Yuletide Reveal
Jan. 4th, 2011 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lanoyeeThis year, I was just slightly more active than usually at Yuletide. I wrote two fics -- my assigned fics and two short treats. It was a good experience, all in all! I actually had a lot of fun writing these, more so than in the past years that I participated in Yuletide, to be honest. I also got my fic in on time. I tried to write fic that's respectful in terms of gender and race, and also fun, and I hope I somewhat succeeded.
Title: Candlelight!
Fandom: K-ON!
Characters: Tainaka Ritsu, Akiyama Mio, Kotobuki Tsumugi, Hirasawa Yui
Pairings: Kotobuki Tsumugi/OC
Rating: G
Word Count: 4388
Author's Notes: I somewhat recently read about how Japanese female mainstream musicians (we're talking Hamasaki Ayumi et al here) use their lyrics to express criticism of society and create a kind of female space, and that stuck with me. When I was assigned K-ON! for Yuletide, it pretty much immediately sprung to my mind to do something with that. I also read that young Japanese women still have to deal with sexism at the workplace, so both of those things sort of clicked and produced this.
Tainaka Ritsu was not happy. After dark on a winter evening, she walked up the stairs, at the top of which an outside corridor and a half a dozen doors waited for her. One of these doors was the one to her apartment. It was cold and wet, the snow that had fallen the night before and well into the morning already half-melting and turning into slush everywhere, rendering her shoes sopping wet. She really needed to invest in winter shoes. Turned out taking care of yourself wasn't so easy when you lived alone and your parents weren't around to nag you about it all the time.
So, Tainaka Ritsu was not happy. In fact, she was veering somewhat dangerously close to “miserable.” But the evening still had a chance to turn out great; Ritsu was of the firm conviction that it was never too late for fun. And she had an idea about how to get it. As soon as she had entered her small two-room apartment, she flopped down on her sofa and took out her cell phone to text Mio. Her thumb darted over the tiny keyboard in a flurry.
Mio,
let's meet up tonight
I wanna jam!
Ritsu
She clicked “send” and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After about a minute of barely moving, Ritsu blinked. So Mio wasn't going to answer immediately. That miffed her a little, but on the other hand, it left her some time to get comfy and to get some food; for just in that moment, her stomach growled pointedly.
Ah, but that would require effort.
Ritsu leaned back on her sofa and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't a particularly interesting ceiling: it was a very light pink shade, but tinted yellow-ish by the lamplight, and around the edges where it met the walls, some faint stains could be seen. Well, the spiderwebs were, perhaps, slightly interesting in the context of naggy parents coming over and berating her about them. To avoid that, Ritsu did occasionally remove them when her family announced a visit, but she didn't always remember to. Or sometimes, she just couldn't be bothered.
During the next two hours, Ritsu heated up a serving of frozen ramen. She rarely cooked for herself, mostly because she wasn't very good at it. Ritsu did not like doing things she wasn't good at. So she resorted to this, and she'd only started buying the frozen stuff, rather than instant, after Mio had admonished her about it in her annoying-but-cute big sisterly way. (It had involved at least one smack on the head.)
Furthermore, she watched TV. She zipped past the cooking and other homemaking shows because they annoyed her and found a few mediocre comedy shows instead. Fed up with them soon, she finally caught a game show and had a decent time laughing at the participants' mishaps for a while.
As the end credits were rolling, she looked at her cell phone. It was silent. She turned her head back toward the television with the intention of deciding on what to do next. A few seconds later, she caught herself still staring at the screen. There was a shampoo ad on. (That reminded her she had to go shopping for cosmetics soon.)
Sighing, she switched the TV off and, after another look toward her slumbering cell phone, got out her drumsticks and drummed on the sofa a bit. It felt aimless and was sorely un-fun compared to jamming with the other members of Afterschool Teatime, which she would've preferred to do, but what could she do? She furrowed her brows and beat the poor sofa harder.
Then the phone rang.
Ritsu jumped and threw her drumsticks about, then ducked as they fell back down on her. “Ouch” she muttered, then dove for the cell phone on the coffee table. As expected, an answering message from Mio.
Ritsu,
sorry, didn't have time today. Was out with co-workers.
Mio
Ritsu sighed again and shook her head. Before she was done shaking it, her thumb was already hammering up a response, but then she thought better of it. Nothing would come of it, not today. And Ritsu herself was tired, too.
“You sure go out with your coworkers a lot,” she said to the empty room.
---
The next day, Ritsu stood next to the copy machine at the office, waiting for it to make its twenty copies. She had her hands in her pockets, which she could afford to do because she was pretty sure she was alone, and stared at the wall with the copying machine's steady click-clack echoing in her mind.
Suddenly, she heard voices. Ritsu jumped out of her reverie and took her hands out of her pockets, putting on a fake innocent look. The voices came closer and seemed to stop just around the corner. She recognized Mr. Nakata, the department manager, and Mr. Sugiura, a colleague. One who was close to promotion, as the rumor had it. Ritsu sighed thinking of that; no one had ever intimated that she deserved one.
“Still, that is risky,” said Nakata. “I don't want to be responsible for the company needlessly throwing out money.”
“Of course, of course,” Sugiura conceded in a humble voice, “your assessment is quite correct, mister department manager, sir. Regardless, if you allow me this boldness... I think it might well be worth the risk.”
The copying machine had come to a halt, and when she noticed, Ritsu opened the scanner's lid to exchange the page there for a new one. She clicked through the settings menu.
“How about you write up a draft for your campaign,” Nakata's deep, steady voice continued floating in from the other room, “and then we'll see if it is worth it.“
Ritsu perked up. A new campaign?
The company she worked at was a PR company. They made advertisements for all sorts of clients on a moderate scale. Usually, there wasn't much risk involved in this; they did their thing, and most of the time it worked. But Ritsu had heard talk of a new, big-name client – a manufacturer of sweets that required a large-scale sort of promotion. That was probably what they were talking about.
When Sugiura answered, there was elation in his voice. “Yes, of course! I'll get to it right away!“
The machine's ever self-same sound was a nice background noise for wandering thoughts. And wander, Ritsu's thoughts did, mostly to how she really missed practicing with the rest of the band, and even she was willing to concede that it must've been very long since the last time if she wanted to practice.
Then, a stroke of genius hit her smack dab in the face. Of course! This was an excellent opportunity to get Afterschool Teatime some revenue! Now only to plot her dramatic entrance with which she would present her grand plan.
Ritsu's mind very quickly went through various ways in which to make her presence known to her co-workers, including but not limited to a Tarzan imitation, a Tsukkomi routine, the portrayal of a chagrinned young maiden, and jumping out of a cake. The last one was ruled out fairly quickly due to lack of cake (though she was tempted to go out and remedy that, maybe during lunch break).
In the end, she decided to go with a solemn air. That sounded like it would have the most effect on her straight-laced colleagues. She started arranging the very serious words she would say and the very serious pose with which she would waltz over to them in her head.
Then the copying machine halted.
Ritsu arranged the stacks of copies in her arms, and like that, she squared her shoulders and straightened her limbs. She waited for a flash of rightness to hit her. And waited. Then she blinked. “Hmm. Not quite yet,” she thought, then lifted her chin a little and found it good that way.
“Well, I'll be going then,” Nakata said.
A surge of panic went through Ritsu, and first she froze, then she wibbled, and finally she raced over to the lounge, where the voices were coming from, magically not losing any papers in the process, though they did get a bit disorderly in her arms.
The next few seconds seemed like hours. In slow-motion steps, each clearly defined from the moment the foot's front touched the ground, to the knees giving in and bouncing back up and the foot lifting off the ground again to give way for the other, Ritsu approached Nakata, who was, in the beginning, turned sideways from her direction and steadily turning his back on her, heading for the door.
There needed to be something done, an act of desperation (and it was here that Ritsu lost her first sheet of paper, though she hardly took note of it)... a scream!
“Mr. Department Manager!” Ritsu cried out, putting all her heart blood into it. She thought she could hear an echo, which was technically impossible.
The department manager turned back around and looked at Ritsu, who was quivering in her pile of copies she'd lost. All eyes were on her.
“What is it, Tainaka?” Mr. Nakata said, a hint of disdain in his voice.
Ritsu tried responding, but her thoughts were jumbled. “I-I-I, I have an –”
“Oh, did you finish your copies?” He interrupted her, raising an eyebrow at the mess.
Reflexively, Ritsu stood straight. “Yes, sir!”
“Good. Why don't you bring them to your supervisor.” Not a question. And with that, he turned around again.
Ritsu lunged.
She caught hold of his stiffly ironed suit jacket, not caring for the moment if she crumpled it. She had a mission and it was important. “Mr. Department Manager, sir! I have a request!”
The expression with which he graced her was mortifying, and Ritsu could do nothing but stare as he wrested his jacket out of her hands. “Tainaka,” he said gravely, “I would suggest you fulfill your duties first.”
With that, he was off, and Ritsu was left with the mess. She looked around for help, but was met with figurative walls of stone. (Which, judging from some of her co-worker's looks, threatened to transcend figurativeness and become real.)
---
When she collapsed onto her sofa that evening, Ritsu briefly considered not texting Mio. She felt exhausted and shamed from a day spent trying to make up for her transgression. People had not let her live it down, so she had groveled to them.
Upon returning, she'd also found out that she'd forgotten to ventilate her apartment this morning, so she had to open the windows and let the cold in now.
This resulted in a disgruntled and cold Ritsu. She wanted to get a blanket and huddle in it, but she didn't want to move.
Well, texting Mio would not require moving much, so the idea of not doing so was quickly discarded. She reached blindly into the handbag (a rather sporty edition) lying next to her on the sofa and fished for her cell phone.
When she flipped it open, she found she had a message from Yui.
hey Ritsu
me n Ui are gonna throw a xmas party
wanna come?
Yui
Despite the cold, a bit of warmth suddenly filled Ritsu, and a small smile appeared on her face. Of course, it was Christmas in another week. She'd almost forgotten. Count on Yui to never forget anything that involved food and presents. Which was just as well; the party at Yui's was Former Light Music Club tradition, anyway.
She texted back, fingers just a mite less nimble than usually.
hey Yui,
sure do! I'll tell Mio, you tell Mugi and Azusa
Ritsu
Then she slumped for a bit, and finally stretched and jumped up from the sofa with a groaned “go!.” Once standing, she faced the kitchen. The piles of dishes made her seriously consider flopping right back down again.
Ritsu took a few steps toward the kitchen, forcing herself through each of them. Her cell phone rang.
She sighed. “Should've expected that,” she said any turned back around. Yep, an answer from Yui.
ok! was its only content.
“Geez, Yui,” said Ritsu and shook her head with a smile. She decided to text Mio after all.
Yui's having a Christmas party
we're invited
Ritsu
After sending the message, she braved the kitchen.
She got a short acknowledgment for an answer three hours later.
---
“I really wonder what's up with Mio,” Ritsu mused into her latte macchiato that weekend as she sat in a cozy mall café to relax between shopping bouts. It was strange; the other girls were busy, too, but they usually answered their texts in a timely fashion. Granted, she didn't text them as much as Mio – but something was wrong, yes, it was.
Suddenly, she became aware of a steady thumping next to her. On the side of the window. How strange.
She slowly turned her head to the left – and jumped. Pressed against the window pane, to which Ritsu sat very close, was a beaming Mugi. She wiped it with her mitten-clad hand in what seemed to be a wave gone wrong. Ritsu stared at her, took a quick look around for possible angry waitresses, and then frantically waved at Mugi to come inside.
“Ahh?” Obviously, Mugi was saying something, but the sound was muffled. Ritsu kept gesticulating, in hopes that Mugi would comprehend.
Finally, the confusion cleared from Mugi's face and she nodded, still with that angelic smile on her face. The she tugged at the arm of the girl next to her and they both vanished in the direction of the café's entrance.
Huh. She was here with a girl. Ritsu tried to remember where she'd met that girl before, because clearly, it had to be someone she knew, but came up with nothing. Suspicious.
But she had no time to figure the mystery out on her own, for already, she heard Mugi calling for her. “Ritsu!” She said with excitement while walking up to the table, then promptly installed herself there. Her companion stood around, fidgeting, but Mugi patted the seat next to her own, so the girl sat down with a shy look at Ritsu.
She was pretty. A tad less girly than Mugi herself, who wore an orderly skirt with nothing but black nylons under it even in the midst of winter, but definitely feminine. She had short, straight hair and narrow, but no less beautiful eyes in a slim face and was noticeably taller than Mugi even sitting down.
(Thinking that she had spent six years of her life going with the skirt-and-socks look now made Ritsu shiver. As soon as she'd gone on to university, freed from the regulations of school uniforms, she'd taken to wearing pants the great majority of the time. Recently, she'd conceded to skirts a little more often because there seemed to be a certain pressure for neat suits at work, but she wasn't fond of it, and never would be.)
Shaking herself out of her musings, Ritsu's look wandered from the girl to Mugi herself, who seemed to be tense waiting for something.
“You could've just said hello,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at Mugi.
“Oh, well, yes,” Mugi admitted, rubbing her thick hair a bit, “but I – I understand, Ritsu!”
“What?”
“I didn't want to hold you back from looking at my girlfriend.”
There was a bout of silence, in which Mugi gasped quietly and clapped her hands to her mouth. The girl next to her – Mugi's girlfriend – flushed a little.
“Your girlfriend,” Ritsu repeated, staring blankly at the two of them.
“Yes,” said Mugi, now flushing as well and regarding the table with great interest.
“Okay, not that I'm – okay. You gotta tell me the whole story.” With that, Ritsu leaned in, putting her elbows on the table and propping her chin up on them. She receded a little when she saw Mugi's girlfriend's uncomfortable look, feeling a bit sorry for her.
Mugi looked embarrassed, but she glowed with pride and... love? Whatever it was, it suited her well. “We met back in September at work. She works for a company that sometimes cooperates with mine, and we worked together on a project. It turns out she studied at the same university as we did, but we just never ran into each other back then.” Her smile widened. “Anyway, her name's Sayu. I'm glad I finally get to introduce you!”
Sayu smiled tentatively, as well. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Ritsu said mechanically, but then caught herself. She returned Sayu's smile. “My name's Ritsu. I know Mugi from back in high school. We were all part of the light music club!” That, she finished off with a grin. She would never not be proud of her club. Her band. Even at the times when they didn't actually do anything together, which seemed to get more and longer lately.
“Mh, Mugi told me about it. It sounds so fun.” That sounded honest, and Sayu seemed to be opening up a little.
“You should meet the other members,” Mugi said.
Ritsu wanted to comment on that, but the waitress came by to take Mugi's and Sayu's orders. Getting flustered again, Mugi reached for the menu and excused herself to the waitress while burying her nose deeply in it. The waitress left them again, and Sayu grabbed the side o the menu closest to her so that she could also have a look. The two of them nestled together, and Ritsu could see how Mugi's free hand took Sayu's.
It was heartwarming and made Ritsu smile again. “It was fun,” she said, and wanted to follow up saying that was still fun, but then stopped.
She wasn't entirely sure.
---
That night, Ritsu was in a considerably better mood than the days before. She staggered up the stairs to her home with her two shopping bags, which weren't very full, but she was pretty spent after a day of shopping for presents with Mugi and Sayu. But this was definitely the good kind of spent, the kind that transcends sore feet and cold hands and just filled you with a happy glow of contentment.
Once arrived at her door, she set down her bags and took out the key, then opened up. She was greeted by her apartment, shrouded in darkness, the only illuminated part the cut-out of the entrance door through which moon- and lamplight seeped in. Ritsu turned on the light.
It was only then that she noticed the piece of paper on the floor. She didn't remember a piece of paper lying on that precise spot; though one could not always tell, for Ritsu wasn't the most orderly of people. It was just an odd spot for a folded sheet of paper to lie in.
Maybe somebody had thrown it through the mail slot in her door? Shivering with cold, Ritsu quickly took in her bags and closed the door behind her, and bent down to take the paper in her hands. Taking off her shoes, she entered the living area, where she deposited her bags on the coffee table, a little precariously on some of the assorted stuff piled up there, and plopped onto the sofa.
Just then, her cell phone rang. Mio. Ritsu opened it with apprehension; it was unusual that Mio took the initiative in texting.
What do you think of my lyrics?
Mio
Lyrics? Ritsu stared at her cell phone's tiny screen, dumbfounded.
“Oh, right! The paper!” She finally exclaimed when it had dawned on her. She took the sheet of paper back up again and unfolded it. Oh, yes, that was Mio's handwriting. Ritsu started reading, bracing herself for an onslaught of saccharine cheesiness.
The lyrics went such:
Every day I try so hard but it's not good enough.
Every night we go out I feel like crying but you won't let me off.
Criticism by day, overbearing friendliness by night.
Every day spent serving tea, wishing for a chance.
Every night spent drinking beer, longing for respite.
And still I can't ever do it right.
How long do you expect me to hold still?
You're killing, you're killing, you're killing my music.
You're blowing out the light.
Later on, Ritsu would never recall just how long she sat there, in the living room, without moving, just blankly staring at the rumpled sheet of handwritten lyrics. And holding onto it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
She only woke up when tears threatened to spill out of her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, quietly, and let the tears flow. They were only a few.
They burned a little on her skin, so she wiped them off after all. Then she grabbed her cell phone again.
Mio,
those are the best lyrics you've ever written! We should make that a song.
Ritsu
Her stomach grumbled. Time to make some food. Only a new message prevented her. A message from Mio.
For a message from Mio, dinner could wait.
Ritsu,
no way! It's embarrassing
Mio
Ritsu smirked and found that she meant it. Then, she called Mio. It rang twice before Mio picked up.
“Ritsu?”
“That's right, it's me! Hell-ooo, Mio!”
“What's the matter?”
Ritsu laughed.
“I'm not making a song out of those lyrics.”
“Why not?”
“I told you. It's embarrassing I wrote them on a whim.”
That gave Ritsu a pause. How to best address this? “You did?”
“Yeah.”
Ritsu inhaled, exhaled, and answered in a quieter voice. “But... you wrote them out of real feeling, didn't you?”
Silence.
It stretched, and stretched, and –
“Mio?”
“Ah, well. … yes.”
“I know, Mio.”
“You do?” Surprise there. Ritsu briefly felt something approximating hurt that Mio didn't trust her to understand, but she did have to admit she wasn't always the most empathetic person.
She hoped she could convey her honesty now. “Yeah.”
Another silence, but different. Comfortable. For some reason, Ritsu felt that they had shared something very valuable.
All the more reason to share it with the others, too. She grinned.
“So you should definitely make it a song! We'll send it in to a major label and go big with it!”
Of course, Mio reacted with indignation. “Whaaaaaaaaat?”
Ritsu doubled over with laughter and rolled off the sofa, hitting her head on the coffee table. “Ouch!”
“... Ritsu, are you okay?”
She didn't move. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
---
Afterschool Teatime, after a long separation, finally came together again at Yui's Christmas party the following weekend. Sawa came too, as did Jun. It was good to see them all. Familiar.
Mugi brought Sayu, too, deciding that it was as good a time as any to introduce her to the whole band, and wanting to spend Christmas with her besides. Everyone welcomed Sayu warmly, even if they boggled at the notion at first. Sawa cried in jealousy, as did Yui, though her tears were a lot less heartfelt.
They had stew followed by tea and cake, then exchanged gifts secret Santa style, as they usually did, then they played video games, taking turns in playing two on two matches, the others sitting around the players, commenting, teasing and laughing. A lot of laughter was had. Sawa tried to get Mio to wear a skimpy Santa girl outfit, which ended on Azusa in the end, who turned as red as the costume.
It was after dark and everyone was getting happily tired , leaning back and relaxing, when Ritsu's eyes met Mio's. They looked at each other, then Ritsu nodded to Mio, who blushed and looked away, but nodded in agreement after all.
Both of them got up, not an easy task when you were full and tired and the sofa behind you was so very nice to lean on. The others took a moment to catch on, looking up at them one after another.
“What are you doing?” Yui said, in a voice that indicated she wanted them to stay put on the ground to excuse her own laziness.
“Surprise!” Ritsu told her, then turned and ran into the corridor. She had deposited her cajón, which she had acquired after getting a steady income, there. She took it and sprinted back into the living room, where Mio was setting up Ui's keyboard and her own bass, using Yui's amp. Ui had taken up the piano, for somewhere along the way, she had admitted that she had an insane talent for music (or for everything) and that she enjoyed it.
Ritsu put her cajón to the left of the amp, to the right of which the keyboard stood. She sat on it and looked, with quite some pleasure, at the puzzled expressions greeting her. Specifically, she sought Mugi's gaze out, and when they made eye contact, she grinned at her. “Hey, Mugi! Can you come up here and help us?”
Mugi blinked, then got up, all eyes on her. Ritsu turned to Mio. “Get out the sheets!”
And Mio did. She took them out of her bag and deposited them on the keyboard's music stand, after which she motioned for Mugi to sit down on the chair in front of the keyboard. As Mugi did so, Mio asked, “Do you think you can play this spontaneously?”
Mugi studied the sheets earnestly. “If you give me a few minutes, I think I can,” she said after having a good look at them. “Is this a new song you two have been working on?”
Mio smiled, and Ritsu was surprised to note she actually looked somewhat confident. “You'll see,” she quite simply said before sitting down on the amp. She experimentally let her fingers glide over her bass's strings, looking happy and pleased with the deep sound emanating upon the light touch.
After a while, Mugi finally said: “I think I got it!”
Ritsu, who had slumped a little, straightened again and put her legs to the sides of the cajón, bending down again, but in a poised seat instead of the previous lazy one. She looked at Mio and Mugi. “Let's go!”
The both of them nodded at her, smiling, and Mio got up, facing their small, curious crowd. “Dear everyone who is assembled here today! We would like to introduce a new song to you: 'Don't Blow Out The Light'!”
Title: Stories Thought and Sung
Fandom: Blade of the Immortal
Characters: Yoshino Dōa, Asano Rin
Rating: G
Word Count: 348
Author's Notes: I... feel like this is WAY too short, which it is because I wrote it on 12/24 and, as such, did not have much time to expand on it. Dōa is so interesting to write about; her conflict and definition of self, identity and the idea of "home" especially. Since I mentioned the bullying we know she received from the other kids in her village, that line about her mother was important to me, to sort of counterweight that characterization.
The night before they enter Edo Castle, Dōa thinks of Kuichiru.
She thinks of sitting at her grandmother's house, around the fire, with her cousins, listening to her grandmother singing them stories about great heroes, sacred animals and the gods living around them. Strange occurrences, coming face to face with destiny, for better or for worse.
She thinks back to the summer of her twelfth year, when the girls started talking about tattoos and becoming adults while playing children's games, hunting small fish with spears made of grass. Some of them giggled and whispered when they thought she couldn't hear (but she had excellent ears), “Kuichiru can't get a tattoo. She's not one of us.” For that, she threw them in the river.
After, she had to apologize, “not because you weren't right,” her mother said, “but we must always apologize.” She did it for her mother's sake, but felt terrible throughout.
Because she knew. She knew they were right, those girls, and Nuiteku was right when he commented on how different she was. She wasn't Utari and she wasn't Yamato and even though she loved her parents, she would never belong anywhere in the world.
Kuichiru hated that they were right.
Dōa thinks of these things in the dark of Rin's bedroom. She thinks that sometimes, the place you belong to isn't a place, but a person. Before, she thought that was more reliable, safer. Right now, with Isaku gone, swallowed up by a hole in the earth that spits corpses back out, she's not so sure. Her safety isn't even the issue, but she can't help thinking of it, here in the dark.
Maybe it's the cursed house. She should work on the window some more.
Rin's breathing is even and Dōa doesn't know if she's sleeping. She speaks to her regardless. “Rin, sing something to me. A story.”
Rin makes sleepy, annoyed noises. “Sing you? What?”
“Something.”
Rin sings her a song about a woman who wanted jump off a bridge. “It's stupid,” Dōa says, and then they are both silent.
Title: Good Boy
Fandom: Blade of the Immortal
Characters: Asano Rin, Hyakurin, Magatsu Taito
Rating: G
Word Count: 218
Author's Notes: Now, this? This was just pure fun. Magatsu just lends himself so easily to topping and trolling.
Hyakurin is amazing.
If Rin ever doubted it, today saw any of those doubts vanishing, poof, into thin air. Out of the window with the smoke of Hyakurin's pipe. They weren't many, anyway. And from now on, she will worship the ground Hyakurin walks on for nothing but the look on Magatsu's face.
He's indignant and scowling and has sweat running down his face, and it's glorious. Rin doesn't hate Magatsu as much as she does others he has declared alliance with; sometimes she isn't sure she truly hates him at all. But she can still derive a whole lot of pleasure from this. There is a petty part in her that kind of likes a chance to gloat and feel superior to the very strong men around her.
Even if she did nothing for it and it isn't her superiority at all, evidently. She knows nothing about gambling and thus couldn't have done this. Couldn't have reduced the second-in-command of the infamous Ittō-ryū to desperation – and a steadily shrinking amount of mon on his side. It makes her think she'd like to try learning, maybe, if she has time.
Finally, Magatsu throws his arm in the air and says, “Fine, fine! I give up!”
Hyakurin snickers and says, “Good boy.”
Rin cheers without reservation.
Title: Candlelight!
Fandom: K-ON!
Characters: Tainaka Ritsu, Akiyama Mio, Kotobuki Tsumugi, Hirasawa Yui
Pairings: Kotobuki Tsumugi/OC
Rating: G
Word Count: 4388
Author's Notes: I somewhat recently read about how Japanese female mainstream musicians (we're talking Hamasaki Ayumi et al here) use their lyrics to express criticism of society and create a kind of female space, and that stuck with me. When I was assigned K-ON! for Yuletide, it pretty much immediately sprung to my mind to do something with that. I also read that young Japanese women still have to deal with sexism at the workplace, so both of those things sort of clicked and produced this.
Tainaka Ritsu was not happy. After dark on a winter evening, she walked up the stairs, at the top of which an outside corridor and a half a dozen doors waited for her. One of these doors was the one to her apartment. It was cold and wet, the snow that had fallen the night before and well into the morning already half-melting and turning into slush everywhere, rendering her shoes sopping wet. She really needed to invest in winter shoes. Turned out taking care of yourself wasn't so easy when you lived alone and your parents weren't around to nag you about it all the time.
So, Tainaka Ritsu was not happy. In fact, she was veering somewhat dangerously close to “miserable.” But the evening still had a chance to turn out great; Ritsu was of the firm conviction that it was never too late for fun. And she had an idea about how to get it. As soon as she had entered her small two-room apartment, she flopped down on her sofa and took out her cell phone to text Mio. Her thumb darted over the tiny keyboard in a flurry.
Mio,
let's meet up tonight
I wanna jam!
Ritsu
She clicked “send” and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After about a minute of barely moving, Ritsu blinked. So Mio wasn't going to answer immediately. That miffed her a little, but on the other hand, it left her some time to get comfy and to get some food; for just in that moment, her stomach growled pointedly.
Ah, but that would require effort.
Ritsu leaned back on her sofa and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't a particularly interesting ceiling: it was a very light pink shade, but tinted yellow-ish by the lamplight, and around the edges where it met the walls, some faint stains could be seen. Well, the spiderwebs were, perhaps, slightly interesting in the context of naggy parents coming over and berating her about them. To avoid that, Ritsu did occasionally remove them when her family announced a visit, but she didn't always remember to. Or sometimes, she just couldn't be bothered.
During the next two hours, Ritsu heated up a serving of frozen ramen. She rarely cooked for herself, mostly because she wasn't very good at it. Ritsu did not like doing things she wasn't good at. So she resorted to this, and she'd only started buying the frozen stuff, rather than instant, after Mio had admonished her about it in her annoying-but-cute big sisterly way. (It had involved at least one smack on the head.)
Furthermore, she watched TV. She zipped past the cooking and other homemaking shows because they annoyed her and found a few mediocre comedy shows instead. Fed up with them soon, she finally caught a game show and had a decent time laughing at the participants' mishaps for a while.
As the end credits were rolling, she looked at her cell phone. It was silent. She turned her head back toward the television with the intention of deciding on what to do next. A few seconds later, she caught herself still staring at the screen. There was a shampoo ad on. (That reminded her she had to go shopping for cosmetics soon.)
Sighing, she switched the TV off and, after another look toward her slumbering cell phone, got out her drumsticks and drummed on the sofa a bit. It felt aimless and was sorely un-fun compared to jamming with the other members of Afterschool Teatime, which she would've preferred to do, but what could she do? She furrowed her brows and beat the poor sofa harder.
Then the phone rang.
Ritsu jumped and threw her drumsticks about, then ducked as they fell back down on her. “Ouch” she muttered, then dove for the cell phone on the coffee table. As expected, an answering message from Mio.
Ritsu,
sorry, didn't have time today. Was out with co-workers.
Mio
Ritsu sighed again and shook her head. Before she was done shaking it, her thumb was already hammering up a response, but then she thought better of it. Nothing would come of it, not today. And Ritsu herself was tired, too.
“You sure go out with your coworkers a lot,” she said to the empty room.
---
The next day, Ritsu stood next to the copy machine at the office, waiting for it to make its twenty copies. She had her hands in her pockets, which she could afford to do because she was pretty sure she was alone, and stared at the wall with the copying machine's steady click-clack echoing in her mind.
Suddenly, she heard voices. Ritsu jumped out of her reverie and took her hands out of her pockets, putting on a fake innocent look. The voices came closer and seemed to stop just around the corner. She recognized Mr. Nakata, the department manager, and Mr. Sugiura, a colleague. One who was close to promotion, as the rumor had it. Ritsu sighed thinking of that; no one had ever intimated that she deserved one.
“Still, that is risky,” said Nakata. “I don't want to be responsible for the company needlessly throwing out money.”
“Of course, of course,” Sugiura conceded in a humble voice, “your assessment is quite correct, mister department manager, sir. Regardless, if you allow me this boldness... I think it might well be worth the risk.”
The copying machine had come to a halt, and when she noticed, Ritsu opened the scanner's lid to exchange the page there for a new one. She clicked through the settings menu.
“How about you write up a draft for your campaign,” Nakata's deep, steady voice continued floating in from the other room, “and then we'll see if it is worth it.“
Ritsu perked up. A new campaign?
The company she worked at was a PR company. They made advertisements for all sorts of clients on a moderate scale. Usually, there wasn't much risk involved in this; they did their thing, and most of the time it worked. But Ritsu had heard talk of a new, big-name client – a manufacturer of sweets that required a large-scale sort of promotion. That was probably what they were talking about.
When Sugiura answered, there was elation in his voice. “Yes, of course! I'll get to it right away!“
The machine's ever self-same sound was a nice background noise for wandering thoughts. And wander, Ritsu's thoughts did, mostly to how she really missed practicing with the rest of the band, and even she was willing to concede that it must've been very long since the last time if she wanted to practice.
Then, a stroke of genius hit her smack dab in the face. Of course! This was an excellent opportunity to get Afterschool Teatime some revenue! Now only to plot her dramatic entrance with which she would present her grand plan.
Ritsu's mind very quickly went through various ways in which to make her presence known to her co-workers, including but not limited to a Tarzan imitation, a Tsukkomi routine, the portrayal of a chagrinned young maiden, and jumping out of a cake. The last one was ruled out fairly quickly due to lack of cake (though she was tempted to go out and remedy that, maybe during lunch break).
In the end, she decided to go with a solemn air. That sounded like it would have the most effect on her straight-laced colleagues. She started arranging the very serious words she would say and the very serious pose with which she would waltz over to them in her head.
Then the copying machine halted.
Ritsu arranged the stacks of copies in her arms, and like that, she squared her shoulders and straightened her limbs. She waited for a flash of rightness to hit her. And waited. Then she blinked. “Hmm. Not quite yet,” she thought, then lifted her chin a little and found it good that way.
“Well, I'll be going then,” Nakata said.
A surge of panic went through Ritsu, and first she froze, then she wibbled, and finally she raced over to the lounge, where the voices were coming from, magically not losing any papers in the process, though they did get a bit disorderly in her arms.
The next few seconds seemed like hours. In slow-motion steps, each clearly defined from the moment the foot's front touched the ground, to the knees giving in and bouncing back up and the foot lifting off the ground again to give way for the other, Ritsu approached Nakata, who was, in the beginning, turned sideways from her direction and steadily turning his back on her, heading for the door.
There needed to be something done, an act of desperation (and it was here that Ritsu lost her first sheet of paper, though she hardly took note of it)... a scream!
“Mr. Department Manager!” Ritsu cried out, putting all her heart blood into it. She thought she could hear an echo, which was technically impossible.
The department manager turned back around and looked at Ritsu, who was quivering in her pile of copies she'd lost. All eyes were on her.
“What is it, Tainaka?” Mr. Nakata said, a hint of disdain in his voice.
Ritsu tried responding, but her thoughts were jumbled. “I-I-I, I have an –”
“Oh, did you finish your copies?” He interrupted her, raising an eyebrow at the mess.
Reflexively, Ritsu stood straight. “Yes, sir!”
“Good. Why don't you bring them to your supervisor.” Not a question. And with that, he turned around again.
Ritsu lunged.
She caught hold of his stiffly ironed suit jacket, not caring for the moment if she crumpled it. She had a mission and it was important. “Mr. Department Manager, sir! I have a request!”
The expression with which he graced her was mortifying, and Ritsu could do nothing but stare as he wrested his jacket out of her hands. “Tainaka,” he said gravely, “I would suggest you fulfill your duties first.”
With that, he was off, and Ritsu was left with the mess. She looked around for help, but was met with figurative walls of stone. (Which, judging from some of her co-worker's looks, threatened to transcend figurativeness and become real.)
---
When she collapsed onto her sofa that evening, Ritsu briefly considered not texting Mio. She felt exhausted and shamed from a day spent trying to make up for her transgression. People had not let her live it down, so she had groveled to them.
Upon returning, she'd also found out that she'd forgotten to ventilate her apartment this morning, so she had to open the windows and let the cold in now.
This resulted in a disgruntled and cold Ritsu. She wanted to get a blanket and huddle in it, but she didn't want to move.
Well, texting Mio would not require moving much, so the idea of not doing so was quickly discarded. She reached blindly into the handbag (a rather sporty edition) lying next to her on the sofa and fished for her cell phone.
When she flipped it open, she found she had a message from Yui.
hey Ritsu
me n Ui are gonna throw a xmas party
wanna come?
Yui
Despite the cold, a bit of warmth suddenly filled Ritsu, and a small smile appeared on her face. Of course, it was Christmas in another week. She'd almost forgotten. Count on Yui to never forget anything that involved food and presents. Which was just as well; the party at Yui's was Former Light Music Club tradition, anyway.
She texted back, fingers just a mite less nimble than usually.
hey Yui,
sure do! I'll tell Mio, you tell Mugi and Azusa
Ritsu
Then she slumped for a bit, and finally stretched and jumped up from the sofa with a groaned “go!.” Once standing, she faced the kitchen. The piles of dishes made her seriously consider flopping right back down again.
Ritsu took a few steps toward the kitchen, forcing herself through each of them. Her cell phone rang.
She sighed. “Should've expected that,” she said any turned back around. Yep, an answer from Yui.
ok! was its only content.
“Geez, Yui,” said Ritsu and shook her head with a smile. She decided to text Mio after all.
Yui's having a Christmas party
we're invited
Ritsu
After sending the message, she braved the kitchen.
She got a short acknowledgment for an answer three hours later.
---
“I really wonder what's up with Mio,” Ritsu mused into her latte macchiato that weekend as she sat in a cozy mall café to relax between shopping bouts. It was strange; the other girls were busy, too, but they usually answered their texts in a timely fashion. Granted, she didn't text them as much as Mio – but something was wrong, yes, it was.
Suddenly, she became aware of a steady thumping next to her. On the side of the window. How strange.
She slowly turned her head to the left – and jumped. Pressed against the window pane, to which Ritsu sat very close, was a beaming Mugi. She wiped it with her mitten-clad hand in what seemed to be a wave gone wrong. Ritsu stared at her, took a quick look around for possible angry waitresses, and then frantically waved at Mugi to come inside.
“Ahh?” Obviously, Mugi was saying something, but the sound was muffled. Ritsu kept gesticulating, in hopes that Mugi would comprehend.
Finally, the confusion cleared from Mugi's face and she nodded, still with that angelic smile on her face. The she tugged at the arm of the girl next to her and they both vanished in the direction of the café's entrance.
Huh. She was here with a girl. Ritsu tried to remember where she'd met that girl before, because clearly, it had to be someone she knew, but came up with nothing. Suspicious.
But she had no time to figure the mystery out on her own, for already, she heard Mugi calling for her. “Ritsu!” She said with excitement while walking up to the table, then promptly installed herself there. Her companion stood around, fidgeting, but Mugi patted the seat next to her own, so the girl sat down with a shy look at Ritsu.
She was pretty. A tad less girly than Mugi herself, who wore an orderly skirt with nothing but black nylons under it even in the midst of winter, but definitely feminine. She had short, straight hair and narrow, but no less beautiful eyes in a slim face and was noticeably taller than Mugi even sitting down.
(Thinking that she had spent six years of her life going with the skirt-and-socks look now made Ritsu shiver. As soon as she'd gone on to university, freed from the regulations of school uniforms, she'd taken to wearing pants the great majority of the time. Recently, she'd conceded to skirts a little more often because there seemed to be a certain pressure for neat suits at work, but she wasn't fond of it, and never would be.)
Shaking herself out of her musings, Ritsu's look wandered from the girl to Mugi herself, who seemed to be tense waiting for something.
“You could've just said hello,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at Mugi.
“Oh, well, yes,” Mugi admitted, rubbing her thick hair a bit, “but I – I understand, Ritsu!”
“What?”
“I didn't want to hold you back from looking at my girlfriend.”
There was a bout of silence, in which Mugi gasped quietly and clapped her hands to her mouth. The girl next to her – Mugi's girlfriend – flushed a little.
“Your girlfriend,” Ritsu repeated, staring blankly at the two of them.
“Yes,” said Mugi, now flushing as well and regarding the table with great interest.
“Okay, not that I'm – okay. You gotta tell me the whole story.” With that, Ritsu leaned in, putting her elbows on the table and propping her chin up on them. She receded a little when she saw Mugi's girlfriend's uncomfortable look, feeling a bit sorry for her.
Mugi looked embarrassed, but she glowed with pride and... love? Whatever it was, it suited her well. “We met back in September at work. She works for a company that sometimes cooperates with mine, and we worked together on a project. It turns out she studied at the same university as we did, but we just never ran into each other back then.” Her smile widened. “Anyway, her name's Sayu. I'm glad I finally get to introduce you!”
Sayu smiled tentatively, as well. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Ritsu said mechanically, but then caught herself. She returned Sayu's smile. “My name's Ritsu. I know Mugi from back in high school. We were all part of the light music club!” That, she finished off with a grin. She would never not be proud of her club. Her band. Even at the times when they didn't actually do anything together, which seemed to get more and longer lately.
“Mh, Mugi told me about it. It sounds so fun.” That sounded honest, and Sayu seemed to be opening up a little.
“You should meet the other members,” Mugi said.
Ritsu wanted to comment on that, but the waitress came by to take Mugi's and Sayu's orders. Getting flustered again, Mugi reached for the menu and excused herself to the waitress while burying her nose deeply in it. The waitress left them again, and Sayu grabbed the side o the menu closest to her so that she could also have a look. The two of them nestled together, and Ritsu could see how Mugi's free hand took Sayu's.
It was heartwarming and made Ritsu smile again. “It was fun,” she said, and wanted to follow up saying that was still fun, but then stopped.
She wasn't entirely sure.
---
That night, Ritsu was in a considerably better mood than the days before. She staggered up the stairs to her home with her two shopping bags, which weren't very full, but she was pretty spent after a day of shopping for presents with Mugi and Sayu. But this was definitely the good kind of spent, the kind that transcends sore feet and cold hands and just filled you with a happy glow of contentment.
Once arrived at her door, she set down her bags and took out the key, then opened up. She was greeted by her apartment, shrouded in darkness, the only illuminated part the cut-out of the entrance door through which moon- and lamplight seeped in. Ritsu turned on the light.
It was only then that she noticed the piece of paper on the floor. She didn't remember a piece of paper lying on that precise spot; though one could not always tell, for Ritsu wasn't the most orderly of people. It was just an odd spot for a folded sheet of paper to lie in.
Maybe somebody had thrown it through the mail slot in her door? Shivering with cold, Ritsu quickly took in her bags and closed the door behind her, and bent down to take the paper in her hands. Taking off her shoes, she entered the living area, where she deposited her bags on the coffee table, a little precariously on some of the assorted stuff piled up there, and plopped onto the sofa.
Just then, her cell phone rang. Mio. Ritsu opened it with apprehension; it was unusual that Mio took the initiative in texting.
What do you think of my lyrics?
Mio
Lyrics? Ritsu stared at her cell phone's tiny screen, dumbfounded.
“Oh, right! The paper!” She finally exclaimed when it had dawned on her. She took the sheet of paper back up again and unfolded it. Oh, yes, that was Mio's handwriting. Ritsu started reading, bracing herself for an onslaught of saccharine cheesiness.
The lyrics went such:
Every day I try so hard but it's not good enough.
Every night we go out I feel like crying but you won't let me off.
Criticism by day, overbearing friendliness by night.
Every day spent serving tea, wishing for a chance.
Every night spent drinking beer, longing for respite.
And still I can't ever do it right.
How long do you expect me to hold still?
You're killing, you're killing, you're killing my music.
You're blowing out the light.
Later on, Ritsu would never recall just how long she sat there, in the living room, without moving, just blankly staring at the rumpled sheet of handwritten lyrics. And holding onto it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
She only woke up when tears threatened to spill out of her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, quietly, and let the tears flow. They were only a few.
They burned a little on her skin, so she wiped them off after all. Then she grabbed her cell phone again.
Mio,
those are the best lyrics you've ever written! We should make that a song.
Ritsu
Her stomach grumbled. Time to make some food. Only a new message prevented her. A message from Mio.
For a message from Mio, dinner could wait.
Ritsu,
no way! It's embarrassing
Mio
Ritsu smirked and found that she meant it. Then, she called Mio. It rang twice before Mio picked up.
“Ritsu?”
“That's right, it's me! Hell-ooo, Mio!”
“What's the matter?”
Ritsu laughed.
“I'm not making a song out of those lyrics.”
“Why not?”
“I told you. It's embarrassing I wrote them on a whim.”
That gave Ritsu a pause. How to best address this? “You did?”
“Yeah.”
Ritsu inhaled, exhaled, and answered in a quieter voice. “But... you wrote them out of real feeling, didn't you?”
Silence.
It stretched, and stretched, and –
“Mio?”
“Ah, well. … yes.”
“I know, Mio.”
“You do?” Surprise there. Ritsu briefly felt something approximating hurt that Mio didn't trust her to understand, but she did have to admit she wasn't always the most empathetic person.
She hoped she could convey her honesty now. “Yeah.”
Another silence, but different. Comfortable. For some reason, Ritsu felt that they had shared something very valuable.
All the more reason to share it with the others, too. She grinned.
“So you should definitely make it a song! We'll send it in to a major label and go big with it!”
Of course, Mio reacted with indignation. “Whaaaaaaaaat?”
Ritsu doubled over with laughter and rolled off the sofa, hitting her head on the coffee table. “Ouch!”
“... Ritsu, are you okay?”
She didn't move. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
---
Afterschool Teatime, after a long separation, finally came together again at Yui's Christmas party the following weekend. Sawa came too, as did Jun. It was good to see them all. Familiar.
Mugi brought Sayu, too, deciding that it was as good a time as any to introduce her to the whole band, and wanting to spend Christmas with her besides. Everyone welcomed Sayu warmly, even if they boggled at the notion at first. Sawa cried in jealousy, as did Yui, though her tears were a lot less heartfelt.
They had stew followed by tea and cake, then exchanged gifts secret Santa style, as they usually did, then they played video games, taking turns in playing two on two matches, the others sitting around the players, commenting, teasing and laughing. A lot of laughter was had. Sawa tried to get Mio to wear a skimpy Santa girl outfit, which ended on Azusa in the end, who turned as red as the costume.
It was after dark and everyone was getting happily tired , leaning back and relaxing, when Ritsu's eyes met Mio's. They looked at each other, then Ritsu nodded to Mio, who blushed and looked away, but nodded in agreement after all.
Both of them got up, not an easy task when you were full and tired and the sofa behind you was so very nice to lean on. The others took a moment to catch on, looking up at them one after another.
“What are you doing?” Yui said, in a voice that indicated she wanted them to stay put on the ground to excuse her own laziness.
“Surprise!” Ritsu told her, then turned and ran into the corridor. She had deposited her cajón, which she had acquired after getting a steady income, there. She took it and sprinted back into the living room, where Mio was setting up Ui's keyboard and her own bass, using Yui's amp. Ui had taken up the piano, for somewhere along the way, she had admitted that she had an insane talent for music (or for everything) and that she enjoyed it.
Ritsu put her cajón to the left of the amp, to the right of which the keyboard stood. She sat on it and looked, with quite some pleasure, at the puzzled expressions greeting her. Specifically, she sought Mugi's gaze out, and when they made eye contact, she grinned at her. “Hey, Mugi! Can you come up here and help us?”
Mugi blinked, then got up, all eyes on her. Ritsu turned to Mio. “Get out the sheets!”
And Mio did. She took them out of her bag and deposited them on the keyboard's music stand, after which she motioned for Mugi to sit down on the chair in front of the keyboard. As Mugi did so, Mio asked, “Do you think you can play this spontaneously?”
Mugi studied the sheets earnestly. “If you give me a few minutes, I think I can,” she said after having a good look at them. “Is this a new song you two have been working on?”
Mio smiled, and Ritsu was surprised to note she actually looked somewhat confident. “You'll see,” she quite simply said before sitting down on the amp. She experimentally let her fingers glide over her bass's strings, looking happy and pleased with the deep sound emanating upon the light touch.
After a while, Mugi finally said: “I think I got it!”
Ritsu, who had slumped a little, straightened again and put her legs to the sides of the cajón, bending down again, but in a poised seat instead of the previous lazy one. She looked at Mio and Mugi. “Let's go!”
The both of them nodded at her, smiling, and Mio got up, facing their small, curious crowd. “Dear everyone who is assembled here today! We would like to introduce a new song to you: 'Don't Blow Out The Light'!”
Title: Stories Thought and Sung
Fandom: Blade of the Immortal
Characters: Yoshino Dōa, Asano Rin
Rating: G
Word Count: 348
Author's Notes: I... feel like this is WAY too short, which it is because I wrote it on 12/24 and, as such, did not have much time to expand on it. Dōa is so interesting to write about; her conflict and definition of self, identity and the idea of "home" especially. Since I mentioned the bullying we know she received from the other kids in her village, that line about her mother was important to me, to sort of counterweight that characterization.
The night before they enter Edo Castle, Dōa thinks of Kuichiru.
She thinks of sitting at her grandmother's house, around the fire, with her cousins, listening to her grandmother singing them stories about great heroes, sacred animals and the gods living around them. Strange occurrences, coming face to face with destiny, for better or for worse.
She thinks back to the summer of her twelfth year, when the girls started talking about tattoos and becoming adults while playing children's games, hunting small fish with spears made of grass. Some of them giggled and whispered when they thought she couldn't hear (but she had excellent ears), “Kuichiru can't get a tattoo. She's not one of us.” For that, she threw them in the river.
After, she had to apologize, “not because you weren't right,” her mother said, “but we must always apologize.” She did it for her mother's sake, but felt terrible throughout.
Because she knew. She knew they were right, those girls, and Nuiteku was right when he commented on how different she was. She wasn't Utari and she wasn't Yamato and even though she loved her parents, she would never belong anywhere in the world.
Kuichiru hated that they were right.
Dōa thinks of these things in the dark of Rin's bedroom. She thinks that sometimes, the place you belong to isn't a place, but a person. Before, she thought that was more reliable, safer. Right now, with Isaku gone, swallowed up by a hole in the earth that spits corpses back out, she's not so sure. Her safety isn't even the issue, but she can't help thinking of it, here in the dark.
Maybe it's the cursed house. She should work on the window some more.
Rin's breathing is even and Dōa doesn't know if she's sleeping. She speaks to her regardless. “Rin, sing something to me. A story.”
Rin makes sleepy, annoyed noises. “Sing you? What?”
“Something.”
Rin sings her a song about a woman who wanted jump off a bridge. “It's stupid,” Dōa says, and then they are both silent.
Title: Good Boy
Fandom: Blade of the Immortal
Characters: Asano Rin, Hyakurin, Magatsu Taito
Rating: G
Word Count: 218
Author's Notes: Now, this? This was just pure fun. Magatsu just lends himself so easily to topping and trolling.
Hyakurin is amazing.
If Rin ever doubted it, today saw any of those doubts vanishing, poof, into thin air. Out of the window with the smoke of Hyakurin's pipe. They weren't many, anyway. And from now on, she will worship the ground Hyakurin walks on for nothing but the look on Magatsu's face.
He's indignant and scowling and has sweat running down his face, and it's glorious. Rin doesn't hate Magatsu as much as she does others he has declared alliance with; sometimes she isn't sure she truly hates him at all. But she can still derive a whole lot of pleasure from this. There is a petty part in her that kind of likes a chance to gloat and feel superior to the very strong men around her.
Even if she did nothing for it and it isn't her superiority at all, evidently. She knows nothing about gambling and thus couldn't have done this. Couldn't have reduced the second-in-command of the infamous Ittō-ryū to desperation – and a steadily shrinking amount of mon on his side. It makes her think she'd like to try learning, maybe, if she has time.
Finally, Magatsu throws his arm in the air and says, “Fine, fine! I give up!”
Hyakurin snickers and says, “Good boy.”
Rin cheers without reservation.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 04:48 pm (UTC)Magatsu is chanceless against just about everyone. You gotta feel a bit sorry for him.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 05:09 pm (UTC)This is true. Poor guy.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 01:06 am (UTC)♥