and she was going to use it to kill themselves together. What she saying to Orochimaru was " You and I are going to die here". If we look at What she said before arriving there was ;

Raw: ここで私が命に代えても仕止めなきゃ...

Romaji: koko de watashi ga inochi ni kaete mo tsukamatsu tomenakya....

Literal : I have to put an end to it, even if it's cost my life...

Raw: たとえそれがかなわなくとも・・・とにかく暗部が来るまで足止めだけでもしておく･･･

Romaji : tatoe sore ga kanawanakutomo ･･･tonikaku anbu ga kuru made ashidome dake demo shiteoku ･･･

Literal : Even if that doesn't work... Atleast, I'll slow you down until the Anbu comes...

Shinjū here is tagged as a business. It denotes not to oneself, but to the whole. She was risking her life to stop the destruction that Orochimaru could cause to Konoha. So it's Not only to oneself. But it is for Konoha.

自殺する (jisatsu suru) - to kill oneself; commit suicide

Shinjū has been classified into two major categories, johshi (mutually consented lovers' suicide) and oyako-shinjū (parent-child suicide), the latter of which is subclassified further such as boshi-shinjū (mother-child suicide), fushi-shinjū (father-child suicide), and ikka-shinjū (family suicide).

Unable to pay off debts family commit suicide. In the case of an entire family committing suicide, it is usually the father who takes the lead, probably because most family suicides are the result of the financial failure of the father, who is facing bankruptcy or heavy debt. Spouse may come in agree with this but children may not know their decisions. In some cases, the parent gets "scared" of suicide and becomes the sole survivor. The concept of an entire family dying together in response to some tragedy of their existence is captured by the term "ikka shinjū", literally as "one family"/ "center of the heart."

"Muri- shinjū" is when a family member, usually a mother or father, murders their child, children or other family member and then commits suicide. "muri-shinjū" is a better term as "muri" in this instance means by force/against one's will. While *ikka-shinjū" does mean the suicide of an entire family, what it implies is that they all chose to commit suicide. There are also various combinations of family relationships that may be involved in these so-called 'forced' suicides.

Boshi-shinjū in which the children, who are too young to decide on suicide themselves, are killed by their mothers.

Mother - child suicide : mother killing oneself and her children over martial or other problem [ it was oya-ko shinjū (joint parent-child suicide), a traditional Japanese form of suicide which is still an everyday occurrence in Japan]. However, a mother who commits joint suicide may justify her act by the fact that she would be considered very cruel if she left young children behind. The mother who commits suicide without taking her child with her is blamed as an oni no yo na hito ("demon- like" person).

In fushi-shinjū the fathers (who are usually older than the boshi- shinju mothers) kill their children (who are older than the victims of boshi-shinjū), and then commit suicide. The most common reasons for boshi-shinjū are psychiatric disorders and family conflicts, while those of fushi-shinjū are financial problems and physical illness or other problems.

There are more like these:

An elderly mother begins to become a burden (due to Alzheimer's) to her middle-aged son. He has to give up his job until the breaks down point comes. So the son decides to commit suicide by killing his mother, but the passer-by saves him and the son fails to commit suicide. Later, he committed suicide by jumping from the main bridge into the river. He left a note saying he wished to be cremated with the umbilical cord his mother had left. There is no comparably euphemistic or honorific term for children taking the lives of their parents.

the husband killing the adulterous wife, rather than the wife committing suicide with her lover. Considering this, it seems that any unnatural death (murder or suicide) that was induced by extra-marital love was considered "shinjū."

Poverty is the main reason for most of them but it is not the only reason behind everything. There may be unemployment, debts, abusive relationships etc.. They find that their situation is irretrievable/unbearable and finally decides to give up their lives through murder and suicide. More cases in real life lead to 無理心中(forced suicide), but when they decide that it is better to give up life and die together, it is not always with consent.

Let's move on to Lover's suicide

@sneezemonster15 & @maoam made a post about Chikamatsu Monzaemon and how Kishimoto is a fan of the guy and his bunraku/kabuki plays.

心中 (Shinjū) - double suicide

Although it is not clear when exactly the first case of double-suicide occurred, the practice of dying together as shinjū started appearing in haikai poetry in the Enpō era (late 1670s); [“Shinjū nara ware o izanae gokuraku e 心中なら我をいざなへ極楽へ” (“If this is shinjū, please take me to heaven”) by Sogen 素玄 (1676)], and Kabuki nenpyō claims that the first shinjū incident and shinjū kabuki plays appeared in Tenna 3 (1683) [According to Kabuki nenpyō, “the beginning of shinjū as an art form (shinjū-gei)” occurred in Tenna 3 (1683) at Arashi Sanzaemon-za, Araki Yojibee-za, and Yamatoya Jinbee-za theaters. It is said to be a dramatization of one of the first love suicide incidents in the Edo period, in which a prostitute and a blind performer died together]. Jōruri followed the example of kabuki, with Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Sonezaki shinjū, first performed in 1703, as the first successful example of a love suicide jōruri play (although there were several earlier love suicide jōruri plays that did not achieve popularity). Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s first sewamono, Sonezaki shinjū (1703), was first performed in Takemoto-za theater in Osaka. The story was originally taken from a real incident that is also recorded in Shinjū ōkagami. Sonezaki shinjū did not appear as a sudden mutation in 1703, but rather as a fruit that developed from earlier theatrical tropes and conventions. In fact, the dramatization of contemporary sensational incidents such as double suicides was already common in kabuki in Osaka prior to the birth of sewamono jōruri, from as early as 1683, which also contributed to the establishment of the genre of sewamono in jōruri puppet plays. The popular interest in love suicides as sensational news was widespread in the late seventeenth century. The image of the prostitutes who participated in love suicides, as well as the image of love suicide itself, were negative in contemporary ukiyozōshi fiction, but they were depicted more sympathetically in kabuki plays, especially domestic plays called sewamono.

Shinjū derived from the practices among courtesans and prostitutes in the pleasure quarters (The word was also used in homosexual relationships. It was quite popular among men to hurt themselves in order to show their love to their homosexual partners). It also a belief in reincarnation perhaps encourages the lovers to abandon this life and to hope for a final union in the next life. However, shinjū’s original meaning was not “love suicide.” The term literally means “inside one’s heart,” and when read shinchū, the word dates as far back as the Nara period, meaning “one’s heart”. The term “shinjū” did not necessarily mean “love suicide” in the early Edo period, even in pleasure quarters; it was often used as shinjū-date, or “proving one’s heart.” Courtesans and prostitutes who were obliged to take multiple customers sought to prove their dedication to their lovers. Shikidō ōkagami introduces six different kinds of shinjū practiced by the prostitutes and courtesans in the pleasure quarters: pulling out one’s nails, writing oaths (sometimes using blood), cutting one’s hair, getting a tattoo relating to one’s lover, chopping off one’s finger, and ultimately, stabbing oneself (non-fatally).

The use of “shinjū” as “love suicide” was popularized through popular theater and fiction that dramatized actual cases of love suicide beginning in the Genroku period (1688-1704). Jōruri plays the most significant role in spreading the idealized image of love suicide. The majority of early sewamono jōruri up through the early eighteenth century take the theme of shinjū, specifically love suicide in which a young couple, often a townsman and a low-ranked prostitute, die together. Chikamatsu Monzaemon wrote twenty-four sewamono domestic plays, eleven of which are about love suicide. Chikamatsu’s eleven love suicide plays can further be divided into roughly four categories according to the class of the heroine and the couple’s marital status. Four are about a low-ranked prostitute and a single townsman; two are about a low-ranked prostitute and a married townsman; two are about a townswoman and a townsman; three are about a married couple, but all of them belong to the bottom class of the society, having some sort of financial problems, and lacking agency over their own lives.

For many Japanese, "sharing death appears to be the culmination of togetherness. ' Every human being is born into and leaves this life by himself. Even those in the most intimate relationships have to part with each other when one of them dies. Therefore, sharing death with someone can be the ultimate expression of oneness signifying the fusion of the two distinct self-boundaries.

The influence of devoted male love on depictions of male-female devoted lovers in Edo literature is most clearly seen in double-suicide (shinjū) stories and plays, in which "devoted love" was linked with death. Shinjū was a means of giving visible, physical manifestation in the body to the inner secrets of the heart. It also a gesture of devotion, an outward display of "what was in the heart ", involving simple acts of self-wounding by a man or a youth to show the sincerity of their feelings, these included writing vows in blood, piercing the flesh on the arms or thighs, cutting the skin, and in extreme cases amputation of a finger.

During the rule of the Tokugawa bakufu, male-male homosexual relations were most commonly referred to by two main terms: Nanshoku and Shudō. Nanshoku appeared as the subject of innumerous popular books, as well as songs, poems, and woodblock prints, and was much more intrinsically connected with Tokugawa popular culture than with any Buddhist philosophics. The word Shudō placed the love of male youths in the same frame as other "ways" or pursuits, such as chadō ("way of tea" or Japanese tea ceremony), kadō ("way of flowers" or Japanese flower arranging), and budō ("way of martial arts" or Japanese traditional martial arts training). Homosexual interactions between men was implied in poetry and stories during the Heian Period (794-1185). Evidence of homosexual relationships as early as the Heian period appear in diaries of notable court figures, such as Fujiwara Yorinaga (1120-1156), who detailed sexual encounters with a range of male partners. Despite its lack of any direct mention of male-male relationships. However, comparatively few substantial or explicit texts of male-male sexual relationships were produced by the Heian court. Female-female homosexuality did not share the same cultural acceptability that male-male homosexual relations enjoyed during the Tokugawa period, and written depictions of female-female sexual relations from seventeenth century Japan are few. Homoerotica especially flourished in the Edo period through a type of erotic art, called shunga. Shunga, meaning “spring picture”, was a type of ukiyo-e, or “art of the floating world”, and was created with the usage of woodblocks and stamping methods. During this period, the ruling Tokugawa Shogunate was known to have established strict censorship laws on “immoral” content, yet shunga was never harshly criticized by the government.

Gay love letters are often referred to in Japanese literature, notably in the collection of forty stories in The Great Mirror of Male Love (Nanshoku &okagami) (1687) written by Ihara Saikaku (1642-93) describing (and advocating) love between adult men and youths. In kabuki theatre, the actors (handsome young men dressed as boy or women) often received hundreds of love letters from the men who watched him perform. In addition to love letters, men would often prove their love for one another by slashing their arms or cutting their thighs or, quite common, slicing off the tip of their thumb and tossing it on the stage as if it were a bouquet of flowers.

Early Edo era tattoos, some featuring designs that would be completed only when lovers' hands were joined, also came and went. It called as Irebokuro, tattooed moles. When lovers clasped hands the moles on each person would line up exactly and thus were unique. Tattooed moles were all self-applied (or the partner would do it.) This particular place was chosen because when lovers would hold hands they would be touching the dots. In, Kōshoku ichidai otoko (1682; The Life of an Amorous Man) written by Ihara Saikaku. It gives reference to tattooing of a homosexual relationship between two men. This different variant of a Shinjū is the tattooing of the characters of the lover's name.

#sns #narusasu #sasunaru #masashi kishimoto #Naruto manga #my stuff #double suicide

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astro-can · 7 months

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mori knows whats up

#soukoku #i still hate mori #he can die in a whole #but he ships it lol #he's gaslighting dazai omg #dazai #chuuya #double suicide

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doublesuicide19 · 10 months

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Happy birthday idiot ❤️‍🩹

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roseburning · 2 months

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I have not finished watching BSD yet, but IF IT DOESN'T END WITH THOSE BITCHES GOING FULL ON "ROMEO AND JULIET'S DOUBLE SUICIDE STYLE"--

Please, no spoilers :)

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This is the scenario I came up with:

Dazai is fatality injured during a big final battle (probably after sacrificing himself), Yosano is unreachable or far away. Chuuya see Dazai all covered in blood on the ground and kneel next to him, not realizing that he's crying. They both KNOW that there's nothing they can do, but Dazai smiles and whispers something only Chuuya can hear (not even the audience) and Chuuya holds a knife in Dazai's hand and stabs his heart. The life leaves quickly his eyes as Chuuya cries, lays his head on Dazai's dead body, only to also stab himself with the same knife.

Later, when the battle is over, they're found like this:

#soukoku #dazai x chuuya #bsd chuuya #ooc #bsd dazai #chuuya x dazai #romeo and juliet #Double suicide #Dazai and Chuuya are Romeo and Juliet #alternative ending #Dazai's typical suicidal thoughts

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poisonandmurder · 1 year

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I want the cafe 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 to be odasaku’s sister. Idk man make a fanfic about it, please.

#bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #odasaku #late night thoughts #actually it’s 4:25 am #make a fanfic please #idc if it’s #odazai #I want to see dazai’s reaction #dazai osamu #Bungo stray dogs #Bungo gay dogs #double suicide #Soukoku #the tag is just popular and contains lots of writers.#bungou sd #ao3fic #ao3 stuff

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bannedfromthepharmacy · 1 year

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Double suicide

Give this a note if you’re a beautiful woman willing to commit double suicide with me.

#Double suicide #dazai osamu #suicide #bungō stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #beautiful women #looking for a beautiful woman to commit double suicide with me

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rikiblues · 1 year

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shinjū (心中)

featuring. enhypen ni-ki x fem!oc contents. 86!au, angst, heavy angst, major character death, assisted suicide blood and gore, detailed injuries, racism, discrimination, mentions of concentration camps, forced military enlistment. fluff, love confessions, first kiss.

track. voices of the chord, sawano hiroyuki word count. 5080

note. some world notes; they're fighting a war against war machines called the legion, the 86 are people w colored hair and eyes thrown out of san magnolia by the alba, people w white/silver hair and eyes. they fight in war machines called juggernauts that don't account for pilot safety, and they communicate using a device called para-raid. handlers are alba military officials who direct them from inside san magnolia, typically incredibly abusive, and the 86 have little to no rights at all. that's it for this au, hope you enjoy ahah

Hazy darkness begins to give way to golden light.

Riki Nishimura opens his eyes slowly, aware of his head spinning, aware that he's practically numb. Not good—he has to be bleeding badly somewhere. Being able to feel pain, he's learned, is better than experiencing so much pain that your body goes into shock.

He blinks, and blinks again. Slowly his awareness spreads out, and his nose is hit with the metallic tang of blood. So much that he stiffens, wondering just how screwed he is. Just how many others they're losing again today...and if he himself is on that list.

That nonexistent list only etched in the hearts of their comrades. The only memorial allowed to them. Nothing else—not even a simple grave, not even a burial.

He chuckles a bit when he remembers Shinei Nouzen and his scraps of metal retrieved from ruined Juggernauts, engraved messily with the names of fallen comrades. Riki hasn't yet lived long enough to be a name bearer, but regardless of whether he doesn't have a call sign, Shin will take a piece of his Juggernaut and write his name. It comforts him.

Of course, the thought of this all means that he's dying. He wouldn't think like this if he truly believed he had a way out of here.

A small sob gets his attention, and his head—thankfully he can move that fine—snaps to his left, and he jolts. There lies Mila, soaked with blood, her brown hair so soaked with it that it's darker, drippign droplets of it. Not all of it is her own, that much is obvious.

And she has a gun pointed right at Riki's head.

"I'm sorry," she hiccups, "I'm sorry, I can't—this isn't what I—"

Watching the only girl he's ever loved do this breaks his heart. Nobody should be subjected to this. The gun's muzzle is a full six feet or more away from him, and he will die instantly should Mila pull the trigger. Like he knows she will.

"Mila," he says hoarsely, "please."

Her hand shakes but she does her level best to keep it steady. "Riki," she lets out another sob. "Why? We—we were supposed to—"

"I know," Riki is beginning to feel the first sensations of pain from somewhere around his chest, a stinging ache. Crap. A chest wound. He's not getting out of this alive. "But remember what we talked about. Remember what we promised."

Mila cries harder.

𓆩♡𓆪

Midnight meetings at the age of sixteen aren't out of the norm, especially as an Eighty-Sixer. Comfort is hard to come by, and they will take any of it that they can.

Riki Nishimura is one of those many hopeless Colorata, clinging onto some pathetic resemblance of hope and humanity when really, what is there left anymore for him to live on for? Perhaps the pride of an Eighty-Six. He knows he values that above far too much—never will he ever descend to the level of the white pigs.

Even if it means biting his tongue bloody as the Handler throws verbal assault at them. He wishes so badly sometimes he can rip the Para-RAID off his ear, but of course, it's permanently attached, while the oh-so-wise and noble Alba get to wear pretty little collars as they like. Hilarious. But unsurprising.

Why is he getting so angry about this at one in the morning? Probably the lack of sleep. He doubts he's ever slept this badly in the two years he's been serving as part of two different squads. Part of him wonders how he's still alive, and then he remembers he'll just die anyway, so he chooses not to worry about that.

"Riki?" a voice hisses in his ear. "Where the hell are you?"

He stifles a giggle. "I'm looking for something in my Juggernaut," he whispers back. No one is actually in the hangar with him right now—Mila just likes to worry when he doesn't show up to their little rendezvous on time, hence the Para-RAID call. "I'll be quick."

"Riki, it's literally pitch-dark in the hangar. What do you think you'll be able to find in there? And anyway, where are the mechanics?"

"Asleep in their rooms, I'd assume."

Mila lets out a sigh. "Well, be quick and don't trip over something. You'll get in trouble."

"I know, I know," Riki mumbles, squinting in concentration as he feels around the cockpit of his Juggernaut for the rock he had picked up today while out on sortie. They'd lost another squad member today—Harua, the only other Orienta in their squad—and he'd spent too long crying over him. The only upside was the little, albeit kind of stupid, gift he had found for Mila while they retrieved another squad member stuck in the wreckage of his own Juggernaut.

"I saw Shin walk past just now," Mila says after a moment. "He looked...sad."

"He can emote?" is Riki's automatic, unthinking response. He immediately winces, realizing how insensitive that is. "Sorry, I...I just mean, he usually looks so..."

Cold. Unfeeling. Like a reaper.

"...he had a piece of Harua's Juggernaut, I think," Mila responds quietly. "There was something metal and shiny in his hand."

"Oh." Riki bites his lip, continuing dig around the cockpit. The metal is still warm from the day's sortie, not aided by the fact it has no cooling system whatsoever (or that the hangar is just a wooden warehouse-looking building with the mechanics' tools in it). "That's...that's good."

At least Harua will be remembered, Riki consoles himself. Shinei Nouzen is a strange boy, but a mostly reliable one. Riki says mostly because he knows next to nothing about the guy, other than his apparent interest for reading.

Everyone knows of their silent squad mate's habits now—from his absolutely silent footsteps to his tendency of collecting remnants of fallen comrades' Juggernauts, engraving their names on the shards, and keeping them hidden away. The Eighty-Six aren't allowed to have graves, which just contributes to the Legion problem, so Riki supposes that it happens to be Shin's way of giving them one.

Like a reminder. Like a memorial to who they were in life.

"Found it!" he mutters triumphantly when his hand comes in contact with a small, cooler object round but slightly oblong in shape. He quickly closes his fist around it and clambers down from his uncomfortable perch of leaning over the side of the Juggernaut, massaging his ribs with a grimace as he lands on his feet lightly.

"Found what?" Mila asks.

"You'll see," Riki replies cheekily, trying to keep the mood up. Losing squad mates is nothing new, honestly—by the next sortie, either they'll all die or they'll have to be reassigned to different squads. Riki knows which one is likelier, but a small, stupid part of him hopes he and Mila will make it.

"Okay, okay, just get over here already," Mila says impatiently. "I'm getting antsy. Do you know how weird it is to just in a corridor by a closed door? Not even by a window? When it's one in the morning?"

"I'm almost there," Riki whines, hastening his footsteps, making sure that Mila hears them. The settings on the Para-RAID are usually kept to the lowest—only transmitting sound and unfortunately, just a hint of emotion—both because Riki hates people reading into anything more than what he shows, and also because he refuses to be caught off-guard by the Handlers. Besides, it's funny to stomp his feet and feel Mila's wince as she no doubt thinks about the scolding they'll get if they're to be caught.

The darkness isn't so absolute that Riki can't see his hand in front of his face, but it's still a relief to emerge into the moonlight. The Eighty-Six don't exactly have electricity access, at least not at night, so they usually guide themselves by moonlight. And, well, on moonless nights...there are other ways.

"Riki, hurry up unless you want Raiden to go all mom-mode," Mila hisses, "because I think I just heard him talking to Shin!"

"I'm almost there," Riki repeats, "meet me outside. I've got something for you."

Immediately, Mila falls silent. "Okay," she responds, and he can practically hear the gears in her brain turning. It's amusing how he can do things like this and Mila will give it genuine thought.

It takes less than two minutes for them to meet outside the barracks, and Riki reaches up to cut off the Para-RAID connection himself. Mila looks up at him with narrowed eyes for a second before looking at his hands clasped behind his back. She knows better than to try and look at it, instead raising an eyebrow at him.

"Patience, Mila dear," Riki says mischievously, much to her frustration. She frowns at him and strides ahead, but Riki knows all too well that she isn't actually upset, just messing around with her. Okay, and maybe a little pissed he took so long to get here, which. Fair.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he calls out, giggling, striding after her. His longer legs help him reach her faster and Mila turns around, her own face breaking out in a grin, sparkly in the same way her blue eyes are. In the moonlight, both her eyes and her brown hair—signifying her mixed Deseria and Rubis ancestry—take on a silvery, washed-out sheen, but she's no less beautiful.

Mila Clemens is so beautiful it hurts to look at, a little bit.

(Okay, so. Riki might be a little whipped for her.)

"I do not want to be subjected to another scolding," Mila scolds, "and I don't think you want one, either."

"Then let's go before we get caught," Riki says, taking her hand and breaking into a run. Mila's startled shriek pierces the air as she's forced to run on light steps, dragged along behind him. He knows nobody will actually care—Raiden knows they need times like this after days like this, before days like tomorrow inevitably will be—and that in the end, as long as they don't wander too far, they'll be fine.

"Riki Nishimura!" she shrieks, but she's also laughing and her other hand is clutched around his wrist. "You're going to make me fall!"

"You're more nimble than that!" Riki calls back, giggling harder than ever as they reach the small hill they usually find themselves climbing at night. He sprints up to the top without pausing, and neither do his giggles or Mila's frantic yells and laughs and curses.

"I swear to god—" Mila cuts herself off with another high-pitched shriek as the two of them tumble to the soft grass, all because Riki throws himself down and takes Mila with him. They hit the grass in an undignified heap, giggling uncontrollably.

Riki unentangles himself from her. Their laughter dies down and they lie on their backs side-by-side, gasping for air as they look up at the night sky. If it weren't for the moon, they wouldn't be able to see each other at all.

And this is their purpose: going out almost every night, especially on nights when they lose members (which happens far too often) to look at the stars. To look at those distant lights, to wonder if there exists other beings in one of those planets, watching the Legion War, watching country after country be wiped out, watching San Magnolia kill off the Eighty-Six in their characteristically brutal fashion.

All of a sudden, Riki misses Harua with a sharp aching just behind his ribs, right over his heart.

Harua is far from the first teammate that Riki has ever lost. But they'd been closer than one might expect—a sort of expectable bond forged from being the singular Orienta in the squad. The white pigs may be just that, but that doesn't mean the Eighty-Six are great all the time, either. Riki and Harua had both seen their fair share of discrimination for their skin color, for the difference in how they looked. Even if their current squad members are all pretty cool, the hurt stays, always. Especially when you're supposed to be sticking together against the Alba.

"Mila?" Riki whispers. "Today, when I was going to check on—on Harua, I found something."

He can feel Mila turn on her side to look at him. Harua's Juggernaut had been downed, and Riki had stupidly jumped out of his own wrecked one to go get to him, before Raiden had sharply ordered him to stay where he was. Raiden isn't their squad captain, but they've learned to listen to people like him and Shin, by now.

Riki had spotted the shiny little rock in the ground right before he'd climbed back into his Juggernaut, biting his lip at the fact that one of his teammates was fighting to protect him. In the end, that teammate scraped by with a little bit more than a nasty gash to the face from flying shards of metal during the battle.

That little rock was what he held onto, hunching his shoulders, biting his lips, as he listened to Harua's terrified scream echoing through the air, through the Para-RAID connection, before the Legion unit brought a blade down and neatly beheaded him. Nobody was able to save him. Nobody was able to end it for him before they took him.

Such is their life, but it doesn't stop him from getting upset every now and then.

"What did you find?" Mila asks, and that's when Riki turns around to face her as well. He reaches out a fist between the two feet that separate them, and drops the shiny little rock. Mila picks it up, examining the smooth, blue surface. "It's pretty."

"I know it's stupid," Riki says awkwardly, "but you saved me today, so I just..."

There are a hundred different things he could've done. Take her laundry duty. Help the girls in the kitchen. Go hunting with the boys for a change and bring something back for her. So many acts that could've won her over, and he chose to give her a stupid rock.

But he can't find it in himself to regret it, knowing Mila likes these small gestures better than anything else. Something small, meaningful. Though what the rock is supposed to mean, Riki isn't really sure, other than that the shade matches her eyes.

"I didn't save you," Mila says, "and it's not stupid. It matches my eyes, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, well..." Riki coughs. To this day, he doesn't know how to handle it when Mila calls him out so obviously like this. "Don't deviate from the point. If you hadn't warned me, I would've been dead. That Ameise would've—" he makes a slicing motion across his throat.

"Julien warned you, too," Mila points out, turning the rock over in her hands. She likes it, Riki thinks with a burst of joy.

"Yeah, half a second after you," Riki counters.

Mila laughs. "Okay, okay, I get your point," she says, turning onto her back again. Riki somehow finds the courage to stay where he is, looking at her. She must notice, but makes no comment on it. "Is this some kind of courting gift, Nishimura?"

Riki blinks. "Huh?"

"I said," she repeats without turning to look, but a playful smile curls on her lips, "is this some kind of courting gift?"

His ears burst into flame, practically. "I—I don't—know?" Riki stammers out, which prompts Mila to burst into laughter, finally turning to look at him again. "Why would you—?"

"Sophia told me you may have a crush on me." The words make Riki's face and ears burn worse. "And, well, once I started looking for the signs..."

What little he can see of her blue eyes seem darker. "We don't know when our last sunrise will be. So...I thought to myself, what's the worst that could happen, if I went for it?"

That kills the fluttery feelings swirling in his chest, the hotness in his face. He exhales slowly, turning onto his back, too, eyes tracking the shapes of the constellations in the sky, trying to work out what to say, and how to say it.

"At first," he starts, "you didn't really seem special to me."

Normally, Mila would be making fun of him for that, but now she just listens quietly, humming in response. Riki sucks in another breath, because what he wants to say is by no means an easy feat, but he feels the need to say it, because he could die tomorrow, and he doesn't want to leave anything unsaid. As somber as it is, the thought of it kills his nerves.

"You were just another Processor," Riki goes on. "Yeah, you're really pretty, and yeah, there aren't many girls in our squad—" or even among the Eighty-Six as a whole "—but I was just focused on getting better at...not dying, you know? Because the truth is, death scares me. Even if our entire lives are shrouded in death."

"What changed?" Mila asks. Her hand finds his in the semi-darkness overlaid with silvery light. "Or, well, when did that change?"

"I guess when the platoons were first reorganized," Riki reflects, "and we had to work together. I dunno. I just know we started to work together more and it kinda went on from there?"

"It was like that for me, too," Mila admits. "I mean, it's hard not to notice one of the only Orienta in the squad when he's basically a loner, but...you get what I mean."

"Yeah," Riki agrees, "I do." A beat of silence, and then, "it's—it was Harua who helped me realize. That I like you, I mean. That I like you a lot."

"Really?" Mila sounds startled; Riki doesn't turn his head to look. He's afraid he might lose whatever this rush of courage flowing through him is if he looks. "Harua?"

"Yeah."

"He helped me realize, too," she reveals. Riki blinks, but keeps his head firmly in place. "He pestered me about it a lot before I gave in and faced my feelings. He didn't tell me anything about you, though. That was all Sophia."

"So he was playing matchmaker the entire time," Riki huffs out a laugh. "Wanna bet both he and Sophia were in on it together?"

"Why bet when we know that for a fact? Sophia's a sucker for romance," Mila snorts, right as Riki lets out another giggle, thinking of their mischievous, hyperactive friend.

The silence falls, though, when the weight of her words settle in.

And yet, Riki refuses to let this chance go to waste. This could be their last night under the stars. Their last night together. The last chance to tell her what he needs to say.

"Mila." He sucks in a breath. His hand clutches hers tighter. "I love you."

She whispers back a quiet, "me too."

Joy bursts through Riki's entire being, and he turns to face her, grinning like the biggest damn fool on the planet. Mila turns to face him at the same time, and their eyes meet, and they're both giggling and grinning and just reveling in the sheer ridiculousness and euphoria of the moment and Riki just loves her so much he doesn't know what to do with all of this feeling.

"I'm going to sound really cheesy," Mila warns, "but sometimes I feel like nobody else complements me the way you do."

"Stop!" Riki starts actually laugh. "No romancing in the middle of the night!"

"You're romancing me too!"

"Only because I can't help it!" he protests, mouth aching from all this smiling. "You expect me to be able to help it—"

A sudden noise not too far off startles them both and they're up like lightning, ready to run, hands on the guns strapped to their waists. Riki's head swivels, heart pounding. He can't pinpoint where the noise came from. Did a Legion unit actually manage to sneak up on them? How much did they have left? Could they still run—

"Just a rabbit," Mila sighs out in relief, pointing to the animal a little distance way. "We're fine. Legion units make more noise than that anyway."

"Unless it's an antipersonnel type," Riki mutters, "but we're not on the battlefield, so."

Not exactly relieving, but Riki takes it. He sits down heavily on the grass, acutely aware of how ruined their mood is. Mila sits down beside him and lays her head on his shoulder.

"It's frustrating, isn't it?" Mila murmurs. "Knowing that there's love to be found in places as awful as this, but not knowing if we can live to experience it to the fullest."

"But I'd love you anyway," Riki says. "Even if I died, I'd love you."

"That's physically impossible."

He shrugs. "Just because something is supposedly impossible doesn't mean I can't promise to do it anyway. Because I will, you know. I will love you till death, beyond death, even."

"Okay, then," Mila says quietly. "I believe you. Because I will, too."

"But," he continues, "promise me you won't let them take me. If worst comes to worst...please. Do it. End it. Don't let them take me. I can stop them from taking you, but I can't defend myself if it comes to that."

"I'd kill myself before I let them take you," Mila whispers. "That's a promise."

"I won't let them take you, either," Riki vows firmly.

And when he leans down to press a kiss to her hair, she looks up. There's no negativity in there; she just looks sad and surprised all at once. "I love you," she murmurs. "I don't want to lose you."

But you'll lose me anyway. I'll lose you anyway.

Riki leans down to really kiss her, inching slowly so that she can move away if she doesn't want to, but she doesn't. Their lips meet and the kiss is simultaneously the best (first, actually) and saddest kiss of his whole life; they're slightly shaking in each other's hold, and Riki feels the sting of tears in his eyes.

"I don't want to lose you, either," he whispers when they pull apart. He hugs her tightly, burying his face in her brown hair. "I can't lose you, either."

But loss goes hand in hand with life anyway, doesn't it?

𓆩♡𓆪

And so, here they are. Trapped at the edge of a cliff of death where there is only one way to go—down. Down, down, down, until they are no more.

Riki's been impaled in the chest by flying shrapnel and he can't even tell if it's numbness or the actual loss of his right leg that makes him unable to feel it. Mila's entire left forearm is gone. There's shrapnel embedded in her shoulder, and a deep gash from somewhere on her torso is dripping blood everywhere. God, the two of them will not be making it.

Hence why they need to end it. Now.

"Do it," Riki urges, starting to inhale deeply, but stopping when pain ricochets through him faster than that bullet can travel. "Mila, come on. We don't know when they'll come back."

For all he knows, their squad-mates have driven the Legion away from Riki and Mila's ruined units to allow them time to end it, or something.

"I promised," Mila cries. "But I—I can't do it to you—"

"You should be able to do it because it's me," Riki lets out a rattling breath. He can taste blood in his mouth, in his throat. "Because you don't want me to be taken by them. Because you don't want me crying out for you for all eternity in a craze."

The admission that his last words would be about Mila snaps something inside her. He can tell from the way her eyes harden. The way she closes them, inhales deeply despite the pain wracking her body right about now. Because of course she doesn't want that; she wouldn't wish that upon anyone but the white pigs. And even then, being taken by the Legion seems all too cruel.

"I don't want that to happen to you, either," Riki whispers. Tears well up in his eyes, hot and burning. "Harua's already gone. I couldn't save him, so please. Please. Don't let it happen to either of us."

He fumbles around for his own gun, and levels it at her. His hands shake but he's sure of himself. Ending Mila's life by his own hands? A muchbetter alternative. The only choice he has.

It's better than being beheaded by the Legion, becoming nothing more than a central core processor for one of their units. To be multiplied infinitely until there's so many of them screaming their death throes over and over again.

Riki knows this, because he overheard Shin talking to Raiden. He wishes to this day he hadn't known that, because now it makes the idea of becoming a Legion unit all the more terrifying.

He steadies the gun, closes his finger around the trigger, begins to pull just as Mila begins—

"MILA!" a voice shrieks, accompanying stomping footsteps. "RIKI! Where are you guys?"

"Sophia," Mila's eyes widen. "Oh, no no no no—"

"MILA!" the high-pitched female voice continues yelling, even as every inch of Riki wants to yell right back, to tell her to be quiet lest they're found, but it's bound to attract more attention from any Legion which might be nearby. Besides, their blood is an easy enough trail for Sophia to find them, as gruesome as it is.

It doesn't take long for her to come across them, and she immediately steps back, golden eyes blown wide. "No," she whimpers. "Please, no..."

"Sophia," Riki rasps. "You don't need to see this."

The petite Heliodor girl glares at him furiously. "Bullshit!" she snaps. Ever a raging storm, that's Sophia, indeed. "We can—we can still take you back to base, help you heal—"

"Now that's bullshit on level with the white pigs' logic, Sophia," Mila stops her. "You know there's no saving us. Maybe if we had medical help..."

She lets the sentence trail off. The brutal honesty puts out Sophia's fire as quickly as it had flared up as she tracks her eyes from Mila's bleeding stump of a forearm, the shoulder injuries. The gash Riki now realizes comes from a piece of metal wedged deep in her stomach. Riki's chest, and his leg, which he really doesn't want to look at right now.

The Eighty-Six don't have medical staff. They have to make do with what little supplies they manage to scrounge up. The only 'valuable' Eighty-Six, in any sense of the word, are the mechanics and their only use is to maintain the Juggernauts.

The Eighty-Six's only purpose is to fight the Legion and die trying. Nothing else. If they get injured, then it's game over. From there, the only option is to die.

Being assimilated by the Legion is not an option most are willing to accept. Riki would just shoot himself here and now if he didn't think Mila would be left alone. He doesn't think she would able to do it with his body lying in plain view—just as he doesn't think he can do it if her body was before him, either.

Sophia lets out a sob, pressing her blood-covered hands to her hands. Riki doesn't want to know whose blood it is. "This is so unfair," she sobs. "I don't want to lose my three best friends all in the span of two days."

Riki wants to point out that at least she didn't have to watch Harua die, but she definitely heard his death screams. His cry of, "someone please help me!" right before he was taken. But he doesn't think that'll help.

"I'm sorry, Sophia," he tries, gentler than he's used to being. "I'm so sorry that it has to be this way. We don't want to leave you. We would never."

"We love you, girl," Mila inhales shakily. "We love you so much, you and Harua. But you should go. You don't need to see this. Nobody should."

"This world is so messed up," Sophia looks up. "It took my parents. It took my sisters. It took Harua. And now it's taking you, too."

Riki knows Harua himself had a bit of a thing for Sophia. The two of them were friends, but it was difficult to tell what their relationship was, exactly. More specifically, it was Harua who was more sure of how he felt, and Sophia who never gave a thought to the nature of their relationship.

Matchmakers who could've been in love.

"The world takes and takes, Sophia," Riki tells her. Oh, the pain is becoming unbearable now, the smell of blood only growing stronger and stronger. "It took my parents and sisters, too. Mila's parents. We're all a victim to it, and there's nothing else to do but soldier on through it."

He knows that so well. So many times have passed where he's had to tell himself just to stay afloat. Just to stay sane.

When he had watched Konon be assigned to a different squad and never heard of her again, Sola left behind in the camp before she would be inevitably forcibly enlisted too. Never knowing what happened to either of his sisters, or his parents, who he knows are long dead by now. He had almost wished to be back at the camp amidst the constant abuse, physical and verbal.

"I hate it," Sophia says, looking at them wide, wet eyes. "I don't want to keep losing."

"One day it'll end, one way or another," Riki says. "Please, leave. We don't have too much time left and I don't want you to see this, Sophia."

"Just—just please remember us at our best," Mila croaks out. "Remember that we loved you and Harua. That you were one of the best parts of our lives."

Sophia backs away slowly, swallowing hard. "What should I tell the captain...?"

"Tell him what you need to."

"Okay." Her golden hair and eyes glimmer in the sunset light. Harua would've wanted to witness this sight a thousand times, Riki thinks. He had always thought Sophia was a sunset kind of girl. "Goodbye...I love you. Both of you."

And then she's turning away and running, sobs wracking her frame as she goes. Riki aches to see her in so much pain, and it's worse when he sees the way Mila's closed her eyes, crying softly.

"I don't want to die," she confesses.

"Neither do I," Riki says. "But..."

"Yeah." Mila takes in a shaky breath. Levels her gun, and so Riki does, too. "I love you, you know. More than anyone else. You were my thin thread of sanity at times."

"You're everything to me," he admits softly. "I love you more than I can put into words."

"So then—" her grip tightens. Riki mirrors the action; it's like they're going to do everything together in their last moments. "Goodbye, love."

"Goodbye."

They pull the triggers. Mila's beautiful, beautiful smile is the last thing Riki sees before the bullets meets his forehead square in the center.

The best goodbye he could've wished for.

shinjū (心中), meaning "double suicide", used in common parlance to refer to any group suicide of two or more individuals bound by love, typically lovers, parents and children, and even whole families.

lovers committing double suicide believed that they would be united again in heaven, a view supported by feudal teaching in Japan, which taught that the bond between two lovers is continued into the next world, and by the teaching of wherein it is believed that through double suicide, one can approach rebirth in the Pure Land.

songs listened to while writing: - rock with you, seventeen - voices of the chord, sawano hiroyuki - my youth, nct dream

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your-stranger-halfblood-things · 1 year

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Uhhhhhhh guys so this came into my head, but like massive trigger warning for suicide

Do not read if you are struggling with mental health, please

But yes, this is about Byler :) (happy because I like writing sad shit)

---

Byler but they get into a fight that lasts years and when they finally talk things out, they don't kiss. No, they fight until they storm away from each other. And then Mike hates it so much, hates everything so much, so he wants to end it all. And he plans on it too.

Meanwhile, Will is biking to Mike's house to apologize but he's not there. And then he sees him. Biking towards the cliff. So Will follows him. By the time he catches up, Mike's bike is abandoned. Will chokes back a sob, but he knows what he has to do, he looks over the edge of the cliff. And there he is, Mike falling.

"Mike!"

And Will jumps to save him. He knows he won't survive, but he will at least be with Mike. Forever.

The last thing Mike sees is Will, falling ten feet above him, grabbing at him. "Will," he yells, but the wind in his ears block it out.

And everything goes black.

#sorry #but on a serious note #suicide is a very serious topic and if any of you guys are struggling with thoughts then please tell someone #this is a thought that came to me because we like byler angst #stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #angst #byler angst #tw suicide mention #tw suicude #double suicide #stay safe

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sapphroditte · 1 year

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jesus and judas. idk how to explain it but. reverse romeo and juliet

#anyone? anyone?#2k23 #doomed by the narrative #double suicide #anyone?

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shihlun · 2 years

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Kiyoshi Awazu

- Posters for Masahiro Shinoda's film “Double Suicide“

1969

#kiyoshi awazu #double suicide #masahiro shinoda #心中天網島 #粟津潔 #篠田正浩 #1969 #japanese film #poster #graphic design #film poster

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southmountainninja · 1 year

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‘Double Suicide’ (1969). Directed by Masahiro Shinoda.

#japanese cinema #chikamatsu #double suicide #masahiro shinoda #tragedy

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moonlightsapphic · 2 years

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Not me suddenly realizing after two whole years after watching the anime that Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju was an angsty love triangle between two (probably) bisexual men constantly pining for each other but instead alternatively settling for that one straight woman that they pretended to be obsessed with instead. Never has a trio of people needed therapy more than these three istg someone help them pls

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johannepetereric · 11 months

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HEROIC SACRIFICE B POWERS UP HEROIC SACRIFICE A TO POWER UP THE HERO!

#ep202 #katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #yuni khr #lightning gamma #Double suicide #Tw suicide

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suicide-with-dazai · 2 years

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Dazai Osamu-$uicid3 attempt #1

Things i must mention:

-dazaiosamu

-suicide

-suicide attempt

-blood

-gore imagery(no actual images ofc)

!TRIGGER WARNING-SUICIDE HEAVILY MENTIONED!

------------------

okay so smalllll intro.. this is gonna be a series i think! so try give some ideas for other parts. all different instances where dazai had been found, after a failed suicide attempt.

lets gooo......

-15th dec, 11:33-

chuuya was patrolling the hallways of the port mafia academy when he heard a small thud coming from one of the rooms of the sleeping quarters. it was odd; as most of the members would usually be asleep at this time. nevertheless, he went to investigate.

“huh? dazai?”

chuuya approaches dazais door, as thats where the noise came from-about. he knocked severl times, and said dazais name in a monotonous tone, like this had happened before.

“dazai? you sleepwalking or something? are you changing ? dazaaii?”

no reply. “listen, dumbass, if youre changing and i walk in on you were gonna have some serious problems.”

hesitantly, chuuya grasped the shining doorhandle and opened dazais door, “shit, who leaves their door open...?”

the dim lighting when chuuya entered wasnt all too welcoming, neither was the eerie breeze from the ajar window, or the spiderwebs in the corners or the pool of blood on the floor. wait... POOL OF BLOOD ON THE FLOOR???

“DAZAI? HEY??’’

chuuya sprinted to the heap which dazai was sprawled in, bandages surrounding him as if he just removed them, soaking in blood which was pouring from dazais wrist. chuuya couldnt think, at all, he went with instinct and tried to stop the blood from flowing from dazais delicate and exposed arms. chuuya wrapped his small, gloved hand around dazais wrist-by now chuuya was a crying mess and had sunk to his knees. with the help of chuuyas small hand, the blood had stopped flowing as harshly.

he sobbed violently as dazai was dear to him, although they acted like they hated eachother...thought of just slitting his own..but instead cleared his head and grabbed a walkie talkie from his pocket. he knew mori would answer, so he clicked the button and said in a cracked and broken hoarse voice,

“M-MORI...ITS-ITS DAZAI KUN, HES- NO! FUCK...JUST GET HERE NOW”

chuuya wasnt usually one to cry, but seeing his collegue- no...friend- no- brother..

seeing his brother barely grasping onto life, slowly fading as a result of his own doing..it just, broke him.

as if a manic episode had come upon him, chuuya screamed, a harsh, ear-rattling, blood-curdling, spine-splitting scream. his whole body shook as he felt dazais pulse is his still pouring wrist slowly cease.

mori, slow as he is nowadays, had just reached the door. he burst through and whistled for medics.

‘‘chuuya, listen to me. snap out of it.’‘

enraged at his bosses lack of pity, chuuya threw dazai over his shoulder and carried him to the infirmary himself. chuuya had an adrenaline rush at how much this hurt him to see. his heart felt cut and his lungs felt as if they had been filled with shards of glass. he reached the infirmary, two doors down, and dragged the tall man with him, the medics took dazai and immidiately shut up the cuts, the life still clinging on by the smallest,

most miniscule,

most unworthy,

yet strongest thread.

chuuyas head was spinning, he felt blind, he fealt deaf and lack of breath made him feel dizzy. he couldnt bare to see his almost brother like this.

‘please dazai please.’’ raced through his mind like a toy train on a circular track, constant, and repetetive, and goddamn loud. it was as if chuuyas brain was being controlled by some other being, or machine, stuck on one command.

a glimpse of life glinted like a small diamond within a rock.

“HES ALIVE” the medics used defibrillators to regain dazais consciousness.

chuuyas legs gave way, and he slumped in the far corner. ‘dazai come on..’

-time skip-

by now, dazai was surely, alive, but pale enough that if he wasnt breathing right now, youd believe he was a dead man. chuuya, absolutely shattered and torn, sat beside him, curled up in a ball on a chair, still crying. mori entered, and scolded chuuya for ‘acting like a baby’

“chuuya, youre in the mafia. have you gone dense ? are you stupid ? are you not worthy ? are you mentally challenged ? you cant let something so miniscule affec-”

“shut the fuck up mori” dazai managed to weaky groan. to this, mori felt shocked, defeated, so he backed out of the room.

“DAZAI” chuuya cried, he hated acting like a baby but dazai meant too much to him. chuuya got out of his chair to stand over dazai, who was in a hospital bed, recovering. “i- i thought you-”

“thank you chuuya, so fucking much”

-8th april 12:14-the next year-

some time had passed, chuuya was sitting in his own room, and youd think for such a serious man, who has a serious life and job, that these sort of things wouldnt affect them. but it did. it scarred them both, one, quite literally dazai had scars remaining. chuuya however, mental scars drew painful “X” marks on his brain and cut so deep it caused chuuya regular panic attacks.

at this time, chuuya sat on his bed staring out his window, shaking and quivvering, crying quietly. dazai was on patrol on this night as he was fully recovered, he heard crying coming from chuuyas room, which was unusual.

he walked closer and entered the cracked door. “chuuya ?” his eyes widened to see a crying chuuya sitting on his bed.

chuuya acknowledged dazai entering his room-but only cried harder.

“chuuya,” dazai sat next to chuuya on his bed and put an arm over his shoulder, “come on buddy”

chuuya opened his clouded eyes to see dazais bandaged hands coming towards him to wipe away his tears, and he let him do so, the soft material brushed against his skin giving him a comforted feeling.

“you dont need to explain, i know chuuya, i know. im sorry”

its still unclear why dazai did what he did on that night. lonely? bored? saw no worth? probably..

“I thought, “I want to die. I want to die more than ever before. There’s no chance now of a recovery. No matter what sort of thing I do, no matter what I do, it’s sure to be a failure““ -Osamu Dazai

i hope you enjoyed reading, i cried while writing this lmao ^^`

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