Game Changer & Make Some Noise
★
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@kiyomeru
My friends, I have made a great investment today.
I am sure you have not heard of this business opportunity before. It is called a time share. You see, I am being paid to vacation. Please contact me for more information on how you can get in on this incredible business opportunity. Thank you.
We must celebrate with a trip there, my love.
Have you heard of NFTs?
My friends, I have made a great investment today.
I am sure you have not heard of this business opportunity before. It is called a time share. You see, I am being paid to vacation. Please contact me for more information on how you can get in on this incredible business opportunity. Thank you.
kiyomeru:
Munakata is afraid and defiant. He obeys each command, knowing that it could cost him his life — but at every opportunity his faltered logic can find to attempt to escape he writhes violently until he’s properly restrained again.
It’s only when the woman pinning him mentions that moment that he stills, shock and anger in his eye.
Not one day goes by in which he does not think of it.
He understands now. Sakakura must be here for revenge.
It is time. At last.
The thought calms him, and he submits. To the mask, the capture, everything. If Sakakura is here to kill him, then so be it.
They’re aggressive, but they aren’t cruel.
Dani slips the muzzle on gently, securing it in place with a soft touch.
“That’s what I thought.” She says. “You get it. With everything you know about the Future Foundation you are an astronomical risk.”
Piper gently encourages him to sit up, placing a pair of cuffs around his hands.
—-
Juzo doesn’t visit for a few days. Munakata’s cell is comfortable, but offers exactly nothing in the way of privacy. The wall is entirely glass.
When he does come back, Snow trots into step with him, jogging to keep up with his stride.
“Ha! You think he’ll bite me?”
“If he does, that’s a hell of a lesson learned, isn’t it?”
“For me or him?”
Juzo doesn’t answer, falling quiet until both of them arrive in front of Munakata’s cell.
“Your brain scan came back negative.” Juzo says. His voice is no less cold than it was when he suspected him of being a Despair. “Snow’s going to remove your muzzle. Attack her, and you deal with me.”
They don't kill him. They take him. It's worse, somehow.
Munakata sits in a cell for several days. The once-familiar smell of sterility is nearly overwhelming. Every move he makes is scrutinized, though he barely moves at all. Only to take care of his basic needs. He is fed through a tube.
He supposes he deserves this. Less than this, even. The cell is kinder than the cave. Part of him is frustrated that he has been denied his toil.
After several days, Sakakura arrives. Munakata wasn't entirely sure he would come at all. It would make sense to keep him silenced here, to never threaten another soul. He's dangerous, a relic of a world gone wrong. He'll kill anyone he touches whether he wants to or not.
Sakakura brings a woman with him. Snow, he calls her. Munakata has no reason to attack her. It will not bring him any closer to escape. It will not bring Juzo any closer to revenge.
Munakata sits still, barely acknowledging her presence. He watches Sakakura the entire time she is in his cell.
kiyomeru:
Munakata is hopelessly pinned to the floor before he can even process what’s going on. Crying out in frustration he struggles against the pressure above him, tugging at the boot against his neck.
The ringing is only just done clearing from his ears when he hears a name that makes his heart run cold. For a moment his muscles freeze and his eye widens in fear.
“Sakakura—?” The word is familiar in his mouth but his own voice has become foreign to him.
The voice he hears back is cold and professional, but unmistakably Sakakura. The light is dim and Munakata is confused and concussed, but he knows that Sakakura is looking him right in the eye when he addresses him next. Threats him.
Munakata falls silent, but he continues to struggle weakly against his captor. His life, his sentence, is here. He will not go willingly, no matter the stakes against him.
Juzo grits his teeth when he hears his name. It only makes Piper apply more pressure.
Danielle hands the harpoon off to Juzo, who takes it without looking, before kneeling down with the black mask.
“If you aren’t a despair, you’ll want to cooperate.” She says. Her voice is warmer than Sakakura’s, but just as definite. “This will render you unable to speak, but it won’t choke you. You can have your voice back when the scan is complete.”
“Sophisticated, isn’t it?” Piper cuts in. “We can diagnose it now. No more stabbing our friends to make sure!”
“Piper.” Juzo says, but not without the smallest of smirks.
“You’d do best not to provoke him.”
Munakata is afraid and defiant. He obeys each command, knowing that it could cost him his life — but at every opportunity his faltered logic can find to attempt to escape he writhes violently until he's properly restrained again.
It's only when the woman pinning him mentions that moment that he stills, shock and anger in his eye.
Not one day goes by in which he does not think of it.
He understands now. Sakakura must be here for revenge.
It is time. At last.
The thought calms him, and he submits. To the mask, the capture, everything. If Sakakura is here to kill him, then so be it.
My love. I heard somebody singing about you in the hallway today. The lyrics included the phrase "apple Munakata jeans." Do you know what he might have meant by that?
...I cannot say that I do.
I do not tend to wear jeans.
Heh. I was just called "smexy" on the way to work. I only thought about how much you'd agree with the sentiment. Your husband - Juzo Kyosuke Munakata-Sakakura
They could have taken the words out of my own mouth.
when I confessed that I wanted you to penetrate me, this isn't really what I had in mind.
It is like I can still hear his voice sometimes...
also we started high school verse today and it’s going well
fooliery
HE SPENDS MONEY LIKE A YOUTUBER HELPPPP
PLEASEEEE
juzo: I love my husband…I would give him anything he could possibly ask me for. he is loving, kind, and gentle. there is not a man in the world who could measure up to him.
the creature in question:
@kiyomeru
Juzo is already home.
He’s not tired to the point of dozing off on the couch, but his eyes have had dark circles beneath them for the better part of the past six months. It’s physical and mental, but it’s the kind of tired that comes without sleep. Like the high after a marathon.
He’s run a marathon once.
Now it feels like he runs three a day.
…He perks up when Aika zips down from his hood, galloping across the floor toward the entrance. Her tiny talons patter on the tile as she zips to the opening door, ready to welcome her father home from a long day at work.
“AN-GEL? ANGEL?”
…It’s among the cutest things Aika does, really. Her little cockatoo brain has named each of them after the names they most frequently call each other in the privacy of their own house. ‘My Love’ and ‘Angel.’
Juzo isn’t even convinced that she knows their real names at all, but that’s just fine.
The door slides open in response to his fingerprint, and he steps inside, letting just a fraction of the tension he's carrying out in a short breath. Almost immediately comes the tell-tale pitter-patter of feet and the excited screeching of his daughter. He smiles.
"Angel's here. Angel's here, my sweetheart." he soothes, as she jumps around him happily. Once she's calmed down, he gestures for her to step up into his hand, and heads towards the living room.
"My love, I picked up some leeks from the store. I noticed we were out this morning--"
Kyosuke steps into the living room and sees his husband, exhausted.
"...Did something happen...?"
Anyone participating in the “dicks out for Juzo Sakakura” movement: I cannot imagine why you would think I want to see any of that. Put them back. I do not have time to write up four hundred staff members because they care more about asinine “appreciation activities” than keeping vulnerable appendages secure in an already dangerous workplace environment.
Get. Back. To. WORK
I will remind all employees that we have a seminar on workplace harassment on Monday, and attendance is mandatory.
My darling husband. I am so sorry. I didn't realize that Sundays were traditionally known as "Fingers in His Ass Sunday." I deeply apologize for missing the days I am meant to deliver you pleasure with my fingertips. Allow me to make it up for you, beloved?
Only if I can deliver that same pleasure to you. I too was unaware of "Fingers in His Ass Sunday." Please do not mistake it for my not caring.
kiyomeru:
He’s been alone for a long while.
The seasons offer his only measurement of time, and he rarely goes outside. The world is dead. He will only find Despair out there.
This wasn’t his intention; none of it was. The first few weeks he spent wandering, surviving on scraps and supplies packed in his bag or picked from corpses. One night, after traipsing aimlessly across the shore he was caught in a prolonged rainstorm, took shelter in this cave and never left. Fashioning a bed, seat, and firepit out of the rock using the molten heat of his sword Munakata has made a life for himself here to sit and regret.
Predators sometimes enter the cave; he kills them and dries their meat for the winter. When the Despairs arrive he takes supplies from their bodies.
He’s checking one of his nets near the cave’s entrance when he hears footsteps. His hand reaches for the sword stowed in his ragged beltloop. And he moves to hide where the shadows conceal him when an impossibly bright light overwhelms his senses. A screech sounds louder even than his own thoughts and he cries out, covering his ears with his palms and closing his eye as tightly shut as he can manage.
When the assault subsides and he’s able to open his eyes, he sees only vague silhouettes flushed against the sunlight. They’re here to kill him. Whoever they are. Lunging forward with his sword, he tries in vain to kill his intruders.
He actually did anticipate this. Munakata’s blind as shit even with two eyes, let alone having one explode in its socket.
When Piper releases her mechanical black horse from a disc lying against her wrist, it’s without surprise or urgency. The wall goes up and she springs over it, as if she’s done it a million times before. Because she has done it a million times before.
Her kick aims for his chest as the hooked heel of her axe makes for his pathetically tattered tie.
She doesn’t choke him this time - just holds him in place, immediately scooting her foot up against his throat and putting pressure against it.
“Chairman Sakakura. He’s down.”
Juzo doesn’t even finish making his way around the horse before responding.
“Muzzle him.”
“That was fast…”
“If he’s a despair, that silver tongue of his could turn you faster. Every second he is able to speak is another thousand people at risk.”
He turns to Munakata, then.
“You’re going to be scanned. Speak and your life ends here. You of all people should get it.”
Munakata is hopelessly pinned to the floor before he can even process what's going on. Crying out in frustration he struggles against the pressure above him, tugging at the boot against his neck.
The ringing is only just done clearing from his ears when he hears a name that makes his heart run cold. For a moment his muscles freeze and his eye widens in fear.
"Sakakura—?" The word is familiar in his mouth but his own voice has become foreign to him.
The voice he hears back is cold and professional, but unmistakably Sakakura. The light is dim and Munakata is confused and concussed, but he knows that Sakakura is looking him right in the eye when he addresses him next. Threats him.
Munakata falls silent, but he continues to struggle weakly against his captor. His life, his sentence, is here. He will not go willingly, no matter the stakes against him.
@kiyomeru
Two years ago, Juzo Sakakura died on the floor of a red-lit room, struggling to the last moment to breathe through the cauterized holes in his lungs.
Two weeks after that, he woke up in a hospital bed. He was given the following information before his brain even came down from the morphine.
One, Kyosuke Munakata was missing.
Two, the Remnants had escaped.
Three - the Future Foundation was his.
It took three months to heal his injuries enough to return to work. The surgeries were extensive and invasive, and he distinctly remembers a doctor telling him about how they had to pull feet upon feet of his intestines into the open to find where the cuts and burns were. Some of it was salvageable, most of it wasn’t. His stomach is entirely new.
But that was years ago. Today, it’s the start of summer. He and his special ops team are on a boat.
He never did stop trying.
“The cave has freshwater access.” One of his agents says, moving to his side. "And vegetation along the coastline. It’s been habitable for a long time.“
"It’d need to.”
The boat pulls up to a spot right outside of the entrance. Two of them get out first - Piper - armed with an axe, and Danielle with a harpoon gun. Two others stay behind - a girl a few years younger than Sakakura, and a boy not much younger than her.
"You two stay here. If anything goes south, flee and circle back. Don’t get captured. Neither of you would hold up well under torture.“
With that, Juzo nods at Piper, and she and her wife fall into formation at his flank.
Sakakura covers his eyes with the back of his hand as a grenade goes off in the entrance. It’s completely harmless, only emitting a high-pitched ring and an extremely bright flash that could very easily knock one off balance in broad daylight, let alone the light of a cave. When the ringing fades, the three of them step inside.
… There’s a lot of things that Juzo has to work to keep out of his voice. Longing. Relief. Inconceivable rage. He’s good at that, though. And being lit only from the sunlight behind him, flanked by Piper and Danielle’s intimidating silhouettes, he’s even better.
"Ho-ly shit. I don’t think you’ve ever looked worse.”
He's been alone for a long while.
The seasons offer his only measurement of time, and he rarely goes outside. The world is dead. He will only find Despair out there.
This wasn't his intention; none of it was. The first few weeks he spent wandering, surviving on scraps and supplies packed in his bag or picked from corpses. One night, after traipsing aimlessly across the shore he was caught in a prolonged rainstorm, took shelter in this cave and never left. Fashioning a bed, seat, and firepit out of the rock using the molten heat of his sword Munakata has made a life for himself here to sit and regret.
Predators sometimes enter the cave; he kills them and dries their meat for the winter. When the Despairs arrive he takes supplies from their bodies.
He's checking one of his nets near the cave's entrance when he hears footsteps. His hand reaches for the sword stowed in his ragged beltloop. And he moves to hide where the shadows conceal him when an impossibly bright light overwhelms his senses. A screech sounds louder even than his own thoughts and he cries out, covering his ears with his palms and closing his eye as tightly shut as he can manage.
When the assault subsides and he's able to open his eyes, he sees only vague silhouettes flushed against the sunlight. They're here to kill him. Whoever they are. Lunging forward with his sword, he tries in vain to kill his intruders.
hey munakata can I get a fuckin uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh place by your side when you take the world back from the clutches of despair and also a cummie
No.
hello my old heart, how have you been.
how is it being locked away?
don’t you worry, in there you’re safe.
and it’s true, you’ll never beat. but you’ll never break.
juzo sakakura + kyosuke munakata.
written by benji + reed.
bareknuckle:
Despair, huh.
Who is he to say that’s not the case.
The rot that plagues the existing world infects the mind of Enoshima’s followers - outer despair and the crumble of civilization are only a reflection of true decay within. She plants it there - grows it and lets it fester like a fungus, and only when it is ripe and matured does it manifest in the form of death, of fire, of men holding a handful of their own spilled insides in one hand and a bonesaw in another -
…It’s only in the later stages that they begin to crave it in themselves, crave that effect - maybe the seed she planted inside of him never flourished, never took root. But an oak is still an oak when it’s a seedling. Perhaps the same could be said of despair he doesn’t covet.
Enoshima used what she needed to, and she knew what she needed to. That was always an inarguable truth. Do not let despair know. Do not let them have this.
Oh. But she already does.
It’s for that reason that Sakakura makes no move to defend himself. But the decision to give Munakata the truth has always involved every piece of it, so he answers.
“…She’s as good as they say.”
And she is. It isn’t praise. Her talent is something they’ve known of all along.
“Enoshima Junko blackmailed me. She knew the only thing about me that she could twist, that she could use - the only way she could get me to lie to you…”
He wonders now if the whole truth involves that - and it’s not because he’s still afraid. It’d be forward, yeah, and he wishes more than anything that he could tell him under different circumstances, but…
…what she was really saying, what Enoshima really held over him ( he’d be disgusted with you, you know that - he’d hate you for loving him, for loving another man ) isn’t a factor anymore. Munakata is the same. Munakata wants him.
…wanted.
( The point still stands, though. )
…Now, telling him feels selfish, like a last-ditch attempt to keep him from walking out that door. I’m in love with you is a phrase that’s both summoned and halted death. He doesn’t deserve to wield it.
Even so…
…This may very well be the last chance he has. If Munakata truly believes him to be one of them, he’ll drive a stake into his heart. That was the arrangement they have always, always agreed on. And if Sakakura Juzo is to die holding this secret inside of him, Munakata will never know. It died with Enoshima and the reserve course, and it would die again with him.
If for nothing else, he deserves to know. He does.
“ - Enoshima… knew I was in love with you.”
That the Remnant--does he deserve to bear the name of his closest friend? Is Sakakura still in there?--makes no move to attack, or overwhelm comes as a shock. He seeks to bring despair with words, then--let the fragments of suggestions hang around like shrapnel in his brain until it rots, until he is reduced to no more than a pawn, a puppet to the endless chaos. In many ways this form of despair is far more dangerous than its other, more violent brethren--impossible to see until it’s too late, it seeps through every opening and into every heart it can reach. Munakata stands on guard, and slips his hand into his pocket.
There the hilt of his sword is dead weight, ever a reminder to stay vigilant, be ready for anything--even to smite down those he cares for most. It’s what must be done--he knows this, knows that there is no other path for a Remnant of Despair than death, quickly and clinically by his hand or in a blazing fury by their own which swallows everyone unfortunate enough to be caught in it.
It’s the kind thing to do. To save them from themselves.
But he can’t--not here, not while his power is still minute and his every move is under scrutiny, betrayed and cast aside by the very same man he’d once been proud to follow.
...He can’t. So he listens as the story unfurls itself, as his conviction wavers--as the word blackmail is mentioned, then love--
Love...?
When Sakakura is done, all of a sudden he can see no clean-cut way to categorise him--hope or despair?--and Munakata finds himself at a total loss for words.
Yukizome... was she blackmailed, too...?
It’s a situation he’s never encountered before, never had to--for the world consists only of despair and its victims, remnants and survivors.
The Sakakura he has always known is a victim.
The Sakakura he now knows lied to him about Enoshima Junko.
The Sakakura before him now is telling him all of this openly and freely and for the life of him he doesn’t understand--why would a Remnant tell him all this? Why?
But, Munakata thinks, if he was blackmailed, then--
“...What...?”
--then, what does that mean?
Is he a Remnant or not...?!
(...And,for now, the word love pushes itself into the back of his head; dormant and most likely unprocessed until later, much later.)
