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carromeaway · 4 years

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Dazai is a Sociopath

A Persuasive Essay About Why Dazai is a Sociopath

By @carromeaway

Dedicated to @/bsdthoughts on Twitter

Created to annoy said user

Also, I thought this would be a good way to practice how to write arguments

This may contain spoilers! Read at your own risk.

Also trigger warning! Mentions of suicide and self-harm!

Oh, also here’s a PDF version if you don’t wanna read it here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aNYWMTb8wNEaoZGb9277_UcsUzNQjoHP/view

The definition of a sociopath, stated by the Oxford English Dictionary, is “a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” In this essay, I will be explaining the personality disorder and how it correlates to Dazai Osamu’s character in Bungou Stray Dogs. I will be focusing on four key points for my argument; how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath, why I do not consider him a psychopath, how it affects his relationship with others, and how it may explain his past and his actions. Keep in mind that this is only a theory and I will be including both assumptions and speculations to support my argument.

Let us begin with the point how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath. Common signs of a person with sociopathy, or an antisocial personality disorder, include lying or deceiving others for a goal, being charismatic and manipulative, criminal behavior, lack of empathy and/or remorse, struggles with forming good relationships, recklessness for his and others’ safety, and irresponsibility among other things. Dazai has exhibited behavior with all of these symptoms. I could give a variety of examples where Dazai has lied or manipulated someone for the sake of achieving his objective. For the sake of keeping this shorter, I’ll provide only a couple of situations.

Dazai had been caught by the Port Mafia, albeit on purpose, and came across his old partner from his days in the mafia, Nakahara Chuuya. This happens in the tenth episode of the anime and the tenth chapter of the manga. During his interaction with Chuuya, Dazai manipulates Chuuya by blackmailing him using the fact that Chuuya was the one who released Dazai from his chains. He also blackmails the mafia by sending them a threatening letter containing a simple statement, warning the mafia that if he were to die, then all their secrets would be exposed. Another example of his manipulative behaviour would be when it is insinuated that Dazai deflates Sakaguchi Ango’s airbag in his car so he would sustain multiple injuries when another car rammed into theirs. This was to force Ango, a government agent, to cover up the 35 murders that Izumi Kyouka, an Armed Detective Agency member, had committed. This takes place in episode 19 (episode 7 of season 2) of the anime and chapter 26 and 33 of the manga.

Dazai has also displayed recklessness, irresponsibility, and a lack of empathy and remorse. Using the same example as before, Dazai showed no remorse for Ango when he was severely injured by the car accident. Dazai is often irresponsible, pushing his work on to others and lazing about when he should have been productive. This is a repeated pattern throughout the entirety of the manga and anime, so I’m sure if you’re reading this, you have no need for any examples. Additionally, Dazai has always been very reckless with his actions, his plans often include someone being thrown to the sharks. You can see this in episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga when Chuuya is forced to use Corruption to defeat H.P. Lovecraft as planned by Dazai.

I could go on for a while about Dazai’s sociopathic traits, but that is not the focus of this essay, so let us move on to my second point. Dazai is not a psychopath. Psychopaths and sociopaths have many similar symptoms. Every trait I listed previously are ones that both types of people share. So, why would I not consider Dazai a psychopath? There is a very simple reason for that. One of the biggest differences between a psychopath and a sociopath is the ability to be attached to others. While psychopaths may be able to fake a relationship, whether it’s platonic or romantic, they are completely unable to form real bonds with other people. On the other hand, while it may be difficult for them, sociopaths can have genuine relationships with others.

My biggest piece of evidence for this section is the bond between Oda Sakunosuke and Dazai. Dazai in the Dark Era, when he is in the Port Mafia, and Dazai when he joins the Armed Detective Agency are two very different parts of the same whole. Dazai in the Port Mafia is quite a bit more serious and emotionless, while Dazai in the ADA is much more lighthearted compared to his former self. There is a huge fact to point out, though. Dazai with Odasaku was strikingly dissimilar to how he acted without Odasaku there. Dazai acted a lot more childish with Odasaku around, exhibiting their comfortability around each other. They had a close bond and Dazai was a lot more vulnerable around Odasaku than around anyone else. That was the reason Odasaku was able to understand Dazai better than anyone else.

In chapter 4 of the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, and in episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2) of the anime, Odasaku talked about Dazai during his fight with Mimic’s leader, André Gide. He stated, “I still have one unfinished matter. I didn’t say goodbye to my friend.” He later goes on to explain the difference between Gide and Dazai, who were both actively seeking death. This displays their closeness, and it is canon that only Odasaku was able to get that far into Dazai’s mind. Dazai also showed sorrow when Odasaku passed away, which is an emotion that is difficult for sociopaths to feel unless they have a bond with someone. As a side note, I would also like to point out that while there is no certain proof, Dazai does seem to feel a little remorse for some of his harmful actions. That is another trait unique to sociopaths in comparison to psychopaths.

My third point is how Dazai’s possible antisocial personality disorder may affect his relationships with other people. While you may argue that Dazai can feel sympathy for others, especially when he is the one who saved Nakajima Atsushi from starvation, I believe that that was only for Odasaku. In episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2), Odasaku explicitly tells Dazai to “protect the weak and save the orphans.” It would make sense if Dazai only saved Atsushi because he felt as if he had to carry out his friend’s orders.

I would also like to point out his relationship with Nakahara Chuuya. Before I begin explaining, I feel the need to mention that this is mainly speculation and is very likely to be proven wrong. Dazai and Chuuya seem to have a deep hatred for each other, as you can tell by the multiple times they have stated that they despise each other. An example would be episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga. While I do not want to put words into their mouths, I would like to point out that their actions contradict their statements. In the same episode, Chuuya expressed worry for Dazai when he is thrown into the tree and nearly loses his arm. In another scene, Dazai cleans up the blood on Chuuya’s face and neatly folds his clothes after Chuuya passes out from exhaustion as he had been using Corruption (or Tainted, whatever you prefer). While he does abandon him, it goes to show that Dazai has, at least, a little bit of a conscience.

This may be a long shot and you are free to argue (respectfully) with me about this, but I believe that Dazai does not really hate Chuuya. There are three emotions that are the easiest for sociopaths to feel. Hatred, anger, and fear. I think Dazai has some conflicting feelings about Chuuya (I swear I’m not insinuating anything), but he resorts to hatred to define those feelings because it was simply the easiest emotion to feel. On a similar note, Dazai doesn’t really have any good relationships with the people he interacts with, like his coworkers at the ADA. While they may care about him and vice versa, the relationship with his coworkers doesn’t seem to go deeper than mutual respect and common decency.

My fourth and final point in this essay is how Dazai’s sociopathy correlates with his actions and his past. Now, I warn you, there isn’t a lot of evidence for this theory, but I hope you can still hear me out about it. I think Dazai understands that he is a sociopath. You could argue with me that Dazai isn’t a sociopath, that he feels sympathy for the innocent people who get caught up in their business, but I don’t buy that. While this sounds quite harsh, I don’t believe that Dazai has a sense of empathy, especially when Dazai continues to inconvenience others despite knowing what he’s doing. But if Dazai knows he’s a sociopath, why doesn’t he change? Well, that’s simple. He can’t. There’s no way he can force himself to feel empathy and adjust his actions. His brain doesn’t work that way. He can pretend to be sympathetic, but what’s the point in that?

Now, how does Dazai’s acknowledgement of his sociopathic tendencies affect him? Let’s begin with Dazai’s past and build from there. In episode 26 (episode one of season three) and in the light novel, Fifteen Years Old, when Dazai is asked why he wants to die, he replies, “Let me ask you, then. Do you think there is any value in the act of living?” Throughout this light novel and the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, Dazai continues to show a pattern of hopelessness. All he longs for is to view the world differently than he already does, but if he cannot achieve that, he would rather die. But I think, as he grows, Dazai’s mindset changes. His desperation for death becomes a joke, something he doesn’t take as seriously anymore. I believe Dazai realized his sociopathy, and while he couldn’t change how he experiences his emotions, he began to think differently. What if Dazai believes that he doesn’t deserve to live, that no one would want him around because of his sociopathic tendencies? But he wants to live. After Odasaku’s death and after he’s experienced the light, he begins to realize that there is something worth living for. He just doesn’t believe he deserves it. I do not have any solid evidence to prove this theory, but it was something interesting that I would want others to consider.

For anyone who has gotten this far, I congratulate you. It must have been difficult to read my scatter-brained thoughts. Before we end this, I would like to clarify something. I am not a medical professional. I do not have a degree in psychology, but I am studying it. Please take that into consideration if you decide to debate my theory with me. For anyone who didn’t feel like reading through this, I won’t even bother with a summary. Trust me, it’s not worth your time. Thank you for reading and thank you to my friend who has put up with my dumb theories. You can message me on Instagram @carromeaway if you would like to discuss my theory or the show in general. Also, ask me any questions in the comments, whether it’s to clarify something or to ask me to analyze another character or to even elaborate further on Dazai’s character. I could talk about this for hours.

Citations:

Antisocial personality disorder. (2019, December 10). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/antisocial-personality-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20353928

Bungo Stray Dogs Wiki. (2020, December 03). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://bungostraydogs.fandom.com/wiki/Bungo_Stray_Dogs_Wiki

Duignan, B. (n.d.). What's the Difference Between a Psychopath and a Sociopath? And How Do Both Differ from Narcissists? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.britannica.com/story/whats-the-difference-between-a-psychopath-and-a-sociopath-and-how-do-both-differ-from-narcissists

Grohol, J. (2020, May 20). Differences Between a Psychopath vs Sociopath. Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://psychcentral.com/blog/differences-between-a-psychopath-vs-sociopath/

Robinson, K. (2014, August 24). What's the Difference Between a Sociopath and a Psychopath? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/features/sociopath-psychopath-difference

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #oda sakunosuke #psychology #sociopath #this is my first post and it's an essay #please help i don't know how tumblr works #bsd #character analysis #nakajima atsushi #i feel like i over analyzed #i put so much effort into this #andre gide #did i write too much? yes

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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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seiin-translations · 3 years

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2.43 S1 Chapter 3.5 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

5. READY FOR SUMMER

You think Aoki reads shonen manga?

This is the end of the first half of the first season, a.k.a the first tankobon volume. I’ll be going on a short hiatus for a few week before coming back.

Stan Odacchi!

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Thrusting a CalorieMate bar into his mouth and holding a sports drink in his hand, when he rushed to the washroom near the gym, he suddenly ran into Aoki. Aoki took one look at Oda’s face and widened his eyes for a moment, then cautioned him with a disgusted look on his face.

“You should stop it with that…in my opinion.”

“Can’t be helped. I didn’t have the time to eat lunch or go to the washroom.”

The CalorieMate had sucked up his saliva and was sticking to his mouth. He put the box that still had some left and the bottle on top of the urinal and lined up next to Aoki.

Immediately after serving as an assistant referee on the courtside, he immediately jumped into his own team’s match, served as an assistant referee again on the same court as soon as it was over, plus he had to keep an eye on the progress of the entire boys’ volleyball division, support the participants and instruct the other members… Needless to say, he didn’t have time to take a lunch break, and he wasn’t allowed to go to the washroom since morning. Still, Oda only had to watch the gym, but Aoki was frequently pulled back by runners from the executive committee’s tent on top of that. This was the first time he was able to make time to talk to Aoki face to face.

It was finally the day of the Seiin Ballgame Festival. Luckily, the last few days were breaks in the rainy season, and the event was held on a day that didn’t interfere with outdoor events. In fact, the weather was so favorable that the temperature has reached July-like levels, and the executive committee has been repeatedly urging people to be careful about heat stroke.

Boys’ volleyball had managed finish four of their six group games without incident on the stage side of the gym. According to gossip, from the first group Team C, led by Aoki, had two wins, and from the second group Team F, led by Oda, had two wins, so it had already been decided that they would clash in the finals. The remaining two games would be elimination games that didn’t make it past the preliminaries, whether they win or lose, but since points were added depending on the points won, the overall winner was still unknown.

“It’d be interesting if we train Okuma to be a center.”

Aoki said next to him as he relieved himself. As ever, Aoki’s shoulder was at the corner of his vision.

“Okuma’s on the rugby team, isn’t he?”

“Well, it’s just an idea. If we had a burly guy like that, we’d look a bit stronger, right? Suemori-san said boys’ volleyball is soft.”

“It’s all about looks?”

“It’s important to look scary, you know?”

Well, when he puts it that way, it’s true that even though Aoki is the tallest guy in school, he’s more “long” than “big,” so he doesn’t look all that burly. He’s a center whose traits are height and dexterity. Okuma’s likely to be a different type of center than Aoki though…

“Well, enough about Okuma. I want Haijima more.”

“You’re pretty fixated on Haijima.”

“What kind of guy wouldn’t fall in love with that play? You’ve seen him play two games, didn’t you?”

“I know he’s good, but that’s not enough. It’d be nice to have a character who can speak up and get the team going, but he’s the complete opposite of that. Your team isn’t attracting any amateurs, right? For events like these, it’s better to have a noisy guy like Okuma.”

“So you want Okuma more than Haijima? Aren’t you being pretty cold to him?”

He couldn’t help but sound grumpy. He understood Aoki’s objective point of view. However, he got angry when he was told things objectively.

“Hmm? No.”

Aoki’s voice was light, and his shoulders turned slightly towards him.

“I’m talking about the ballgame tournament. The captain of this team is you, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t object to it and cooperate with you. If you want, I can find Haijima’s weakness so he can’t refuse no matter what.”

“I don’t need that kind of shady business.”

When he glared at him sideways, his shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s a joke.” It’s scary because this guy actually does those things that seem like a joke.

“We don’t need Haijima’s weakness for him to join. The problem might be Kuroba. He’s doing well so far today, but I don’t know what’ll happen when he comes face to face with Haijima in the finals.”

“Just have them match up. A feud between freshmen would be all cleared up if they just punch each other once hard and tell each other their true thoughts, don’t you think?”

Aoki said carefreely while lightly shaking his hips up and down, then tucked his thing back in and left the urinal.

In the case of you and me, we missed our chance to go through the process of punching each other and saying our true thoughts, and now we’re here… Oda watched the tall silhouette disappear across the label of his plastic bottle with a look like he wanted to say something.

Even though he and Aoki had their disagreements, they always ended up sidestepping the issue instead of getting into a serious quarrel. Even though Aoki would attack others with a sharp tongue as much as he wanted if necessary, but when it came to Oda, he would take a step back. He didn’t have to retract his opinion if there was something about Haijima’s acquisition he didn’t like. I’m not such a tyrant that I won’t respect the opinion of the vice captain.

Oda still wasn’t convinced about how he was chosen as captain in the first place. Whenever Aoki gave him his due because he was the captain, it stimulated a deep sense of inferiority within him.

When the grade before them retired, Aoki was to be appointed as the next captain. He had a mild and calm personality, able to keep an eye on the whole team. He was the natural choice.

At the same time, Oda was advised to switch from attacker to libero. The introduction of the libero system had opened up a place for people with short statures to play an active role. They could only substitute with a back row player and couldn’t participate in the spikes and blocks in the front row, but a receive specialist was an essential position in modern volleyball. It wasn’t that the previous captain had any ill intent, but rather that he knew that Oda poured more passion into volleyball than anyone else.

However, right with that timing, Aoki jumped into the student council. As though he was purposely creating a situation where Oda was compelled to be the captain—he couldn’t hold an important position on the student council and be a team captain for club activities at the same time. That was why Aoki couldn’t take on the role of captain. And under the current rules, the libero couldn’t in effect be the captain. In other words, as long as Oda had no choice but to be captain, he couldn’t switch to libero. Oda truly felt humiliated at being stripped of the attacker position. Because Aoki had sensed that.

What’s with you? Was that pity for me, who never grew taller? Or was it the freedom of a tall guy? He was angry. However, he was unable to lay bare such ugly emotions in front of Aoki and in the end, it didn’t turn into a serious conflict at the time. The comfortable relationship that they had since they started high school had somehow created a wall instead, and there was an atmosphere where it would be too awkward to share their feelings at this point.

Although Aoki was his best friend and a trustworthy partner who was more easy to get on with than anyone, he also harbored a strangely twisted gloominess towards him.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was awkward, so he purposely waited for Aoki to leave the washroom before he did so himself, but he saw a tall and narrow back staying in the corridor in front of the gym. From the other direction, Suemori appeared and suddenly spoke in a reproaching tone.

“Oda-senpai, why were you taking your time in the washroom? Please don’t make me wait here.”

“I don’t remember telling you to wait…You could have given me a shout if there’s anything to take care of.”

“I don’t want to go near the boys’ washroom.”

Oda nonchalantly put his hand behind him, feeling that the food and drinks he brought out from the washroom were dirty. I’ve been slightly thinking this for a while, but I wonder if Suemori hates men. But she seems to be able to talk to Kanno normally.

“So, what’s up?”

“The old teacher collapsed.”

Aoki answered in place of Suemori.

“What!?”

The advisor for the boys’ volleyball team was an elderly teacher, just as Aoki called him. They’ve heard that he was rehired on a part-time basis once he reached retirement age. Apparently, he used to play volleyball when he was a student, but the form of the game of volleyball should be quite different between then and now. He was like a fossil from his generation.

The advisor had been the referee for the entire competition without a break since this morning. Even they, as active high school students, were likely to collapse from the hectic bustle, so it would be even harder on the elderly.

It seemed that he was feeling dizzy from the heat due to the temperature in the gym having risen. They said it wasn’t serious, but the referee’s chair was now vacant. There were still three matches left. Either Oda or Aoki should be the referee for the remaining two games in the group league, but the problem was the finals where C and F would encounter each other. Since the other positions also had the bare minimum amount of people in them, there were no extra hands.

“Well, I’ll do it.”

Aoki said without missing a beat.

“Aren’t you competing?”

“I don’t mind. From the start, I prioritized administration, so if there’s not enough people, I was going to pull out and head over there, but…ah, there’d be a problem with me refereeing a match with my own team.”

“You say that, but there’s no other way. I want to give Kanno a chance to be in a game, and there’s no reason to bother pulling Kuroba out. On the contrary, isn’t the balance better now that we have two experienced people on each team?”

“Even if it was still three on two, we won’t lose. It’s not that…it’s no fun if you’re not gonna be playing.”

He felt like he was the only one being childish and having a tantrum at a time when everyone had to back each other up, and his voice got quieter and quieter. He couldn’t bear knowing that Aoki and Suemori were exchanging worried-looking glances over his head. But he still didn’t like Aoki’s quick and easy way of splitting them up. Was I the only one who was looking forward to the match…?

“If that’s the case, let’s make it a little more interesting.”

Aoki proposed in a light tone. When he looked up with suspicion in his eyes, Aoki had a pensive look on his face with a faint smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. He looked like that when he was about to plot something.

“In other words, you’re saying it’s boring because you’re not in it. In the first place, you say ‘take’, but do you even have their approval…?”

“I’ll persuade Okuma. Of course that’s if C wins. If F wins, you’ll persuade Haijima. However, if you lose, you’ll have to give up on Haijima once and for all. —Kuroba!”

Aoki suddenly yelled. Kuroba, who had suddenly been poking his head in from the metal doors on the gym side of the corridor, made a “Mrp” sound and ducked his head.

“You and Nagato both don’t want Haijima to join, right? You were listening in on our conversation just now. Since it’s like that, crush them to bits. Treat this match like a real game.”

***

The chief referee for the finals was Aoki. The assistant referee, the point displayer, and two linesmen were all members of the team who weren’t playing in the game. The other two linesman and the ball retriever were help from the girls’ team, including Suemori.

It was past four o’clock in the afternoon, but heat was coming down the roof, which had been scorched by the midday sun, and accumulated indoors. The windless court wasn’t just completely covered in heat, but also some kind of strangely oppressive atmosphere.

As the team members took their positions around the court, they sensed a strange tension in the court that went beyond a mere school event, and their expressions tightened. Only Aoki had his usual relaxed expression, and he wondered what he was scheming. The way the already-tall Aoki stood on the referee’s stand and looked down at the court already somewhat made it a “tower.”

There were some spectators gathered along the walls and on the stage. The gallery installed on the second floor was also overflowing with students in sportswear. He thought that since it coincided with the futsal and softball finals, the spectators would be drawn to that, but it seemed that a surprisingly large number of people had come just to watch. Across the partition net, on the other side of the court, the girls’ basketball game was being held. The random bouncing of a ball other than a volleyball was jarring to his ears—he might be getting a bit nervous himself. He shrugged his shoulders up and down to release the extra energy. He was already sweating just by standing.

Team F got the serve through rock-paper-scissors. Haijima would serve from the right back row, and Oda would start diagonally from him at the front left. The opposing Team C’s starting order had Kanno at the front right and Kuroba in the back left. With two volleyball veterans placed diagonally from each other and sandwiching and supporting the amateurs, both teams had the most suitable formation.

Kuroba, getting ready to receive, kept pulling at his T-shirt and wiping the sweat off his face an unusual number of times. He wondered if it was just his imagination that the movement of his legs seemed heavy. Even though he was always jumping around on the court even when there was no need for it, now his feet were clinging to the floor. He’s pretty nervous. The fact that the crowd was much bigger than for the group league no doubt played a role.

What are we going to do for this game? He felt like it had become a farce starring the boys’ volleyball team, but of course he wasn’t going to lose on purpose. We’re going for the win. It was out of the question to give up on getting Haijima because of a single loss in a in-school match. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have taken this bet, but it was also out of the question for Oda to not buy a fight that had been sold to him.

He called Haijima, who was heading for the service zone, to a stop and he turned around and asked him something.

“It’s okay now, right?”

“Yeah. Do it with all your power.”

He heard the sound of the safety lock inside Haijima disengaging. In the previous two games, Haijima was banned from doing jump serves. It would no longer be a game against an amateur team if he did so, and someone were to get hit in the face, they risked injury.

“…Eleven months.”

Haijima muttered in a low voice, cast his gaze to a point on the other side of the net and narrowed his eyes.

“Did he get a little better?”

He smiled faintly. The depths of his eyes were boiling, as though he was even taking in this heat and transforming it into a part of the heat within him. Stimulated by that fighting spirit, Oda also felt his entire body trembling.

Just you watch… He glared at Aoki, but couldn’t meet his gaze with Aoki on the referee’s chair.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Haijima’s jump serve even drew the eyes of the first-timer spectators. He placed the ball in his left hand, stretched his arm directly before him and stood still. A beat of dignified silence that took the watcher’s breath away. The moment he tossed the ball up high with a spin towards the ceiling, there was a big “Ooh.”

From his graceful and refined form, as though he was dancing in the air, he let loose a sharp jump serve. Contrary to the slickness of his form, Haijima’s serve was quite unpleasant. It had a unique twisting spin, partly due to him hitting left-handed, and the one who was receiving was under immense pressure. Drawing a curving arc, it accurately aimed for the area Kuroba, who was positioned in the back row, was guarding. Kuroba, who didn’t say he was good at serve receives, managed to hit it with his arms with a panicked look on his face. Fortunately, it went up high, so his teammate went right below it and waited. Who was going to hit it?

Was Kuroba, who received it, going to hit it himself?

“Right court!”

He was astounded by the instruction that came from the referee’s chair.

Oi, wait a minute!? Is that even allowed!?

The ball was set to Kanno on the right court. Oda jumped to block in surprise, but Kanno dexterously shifted the core of the impact and changed it to a straight spike from the angle of a cross-court hit. Tch, he’s good… The spike that was as sharp as a needle went through a narrow course.

While landing, he turned his head to follow the whereabouts of the ball. He thought it might have been on the border of the sideline, but Nagato the linesman didn’t hesitate to indicate that it was in. The person who enthusiastically shouted “Yes!” from outside the court in place of Kanno, who had landed soundlessly, was…Suemori. I get the feeling that there’s a lot of officials that are emotionally attached to the opponent’s side, but…?

Team C’s first point was engraved.

“Oi, why is the referee giving out instructions?”

He snapped at the referee’s chair.

“If there are any objections, you can write them down on the record sheet later.”

Aoki said calmly, then quickly blew the whistle to prompt Team C to serve. There was no way they were going to prepare a record sheet used for official games for a ballgame tournament.

“Do it in one go, Haijima.”

He turned his back on the referee’s stand in indignation and said that aloud in order to calm himself down. However, Haijima only sullenly muttered, “You haven’t gotten any better at defense though,” and it seemed that he didn’t care about the noise around him or the subtle and complex actions of the staff members. The intensity of his concentration after entering the court was astonishing, but…he felt that he was slightly different from the previous two matches. Isn’t his mind too focused on one point?

At the end of where Haijima’s eyes were fixed on, Kuroba was, as ever, looking around restlessly while worrying about sweating profusely. The complete opposite of Haijima, his concentration was scattered. It was a face that screamed that Aoki’s implication was bad.

Team C, under Aoki’s instructions (which he still couldn’t wrap his mind around), had adopted the strategy of gathering the ball to Kanno. The scene where Kuroba hit didn’t return immediately, but even so, that scene came when it was 3-3 in the beginning, the rotation moved three at a time and Kuroba in the front right was directly facing Haijima in the front left over the net.

The first setting of this set came from Kanno to Kuroba.

At Haijima’s instructions, a triple block was set up. Oda in the back row prepared to back them up. “That’s a hell of a jump from that guy!?” The jumping power of Kuroba, who was high enough for his chest to comfortably show up over the net, made the crowd go wild. Completing the rotation of his shoulders by arching his whole body in midair, his body bent back and his arms swung out, as though releasing a nocked arrow. This dynamic spiking form, which could be called the splendor of volleyball, was the usual Kuroba, but…he’s not looking at the blockers at all. The ball didn’t pass over the net, getting caught on the white band and falling to Team C’s side.

Right when F-team took the lead with 4-3,

“Time out.”

The head referee requested a time-out.

Oi…I’ve never heard of this.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Why hasn’t he fixed that habit of his yet?”

Haijima turned on him as soon as they gathered courtside. Team C was making a circle around the tower that was Aoki. So why was the chief referee coming down from the referee’s stand and being on the bench of one team? After glaring at the other party who made his temple spasm, Oda turned back to Haijima.

“It already became solidified within him when he joined in April. There’s no problem in practice games, but he always gets like that when it’s a game with a lot of pressure, and to be honest, he’d be useless in an official match.”

For last year’s middle school prefecturals, Oda only went on the second day, so Kuroba, who apparently only participated on the first day, went unchecked. When he first joined the club, Oda was simply excited that an unexpected find had burst in. In fact, when he was used in the May practice match, he couldn’t find any problems. There was an inconsistent feeling to him, like he was developing, but his energetic play was pleasant to watch, and his strangely likeable character also helped to energize the whole team.

Although they haven’t acquired Haijima yet, he was confident that their attacker lineup was in good order with this, and then the prefectural tournament in the start of June—

The god of volleyball seemed to like secretly digging pitfalls.

An odd habit had begun to show up. He either failed his spikes entirely that got caught by the blocks and got himself out, or it got trapped by the net. It wasn’t like his form was messed up, but he couldn’t settle it. Even when he asked the person in question, he vaguely answered with a somewhat spaced-out expression, like his feet weren’t on the ground, that even he didn’t know why it was like that.

“…Why…”

Haijima grumbled, glaring at his feet with a gaze that could scorch through the floor.

“Stumbling over something like that…”

Haijima, that’s exactly how I feel about you, Oda thought. If you ask me, I’m jealous of the both of you, and just looking at you makes me irritated.

“Hey, we have to do something about him. It seems that it has something to do with Nagato and the second round of the middle school prefecturals?”

At this point, I should create a front that would make Haijima take a step closer to us, even forcibly. Thinking that, he tried inducing him.

“The middle school prefecturals…?”

Haijima raised his head and furrowed his brow.

“Sometimes players fail in their debut matches and suddenly fall to pieces.”

“They said it was my fault? But…”

His voice jumped up for an instant. He immediately closed his mouth sullenly and looked down again, fiddling with the taping on his fingers in front of his stomach. He thought of him as a player who didn’t have the habit of making other people read his mind, so that behavior was unexpected.

“What was I supposed to do…I was waiting, on that day…but, he was the one who didn’t come…”

He felt like the view before him was suddenly blocked by a thin, but hard, shell.

***

Even after the timeout, Kuroba’s play was lackluster. It would have been excusable if he had been blocked by the volleyball team members, but he was messing up because he was minding the blocker, who was an amateur ten centimeters shorter than him and just standing in front of him. Really, when he was good, he was great, but once his gears went out of whack, he quickly fell apart on his own. To be honest, he thought it was better for him to withdraw, but Aoki, Team C’s captain as well as the referee (this dual role was strange no matter how you look at it), didn’t seem like he was going to replace him.

He could see the frustration building up in even Haijima every time Kuroba made a mistake. Even so, the thing that differentiated Haijima from Kuroba was that his play never wavered, or rather, became frighteningly sharp. Not necessarily in a good sense, as he even covered his teammates’ minor mistakes all by himself and ended up excluding the amateurs. It felt like the sullen aura emanating from Haijima’s entire body made it seem as if the temperature on only their side of the court had dropped down a notch. It was out of the control of even Oda and he called to him less and less, and he thought that he could imagine the atmosphere in the second round of the prefectural tournament Nagato was talking about now.

His irritation towards the two who didn’t appreciate at all the value of the treasures that had been given them became stronger. If it were those two, there was no doubt that they would be able to stand at the forefront for the next ten or twenty years. Was it asking too much of freshmen to be less small-minded when they had such high physical potential? But, if he had those two’s potential, he definitely wouldn’t waste it. A super-ace who was trusted by his team for his solid decision-making ability as well as enlivening the team as a mental pillar…He knew that he couldn’t be that kind of player anymore, but he still dreamed to this day.

The fifteen-point system was shorter than he expected. When Haijima rotated from the back row to the front row and match-upped against Kuroba with the net between them again, they entered the final stage of the first set. Kuroba, obviously bending back, took a receiving stance like he was shrinking away from the net. While glaring at Kuroba’s disgraceful behavior with a gaze that could burn the net to ashes, it was perhaps at this moment that a circuit somewhere in Haijima’s mind snapped.

The serve was Oda’s. His thoughts were so focused on the two of them that his aim was a bit fuzzy, so the easy and half-hearted ball ended up falling right in the middle of the opponent’s court. He ran back to the court, fed up with himself as he thought that he might not be better than Kuroba today. That was when it happened.

“Hit the ball, Kuroba!”

Haijima shouted. His carrying voice suddenly pierced through the court where all talking had decreased, and everyone on his own team was startled.

As in the first round, the set flew from Kanno to Kuroba. Almost as if by spinal reflex, Kuroba suddenly did a run-up and leapt. Haijima blocked it perfectly.

However, this time as well, Kuroba’s spike didn’t even go over the net before it was blocked.

They both landed on the floor at the same time, the net between them. Right then,

“Stop screwing around!”

Haijima kicked the floor right after he yelled that, and then barged into the other court from under the net and tackled Kuroba. At this unbelievable situation, Oda froze in the receive stance, unable to move. It’s different for baseball game broadcasts, but I’ve never seen a brawl at a volleyball game, and I didn’t think he was the type to lose his temper like that!?

Everyone on his own team was dumbfounded, and everyone on the other team jumped out of the way, startled. After blowing Kuroba all the way to the center of the court, Haijima immediately went to straddle him and grabbed him up by the collar as Kuroba was hitting his back and coughing.

“Don’t run away! At least give one decent shot! If you’re this nervous for just a ballgame tournament, you’re not cut out for this, so just quit!”

He was yelling at him, looking like he was about to bite his nose off.

Kuroba’s back lifted off the floor.

“Hey…stop it, Haijima!”

Oda came to his senses and hurriedly passed under the net.

Right when he was about to pin Haijima’s arms behind his back, Kanno wedged himself in between them and said, “Senpai.” While keeping Oda back, Kanno looked at the referee’s stand. Oda widened his eyes and looked up at the stand, where he saw Aoki leaning against the top of the pole and grinning down at the two first-years on the floor.

“If they had just one big fist fight and told each other how they really felt…” Their conversation in the washroom flashed across his mind.

Hah!? No way, don’t tell me you were expecting this!?

Kuroba, who he thought was just going to let this happen, surprisingly grabbed Haijima’s wrist and yelled back.

“I’ve never been in a game where I had to lose successfully, and I don’t know how to do that, so of course I’m not cut out for this!”

“What are you talking about…”

Haijima was speechless. Kuroba, hesitating to say further, glared at Haijima at point-blank range as he moved his lips soundlessly. Then, he suddenly cast down his eyes, drew in his chin, and pressed his fist that was grabbing the front of Haijima’s chest to his forehead. It looked like a gesture of prayer.

“…’Cause, he said that you’d come back if we lost… Hey, isn’t this enough… Come back already…”

Come back already.

Those were words that Oda couldn’t think of or say in his position. They made him realize he didn’t need any pretense, and that all he needed was such clumsy, straightforward words.

Haijima, having lost his outlet for anger, just looked bewildered. His face, looking like those straightforward words didn’t penetrate his stubborn heart very well, made Oda irritated again.

“Hai…”

Right when he was about to interject, unable to keep quiet anymore,

Beep!

“Oh, you guys done yet? It looks like you guys pretty much said it all.”

A fake cough and Aoki’s voice, dampening the tension, came down from the referee’s stand.

“If that’s the case, the two of you, leave the court.”

He said, calmly holding up a red card.

“Fighting in volleyball is unheard of. And freshmen, don’t say that this is just a ballgame tournament, because this is a lively event that I worked myself to the bone to prepare for without sleeping. They really do need to pay me for this.”

***

After seeing the overall results at the administration tent with his own eyes, he returned to the gym. The gym, where the partition net was removed and cleanup had ended, was empty, but the net and poles still remained on only the stage-side court where the boys’ volleyball match had taken place. It was as if only the net wouldn’t admit that the match was over. The enthusiasm for the finals that had engulfed the court had now been cooled by the evening air, and he suddenly felt lonely.

There was a figure standing before the net. Like the net in front of them, it seemed like they still wanted to continue the match. Well, he was kicked off the court after doing one set, so I guess I can’t blame him for wanting to rampage more. The taping on his hands hanging down on the sides of his body still haven’t been undone yet.

“Haijima.”

Though his back reacted slightly to his call, he didn’t attempt to turn around. He goes at his own pace, eh. Oda smiled wryly as he approached him.

“They didn’t put the net away?”

“I asked them to leave it. I’ll put it away.”

Just like on the first day of team practice one week ago, Haijima lifted his chin and looked straight at the white band of the net. The sunlight shining through the window weakened and it dimmed considerably in the gym, but he could see a light in his eyes. A dazzling light that welled up within Haijima, as though he couldn’t contain his feelings of dissatisfaction.

“This wasn’t set up at 2.4?”

“Oh, we only raise it to 2.43 at the finals. ‘Cause it’s a game full of experienced players.”

With his hand on the net, stroking it sideways, Oda walked to the edge of the court and put his hand on the pole. Since the protective mat was removed, his palm touched the cold metal directly. The surface of the old bronze-colored pole was rough with copper rust stuck to it.

“We’re going to a family restaurant for the team’s afterparty, so meet us at the school gate at six-thirty. Don’t worry, us third-years are paying.”

“Please don’t count me in.”

He was given an annoyed reply. There are still not enough reasons? Oda sighed. Even though it’s so obvious that he’s longing to play volleyball, what exactly is holding him back? Is there something else besides the Monshiro Middle incident? This guy who’s fundamentally arrogant and seems to not care about other people’s feelings is clearly afraid that something is going to happen.

“You know, volleyball really is a sport that chooses people. Well, what you do in it depends on the person. It’s not a sport where you can carry the ball by yourself, and even if one person is skilled, you can’t win. I’ve told you this before. Remember it.”

“I got kicked in my ass.”

Since Haijima was pouting with a bitter look on his face, a laugh unintentionally slipped out of his mouth as he recalled it. He immediately stopped when Haijima was getting more and more sullen.

“There’s also the fact that the difference in our sizes frankly makes me cry. It’s a cruel story, isn’t it. No matter how hard a guy like me works, even if I think I won’t lose in athletic ability, skill, attitude, or anything, I just can’t beat a big guy in that one factor, height. Why did I fell for volleyball, of all things?”

Too many of the words people hurled at him came from his own mouth. When he explained it to people, they made doubtful faces and couldn’t sympathize with him very much, so these days he had learned to ignore that kind of talk. Aoki wouldn’t understand this much either. They might show their understanding for me, but they wouldn’t have any sympathy for me.

Haijima didn’t worry over his answer. He tilted his head, as though thinking,　This guy’s asking something weird, and stated it definitively. He said it like he was talking about the completely natural activities of living beings, like saying,　Don’t calves stand up after they’re born?

“Isn’t it because there’s nothing more interesting than volleyball?”

Aah…I knew it.

I had a feeling he’d say that. What’s for us, the very simple truth of the world.

I wanted words from someone other than me. I wanted someone to affirm to me that it’s okay for even someone like me to be devoted to something. If a man with much more talent than me, who possibly loves volleyball more than me, said that to me, then I can believe that the time I dedicated to volleyball was never a waste.

Is there anything in this world that is as interesting as this, that can make me as passionate as this? The exhilaration when you release a powerful spike. The feeling of solidarity when a brilliant combination play is executed. The sense of accomplishment when you persevere and break away a rally with your teammates. The feeling of conquest when you force the opponent’s ace to yield with a kill block. That intoxication, when your concentration is at its peak and the team’s hearts are one, and you can clearly see the ball’s trajectory as an unbroken line——

Something hot welled up in his throat, and he suddenly felt like crying. But, it was too early for that. He still hadn’t accomplished anything yet.

So he bared his teeth and smiled instead.

“That so? Well, for me, I love volleyball to death. It’s the only thing where I’m confident that I won’t lose to anyone.”

It was funny that Haijima countered with an extremely serious expression, “I won’t lose either.”

“…Haijima. To be honest, it was for my convenience that I wanted you to join. I’m a third year now. Even so, I want to play as many games on the court as possible, even if it’s just one game. Even if it’s just for a day…even just for a minute, just a second, I wanna play volleyball. Can I borrow your strength for that reason? All of your strength…”

Wouldn’t I get the opposite result with that way of talking? No, it’s fine. These words shouldn’t make Haijima build a wall around himself. He seems to be terribly stoic to me and everyone else, but he won’t reject someone who’s facing volleyball seriously. Ultimately, it wasn’t about whether you were skilled or not, or whether you were tall or short. Whether you are serious about volleyball or not—that was the only line Haijima drew.

That’s why there was no reason to hesitate to step in. I’m holding the key to the door.

He really felt like he was gripping a small key in his right hand. Of course, when he opened his palm, there was no key actually there. However, he turned to Haijima and held out his hand as though to show it to him.

“Won’t you believe in me, Haijima?”

Haijima was silent for a while, staring at Oda’s hand with downcast eyes. He loosened his tied lips.

“…Spring Inter-High.”

A whisper slipped from his mouth.

“…You’re serious about going there, I see. A weak team that has never won a proper game within the prefecture is aiming for it, thinking they can seriously go there. The 2.43 meter net is for that reason, I see.”

Those eyes with a sharpness that seemed to pierce through anything before them were directed towards Oda’s face. He was surprised that something he only mentioned briefly a week ago seemed to have remained in Haijima’s mind. However, he was also convinced that just showed how strong his feelings were. By all rights, he shouldn’t be the kind of athlete who was stuck smouldering in a place like this.

He wasn’t saying it in a way that was making fun of him. On the contrary, if he was the one who poked fun at him even slightly or was ambiguous in his answer, he would without a doubt slap his hand away on the spot.

Neither deception nor half-hearted seriousness was allowed in front of this guy.

“Yeah. Now, all the actors are in place. I seriously believe that this year’s Seiin will definitely become a team that can go to Nationals.”

Oda also looked back into Haijima’s eyes with a piercing gaze and answered.

If you take this hand, I will have to meet your expectations with all my power. I’ll repeat it again with force in order to convey that resolve. There’s no need for complicated reasons. I’m sure that only straightforward words would reach his heart.

“I want you to believe in me. Lend me all of your strength.”

***

“Why the hell are you smiling? Did Haijima say he was going to join?”

Aoki jeered at him when he stopped by the administration tent. Am I smiling? Oda wondered, patting his cheeks. He might be.

“Who knows. Well, he’ll be coming to the next practice, won’t he?”

“Hoo. Personally, I don’t like it, but well, that’s good I guess.”

Aoki said that in a twisted and unstraightforward way. Oda, while wondering in astonishment, Weren’t you the one who set this up?, dragged a free folding chair over and sat diagonally across from Aoki. He leaned over the long table, thrusted his face at him and lowered his face, as though it was an interrogation in a detective drama.

“So, from when and how much of it all was within your calculations? Since you brought up that betting match in front of Kuroba, right? Since you stirred me up by saying you were more interested in Okuma than Haijima? No way, you’re not gonna say you were the one who arranged for Haijima to be in volleyball, are you? I don’t think it’s possible, but does that mean the ballgame tournament itself is a huge charade…”

“I must be the world’s greatest swindler then. You’re giving me too much credit. Originally, I planned to have Team F win the championship, and I wanted to go to the lodging house on the refreshing highlands and getting Haijima while we’re at it…that was all I was thinking. Well, the dream of the highlands lodging house is completely gone now. I really did want to go there.”

All but one of the administration tents that were lined up with their eaves side by side in a corner of the first sports ground were dismantled, and the lower grade members of the executive committee were clearing away the steel frames and sheets while bickering noisily. All of their voices had a listlessness to them, like they had finished burning, and they didn’t sound grating to his ears. Rather, the noise soaked pleasantly into his tired body.

On the grounds, members of the baseball club were doing somersaults. The clock tower behind the back net displayed the time of 6:15. The brightness of the sky dimmed, and grey clouds started to appear. According to the forecast, apparently it was still going to be clear during the day, but the rainy season was going to return during the night. There was the scent of approaching rain. The warm wind, which contained moisture, made his arms and body sticky again after his sweat had finally receded.

The uncoated paper with the overall results for today was posted on the tent’s support. If he thought that there was more enthusiasm about this year’s championship than last year, there was apparently a secret prize that was going to be given to the supreme general of the winning team. The contributor was the executive committee—of course Aoki was the one who was holding the wallet. That prize was the group accommodation at a lodging house on a highland area in the prefecture for summer vacation. It was a form of taking advantage of the fact that the captains of the major sports clubs were spread out across each of the third year classes and stirring up the competition between each team.

In the boys’ volleyball division, Oda’s Team F defeated Team C to win the championship. The referee Aoki’s blatant support for Team C in the first half was camouflage, and after ejecting the two first-years, he devoted himself to making fair and impartial judgements in the second half—or that was how it seemed. Skillfully weaving in a few advantageous judgements for Team F, he manipulated the outcome. He’s a crook through and through…but since it’s a school event, I can just barely forgive him, but if he pulled this kind of thing somewhere else, I’ll be done with him.

However, they didn’t perform so well in the other events, and in the end, Team F had to settle for second place overall. The guesthouse on the highlands was to be given over to another club.

“Aaah, I guess we’ll have to do it at school this summer too. It’ll be harsh without air conditioning though.”

“You know, you’re pretty practical even though you don’t look it…”

“Dunno what you mean by not looking practical, but I’ll accept the compliment. Well, the things you can get with cheap tricks aren’t that important, and there are plenty of things you can’t get...” a loud yawn slipped out from his wide mouth.

“Are you going to the after party? The first and second-years worked hard today, so we gotta thank them.”

“Sorry, but I’ll have to pass. I don’t mind splitting the money in half. I didn’t sleep for three days to finish up preparations.”

“Three days? And yet you managed to get in two games.”

“It’d be tough to do three games. When the old teacher collapsed, I thought in my head, ‘I’m saved.’”

He leaned back deeply on his folding chair, causing it to creak, and when he bent his neck and tilted it left and right, there was a cracking sound. Though he wondered if it was okay to speak that way about an elderly person, it seemed that after he rested in the infirmary for nearly an hour, he had readily recovered and went along with the teachers to their after-party, so perhaps it was okay for Aoki to say that, considering all his toil.

During this ball game tournament, which included preparations, while Oda was just saying he wanted Haijima like a spoiled brat, just how hard was Aoki working, even using his influence, for the sake of the whole team? When it came to Haijima, even though he wasn’t supposed to have agreed to it, he considered Oda’s feelings and took action like it was a matter of course. It had completely slipped from his mind, but it was time to think about summer training camps.

Since they knocked on the door of the boys’ volleyball club in April two years ago, he had helped him one-sidedly until now. The prodigy who had student council duties, and who on top of that could get accepted to Kyoto University, probably had any number of things he could do besides volleyball, unlike Oda. He felt a deep sense of guilt that because he invited him that day—because they were “Aoki” and “Oda”, an unexpected intrusion ended up coming into Aoki’s life.

“Ah, hey…thanks for everything…”

It was too embarrassing to say it now after two years, and he couldn’t look him in the eyes. He was grateful for the gap between their lines of sight right then. Every time he was covered for, it only deepened his own sense of inferiority, and he had never thanked him face-to-face until now.

Good grief, it’s not just my outside, I’m also tiny and worthless on the inside.

“But, sorry…you’re going to have to go along with my selfishness for just a little longer.”

His debt would increase even more in the future. It seemed that Aoki won’t be able to concentrate on his exams for a while yet.

“…That’s just like you.”

Aoki mumbled to himself, his head still turned away. From Oda’s position, he could only see his chin moving slightly, and he had no idea what expression he had on his face.

“You’re giving me too much credit. I’m feeling guilty now. Playing volleyball with you is what I want to do right now, and I’m not doing it unwillingly. I don’t need to be thanked at all. I’ve been saying this since before, but me not liking Haijima is completely my personal feelings, and I’m the one who’s just being selfish. I don’t really care about going to university or not, and I don’t mind if you want me to lower my rank so we can go to the same place…I’m basically just driven by my ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?”

There was the sound of water drops hitting the roof of the tent. The people working outside the tent looked up at the sky and exclaimed, “It’s starting to rain?”

“…You don’t have to understand.”

Aoki raised his head slowly, like a giraffe stretching its neck to find leaves that were just right, and stifled another yawn. Then, he turned towards him and lifted the edge of his mouth.

“Let’s go to Spring Inter-High. I’ll follow you until the end.”

For Oda, that thin, ironic smile was more reliable and trustworthy than anything.

The prefectural preliminaries would start at the end of September, two months later. If they won there, his retirement would be extended until the final representative deciding match in November. And if they managed to win the representative deciding match, then it would be until the nationals in January——. Just one game more. Just a day, a minute, a second longer. In order to delay the “end” just a little bit longer, they third-years would clumsily make every effort with all their ability.

When the rainy season ended, their final summer would arrive. There was no doubt that that summer would be like a condensed version of the rest of their lives after graduation. His doubts about his career path cleared up. He would put all he had into everything he could do and wanted to do right now. He didn’t care if the next few decades would be the rest of his life. Even if he burned out here and had nothing left within him, he wouldn’t regret it now.

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#2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation #2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club #2.43

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years

Note

Hello! I absolutely love your blog and all tour meta. I wanted to ask your thoughts on the Ranpo and Oda's parallels in Light Novel 3 (And by extension Light Novel 2). Oda and Ranpo have little similarities or particularly differemces to foil each other. Yet their paths intercedes three times. First when Ranpo figures out Oda wasn't the murderer. Second when Oda tells Fukuzawa Ranpo's location. And third when Oda sets off to Guide. What do you think about this?

Hello!

Sorry for the wait!

So, unluckily I have still to read the novels, but I know the moments you mention. I have also asked @hamliet for more conext and these are her thoughts:

Sooooo Oda is an assassin and is accused of a murder and arrested for it, but he isn't guilty, and Ranpo proves it. It's more complicated tho. Fukuzawa offers to help him and he's not interested (he's like a teenage kid at this point).

When Fukuzawa can't find Ranpo later on and is terrified, Oda is in prison for being an assassin (even if he didn't kill the guy) and Fukuzawa says if he talks he can help him get a lighter sentence. Oda says no to the lighter sentence, but asks for curry instead. He does tell Fukuzawa what he needs to know to find Ranpo and then Oda escapes offscreen.

Honestly, it's one was saved, one wasn't. but i think it highlights the tragedy rather than being good/bad victim.

I will use these thoughts, your description and what I myself know as starting points, but everything should be taken with a grain of salt because I have not read the original material.

First of all, I think that Oda appearing in the story of how Ranpo and Fukuzawa met is important. As a matter of fact that story tells how two lost people were saved through their relationship. Moreover, they created a group who saved other people similar to them and to Oda. However, even if Oda interacted with them and could have ended up joining them if things had gone even slightly differently, he did not and met a tragic end.

When it comes to this, it is interesting that all three times they met, they end up somehow helping each other/trying to help each other.

1) Ranpo proves Oda’s innocence (and so in a way Ranpo helps Oda).

2) Oda tells Fukuzawa where Ranpo is (and so in a way Oda helps Ranpo).

3) Ranpo warns Oda about the fact he will die if he does what he is about to do (Ranpo tries to help Oda, but it does not work).

I think this shows pretty clearly that a relationship between Ranpo/ Fukuzawa and Oda could have been enriching and helpful for both parties. This is made even more meaningful by the fact that Fukuzawa and Oda can be easily read as foils.

As I have said in this meta:

Among other things, it seems that parts of Fukuzawa’s past are starting to come back at him this arc. We will see where it goes, but for now it is just interesting that the tale of an assassin who found happiness and a new chance thanks to both Natsume-sensei and the adoption of a bunch of kids is very similar to the story of another character:

Fukuzawa’s story is basically the happy version of Oda’s. Both assassins were mentored by Natsume and made progress in their lives through adopting kids. However, Oda could not find a place outside the mafia where to live and this led to his death, while Fukuzawa created his own home by founding the agency.

This is why, I think, Oda’s last meeting with Ranpo is so interesting. Their meeting is basically Oda’s last chance to desist and to keep on living despite the pain. He is told directly he will die, but he still chooses to go on. In short, Ranpo aka a character who the series frames very positively and as an embodyment of hope, fails to save Odasaku, just like Fukuzawa did when the two met.

I think that all of this sheds light on one of Odasaku’s most contradictive traits. He is the one who inspires Dazai, famous for his suicidal tendencies, to live. He even conveys to Dazai the idea that “people live to save themselves”. However, despite what Oda represents in Dazai’s life. He himself is a character who fails to do so. He tries to save himself, but in the end gives up.

This is why Odasaku’s story is tragic. It is because we, as readers, can clearly see that it did not have to end the way it did. If he had joined Fukuzawa and Ranpo when he met them, he could have become a writer. If he had followed Ranpo’s advice, he would have survived.

In short, Oda’s death is partially rooted in the environment around him. As a matter of fact he grew up without anything and, even when he tried to change his life, he could not find a different home than the mafia. However, his tragic end is also partially rooted in Oda’s own flaw. About this, it is interesting that Oda’s objective is to become a writer. This is because the series explores the idea of struggling to live (as stray dogs) and so to give meaning to one’s own life (to write one’s own story). This is why the characters are called after famous authors. It is because they, just like their real alter-egos have the potential to write their own destiny. However, Oda gave up this chance and the possibility to change his story. In the end, he can’t escape the criminal life he had lived for the majority of his existence.

Let’s highlight that this fatalistic trait of Oda’s personality is ironically embodied by his ability. As a matter of fact Oda’s ability Flawless lets him see the future and change his actions, so to avoid bad outcomes. However, in the end, even if Oda knows he is going to meet a bad outcome he does nothing to change it. The reason why he does so may lie in why his ability is called Flawless. Oda has explained that he thought he had the right to write about humans only if he stopped being a killer. In a sense, he saw “living/writing” as something he had to gain a right to. Even if this train of thoughts led him to become a better person, it also somehow damaged him because all in all he needs no right to become a writer. He can write about human lives because he himself is a human. That said, Odasaku refused his way of thinking and searched for a flawless outcome where he would have become a writer after having become his flawless self.

In short, when it comes to a comparison with Ranpo, I don’t think there is much apart them both being two kids Fukuzawa tried to help. However, I will try to underline some interesting traits through which they can be compared.

Firstly, their “abilities” have something to do with “seeing”. On one hand, as stated above, Oda can see the future. On the other hand, Ranpo’s fake ability is about seeing the truth of a mystery. At the same time, they also have traits which contradict their abilities. As explained above, Oda refuses to change his future in the end, while Ranpo is able to see the truth in everything, but he lies to himself.

Secondly, both Odasaku and Ranpo’s positions in their respective organizations is peculiar. Ranpo is the heart of the agency and, in a sense, he can be said to be the strongest member since he is the best detective. However, he also lacks a real ability. Odasaky is instead disreguared as a low ranked mafia member because he refuses to kill. However, when push comes to shove he is one of the strongest fighters of the organization.

The way the two organizations treat Odasaku and Ranpo is also opposite. The ADA values Ranpo and his colleagues cherishes him and even spoils him. They accept Ranpo’s quirk and do not undervalue him for them. The mafia, instead, sees Odasaku as disposable because of his vow not to kill. His strange behaviour makes so that he is isolated and eventually leads to his death.

In conclusion, Odasaku and Ranpo are two kids who perceive the world in a peculiar way. They are also full of contradictions themselves. However, Ranpo found someone who gave him a home where his oddities are accepted and where he can overcome his contradictions. Odasaku could not find a homw where to work through his flaws. He attempted to do it on his own, but failed also because his environment manipulated him to fail.

So, I think that Odasaku appears in Ranpo and Fukuzawa’s story to show how similar to them he was. He would have found himself at home in the agency and this confirms that Dazai, who was inspired by him, is definately in the right place. There he can succeed where Odasaku failed aka saving himself.

Thank you for the ask and for the nice words!

#bsd #bsd meta #oda sakunosuke #odasaku #ranpo edogawa #asksfullofsugar #fredgeorge123

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yokelish · 4 years

Text

Memento mori.

Oldy but goodie. I finally got the guts to do to Death what I wanted to do from the beginning without making it ambiguous.

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Oda Sakunosuke ✏ Word count: 4.022 ✏ Warnings: death, smoking, mentions of violence.

Memento mori.

He didn’t remember how he got here or why. Loss of time after something stressful wasn’t unheard of. Emotions, adrenaline, and shock. It must have been that what made him lose time and reason. But something told him it wasn’t the case. Not with him and not now. He went after Mimic all by his lonesome and survived. But why this place? What would make him come here once again? The bridge he met the strange fellow that, somehow, knew what a reckless thing Oda was planning on doing. A thing Oda couldn’t come back from. Yet, here he was, on the same bridge again without a scratch. Oda Sakunosuke was good but not that good. No human would be able to walk away from a band of armed mercenaries without a single…

Then he spotted someone. Someone he knew instinctively was there for him. It wasn’t any sort of familiarity to connect them, just the aura coming off was that of an experienced killer. Speaking of fisherman and fellow fisherman. Dressed in all black, with a white bandage around their head, moving towards him. The person in black was approaching him with a dangerous grace in soundless steps.

Speaking of sound, he didn’t hear anything at all. And failed to notice it up until now. It was only him here, not a stray soul to pass by. With everything terribly still, quiet, and unsettlingly peaceful. Not a lost sound to disturb the silent peace. Not even a single dot of a distracting, loud colour. Everything tranquil, frozen, and in greyscale. The person, no, that being dressed in black came closer. Regular face, thought, a bit pale, especially in contrast to dark hair and black closing.

“Oda Sakunosuke?” the stranger asked as a matter-of-factly. A strange feeling of familiarity and danger wrapped around them like cigarette smoke. “Oda Sakunosuke. Not like there are many ways to mistake you for someone else.” The corner of their lips was upturn in subtle mockery. Oda clenched his fist, nodding in agreement. His eyes carefully scanned the being before him, but nothingness talked back. A perfect nobody.

“Oda Sakunosuke,” he confirmed, hesitantly, lost in the beholding. The feeling of wanting to touch their hand, to ask questions he didn’t know he had. All because of one being appearing before his eyes.

They bowed down, “I am here for you.” There was something twisted about such phrasing, danger glimmering in one visible dark eye while the other hidden behind a white bandage. And there was a sharp smile like a glimmering blade, yet alluring and charming, even. It made sense then. In that single moment Oda understood everything. The place, the timing, the unknown entity before him.

“You aren’t from Port Mafia,” Oda spoke calmly. The realization softly wrapped itself around his mind. Comprehending the feeling of danger and familiarity, the questions spilling into his head. The man remembered why and when this feeling was coming from. It wasn’t at all about this being; its dark and twisted origin was his past self. Nothing shocking about remembering that. It came as no revelation. He had known all along. Accepting his own death, incidentally, on this very bridge. The location and the timing putting together a perfect picture of an ending that came as expected, as deserved. Oda Sakunosuke died. He was dead. And this, this was death.

“What’s that?” Death asked without any curiosity. Mockery softly resounding in its voice, sweet and welcoming. A pack of cigarettes appearing in its hand. Oda counted in total to be five cigarettes. With one between its bony fingers, the ember light started to burn on it own. Peacefully smoldering, smoke wandering and weaving shapes.

“Want some?” the Stranger asked, offering a pack. Somehow, Sakunosuke believed it knew the answer before the question. He denied, figuring that a cigarette would be tasteless in the afterlife. Everything else was. No true colours, no sounds. A cigarette would be a cheap consolation, and it wasn’t to say he needed one.

“You are Death,” Sakunosuke stated confidently. In that moment, the mockery from the stranger’s eyes dissipated and turned into something akin to glee. He was wrong, however. While there were no sounds, the colours weren’t in greyscale. They were slowly fading out. Like the ink was being sucked out from the world, leaving it lifeless. Only the blackness that was Death remained untouched and constant, untainted.

“I guess I am,” it nodded along, huffing out smoke. “If you prefer formalities, you can think of me as Death.”

Oda couldn’t see it, just happened to know so. Like a gut feeling, a sixth sense. There was nothing that told him the being standing before him was the Grim Reaper. If Death could be described as person, it was more on a bony side and with an ageless face. However, nothing about it spoke of death. Nothing frightening about them, no empty eye sockets or skull imagery. Nothing repulsive. Nothing to make him reject it.

“You must have accepted your fate,” Death said, measuring him up and down. “Makes it easier. I prefer those who accepted me. The chasing around gets boring quickly.”

“Chasing around?” he raised a brow in question.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” it grinned.

“Happy to oblige then,” Sakunosuke said, bowing down in respect. Mortality was a constant to living, a persistent threat, one could say. But he didn’t fear the prospect. Not now, not when he was alive.

“Oh no, it makes it easier for you,” Death laughed. It sounded like a normal laugh. He would have expected it to sound like empty skulls battered together. “It’s all the same to me.”

Puffs of smoke coming at his face. Could almost feel it, could almost remember what cigarette smoke smelled and tasted like. But it was fading, it was all fading just like the colours around him. The memories turning to greyscale, to black-and-white, and he knew soon they will become nothing. Only Death remained unchanged. Its eye observing and clever, the voice — sweet, lulling even, but still laughing.

“Come with me,” the Stranger said, shaking off the ash. It never landed anywhere. “Let’s have a walk, shall we? Your last one.”

Oda shrugged. It was phrased as a question, but the answer was never required. After all,

what choice does a dead person have? Wordlessly, he followed the Reaper. There is no arguing with death.

“You look…ordinary,” Sakunosuke said to fill in the silence of everything around. His steps weightless and soundless just like everything about him. Death moving soundlessly just a step ahead. Tall and lean figure hidden in a massive black cloak. Dark cloth was floating as if in the air, as if there was any wind whatsoever.

Oda couldn’t even touch his own face. It was less than air, less than nothing. And worse, he couldn’t remember much of his own appearance. But he remembered some things still. He could recall places, objects, people. He remembered—

“People are ordinary,” Death answered, “but they expect their death to be something out of the ordinary. Strange that, I must say. So many talk about scythe or wings, skull faces or shapeless spirits, as if mortal minds could comprehend such ideas.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m saying, I am decided by you. Even seeing me is your decision.”

The dead man nodded, accepting the answer. Perhaps it was his doing. “Where are we going?” Oda asked, perplexed. The scenery slowly came to nothing but a smudge of greys and shadows. He still felt as solid as a dead person could. No face, no weight behind his steps, but something held him together from being sucked into that surrounding nothingness. Only the figure of Death was unchanging, boldly standing against the smears and stains. It was a bold ink stain signifying the end of the sentence. Everything else, however, was warping, changing, until reaching a state of disorienting void. There was no up or down anymore.

“You are quick to change subjects,” Death noted, begrudgingly. “You should see for yourself. It would ruin the surprise.”

“The surprise?”

“What? Many find their own deaths surprising,” the Stranger laughed, dropping the cigarette. It disappeared midair. “Have some fun, it is your last.”

“Hm, I guess,” he said, unsure of the meaning behind the words. Death spoke them, and Sakunosuke wasn’t a fool to think there was any room for bargaining. It was, undoubtedly, his last walk and yet why should he have a gift of knowing? Death reminded Oda of someone; someone he knew when alive. He remembered the face in a blur, the voice sounding too far away. But the name was escaping each time. Unable to grasp and hold that memory of someone, it was like catching fish barehand in a stream of memories that were passing.

Finally, the scenery started to take shape. The walls built up like a house of cards, the dull colours poured in, and the details filled in the blanks. Oda knew this place, the books scattered around the floor. Unlike the last time he was in here, the place didn’t smell of blood and death. Leaving it a perfect blank memory of a place with no attachment as to why the memory was formed. This was where Oda Sakunosuke killed for the last time, where he picked up that old book knowing nothing about. Nothing special about it but a weathered cover. One book was all it took to change a life.

“You know why I am here?” the Stranger asked, sounding unusually curious. One eye looking at him. The man couldn’t help but feel laughed at. Not in a malicious manner, no, it was akin to friendly joke at his expense.

“No,” Oda shook his head, eyes roaming around the room. He was searching for that book. It was the most important part of this memory. Finding it, he was the last to reach the book as Death snatched it.

“You must know,” it said. “You accepted me.”

It didn’t make finding the answer any easier. Sakunosuke simply didn’t know. A shot in the dark it was. “Are you here to judge me?”

“I am not a mortal, so I can’t do that,” Death shrugged. “It wouldn’t be fair or just for me to judge anyone. I never lived myself. What I am here for is to make you laugh at your own mortality. Or maybe I am here to be a magnificent jerk to you if you think you deserve punishment. Mortals make me a being and give me a face to understand me, to cope with me, to accept me. They give me character and appearance, sense of duty, or wickedness, even simply a job title. You make me a being, so you may not be alone and greet me as a friend.”

“I wasn’t alone when I died. There was—”

Death opened the book at a random page, somewhere in the middle of the story. “People live to save themselves.” Pale fingers quickly and soundlessly were turning the pages forward. Oddly, the Reaper took great care of handling the book. As if precious and fragile. As if a real thing.

“Don’t be surprised,” the Stranger smiled at him. “I am as much a part of you as you are a part of me. You were born, it was inevitable that you would die. I am not an opposition to life; I am but a part of a whole.” It knew what he thought or felt, how he would react. Of course, it knew. It had to. This was just a projection of his own expectations.

“I’m kidding,” Death said. “I can’t read.” It closed the book and offered it. Oda took it with great deal of caution. The feel of the cover, the smell of the paper, and the weight of it, he could swear it was real yet knew better than that. A memory quickly fading. Strange it was how the first thing he forgot was himself. Opening the book felt like remembering a dream long forgotten, gathering it piece by piece, detail by detail. He remembered the name of a story about a man who chose to stop killing because—

Oda didn’t see as the Death circled him. To be precise, he was too occupied to notice the soundless movements of the black figure. He couldn’t avoid the push of its hand against his chest. The force sent him down to the floor as the book disappeared in the air. Sakunosuke looked up. The Stranger standing above with one dark and unforgiving eye measuring him. Its sharp smile turned into an angry frown. He was wrong. It wasn’t the aura of a killer he recognized, but of someone who hated killers. He waited. Being already dead there was no harming him. But Death just stood there, looking down on him, as its expression slowly shifted to that of neutrality.

“I am no god’s middleman,” the Stranger said, offering a hand. Oda hesitated to accept help but, ultimately, what did he have to lose? He gave it up and accepted the loss when he was alive on that bridge. The touch wasn’t there, only action. The pale palm offering help, stunning in its whiteness against the black dress. And no feeling of touch. What warmth or coldness could Death offer? He got up from the floor as the scene started to fall apart bit by bit. The layers of the memory creating the memory pilling off. Nought but cherry blossoms lost in the wind. Then, came the previous void and absence of anything around. No up, no down.

“But you are Death,” the dead man stated calmly. Sakunosuke could stand to face the dark eye of Death staring back at him. It was soulless, true, but not dead. It wasn’t brimming with kindness. It wasn’t cruel either.

“I am,” it nodded in passive agreement. “But if there is god, it wasn’t born and isn’t alive. Not the way people are. There is no way for us to meet, no way for me to know. I don’t know what comes after me, if at all.”

Oda was wrong. The sense of familiarity didn’t come from recognizing a fellow killer or from the distaste it had for killers, he merely knew it all along. He had experienced it so closely, so often, he came to know it by subtle touch alone. Death was with him since the moment he was born: a silent companion, shadow of a friend. He knew it all along because he was once an assassin. He, too, was death. The thought pained him. Strange as he thought nothing could pain in the afterlife.

Death turned around and started to walk away again. There was once again a faint cigarette smoke trailing behind the black figure. The dead man followed, unhurried. Death couldn’t run away from him just as he couldn’t run away from it. The cigarette was thrown into the air, falling but never landing. As before, the scene started to form without any warning. The blank white papers flying together, coming together to bind together pages of a memory. It was aching to observe his life now. Not because he lost it but because he couldn’t truly relieve it. Just bound to re-watch it.

The café, the book, and him reading it. The man whose figure was shrouded, leaving only a silhouette for him to guess at. The man claimed to be the author. That was the man who told him to write a novel. Oda never got to do it. He couldn’t answer why either. One of the first things he forgot was himself.

“I like this memory,” Death said. “Sad to lose it.”

“Do you know who that man was?” Sakunosuke asked. The man who had changed a killer into a man who was only interested in living. He wanted to remember the name even for a second, but it refused to reveal itself.

“I do and I don’t,” the Stranger spoke softly, lamenting. “It will do nothing for you to know it now, truthfully.”

“Is this what is called ‘life flashing before my eyes’?”

“A life review, yes. Unfortunately, posthumous.”

The memory started to fall apart into a million paper scraps and offered nothing to soothe its passing. The papers flying chaotically around as if caught in a whirlwind. Oda could imagine the sound. But it was only his imagination, he knew. The Stranger was smiling fondly, silently watching it being torn into nothingness. The papers flying, flying away, disappearing. One of the million of scraps of the broken and fading memory landed in the Reaper’s hand.

“Yes, I am one and the same,” Death spoke, offering a scrap to him. “And, yes, I’ve met all of them. Or, to be precise, they’ve met me. Way too soon, too. But you already know that.”

“Were they—”

“I was as kind and as gentle as I could be.”

He accepted the words and the piece of paper. It was strange to be relieved by the words spoken by Death, more so to believe it wholeheartedly. The scrap contained an important paragraph from the book, explaining the reason why the assassin stopped killing. It made sense. It all made sense. And Sakunosuke remembered.

“We should go there first,” the Stranger said with certain melancholy. Soft and gentle, kind even — a perfect stranger.

The curry shop unfolded like a children’s pop-up book. Oda could almost smell the aroma of the curry and hear the children upstairs. He swore he could hear the steps on the second floor. But the Reaper placed its hand on his shoulder. “They are not really there, Odasaku,” it said. “You know that.”

The man nodded in understanding. Those were all his memories. Nothing else but his memories. An empty world of his own crumbling, fleeting memories. The faces he could still remember were turning blurry; the voices remembered were getting quieter and more distant. Fading, withering, wilting, dying. He was forgetting, he would forget. This was an end for him. And the names of the orphans were already forgotten. Their faces and voices he could still remember and vividly so. But those details wouldn’t last long. He was dead. And those memories will die with him. Oda Sakunosuke left nothing of value behind in the end. Or—

“Let’s go,” someone said. Oda heard but failed to recognize his own voice. The hand was till resting on his shoulder. It almost had weight to it, an important thing to ground him. It was him who wanted to leave the place he couldn’t go back to it. Once it held something precious, but it was taken away, stolen, ripped away. There was no returning, nothing to go back to. Not after what had happened, not after his own passing. The only thing left was the knowledge he had avenged them.

“As you wish,” the Stranger easily gave in. This change was unlike the previous ones. The scene didn’t fall apart or got erased. Like watercolour mixed, it sank in and transformed into something different. The mahogany wood, the bar stools, the stairway upwards. A replica of his past. Another place to never go back to. Where three people gathered, had drinks and talked about nonsense. Their silhouettes present for a moment. But only the one belonging to Oda Sakunosuke he could recognize.

Accepting his own death was easier than it should have been. It wasn’t something foreign and frightening. Death could never intimidate an assassin, didn’t scare him. But with it came immense loss, he knew. And he wasn’t sure the loss would be his. He could swear he wasn’t dying alone, his—

“I don’t think we should go to the last place,” Death said, forlorn. There was no hint of a smile on its lips. Its dark eye looking into the cigarette pack. Oda counted one left inside. Perhaps he could not name the last place, nonetheless, there was a keen feeling about it. A memory too painful, too fresh, too deep. It was still bleeding and throbbing, but the mechanism of the injury slowly forgotten. Just pain, dulled pain, forgotten pain….

Instead he came to sit on the bar stool. The situation too familiar, recalled to its fullest. A drink came to rest against his fingers on it own. He didn’t believe he could drink it. It had ice in it but never felt cold to touch. There was no sensation to it.

“You said you were but a face I gave you,” the man said, looking at half-full glass. “I am surprised you don’t look like me.”

The Reaper jumped on the bar counter. It started to look at its hands as if noticing them for the first time. It touched the pale face, the bandage hiding its other eye, hands sliding down the dark hair. It looked marvelled by its own appearance it could never know of. There was no recognition in those motions. Death didn’t have a face unless given. It couldn’t pretend to be something else unless prompted to. Death’s masks were decided by the dead, remaining forever in their servitude. If the dead were haunted by their lost lives, Death must be haunted by the living.

“Do I look interesting then?” the Stranger asked, sounding strangely delighted. It continued to be amazed by the prospect of having its appearance explained. “Who do I look like? Oh, you probably don’t recall much anymore. But do I look like someone you knew?”

Sakunosuke thought for a moment. Yes, it made perfect sense. He may not be able to recall the name, the face, the voice. But held no doubts about the nature of that person. One of the shrouded figures, without a doubt, belonged to that young man with a bandage around his eye.

“Yes, you look like a friend,” Oda said with a nod and relaxed sigh. The feeling he knew wasn’t a mistake. The feeling he knew Death already was aware of. The sense of a journey coming to an end. The glass and the drink disappeared in a time lapse of an old photograph losing its colour. Fading like an old photograph, with colours seeping out of it and shapes losing their sharpness. From barely recognizable to unfathomable, to blank, to nothing. Swiftly wiped, gone. It was nothing more than a warm breath on glass.

“What now?” Oda asked when the scene of the bar was eliminated. Death closed its eyes and made a few steps towards him.

“Strange one you are,” it said, showing teeth.

No, he thought. He wasn’t the strange one. There was someone he knew who was a true eccentric. Someone who was perplexing, and complex, and very wounded. Someone who reminded him of a child about to burst into tears. That someone was there, and he was—

“You didn’t believe in the kindness of the world,” Death continued, “but you were. You were kind.”

There was nothing he could say to that. Oda Sakunosuke was an ex-assassin and Port Mafia’s handyman. Kindness wasn’t a prevalent thing in the Mafia or assassination business. And the way he died — the way he chose to die — wasn’t about kindness either. It was about brutality and rage and grief. It was about vengeance; it was about giving up.

“There’s nothing more I can offer,” the Stranger said. “Nothing more to show you,” it reached out its arm, pale palm open for him to accept. “But…I can offer you my hand, believing in your grief.”

Oda shrugged again, accepting what little death could offer. Ah, finally he was able to finish the fleeting and interrupted thought. Oda Sakunosuke didn’t die alone, he had a friend. His friend was the very same odd young man. The man who gave Death his appearance, the man who looked like a child about to burst into tears at gunpoint. Sakunosuke said goodbye to his friend. Oda reached out to touch Death’s offered hand. The touch, perhaps, never happened.

When Death opened its eyes again, Oda Sakunosuke was gone. It threw away the last cigarette left continued on its way.

#yokelishtorturesenglish #bsd odasaku #oda sakunosuke and dazai osamu #oda sakunosuke #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines

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smokeybrand · 3 years

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This is the Good Life

I read a ton of manga. I find the content coming out of Japan to be far more genuine and creative than the sh*tshow comic industry we have here in the states. I’m not saying there isn’t good content to be found in the massive annals of Marvel and DC, i am in particular love with whatever the f*ck is going on with the X-titles right now, but that is the exception, not the rule. Japan is different. Even the most blatant shill of a cash-in has a unique spin to it. When the moe boom happened and we were inundated with slice of life fodder for a decades, shows like Higurashi, Toradora, Haruhi, Lucky Star, and basically anything out of Kyoto animation, were absolute masterpieces. Each tells a distinct story, adapting that cutesy art style to their respective strengths, and it worked beautifully. The homogeneity of formulaic content here in the US, isn’t really a concern overseas and that is a wonderful thing. It makes for amazing storytelling and a creativity freedom, even when awash in trend or fad. I say all of this to preface the fact that Kajiya De Hajimeru Isekai Slow Life is chef kiss levels of shine, even if it is a manga staunchly entrenched in the grating isekai fad.

Now, i say “grating” in the glib sense because i genuinely love the isekai genre. I have for decades, going back to Escaflowne, El Hazard, .Hack, and Rayearth. What i think most people are frustrated with, is the OP protagonist in these stories. You can only identify with some, overwhelming, power fantasy, so many times going into these tales. How do you frame that narrative? how do you keep it compelling? You don’t. Entries like Overlord and Tensei Shitara Suraimu Datta Ken do a great job avoiding that stagnation by building out the world around their ridiculously plot-armored mains but that doesn’t work all of the time. If you want a character driven narrative, you have to build great characters. You have to make your principal cast affable, flawed, and fun. I think that’s the strength in Kajiya De Hajimeru Isekai Slow Life. You almost immediately fall in love with the cast you’re going to sped all of your time with and that’s absolutely necessary because this story is as much about the world building as it is about the main cast, themselves.

Slow Life follows Eizo Tanya, who is hit by a truck in the process of saving a cat, who turned out to be an inter-dimensional god or something. Since the Kitty deity f*cked up and was almost “killed’, causing Eizo’s death in turn, it offers to reincarnate him into a brand new world with a mad overpowered cheat skill. Eizo gives it a thought and chooses - blacksmithing! You see, Eizo was a salaryman, bitterly unhappy with his life in the old times. He wanted, more than anything, to be able to work with his hands in the new world so, instead of asking for he power to be a Hero or some vicious Demon Lord, he just wanted the ability to make dope sh*t in the woods. Kitty Deity is a little surprised but grants Eizo his wish and, boom! We have the foundation for a pretty delightful romp. Stuff happens, Eizo gets a tiger wife and a dwarf apprentice. His craftsmanship is the best in the world and his tale toward legendary status begins.

The simplicity of this narrative is one that has a level of accessibility not found in most isekai. The simple desire of a man, overworked and looking to be fulfilled, to find value, in what he does with his life, really resonates with cats like me who have been in the workforce for decades. I left my job a year ago to pursue my dream of crating so i identify with Eizo’s passion to be more than just a cg in a machine. More than that, i love the way he is written. Eizo feels real, like a proper person lost in a world of fantasy and magic. The supporting cast is also amazing and decently developed. I immediately fell in love with tiger waifu, Samia. She is capable, tenacious, curious, and f*cking adorable. There isn’t a ton of groundwork about her past being laid but i have a feeling we’ll definitely get into that as the narrative develops and i can’t wait to see where that leads. Newcomer to the story is the dwarf apprentice, Riku Moritz. We haven’t had a great deal of time with her so far, but she comes across as a studious, knowledgeable, junior who yearns to be the best at her craft. She reminds me of Miles Morales from Into the Spider-Verse, to Eizo’s Peter B. Parker and i adore that type of dynamic. We are only a handful of chapters in, but this story seems like it has legs and i look forward to where it goes in the future. I’d say it’s a slow burn, but it really isn’t.

I was hooked from chapter one and a lot of that, aside from the great writing and developing character work, stems from the artwork. My, goodness, is Slow Life gorgeous! There is a purposeful elegance to how these lines and strokes come together. The line work is clean and precise, granting each panel thjust the right amount of detail hile staying true to the artist's personal vision. It's actually very refreshing to see. The style is very distinct and carries it's own, unique hallmarks, similar to Toriyama or Oda, but slightly more relaistic than those. I am absolutely in love with it. Like, i follow a few trash rags because the art is dope and immediately hooked me. Isekai Meikyuu de Dorei Harem Wo, Gunbured X Sisters, or Kouya Ni Kemono Doukokusu immediately come to mind, all decent in their own right, but it’s very obvious the strength of these entries lies in the art. True to form, it took a while for me to get into their respective narratives and, in all honesty, they’ve gotten pretty good but those first few chapters were a bit rocky. The art kept me coming back and now, these three are some of my favorite titles to read. Slow Life did not have that issue. The art immediately took my breath away. It felt like cracking open Tsugumomo, BLEACH, Lv2 kara Cheat datta Moto Yuusha Kouho no Mattari Isekai Life, Gleipnir, Meikyuu Black Company, or Isekai De Skill Wo Kaitai Shitara Cheat Na Yome Ga Zoushoku Shimashita: Gainen Kousa No Structure. That’s a lot of titles but i am a slut for great, unique, artwork and these entries hit my sweet spot immediately. I’m just lucky that the narrative accompanying them was enough to do the linework justice because it would have been a shame to abandon these titles over sheer ugliness. Slow life definitely dodged that bullet. It is, without hyperbole, some of the best looking manga I've seen in years.

Kajiya De Hajimeru Isekai Slow Life is absolutely amazing. It’s an easy read filled with exceptional art, deft character work, and a world that is both compelling and growing steadily. Eizo is a great protagonist, easily to identify with and none of the edgelord OP, baggage most Isekai protags tend to have. Samia is a delightful love interests who carries a quiet strength and enjoyable naivety, which immediately endears and Riku is just plain hilarious. This laid back narrative of a smith who just wants to make dope sh*t, while being dope to his tiger wife and faithful apprentice is an distinct palate cleanser in a world of power fantasy saturated, isekai, trash. I love this book and feel like more people should have eyes on it so, you know, got put your eyes on it. You won’t be disappointed. Also, all the other titles i specifically mentioned. They’re worth a gander, too, especially Isekai De Skill Wo Kaitai Shitara Cheat Na Yome Ga Zoushoku Shimashita: Gainen Kousa No Structure and Lv2 kara Cheat datta Moto Yuusha Kouho no Mattari Isekai Life. Them sh*ts is just plain lovable and have two more of these objectively bias essays forthcoming. But that’s for later, for now, go read all of Kajiya De Hajimeru Isekai Slow Life, right now! Is totally worth! Plus, Samia is f*cking adorable, man. Seriously, tiger waifu is best girl!

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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years

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This is the Good Life

#Kajiya De Hajimeru Isekai Slow Life #Manga

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amarabliss · 4 years

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Safe 4 - Nobunaga Oda/Military MC

I know not what I normally write for but i’m feeling way out of it, so enjoy if you like Ikemen Sengoku!

You were an active member of the military for many years and now you were in war torn Japan 500 years in the past. The lord protecting you dismissed your claims to understand what he was going through, but when you happen to peek at the war table you see many things that needed correcting…

Part 1 Part 2* Part 3

*Song played

Nobunaga looked out at the battlefield before him. Things had progressed faster then he anticipated, and it was all thanks to you, though it had cost him dearly in the end.

“You swore!” Your voice echoed in his ears as an image of your tearing face flashed through his mind.

“My lord…” He looked over to Hideyoshi who had a concerned look on his face.

“Everything is fine.” He told him confidently, “Are we on course?”

“Everything will be ready come morning.” Hideyoshi nodded watching him turn from the field “My lord?”

“Ask your question?” Nobunaga took a breath in watching his soldiers walk about the camp.

“…” His right hand stayed silent for a moment, “I’m worried about Y/N…she didn’t seem enthused to be here. Perhaps…we send her back with the messenger. She can return to Azuchi and guarantee that Ieyasu gets our orders.”

Nobunaga turned and looked at him, “Why would her discomfort matter?”

Hideyoshi looked at him surprised, “I…I didn’t mean…forgive me sir…I overstep.”

Nobunaga felt his jaw twitch before he looked away, “Do it…We don’t need anyone worrying over a woman when they should be focusing on the battle.”

“Yes, my lord, at once.” Hideyoshi left him alone walking toward the infirmary tent to find you. He gave a sigh of relief seeing you ripping up material to use as bandages, “Y/N…”

You looked up letting out a sigh, “Yes, you need something?”

“Actually…I’m hoping to help you.” He gave you a soft smile, “I’m sending you back with a messenger…you’re going to pass orders to Ieyasu and make sure he and Mitsunari come in a timely fashion.”

You made a face before looking down at the material in your lap, “Is this your idea or his?”

He frowned before kneeling down in front of you, “If truly matters…mine…”

You looked at him and nodded, “Okay…”

“What happened?” He reached out taking your hands in his stopping you from your task, “For weeks you two have been good for one another, and then…”

“He then he broke his word.” You told firmly eyes holding great saddness, “I won’t go into the details, but…I thought he was a better man…turns out I was wrong…”

“He had to have a good reason.” He watched you shake your head, “No please…listen…”

You looked at him as he sighed looking down before he looked back to your face, “Nobunaga is not a man who easily trusts anyone, and he has expressed that he believes in you. I have to believe that he had a good reason to do whatever it is he did, he always does. It may not seem like it…but he does…”

You sniffed looking away as you squeezed his hands, “You’re a good man Hideyoshi…but I can’t let this one go that easily…I don’t let my guard down a lot and for some reason I did around him, and he took away everything in an instant…”

You told him you would be ready when he needed you to leave before he left. He walked out feeling confused. His mind reeled as walked back to the war tent.

“Everything settled?” He looked up at Nobunaga who was looking at the map of movements.

“…” Hideyoshi felt a protectiveness grow inside of him “As well as it can be…”

Nobunaga looked at him, “What does that mean?”

“What did you do to her?” Hideyoshi stood in the entrance of the tent, “What did you do that betrayed her so much?”

He watched his lord stand up straight staring at him, “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, I think she respects you enough still to give you your privacy…” Hideyoshi looked away from him.

“I broke her trust. I told her I wouldn’t let her go home.” Nobunaga told him looking down.

“She wants to go home?” Hideyoshi questioned him looking surprised. He thought you were happy here.

“…she…” Nobunaga reached for a figure on the map, “she has people that need her…that depend on her…”

“I don’t understand…I thought… you agreed to let her…” Hideyoshi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t let her go.” Nobunaga told him crisply.

“And I’m sure you have a good reason as to why…but you should try and explain…” Hideyoshi began again.

“I need her!” Nobunaga’s voice raised and then softened as he placed the piece in his hand gently on the table, “I need…her…”

There is was. Hideyoshi knew then exactly what had happened. Though he knew Nobunaga would never be able to admit it to anyone but himself, “Possessing someone isn’t the same as needing someone…I don’t think for one second, Y/N, will allow you to possess her. She’s not an item…she’s a…genuine rarity…”

Nobunaga looked up as he went on, “Forcing her to remain…will only push her away and make her cold…She won’t be the same person we know now…”

Hideyoshi stepped over to the dispatch satchel taking into his hands, “I’ll send them on their way, if no objections sir?”

“Do it.” Nobunaga turned from him looking back at the movements.

“At once.” Hideyoshi bowed before turning to leave. He knew he struck a nerve. He only hoped it was enough to make his lord see reason. For yours and his sake.

Nobunaga hung his head thinking back to a few days prior. He had spent all morning with you discussing strategy and tactical movements. Then it all just fell apart so quickly…

“Personally…” Nobunaga watched you as you moved around the table pointing at the pieces on the map, “I wouldn’t go this way…you’re more likely to get ambushed.”

“And your suggestion?” He leaned forward watching you calculate possibilities. He felt his cheek twitch as you reached out moving the pieces.

“Take the bulk of the force this way…send a small force ahead along the other…” You were carefully moving his troops around trying to find the best way to save their lives while preserving his plan, “You will get a better idea of the enemy’s movements, while still beginning to move your forces. You sacrifice the element of surprise, but at the end of the day you will have a pincer option. Even if you do not use it and have them rejoin you, you’ll get a second wave of relief.”

He began nodding slowly taking the movement into consideration as he moved around the table to your vantage, “There’s a risk…”

“Of course, there’s a risk. War is risk.” You looked at him as he stood next to you, “The person who does nothing, does nothing.”

He looked at you a smirk coming to his face as you stepped away looking at the map again, “I still find it incredible that where you’re from allows you to be so bold.”

“Because I’m a woman?” Your eyes flicked up to him.

“No…” You both looked over to Mitsuhide stepping inside sly smile on his face, “Because you’re just a solider.”

Nobunaga followed him with his eyes as he stepped over toward you. You smirked looking at Mitsuhide. When did the two of you become so close? “And…soldiers are not supposed to make suggestions?”

You looked over to Nobunaga, “Generally not…”

“You see…” Mitsuhide reached over to move a piece, when his hand came back it landed on top of yours, “should a soldier want to speak over a general’s orders or ideas…it could mean two things. One, he’s very loyal and seeks to advance himself by taking the general’s position someday, or two, he seeks to undermine the general and take his position now.”

“Neither one of those sounds particularly honorable.” You made a face as he took your hand holding it palm up.

“Indeed, it is not…” Mitsuhide smirked as he began tracing your hand, “Such small hands…”

“Mitsuhide…” You both looked over to Nobunaga who had stood up straight and now held a tense serious look, “Have you come here with news?”

“No, I just happened to hear voices and thought I’d drop in.” Mitsuhide smirked looking at you, “You see I find it very inspiring to watch someone at work.”

“Go inspire yourself elsewhere…perhaps with our assassin friend.” Nobunaga moved around the table placing himself next to you as he stared into Mitsuhide’s eyes, “See if he has anything else to say.”

“As you command…” He bowed low before taking his exit.

Nobunaga flexed his hand that had balled up as you spoke, “All ways have to be on your toes with that one…”

He turned to you as you moved the piece Mitsuhide had moved back to its place, “Yes…he’s sly but efficient.”

“Not always a great combination.” You looked at him with a smile, “You’ll never know if you can truly trust him.”

“Our goals are aligned…as long as they remain so, we have nothing to worry about.” He watched you nod absently you hand went to your wounded side, “Does it bother you?”

You glanced down dropping your hand, “It’s tender, but fine. I can now add being poisoned to list of injuries I’ve attained over the years.”

“You’ve been injured before?” He looked at your curiously, “How?”

Your eyes widened a little surprised by his directness, “Well…uh…I’ve been shot, stabbed, blown up…uh…hit by a vehicle, broke a few bones…that’s the short list…”

“And the long list?” He stepped closer to you, you looked away, “You told me when you first arrived that wouldn’t keep things from me. That you would answer all my questions…”

“Yes…I did…” You wrapped your arms around yourself, a movement he found you did when you felt vulnerable, “There are just…some wounds I’d rather not discuss. They were traumatic enough…I’ll tell you, if you must know, but…”

You looked up to him smiling eyes full of sadness before you finished, “I hope you would be considerate enough to realize that not all things should be spoken aloud.”

It was instinct what happened next. His hand finding your cheek the contact making your eyes shut as you leaned into touch. He could feel heat rushing to your face under his fingers. He lowered his head to your ear as he whispered, “Those who have been touched by war the way we have…deserve all respect and consideration.”

Your eyes opened and you turned your face to meet his gaze, “Nobunaga…”

There was a look in your eyes that he couldn’t decipher. Something that wouldn’t move past your delicate lips. “Yes?”

You didn’t say anything for a long time as he let his presence wash over you. Your hand fell over his before you pulled it away kissing his palm, “Thank you.”

He reached for you as you turned away, catching your wrist in his burning palm, “That is the second time you’ve done that…it must have meaning.”

Your gaze was locked with his as he stepped closer to you. He could see your mind working to formulate an answer that would be sufficient, “It does.”

He let out a soft laugh before he took that final step making you bump into the back of the table. He smirked feeling your pulse race under his fingers, “You don’t really think that’s enough of an answer, do you?”

Your eyes flitted away for a moment before returning to his, “I had hoped…”

“I’m afraid not this time…” He whispered as his other hand reached up absently taking a loose piece of hair between his fingers.

You bit your lips together again looking away from him before you spoke quietly, “…it…it means I…care for you…”

“You…care for me?” He looked as surprise for a moment before confusion fell on his regal features, “You barely know me…why would you care for me?”

“Does it matter?” You looked into his eyes before shaking your head a little, “You’re enigmatic…”

He stood completely still as you went on, “You’re strong…smart…care about those around you, even though you’d never admit it. Despite everything I’ve put through from running away and fighting you tooth and nail that first week…you never once considered getting rid of me…so I stopped fighting and started talking to you…and I found…”

“What did you find?” He felt himself holding his breath for your answer when you trailed off.

You swallowed before you spoke with a smile, “Peace…I found peace and safety. More than I’ve felt in years…”

“And kissing my palm…that’s your way of letting me know?” He pulled your wrist up looking at your hand.

“It’s the only way I can…” You voice sounded strained making him look at you, “I’ve already told you…I don’t belong here. When it’s time for me to go…I don’t want…it…”

“Don’t want it to be…” He let go of your hair and let his finger trail down your cheek, “what?”

You shut your eyes involuntarily at his touch, “Why is it important for you to know?”

“Because…if you’re to leave me…” He leaned forward toward your hand he held brushing his lips against your palm, “I want to know I did everything to make it harder for you.”

Your eyes sprung open with surprise, “Harder?”

“I don’t want you to go…” He whispered before pressing your hand against his face, “You’re my lucky charm after all…so tell me, you don’t want it to be…what?”

“…difficult…messy…” Your other hand took hold of his haori, “I don’t want to leave a trace…”

“It’s too late for that…” He let go of your wrist moving his arm around your waist, “You saved my life twice now. You given me no choice but to feel something for you…”

The surprised moan that escaped you when his lips met yours set his mind afire. He expected you push him away and tell him no, but you didn’t. In fact, you seemed as if you needed him as much as he needed you.

He pulled away to look at your face. Your eyes were dark with passion it was beautiful. He shook his head before he spoke, “I can’t let you go.”

“What?” You blinked looking at him, “But…you said…”

“I did…but now I can’t.” He took a step away from you looking away from you, “You’re too valuable to lose…”

“We had a deal…” You shook your head, “I can’t stay here…I don’t belong…”

“But you do.” He looked back to you his face becoming serious, “At my side…”

“Nobunaga…” You frowned and he could see the trust that you had built with him was shattered.

“We’re done for today…” He turned from you heading for the exit.

“No!” You moved in front of him putting a hand in his chest, “You can’t do this…please…”

“It’s already done…” He shook his head as he attempted to move around you. You stayed in his way and he sighed, “Move or be moved.”

“You swore…” You whispered to him tearing up. He focused on his breathing to make sure he didn’t show any emotion, “You said you understood the need to get back to those who depend on me. You told me if I cooperated you would let me go. Why…why break that?”

He shook his head, “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

He tried to move around you, but you stepped in his way again. He scowled before he leaned forward in a swift motion scooping you up onto his shoulder. You let out a growl as struggled with him. He grunted as he felt you hit his back.

He set you down and out of the way before he turned to leave again only pausing when you spoke, “I will not make this easy for you!”

His mouth opened slightly but he didn’t turn around. He pushed himself forward leaving you alone in the war room and proceeded to make his way to the tenshu. On the way he saw Hideoyoshi and instructed him to keep you busy over the next few days.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” Hideoyoshi questioned him.

“Yes…everything will be fine.” He told him before retiring.

Everything was not fine. He let out a heavy sigh before he walked out of the war tent. As he moved toward his tent he stopped seeing you readying a horse.

As you felt him staring at you, you looked up meeting his eyes. He felt a chill rush through him as you stared him down. Hideyoshi was right, you wouldn’t simply succumb to be a trophy for him. You were not a thing to be placed on a shelf.

Yet he desired you so much it pained him. He had tasted you on his lips and since then had no rest. He turned from your gaze walking away. Pride…would make him a lonely man.

#safe #nobunaga #nobunaga/mc #nobunaga oda #nobunaga oda mc #nobunaga mc #military mc #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku imagine #nobunaga oda/mc #nobunaga/reader #nobunaga reader #hideyoshi toyotomi #mitsuhide akechi

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xruffyx · 4 years

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I WANT KATAKURI TO BE MUGIWARA, BUT...:

DISCLAIMER! Before I say anything, please keep in mind that these are my personal subjective observations. I am not stating anything.

I just wanted to say some of the things that I thought about one of the greatest characters so far -- Charlotte Katakuri. In particular, whether he would make sense being a part of the Mugiwara crew.

So first, Katakuri’s past perfectly matches to be one of the crewmembers. Growing up in the anti utopic world the second Charlotte’s son was greatly mentally abused and bullied by others for having a scary mouth. While at first, he did not care how people treated him, he later realized that his beloved people, like Brulee, could get hurt! However, taking into account that he is the second son and the strongest man, why would Kata still hide his mouth? I think that he is traumatized by being horribly treated that he cannot just simply reveal his “true” self to other people. That being said, all Mugiwaras had a tragic story. He never really did anything evil in his past because... he is not evil.

Secondly, Katakuri’s personality fits for Mugiwaras -- he is generous, loyal, caring, noble...and funny. Usually, whenever Oda would show an asshole, he would make a character kill/kick others for a no valid reason. Katakuri, even though his personal cooks brought him a cold tea, just calmly accepted it. The only reason why he killed those servants is that his privacy was violated by Luffy and he got out of himself. The proof is that Luffy could attack him because he was not calm to see the future! Though that does not make him evil (Franky also beat Usopp really badly).

Katakuri wants to protect his family, despite how he is treated (ex: Flambe), and that is the only motivation he needs. He cares for everyone’s safety. Then Katakuri does not like fighting dirty; when he found out that Flambe cheaply helped her brother to hurt Luffy, despite how much he cares about his fragile true self, he was not afraid to even everything, by stabbing himself and revealing his look. Katakuri is not selfish and shows respect to those who deserve it.

I can even imagine this scene between Luffy and Katakuri, which could be identical to the one between Pudding and Sanji. Katakuri, telling Luffy that his mouth is scary, but the Mugiwara instead says that it is cool. Eventually, they could become friends...

BUT... why doesn’t it work?

The most obvious thing I can think about is that each member of the Straw Hat crew has a specific role: Luffy - the captain, Zoro - the captain’s right hand, Nami - the navigator, Sanji - the cook, etc. Katakuri is the general of Charlotte’s family, which probably means that, besides being strong, he probably has some leadership and tactical skills. Though this is Zoro’s place; the swordsman always protected his captain’s honor and sometimes he would be the voice of truth (ex: after Ennies Lobby it was Zoro who told everyone that Usopp must apologize to return). If Katakuri would join, then Zoro would lose his value as a Strawhat member. - Since the beginning, Zoro was always second to Luffy in terms of the power. I don’t think that there is a huge power gap between the two of them (I even think that Zoro is stronger than Luffy in certain situations and vice-versa). Zoro is basically the muscles. If Katakuri joins, it is most likely that he is as strong or even stronger than Zoro. Hell, he even has the same type as Zoro -- both of them appear very serious but in reality, they have their quirks. Also, Sanji is weaker than Zoro for the simple fact that he is a cook; mostly he spends his time cooking and sometimes training, while the swordsman constantly trains. There is no way for Sanji to catch up on Zoro’s pace of training. Plus, Sanji’s primary objective is to feed everybody, not to protect his melorine crewmates. - Katakuri is simply as dominant as Luffy. I cannot really imagine Katakuri being submissive nor Luffy. I do not even think that Luffy is actually stronger than him? He was lucky that Brulle was nearby so he could chill for 10 min to restore his Haki powers. Seriously, Katakuri could’ve killed Luffy many times. Even when he fell on his back, Katakuri probably did this on purpose. Why would he ask if Luffy would come back to defeat Big mom? Either because he wants Luffy to become stronger and fight him again some other time or he does not fully agree with what Big Mom does (he has experienced the flaws of her “utopia”) and perhaps Luffy would change that.

The other reason is that all Mugiwaras have their own motivation to join Luffy. We do not really know what Katakuri wants. Thinking about new crewmates - Jimbe and Carrot (possibly) - both of them are perfect. Jimbe knows how to best sail (Franky is only good at building ships and maintaining Sunny! That does not make him a good sailor!) and he wants Luffy to become the pirate king. Carrot never saw the world outside (her objective) and she could be a... “squire”?

To conclude, Katakuri has the potential to become a Mugiwara due to his backstory and personality. However, he still lacks any reason why would he want to leave Big Mom and what he wants to do for himself. If Katakuri would join, then it would mess Zoro’s role in the crew and bring chaos, rather than support and additional aid to them.

I really do like Katakuri. I love his wonderful relationship with complicated dynamics with himself and his family. Seriously, I never really liked secondary characters (there are some but I do not tend to think much about them). Katakuri is really well made detailed. I wish I could get more of him in the future.

#just my thoughts #my thoughts #about katakuri #pls don't read

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eirist · 5 years

Text

A Taste of Summer

LAZY, HAZY, COZY NIGHT

One-shot #: 2

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: M (Suggestive & Itty Bitty Naughty)

Note: Entry for the #ZoNaSummerFestival event. Theme: Yukata.

Summary: “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami.”

Nami blinked uncertainly as she stared at the unfamiliar surroundings and a frown appeared on her face.

Where in the world is she? Did she get lost? Whoa!

She’s very sure that this is not the corridor that leads to the room she and Robin are sharing for the night.

For one, she clearly remembers being surrounded with the seemingly endless shoji screens in the area where their sleeping chambers are located.

And there is certainly no open space complete with an exquisite garden and a small pond basking in the silvery glow of the moon anywhere near where she’d come from earlier.

The sound of a souzu’s bamboo hitting the rock reached her ears. Turning towards its direction, she confirmed that this is not where she’s supposed to be.

Yep. She’s lost.

How is that even possible?

She probably made a wrong turn earlier. What she initially thought was a small, humble inn… it was a false impression… the place was humongous.

No wonder those pirate fiends they fought earlier made it their base.

The Straw Hats had docked on this island earlier and the survey group (namely Luffy, Usopp and Chopper) that scouted it cheerfully proclaimed that they saw a local inn in the mountains where they can take a ‘mini-vacation’.

Kami knows how much they need it. They’ve been doing a lot of fighting these past few weeks that its bound to push every single one of them hurtling towards insanity.

As their captain yapped about their ‘vacation time’, they all trudged uphill since said inn is in a high point overlooking a humble village.

When they arrived there, they met face to face with a really unpleasant and vicious pirate crew called the Goldiggers.

Said crew have been terrorizing the area for a month now, raiding and stealing from the townspeople in the village for sport and had made the inn their ‘headquarters’, much to the dismay of the elderly couple who runs it.

They had successfully driven out the outrageous group of ruffians. Poor pirates who haven’t heard of the names: Mugiwara no ichimi, Straw Hat Luffy and Pirate Hunter Zoro for starters.

And much to the delight of Nami, an aging map was left behind as the Goldiggers departed in panic as if the devil himself were on their heels.

That’s when they learned that the other pirate crew’s main objective for staying in the island was to hunt for treasure.

Which the navigator straightaway assigned as tomorrow’s mission… and the others know very well not to contradict.

The elderly couple, who was really thankfully that they’ve driven out the hooligans, offered to accommodate them in the inn for as long as they like… or until they were able to successfully find the treasure (Nami was adamant that they will not leave until they find it and haul it back to the Sunny—log pose locked or not—or heads will roll).

So tomorrow is going to be one heck of an adventure… and she should rest for her to be in tip-top shape for the treasure hunt.

That is… if she can find where their room is.

She felt her head droop sideways involuntarily.

That’s it! She had way too much sake. Not that she’s a light drinker, but they did party raucously and Franky kept shouting ‘kampai’ and they kept drinking toast after toast.

If she was feeling the first brushes of inebriation, then there would be no hope for the rest of her nakama.

Well… except Zoro. She could probably submerge the swordsman in a tub filled with alcohol and he will climb out of it still completely sober and asking for more.

She shivered a bit when a soft breeze blew by. Her wet yukata was clinging to her body tightly and she rubbed her arms a little for warmth. Their hosts had explained that the island is mercilessly hot during the day but it gets cooler once night-time rolls in.

Maybe that impulse to midnight skinny dip in the onsen was a bad idea.

But the steamy water was so tempting. Not to mention it offers a damn spectacular view of the sea—even in the dark of the night—that she can’t help but take the opportunity to submerge herself in it and relax by herself while the rest of her nakama partied and drank themselves to oblivion.

It was refreshing. But the combination of sake and a calming bath was making her lethargic.

She woozily made her way across the wooden floor, forcing herself to find her bearings. But it looks like her brain had already fallen asleep before her.

Thank Kami they had the place all to themselves. She can probably pass out in one of the many empty rooms; the inn had enough to accommodate each Mugiwara after all.

Up ahead she saw one of the shoji doors facing the pond garden was slightly ajar. Moving closer, she decided to peek inside out of curiosity when it slid open completely nearly making her fall on her ass from surprise.

“Eep!”

“Nami?”

The voice unmistakably belonging to their swordsman called her name.

“Zoro?” She queried in return. “You scared the crap out of me!”

The green-haired lad raised an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” She said with a frown. Then she burst into giggles. “You are lost aren’t you?”

Zoro scowled at her. “No I’m not idiot woman. This is our room.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sharing it with the other morons. But seems like they’re all too drunk to make or crawl their way here.”

She threw back her head and laugh. Zoro’s possibly correct. It was unnervingly silent considering that it was the Mugiwaras who are in the vicinity. The others are probably dead asleep or dead drunk back in the room where they’ve been celebrating.

“So you are not lost?”

A vein popped on Zoro’s forehead. “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami,” he pointed out. “Your room is on the other side.”

It should’ve been a hilarious moment… Zoro pointing out the correct directions to the navigator… if not for the fact that Nami was just staring dumbly at him.

He sneaked a closer look on her flushed face and realized that she had one too many.

“Oh…” was all she could muster after a few seconds of spacing out. “Why do you have the room with a nice view?”

Zoro did not answer her and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Then he noticed the water droplets making small puddles on the floor.

He scrutinized her thoroughly. “Why are you wet Nami?”

She snickered. “Thought it would be fun for a midnight dip.”

He stared at her disbelievingly. “You’re crazy.”

“Am not! Feels good after all that sake.” She was looking a bit dazed, blinking slowly and groggily.

Zoro sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you out of that.”

“Pervert.”

“OI! Don’t lump me on the same category as ero-cook.”

“You want me naked.”

The green-haired man blushed. “Not for the reasons you’re thinking,” he huffed. “I just don’t want Chopper in my case ok? I’d be getting it if you turn up sick because I let you sleep in that.”

He turned his back on her and marched inside the room. Nami stayed outside watching him, swaying a bit as the mixed effects of sleepiness, alcohol and the hot bath took its toll on her.

“Besides, we still have to look for that treasure of yours tomorrow right?”

Nami smiled widely at that.

“There’s a spare yukata here,” Zoro explained as he went back to her, brows furrowing as he watched her start to fall asleep on her feet. “Use this,” he ordered, offering her a dark green robe. “Might be a little too big for you though.”

“Thanks Zoro,” she smiled sassily at him.

“Hnn...”

“Shiawase punch,” she sing-songed as she untied the belt of her yukata, dropping the robe down the floor.

Zoro blanched as all the blood in his head went somewhere lower as she stood in front of him in all her naked glory.

Damn if that didn’t get him into thinking things he wants to do to her.

“Nami!” He instead hissed through gritted teeth, turning his blind side towards her to avoid seeing more than he should. Even if she was shamelessly flaunting all her assets in front him, he refused to ogle like their resident perverts out of respect, though to be honest, it was really tempting.

Realizing that she was standing outside for all the living souls to see, he pulled her inside while keeping his eye on the floor as she sniggered at his reaction. “What the hell woman! Get in here!”

Sliding the shoji doors shut, he shoved the yukata at her before turning away to compose himself. “Get dressed you crazy witch!”

She had the gall to pout at him. “You’re no fun,” she complained but did what he ordered her, sliding her arms inside the sleeves and wrapping the garment around her. She tied the belt loosely and announced, “I’m charging you for peeking Zoro!”

“The hell you are! You’re the one who undressed suddenly in front of me!” Zoro rubbed a hand on his face out of frustration. She could very well be the death of him.

He will have that image ingrained in his mind and it will not make things easy for him.

“Zoro it’s too big!” Nami complained as she poked at his arm, prodding him to look at her.

He glanced at her warily, carefully, in case she decides to subject him to her happiness punch again.

To his relief, she had donned the garment, but it was slipping down a bit that it gave him a glimpse of her shoulders… and her cleavage.

“Just tie it tightly Nami.”

“Afraid to see me naked?”

“Shut up! And you know what? Just go to sleep ok?”

“You’re such a grouch Zoro.”

“Hey! Gratitude witch. Want me to throw you outside? You can sleep in the pond for all I care!”

“Mmmm…”

She did not answer anymore and just settled down on one of the futons on the floor.

He watched as she burrowed herself on the soft mattress not even bothering with the cover duvet. She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes closed.

Zoro sat down a near her. She was mumbling something about teasing, treasure and tomorrow. He snorted. Typical Nami.

He had planned on drinking some more sake while enjoying the view outside when Nami appeared earlier. Perhaps, he still can. He slid the shoji doors open, taking care not to let too much moonlight in lest it wakes the mapmaker.

And he let himself enjoy the sake, the momentary peace, the view, while observing the orange-haired girl every now and then as she slept.

He ran a hand through his hair. Nami can be a handful. It’s tiring to deal with her that’s why most of the times he tries to stay clear of her. But there are moments when he enjoys her company… if it weren’t twisting his stomach into knots and making his heart beat fast.

Lately, they both seemed to be standing on the same ground of attraction. Both had been tiptoeing on how to handle the mutual affection they’re feeling.

That naked stint of hers is just one of the many ways to confirm what he wouldn’t outright admit.

He casually glanced at her and swallowed. She looked enticing, even more when she’s sleeping this contentedly. Her yukata had ridden up, exposing the soft skin of her thigh. The garment was open just enough to give him a glimpse of her generous cleavage as well as the curves of her breast.

Damn it all. Even sleeping, Nami was still trying to tempt him.

And if he wasn’t a man of discipline, he would have her splayed wide on that futon, moaning his name.

He shook his head and decided to call it a night.

Sliding the shoji doors closed, he covered her up with the duvet before lying down on one of the futons at the other end of the room. Far away from her.

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

Zoro woke up to the feeling of warm breath tickling his chest.

His good eye flew wide open when he realized what was causing it.

Someone was cuddled beside him.

He looked down and his eye met with orange hair and it dawned onto him that Nami was now sleeping beside him with an arm draped casually over his waist, her face almost buried in his chest.

What is she doing so close to him? She was three futons away from him and in the other end of the room.

Did he move towards her?

He looked around and saw that he was still in the same place where he decided to lie down earlier.

So that means…

Nami deliberately moved closer to him.

He drew back a little and Nami groaned at the movement.

“Stop wiggling, Zoro. I’m sleeping,” she murmured.

“What are you doing Nami?”

She sleepily looked up to his face, taking in his confused expression.

“I transferred here...”

“Why?!”

“It’s a bit drafty. And you are warm,” she answered dozily. “Now shut up.”

“Nami…”

“What?” She asked irritably. The stared at each other for a few seconds; him—unamused, while she—a bit peeved off at his reaction.

Then she snorted. “You let Momonosuke’s sister snuggle beside you to sleep. What’s the difference if I do it?”

Zoro stared at the top of her head and sighed in exasperation.

“Well for starters, she’s not almost naked beside me,” he pointed out.

Nami gripped the front of his robe. “I am not naked idiot. I’m wearing something.”

“But you are underneath that.”

Silence hovered over them, as Nami glared at him.

“And she’s not making me feel weird,” he admitted.

This time she tilted her head to see his expression much better. “And I do?”

He nodded.

“Is it a good weird or a bad weird?”

Zoro shrugged.

Nami pulled back a little. His answer was really vague and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe she was reading a bit too much than what is actually there between them.

She was about to push off away from him when his hand went to her nape, stopping her.

His lone, grey eye stared straight into her brown ones. “She’s also not making me want to do this,” he muttered, pressing his lips on hers softly.

And Nami inhaled sharply at the sensation. The hand that was resting on his waist gripped his yukata tightly

Zoro pulled away to study her reaction. She was looking at him with half lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted. He moved his head down to claim her lips again, this time for a much deeper, longer kiss.

Nami smiled against his mouth and he reluctantly pulled away.

“Anything else I make you want to do that she doesn’t?” She asked in a hushed tone

“Yeah,” Zoro answered breathlessly.

“Well what are you waiting for? We’ve got the whole night.”

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zona fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #ZoNaSummerFest #ZoNaSummerFestival #roronoa zoro #nami

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ikesenhell · 5 years

Text

New Heights

GLITTER & GOLD, CHAPTER 6. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Violence tw. Guns, general discomfort, implied death.

There was no such thing as a rivalry in the post-apocalyptic landscape--just varying factions all trying to survive, same as the next. That didn't make the relationship between Waŋblí Hoȟpi and Kasugayama any better. They didn't contend for resources or fight over territory. The answer was much simpler.

It just so happened that, out of all the people in the world, Shingen Takeda, Kenshin Uesugi, and Nobunaga Oda all hated one another.

The reason was as petty as it was significant: Nobunaga was abrasive. Kenshin Uesugi didn't respond well to being abraded. Shingen Takeda didn't respond well to what he perceived as pompous behavior. Together, the trio mixed about as well as oil and water, and very little ever assuaged that. The only thing that came between their mutual dislike of each other was the collective welfare of the plains settlements.

This happened to be one of those times.

They arrived on horseback around mid-morning, their saddlebags thick with papers and plans. Only four came: the two leaders of Kasugayama and their respective experts, Yukimura and Sasuke.

“So,” Masamune asked, watching the four exchange awkward greetings with the Waŋblí Hoȟpi leaders, “Which do you think is the mechanical engineer?”

She grinned up at him. “Do we want to go stereotypical, or a serious guess? Cause my guess is on the nerdy one.”

“You’re right, Kitten, that is stereotypical.” He kicked back against Ieyasu’s porch and worked his hands over the worn wooden steps. “When do you think they’ll bring up the ship?”

“I can’t imagine it’s high on the priority list. Well--” She paused. “Unless it’s been raiding their settlement, too?”

“We didn't get that on the list.”

“Did you ask?”

They hadn't. Masamune mulled over this before pressing on. “Well, then in that case, we should bring it up even sooner. I told Mitsunari to drag me in when they start talking about it, so hopefully that’ll be sooner rather than later.”

---

It was much, much later when Mitsunari rapped on the front door. Fortunately, Masamune was waiting. He slung on a jacket and followed the man to the office. The familiar long table was stacked with polaroids of the ship, each copied in triplicate and laid out according to angle. Apparently, she’d been right. The settlement leaders were all gathered around, but the most invested was clearly Mitsunari and Sasuke.

“This ship,” Sasuke was saying, bent double over a photo, “It just emerges without warning?”

“As best we know.” Mitsuhide settled into a chair and crossed his arms. “We’ve never gotten one.”

“Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.”

Masamune rapped his knuckles against the table by way of greeting. “It’d be a lot cooler if people weren’t vanishing or dying cause of it.”

Sasuke nodded vigorously, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “Naturally. My apologies if it sounded insensitive; it’s simply fascinating, given the network of things at play here.”

Mitsunari paused. “Has anyone vanished from Kasugayama?”

Shingen stirred in his seat. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with rugged good looks. “We’ve had a few, but we didn't connect it to this. Our disappearances seem more attached to a sudden surge of these religious types outside the boundaries.”

“Then it’s connected,” Nobunaga announced gravely. “We’ve been dealing with much the same.”

“Oh good.” Kenshin finally spoke up. By all definitions of the word, he was a beautiful man--blonde hair, bright eyes, sharp features. “Then Shingen will stop objecting to me having them run out of town.”

Shingen didn't rise to the bait. Instead, Sasuke cut through the noise with a matter-of-fact tap against one photo in particular. “This is all very fascinating. I’d presume the ship existed before all this. Local lore springs up to explain its presence. Religion sprouts in its wake. All this over such a simple simulation.”

The room fell silent.

Masamune lifted his hand. “A what.”

Sasuke realized--perhaps too late--that he was the bearer of news. He plunged into explanation. “It’s a simulation. You see, if you arrange these photos by timestamp--”

Mitsunari caught on next. “Then every fifteen to eighteen seconds, it indicates part of the hull is missing in particular sections. You can see it on the leftmost and rightmost sections, though it is blurry.”

Shingen and Mitsuhide quietly slid copies over to follow along. Sasuke snapped his fingers at Mitsunari as if to say ‘you got it’. “The motion blur makes it difficult to spot.”

“But how?” Mitsunari continued. “To make such a complex simulation occur without casting it over something--that would require technology we haven’t seen since the war. Besides that, it would take quite a vantage point…”

Mitsuhide snapped his fingers, tossing down the photo. “The turbine field.”

It made sense as soon as he said it. The wind turbine field was a well-known scavenging spot. Almost all of the spare parts for generators in Waŋblí Hoȟpi came from there. Masamune felt his stomach lurch. How close had they been all this time?

Ieyasu huffed. “How would we have missed it?”

“It’s in the turbine,” Masamune announced, realizing it all in one. “One of the functioning ones. It’s how it has power. It’s connected to the turbine.”

“Masamune,” Hideyoshi started, “Masamune, no--”

Too late. Masamune turned on his heel and jogged from the room. Down the steps he ran, out into the dark streets. If they were right--if they were right!--they could end this tonight--

“Woah, tiger! Where are you going?”

Masamune skidded to a halt only seconds before impact, but he didn't stop. He scooped her up into his arms and flung her over his shoulder, ignoring her squeal. “You feel like a climb, Kitten?!”

“Masa! Put me down!”

He obeyed, setting her on his motorcycle and digging for two helmets. “We’ve got a mission. It might stop the whole damn thing. Are you with me?”

She didn't even wait for an explanation before jamming the helmet on her head. “Just fill me in while we’re going, won’t you?”

---

Moonlight streamed down on the field. The ancient remains of pylons towered in the echoing plains, overgrown blades lying in discarded heaps. Long ago they’d decided not to what was left for power; they’d never been entirely certain of the integrity of the remaining turbines. Instead they’d languished. In the dark, they looked more like the ruins of a temple made for giants.

Masamune puttered to a halt on the outskirts. With the engine off, nothing but the swell of silence remained.

“Fucking creepy,” he muttered.

“Tell me about it,” she agreed, dismounting. “Which one is it?”

“Dunno. I figured we’d wait for the wind to kick in and see which ones still work out of the standing. There’s only five--”

“Five to search, if they all work,” she shot back. “That’s a lot of climbing to do. We don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

She had a point. “Any ideas?”

But she just sighed and shook her head. “Short of waiting for the ship to come around and seeing if the light projects out one? I’m not sure.”

“My plan it is.” Masamune shook out his hair. “Come on. Let’s go.”

As if on cue, the wind raced up behind them, swirling through the grass and echoing between the columns. Two turbines turned in response. It was now or never. Reaching behind him to her, he linked his hand in hers and squeezed.

“You good, Kitten?”

She squeezed back. “I’m fine.”

The dry prairie grass cracked underfoot. They picked past rubble and rusted parts, old vehicles abandoned to nature. In the moon, bright red paint glinted off one the abandoned pylons, reading: GODS COME FOR THE FAITHFUL.

In the distance, a faint light fluttered.

Masamune froze first. Her breath hitched behind him.

“Do you think--?” She whispered.

“Possibly.” He paused, groping himself for a machete that he knew he’d left at the motorcycle. Did they turn back? No--he realized there was too much wide open space between them and their exit now. There was only one alternative: hide.

Together they charged for the nearest functioning turbine. A dog bayed nearby. Laughter and conversation ghosted over the wind. Masamune tried the handle of the service entrance, but it was shut too tight to budge.

“Shit,” he mumbled, rolling up his sleeves. “This is gonna be loud.”

One, two, three--he lifted his leg and kicked in the metal door frame. The distant flashlight roved in their direction. Desperate, he yanked at the jammed handle. It screeched free. “Go, go, go!”

More barking. Someone shouted. She dove in first, Masamune sharp behind her. The inside was tiny and cramped, only enough space for two and the ladder up.

And oh--that ladder certainly went up. He couldn’t see where it ended, but no doubt it went up through the whole turbine.

“Shit,” he repeated. “Go.”

He didn't have to tell her twice. She leaped onto the ladder and scaled it to the first level, going as fast as she could manage. Masamune crouched by the door and sifted through the dust until he found a wrench. Good enough. As if on cue, the door started opening.

Well. Better to handle it on his terms.

In one fluid motion, he wrenched open the door. One very surprised looking man--the same cultist from the store!--weaved on the spot, rifle in hand and backup outside. Masamune took no chances. He snatched the rifle barrel downward and swung the wrench up into the man’s jaw. Crack! The cultist howled, and Masamune slammed the door shut in his face, taking the rifle.

“Come on!” She shouted from the next level. “Hurry!”

Masamune slung the gun over his shoulder and charged up the ladder. A flurry of blows landed against the thin metal door. It was only a matter of time before they cracked it open. Up, up, up he went, clambering onto the next level just as they breached inside. A gunshot ricocheted off the wall. Masamune checked the chamber of his rifle and counted two bullets. Only two shots. Great.

Someone fired off another shot. Behind him, he heard the rattle of metal and watched her heft a toolbox over the edge, handily knocking someone from the ladder.

“Nice one!” Masamune pushed her toward the next ladder. “Now go!”

Up, up, up they climbed, their pursuers close behind. Each progressive level just got smaller. What would they do when they reached the top? What lay in wait for them? Masamune didn't know. Instead he focused on covering her escape upward, saving those two precious bullets.

And then they were there.

There was a very small light at the top. It hung dimly over the rotor, hundreds of years of ‘on’ leaving it faint and brittle. Still it was something. She leapt onto the landing and immediately negotiated her way around the spinning engine, the dull roar echoing through his chest.

“Careful!” He shouted.

“Got it!”

BANG! Another shot. Masamune hissed a curse and slung himself over the ledge, preparing himself for whatever came next. She shimmied her way into the narrow crevice at the front.

This was it.

The first man made it over the edge, and Masamune picked him up by his shirt and shoved him bodily off. His scream echoed, cut short by the BANG of his body hitting the next level below. More shots. He wondered how much ammo they possibly had.

“Here!” She called. “I found it! I found it!”

Masamune hissed a prayer and slid back beside her, narrowly dodging the sharp wheels of the engine. A very slight hole protruded in the front of the turbine. Sure enough, there it was--a small box, caked in grime and dust. Pre-war tech, no doubt about it. She cradled its plastic frame in her hands and peeled it from the ledge, dusting off its surface. A small note was taped to the top.

“ARK,” she read, tapping the line beneath it. “And some coordinates.”

A thousand questions popped to mind. There was time for none of them. Behind them, the ladder rattled again. Masamune wheeled around and lifted the rifle just in time to confront the newcomer: bang! He shot off the ledge. One bullet left. Another man came over the edge and Masamune fired, narrowly missing.

Nothing for it. He hurled the useless weapon at the assailant, catching him off guard long enough to grab him by his collar and shove him face-first into the rotating wheels of the engine. The scream echoed; Masamune punted him off the edge as well, breathing hard. Silence.

“Let’s go,” he urged her, waving her along. “Bring the projector. We have a second’s opening.”

Going down was almost harder than going up. They skipped as many spokes as they could, rushing through the interior. Down, down, down--they made it to the landing and Masamune breathed.

It was premature.

The door kicked open. There, gun at the ready, was another few cultists. They screeched to a halt, the projector poised between them.

“Hands up,” snarled the leader. “And down on your knees.”

There wasn’t a choice.

Slowly, uncertainly, Masamune obeyed the directions. Another man swept in and cuffed their hands behind their backs, wresting the projector from her arms.

“What now?” She asked. “Do you shoot us?”

“Shoot you?” The first of them repeated. “No. You’ve angered the Messenger. We’ll take you to him instead.”

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen post-apocalyptic Au #Ikesen Masamune #G&G #Glitter & Gold #New Heights #My writing #violence tw #blood tw #death tw

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odissey061 · 4 years

Text

Motonari's route

Chapter(s) posted:

1. This freak won't have me

2. Kick him in the teeth

Please, teach me a better way to create link because I can't do it by myself

Chapter 3: This trick never worked at human's memory

Tag: @towa-no-yume @r-f-a-journalists

When I open my eyes the first thing I feel is an acute headache: the hands run through the hair until I discover a bump. I press it to see if I feel the pain and then I whimper like a baby: it hurts a lot. Why I'm so stupid? I take a look around me and I notice I'm in a cold and empty cell. The room is surrounded by three wooden walls and before me there's an iron grille. Here and there on the floor against the wall there are spooky chains that make me chill and smile nervously. At this moment I heard the rolling waves and I understand I'm on a ship.

Where I am? How many time has passed since my kidnap? I must return to the Oda right now! A lot of hours passed since I left Azuchi castle: I told to Hideyoshi I'd come back after lunch, so probably they have already noticed my absence.

I try open the door but, obviously, is locked and I look around to find something to force the look, but the room is empty, except the chain on the wall. Then I took a clip from my hair and, holding it tight in the hand, I pray:"At human memory this trick never worked, but, please, if there's even the littlest chance, make it happens". Great, now I pray to objects like they were gods!

I plug the clasp in the door lock but, as I expected, it doesn't work. Pushed by despair, I retry again and again, but after a large number of failed attempts and swears, finally I give up and I lean my back on the wall. A man appears in front of me: he's very tall and his body is made by tons of muscles, his eyes shining with malice. With a look I understand this man is a brute and he doesn't hesitate to use violence and if I had to fight against him, I'd probably die. "Who are you and why I'm here?" I demand, but he laughs dryly:"I'm the one who makes the questions here, little girl" and he opens the door. As he spoke, I recognize him as the man who kidnapped me. He enters in the cell and leaves open the door. I try to gain more time:"I understand why you kidnapped me: I'm very close to the Oda commanders and your boss wants information about them", Well, at least you are not stupid, that makes easier my work. So little girl, talk about your friends" he comments. "The problem is exactly about this: you see, I'm only their maid and I don't know anything about their future moves, so keep me here is useless" I lie and I walk towards the door. But the man grabs my hair, making me moan for the pain and yells at me:"You think I'm so stupid to believe you? I'm not a fool! In Azuchi people say Nobunaga brought you to battle on his horse His voice becomes lower, still being threatening:"If you don't tell me spontaneously all you know about them, I'll make you confess with the bad manners". And when he shows a bag full of torture instruments and I'm terrified. I don't know very much about torture, but I can imagine how much they'd hurt my body. I want to scream for help, but I know nobody will save me. My face gets paler. I know already how this will finish: this man will torture me until I speak, but I don't know anything, so he'll kill me for nothing. I'll die for anything!!

"I'm not his lover: I'm his maid and I have been staying in Azuchi for a few days. I don't know anything about them and if I knew something, I surely won't talk to you" I repeat using a quiet voice to not make him angrier. "Bad answer" he smiles sadistically, almost happy about my resistance and slaps me so violently to turn my head. "Try again, little girl, but the next time I won't so merciful".

"And if I don't confess what are you going to?" I bravely provoke him. The Oda forces helped me a lot and I won't betray them for my own safety. "I'll break all of your bones and if you won't talk, then I'll cut the tendons of your hands and your feet. If you still won't confess I'll remove your eyes, then I'll tear your ears and finally I'll cut your tongue" his threats scare me a lot, but I won't give up my loyalty. He takes from the bag a strange object and he places it near to my nails.

No no no no. Please, somebody help me!

I close the eyes too scared to watch, but at that moment I hear a new voice:"Yoshitoko, what are you doing here? I'm sure the captain hasn't told you to torture this girl since he is out to collect information with a few men. So I wonder: whose order are you following?". I open my eyes and I see a young man who's throwing diggers with the glare at the man in front of me. The newcomer is younger than this man, but somehow the eldest has to obey him. "The captain is still a child, quartermaster: if all of us wait for his command, we'd have alredy died. He doesn't know what to do and he's not able to keep the promise he made" he growls, "He's the captain, not you: he knows what's the best for us better than you. You are only able to hurt people and torture them, for this reason you won't be a captain. Now leave, Yoshitoko" The man speaks with a rough voice and I can feel the subtle threat he silently implies. I except a Yoshitoko's reaction, but he obeys whispering something.

Left alone, the young man is more relaxed walks towards me and I step back, so he reassures me:"I don't want to hurt you. I want to check your wound". I let him check my arm. I groan for the pain when he tries to move it. He looks more friendly than his colleague, so I try to ask:"Can you tell me who are you and how many days passed since my kidnap? Will you torture me again to seek information I don't have?". He sighs: "The arm is broken, now I call a doctor so he can help you better. Now you are on a pirate ship and you were kidnapped by Yoshitoko yesterday, following captain's order. Now the captain is away, but in a short time he'll be back and will decide what to do about you". "Earlier I said the truth: I don't know anything about Nobunaga's future plans. Keep me here he's useless" I whisper, "Even if you don't know anything you'll probably stay here as a political hostage to be used against your friends" the man explains my situation. The sadness overwhelms me to the thought I'll be used against my friends: I can't do this to them. "But as I told you is the captain to decide, so he could even release you" he tries to reassure me, but I have no illusions: if I were in his position I'll do the same. I even realize probably I won't be able to go back to my time. No way this will happen! The man says they wait for their captain, so it means the ship is still in the port: that makes my escape more easily. The man is inside the cell and the grill is open: all I have to do is run and don't be caught. But the pirate in front of me is still vigil even if he's more relaxed, surely is ready to catch me and even I'd beat him he'll give the alarm. No, escape at this moment is too risky but if I don't do it right now later would be impossible.

The only thing I can do is talk with the captain: I'm even ready to beg for my release, it's necessary. "The captain will be here in a few hours, so be more patient" he ends the conversation. "What kind of man is your captain?" I wonder, "The captain? Is an edgy man. He treats with respect his subordinates, but he doesn't trust anyone except me on this ship. Is the type of person who can be your friend but he stabs you in the back some minutes after" he responds. So he's a bastard and the possibilities he'd let me go are very low.

* * *

It's almost evening and Hideyoshi is worried: y/n told him this morning she'd have gone in the city until lunchtime, but she didn't come back. He asked around but nobody was able to tell him where y/n was. He alerted Nobunaga who decided to hold a war council to find her. Hideyoshi expresses all of his worry and Mitsunari takes word with a stern look on his face:"I'm quite worried as well, Lord Hideyoshi. We should look after her".

"Maybe she escaped after she went to war, after all, was her first time on a battlefield. I won't be surprised" Mitsuhide suggests with his cunning tone, but a more careful eye can see a glimpse of worry. In the past days, he went to some places with a very horrible reputation and in a red light district and he noticed a lot of Portuguese men who acted too much secretive for being simply merchant. They were really cautious: they gazed around before speaking with someone and once Mitsuhide risked revealing his true identity. Just today he succeeded to talk with a man after days of failures, but what he discovered was suspicious arms traffic. He didn't discover anything about y/n's missing. And the possibilities she's been kidnapped are not low. "My lucky charm is not a coward, Mitsuhide: she proved it during the war"

Nobunaga scolds him, "Then I suppose we should look after her" snorts Ieyasu. "As if you hadn't done it before, before" teases Mitsuhide: Ieyasu's contrarian reactions are always a delight for him.

"Lord Ieyasu is always so kind" Mitsunari praises him. Ieyasu scolds him:"I told you I wasn't searchi-", "Enough! Each of you will send your own scouts in the city to collect information" Nobunaga stops the discussion. Once the council ends, all the warlord obey to Nobunaga orders, sending men in the city and its surroundings with the order to search for y/n and arrest everyone look suspicious. But as time passes, nobody finds y/n.

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zonamievents · 5 years