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snuggetfish · 3 years

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Okay but imagine Majimas spouse being fed up with all that yakuza shit since it’s affecting majima negatively, so s/o suggests that they should fake their death and move to another country and live their best life?

Hmmm I think this would pose quite the dilemma for Majima, depending on which time in his life it happens.

In the years leading up to 2006, when he’s still making a name for himself in the yakuza, constantly under the looming shadow of his boss and mentally in a bad place... well, I think that’s actually the time he’s most likely to consider it. He’s living day by day powered only by inertia, obediently playing the pawn in Shimano’s “long game” of one day seizing power in the Tojo. But when will that day come? And will it even change things for Majima? He’ll still be a leashed dog...

But while I believe he'd fantasise about faking his death and escaping from it all, at this point there’s still too much guilt, mainly around Saejima. Majima worked his ass off to get back into the clan and powered through all the shit thrown his way in the hopes of one day facing Saejima with a strong family by his side... if he gave up now, his name would be struck from the record and he’d have to live with the disappointment of not fulfilling the goal he and his kyodai set when they were young: getting to the top.

It hurts like hell, to have to choose between your beloved and your life’s work that you’re more or less chained to... so maybe his partner should leave it as a suggestion, not an ultimatum. Because they’re not going to like Majima’s answer otherwise.

For sure there’s a bit of sunk cost fallacy at play here as well. The more years pass, the more Majima’s likely to think “I can’t leave now.” Still, around Y2 he becomes disillusioned with Tojo leadership and even though his family grows bigger day by day, he starts to realize he doesn’t have to officially be yakuza to offer them a “home”.

It would still take a while to convince him at this point, but with Shimano gone, Kiryu-chan settling down with his own quiet life and Daigo not yet in the picture, Majima finally starts taking the idea seriously. In Nishida he’s got a dependable successor for the position of Majima Construction’s CEO and I’m certain he’s already got a will of sorts, with instructions on how to incorporate all the boys who still want to be yakuza into an eventual Saejima family. When... if it happens. There will always be some guilt, knowing that although he’s “died”, he still hasn’t properly atoned for his Ueno hit absence, but he keeps it at the back of his mind. One day he’ll return and get what’s coming to him, for sure...

Finally, if we’re talking about Majima from Y4 and beyond, Saejima becomes a much more real obstacle standing in the way of a “clean” escape. On the one hand, he of course doesn’t want to let go of his brother now that he’s back, but on the other hand he also gets exposed to Saejima philosophy: it’s never too late to start over. Faking his death and disappearing can be his way of “retiring” from yakuza life to begin a new chapter... but, you bet Majima would beg the big tiger to come with. Well, maybe beg is a strong word. He’d mope around trying to come up with arguments and scenarios where they could still work together even under new identities, but Saejima would be having none of that. He’s got a few more years in prison to get through first...

If Majima does decide to make this step, he’s gonna have to first come to terms with the fact that 25 years have turned both kyodais into very different people, whose life paths are maybe inevitably set to diverge... And it’ll be hard.

So I touched on a lot of stuff here but in short I guess the answer is: it’s a hell of a difficult decision. There will always be business left unfinished, people left behind... as impulsive as Majima normally is, this is a situation that he’s gonna have to spend a lot of time contemplating.

And his partner? He’s touched by their concern and even surprised at the lengths they’re willing to go through for his sake, throwing away the life they’ve built for themselves for the promise of a happier one by his side. For sure he’s daydreamed about it too - lying in their garden, fanned by the gentle breeze and the smell of orange trees, watching their kids grow up happy and healthy, in a place far, far away from any yakuza dealings...

It’s worth thinking also about where Majima would like to go. Tropical places aren’t really his thing, the sun doesn’t play well with his pale complexion and especially not with his pride and joy: his tattoo. Although speaking of that, he’s both looking forward to people not judging him harshly for his ink any more and also a little miffed that they wouldn’t appreciate its symbolism as much either...

Still, he’d probably move somewhere where the climate is as temperate as Japan’s, maybe to a smaller city that still retains a bit of the cosmopolitan feel he’s used to, but is a lot calmer than Kamurocho.

What about a fully rural life? I think it might get a little too boring for Majima... but listen on one of my Discord servers people once discussed the likelihood he grew up on a farm, given he talks about horse riding with the Y0 hostesses as if he’s actually done it... 👀 So... maaaaybe he could get accustomed to it again, once he enters his twilight years.

Oof this ended up longer than expected, but I guess I had a lot to say! Hope this gives some food for thought! It definitely did for me 💙

#anon asks #snugasks #majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader

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randomidiocyncrazies · 3 years

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i know you like them both so yunichika and oda/aoki for the ship ask

thank you for giving me a chance to gush about these kids!!! they’re precious.... this got pretty long so imma put it under a cut

YuniChika, the main boys of 2.43:

• when or if I started shipping it:

tbh i didn’t really ship them when i read the first book... they’re the kind of pairing that i can see people shipping and i think it’s cute, but i’m not super invested in them as a romantic pairing. I think i was more sold about them as a ship in the second book, but i can’t quite remember if there was a specific moment that made me change my mind, or if it was a gradual process

• my thoughts:

i think the anime definitely played up the tension between them (allll the blushes lol), but i’m glad people are enjoying the YuniChika content XD they’re pretty cute!

also, i think they balance each other well and spur each other to become better—Yuni and Chika are both self-centered(?) in very different ways: Yuni lacks drive because he mostly wanted to please people so they’ll like him, while Chika has the opposite problem in that he acts like he doesn’t care what people think of him.

but now Yuni is able to take a stand for his interest in volleyball and for Chika, and while Chika doesn’t really soften and still has a problem with not realizing how harsh he could be, he’s more willing to communicate his thoughts.

• what makes me happy about them:

boys reuniting! relearning how to have a relationship with one another! learning from past mistakes and trying to be better people together! HELL YEAH

• what makes me sad about them:

boys, please use your words to communicate with each other...

also, from Yuni’s perspective, it’s kinda sad when someone you used to know really well comes back into your life, but they’ve changed so much that they are essentially a different person... but of course they have a new opportunity to become closer now 😉 so i’m not that sad about it

• things done in art/fic that annoys me:

... there are fanworks for them?????????

(on a more serious note, erasing their flaws to make them more likable... please don’t make Chika ‘secretly nice’ or whatever, the kid is blunt as hell, and not realizing how his words affect others is his biggest flaw. on the other hand, Yuni can still be a little spineless at times, and sometimes his priorities are. questionable.)

• things I look for in art/fic:

hm, i’d like a future fic about them as professional players! i think their inclination is to stick together (they’re a package deal!) but it’d be super interesting to read something where they’re on rival teams years down the line

EDIT: haha Chika actually transferred to Keisei High School after their first Spring Tournament, so he and Yuni have faced each other as rivals since then (2.43 next 4years). they’re go to the same university and are on the same team now though!

• who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

uh i don’t really have specific people for this, but Chika would probably have to be with someone who understands his love of volleyball (like Oda, but if Oda wasn’t their team captain and thus too much of a dad friend to qualify as a romantic interest), and someone who can inspire Yuni would be good for him

also, i know who i’d NOT be comfy about: the first book (and anime i guess) had this weird tension between Itoko and Yuni, COUSINS who BASICALLY GREW UP TOGETHER. i think(?) their weird whatever was mostly dropped in the 2nd book and wasn’t really made explicit, but like. what the hell. (i have no idea what happens beyond the 2nd book.)

• my happily ever after for them:

the YuniChika in college arc is being serialized rn, so in a way that’s already fulfilled? (i have NO idea what’s going on tho)

in general i just hope they can play volleyball together until one or both decide not to, for whatever reason, and that they stay in each other’s lives and support each other even after they’ve retired from competitive volleyball. i think with Yuni’s personality he could be a good coach after getting more experience, and Chika... he’s really valuable as a strategist, but I think he’d always be a little brusque, so he’s respected but hard to bond with if he does take on coaching?

• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?

bold of you to assume Chika even cares about sex

anyway, they don’t go to movies for a romantic date night, they go watch volleyball matches. sometimes this backfires when Chika gets too frustrated at bad plays tho

and of course i will never pass up an opportunity to talk about Oda/Aoki, the main guys of my heart (my OTP for this series tbh):

• when or if I started shipping it:

they pinged on my radar when they were bickering in Ibara’s chapter, but i wasn’t super duper invested... and then I got to The Dog’s Perspective and the Giraffe’s Perspective (specifically The Kick™) and oh god i’ve never fallen so fast

• my thoughts:

GOD WOW Aoki really loves Oda... even though objectively Oda’s height prevents him from being a super ace, he is the coolest, strongest super ace to Aoki. i think it’s beautiful that someone can see you as your best self even when you’re feeling shitty about yourself. Aoki knows that objectively Oda faces a lot of obstacles, and wants to support him as best as he can—not out of pity (pity would’ve burned out long ago), but because he really respects Oda’s passion and drive.

also, these two have unaddressed issues that they should talk about! Oda, i know you feel inferior but you are so much better than you think you are. please accept that Aoki really does respect you, and that you are worthy of it (or like, you don’t have to be ‘’’worthy’’’’ or ‘’’’’’deserving’’’’’’’’’’ of it, because it is Aoki’s choice to support you and play volleyball with you!!! it’s not something you gotta earn, it’s something freely and happily given to you)

(ahhhhhh i die when i think of them)

• what makes me happy about them:

gosh i love their dynamic SO MUCH! Oda is exactly my type of character (passionate, determined, knowing that he can never be the best at what he’s passionate about due to factors he cannot control, trying to be kind and gracious but struggling with feelings of inferiority and jealousy, thinks of himself as a selfish person, a supporting character...) and Aoki’s devotion is really touching.

again: even when you feel like crap about yourself, there’s someone out there who thinks you’re the best thing that happened to them.

there’s also the fact that Oda thinks the world of Aoki as well (to the point of feeling inferior, which is like... c’mon Oda :/ you are better than you think you are!) he trusts Aoki a lot, despite knowing his willingness to engage in, uh, underhanded methods

• what makes me sad about them:

it’s their last year together, and they’d be approaching a new phase of their lives in different places... although Aoki offered to lower his rankings so they’d go to the same university, realistically they’ll go to different colleges, and most likely end up in different prefectures. (like, not only do i think it’s a Terrible Idea to give up your dream school so that you could stay with someone else, there is no way Oda would accept the offer without being crushed by guilt. something like that would actually ruin their relationship, which i think Aoki knows as well.)

there’s also a lot left unsaid between them at this point and i just want them to lay everything out between them and move forward together

• things done in art/fic that annoys me:

the fact that there’s NONE >:[ what does a gal have to do to get some content for them???????

• things I look for in art/fic:

at this point anything is fine.... it’s a desert out there and i’m dying

more specifically i’m Extremely Down for a get together fic; i personally only see them getting together after high school, at least several months (or even longer) studying in different prefectures and no longer able to see each other every day. (i mean... absence makes the heart grow fonder right?)

i’d also love to see Oda using Aoki’s first name, considering Aoki calls him “Shin” and all. Oda managing to surprise/fluster Aoki would be nice too.

EDIT: they’re both in the Kansai region (2.43 next 4years prologue). Oda’s revealed to be studying in Osaka, and assuming Aoki got into KyoDai, they should be around 2 hours away from each other by train? so visiting each other over short breaks would be cute! also, apparently Oda took a gap year before going to Osaka (2.43 next 4years Ch 1.2), so something set during that time would also be awesome :V

• who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

hm... if i had to imagine people well-suited to them, i’d say Aoki’s type is people who are straightforwardly passionate about their interests (Oda hooked him with his unbridled love of volleyball way back in their first year of high school after all), and I think Oda probably needs someone who is willing to indulge him a little (like Chika he can be pretty dang determined about what he wants, though without the single-minded intensity at the expense of everything else)

... this is just a roundabout way of saying i think they’re ideal for each other, especially if they resolve the problem of hiding things from the other

• my happily ever after for them:

they get careers/hobbies they enjoy, and get a place together as boyfriends/husbands. no i will not hear any criticism of this idea

i can see Aoki working in the private sector (this guy is fine with ‘joking’ about blackmail after all!) after getting his law degree. this is super self-indulgent, but given his penchant of rooting for passionate but objectively disadvantaged entities, i think it’d be pretty awesome if he works for a smaller company that truly believes in their work, instead of working at a big firm pulling in big bucks.

while I’m not sure what Oda is canonically studying, I can see him going into sports education or sports therapy—i think he’d be really good at nurturing the talents of other athletes, and he’s good at rallying the team (Aoki pretty much says he’s the heart of the team in the epilogue of the first book, though Aoki’s kiiinda biased lol). i think it’d be really cute if Oda coaches a grade school team!

neither plays volleyball competitively after high school, but sometimes they watch matches for fun (esp if their ex-teammates are playing). Oda also makes Aoki come to his students’ matches if he doesn’t have work

EDIT: apparently Oda continues competing as a wing spiker in college, playing in Kaisai’s 2nd Collegiate Division (2.43 next 4years Ch 1.2)—Aoki probably watches his matches, even when he’s busy (and Oda probably chides him for neglecting his work, but they both know Aoki can manage his workload).

• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?

hm... idk, i think they’re the kind of couple who are cool with just chilling with each other doing their own work. like, Oda planning strategies for the kids he’s coaching while Aoki reads next to him, occasionally glancing over to make comments, stuff like that

also since Oda says they mostly talked about volleyball during high school, I can kinda see them finding something new they both enjoy after they get together? Maybe shounen manga, for something fun

#2.43 #2.43 anime #2.43 seiin high school boys volleyball team #2.43 seiin koukou danshi volley bu #yunichika #odaoki #replies

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bloodvvit · 4 years

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[Wanted to write a little ‘slice of life’ look into how Kai was raised once the Boss took him on, as he was mostly looked after by a higher ranking kyodai named Izo. Kai idolizes the boss, but also takes a shine to Izo, seeing him as kind of a older brother/mentor figure.]

Kai’s long eyelashes fluttered against the high angle of his cheekbone as he roused, having not realized he’d dozed off while lounging at the foot of Izo’s mattress. Curled up with his knees to his chest and his skinny arms tangled around a pillow, the fifteen year old squinted against the light unhappily. With a slow stretch in place, he pushed himself to a sitting position and got smacked in the face with a discarded shirt.

“You’re still getting dressed?” the youth accused in an irritated tone. Huffing softly, the young yakuza heir jerked the colorful fabric from around his skull. Rather than throw it back at the preening, indecisive gangster pacing before his closet mirror, Kai expertly flapped the article of clothing out by the shoulder seams and carefully laid it down atop the length of the bed to join the rest of the kyodai’s wardrobe.

“We’re never going leave if you’re taking this long… Why does it matter, anyway? Is it a big meeting between the Bosses?” he asked, sounding miles more interested, if that was the case- rather than watch the man mull over more suits.

Izo held one shirt, then another over his chest as he inspected his reflection in his newly bought and installed full length mirror. Both looked equally good on his skinny frame. That was the one good thing about being built like a tall lamp post — it was easy finding clothing. Nearly anything he bought looked good when it was hanging off his bony shoulders.

“Nah, go back to sleep. I’ve got a hot date tonight,” Izo said as he turned sideways and tried yet another shirt. “Well, not really. I got a meet and greet with some of the guys at a hostess club. I might as well try not to look too shabby.”

The juvenile yakuza frowned even more at this revelation. And here, he’d been hoping for a fun and exciting evening out, not being abandoned at headquarters, when he could have been spending more time leaning how their business worked.

“And you’re wasting time on an outfit? You usually bring me along…” Kai frowned and narrowed his eyes, following the vivid lines of elaborate inkwork decorating Izo’s back, shoulders, and arms in a curious fashion. He’d seen them before, it wasn’t like his partner didn’t leap at the chance to show them off.

“Hey, aniki… Your tattoos. The last time I asked, you said they have certain meanings. Can you tell me more about them now?” he asked in a hopeful, but careful tone of voice. “We’ve been partners for the past three years, almost.”

Heh. Precocious boy slinging emotional words like ‘partners’ around. His devotion to hustling was adorable. Izo knew better, but the sweet way the brat went about saying it was like drinking down warm honey. It was a pleasant kind of warmth.

“The outfit’s like a storefront window, it’s for convincing,” Izo said as he looked over his shoulder at Chisaki’s ward. He wasn’t looking so sleepy now, and his intense stare made Izo lift an arm to check out the black lines snaking about his rib cage. The ink work wasn’t done yet, just a series of outlines scattered about his shoulders and back. The goal was to eventually get a whole shirt done, but until that happened, Izo was content to only brave the parlors sporadically It depended when his mood and tolerance for pain was highest.

“They mean a buncha stuff,” Izo hedged, “Sorta slogans like ‘I’m good at this sorta shit’, ‘I believe in that’. Some of it is because ‘a guy I respect has something like it’. Water’s obvious, you already know that one.” After a pause, Izo draped his shirt over the back of his chair. “They’re pretty nice, right?”

“I didn’t think there’d be so many… flowers,” Kai pointed out, unable to mask the wrinkling of his upturned nose at the thought. Eyelids lowering to half-mast, he quite visibly began mulling something over in his mind.

“I was wondering if the Boss was thinking I might have earned the right to get one yet. You think maybe that might happen sooner or later?”

Izo twisted to look incredulously at the boy on his bed. “What’s wrong with flowers? The’re perfectly manly. Ain’t like they’re roses or nothing. They’re not on my back because they’re romantic.”

They were there proclaiming his sense of duty, his loyalty and clear mind. They spoke of death and single-minded purpose. His skin was there for important stories and words. He’d sooner cut himself than get something like his girl’s name.

“They’re there for the things I don’t wanna say out loud. Anyone that knows about what ink means will know what they’re sayin’. As for you gettin’ yours…”

Izo eyed Kai critically. Was he actually serious? He was already that enthusiastic about being a made man? Izo chuckled, “You’re a bit big for your britches already. Nah, it’ll be later. Boss don’t have much truck on taking kiddies on. You’ve got a few more years to go.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just- The last meeting you took me to was the first time I’d even seen the Boss’ ink before and those were… you know, dragons,” Kai explained matter-of-factly. The last thing he wanted was Izo thinking he didn’t understand or respect the meaning behind the imagery.

The teen folded his lean arms beneath his chin, both sharp elbows jutting over the edge at the foot of the mattress. “I was just thinking if I’m gonna stay on, then I should start thinking about it now. Or learning what that stuff all means, like you. I’m not stupid, you know… Wasn’t like I wanted to get something just to flash it at the nearest person on the street.”

Kai rested his chin on his crossed arms and sighed loudly. “Even if the Boss thought I was ready, I guess I just want know what he’d pick. It wouldn’t mean the same thing if it were up to me, right…? That’d be no different than if any civvie waltzed into a parlor and got something done for bragging rights- they don’t earn that like we do,” Kai reflected, often failing to censor his own thoughts due to his familiarity with the gangster he worked with, or simply due to his age.

Izo turned around, folding his arms over his chest as he looked Kai over. Eyes still too big for his head, despite the roundness of his cheeks. Skinny, gawky limbs that were only going to get even gawkier once he started growing — which hadn’t happened yet (and likely wouldn’t any time soon, if he didn’t start eating more.) Izo hadn’t been much older when he’d started getting seriously in over his head, doing significantly more involved things than running messages. That’d been his own damn fault, though. He’d had too big a mouth, had been too smart for his own good and run in ahead right into things he should have steered clear of, if he’d only known better.

Kai had a good little schtick going. He liked to talk big, even going so far as to act like he was already willing to go whole hog into the sorta life Izo was leading. It was a pretty good life, Izo thought, it had its perks, he got pocket money. But talking big and going so far as to get an ill-advised tattoo while sober, well… those were two entirely different things.

Izo crossed his arms over his chest as he hunched over the bed, brows drawing together. “The boss doesn’t pick it. You do. Like I said, they tell a story and it’s the kinda stuff you wanna say but don’t have real good words for it, because saying it would be lame. Get it?”

Izo turned to the side and twisted, pulling his arms up to show a spot on his rib cage where the outline of a crane was placed. It had yet to be colored in.

“See this? Got this because of a guy I knew — real swell guy. He’s old now, so he’s sick and dying. Helped me out of some tight spots and I owe him. He always had a thing for those weird-ass birds, so I’m getting this put on there as a thank you. Hopefully it’ll get done and I can show it to him before he kicks the bucket.”

“It’s up to you what you wanna say. Most guys just stick with stuff like, ‘I’m strong and I can tear people’s heads off with my damn teeth like a pregnant bear.’ The boss’s dragon means he’s like the emperor. Getting the ink means you’re a made man, but you don’t wanna get a mark someone picks for you either because it makes you theirs. You pick it because it’s what you wanna say. Got it?” Izo hesitated, then added, “There’s some that do that — let someone put their mark on them. I hear some families are into that too, like branding farm animals. If anyone says they wanna do that with you, you tell ‘em no, kick ‘em real good and come and tell me.”

Kai was far too young for those sorts of relationships and if anyone offered, that meant they were real creeps. Izo would cut bits off them in private somewhere.

The kid pushed his hands against the bed to get a better look, glancing from the silhouette of the bird coming to life on Izo’s darker skin, then back to the elder man’s face as he spoke. Kai had assumed the messages intended to be expressed through the tattoos were qualities others had to see and ‘confirm’ before making them yakuza language fact. To everyone else, he was just like any other middle school student in Tokyo. Now that he was officially partnered with a made man like his 'brother’, he felt… important. Not the way the Boss was important, but needed- Useful, like a part of the machine that was efficiently performing it’s role. In a strange way, Kai felt getting inked might confirm that- solidify his place within their ranks and as the heir to the Boss’ legacy.

“Yeah. I understand now,” he answered confidently, nodding once in affirmation. His gaze followed the swooping 'brushstroke’ of the bird’s neck as it melded to it’s back and folded wings curiously, frowning in silence as one of the notches of Izo’s ribs expanded with his breathing. “Does it hurt a lot? Especially places like these?” he asked, pointing at the thin layer of skin and muscle barely masking the bony landmark.

Izo shrugged, always a bit surprised how into medical stuff the kid was. He didn’t recall ever being like that at the same age. “Well, it always hurts when there’s not a lotta meat. I don’t have much all over, though. It’s not too bad.”

Actually, it hurt like a bitch and Izo had let everyone up and down the street know he was getting his ink done just by all his screaming. But Kai’s wide-eyed look was laying it on a bit thick, wasn’t he? Izo had to give him props for consistency, though. The teen never let up with his schtick and he had to admit in his crusty, old-young heart that there were times he was quite warmed by it. Izo reached out to press down hard on Kai’s head, sending him tumbling. When he was down, Izo dug his knuckles into the teenager’s scalp for good measure. Straightening, he grunted, “What’s this about you wanting ink anyway? Why all a sudden?”

“Hey! Come on- Stop,” the kid half-laughed, half-ordered, trying to dodge the elder man’s hands until he’d lost his balance and tumbled from the bed. He rolled from the foot of the mattress and landed in a soft pile of discarded suits Izo had thrown, unceremoniously, to the floor- vibrantly dyed and patterned silks and sharkskin cushioning Kai’s coltish knees as he fended off more brotherly harassment. The question made him pause and look back up the rail-thin length of Izo’s slouching frame, blinking once as he stared back at that narrow-eyed, searching gaze reading his own expression and body language.

“Like I said. It’s been three years. I just thought, maybe… then we’d be blood brothers. You know, officially. That’s all,” he said, brushing Izo off and leaning back against the foot of the bed. He straightened his hair back out with a few brisk tugs of his thin fingers, tilting his chin up as though challenging the man to say otherwise.

Izo tsks, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth as his movements still and he stares down at Kai staring up at him with that far too serious glare.

The brat. How was he going to say no to a request like that?

“Ah, you really know what to say, eh? Thought a lot about it, did you?” Scripted or not, he was good. Izo was melting a little despite himself. He grabbed Kai’s head, looping an arm around his neck and squeezing as he roughly ground his knuckles in with a renewed vengeance. “Think you’re such a big man, EH?”

When he eventually released the boy, letting him drop to the hard floor like he was dropping a sack of rice. He turned back toward the mirror and dragged his fingers through his hair to work out some of the new tangles. Izo made a face and gave up on wearing it down. Finding a tie, he gripped it between his teeth and pulled his hair back away from his face to reveal sharp features that looked too narrow, too fox-like for even his own tastes.

“Alright, since you say it so nicely, kid,” he muttered around the tie, “You can get what you want. But if it’s stupid looking, it’s on you. Remember that.”

#♛ WRITING #♛ META

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doramaticbites · 7 years

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10 Representative Jdramas of the 2010s (so far)

This post is inspired by, or rather, is a reply to this excellent question posted by an anon to @jdramaconfessions. I meant to reblog the post with a reply but then this post got MASSIVE so I decided to just make a new one.

Of course, the best answer to that question of what are the representative dramas of this current decade can only be written in about 2025, when there is enough time to look back and take stock of what dramas actually stood the test of time. As it is, there are still 3.5 years left to the decade – and if 2013 and 2016 was any indication, one fairly good year could give us a couple of hits. That being said, I’m going to try.

I think the best place to start, when trying to curate a list of representative dramas is first to ask – how exactly does one define representative and what are these dramas supposed to be representative of?

The word ‘representative’ is tricky to me because it implies something different than ‘favourite’. When asked for a list of ‘favourite’ dramas, it’s definitely personal, and there’s no need to try to choose something objectively. But the word ‘representative’ implies that there has to be some sense of objectivity to one’s choice, even though I agree with the admin of jdramaconfessions that at the end of the day, personal preference still comes into play.

I define representative in three ways.

Firstly, by memorability. We are still living this decade out, so it’s hard to say which dramas will stand the test of time in the next decade or so. Still, I’m sure that there are a number of dramas from the early 2010s that cling on to our minds and are still referred to often.

Secondly, by popularity. I don’t mean to say that every popular show that has come out in the past decade is automatically memorable or representative drama. In fact, quite the contrary. Every season will inevitably have its own popular drama. But there are a number of dramas that have exploded in popularity and I feel that it is then valid to give them a spot on the list. After all, to an extent, popularity indicates a show’s ability to resonate with a wide audience. I will also try to choose dramas that are popular both domestically and internationally. Making popularity a criteria is also why I sadly exclude excellent dramas like the Oguri-led BORDER and gothic drama Karamazov no Kyodai – both were insanely memorable and unique to me, but perhaps not commercially popular enough to make them ‘representative’.

Thirdly, by innovation. This is also a way to address the question of ‘What exactly are these choices supposed to be representative of’? Jdrama is a big umbrella of many sub-genres. A representative drama of one sub-genre (say romance) may not always be representative of the entire group. Though to be sure, there are times when they overlap. So what I mean by ‘innovation’ is any given drama’s ability to give fresh life to their genres, and bring something new to the table. It’s a drama’s ability to be either be excellent within the constraints of its genre, or conversely, its ability to push the boundaries of the genre.

With that being said, I’ve got chosen a couple of dramas I think fit the bill – In no particular order after the cut!

1) Hanzawa Naoki

I’m putting this one first because @midnightrain910 brought it up. Yes. Personally I didn’t think Hanzawa Naoki was THAT great, but boy was it adored by repressed salarymen all over Japan. I literally had 2 of my (Japanese) managers come up to me to ask me if I’d watched it – on separate occasions! I mean shame on any 2013 Japan enthusiast who didn’t know the “bai-gaeshi” catchphrase. It also cemented Masato Sakai’s reputation as a credible and commercially viable actor.

2) JIN 2

I thought JIN 2 was inferior to the first season, but I included it anyway because I wanted to somehow squeeze JIN into this list. JIN is the historical, time-travel, medical drama OF DREAMS. It was so well-acted and so unexpectedly good. Just last year my Turkish colleague was raving about it to me. In that sense, I think it is an internationally accessible jidaigeki with a lot of heart.

3) Strawberry Night

Ok so, if you were to compare Strawberry Night with the MANY other Japanese crime/detective dramas, you wouldn’t find it definitive or groundbreaking. But still, it was GOOD. Sure I may be biased, but look, it lasted 2 SPs, 1 full season and 1 movie. If that’s not a testament of its popularity I don’t know what is. It managed to weave a bit of romance into it too. Also I think this is the series that threw Nishijima Hidetoshi into the limelight. He’s been around for ages, but I don’t think he had done anything since Asunaro Hakusho that was really popular until Strawberry Night.

4) Juhan Shuttai!

Juhan Shuttai! never set out to be critically acclaimed or sold itself like it was a precious gem filled with top actors. Nah, it set out to be a feel-good show but boy was it that and MORE. It just goes to show that great characterisation and a solid plot will bring a show far. That’s not to say that the actors weren’t good. A few of them were excellent, some of them were serviceable. I just wanted to point out that unlike some shows (cough Triangle, cough Rich Man Poor Woman, cough MOZU), they didn’t overpromise and underdeliver. Also, oftentimes well-written dramas happen to be so serious. I would really love to see more in the vein of Juhan Shuttai! (And Legal High, if I might add).

5) Quartet (2017) - Not to be confused with the other jdrama of the same name

Putting this in despite not having watched it because all the reviewers that I trust to give an honest opinion found that it lived up to its hype. THANK GOOD HEAVENS. After giving the couple of examples above of how a good cast doth not a good drama make, I’m glad that Quartet can now live on as the drama which BROUGHT IT. Also I wasn’t about to make this list without Mitsushima Hikari (If Quartet hadn’t made it I would have put in Woman). She’s one of most excellent actresses to have surfaced this decade. It’s so odd because I remember her from Folder5 days – and who would’ve known she’d be here today.

6) Marks no Yama

To me this must have been the drama that put WOWOW on the map. It was that drama that made everyone sit up and realise that WOWOW wasn’t just a second-rate channel airing foreign shows. It had a good strategy going – a very strong understanding of its niche, and the willingness to ignore popular models and idols and go for gritty, well-written fare instead. Because I’m ultimately quite a frivolous drama fan, I must have to say most of WOWOW posters (and shows) don’t really attract me, but the couple that I have watched have wow-ed me (pardon the pun).

7) Itazura na Kiss ~ Love in Tokyo

Ok it was a toss up between Good Morning Call and this one, neither of which I watched by the way. Well I did attempt one episode of GMC but I just….couldn’t. The truth is, now that I teach Japanese high-schoolers, it’s very hard for me to watch dramas with them in it. Though in a sense I’ve outgrown the genre, it’s more of a ‘this hits too close to home’ thing. That being said, high school dramas are a staple of drama world and it’d be weird not to include at least one. So I just went with which one I heard about the most.

Admittedly, the early to mid 2000s were a heyday for high school dramas to me. I’m hard-pressed to find a Stand Up! or Nobuta wo Produce among the current lot of dramas. They just don’t make them like they did anymore. That’s not to say it has been bad. I thoroughly enjoyed Narimiya Hiroki and Niigaki Risa trying their darndest to act like teens in Yankee Kun to Megane Chan. I was impressed that Piece managed to build itself into a dark mystery cum social commentary despite having pretty weak actors. I heard Sprout was cute. THAT SAID, none of them could be considered representative in my book.

As such, Itazura na Kiss stands out for being one rare remake that actually became as popular as its predecessor – and which was one teen drama to capture the hearts of international tumblrites.

8) Saikou no Rikon

Not only was this the show that introduced me to the genius that is Ono Machiko, it was the drama that turned the romance drama genre on its head. Its dialogue was witty, it was unapologetically real. And I think it made more writers sit up and realise that it’s the 2010s and they should really be challenging romcom stereotypes, not mindlessly rehashing them again and again.

9) We Got Married as a Job

@repinipi brought this up and yes, HOLY SMOKES this was THE romcom of 2016. It took Japan by storm. Till now theme song Koi is still on the top 10 of karaoke charts. My kids went wild when we teachers danced it at grad party. People still talk about the drama and Hoshino Gen is capitalising on it. Solidly written, it managed to be realistic, though the circumstances were obviously way to fictional to happen in real life. In 2020, I think this drama will still be looked upon fondly.

10) HiGH & LOW

I thought about this. I thought about this long and hard because, should H&L even be considered on the same plane as other dramas? At its core, it’s more of a promotional vehicle. But it just threw the delinquent/gang genre and shook it up into it’s own visually brilliant spectacle. It will probably never find its place among mainstream audiences in Japan. But it has grown its own dedicated fan base. If anything I’d compare it to Tokusatsu and Takarazuka fandoms. They are niche, but there are there, they are proud, and they are ready to throw some bills. LDH took J&A’s ambition and promotional ideas, then stepped it up a couple of notches. If anything, the business savvy of this company puts the entire series on this list.

Final Thoughts

I am just one person who simply hasn’t had much time to watch as much jdrama as I’d like. So its inevitable that I would have missed some out. Also, to make the arbitrary number of 10, I was unable to put some other picks on (trust me I would put either SPEC, Yae no Sakura, or Sanada Maru in in a heartbeat). Well, it wouldn’t be representative if too many made the list eh? Lastly, please remember, objective as I try to be, feel free to agree or disagree. Let me know your picks! :)

#jdrama #jdramas #hanzawa naoki #saikou no rikon #juhan shuttai #quartet #we got married as a job #Nigeru wa Haji da ga Yaku ni Tatsu #high&low #jin #marks no yama #strawberry night #itazura na kiss love in tokyo

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watermonkey0 · 7 years

Text

The Ramen Princess: Scroll One

The Girl and The Bar

"Crap," I breathed, shoving my hands deeper into the sand, fingers digging frantically. "The book said it would be just below the surface…"

The midday sun was beating down on my back from the open skylight and sweat beaded my brow. Blood dripped onto the thirsty earth, my knees skidded and chaffing from the gritty sand beneath.

When my fingers finally glanced over something prickly, I sighed in relief. "Found it!"

"Why would someone break into the herb canyon?" Temari asked, annoyed. Somehow, she had acquired an elusive grain of sand in her sandal and it was stabbing her foot with a vengeance—but even that wasn't worse than this stupid mission.

"The real question is: how are they stupid enough to trip the chakra wires? Nobody ever comes out here," Kankurou responded, not caring in the least.

Gaara didn't say anything...per the usual. Since his birth, Gaara didn't do much of anything...except kill and breathe. His existence was so singular that when Temari was bold, she considered him retarded for how simple-minded he was. Kill. Breathe. Kill. Breathe. Staaaaaaaaare.

She glanced back at him for a moment as they trudged through the desert and shuddered.

Up ahead was the Herb Canyon, used for growing healing herbs for medicinal purposes. The few medic-nin Suna had hailed it as their sanctuary. Temari vaguely recalled Baki telling them why the herbs were grown in this specific canyon, but she hadn't really been paying attention.

None of that idle stuff mattered to her. She was trained to have all the pertinent facts and see all the moves, but that didn't involve storing useless information such as which herbs made your boo boos feel better. Her brain space was better spent mastering her new summon.

"Isn't it supposed to be guarded?" Kankurou pointed out as they got closer.

Temari nodded, eyes scanning the area for any signs of enemies.

As a hailed sanctuary, the medic-nin required someone to stand watch day and night, although it seemed pretty pointless to her.

Who was going to raid the herb canyon anyway? What nation would brave her desert for some cactus blossoms?

It was just another useless thing she had deleted from her memory.

But the lack of guard did pose a problem. Were they walking into some kind of hostile situation, or had he just gone off on his own to sleep away the noon heat?

I impatiently pulled up the spiny root, cutting my palms in the process, though I barely noticed the pain. It wasn't the worst I'd had.

I glanced back at the scroll with the instructions, just to make sure I wasn't missing anything. My stomach churned at the sight of bloody fingerprints marring some of the words of the text, when my ears picked up voices from the entrance.

"Oh no!" I scrambled to my feet.

It wasn't like there was anywhere for me to hide in here. The canyon was just a round outcropping in a large sandstone hill. The walls were all smooth and round, with one way in...and one way out.

Only one option then, I thought grimly. I have to make a run for the entrance.

I jumped to my feet, scooping up the scroll and roots, but before I could even try to move, a yell stopped me in my tracks.

"Hey!" Temari yelled as she and her brothers shadowed the entrance.

She saw the intruder hovering along the back row of crops and spun wildly, looking for an escape. She couldn't have been any older than Temari, and the look on her face was complete terror. Brown hair, tan skin, old clothes, shinobi sandals, scarred left arm…Expertly, Temari took in the details, making her evaluation.

No threat.

"What are you—" Kankurou started to shout, only to be cut off by Temari.

"Shut up," she snapped, grinding her teeth in displeasure. She was team captain on this assignment, and he was to follow her lead.

The final thing Temari noticed as she made her assessment was the girl's arm. It hung limply at her side once she'd frozen in place, and it was covered...literally coated in blood. The red liquid dripped into a small puddle by her feet, and swung this way and that like a streamer attached to a stick.

Blood and sand, thought Temari, shuddering inwardly. Gaara…

"Who are you?" Kankurou yelled, despite Temari's direct growl.

"Kankurou, I told you to shut up," she snapped. He immediately shot her an annoyed look but acquiesced.

"Stay here," she ordered, and started towards the girl.

The only thing worse than getting caught, was getting caught by shinobi.

I could clearly see the giant fan on her back, and the Suna headband around her neck.

This was not just any Suna-nin either. I knew exactly who she was once I got a good look at her—Temari.

She was famous for her ability to use her Kyodai Sensu, her giant fan, and for being the only sister of Gaara—the sand demon.

Everyone knew of him, of course. Rumor had it that he'd killed hundreds of people over nothing.

I always doubted he could be any worse than Giia, but as I stood in the middle of a restricted area and saw his silhouette in the entrance, I wasn't so sure.

Temari stopped a few feet away from me and squinted, like she was sizing me up. Surely, there was no mistaking the fear in my eyes, or the lack of hatred and malice.

I wasn't going to strike first—surely, she saw that.

"What's your name?" The kunoichi asked.

My eyes trailed downwards, and I saw that she was standing in the Pleurisy root like she had no idea how rare they were.

Was she going to kill me?

I was stealing from the village, but that wasn't punishable by death, was it? Accidentally, I glanced over her shoulder to the mouth of the canyon and caught a glimpse of her brothers.

He killed over nothing...

When I didn't answer, she barked, "Answer me. Name?"

"Daagana," I said thoughtlessly.

I should have given her a different name. Maybe the name of one of those girls who worked at the perfume shop by the ramen bar. Maybe the blonde one that snickered at Giia whenever she floated by.

"And why are you here, Daagana?" Temari went on, not in the least bit phased. My name sounded dull on her lips, like she was just listing off another noun on a long list of unimpressive nouns.

"...My arm…" I glanced down at the bloody mess that was still leaking from a wound on my shoulder.

In theory, it shouldn't have been bleeding this badly, unless something more precious had been nicked, such as an artery.

Temari took in my wound with a long calculating stare. It made me antsy, and a wave of dizziness gave me the vague reminder that if I didn't do something soon, Hiniku was going to be performing her first amputation before she even graduated from the academy.

"Give me the herbs," Temari ordered.

It was my turn to study her skeptically.

Was she just going to take them and banish me from the canyon, knowing I would probably die on the walk back to the village? Or would she snatch my arm when I gave her the herbs and chop it off herself? Was there even a scenario where I got to keep them?

I didn't have any other options at this point, so I reluctantly held them out to her, quickly pulling my arm back before she could draw her knife.

With a melodramatic sigh, Temari pulled on the sash that was tied around her waist, folded it up neatly and stepped forward. I stumbled backwards, hardly believing she was going to try and strangle me! There were plenty of other ways I could die that wouldn't take that long! But she was quicker than I was and firmly pressed the sash on my wound.

"Apply pressure or the bleeding won't stop," she said, and then looked down at the herbs in her hand.

I stared at the crown of her head in shock, but obeyed her command reflexively, holding the sash where she had instructed me to.

I suppose it was just in my nature to obey.

I had no spark, no spunk or, as Giia would say, no spine. If I followed directions and didn't cause a fuss, everything should work out fine...

An insidious voice, one I usually ignored, whispered in my ear, that philosophy never rang true at home, so why should it now? It always pipped up when I didn't want it to, making my hands sweat and my tongue go numb. I couldn't let it get the best of me here, though. If I gave even an inch, Temari would see, and she would not be so understanding then.

Temari bent down and placed the herbs on the ground to begin sorting through them. She seemed to know a little first aid and applied it as she pulled the leaves off all the stems and discarded them.

I whimpered a little at the discarded greens like I was watching someone stomp on silk. They could still be used to make tea, she didn't need to-

"Sit down," she ordered, and I flopped to the ground with a thud, all floral comradery forgotten.

Temari made a face, but didn't comment. She spun all the stems together, and made a simple hand seal over them, then pulled back the sash from my arm and placed the twined stems right in the gash.

I winced and looked away quickly when she made the other hand seal and the stems started to glow green. They activated, leaking out a dull white foam that stretched over the wound, and pulled the two sides together again, then hardened. What was left was an organic plaster scab.

Once the procedure was done, Temari took her bloodied sash and tied it securely around the new scab.

"In case it falls off or reopens," she said under her breath.

I couldn't believe it.

Temari...the strongest kunoichi in the village was helping me! Me, of all people!

She'd applied the stems just like the diagrams in Hiniku's book, and the reaction was exactly right.

If I'd read it correctly, the scab would rejuvenate the connective tissue between my muscles and fall off after a few hours.

And on top of it all...she'd given me her sash!

I guess I couldn't help myself. I flew forward and tried to throw my arms around her, but her hand instinctively flew up and I slammed my face into it.

There was an awkward moment of realization before I pulled back and sunk into a bow, used to my affection being rejected.

"I'm so sorry! Thank you! Thank you! I'm sorry! Thank you!" I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping she wouldn't pull out a kunai and gut me right there. It wouldn't be good for the herbs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she coughed awkwardly, nonchalantly glancing over her shoulder to see if her brothers had noticed. "Now get out of here, and don't come back!"

I jumped up and ran for the entrance, blowing past her siblings. My heart skipped a beat as I ran past Gaara, hoping he wouldn't kill me for being in his general vicinity.

Giia usually didn't need more of an excuse than that, after all.

Days Later

"Temari, I'm starving! I need food!" Kankurou whined as the two elder Sand Siblings made their way through the streets of the village.

Baki hadn't given them anything challenging to do during training, so they had the rest of the day to work as they wanted, but Temari was tired of babysitting her whiny brother, so she agreed.

Gaara never trained with them, and she was thankful for that, but it also meant he never ate with them, and for that, somewhere deep down, she felt a little guilty.

"I wish you weren't so damn annoying," she grumbled, but Kankurou was already sitting down at the closest ramen bar.

This wasn't a street they usually traveled, but it was a nice enough part of town. The building was old but well-kept and sported bright lanterns to chase away the coming evening drowse.

"How many?" the old man behind the counter asked as Temari bent past the noren and sat down beside her brother, leaning her fan against the bar.

"Three," Kankurou said immediately, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together like he was about to receive a blessing from the almighty god of food.

"Three?" Temari sneered. "Why? You think Gaara's going to magically appear and you'll be able to sate him with ramen?"

"No, I'm eating two," Kankurou said happily, ignoring her quip at him.

The old man was cleaning bowls on the other side of the counter and, although he had acknowledged them, he didn't make a move to prepare their meal.

"Heeey, start on our food, old man!" Kankurou whined.

"Soon as my hired help gets here. She's late again." He shrugged at Kankurou's ire.

"So fire her," Temari said, leaning her head on her hand, bored.

"Wouldn't be right. She ain't got a good home life," the old man said with an angry sigh. "New cuts and bruises every day." He picked up another bowl and began to dry it. "That hag comes in and takes all her money too. It's a sad sight."

"But I'm hungry…" Kankurou whispered to Temari but she shoved his face away.

"I tried to stop 'er once..." The old man continued, before catching himself.

"What happened?" Temari asked, just to keep anyone but Kankurou talking.

"That darned woman hollers for everyone to hear that she can raise her daughter however she well pleases, and it ain't my place to go against the woman, especially if the daughter don't complain."

Temari cocked an eyebrow.

"You're telling me she doesn't complain?" Temari asked incredulously. "Even though her mom abuses her?"

"I told ya' it's a sad sight. The girl ain't strong enough to hate the woman. I tell 'er every day, she ain't a mother anyone should have," the old man said, the frustration in his heart prompting him to offload somewhere. "But she's stubborn, and won't let anyone help 'er."

The thought occurred to Temari that this wasn't exactly table talk. It couldn't be good for business to discuss child abuse with your patrons.

"Why are you saying all this, old man?" Temari asked, feeling edgy from his overshare.

"Jus' between you and me, I thought maybe ya could—"

But before he could finish, a girl came rushing out of the back room, apron flying.

"I'm sorry Ojiisan! I...tripped and...had to clean a wound," said a familiar girl with a nervous smile.

Temari's eye twitched slightly.

Daagana.

I hated lying to Ojiisan, but he always took things too far.

Sure, Giia had pushed me into a pile of her shoes and one of her stilettos dug into my leg in a bad way, and cleaning it up made me late, but that was because I had rolled my eyes at her when she was picking her outfit for the day.

After I pulled the shoe from my thigh and rinsed it for her, I made a mental note to keep all eye movements in check. It was ridiculously cheeky, I don't know what had gotten into me lately…

But one glance at Ojiisan told me that he didn't believe me.

It was a good thing he never asked questions anymore. The last time he had, I didn't come to work for four entire days because of Giia's punishment.

I glanced over the bar, and saw the wonderful faces of Temari and Kankurou. Gaara was nowhere to be found, although I wasn't sure if Ojiisan would have served him if he had shown up. Sabaku no Gaara wasn't welcome at any Suna establishment, even all-accepting Ojiisan's. 'Oh great.' I thought to myself.

"Serve 'em three," Ojiisan said, and went back to drying bowls.

I nodded my head and quickly began to fill three bowls of ramen as ordered. It didn't take long. After two years, it was more muscle memory than cooking. I worked in this shop every day, and it was more a home than my house was.

That's pathetic, the insidious voice whispered, and I firmly suppressed it. It would not get the better of me here, either. With practiced ease, I bumped my hip into the searing stove, feeling the singe on my side. I held my breath, knowing that no one had seen, but feeling relief when the shadow in my mind simmered back to where it came from.

Without missing a beat, I placed a bowl of ramen in front of each of them, but paused with the third bowl…maybe Gaara was coming, and I was suddenly self-conscious of my ramen.

I didn't want to die because my broth was too salty.

But Kankurou motioned for me to put it in front of him as he slurped up his first bowl of noodles.

When they were content, I turned my back and began to beat udon dough into noodles.

"Where's Hiniku?" I asked Ojiisan, with my back still turned.

I heard him chuckle, and quickly spun around, only to have a bottle of water dumped on my head.

My first thought was of the noodles that were now ruined, and my second thought was to take her down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Temari looked confused, but Kankurou burst out laughing, noodles wiggling from his mouth. I quickly recovered and grabbed a loose bottle from the counter, throwing it in her face. Temari couldn't help but smirk.

"Dinner and a show," she hummed as I play-fought with my friend.

Hiniku's curly blond hair was sticking to her face, my face, and everywhere as we giggled and ran circles around Ojiisan, splashing water at each other. He sputtered and waved his spatula around in the air like we were little mice scampering around his kitchen.

Just when I was winning and Hiniku's waitress uniform was more sodden than mine was, the worst person had to walk in.

Giia came waltzing up to the bar and leaned over so far that her breasts rested on the menus. I only caught the flash of her golden hair before I nearly threw Hiniku to the ground to make myself presentable, knowing it was in vain.

Giia was beautiful and terrifying, and I was plain and spineless. Next to her, I was nothing.

She leaned back rigidly while I jumped to my feet, smoothing down my damp hair and straightening my rumpled skirt and apron. She looked like smoke was about to come out of her ears, she was so mad.

Hiniku jumped up in front of me protectively.

"So, is this what you do here? Make fools of yourselves in front of respectable customers?" Giia gritted through her teeth. Her eyes slid over Temari and her brother and I saw her debate her next move, realizing who they were.

My head hung in shame.

I shouldn't have let Hiniku distract me from my duties, especially not in front of customers. Especially not in front of Temari and Kankurou.

Ojiisan was going to be put out because I would have to remake that batch of noodles, which I should have started on immediately. This was my fault.

"Outside," she hissed at me, gliding out of the ramen bar with a snap.

"Gana..." Hiniku murmured quietly, but I shook my head and slowly walked around the bar to follow my mother.

She spun around to face me after leading me to the back alley, and before I could even say anything, she slapped me across the face.

It wouldn't have hurt so much, but she wore a ring on her right hand, and had a habit of turning it around her finger. It was a huge, fake thing, but sharp. She'd stolen it from the night market, hidden it in her purse, and showed it off to me later, while I scrubbed the floors at home. It just so happened to be the thing that came in contact with my face.

"You're due," she hissed, palm outstretched.

My face stayed to the side, just so I could hide the tears that were building up.

"Now," she demanded.

Slowly, I pulled out my old wallet, but she was impatient. She snatched it from my hand, tore it open and took all the money, then dropped it on the ground and stepped on it with the heel that had been in my leg that morning.

She wore them out of spite, I was sure, but there was still no mistaking how good she looked in them.

"Remember Daagana, you make a fool of yourself, you make a fool of me. And you don't want your mother to look foolish, now do you?" she asked, and I quickly shook my head.

"No, mother."

"That's a good girl," she cooed, patting my bleeding cheek.

I didn't fail to notice her perfectly manicured nails, or her new purse. She wafted the smell of cheap perfume around her like a cloud as she turned on her pretty heels and sashayed down the street. I watched her enter a bar further down the road and I knew she would not come home alone tonight...and that I should not go home at all.

Temari, without even really registering it, was anxious to know what was happening out there.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but that in itself unnerved her. From what the old man had said, Daagana's mother was not the kind to let her give an excuse.

Power was one thing. Power was respected and feared.

Cruelty was an entirely different thing.

Cruelty was her father.

Cruelty was Gaara.

And apparently, cruelty was this woman.

Temari didn't know why she cared. Maybe it was the helplessness of the girl, something innate that made Temari want to protect her. Maybe it was simply because she already knew the girl, however tenuously.

Maybe it was because something of this girl's situation echoed her own.

Maybe…

After a few minutes, I re-entered the bar bleeding, and Temari stood from her stool abruptly. There would be no hiding the shallow gash across my face, but I still averted my face from her angry eyes just the same.

"I'm gonna kill her!" Hiniku roared and charged towards the entrance, but I caught her at the end of the bar.

Her anger was expected, and wholly unnecessary. This situation played out all the time. What reason was there to get upset about this one little thing? Giia had just had a bad morning that was all.

Yeah, just like every morning. Admit it—you'll never be good enough to help her.

"Will you help me?" I asked disarmingly, ignoring the whispers. It was unfair of me to manipulate Hiniku like this, but I couldn't have her go after my mother.

It was a misunderstanding, end of story.

Hiniku immediately dropped her rage and threw an arm around me protectively. "Let's get you cleaned up, Gana," she said, and led me to the back where we kept the first aid kit.

I didn't deserve someone like Hiniku, but that was alright. In a few months, when she's graduated, she'd forget all about me, just like Giia always said. I wouldn't hold her back anymore.

"I hate 'dat woman," the old man said disgustedly, shaking his spatula in the air. "One of 'dees days, I'm gonna let Hiniku at 'er. That'll show 'er."

Temari glanced at her brother, who wasn't paying much attention to anything but his second bowl of ramen.

She felt foolish for reacting to the evidence of abuse on Daagana's face. It was nothing compared to what she got during simple sparring matches with her friends. Cuts, bruises, and even the occasional broken bone were all very normal.

She was a shinobi. Pain was a weapon and an occupational hazard.

But this girl…was not like them. She didn't know to use her circumstances to her advantage. Before Daagana had come in, the old man was going to ask her to do something about it, Temari was sure.

But what was there for her to do?

Quietly, Temari walked out and glanced down the road.

She couldn't see Daagana's mother, but when she looked down, she saw a ruined wallet and a few small drops of blood.

She picked the torn piece of leather up and brushed it off.

It was a cheap thing with the Suna symbol on the front. It piqued her interest as she pulled out her own wallet and saw that she had the same one. She had gotten it in the academy when she was younger, before her Genin exam.

Perhaps this girl understood her own circumstances more than Temari gave her credit for.

#naruto #gaara #sabaku no gaara #sabaku no temari #sabaku no kankuro #sunagakure #suna #abuse #ramen #princess #shinobi #ninja #mother #best friends #daagana #giia #hiniku #ojiisan

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ichikonohakko · 7 years

Text

To my Kuroko @ushijimas-thighs who have so much interest that matches mine that I don’t know which one to choose, happy valentine! I tried my best to have all the things you listed but it just didn’t work with the idea I have in mind, so here’s a AkaKuro Yakuza AU with super slow build in which Kuroko is an unattainable shadow and Akashi is pining for him so hard.

Since you mentioned that you like mystery, this story has a lot of elements that are open to one’s interpretation, but genre-wise I’d say this is more of a Hurt/Comfort and Angst. Well that’s it, I rambled enough please enjoy your chocolate!

title: The Fourth Generation of Akashi Clan

word count: 4,605

warnings: AkaKuro has four years age difference, a lot of violence and how violence is regarded as a normal thing

used terminologies: Oyabun – Boss (the highest ranking person of the Clan, also called with their respective generation. Shodaime is the First Boss, Nidaime the Second Boss, Sandaime is the Third Boss, and Yondaime the Fourth Boss) Anego – Elder sister (wife of the boss) Waka – Young Lord (the offspring of the boss) Wakagashira – First Lieutenant of the Clan (in a way, this is the position of the vice-leader of the Clan) Shateigashira – Second Lieutenant of the Clan Saiko Komon – Senior Advisor(s) (usually consisted of the previous boss’ wakagashira and shateigashira, along with Heads of branch families underneath the Clan) Exchanging of Sakazuki – A very important ritual that symbolizes absolute trust between yakuza Shingiin – Law advisors of a Clan Kyodai – Older Brothers of the clan (senior members of the clan) Shatei – Younger Brothers of the clan (new members of the clan)

Seijuurou was thirteen years old when his Father summoned him to his quarters.

He sat, with his head bowed, and offered the Oyabun his utmost respect. The room was cold and autumn winds never really suited Akashi Clan’s Main House’s design, but Seijuurou persevered. It just wouldn’t do for the future Yondaime of the Akashi Clan to whine about the House’s weather in front of the current Oyabun, so Seijuurou held himself in the perfect posture befitting of the current Waka of the Clan while trying his best not to shiver.

The Oyabun regarded him with his usual stern expression, one he wore in front of everyone but his late wife, before nodding in acknowledgement of Seijuurou’s respect. Seijuurou put his hands on top of his lap, eyes calmly meeting Father’s own as he waited for the other to start the conversation.

“Seijuurou,” he began, calm and domineering, Seijuurou kept his attentive silence. “As the future Yondaime of the Clan, I will give you the same gift Nidaime had given me on my thirteenth year. This is a tradition only known to the future Oyabun of Akashi Clan and no one else. So by giving you this gift, I am acknowledging your position as the next Oyabun officially. Will you accept this gift?” Seijuurou calmly regarded his Father, noting that his surroundings were empty and there was no gift in sight. Seijuurou bowed. “With all due respect, Sandaime-sama, but I do not see anything that you may want to gift me.”

His Father laughed, a genuine sound of amusement that Seijuurou hadn’t heard since the day his Mother had try to cook western breakfast for the entire Clan, and it startled him. But he regained his composure and schooled his face into the façade of indifference he had perfected since he was six and kept his silence.

“My gift has been here the entire time, Seijuurou. Come, Tetsuya, make yourself known.”

The dark corner of the room shifted as a boy with pale skin and striking blue eyes stepped out of the darkness and soundlessly made his way to the Oyabun’s side. Not once did he look to Seijuurou’s direction. He bowed a perfect ninety degrees bow for his Father and sat next to the Oyabun. Azure eyes met with crimson for a split second before the boy bowed to Seijuurou.

“He will be your shadow. His life is yours and your safety is his number one priority. Generations of Akashi Clan’s Oyabun have always had a shadow from someone of the Kuroko Clan and you are no exception.” The boy kept his gaze on the floor, clearly waiting for Seijuurou’s acknowledgement but the Waka had his gaze on the boy for a while before looking back to the Oyabun.

“He looks very young.” Seijuurou commented. The boy twitched, but he kept his bow. Seijuurou nodded in acknowledgement, earning the boy’s blank and pointed stare that focused on him and nothing else. “I am young, but I am the best.” His reply was curt and simple.

“Age does not hold any importance for one’s duty as a shadow. Tetsuya is the best out of all the others that were offered as your shadow. I have seen his ability firsthand and I have no doubts over his qualification.” Oyabun’s tone did not leave much room for discussion, so Seijuurou sensed that he should relent. Oh well, he never knew about his Father’s shadow, so his presence shouldn’t really matter…

“Do you accept this gift, Seijuurou?”

“Yes, I do, Sandaime-sama.”

“Very well. I will leave the two of you to be more acquainted with each other.” When the Oyabun stood up, both Seijuurou and the boy bowed their heads, and the boy angled himself exactly forty five degrees to show that he was much subordinate than Seijuurou was. The Waka was impressed at his meticulousness.

When the Oyabun left, Seijuurou was left sitting face to face with the boy who looked younger than him. He regarded the other from head to toe, trying to know more about him with only his eyes.

The boy kept his silence, eyes kept on Seijuurou’s figure and nothing else, as if acclimating himself to Seijuurou’s figure. He eventually broke the silence.

“My name is Akashi Seijuurou,” he started, because a name is always a good place to start. “I am the current Waka of Akashi Clan, to succeed the position as the Yondaime Oyabun. And you are?”

“I am called Kuroko Tetsuya,” he replied. “I am to be the fourth generation of Akashi Clan’s shadow.”

His word choice was interesting. ‘I am called’ did not necessarily mean that his name is Kuroko Tetsuya, but Seijuurou decided that it was far too early for him to question the authenticity of the other’s identity. The Oyabun didn’t ask questions, so Seijuurou shouldn’t either. At least, for now. He decided to ask the next thing that was on his mind. “How old are you?”

“I am ten years old.”

“You are very young.”

“Yes, I am. But as I said, I am the best out of all others in my Clan that are offered to Akashi Clan; that is why I am even allowed to sit in front of you like this.”

His tone was as calm as his face, but Seijuurou could hear the irritation rolling off of him in waves. Seijuurou decided to let it slide in the light of other pressing questions he had. “What does your role as a shadow entail?”

The boy looked at him with a blank expression on his face. “I am to be whatever you want me to be.”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be whatever you want me to be,” he repeated blankly. “I will be whatever you want me to be, so long as your safety is not compromised in the role I assume.” Seijuurou narrowed his eyes, and the boy didn’t even need to ask to hear his confusion. “I can be your friend, your harlot, your assassin, your accountant, your lover, your brother, your bodyguard, I am to be whatever you want me to be.” His gaze was as blank as his expression and Seijuurou found this eerie. It was as if the boy had practiced this line over and over again in front of a mirror, and he probably had.

“Well, I suppose that I should say that it is nice to meet you, Tetsuya.”

The boy looked surprised at the hand offered to him, but he didn’t take it. He prostrated himself in front of Seijuurou and mumbled.

“It is nice to meet you, Waka of Akashi Clan.”

ii.

Seijuurou was fourteen when he saw Tetsuya’s kill for the first time.

Two weeks after their first meeting, the other had faded into the background of the hustle and bustle that was the Clan’s Main House. Seijuurou didn’t even notice his presence most of the time, and neither did everyone else in the House. But when Seijuurou was alone, he could feel a gaze watching him with such intensity that reminded him that he was always being watched.

So Seijuurou tended to his duties as the Waka of Akashi Clan with nothing new of note other than the piercing gaze.

On the night of Seijuurou’s fourteenth birthday, his Father had announced him as the official heir-apparent for the Oyabun spot and made him the shateigashira of Akashi Clan. The spot had been empty ever since the previous shateigashira retired to civilian life, after all, so the Oyabun had deemed it a perfect fit for his heir to practice dealing with authority.

Of course there were many branch family Heads that didn’t agree with his placement, deeming him too young for the position, and there should be others that were fit to take the position. After all, Seijuurou didn’t have anyone who followed him out of their own free will yet, and he was even too young to have sake, how was he expected to exchange sakazuki?

His Father had quelled everyone’s distress with a simple ‘I am merely repeating what the Shodaime had done to my father’, letting everyone to come into their own conclusion. Nidaime’s era was also called the golden era of Akashi Clan, in which the Clan had climbed as the first in Kanto area. From then on out, it was up to the younger generation to make sure that their status and rank stayed at its apex.

But still, one of the members of Saiko Komon had tried to kill Seijuurou in his sleep and Seijuurou was actually woken up by the crushing weight of one of the old men in the Komon.

Seijuurou gasped awake, clearly startled by the sudden weight, but then he saw Tetsuya on the foot of his futon, licking his bloodstained kodachi with an unreadable expression.

“My apologies. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to step over your head and slash his throat, I might get some blood on your face.” He said as he sheathed his kodachi. “You can go back to sleep, shateigashira-sama, I will take care of this.”

Tetsuya was shorter than the man and he was clearly having difficulty to drag the man’s body from Seijuurou’s futon. Seijuurou then pried himself away from the weight and helped the other to dispose of the body. He could see a small blood stain circling a clean stab hole on the back of the man’s sleepwear, Tetsuya had stabbed him clean through his heart and killed him instantly.

No words were exchanged between the two as they dragged the body to the incinerator on the back of the House. Seijuurou ceased to have any doubts of Tetsuya’s ability from that point on.

iii.

Seijuurou was sixteen when he saw Tetsuya’s humanity for the first time.

They had spent two years together and Seijuurou was mostly convinced that Tetsuya was not human. From the night he first saw Tetsuya kill, there had been five more attempts on his life and Tetsuya had killed them all as cleanly and as efficiently as he had the first time. Seijuurou had been sick on his stomach every morning he had to eat breakfast after he burned someone’s corpse in the incinerator, but Tetsuya didn’t look like he was bothered at all.

Twelve year old Tetsuya never had an expression on his face, even in the days Seijuurou sat with him in front of a Shogi board, killing some time. The blue-haired boy was somewhat of an enigma, really, and he had a way of saying much without telling Seijuurou anything of importance.

Seijuurou never really felt the need to close the distance between them until one uneventful day. Seijuurou was relaxing on the park, reading his book and completing his homework for the next day when they saw a pair of children playing basketball and having ice cream on the bench. Seijuurou didn’t pay too much attention to them, but Tetsuya’s gaze lingered at them.

When they were about to leave, Seijuurou had beckoned him to follow, but Tetsuya held his ground for a few seconds, his expression was that of a foreign mix of loneliness and envy and it struck Seijuurou hard. Tetsuya was just a boy, he probably wanted to play like those children as well. The sound of their laughter was genuine and they were smiling as they linked their fingers together and went home. Tetsuya didn’t leave until they left, smiling at a memory that was unknown to Seijuurou.

“Tetsuya?” He called, expecting to see a miniscule of expression on the always-blank face. He was met with the usual coldness and nothingness instead. “Yes?”

Tetsuya looked so small, and Seijuurou almost laughed because why was he only realizing this now? Tetsuya had always looked small and young, even he realized that the moment he accepted him as a gift from his Father. He resolved to talk some more to his shadow, remembering that it was always watching and listening, so surely it could reply back.

iv.

Seijuurou was eighteen when he asked Tetsuya to kill a man.

Akashi Clan did not allow traitors to live, and the Oyabun had trusted him to handle this matter. The Saiko Komon all had his eyes on him and he was expected to end this cleanly and speedily. Seijuurou thought that it wasn’t really a problem at all.

He knew that Tetsuya was behind the cherry blossom tree that bloomed in front of his room, he had been noticing more and more about his shadow in the last two years. He had known that the other’s real name was indeed Tetsuya, but Kuroko was a name he took as the member of his clan. He knew that Tetsuya was an orphan, his parents had been the shingiin for Kuroko Clan and they had been killed by a rival gang. Tetsuya’s final assignment had been to kill them with his own hands and he had completed it without any hassle, just like any other job.

Seijuurou got up from his futon and went to the courtyard, spring breeze complimenting the beauty of the falling cherry blossom petals and brought chill to his body. Tetsuya was seated on the branch, looking at the full moon with his usual blank stare.

“Tetsuya,” Seijuurou called. Azure eyes focused on him and Seijuurou didn’t need him to ask. “I want you to kill someone for me. Can you do that?” Seijuurou had no doubt that he can, after all he had seen Tetsuya kill people over and over again, but he wanted to ask.

Tetsuya was as pale and small as Seijuurou remembered him when he was ten, but he had grown up beautiful and it only came to him now. The revelation made him open up his arms, asking the beautiful child to come down to his arms. Tetsuya stared at him, confused.

“You say the oddest things, shateigashira-sama,” Tetsuya jumped down from the branch, landing perfectly still on his geta. “You shouldn’t ask, you should order.” Azure eyes stared at him, as unwavering and unyielding as it ever were. Seijuurou thought that it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. Tetsuya was now his age back when he first received him, it made him notice things.

“Then I will give you an order, don’t disobey it.”

“I never disobey you, shateigashira-sama.”

“Call me with my name.”

Tetsuya’s eyes widened and Seijuurou could see that his head was tilted ever so slightly to the left, as if he was surprised and confused. “I realize that you never call me by my name since the day we met four years ago. I want you to call me with my name.”

“I thought you were going to order me to kill the traitor who dared to betray your Clan?” Tetsuya deadpanned, his face showing an expression of genuine intrigue that Seijuurou only ever saw when he was killing people or in a particular pinch in their game of shogi. Seijuurou smirked. “I don’t need to ask, I need to order, yes?” Seijuurou said as he went closer to Tetsuya. “You will be whatever I want you to be, yes?” He was now in front of him. Seijuurou was a head taller than Tetsuya so he gazed down at his shadow with a surprisingly tender expression.

“I want you to kill a man for me, you will grant me his head, yes?”

“Yes,” Tetsuya breathed. “Yes, I will.”

Seijuurou smiled and he reached out a hand to ruffle Tetsuya’s hair. The shadow looked confused, but Seijuurou noticed the slightly pink tinge on his cheeks and ears, and the way his eyes widen in elation that was brought upon by the simple gesture. Seijuurou put his hand under the boy’s chin and tilted them upwards, making an eye contact. “Yes, what?”

Tetsuya shivered. “Yes, Seijuurou-sama.” He was tempted to ask why Tetsuya used his first name instead of the last, but Seijuurou reckoned that he must have called his Father the same thing, so he didn’t bother. Tetsuya’s chin felt cold against his skin and Seijuurou gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Go then, Tetsuya. Surprise me.”

The next morning, Seijuurou woke up to a neatly-wrapped box with the head of the traitor resting inside at the foot of his futon. The Saiko Komon had had nothing to say.

Seijuurou was twenty when he saw Tetsuya smile.

The Main House was bustling with people coming for the new year celebration, every member of the branch houses ranging from their Oyabun to their Shatei were all present. Seijuurou had been busy left and right greeting and entertaining his fellow clansmen, but when he took a small break to the washroom, he saw Tetsuya walking towards the cherry blossom tree.

Seijuurou decided that his curiosity should take priority on this occasion and followed him. Seijuurou went to his room, where he could see and hear what happened underneath the cherry blossom tree clearly. There was a boy with brown hair, dressed the exact same way Tetsuya was with his black yukata and silver geta, smiling at Seijuurou’s shadow and opened up his arms to him.

“Tecchan!”

Tetsuya ran towards him with the biggest smile on his face and tackled him onto the ground. “Shigehiro-kun,” Tetsuya sighed to the other’s shoulder. “Shigehiro-kun…” This time it was desperate and demanding. He was smiling as the other boy ran a finger on his cheek and grinned wordlessly.

“It’s been a long time and you still love being hugged like this,”

“Yes, it has. And yes, I do.”

And they didn’t exchange another word after that, only silence as they held their embrace for a few minutes. After that, they separated from each other and waved each other goodbye. Then Seijuurou saw the blank expression settle on the other boy’s face as well as he headed over to the future Anego of the Aomine Clan and disappeared in the crowd.

Ah, the boy was a shadow as well.

Seijuurou went back to see Tetsuya still standing underneath the tree, his eyes sparkling with apparent relief and happiness and Seijuurou thought that it was beautiful. Smiling to himself, Seijuurou went to his shadow and pulled the boy backwards until his back was on Seijuurou’s chest.

“So you loved being hugged. You should have told me.” Seijuurou was still a head taller than Tetsuya, even when the boy was growing, and yet it felt just right to rest his chin on Tetsuya’s hair. Tetsuya’s gaze was still on the cherry blossom tree, lingering. “It didn’t matter, it never mattered.” He muttered under his breath.

Seijuurou chuckled. “Then, let’s make it matter from now on. I really like to spoil you, you know?”

Tetsuya’s silence greeted him for a while before the shadow muttered under his breath. “You shouldn’t.” Seijuurou tightened the hug. Tetsuya felt really small in his arms and he somehow liked it that way. “But I want to. I want to spoil you, so you should be what I want and let me spoil you.” Seijuurou let the silence hang as they watch the cherry blossom tree swaying slightly with the breezy wind.

“Tell me, who is that boy from earlier?” Tetsuya didn’t even look like he was surprised, because he didn’t ask who Seijuurou had meant by his statement. “We were childhood friends,” Tetsuya replied, curt and simplistic. “He was chosen to be a shadow before I do.”

“What do you feel about him?” The question was a byproduct of pure curiosity, because Tetsuya was always so emotionless and Seijuurou was curious, but he didn’t expect his shadow’s answer at all.

“I like him, he makes me very happy.” Tetsuya deadpanned without any sort of affection whatsoever. “Shigehiro-kun makes me feel like I’m human, and it feels nice.” It was so typical of Tetsuya to deadpan something like that, so Seijuurou chuckled his amusement.

“You are so cute, Tetsuya.”

vi.

Seijuurou was twenty one when he exchanged sakazuki with Aomine Daiki.

It felt like a logical choice, they were both the heir-apparent of their parents’ position and they weren’t hostile with one another. Daiki was a great fighter and all he wanted was to fight someone stronger than himself. And he was in a very complicated relationship with his future wife.

Because he was swayed by his own shadow. Kuroko Shigehiro had enchanted both Daiki and his lady wife Satsuki; when Seijuurou found out he had been so intrigued by them that it seemed like such an easy decision to swear brotherhood with this man.

“They are too enchanting for beings that exist and yet not,” Daiki had said to him once he had drunk enough sake. “I mean, Kuroko Clan doesn’t train a lot of shadows because there aren’t many who had the resolve to be one, but every single one they did train was too goddamn pretty.” Daiki’s words reminded him of Tetsuya’s beautiful smile and reddened cheeks. He put out his cup and smiled.

“Yes, I absolutely agree with you.”

vii.

Seijuurou was twenty two when he told Tetsuya that he loved him.

He really couldn’t explain what he felt towards Tetsuya, because he was always there and Seijuurou had fallen for him somewhere along the way. Tetsuya was a presence he couldn’t live without and though he didn’t know what that meant, he decided to call it ‘love’.

Tetsuya had stripped himself of his garment and went over to Seijuurou, kissing him and grinding towards him. Seijuurou had pushed him away, not quite in anger but in sheer surprise. He didn’t expect Tetsuya to do what he just did.

“But you told me that you love me,” Tetsuya explained, his face was as blank and his eyes cold. “I am to be your lover, I am to have sex with you, because sex is the ultimate form of love.” He sounded like he had recited those words from memory, just like when he introduced himself as the fourth generation of Akashi Clan’s shadow. And Seijuurou felt sad.

“Tetsuya, please clothe yourself,”

“I don’t understand… am I doing something wrong?”

Seijuurou only realized that Tetsuya probably didn’t understand the meaning behind his action. He only worked like he had been made to, acting the skills that been drilled into him. His Father had referred to him as a ‘gift’, implying that Tetsuya was not a human. Seijuurou himself had believed it and yet…

Seijuurou pulled him into a hug. They were now almost as tall as each other, Tetsuya was a few centimeters short of him, but Seijuurou buried the other’s head on his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck in circular motion.

“Seijuurou-sama?” Tetsuya asked.

“It’s nothing, Tetsuya. I love you.”

He didn’t understand what he meant by that, either.

viii.

Seijuurou was twenty four when he kissed Tetsuya’s lips.

It felt as cold as everything else that was Kuroko Tetsuya, but it didn’t matter. Seijuurou loved him so much. He didn’t understand how he had fallen, and he couldn’t explain it to anyone, but he just… do.

And yet Tetsuya was a shadow, and he had lived with that conviction ever since he was but a child and he really couldn’t fathom the depth of Seijuurou’s affection. Ever since the night Seijuurou told him that he loved him two years ago, Tetsuya had been trying his best to understand Seijuurou’s feeling towards him and they had walked baby steps in their relationship.

Seijuurou felt that it was wrong to force physical contact when Tetsuya was only doing it out of his training as Seijuurou’s shadow, but he was so desperate that he captured Tetsuya’s lips on a kiss.

His bedroom was dark, only lit by a single aromatherapy candle he had kept by his bedside, and he and Tetsuya were there. Seijuurou wanted to kiss him, wanted to love him, wanted to be with Tetsuya in any way he could and Seijuurou had ordered the shadow to sit next to him and kissed him.

Tetsuya’s lips were cold and chapped, and yet Seijuurou devoured him like a hungry wolf. He dragged his tongue on the roof of Tetsuya’s mouth as his hand wondered to his chest. He knew that he was wrong, but… “Tetsuya, I—“

Tetsuya kissed him back.

It was fierce and harsh, demanding and raw and sloppy, but he was kissing back. Seijuurou felt a certain desperation in his touches and his ears were red. Seijuurou pushed him onto the bed and their eyes met each other as they both panted, gazing at one another. Seijuurou found a sense of intimacy and hunger, one he had never seen in Tetsuya’s eyes ever before. He pressed their forehead together and sighed.

“I want you to be my lover,” Seijuurou whispered. “Will you do it?”

Tetsuya didn’t smile, didn’t even blink. But he had his hand on Seijuurou’s face, caressing it with trembling fingers, as if Seijuurou could break if he wasn’t careful. “You say the oddest things, Seijuurou-sama,” he kissed Seijuurou and then he smiled the most beautiful smile Seijuurou had ever seen.

“You shouldn’t ask, you should order.”

ix.

Seijuurou was twenty six when he became the Oyabun of Akashi Clan.

Since then he had had so many people trying to kill him in his sleep, fortunately his lover slept next to him and didn’t hesitate to slash people’s throats with the kodachi hidden underneath his pillow.

Tetsuya didn’t even wake fully from his daze when he killed a nameless member of the rival family with his kodachi and Seijuurou smiled at him. Tetsuya had blood on his face and he was beautiful, so utterly beautiful.

“I love you, Tetsuya.”

Tetsuya licked his kodachi with an unreadable expression before sheathing it back. He kissed Seijuurou’s nose and plopped down to his pillow.

“Go back to sleep, Oyabun-sama, it’s way too early.”

Maybe someday Seijuurou could hope that Tetsuya loved him the way he loved Tetsuya, but now sleeping together like this should be enough.

x. Bonus

Kuroko Tetsuya was twenty two when he realized that had fallen in love.

It was from the simple things that the Oyabun did, like smiling when he woke up next to Tetsuya, or when he looked awed by his kills, or when he hugged him, or when he spoiled him silly. But then he realized that the Oyabun had been doing that for a long time.

It has been twelve years since they met and Tetsuya knew that Akashi Seijuurou would always be the center of his life, but never in his wildest dream did he ever imagine that Akashi Seijuurou would make him the center of his life.

It was only because of light that shadows exist. Kuroko Clan had drilled into him the basic principle of being a shadow. They were to think that they were disposable, and lights can always go on without their shadow, but then Tetsuya realized…

Maybe it was only because shadows exist that light could shine brighter, because Seijuurou always whispered to him that he couldn’t live without Tetsuya. That had been odd, really, because Tetsuya always thought that Seijuurou could always leave him behind if he so choose. Of course Tetsuya didn’t really believe in him, but then Seijuurou stayed.

He stayed, he never left, even when Tetsuya wasn’t the shadow he was supposed to be, Seijuurou stayed. All because he loved him.

Kuroko Tetsuya was twenty two when he realized that he had fallen in love, and on the midnight when he turned twenty three, Tetsuya told the three words Seijuurou always told him and genuinely knew what he meant.

It makes him feel human, and it feels nice.

#AkaKuroValentine2017 #akakuro #akashi seijuurou #kuroko tetsuya #yakuza au #angst #i dunno how to tag sorry #ushijimas-thighs

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