20+. đlost in cyberspace. writing my whole life away and filling it with dreamy fictional people.
warning: this blog sees dark content from time to time which means upsetting topics might be referenced. please take any warnings into consideration and approach carefully.
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ongoing works:
chasing humanity (ongoing): multi chapter piece with a yandere kenjaku x equally yandere f!reader, dd:dne with slow-ish updates.
an imp in faeâs clothing (paused): multi chapter piece with a yandere fae x f!reader who slowly becomes a villain over his love for a human who caught his curiosity. slow-ish updates.
flatline (ongoing): multi chapter piece of being isekaiâd into jjk but landing right at kenjakuâs feet as opposed to anyone else. kenjaku x reader; dd:dne, canon universe.
shorter pieces:
choose your own yandere adventure: choso
calling ur jjk fav an unc đ¤
when your visual novel becomes reality (horror, x gn reader)
in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 9) poll winner: shoko takes the sneaky route (mixed pov)
a/n: had a sleepy week so the update took a bit longer, my bad. meant to post it yesterday. we will consider this part the bridge to him being scary in the upcoming part, depending on what we choose. warning for yandere as usual.
< previous part ⢠from the beginning
Choso could only stare down at Shoko, who he was still certain was bound properly, still helpless and meant for the ocean. Something close to guilt surfaced in him, but only briefly, and then the feeling washed away. It was only because things had gotten as complicated as they had, that he was having second thoughts, but it was far too late to back out now. Initially, he wished to ease you into a life closer to him his way, but the little crush he had spiralled into a full-blown obsession, and now he had to finalise it, lest he be found out.
Shoko, on the other hand, tried to hold herself together. She met his eyes in a false panic, looking just distressed enough to fool him; her eyes were wide, and she forced her breathing to be erratic, but beneath that, she was plotting. Behind her back, her hands were almost free, and the bindings were almost loose. All she needed to do now was to keep her mouth shut for a bit longer and wait for the right moment, determined to outlive the fate he had for her.
Choso tried again to ask her for a final say, just because he felt it was the right thing to do, despite the situation he was forcing her to be in. âAnything you want to pass onto her?â he asked, meaning you.
However, Shoko shook her head, managing a weak, orchestrated, âNo,â hoping that her resignation sounded real enough to convince him.
Choso nodded slowly at that, seemingly satisfied, thinking that he was successful in this way, because he had shut down someone who tried to intervene with his plans. He ended up not pressing her on the matter any further, thinking that it was a punishment enough for her to be in this situation at all.
Shoko let out a slow breath of air as she watched him begin to walk away, exhausted for many reasons, but keen on escaping whatever sort of mess she had gotten herself inâwith you, of course. It was insulting in a way, after all, that this man had any claim towards your life, approaching you and everything else in your life in a way that felt invasive. If you had gotten a boyfriend of your own accordâfineâshe would have grilled them lightly just to see if they were a good fit or not, but this was different. This was a nosy neighbour who became infatuated with you and dared to believe that he had a right to you.
Aside from that, she noticed something written on his face that she might just be able to save you, if exploited:
If his fixation on you made him reckless, then escape wasnât completely out of the question just yet.
~~~
In the meantime, you lay in the cold airy interior of the van in disbelieving silence, still tryingâand failingâto process the thought of how quickly it all went wrongâagain. Just one moment ago, you had actually managed to break free, and at the next second, you were shoved back into this dreary place again as if nothing had changed at all. Even worse yet, Shoko had been dragged into this whole mess, and Choso seemed horribly serious about making her disappear.
Also, God. Your head was throbbing as the residual weakness from earlier hadnât subsided at all, but bloomed into a persistent ache. In addition to that, the panic persisted. It was so bad that it made it difficult to breathe in full amounts, making you feel lightheaded with each inhale. A realisation pushed through as you tried to get yourself together, coming to understand that if this was his attempt at pushing you closer to him, you hated Choso for putting you in this position at all. In fact, if his end goal was to keep you hidden and his, then you rejected that notion completely. You would never feel anything for him in the way he wanted.
Though you knew he would try, you forced yourself to move.
Your wrists were still bound, but the ropes were loosening up a little. Likely when he was stuffing you both into the van and driving awayâlikely very quicklyâhe had to do so in a hurry. You could feel your flesh under the bindings be rubbed raw, but you could ignore the pain if it had meant an out. The van doors, also, were not properly fixed and you could tell: merely just forced back into place, but given how they groaned against the breeze outside, you stood a chance to break them upon. Indeedâyou tried again, and again, stretching the restraints on your wrists until your arms were free, scrambling forward with a shaky hand to pull the tape from your face; to untie your legs, before working at the doors with all that you hadâOnce. Twice. Then once more again, until finally, they gave out with a sharp jolt.
Though, rather than run out blindly into the night, you dropped down to hide just under the vehicle, tucking yourself into the coarse sand. Partially, you had done so to steady yourself, but also because you did not dare risk colliding with him by accident. You didnât want to waste the chance that you felt was already wasted once before, and more than anything else, you owed it to Shoko to get her out of this nightmare.
Goodness. You wanted freedom so badly. That was the part that was eating away at you now; that made you so open to all of those bad ideas from before. You should have quietly sat in his apartment and waited for him to slip off elsewhere, then attempted to escape then. Now, you were far from home and isolated by the sea. It just felt like the fault was yours, even if that wasnât the case at all. None of what happened was because of you, and yet, the feeling stubbornly persisted.
Though, just as quickly as you were out, you had to stifle your thoughts soon after, because Choso came stomping back over the sand, only to slow the moment he likely saw the doors fluttering against the van. You held your breath and kept yourself still beneath it, hoping that both the crashing waves and coastal winds could drown out your gasping panic.
From where you were hidden otherwise, you could only make out his shoes shifting around in the dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight whenever it had filtered through the clouds. Then came a rough grunt of frustration, likely over the fact that you were nowhere to be found. You almost found yourself feeling sorry over how desperate he soundedâalmostâif not for the hellish situation he was keen on putting you through. You stayed as quiet as possible throughout his outburst, only exhaling at long last when he rounded the van, and tucked himself away into the driverâs seat, slamming the door on impact.
Then, soon after, the engine came to life. The sound was so sudden that it made you flinch, locking you into position as he slowly rolled away. You wanted to move, but another part of you remained frozen, praying that he hadnât seen you from the illumination of the rear lights, from the moon, from whatever else could have given you away, but soon enough it was just you alone flat against the dark. After a few more seconds, you forced yourself to thaw and move, scrambling against the sand and towards the sound of the crashing waves up ahead.
When you did get there, though, it was impossible to tell where on earth she must have been, because especially at night, the water was especially dark; inky black even beneath the moonlit glow whenever it passed. The waves were just as disorienting too; loudly crashing against each other like harsh static, making you feel nauseous yet again. Both from being seemingly alone in the dark where your best friend was potentially drowning, or worse yet, already dead, but also with the knowledge that your captor was out there, actively searching for you. To make matters worse, you could sort of hear the van coming back around, slowly away in the distance, as if Choso was taking his good sweet time to spot you.
Then, you heard footsteps shuffle along the sandy surface, jolting out of your own skin, thinking that somehow it must have been him, even if that much were impossible. When you turned around to face the sound, you were met with Shoko, who was wet and shaking, visibly exhausted, but ultimately free.
âOh good, youâre also out,â she stated, her relief evident despite her trembling voice. She was trying so hard to keep it steady, but between the cold clinging to her still damp skin and the deeper unease of someone having tried to kill her, it was difficult to keep things together at all.
For a second, it looked as if she might have reached for you, but she stopped herself in the last second. Though, you finalised the contact anyway, stepping forward and clinging to her with all that you had. You were thankful that she was here with you, because you needed familiar company, but you were also so guilty at the same time, because she did not deserve to be.
âYouâre okay?â you whispered, sounding breathless. âYouâre really okay?â
âYeah,â she forced a laugh. âI managed to get freeâŚâ she trailed off, clearly wanting to say more, but then her gaze snapped towards the direction of the van when she heard it in the distance. The reminder that Choso was still out there and looking for you filled her with a dread that she could not hide.
âSo, the good news is that he probably thinks Iâm dead by now,â she speculated with that dry tone of hers, trying to cope with the events. âOr⌠in the process of dying,â she added on a whim. âHis guard might be let down if he thinks itâs just you out here, but even so, heâs dangerous. We shouldnât think we have the advantage just because heâs thrown off.â
You swallowed hard as the reality of her words hit you. âSo what exactly do we do?â
Shoko took a deep, steadying breath.
âI think we have two options here,â she began, starting to flinch at every sound just in case he had somehow caught up, despite the van still rumbling away in the distance, âwe can try to knock him out and take the van, or we can try to stealthily avoid him and escape that way.â
You drew in a deep breath as you glanced around the dark, on occasion the moon would highlight the vast coastline, but that was the issue: it was endless. At the same time, her other plan was terrifying too, because so much risked going wrong.
âIâm not sure about either,â you admitted, âwe look like weâre somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and I also donât think weâre in the right state of mind to gang up on him.â
âHeâs just as out of it as we are,â Shoko was quick to insist. âI could tell. He was starting to lose it a little, so if he canât see you, and if he thinks Iâm gone, then heâs going to start making mistakes.â
As if on cue, the van closed in again, but when the engine died down, a sudden horn blared a few times on repeat. You imagined him hitting the wheel out of frustration, which somehow unsettled you, considering that despite his actions, he seemed quiet to you.
Shoko flinched at the sound but managed to fix you with a weak smile. âSee?â she pointed out. âHeâs just as on edge too. I think no matter what we choose, we might just get away with it.â
You gulped heavily as you considered her words, knowing you had to make a choice soon.
âWell, I suppose we can try toâŚâ you started, your words trailing off as you thought of the better decision to make, âtoâŚâ
What do you decide on?
Trying to sneak away from him and hoping he loses track of both of you
Team up with Shoko to try and steal his van and drive away
next chapter is around ~8k words so itâll be cooking for a while, thereâs a lot to get through but i always update eventually :) just canât say when properly, maybe in a week or two?
In which Kenjaku occupies a female vessel for the first time in countless years, and takes their time to become familiar with the body.
Kenjaku is referred to by they/them pronouns, the body is AFAB. 3rd person perspective. Masturbation, but psychological horror; this does not present as typical erotica. Squirting, nipple stimulation, sad nipple syndrome, dildo use, A-spot orgasm, vaginismus, brain fluid mentioned, there's a dead body (no it is not necro), Kenjaku's internal perspective is not reflective of my own views. Obviously. If you want to interpret this as Kaori, you can, but I left it vague on purpose.
As usual, consult the tags for TW/CW. Respect yourselves and your neighbors. Heed your own DNI. Comments are very greatly appreciated, I'll give you a cookie as an incentive to do so.
It's always a treat to acclimate to a foreign body past the initial phase of cellular recalibration, to sift through their memories, dissect the person they were, watch their life as if it were a private movie for their criticism alone. There's much to learn via observation, but there's a certain aspect that isn't as easily understood secondhand;
Sexual pleasure.
Yes, they can see every instance of intimacy in the memories left behind, watch the act as a voyeur while feeling no arousal of their own; but it's a stale picture, utterly static in most cases across the lifetimes of those they take. The one way mirror effect lacks the embodiment of sensation one feels in the midst of the throes, the plethora of stimulation in all its forms. The entire purpose of the act is removed. The human body is a doll strung with nerves, and each ending is felt differently by each body and nervous system. Sex means nothing if there's not something to be gained or novel to be witnessed through it. The plain act of it becomes so animal without these factors, and Kenjaku can't be bothered to chase something so predictable.
However, every vessel comes with a unique opportunity. Even if the life they lived was wrought with normalcy and boredom, their body still possessed the potential for more. That's one of the greatest beauties of human biology, how susceptible the anatomy is to change, physical and otherwise. If a body has yet to experience stimulation to the fullest, then all the better for this ancient sorcerer. Taking someone's firsts as their own to experience for them is a little wonder that never ceases to lose effect, something elusive in their prolonged kairos. In a few previous cases, they had opted to test the vessel to be before they had even died, with the sole purpose of adding a bit of spice to the memory slideshow, then comparing how it feels again once piloting the body themselves. That route offered the added egoistic detail of watching themselves through the vessel's memory, which always proved fun to witness.
Such was not the case here. This individual's recollection was especially bland. They could hardly suppress a yawn whilst surveying the events of the life. The process is hardly necessary in this case, but one could call them nosey. The ability alone is a gift unique to their cursed technique, and they certainly don't believe in squandered commodities.
Thus, here they are, laid lax in the very bed they overtook their new suit in, lashes resting on their cheeks; still cold. There's a restlessness to this form that only amplifies their disdain for monotony. They dislike anxious flesh. The lack of full control over the urge to shake their leg in a vain effort to soothe the creeping feeling within the muscles is maddening.
But, there are more entertaining methods to distract this poor evolutionary flaw that simultaneously offer a scratch to that itch for a taste of novelty, while also assisting in properly warming the vessel from the grip of rigor mortis. The memories they viewed reflected a rather unceremonious intimate life, nothing adventurous, and painfully lacking even in the department of self exploration. They'll certainly be fixing that.
They can already feel the meat around them responding to their thoughts, the excitement at the prospect of fresh discoveries and the innate perversion their technique comes with. Possessing the ability to simply insert oneself into another, fully uproot their life and all within it with full control, contains a rush that many of their vessels seem to translate into a more bodily pleasure. This one seems no different, given how their erogenous zones have already began to tingle and seep warmth.
They raise a hand to their stolen face, a featherlight touch tracing the curve of the jaw, down the column of the throat, lingering longer over the spots that had the skin shuddering. Lower still, over decolletage, down the valley between the swell of the breasts. This body had never taken the time to appreciate itself properly if even this little touch stirred it. How one could live inside themselves for any period without scrutiny almost disgusts the arousal right out of them.
Something stronger, then. They guide the hand over the plump flesh, slow enough to memorize the feel of the fingertips, pausing just shy of the nipple. Kenjaku knows already that this is an area of particular sensitivity for this body.
So they pinch the nub, quick and hard, the muscles of the back tensing into an arch, an unfamiliar voice crooning a moan they muffle. The nervous response is tantalizing, a zap that pierces the flesh with an aftershock of an odd sorrow. Not that Kenjaku truly felt it as an emotion, but recognized the response from prior vessels of the womanly sex. The more their fingers lingered, rolling the poor peak between them, the more it grew. This body aches to cry from the touch alone, opening the door for a pseudo dynamic of sadomasochism within itself created by the parasite within.
That, moreso than the physical sensations, elicits a real response from the abnormal brain themselves. They can torture this vessel from beyond death with nary a touch, bringing these eyes to tears so easily. This is the hedonistic thrill they wanted, and they'll need more than just this small sample.
This vessel did seemingly have an explanation for its lack of sexual prowess; a heavy memory from early life, just another common horror that most women experience at some point or another. Watching it occur through her eyes directly, though secondhand, swayed nothing for the sorcerer. What they valued in gaining this information was the possibility of how they could play with it.
Their puppeteered hands alone would not suffice for what they had in mind. They won't be finding stimulation in the usual tried and true method for those with feminine anatomy; no, realism was what was required in order to feel the full brunt of this body's panic, the depth of the phantom fear. They intend to capitalize on this soul's trauma to the fullest.
Of course they'd done their homework before hopping bodies. They had known of the formative happening on paper, and had switched prepared for the tinkering they'd enact. Just an arms reach away, proud even in its resting atop the nightstand, is the largest possible silicone instrument they could find; within reason. A length of about twelve inches, ten insertable, the rest taken up by artificially molded balls. Ideal for an easier grasp of the thing, given the weight of the four inch girth throughout. They can't help the cruel smirk that crosses the face they wear; they'd done a sweep of the medical records.
This poor, pitiful soul suffered from vaginismus. Memories of great difficulty handling feminine products and gynecological exams gone awry cross their mind.
It's nearly a shame they'd already managed to stimulate the body enough for them to self lubricate. It still shouldn't be adequate enough to take the toy without pain, but hindsight wants to call it a missed opportunity for a fuller experience. Perhaps another time.
Taking toy in hand, Kenjaku is nearly caught off by just how heavy the thing feels in this hand in comparison to the arm of the male vessel prior, which lie discarded in the floor nearby; an afterthought to be handled after they have a bit of fun. They can't resist wobbling the silicone about, feeling how the scant muscle of the arm tenses with the movement. They certainly did not choose this body for strength.
They don't bother with much overture, opting instead to slide the thick tip of the toy right between their labia, testing just how much slick had procured. Not enough, at the least. They shift their position, lying back with the slightest bit of a sideways lean, knees parted and open with the feet planted atop the sheet below. Just the right amount of taxing to reach with their hand firmly holding the toy by the density of the balls. They nudge the head hard against the mouth of the narrow canal, tension already making itself known. An involuntary shudder follows, something deep within not only the body, but where the soul once resided aching in protest. Again, they prod, harder this time, the plump lips catching around the thing. They pull them apart with the free hand, making the entry that much more accessible. Both hands are shaking now, rife with tremors that typically Kenjaku would manually overpower. This, they want to feel, to enjoy what they can make the flesh do to torment the residuals of the soul.
The hand slips, sending the toy straight up to ram against the vessels clit, painful enough to earn both a jolt and a laugh. They don't sit through the sensation to let it pass, not after feeling just how tightly the body wound itself in response. This time they push the tip forward with all the force they can muster in this body, the silicone popping through the initial stringent inches of velveteen muscle. Oh, the tears that follow, the warring of the learned trauma of the flesh, the poor attempt at rejection, and the flood of pleasure chemicals within their very brain; a drug of their own making, unique only to Kenjaku, to rape the very body they occupied.
They themselves had been on the opposite end of the act, several times, for utility moreso than desire. But in this way, under these pretenses, there was an added layer that sated something in them. The cerebral pleasure-bodily pain was delectable in dichotomy, urging their hand to thrust forward again despite every nerve begging to cease this. The friction was immense, sharp, stinging, while an acute burn built behind their abdomen. The penetration is almost impossible with just how harshly the body rejects it.
"Don't deny me,"
The hormones brewing a cocktail within their brain has them feeling cloudy enough to talk through the act, as if the original soul of the body could still hear them. The flat affect of their language being carried on this voice, narrating their own assault, has them panting harder as the body protests the intrusion with more vigor.
"Your mind betrays you, your own voice, your hands, your pain, nothing of you is truly yours anymore."
Kenjaku finally jams the toy through the juncture of muscle, nesting it right against the familiar bump of a cervix. The effort has it landing hard, again sending them writhing on the object, their tongue lolling from their lips before their teeth dig into them.
Their wrist works fast now, bumping the insertion hard and quick against the flesh, searching for a very specific sensation from the anterior wall. They find it, despite the muscles refusing them, the strain of the clench only making it easier. They abuse that spot, not daring to move in full thrusts, ignoring the fatigue building in the wrist, while fully sinking into the warm, full body resonance that this particular patch of magic builds so swiftly.
"Yes, that's right; you'll cum for me. You'll cum for me like this, in a way you'd never known possible by your anatomy. Submit to me,"
It only takes mere fleeting seconds. Their other hand works in tandem, pressing their fist hard against where the bladder lay hiding, the pressure thickening the growing sensation as it mounts, only stopping when Kenjaku is rendered fully paralyzed by a full body ricochet of forced bliss. They try to wiggle their hand against the toy throughout, to fuck themselves through it, but the vice of the cunt propels the toy out in the reverberating waves of orgasm. They do nothing to fight how the body curls in on itself, pulsing and heaving through the sensations, sobbing in an expression of sinful duality. The groin and thighs are coated in slick and wetness, the sheets beneath them sodden. Kenjaku's fresh stitching leaks the metallic tang of cerebrospinal fluid, their brain dizzied temporarily as the pulsing passes.
They simply lie there for a spell, indulging in the feminine afterglow, so much more potent than the masculine equivalent. Not for any sort of sentimentality, but to let the body take it in. They could've forced the body to behave under their will from the start, especially given how weak this particular soul was compared to others they'd stolen from, but the indulgence was worth the ritual. A symbolic transition that they found amusement in. If nothing else, this offered them a chance to get more familiar with the fine tuning of this flesh. The body, now fully theirs, unfurls across the bed as they prop themselves up, resting their face against their knuckles as their attention drifts to the slow rot of their previous face.
They've got a brainless corpse to feed to a curse somewhere; they'll be playing with other firsts of this new body later, when they inevitably grow bored again.
in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 8) poll winner: you took the left turn
trigger warnings: lightly described violence, disturbing themes, tried to keep him in character here but itâs a bit difficult when the yandere-isms start to surface đŤ
< previous part ⢠from the beginning
From the very moment you could bring yourself to stand, you shot up to your feet within a beat, even if you did feel a bit unsteady. You looked around, both to your left and right, having no real indication of where to go, lunging blindly towards the left on a whim and hoped for the best.
The van he had otherwise left you in was parked a bit out of the way, but it had to still be close enough to where he needed to be, so by sheer chance, you ended up stumbling into the park anyway. Sounds from all over every corner and turn carried over to where you were, but you had yet to see a single soul as you drifted further into it. The thought of him and Shoko, likely being somewhere nearby, sat badly with you, as you remembered his plan to meet her at all.
You couldnât help but wonder how that must have played out.
Shoko, after all, was cautious by nature and certainly not the sort of person that one could easily fool. She would never accept a substitute standing in your place, telling her that you wanted to withdraw from everything and everyone, nor would she have accepted itâif Choso did allow you to meet with her insteadâif your words sounded too rehearsed. You hoped that he was put in his place when he realised he couldnât fool her so easily, because you wanted him above all to take a step back from all of this and leave you alone.
Then, your stomach dropped altogether as you rounded a corner, the sight of them both coming into view. By sheer chance, you happened upon two familiar figures in the distance that you could clearly recognise, but they were locked in a fight against each other. It was so messy that your mind could almost not comprehend what it was looking at, before you forced yourself to look again. There was Choso, yes, you could unfortunately recognise his silhouette well enough by now, but also Shoko, too, though her hair was everywhere, lightly concealing her face. Her head was caught in his grip, leaving you to finally understand that something urgent was happening.
God. Had you gone the other wayâif you had taken any other turn before getting hereâyou would have left Shoko completely at his mercyâor lack thereof. Panic surged within you at the very thought, and without thinking it through, a sudden urge to intervene guided you closer towards them both. You ran at them from behind, throwing yourself into trying to wrench him off of her, and when that immediately failed, you next tried to wedge yourself in between them both to pry them apart.
Shokoâs eyes widened from the moment she saw you, looking all desperate and breathless from the effort of wrestling out of his grip. Choso, on the other hand, did not register you right away. He shoved you down as if you were a mere obstacle with a brutal throw, only understanding a moment later what he had done at all. He, too, had to take a second to process what he was seeing. For one, you were no longer in the van where he had left you, and somehow, by sheer coincidence, you managed to find him in a situation he did not want to be in to begin with.
The second he understood that he might have hurt you, his hands fell away from Shoko, who, despite herself, lurched to distance you from him altogether, dropping to her knees beside you and pulling you back with her.
Choso froze at the sight, his hands curling into fists as he tried to calm himself down.
âYouâre okay?â Shoko asked you at once. âYouâre not hurt anywhere?â
You were still trying to catch your breath as you replied, your stomach in pain from where his hand had connected, but also from the burst of adrenaline. âIâm fine,â you panted out. âArâAre you?â
Shoko nodded, and relief settled in you, but then you flinched at the looming figure still standing right beside you both, understanding all too well that this was not over just yet.
âYou have to understand,â he started, trying to keep his voice as level as he could possibly manage, âI didnât want to hurt anyone to begin with, but things have gotten very, very complicated.â
Shoko let out a strained laugh over the audacity of his reasoning. âComplicated?â she repeated. âYou attacked me.â
âBecause you were going to report me,â Choso reasoned, quick to justify himself. âI know what Iâm doing is wrong, Iâm not denying that, but I canât help butââ he broke off, his hands now trembling at his sides. âI canât help what I want, and it makes me actââ
âWhat you want?â you suddenly broke out, turning on him to cast a look that was almost pleading. âWhat about what I want?â you asked him, because with everything that had happened so far, you had been barely given a chance to fend for yourself at all, let alone get a word out that you werenât interested in him in the same way he was with you. âI donât want any of this, so why are you putting me through literal hell?â
Choso took a small step forward, and Shoko let out a sharp, defensive sound of protest as he did. She hated how helpless she felt, and you hated it too, because nothing seemed to be getting through to him.
âI canât explain it well at all,â he continued, trying to make himself both look and sound less imposing, less threatening, âbut itâs just⌠I really do want whatâs best for you,â he insisted, his eyes fixed on yours. âIâm very bad at showing it, I wonât deny that, but if you just let me take care of you, then I can take you away from all of this⌠the stress, the obstacles, theââ he suddenly stopped, his expression falling from pleading to heartbroken when he saw the frightened look on your face. âPlease donât look at me like that. Iâm serious. I donât want to hurt you.â
You hesitated, but before you could reject him once more, Shoko misinterpreted your reaction as pity.
âDonât you dare feel bad for him,â she hissed, yanking your arm back. âHeâs unwell. Canât you see that?â
âThatâs not what Iââ you gasped out.
Choso cut in at once, sending the opening while he still had it. âHow about this, then? If you come with me without making even more of a scene, then your friend doesnât have to die.â
That much worked to cease the bickering between you both, but in the worst possible way.
Shoko froze. âWhat?â
âW-wait, wait, what do you meââ you started as well, your words landing messily as panic gripped you.
âIâm sorry,â Choso stopped you both, shaking his head and looking genuinely pained by the whole thing. âI really am so sorry, but I canât just let you go freely. You would alert the police, and Iâll be in even more trouble,â he sighed, considering his options. âBut⌠I can let you go somewhere else. Where I decide.â
Shoko paused, not feeling too great about what Choso must have meant about somewhere else. She looked around her, shooting you a charged, desperate look. âWait. Thereâs only one of him. Two of us. If we split up, then we canââ
Choso, however, did not seem at all interested in a chase. He wanted to do right by you, but in his attempt to do so, he had landed himself in a situation that was difficult to get out of. He needed to retake control and figure out how to put a lid on this whole mess without attracting even more unwanted attention. He ended up moving decisively to grab you, provoking Shoko to suddenly lunge forward in an attempt to keep you away from him, pulling you back, but he was still much stronger. He took you back as soon as he had a good hold on you, hauling you over his shoulder with one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady.
Then, as Shoko started to pull away, a soft whine of fear leaving her lips, he drove down to prevent her escape before she could get too far. He drove her down beneath his boot, crushing the air out of her lungs, then crouched down to reassume the chokehold, dragging you both back in the direction he arrived from. He didnât care if there were witnesses or how horrible this must have looked because all he cared about right there and then was getting you both away and to a location where he could control the outcome.
âDonât scream,â he muttered under his breath to you. âDonât scream if you want her to live. Youâll stay quiet, okay?â
You tried to stifle your sobs as he spoke, but the tears kept on rolling anyway, making the swaying ground blur as he walked. Your breathing turned uneven as you tried to keep awake, but the panic rose too fast, and then you couldnât help but pass out. Everything felt awful, stressed and scary; of course, you couldnât handle it. Of course, you passed out.
~~~
When you next came around, you woke up to find yourself back in the van, but this time it was moving. It was the soft rattling sound that awoke you, but otherwise it was dark inside. The door was no longer as open as it had been before, and somewhere in the cramped space, you could hear a strained noise nearby.
As you blinked, you tilted your head up, coming to meet with Shoko from across you, lying on her side, tied up and gagged. Her dark eyes were fixed on yours, and she tried to shuffle forward, but it was almost impossible to do so given the bumpy ride.
All you could do was just lie in the pained silence otherwise, until, after what felt like far too long, the van gradually slowed down. Judging by the transition from a solid road onto a softer surface, and from the smell of salt drifting in through the narrow gap of the doors, you guessed you were by the sea. The ocean was nearby, and you could hear heavy waves crashing.
Once the van had stopped and Choso had gotten out, a cold sense of unease gripped you once more. His footsteps were muted, and it sounded as though sand was being kicked beneath his feet, which made sense given the location, but you couldnât for the life of you figure out why he had brought you both here.
When he opened the doors, you could barely see him as it was now night. Choso could see you, though. He looked momentarily relieved to see you awake, but then, as his attention moved to Shoko, any softness in his eyes had hardened at once.
âYou were unconscious, so I suppose you didnât hear me before,â he started, his voice grim, âbut the plan is to leave her somewhere around here.â
Choso looked around, leaning away from the van, keeping his hands curled around the doors. âAlive, of course,â he added softly, âbut that wonât last long. Not if the tide is high tonight.â
His eyes moved sideways again, towards the beach. The sand there was already damp in places, still visible under the moonlight, but only time stood between that spot and the water. If he walked Shoko out pretty far into the coast, then the ocean could take her.
âIf she manages to get loose, though, then Iâll respect it,â he continued.
You looked like you wanted to speak, and Choso paused, stepping into the van to let you try.
âThereâs nobody out here,â he said, looking around again as he peeled away the tape from your skin. âI drove around twice to be sure. You can scream, but nobody will hear you.â
He then exhaled through his nose, sounding almost tired. âI⌠I really donât like doing things like this, you know? I donât like hurting people. I donât like making them suffer because of what Iâve done,â he continued, his jaw tightening with each word. âI just⌠I just canât help myself. I donât know. Iâve never felt like this around anyone, so no, I canât explain it, but⌠I just feel better when youâre around me. Thatâs all.â
You tried to repeat your earlier plea. âWhat about what I want?â you asked.
Choso looked at you, but he didnât answer you, and instead, he stepped back, dragging Shoko out by the rope, his jaw set tight so he didnât have to say anything else. He left you behind in the van, still tied up, then lowered her onto the sand, taking a brief look toward the horizon yet again.
âThe temperatures get pretty low,â he spoke in a low murmur, more to himself than her, as if to justify the horror of what he was about to commit. âItâll probably be the cold that gets to you first, but donât worry, I read that itâs like⌠going to sleep. First, your body goes numb, and then the rest catches up.â
Shoko could only stare at him, her eyes wide.
As Choso looked at her, though, he started to get second thoughts about this whole thing. He considered untying her, but he thought better of it. The most he allowed himself to do was to also remove the tape from her lips, figuring that she at least deserved a few last words.
Shoko, however, was already straining against the bindings, close to wriggling free, but she knew better than to run away so soon. She had to do so when he thought she was gone, so she could save you both.
What does she do?
Try to talk him out of it while he was still giving her a chance to speak.
Quietly break free from the bindings and catch him off guard later on.
following an accident in your home world that caused your death, you found yourself awake in a place that was awfully familiar, and before a person you never hoped to meet.
chapter summary: remnants of your previous life continue to haunt you in your dreams, and in wakefulness, kenjaku tries to manipulate your favour to benefit him.
read on ao3 â previous chapter ⢠next chapter >
Chapter 2. Between Worlds
The moment your vision had faded away again, you found yourself back in the dark once more, but without the awful sensation that your lungs were on fire and that your body was being crushed from all sides. Wherever you were now felt, in contrast, almost weightless, like you were floating in a bottomless void, with no hint as to where it ended, let alone began.
You could in this space also tell, to some degree, that you were no longer breathing, let alone longer beingâexistingâin that right. Remnants of what remained from your old life briefly surfaced, but only as flashes of emotion, and far away from memory. You could recount phases of sensation: of fear, of comfort, of relief, and finally, as it all went blank, of profound resentment.
When this feeling settled, so did your body; sinking far enough to hit something solid, even if there were no defining borders. Up ahead, or where you presumed to be above, you could make out a rippling surface, pale lights and distorted moving shapes and shadows. When you emerged, it made even less sense, with blurring wisps that barely retained any such form. The only thing you could recognise, even barely, was yourself, or who you remembered being, looking limp and lifeless as featureless bodies made of blinding light gathered all around you. The speech that bled from them was indistinguishable, and you could not understand what they might have been saying, but given the tone, given the urgency, it must have been critical.
Maybe you were watching yourself be dead, or be comatose, or whatever else it must have been. Maybe thatâs what death had meant at all; that you would be plunged into nothingness, observing your existence from the sidelines like a passenger to your own demise, but no, that did not feel right either. Perhaps you were just unable to let goâunable to accept what had happened as the reality to move on from.
Did you really have to haunt yourself?
Did you really have to look at yourself as youâ
Realising your death shook you out of the thought as quickly as the concept arose, bringing you out of your dreamâor memoryâor observation, bringing you to wake with a sharp, startled gasp. When you then opened your eyes, you were met with a room that looked strikingly real in contrast to the inky void you were otherwise in. It was vibrantly real. You were lying in a low bed over neatly arranged bedding; the air you breathed in was thick and smelled sweet.
Above all that, you felt watched. A bit too intently.
When your eyes regained focus, you could understand why.
Kenjakuâthe maybe not cosplayer; the maybe real dealâwas standing by the doorframe, watching you from a measured distance. His eyes were as dark as coal, devoid of anything that resembled warmth.
âFinally awake,â he observed, his voice smooth, though mild.
He studied your face that you were even present at all, because wakefulness did not always come with awareness, and beyond that, he still hardly understood the point of your existenceâlet alone the limitations of it. For that reason, he chose to be careful and kept a good few steps away from you, his expression fixed into something neutral.
Somewhere, just outside, you could make out a light whimpering sound, but it was a bit muffled.
Was there someone else here?
Whether or not there was, you could only really focus on one thing at a time, so you didnât answer him immediately, even if your mind was swarming with questions. Somehow, now that you were awake with him a second time, the reality, as bizarre as it was, felt easier to accept, even if fear did fill you. After all, you knew that deeper down, even if you could hang out with your type in any canonical world or sense of being, you should not trust most of them. You were left momentarily wondering if you were lucky that you had landed in a world like Jujutsu Kaisen, for at least it was still Earth as you knew it, just with a few differing variables here and there.
This, however, led you down the mental rabbit hole to consider other universes. Did that mean that there were other fictional worlds made real to those unable to let go of their consciousnessâor whatever on earth had happened to you? Did that mean that worlds like Attack on Titan existed, and you had narrowly avoided that fate? Did it depend on what you were focused on at the time of death? Did it matter if it was your current hyperfixation, or what? You thought about other places, like the lethal floral landscape of Hellâs Paradise, whatever on earth Naruto had going onâ
In a way, you were suddenly resentful at yourself again, wishing for something simpler, just because. If reincarnation into fictional universes was a possible fate, then you longed for something quieter like Stardew Valley, where you could avoid a lot of the danger if you lived the quiet route. Though maybe you would have wished for something interesting after a while. Then again, maybe true peace didnât exist at all: there was a lot left unsaid that authors, developers, and the like had never disclosed, so perhaps the unseen layers of presumed historyâof politicsâof all sorts of nuancesâwere still present in the cosier universes, too.
So, in the end, this was all fine. Maybe. Hopefully?
As your mind grappled back and forth with your situation, however, Kenjaku grew just a touch impatient over the lack of a response. He leaned back slightly, the frame creaking under his back, exhaling a quiet breath of annoyance. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your eyes glazing over, wondering if your brain had turned to mush and if he should not have let you sleep for so long.
Perhaps you needed to be grounded, then. Reminded that you have a voice here; that there are thoughts and opinions and complaints to be had.
He started simple.
âYou seemed to have trouble sleeping,â he pointed out, retaining his deceptively kind tone. âWere you having a nightmare?â
Your eyes snapped to his, forcing yourself to focus on the present rather than to wonder on and off about the possibilities of other worlds. If you were here, then sure, so be it. There were plenty of other times to have an existential, reincarnation-oriented crisis, and this was not one of them. Though, when you tried to speak, like before, your unfamiliar voice caught you off guard and any response you had in mind had died in your throat.
Kenjaku noticed your failure to respond, even if you had meant to, but didnât push you just yet. If you were adjusting, then that meant you had also, at the very least, acknowledged his question and therefore were capable of thinking for yourself. He took in how your eyes drifted around the room, noting as much as he could. Your body language was something he found peculiar, because when you were passed out, you seemed almost comfortable with him. Then, when you woke up and registered his company, you grew stiffer, less welcoming of him despite your so-called confession earlier of being an apparent fan.
âY-yes,â you finally managed at long last, though your voice came out as somewhat choppy from not being too used to the way you sounded just yet. âI⌠I think it was a nightmare, anyway. It felt way too real.â
Kenjakuâs mouth curled ever so faintly, his curiosity piqued, but only just.
âWas it a vivid dream?â he asked, gently steering the conversation. âOr perhaps did it feel like something else? A memory?â
You hesitated, but did not answer that time as you tried to think about what you had experienced at all. You didnât know yourself what it could have been, and that frustrated you, though, as well as him, because he had to be so careful around you. Were you anyone else, he might have already moved on to the next curiosity, but if you knew more about the world he lived in than he did, then you were valuable.
Your eyes scrolled around the room again and again, trying to understand where you were and what this was. Briefly, you considered the idea that this was a dream as well, but like the reluctant observation you had the first time, the pacing was much too slow. You could smell and feel and breathe all from one angle without being cast into a suddenly different scene. In addition to that, you didnât experience other dreamy factors, such as lost time.
âWhere is thisâŚ?â You asked yourself, not him, but he answered you anyway.
He pushed himself off the doorway and took a step closer right before doing so, further logging how your body tensed as he approached. His expression remained composed and neutral, but he was far from cautious, unable to help but feel curious about this whole situation. You could tell from the way he was carrying himself that he was holding himself back, both physically, as to perhaps not outright restrain you, but verbally, too, as not to scare you so soon.
âSomewhere safe,â he said so simply, glancing at you once, before determining it felt right enough to move forward. âTell me more about that dream,â he circled back, not quite requesting an explanation as much as trying to find an angle over how exactly he could proceed to exploit you. Depending on how you answered, he had a few ideas up his sleeve, but they had to be exercised correctly. If you were too erratic in your answers, he would have to express containment. If you were too docile, then he would obtain information from you through a third party, since he had no interest in overseeing someone dull. If you were somewhere in-between, thenâ
Maybe, no such pain would have to surface. Hurting others to get what he wanted was always just the crasser, easier route, because oftentimes people were not so ready to give him what he wanted; that much was readily understood. If, however, he could wait for you to soften, then he could build up your trust and see where it would take him. All he wanted from you really was simple, almost absurdly so. He wanted you to run your mouth, once at a time, whenever he deemed it important in order to help him make the right decision at the right time.
âI donât know,â you said slowly, gulping thickly. âI was in a voidâa bit like⌠space? But without any stars around me, and I was watching myself die, or be dead. Maybe I was being saved? Iâm not sure.â
Kenjakuâs expression sharpened with interest right away. He knew of the place you might have been describing; the rift between dreams, death, and life altogether. It existed as a dark, monochromatic threshold between all three states, yet none at all, and was the kind of liminal space that he longed to understand so deeply. He knew enough about it to be aware of it, but a lot of what was within it remained a mystery. He wanted to know more about your time there, and whether or not he could at some point suspend you between two points, but that was a thought exercise for another time, another day, if you were willing to cooperate with him at all.
Then, as he lost himself to his train of thought, he seemed less interested in the fact that you were here with him, and more so in how your existence was possible at all. At the same time, he felt slightly offended since you had arrived, because the idea of your origins being from something you described as ârealityâ did not sit right with him, given that his reality had always been where he was now. The nuances between fiction, reality, information, and souls all felt like loose ends, and he wanted nothing more than to dive into those topics deeper.
He voiced a suspicion to you, tilting his head ever so slightly. âIt sounds like your soul might be trapped between two worlds. The one you came from and the one where you are now.â
You blinked at him, not discounting the idea, but struggling to understand it.
âAre⌠Are souls even real?â you found yourself asking.
He blinked at you as a small curve touched his mouth.
âOh yes, he confirmed, his voice boasting something arrogant and certain. âVery much so.â
âBecauseâŚâ you replied immediately, âI⌠I donât think theyâre real where Iâm from? You basically live, you die, then thereâs nothing after. I just donât get how I ended up here?â
Kenjaku gave you a quiet breath that could have been a laugh but sounded much closer to a weary sigh. He didnât mind educating you on the rules of his universe, but there was far too much to cover, so soon. He lowered himself to the foot of the bed, coming to rest one arm on his knee, settling his chin over the palm of his hand.
âWell, it hardly matters what exists in your world considering youâre no longer in it,â he tried to direct, gently, but not without that condescending lilt that he could never hide. âWhat matters more, or at least to me, is what you brought with you.â
He studied your face more intently, his eyes fixed on you in a way that felt alert and almost clinical.
âWould you like to tell me more about what you know of my world?â he asked, hoping to learn more from you, sitting like he expected you to disclose the gist of it like he was owed it.
What he did not consider, however, was your scepticism surrounding the matter. This world was one you knew of, and therefore could not dismiss the idea that he was preparing to manipulate you from the start, to try and force you, maybe frighten you into telling him what he desired to know because he would convince you that much was the safest route to take. You simply knew better. You werenât even a background character for this world and were an intrusion at best; you had no plot armour, and even if you would become important enough for the plot to consider your existence, then this world was cruel. You remembered reading the manga all the way to the end, and feeling empty by the end of it, even if the conclusion was rather tame. So many interesting characters were lost.
You tried to look at him again, but now you understood what that gaze, exactly, had meant. Now, you wanted to disappearâsink away into the mattressâjust to escape the weight of his stare. It was odd, though, because before, you quite liked the unease of the character, that calculating, very much manipulative, sometimes charismaticâwhen he wanted to beâexpression, but when it was directed at you, it made you feel ill. Nauseous, to an extent. No longer was he a comfort, let alone something you could escape because there was a clear line of what was fictional versus what was real, but a genuine fear because of what you understood was his capability.
Therefore, giving him what he wanted so soon would be a mistake.
At least so soon. You knew well enough that he couldnât just harvest you for a vessel, because right now, occupying Getoâs body was of far greater importance. He needed to orchestrate the Culling Games, and to do that, he needed to have Cursed Spirit Manipulation if he were going to absorb Mahito, which was needed for the arc alone. Even so, you were starting to doubt your usefulness to him, at least somewhat. It had been years since you completed the manga, and the animated seasons were already fleeting. Perhaps if he were to steal your body, or to torture it out of you, then you might fold. Escaping, also, couldnât be an option to consider. Even if you did manage to shove your way past him, he still possessed Kaoriâs old technique, and gravity was not something to joke about. In addition to that, Geto's body was simply strong, and you werenât sure if the one you were occupyingâthe one the universe thrust upon youâcould do anything against that at all.
You ended up offering him a weak smile; the corners of your lips twitching around the edges.
âIâll tell you what you want, but I have⌠conditions,â you started carefully, the nervousness in your voice betraying the demand in your words. âOnly if you wonât kill me either. Or hurt me during my time here. Or⌠let anything else get to me either.â
Kenjaku blinked at your list of requirements and masked his annoyance with that same smile he always made. He leaned back and looked at you differently then, as though he understood you perfectly just then. He should have known it, actually, that you were aware of what he wasâof who he wasâso you might not respond so well to his feigned politeness, to soft words, maybe not even soft touches. Even if he were to act like your favourite character truly, and even slip into bed with youâhe wondered if you would fold at all, or if you would just grow all the more cautious from his efforts.
He studied you in complete silence for a moment longer, his eyes moving over you as he considered his next move. He observed that you were young, yes, but the sharpness of youth could never be dismissed outright. You carried yourself with far too little hierarchy and spoke to him casually, so perhaps in your home world, you were from elsewhere. Then again, the audacity of youth overall these days suggested that much didnât matter, even here. If he had to guess, he could place you somewhere in your twentiesâmaybe older, but he could not be too sure. He had long been alive to understand that people look more or less the same until old age creeps up on them, and even so, a millennia of life had started to make him see even those close to a century on their deathbeds as very, very young.
Still, you had that adult scepticism to you. You were not some naive child who could be told what to doâor else.
âCertainly,â he said at last, though the delivery of the word was a bit too smooth. It wasnât as if he meant to be immediately sly with it, but he already moved on to the idea that the two of you would reach an agreement, because it looked as if you were reaching for something mutually beneficial. He could work with that as long as you kept up your side of the promise, and that way, he didnât have to do anything too harmful or too extreme just yet.
âIâll help you if you help me,â he added.
You regarded him for a moment, pushing yourself up the bed again, clearly not trusting his intent. You werenât sure if he even meant to look so suspicious; maybe it was just the image you had of him in your mind that painted him in such a light, but you knew better than to believe his words.
âAre⌠Are you sure that youâre capable of helping anyone at all?â you asked on a whim, the thought slipping out of your mind out loud. âYouâre not going to just say youâll help me, then screw me over, right?â
Kenjaku blinked at you with that same composed expression. âYouâre asking for protection, yes?â he replied to you. âWhat Iâm asking for is compliance. I believe that we can benefit each other this way.â
âButââ you tried to interject.
He continued anyway. âYes, yes, I understand that you might be cautious about telling me everything at once, so how about this?â he leaned forward, dismissing your concerns right off the bat but also quick to affirm to you that he was capable of listening. âI donât want you to dispense all of the information at once. That doesnât help me in the slightest. In phases, perhaps. When I ask for it, more likely. Iâll need you alive then, so you wonât be harmed, because what use do I have for someone whoâs too much of a mess to speak?â
âAnd youâll⌠trust me, just like that?â you asked, caught off guard by his bluntness, but you supposed that if he didnât have to hide his intentions or who he was from you because he assumedârightfully soâthat you could see through him, then that made enough sense.
A breath of a scoff left his nose. âOf course, unless you give me any reason not to,â he replied, maintaining that decisive tone. âBesides, itâs not like you have much of a choice.â
There it was. You knew that even now, he couldnât be too blunt; he just had to slip in something to make you feel off centre. You knew his character so well. Too well.
âYou must understand the situation youâre in, right?â he asked, before continuing without waiting for your answer. âI can help you stay safe away from the prying eyes of Jujutsu society, where theyâll almost certainly turn their attention towards you and execute you without as much as hearing you out. They hate anomalies, just so that you are awareâto them, the world is about maintaining a specific order, and certainly not entertaining the walking embodiment of spoilers.â
You swallowed, but felt it was right to quickly correct him. âNot exactly true,â you blurted out.
âOh?â he caught.
âWell, after Yuji ate one of Sukunaâs fingers and was awoken as a vessel for him,â you said, curling your fingers into the sheets as you spoke, realising a second too late that you were already sharing what you knew, even if it was considered surface level knowledge, âhe was spared of the death penalty, despite the danger he posed to the world.â
Kenaku smiled again, but his expression felt colder than before.
âBecauseâŚ?â he went on, encouraging you to finish that reason.
You gulped. âWell, technically because he had someone like Gojo to vouch for him, but stillâŚâ
âDo you think that Satoru Gojo would hear you out and protect you?â he asked, his tone turning almost mocking. âHow quaint.â
You swallowed again. âWell, heâs a good guy. Or thatâs how heâs written to be. I think if I did encounter him and asked him to at least hear me out, he might technically put in a good word for meâŚâ
Kenjakuâs mouth pursed at that, as if displeased. âTell me more about him. Is he a major⌠character?â he requested, his expression souring when he had to admit that Satoru Gojo was nothing more than a character to you. He found it novel, certainly, but he didnât appreciate the idea that everything he knew or could be was reduced to a mere story. He hated that, even. To confine his existence to a predetermined fate seemed cruel considering how much he favoured exploring endless possibilities.
You shrugged. âNot exactly. The main character is still Yuji. Gojo wasâisââ you corrected yourself right away, remembering that if you were to dispense spoilers at all, you still had to have the upper hand in all instances. âHeâs his teacher,â you continued, âbut heâs popular because I guess, well, heâs hot, and heâs funny, and just seems like a good person.â
A certain curiosity gripped him. âAnd me?â he asked, almost beaming with arrogance.
Only for you to strike him down.
You glanced at the ceiling, then back at him. âI think youâre actually one of the most hated characters, actually, right after Mahito. I guess people arenât too forgiving over the fact you took over and exploited Getoâs body,â you explained, leaving out the part that truly sold the hatred for most; during the Shibuya incident, when he had used Getoâs voice specifically to trick Gojo. That might have been too much of a spoiler to let on, considering it was pretty major.
Kenjaku nodded, though his eyes narrowed slightly. âI see. Interesting that the⌠story,â he said again, smacking his lips together as if to get rid of the off-putting taste that words like âstoryâ and âcharacterâ kept leaving in his mouth, âfollowed along what Mahito was up to. What becomes of him anyway?â
You kept quiet at that, not wanting to reveal too much too soon.
âI want more security on the promise you made before I reveal too much,â you said.
He tilted his head. âI didnât make any promises. I only said that I was capable of offering you safety,â but then after a measured pause, he added, âif youâre cautious of me, which youâre right to be,â he added with a laugh, âthen perhaps we can shape this arrangement into something that feels less one-sided.â
You gulped before taking the bait. âHow?â
He looked at you as though he recalculated his stance. It was clear that you knew things which were useful enough to matter, and you could understand him well enough to know that it would be unwise to cooperate with him so easily. He respected that, almost. If you were being difficult out of self-preservation, then there was something admirable about that.
âWhat if we give something of equal value to each other, when I need information from you?â he suggested. âIf I give you something in return.â
You searched his face for answers. âSuch as?â
âI could take you on as an apprentice of sorts,â he shrugged, brainstorming on the spot. âI could teach you to fightâto defend yourselfâmaybe, if youâre capable of harnessing cursed energy, I can teach you to manipulate the world around you, and if not, then Iâll find a way to make it possible.â
But then he went still as a thought surfaced, because there had to be more to you fainting and retreating to a dream. After all, that certainly was the rift he was thinking of before, wasnât it? If the line between your waking self and the state of a fleeting consciousness was thin enough, then the promise might not even hold at all. He might be investing in nothing.
Then again, he speculated, maybe your soul was just confused between point A and point B. Maybe, if he grounded enough of a presence into you here, by building a life based on proximity and experience, if you remained here long enough, then your soul might settle here instead. It didnât have to be confused about where to go or not.
âWhat do you say?â he asked after many seconds had passed.
You drew in a heavy breath as you sat with the question, genuinely considering his offer.
A part of you welcomed it, finding the prospect exciting. You had always wanted to experience a more exciting life, and especially one with powers. Whenever you found yourself watching fantasy, you always thought you would not find it a chore to learn about magic or powers or whatever else, but just like Kenjaku, a certain thought ate away at you.
If the dreams you had were of the old youâif they had the answers over why it had to endâthen would you forget all of that eventually?
Would you truly die then to make room for your new life here?
What would happen to those spoilers you carried then?
For now, however, it seemed just easier to escape, just for that small measure of security. You needed that more than anything else, so you set that concern aside for now.
âYes,â you said at last, looking him dead in the eyes to prove just how serious you wereâ
on ao3 ⢠first chapter ⢠< previous chapter ⢠next chapter >
plot: ever since 2015, japan has been plagued by mysterious deaths all over the country with no particular lead, until one day, you saw something you shouldnât have.
summary: kenjaku is determined to go out with a bang and puts all of his expectations on you, all the while you have trouble fulfilling them âa/n: smut in this chapter and then some story-typical disturbing discussions, problematic ideation from y/n towards the end
Chapter 22. Memories
As the car kept rolling on, and as Kenjaku kept talking about everything coming to an end, you could not help but feel uneasy about the direction of his ambitions. You simply did not fancy a life behind bars as much as he did, because unlike him, you hadnât been as active as he had, whereas he, by comparison, had been roaming around for the better part of the decade. You, on the other hand, had only just begun, and since meeting him, you barely could keep up with your time at all. It was all just a surreal, fast-lived mess that at times felt like it lasted more than it had, but the reality was that all that had passed was still less than a year.
Having that all settle down to a quiet life in prison was just not a change you could so easily adapt to.
That was all.
âYeah, but youâre already stuck in my head,â you finally managed, your voice still weak and sore from the explosion, likely from residual dust and smoke clinging to your lungs. âWhat do you mean I have to burden myself with more memories of you?â you added teasingly, but also defensively on a deeper layer. As you spoke, you glanced once again at where exactly you wereâstashed away in yet another stolen vehicle, yesâbut when did this all happen? How did this all happen? Was this still the same day? Your mind was a mess. You were a mess. Looking at him, too, he was also a mess. Youâexhausted physically from injury, and himâweighed down by his own mind: both broken beyond repair.
Kenjaku met you with an unsteady laugh in response. âYeah. Is that so bad?â he responded, his tone taking a teasing lilt, though the intensity in his gaze remained; his eyes were blown out and manic to a degree, glinting with what must have been madness. âObviously, I want to have at least some fun memories to look back on before they lock me up, likely in solitary confinement,â he added, trying to somewhat guilt you into feeling sorry for him and his eventual fate. âThat, andâŚâ he trailed off, his pitch dropping lower, almost to a suggestive, hungrier register, because with everything that had happened, with everything that he was feeling, he could not help himself, â...so much more.â
You gulped thickly as you caught onto the implication of his words; surprised, but in a different sort of way, that you could still reciprocate anything from him at all. You still fought with yourself on the matter, after all, because of what he did, and how he pushed you when you were both tucked away in the suburbs. It felt easier now for you to make the call, even if it were acceptance; then it would be under your control.
Not giving you too much time to think about it, however, he leaned in closer from his side while you were still considering what he must have meant. He tugged you from your arm to meet closer with him, his lips locking in on your shoulder, finding that he greatly missed physical contact.
âSo much more?â you repeated at long last, bringing your voice up a pitch to sound almost innocent, even if you knew fully well what he was up to. âWhatever could that mean?â
Kenjaku snorted under his breath, motioning over for you to manoeuvreâsomehowâover to his side, tugging you closer as soon as you could successfully cross over, and guiding you to settle over his lap. Initially, he wanted you to ride himâfor your focus to be on him, because he definitely needed some attention after everything that had happened earlier on in the day, but he paused that very same thought as soon as he had his arms around you. Perhaps that would be too much of an overexertion, because while the reports marked you as otherwise in good health, he did not miss that detail about smoke inhalation. Your lungs were still going through it, and he did not want to push you with more than you could handle for the time being, leading him to discard that idea instantly.
âWhat I mean isâŚâ he dragged out in a low and thoughtful hum, intending to reply to you, but losing track of what he was saying almost immediately. His eyes remained fixed on you, momentarily forgetting, even, what he was doing at all, because all he could otherwise think of was just how soft you were beneath his calloused touch. How warm your weight felt when pressing directly above him. Somehow, the realisation of your presence, rather than comfort him, sent a spike of panic through him instead, as he realised quickly what an end could truly mean: no more holding you like this, no more proximity, no more feeling so content. The idea filled him with dread, and he found his hands tightening around your flesh to a painful degree, though he didnât realise he was even doing it.
You tilted your head as he went quiet.
âWow, you leaving me hanging?â you asked, watching him brood over something you couldnât quite parse, but then a cough broke out of you a second later, forcing you to turn your head to the side, sputtering out a raspy cough.
Kenjaku returned his focus to you as soon as he heard you, loosening his hold on you as soon as he realised that he must have been hurting you by accident. In an attempt to mask his slip-up, he let out a light scoffing breath while maintaining that usual arrogant tone. âI mean that I want to experience you, just like this, as many times as I possibly can, obviously,â he finally replied, his mind sparking with another idea. If riding him wasnât a viable option, then the thought of you sprawled out in the backseat was just as delicious. Positioning didnât matter: what he wanted was closeness more than anything else.
âBesides,â he added, pulling on the door latch, moving out from beneath you to slip outside, âyou kind of owe me after driving me insane anyway,â he even dared tease, glancing you down from the moment he stepped outside. âCanât you take mercy on me?â
You met his gaze with unsteady eyes, wobbling out at the open side, only to have him ready to catch you and keep you steady. As he helped you up and outside, he helped you move into the back, but in doing so, hissing at every near miss of you bumping your head from your lack of balance. It wasnât that you were always so clumsy, but rather that the weight of the day had finally taken its toll.
âCanât even let me recover, huh?â you poked at him, but meant nothing by it. You didnât mind it all too much. Mentally, you could force down what had happened to you; you had determined that physically, you could adapt as long as you didnât have to do too much all at once.
A breath of a laugh left him, followed by a wide, boastful smile.
âWhy of course not,â he replied, guiding you back even further. âDonât act like you donât want this as badly as I do,â he added, though for some reason, he felt a sting as he said it, briefly reminded of how he pushed you past your limit back then. Considering how little time he had left with you, the last thing he wanted to do at such a critical moment was to push you away and have you want nothing to do with him.
Pushing past the feeling, however, he moved forward by climbing on top of you, brushing past the awkward mention of the topic by coming to hover over your body. His head dipped slightly, his lips close to your ear, the sensation hot and wet as he spoke, yet undeniably full of starving need, âIâm just pointing it out, really, that I want you right now,â he openly admitted. âThatâs not a crime, is it?â he then asked. âEspecially afterââ
âWait,â you stopped him abruptly in his descent, causing him to momentarily freeze. âIs this not too open?â you asked, glancing around the exposed location, suddenly realising that indeed, you were outside on a road somewhere, and while it was empty here specifically, you could still hear cars from not too far away drift on past.
Kenjaku let out a breath of relief that you werenât stopping him, but all he could manage was a shrug. âWeâre far away enough,â he assured you. âBesides, just keep still and keep quiet; nobody has to suspect a thing if you just let me do all the work, unless,â he caught himself, lifting his head to look you directly in the eyes, âthatâs too much effort for you?â
âEffort?â you echoed. âOh, you silly, naive man. I can keep quiet. Hell, I can ignore you entirely.â
âOh, you can certainly try,â he hummed, not sounding offended in the slightest. In fact, he took that remark as a challenge more than anything else.
And before you could even think to back out, he advanced over your body, pulling himself back far enough that he could pry apart your legs with both hands, shuffling around the cramped interior all to get closer to you, the location be damned. He wanted you now, and he could both endure and risk all sorts of variables to accomplish that notion. It felt like all was right when he had you at his side; after all, that momentary lapse earlier on in the day had proven that. He wanted to be as physically close as he could to help it, which was what fueled his hunger at all.
For your part, you did keep quiet, but only as you focused on helping him out. You lifted your hips when he tried to take off your underwear, and you helped him undress when it came to following through on his end. You helped guide him in, even taking hold of his cock and helping him position himself at your entrance as soon as he was able to, gasping lightly as he pushed on inside, both from the sudden heat but also from the soreness you could not yet shake off.
âA tight fit,â he mused, but partially complained; he wanted you to be as aroused as he was, but he supposed that given the circumstances, you werenât on the same wavelength as he was. He could easily bottom out, however, as he sank further into you, so that much should have been more than enough.
You could barely move as he slid on in slowly, so you interpreted it entirely differently. You could barely moveâwith one knee bent and pressed against the back of a car seat while the other hooked over his shoulder. Your arms barely had any space at all.
âWhat, me or the car?â you asked.
Kenjaku snorted at your joke, sounding thoroughly amused, but rather than wasting more time with the usual back and forth, he pushed his hips forward, burying himself as far into you as he could go, his body beginning to make small, thrusting movements as he got started. The car creaked at every sway, jolting on occasion from each hit.
âAnd youâre sure nobody will hear us?â you asked, listening to the vehicle groan.
Kenjaku didnât seem too bothered, catching your concerned words with his mouth as he leaned down, locking onto your lips with a damp, breathless kiss. âWho cares, really?â he groaned into you. âItâs all part of the fun, isnât it? Just keep quiet as I told you.â
âThen go a bit slower,â you suggested.
He scoffed at you. âSlower? Youâll have to persuade me on that one.â
âWellâŚâ you dragged your voice in thought, immediately jumping on playing the pity card. âIâm still hurt, yâknow? Still so sore. Youâre being kind of inconsiderate by being so rough, donât you think?â
At that, Kenjaku slowed considerably, his hands easing off the firm grip he otherwise had around you, though the look written on his face did not fade in its intensity. He forced himself to go at a more forgiving pace, hesitant to truly hurt you, even if your request and reasoning did wound his ego ever so slightly. It mostly just offended him that you needed to remind him with such a detail, as if he hadnât spent the better part of the day fretting over you being dead or alive, horrendously injured, or left unscathed. Of course he knew to consider that.
âActing as Iâve forgotten,â he grunted into you, masking his faltered pride with a light remark. The very implication that he didnât know how to handle you stung at him in a way that he didnât like, but rather than make it into an issue, he slowed indeed, gentling his touch.
You rolled your eyes at his bruised resolve, brushing your hands across the expanse of his slick back, finding that the generated heat from the two of you, within such cramped quarters, was otherwise grating at you. The angle was very awkward, and the friction was starting to feel more punishing than pleasurable. You tried to shift your position whenever you could, but no matter what you did, the same pressing thought persisted.
Maybe then, you werenât as great at pushing your feelings back as you had thought.
You ended up voicing a concern, even if it did not suit what you were both in the middle of doing.
âHeyâŚâ you tried to say.
Kenjaku hummed idly, barely catching on to your thoughtful noise.
âAre we, uh, not supposed to be driving as far as we possibly can away from everything, if weâre that low on time, as opposed to you know, fucking?â you asked, your question broken down into gasped-out segments of three, the pleasure rising in sync with your concern.
At that, Kenjaku sighed in full exasperation at the question you presented him when he wanted nothing more than for his mind to go blank. He looked profoundly annoyed at you, unable to even mask it, for ruining the moment briefly, before returning his nose to the crook of your neck, his words all wet and muffled as he complained into your skinâ
âYes,â he gritted, âitâs fine,â he added, his voice rich with protest, âif timeâs running out, thatâs all the more reason to make the most of it with you.â
It wasnât like the pressure was lost on him from the second he entered you; it was still a thought that ate away at him the same way it did you, but he also didnât want to think about it during a moment like this one. Of course, he was thoroughly aware that it was all a race against time before you were both discovered and had to suffer the consequences of what was done, but that much didnât matter right now.
And as if to emphasise how much he wanted to move on from this topicâat least for nowâhe found himself sawing into you with much more force, with much less abandonâthe promise for your comfort momentarily forgotten as he gave in to being selfish for the time being.
You gasped loudly as he did so, and he took it completely differently.
âRemember what I said about being quiet?â he reminded you, hearing your voice rise and falter into sets of dissolving moans, though his point was more about keeping your mouth shut altogether, which included asking him things at all. âI donât want my final moments with you to be about what could happen next or not,â he scolded you slightly, driving his point home by pounding into you harder, âI want you to focus on me. Just me. Only me. So, how about you do that and pay attention to me for once?â
You surrendered to his plea, wrapping your arms tighter around him as the sensation of being filled deepened, and especially so as the pressure built. âFor once?â you barely breathed out.
Kenjaku scoffed against your neck as he bucked wildly, feeling his peak right around the corner.
âYeah, for once,â he murmured out but barely at any volume that time. His voice, let alone his words, had barely any cohesion at this point. His movements were far from restrained at all. He rutted into you heavier than before, swinging his hips frantically, pushing you both past the limit, gruntingâgroaningâwhining into your flesh as he chased to accomplish mutual completion.
Which from you invited a giggle. Just a teasing, suspicious, little laugh.
âWhat is it now?â he asked, sounding weary despite the effort he was putting in. He was so close. So fucking close. You would not dare interrupt him now, would you? But, oh. He knew you well enough. So help him, god, you would. You definitely would.
âOhânothingââ you replied between pumps, acting almost innocent if not for your devious tone. âItâs justâyouâre being quiteân-noisy yourselfâarenât you?â
A strangled laugh slipped from him, his eyes all dark and half-lidded with a lustful intensity, supposing that he could let you have that, at least, because if you were teasing him then you were paying attention to him.
Though, as his peak surged, he could no longer keep himself together. The smile he had fixed you with just seconds ago had already faltered to make way for his final efforts. He slammed into you once, twice, before his fingers curled around the soft give of your flesh, digging scratches into your skin as he shuddered a longing orgasm. He sighed loudly as he found his end, bottoming out within you as he released, spilling into your heat, keeping himself plugged up deep within you.
In turn, you caught up at the same time, clenching your legs around him as you pulled him in closer, gasping and whimpering out borderline delirious whines from being fucked silly. Dizziness took you over swiftly after, leaving you panting, with your vision faltering. The sensation was torturous almost as it built in your lower core, coiling almost painfully tight, before blooming into radiating warmth that spread out throughout your entire body.
At your own completion, a soft, high-pitched moan that definitely was not a sound you had ever made before left you right as you climaxed, which, to your embarrassment, Kenjaku could of course not ignore.
âWait,â he asked, not skipping a beat with how quickly he moved to tease you. âWhat was that?â
Your eyes narrowed defensively. âDonât you âwhat was thatâ me,â you bit back, âyou make even weirder sounds than I do, and you donât see me bringing them up, but since youâre rudeâŚâ you trailed off, immediately making an effort to mock him, grunting out overly exaggerated replications of the noises he had been producing just minutes ago.
âOh, is that what weâre doing now?â he quipped, âbecauseâŚâ
Before you could stop him in turn, he began to mimic your soft, breathy whimpers, his breath ghosting along your neck as he did so, keen to have you feel them.
However, both of you were left suddenly frozen and quiet as a car zoomed on over the adjacent freeway from where you were parked, catching you both off guard.
âOrâŚâ he started after a while, his manner of speaking hoarse from all of the sounds he had been bullying you with, âmaybe we are too exposed,â he added, agreeing with your earlier observation, though sounding utterly spent by now, his voice taking on a sleepy edge.
Just for a moment, he closed his eyes as he sank over you, wanting to enjoy even whatever madness this wasâwith youâif he could help it.
~~~
Long after everything else had happened, and when you were back and awake on the road, the car rolled along the empty stretch at a high but cautious speed. The sky was entirely pitch black by now, and it was overcast, hiding any stars away. Rain drizzled over the road and over the windows, falling into soft patters over the glass. You appreciated the sound and the sensation now, finally able to relax. It felt nice against your aching body to be somewhere so crisp.
An earlier thought returned to you both as you drifted along to wherever it was you were both going, reminding you of your inevitable outcome. A life behind bars, huh? You turned the thought over and over in your head again, still disliking the concept. You were still so young, but your wish to live life the way you wanted to had only ever made things worse. This led you to even darker places, because now you were thinking that you did deserve it. You were never truly betterâmorallyâthan the man you had run away from, just weaker. Then, in contrast to someone like Kenjakuâwere you any better than he was, considering the places your thoughts went, and the things you had suggested and watched him do without the faintest bit of remorse? Aside from disgust, there was nothing close to regret. Maybe you were just as rotten as he was.
âYou good there?â Kenjaku asked, noticing, or perhaps feeling the brooding tension evident in the air. It wasnât so hard to miss with how your posture stiffened. He didnât turn to catch the sight, but his eyes, on occasion, drifted, needing to pay attention to the road to avoid an accident. The last thing he wanted to do was to kill you both in the process accidentally.
âJustâŚâ you managed after a good few seconds, âIâm⌠I think Iâm just struggling still with the idea that everything has to come to an end at some point. I really, really donât want to go to jail,â you admitted.
âNo shit?â he replied. âIâm not too keen on it either, but unfortunately for us both, the world is probably better off without people like us in it.â
You snapped your head to look at him. âHow can you say that?â
Kenjaku gave a small shrug. âWhat? Itâs true, isnât it? Thereâs something deeply wrong with both you and me,â he tried to explain, knowing that sometimes when he rambled, he didnât make too much sense. âI clocked it pretty early that a standard life wasnât for me, even if I did try. I even went down the route of getting a normal, societally acceptable job, a good and supportive partner, a home in a sociable neighbourhood, and yet, all it did was bring me misery.â
You kept quiet as he continued.
âTurns out, I hated the whole act of pretending at all,â he went on, âI hated that life was an unending grind of enduring people I could hardly stand, but I suppose had I been any wiser, I should have done everyoneâincluding meâa favour, and check myself into an institution long ago, but I just had to be way too curious about what was out there.â
âFind anything good?â you asked, trying to keep up with his ranting, which was now far off track.
He let out a short laugh. âGood? No. I found a headache,â he replied instead, casting a pointed look to his side, the remark clearly meant for you. âOne after the other, actually. Shit. I have never been so stressed in my life,â he half joked, though the dry edge to his voice suggested that he wasnât being too serious.
âIt just seems⌠soâŚâ you started to reply but then stopped, distracted by your own addled thoughts. âI donât know. Was all of this worth it if it means we never see each other again?â
Kenjaku sighed at your words. âDonât remind me,â he said quietly. âOf course I donât fucking like the fact that all Iâll have left of this is a memory, but itâs better than nothing. Thatâs the point Iâm trying to make with all of this.â
You pouted at his words. âI donât really agree,â you replied. âI donât want just memories, even if we do go out with something outrageous, which I definitely have the best ever idea for, by the way.â
He glanced at you then, allowing you a look, already starting to feel uneasy. He knew that tone, that glint in your eyes all too well. You were going to say something completely out there.
âYeah? Letâs hear it then,â he encouraged you.
You tilted your head back, glancing up at the roof of the car before turning back to him. âYou know medieval torture methods,â you began, causing him to lightly choke on his own breath from just how strong a start that was, âwhat if we recreated something from that time? Iâm thinking like a brazen bull but to a modern degree. Think about it. Weâd attract enough attention to go international, Iâd bet,â you beamed. âI want something at least to be attributed to us.â
âA brazen bull?â he almost barked out. âBold, yes. " Attention-grabbing, even more so, but thereâs just one thingâŚâ he trailed off to emphasise. âHow on earth are you expecting us to pull something like that off?â
You pursed your lips. âI have an idea, okay. Maybe we could pack coal under a bathtub with another bathtub on top, sealing the sides with something, but have a pipe leading out of one gap. Maybe it would be like a trumpet?â you explained, your voice sounding far too excited for its own good. âSo not quite a brazen bull, and more of a brazen bath.â
Kenjaku could only sigh as he listened, but he supposed that your line of thought only confirmed his earlier ramblings. He had truly found his match made in hell.
âThatâs⌠certainly disturbing,â he said, glancing ahead of the road, his eye catching on a sign that was barely visible in the dark. âCoincidentally, a bed and breakfast is coming up. Want to try our luck and see what we find there?â
You hummed in agreement.
âBut first,â he caught you, âwhat exactly did you disagree with earlier? If being locked up with your memories isnât good enough, then what would be?â he asked with genuine curiosity.
Your throat tightened. You couldnât say the actual thing on your mind then, because what you wanted was something far more extreme than merely being stashed away. You wanted a definite end that died with both of you, something final enough that it could take you both out at once, in the same place and the same time. That much would mean taking his memory of you with it though, and you didnât want to take that from him. If he wanted to sit and sulk in confinement, thinking of you the whole time, then so be it. It was the part where, with memories, came forgetfulness that you didnât like.
âOh, um, it wasnât important,â you lied. âI forgot, actually. Maybe I just wanted something closer, I guess,â you tried to say. âIn that case, Iâm going to have to figure out how to telepathically send you my thoughts when weâre both rotting in prison.â
âGreat, so youâre telling me the headache will never end then?â he laughed as he made a turn on the road, though the way he said it sounded almost affectionate.
You didnât reply as a yawn left your lips, but now Kenjaku seemed to be fired up.
âA brazen bath, then,â he circled back, his mind already going to all sorts of places and possibilitiesâ
in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 8) poll winner: you took the left turn
trigger warnings: lightly described violence, disturbing themes, tried to keep him in character here but itâs a bit difficult when the yandere-isms start to surface đŤ
< previous part ⢠from the beginning
From the very moment you could bring yourself to stand, you shot up to your feet within a beat, even if you did feel a bit unsteady. You looked around, both to your left and right, having no real indication of where to go, lunging blindly towards the left on a whim and hoped for the best.
The van he had otherwise left you in was parked a bit out of the way, but it had to still be close enough to where he needed to be, so by sheer chance, you ended up stumbling into the park anyway. Sounds from all over every corner and turn carried over to where you were, but you had yet to see a single soul as you drifted further into it. The thought of him and Shoko, likely being somewhere nearby, sat badly with you, as you remembered his plan to meet her at all.
You couldnât help but wonder how that must have played out.
Shoko, after all, was cautious by nature and certainly not the sort of person that one could easily fool. She would never accept a substitute standing in your place, telling her that you wanted to withdraw from everything and everyone, nor would she have accepted itâif Choso did allow you to meet with her insteadâif your words sounded too rehearsed. You hoped that he was put in his place when he realised he couldnât fool her so easily, because you wanted him above all to take a step back from all of this and leave you alone.
Then, your stomach dropped altogether as you rounded a corner, the sight of them both coming into view. By sheer chance, you happened upon two familiar figures in the distance that you could clearly recognise, but they were locked in a fight against each other. It was so messy that your mind could almost not comprehend what it was looking at, before you forced yourself to look again. There was Choso, yes, you could unfortunately recognise his silhouette well enough by now, but also Shoko, too, though her hair was everywhere, lightly concealing her face. Her head was caught in his grip, leaving you to finally understand that something urgent was happening.
God. Had you gone the other wayâif you had taken any other turn before getting hereâyou would have left Shoko completely at his mercyâor lack thereof. Panic surged within you at the very thought, and without thinking it through, a sudden urge to intervene guided you closer towards them both. You ran at them from behind, throwing yourself into trying to wrench him off of her, and when that immediately failed, you next tried to wedge yourself in between them both to pry them apart.
Shokoâs eyes widened from the moment she saw you, looking all desperate and breathless from the effort of wrestling out of his grip. Choso, on the other hand, did not register you right away. He shoved you down as if you were a mere obstacle with a brutal throw, only understanding a moment later what he had done at all. He, too, had to take a second to process what he was seeing. For one, you were no longer in the van where he had left you, and somehow, by sheer coincidence, you managed to find him in a situation he did not want to be in to begin with.
The second he understood that he might have hurt you, his hands fell away from Shoko, who, despite herself, lurched to distance you from him altogether, dropping to her knees beside you and pulling you back with her.
Choso froze at the sight, his hands curling into fists as he tried to calm himself down.
âYouâre okay?â Shoko asked you at once. âYouâre not hurt anywhere?â
You were still trying to catch your breath as you replied, your stomach in pain from where his hand had connected, but also from the burst of adrenaline. âIâm fine,â you panted out. âArâAre you?â
Shoko nodded, and relief settled in you, but then you flinched at the looming figure still standing right beside you both, understanding all too well that this was not over just yet.
âYou have to understand,â he started, trying to keep his voice as level as he could possibly manage, âI didnât want to hurt anyone to begin with, but things have gotten very, very complicated.â
Shoko let out a strained laugh over the audacity of his reasoning. âComplicated?â she repeated. âYou attacked me.â
âBecause you were going to report me,â Choso reasoned, quick to justify himself. âI know what Iâm doing is wrong, Iâm not denying that, but I canât help butââ he broke off, his hands now trembling at his sides. âI canât help what I want, and it makes me actââ
âWhat you want?â you suddenly broke out, turning on him to cast a look that was almost pleading. âWhat about what I want?â you asked him, because with everything that had happened so far, you had been barely given a chance to fend for yourself at all, let alone get a word out that you werenât interested in him in the same way he was with you. âI donât want any of this, so why are you putting me through literal hell?â
Choso took a small step forward, and Shoko let out a sharp, defensive sound of protest as he did. She hated how helpless she felt, and you hated it too, because nothing seemed to be getting through to him.
âI canât explain it well at all,â he continued, trying to make himself both look and sound less imposing, less threatening, âbut itâs just⌠I really do want whatâs best for you,â he insisted, his eyes fixed on yours. âIâm very bad at showing it, I wonât deny that, but if you just let me take care of you, then I can take you away from all of this⌠the stress, the obstacles, theââ he suddenly stopped, his expression falling from pleading to heartbroken when he saw the frightened look on your face. âPlease donât look at me like that. Iâm serious. I donât want to hurt you.â
You hesitated, but before you could reject him once more, Shoko misinterpreted your reaction as pity.
âDonât you dare feel bad for him,â she hissed, yanking your arm back. âHeâs unwell. Canât you see that?â
âThatâs not what Iââ you gasped out.
Choso cut in at once, sending the opening while he still had it. âHow about this, then? If you come with me without making even more of a scene, then your friend doesnât have to die.â
That much worked to cease the bickering between you both, but in the worst possible way.
Shoko froze. âWhat?â
âW-wait, wait, what do you meââ you started as well, your words landing messily as panic gripped you.
âIâm sorry,â Choso stopped you both, shaking his head and looking genuinely pained by the whole thing. âI really am so sorry, but I canât just let you go freely. You would alert the police, and Iâll be in even more trouble,â he sighed, considering his options. âBut⌠I can let you go somewhere else. Where I decide.â
Shoko paused, not feeling too great about what Choso must have meant about somewhere else. She looked around her, shooting you a charged, desperate look. âWait. Thereâs only one of him. Two of us. If we split up, then we canââ
Choso, however, did not seem at all interested in a chase. He wanted to do right by you, but in his attempt to do so, he had landed himself in a situation that was difficult to get out of. He needed to retake control and figure out how to put a lid on this whole mess without attracting even more unwanted attention. He ended up moving decisively to grab you, provoking Shoko to suddenly lunge forward in an attempt to keep you away from him, pulling you back, but he was still much stronger. He took you back as soon as he had a good hold on you, hauling you over his shoulder with one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady.
Then, as Shoko started to pull away, a soft whine of fear leaving her lips, he drove down to prevent her escape before she could get too far. He drove her down beneath his boot, crushing the air out of her lungs, then crouched down to reassume the chokehold, dragging you both back in the direction he arrived from. He didnât care if there were witnesses or how horrible this must have looked because all he cared about right there and then was getting you both away and to a location where he could control the outcome.
âDonât scream,â he muttered under his breath to you. âDonât scream if you want her to live. Youâll stay quiet, okay?â
You tried to stifle your sobs as he spoke, but the tears kept on rolling anyway, making the swaying ground blur as he walked. Your breathing turned uneven as you tried to keep awake, but the panic rose too fast, and then you couldnât help but pass out. Everything felt awful, stressed and scary; of course, you couldnât handle it. Of course, you passed out.
~~~
When you next came around, you woke up to find yourself back in the van, but this time it was moving. It was the soft rattling sound that awoke you, but otherwise it was dark inside. The door was no longer as open as it had been before, and somewhere in the cramped space, you could hear a strained noise nearby.
As you blinked, you tilted your head up, coming to meet with Shoko from across you, lying on her side, tied up and gagged. Her dark eyes were fixed on yours, and she tried to shuffle forward, but it was almost impossible to do so given the bumpy ride.
All you could do was just lie in the pained silence otherwise, until, after what felt like far too long, the van gradually slowed down. Judging by the transition from a solid road onto a softer surface, and from the smell of salt drifting in through the narrow gap of the doors, you guessed you were by the sea. The ocean was nearby, and you could hear heavy waves crashing.
Once the van had stopped and Choso had gotten out, a cold sense of unease gripped you once more. His footsteps were muted, and it sounded as though sand was being kicked beneath his feet, which made sense given the location, but you couldnât for the life of you figure out why he had brought you both here.
When he opened the doors, you could barely see him as it was now night. Choso could see you, though. He looked momentarily relieved to see you awake, but then, as his attention moved to Shoko, any softness in his eyes had hardened at once.
âYou were unconscious, so I suppose you didnât hear me before,â he started, his voice grim, âbut the plan is to leave her somewhere around here.â
Choso looked around, leaning away from the van, keeping his hands curled around the doors. âAlive, of course,â he added softly, âbut that wonât last long. Not if the tide is high tonight.â
His eyes moved sideways again, towards the beach. The sand there was already damp in places, still visible under the moonlight, but only time stood between that spot and the water. If he walked Shoko out pretty far into the coast, then the ocean could take her.
âIf she manages to get loose, though, then Iâll respect it,â he continued.
You looked like you wanted to speak, and Choso paused, stepping into the van to let you try.
âThereâs nobody out here,â he said, looking around again as he peeled away the tape from your skin. âI drove around twice to be sure. You can scream, but nobody will hear you.â
He then exhaled through his nose, sounding almost tired. âI⌠I really donât like doing things like this, you know? I donât like hurting people. I donât like making them suffer because of what Iâve done,â he continued, his jaw tightening with each word. âI just⌠I just canât help myself. I donât know. Iâve never felt like this around anyone, so no, I canât explain it, but⌠I just feel better when youâre around me. Thatâs all.â
You tried to repeat your earlier plea. âWhat about what I want?â you asked.
Choso looked at you, but he didnât answer you, and instead, he stepped back, dragging Shoko out by the rope, his jaw set tight so he didnât have to say anything else. He left you behind in the van, still tied up, then lowered her onto the sand, taking a brief look toward the horizon yet again.
âThe temperatures get pretty low,â he spoke in a low murmur, more to himself than her, as if to justify the horror of what he was about to commit. âItâll probably be the cold that gets to you first, but donât worry, I read that itâs like⌠going to sleep. First, your body goes numb, and then the rest catches up.â
Shoko could only stare at him, her eyes wide.
As Choso looked at her, though, he started to get second thoughts about this whole thing. He considered untying her, but he thought better of it. The most he allowed himself to do was to also remove the tape from her lips, figuring that she at least deserved a few last words.
Shoko, however, was already straining against the bindings, close to wriggling free, but she knew better than to run away so soon. She had to do so when he thought she was gone, so she could save you both.
Next part >>>
What does she do?
Try to talk him out of it while he was still giving her a chance to speak.
Quietly break free from the bindings and catch him off guard later on.
I like to think that AO3 and fanfiction are a bastion against dead internet theory. Sure, there's the AI and the bots, but at its heart fandom is still a community of passionate people going "LOOK AT WHAT I MADE" and having people go "THAT'S SO COOL" right back.
So yeah. You wanna beat the bots? Make things. Comment. The internet's not dead as long as you're still here making noise.
Appreciate the updates on delays on the poll piece but I think youâre fine! Donât worry too much about the timing for a piece that you have to think about on the spot, even a 2 week delay would be fine đ
thank you! i usually have something in mind as iâm thinking of either option, but the write up can take a little bit depending on irl factors. definitely thought i had thursday to post it but irl got in the way buuuut itâs okay. i do like informing people following the story exactly whatâs happening with it though!
in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 7) poll winner: heâs left us unbound in the van (split pov)
trigger warnings: lightly described violence, disturbing themes, yandere choso coming in strong here
< previous part ⢠from the beginning
â...Alright,â Choso breathed out at last, his words, however, landing a bit uncertainly. He wanted so badly to believe you, and even if he couldnât fully, just seeing your eyes soften with relief when he spoke was enough for now. Inflicting fear or pain upon you, after all, was something he wanted to avoid, even given the situation he forced you into.
You sighed out, too, immediately after, though you were still shaky. You had to curl your fingers into your palms to hide just how much. You had to force your gaze to lowerâyour blinking to cease momentarilyâjust to conceal your tears. Though as he left you alone in the van, and as the door slammed shut, everything you were holding back before started to spill. Everything burned as you struggled to rein in your composure to even think.
âShit, shit, shit,â you muttered to yourself; your words a messy, hurried mantra as you tried everything all at once. You pulled at the door handles; you tried to rotate yourself right around to force your heels against the windows, kicking them repeatedly, and though no alarm went off, nothing budged either.
Then, as you were in the midst of thrashing, a panel in the back gave out, its clanging against the van floor so loud it forced you to pause. You chanced retreated back there anyway, because what if? Slipping through the panel was easy work; it was just big enough to fit you. You pulled yourself through it, landing right on your hands and knees, coughing from the impact. Goodness. It was dusty back there.
When your vision adjusted to the darker stretch of the vehicle, you made the observation that the double-sided door was not locked properly, or at the very least, that it was damaged. A faint gap allowed a small amount of light to pass through. Towards the side of the vehicle, you spotted the glint of a gardening tool that appeared to be a rake tossed onto the flooring. You found yourself scrambling towards it with a surge of desperation, moving the teeth of the tool at an angle, then leaning against the handle with all of your might until you heard something creak.
You found yourself praying to yourself that you would get out of this somehow. For the most part, it seemed to be working, too. You felt great as it happened. What was this feeling? Adrenaline, maybe? You simply refused to accept the direction you were trapped in. You were not something to be stolen and then kept away from the world. You wanted to live and be free, and above all, be the one in control of it!
The metal began to crack open, but then just as it did, the wooden length of the handle began to split.
You ended up landing face-first onto the grimy surface, a broken, bitter, if not hysterical laugh escaping you as you did. The rest of you broke into tears, unable to grasp the absurdity of it all, and yet, understanding all the same that, of course, it was never going to be that easy.
Surely, though, this⌠this couldnât have been it?
Just as quickly as the motivation appeared, it vanished within a split second, replacing itself with a horrible, profound sense of failure that rooted right into you.
God, to think that you risked Shoko to change nothing at all.
~~~
Choso left you in the van reluctantly, coming to stare at the brick wall that faced him as soon as he had stepped out. Things had gotten far too complicated, he could admit that, and yet, if he wanted to succeed, he knew that it wasnât ever going to be as simple as he had planned it out in his head. People would eventually ask questions about your appearance, and oftentimes, they started with people like their neighbours. He knew that if it came around to that, he would fold right away.
Though another part of himself forced him to start walking towards the direction of the park anyway, his limbs feeling stiff as he did so. His jaw clenched tightly, and just once, he paused when he heard a struggle break out where he had left you behind. The front of the interior would hold, so that much was fine. As long as you gave up and stayed where you were. Honestly, the threat of putting you in the back was largely a bluff. It was the one spot where it risked going wrong. The van in itself was just good enoughâbut barelyâfor what it was, but that thing was falling apart.
He forced himself to march on faster, just to get back to you sooner. The area was a bit out of the way, and he knew that he would likely not get away with anything too rash out in the open. Every now and then, a sound from further away in the area would carry over to where he was, and he would jump, which already painted an anxious picture. Any hint of a struggle from where he was might be heard not too far away. Besides that, he dreaded to imagine what that friend of yours might clock him as. If she saw through him right away, and as he approached what must have been her, something even stranger happened.
He⌠froze. He tried to speak, but couldnât, finding that his words died in his throat when he tried. Something about his plan to remove obstacles that prevented him from being together with you was something he struggled with deeper down. He even tried lifting both of his hands to imagine the possibility of strangling her on a whim, but the sensation that followed must have been a phantom one, since his limbs did not budge.
He forced himself to say something once more, though his voice still sounded quiet. If Shoko wasnât on edge, she might not have heard him.
âShoko, right?â he mumbled out.
Shoko turned around, narrowing her eyes at the sight of the nervous wreck before her. She leaned inâreluctantlyâto catch what was barely heard. âYeah,â she replied with a more level tone. âIs she okay?â she asked, cutting to the chase right away. âItâs not like her to disappear.â
Choso forced a laugh out in an attempt to lower the tension, hoping to convey that everything was fine. âYeah, sheâs okay. She just needed some time away from all of the stress,â he tried to say, his words far from convincing. His fingers pulled at his sleeves as he spoke, not quite understanding why he felt so nervous around her, and calmer around you. Perhaps it was because he hated this idea in particular. He did not want to hurt you, and getting rid of this person that you cared about would be doing that.
Shoko hummed thoughtfully. âEven so,â she caught, crossing her arms, resisting the urge to pull a cigarette out from her pocket to mask her own anxiety, âshe wouldnât just leave without letting me know. She wouldnât send someone else to speak for her either. I know her.â
âIâm also close to her,â Choso lied. âWeâre old friends,â he tried to add, not yet disclosing the true nature of their relationship, even though Shoko must have known. The text he sent was a futile attempt at best; she likely understood what she was getting into from the moment she received it. âSheâs just a bit overwhelmed with everything, and sheâll be back soon.â
Shoko silently scoffed, the corners of her lips twitching. âOld friends?â she repeated in a disbelieving tone. âOh, thatâs funny. She told me she grew up quite alone, and she doesnât seem like the type to lie.â
Shoko took a wary step back as she spoke, her posture becoming less open and far more guarded.
âAnd,â she continued, âclose?â she repeated once more, trying to deduce everything he was giving her. âDo you know what her major is?â she asked, largely as a question of security. If he knew you, then he should know that little thing.
Choso gulped nervously, but his eyes darkened considerably. Irritation started to surface, causing him to feel erratic. He was one hundred percent certain that this person knew what he was up to, hence why she was so quick to interrogate him, and as such, felt something regretful rising from within him. He tried to hold back because again, he didn't want to hurt you, and that meant mentally just as much as it did physically.
He risked you hating him even more if he lost his temper, but that would be only if you ever found out.
âSure do,â he confirmed, then before she could grill him further, he asked her just as quickly, âDo you?â
Shoko took a step back, and he took a step forward.
âI could take you to see her if youâd like,â he offered, his words landing steadier now, âprove to you that sheâs just fine.â
Shoko, however, just stared at him, her eyes wandering around just once or twice to scan the park. It wasnât crowded, but the distant sounds proved that at least some parts were at the very least occupied. She knew that following him would be a mistake, even if there were witnesses.
âSure, if she meets me at our usual spot,â she replied very carefully. âSheâll know where.â
Choso forced a stiff smile. âSounds good,â he said, his voice a little too calm. âIâll go back then and let her know that youâre willing to meet her if sheâs up for it at all.â
âRight,â Shoko agreed, watching him turn to leave and walk a considerable number of steps away from her before she started to do the same, but then she stopped when she could no longer hear his footsteps. A shudder ran through her spine as she started to turn around, but before she knew it, warm hands found their way around both her face to silence any screams and something more solid wrapped right around her throat, squeezing the life from her.
She thrashed as much as she could, but to get out of this alive, she needed a miracle.
~~~
Back in the van, after what seemed like forever of messing around with the faulty lock and the tiny gap between the doors, something finally gave out. You ended up stumbling out onto the concrete as it happened, landing roughly onto the concrete just outside, grazing your knees in the process. The area he had you in was desolate, but not fully.
You looked around, feeling the adrenaline return, feeling the sudden, horrible urge to bolt.
At least while you still could.
Which direction do you go?
Left (run into them both and save Shoko but at a cost)
Right (run towards the city, freeing yourself from him completely)
in which choso, your impassive neighbour from downstairs, started to get involved in your life in a way that felt invasive (x f!reader) (part 7) poll winner: heâs left us unbound in the van (split pov)
trigger warnings: lightly described violence, disturbing themes, yandere choso coming in strong here
< previous part ⢠from the beginning
â...Alright,â Choso breathed out at last, his words, however, landing a bit uncertainly. He wanted so badly to believe you, and even if he couldnât fully, just seeing your eyes soften with relief when he spoke was enough for now. Inflicting fear or pain upon you, after all, was something he wanted to avoid, even given the situation he forced you into.
You sighed out, too, immediately after, though you were still shaky. You had to curl your fingers into your palms to hide just how much. You had to force your gaze to lowerâyour blinking to cease momentarilyâjust to conceal your tears. Though as he left you alone in the van, and as the door slammed shut, everything you were holding back before started to spill. Everything burned as you struggled to rein in your composure to even think.
âShit, shit, shit,â you muttered to yourself; your words a messy, hurried mantra as you tried everything all at once. You pulled at the door handles; you tried to rotate yourself right around to force your heels against the windows, kicking them repeatedly, and though no alarm went off, nothing budged either.
Then, as you were in the midst of thrashing, a panel in the back gave out, its clanging against the van floor so loud it forced you to pause. You chanced retreated back there anyway, because what if? Slipping through the panel was easy work; it was just big enough to fit you. You pulled yourself through it, landing right on your hands and knees, coughing from the impact. Goodness. It was dusty back there.
When your vision adjusted to the darker stretch of the vehicle, you made the observation that the double-sided door was not locked properly, or at the very least, that it was damaged. A faint gap allowed a small amount of light to pass through. Towards the side of the vehicle, you spotted the glint of a gardening tool that appeared to be a rake tossed onto the flooring. You found yourself scrambling towards it with a surge of desperation, moving the teeth of the tool at an angle, then leaning against the handle with all of your might until you heard something creak.
You found yourself praying to yourself that you would get out of this somehow. For the most part, it seemed to be working, too. You felt great as it happened. What was this feeling? Adrenaline, maybe? You simply refused to accept the direction you were trapped in. You were not something to be stolen and then kept away from the world. You wanted to live and be free, and above all, be the one in control of it!
The metal began to crack open, but then just as it did, the wooden length of the handle began to split.
You ended up landing face-first onto the grimy surface, a broken, bitter, if not hysterical laugh escaping you as you did. The rest of you broke into tears, unable to grasp the absurdity of it all, and yet, understanding all the same that, of course, it was never going to be that easy.
Surely, though, this⌠this couldnât have been it?
Just as quickly as the motivation appeared, it vanished within a split second, replacing itself with a horrible, profound sense of failure that rooted right into you.
God, to think that you risked Shoko to change nothing at all.
~~~
Choso left you in the van reluctantly, coming to stare at the brick wall that faced him as soon as he had stepped out. Things had gotten far too complicated, he could admit that, and yet, if he wanted to succeed, he knew that it wasnât ever going to be as simple as he had planned it out in his head. People would eventually ask questions about your appearance, and oftentimes, they started with people like their neighbours. He knew that if it came around to that, he would fold right away.
Though another part of himself forced him to start walking towards the direction of the park anyway, his limbs feeling stiff as he did so. His jaw clenched tightly, and just once, he paused when he heard a struggle break out where he had left you behind. The front of the interior would hold, so that much was fine. As long as you gave up and stayed where you were. Honestly, the threat of putting you in the back was largely a bluff. It was the one spot where it risked going wrong. The van in itself was just good enoughâbut barelyâfor what it was, but that thing was falling apart.
He forced himself to march on faster, just to get back to you sooner. The area was a bit out of the way, and he knew that he would likely not get away with anything too rash out in the open. Every now and then, a sound from further away in the area would carry over to where he was, and he would jump, which already painted an anxious picture. Any hint of a struggle from where he was might be heard not too far away. Besides that, he dreaded to imagine what that friend of yours might clock him as. If she saw through him right away, and as he approached what must have been her, something even stranger happened.
He⌠froze. He tried to speak, but couldnât, finding that his words died in his throat when he tried. Something about his plan to remove obstacles that prevented him from being together with you was something he struggled with deeper down. He even tried lifting both of his hands to imagine the possibility of strangling her on a whim, but the sensation that followed must have been a phantom one, since his limbs did not budge.
He forced himself to say something once more, though his voice still sounded quiet. If Shoko wasnât on edge, she might not have heard him.
âShoko, right?â he mumbled out.
Shoko turned around, narrowing her eyes at the sight of the nervous wreck before her. She leaned inâreluctantlyâto catch what was barely heard. âYeah,â she replied with a more level tone. âIs she okay?â she asked, cutting to the chase right away. âItâs not like her to disappear.â
Choso forced a laugh out in an attempt to lower the tension, hoping to convey that everything was fine. âYeah, sheâs okay. She just needed some time away from all of the stress,â he tried to say, his words far from convincing. His fingers pulled at his sleeves as he spoke, not quite understanding why he felt so nervous around her, and calmer around you. Perhaps it was because he hated this idea in particular. He did not want to hurt you, and getting rid of this person that you cared about would be doing that.
Shoko hummed thoughtfully. âEven so,â she caught, crossing her arms, resisting the urge to pull a cigarette out from her pocket to mask her own anxiety, âshe wouldnât just leave without letting me know. She wouldnât send someone else to speak for her either. I know her.â
âIâm also close to her,â Choso lied. âWeâre old friends,â he tried to add, not yet disclosing the true nature of their relationship, even though Shoko must have known. The text he sent was a futile attempt at best; she likely understood what she was getting into from the moment she received it. âSheâs just a bit overwhelmed with everything, and sheâll be back soon.â
Shoko silently scoffed, the corners of her lips twitching. âOld friends?â she repeated in a disbelieving tone. âOh, thatâs funny. She told me she grew up quite alone, and she doesnât seem like the type to lie.â
Shoko took a wary step back as she spoke, her posture becoming less open and far more guarded.
âAnd,â she continued, âclose?â she repeated once more, trying to deduce everything he was giving her. âDo you know what her major is?â she asked, largely as a question of security. If he knew you, then he should know that little thing.
Choso gulped nervously, but his eyes darkened considerably. Irritation started to surface, causing him to feel erratic. He was one hundred percent certain that this person knew what he was up to, hence why she was so quick to interrogate him, and as such, felt something regretful rising from within him. He tried to hold back because again, he didn't want to hurt you, and that meant mentally just as much as it did physically.
He risked you hating him even more if he lost his temper, but that would be only if you ever found out.
âSure do,â he confirmed, then before she could grill him further, he asked her just as quickly, âDo you?â
Shoko took a step back, and he took a step forward.
âI could take you to see her if youâd like,â he offered, his words landing steadier now, âprove to you that sheâs just fine.â
Shoko, however, just stared at him, her eyes wandering around just once or twice to scan the park. It wasnât crowded, but the distant sounds proved that at least some parts were at the very least occupied. She knew that following him would be a mistake, even if there were witnesses.
âSure, if she meets me at our usual spot,â she replied very carefully. âSheâll know where.â
Choso forced a stiff smile. âSounds good,â he said, his voice a little too calm. âIâll go back then and let her know that youâre willing to meet her if sheâs up for it at all.â
âRight,â Shoko agreed, watching him turn to leave and walk a considerable number of steps away from her before she started to do the same, but then she stopped when she could no longer hear his footsteps. A shudder ran through her spine as she started to turn around, but before she knew it, warm hands found their way around both her face to silence any screams and something more solid wrapped right around her throat, squeezing the life from her.
She thrashed as much as she could, but to get out of this alive, she needed a miracle.
~~~
Back in the van, after what seemed like forever of messing around with the faulty lock and the tiny gap between the doors, something finally gave out. You ended up stumbling out onto the concrete as it happened, landing roughly onto the concrete just outside, grazing your knees in the process. The area he had you in was desolate, but not fully.
You looked around, feeling the adrenaline return, feeling the sudden, horrible urge to bolt.
At least while you still could.
Which direction do you go?
Left (run into them both and save Shoko but at a cost)
Right (run towards the city, freeing yourself from him completely)
With Flatline what is their dynamic going to be? What I liked about Chasing Humanity is that theyâre both unhinged in their own way. When does that update btw? Not rushing you as I know you updated recently
oh hi! thatâs a bit difficult to answer because itâs not going to lean into yandere territory so nothing is being tuned towards the direction of obsessive love. initially the route will be y/n discovering that the reality of meeting your favourite character is not as fun as it seems because all of a sudden kenjaku will have depth and flaws and well, uh, narcissists in general are often exhausting to be around. especially, like, villainy ones.
i suppose i can say that the dynamic is initially messy and complicated since their road towards an actual relationship is not without a lot of drama and effort and whatever else have you, just like in real life.
& i might be able to have the next part out by next week but we will see! itâs a bit of a longer chapter, but i do have extra time to write this + next week so i can see how much i can get done.
