Celebrating a week-long event dedicated to the pairing of Kougami Shinya and Tsunemori Akane from Psycho-Pass.
Shinkane Week: January 10 to January 17.
Thank you all for participating in this year's Shinkane Week and moreover, for celebrating this ship with us for the past 10 years of this blog's inception.
We are constantly in awe of all your talent, passion, and creativity and are humbled to see all aspects in your works—both from new contributors and returning ones. In particular, we want to extend a special mention to this year's participants (in alphabetical order):
Additionally, we want to express our gratitude to our community members for answering our questions, sharing their thoughts, and reflecting on our ship. You can view all their answers here!
As this blog's mods and as your fellow shippers, we are immensely grateful for your contributions to the fandom—whether that's as artists, supporters, or just as friends.
We will continue to reblog any other last minute posts so make sure to tag, mention, or message us for any we might have missed. As always, we also welcome questions, feedback, or if you just want to say hi.
Applications for Homophrosyne are currently open! Bring your love for Shinkane on over to this zine & let's make something really special.
My thanks go out, as always, to the other Shinkane Week mods. Letting us advertise here to the Shinkane community is just amazing. I'm so grateful for your support.
We are immensely excited to announce our project entitled Homophrosyne, an all-new Shinkane eZine.
As well as being a handy title, it’s also our theme. Homophrosyne references two people who can both think and/or feel alike; two peas in a pod, two birds of a feather, two people who are 100% ride or die. Odysseus to Penelope, Bonnie to Clyde. So, who better to use it for than Psycho-Pass’s own characters Shinya Kogami and Akane Tsuenmori?
The only requirement for this zine is that you figure out how this applies to the two of them. Do they get the other just the kind of coffee they like? Do they already know what the other will say about something without even asking? Do they have a conversation in just a brief look that makes Gino confounded? It’s all up to you.
We’re aiming to do a dual release for this zine, SFW and NSFW. Think of them as the daytime and nighttime in your own inspiration; what happens during the day can get spiced up at night.
You must be 18 or older to apply to the NSFW zine.
There are so many options, guys. We’re so excited to see what you decide to do.
This was intended for the patience/wrath prompt (mostly for wrath? Honestly the first draft was very different), but then it grew a mind of its own, pulled me into watching silat showcases, and i’m also reminded that i wanted to make a 3-part series of kougami & akane sparring. Here is the first one.
As beautiful as the canon choreo and setting was, sparring in the middle of a temple ground would be so intense. I just think it would be nice for them to do a rematch. For old times’ sake. Kougami could see how far Akane had come in terms of hand to hand combat, and she could also see that she can hold her own pretty well against someone more experienced. His smirk in the movie said everything tbh.
Also i’m delusional but I am so convinced that if Akane had a larger frame she’d be able to lock kougami down… she almost had it…
Shinkane Week day 5: I didn't finish the prompt I was the most excited for (sharing a bed, obv) in time, but it will be a 4 panel comic! Here's part of the sketch :') I'll hopefully have it done before the end of the event!
Completing the historical AU trifecta, with the 1918 AU, @shinkaneweek! For reference, Part 1 or Part 2.
Prompt: Wrath
Not even roses could cloak the pervasive stench of illness.
Kougami pressed the green cloth mask against his face, as they headed down the familiar yet sparser streets. People were giving each other a wide berth, and they hurried too when someone devolved into a coughing fit. Keeping pace beside him, Akane was drowning in an oversized men’s coat. Her short hair barely peeked under the lowered brim of her hat, and she only lifted her head when they arrived at the gate. At her hesitation, Kougami rang the bell. The seconds stretched, and then, the door flung open.
Ginoza had dark circles under his eyes, his expression of unbridled wrath. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“To help, because of the influenza. We already had it, so we’re immune. Is anyone sick?”
“At the moment, Hinakawa, Kagari, and Masaoka.” His reply was clipped, before turning to Akane. “Your grandmother’s symptoms started two days ago.”
“May I see her?” She began to tremble. “Please.”
Perhaps, it was the lack of sleep that made him cave, but he did let them in. The house was eerily quiet. Kougami watched Akane run up the stairs, and he approached Gino. “Who’s the worst off?”
He removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I must be honest, Kagari should be in the hospital but he’s refusing. He thinks he’ll die for certain if he goes. Sugo is tending to him and the dowager, while I have Hinakawa…and my father.”
“How is he?”
“Days are better than nights. Then, he hallucinates about my mother and calls out to her.”
Kougami clenched his teeth. “And where is Kunizuka?”
“Last week, Dr. Karanomori was called to assist her colleagues in the hospital, and Kunizuka volunteered too. They don’t know, I didn’t want to risk further spread of infection.” His shoulders sagged. “If you really are immune…”
“Get some rest, Gino. Miss Tsunemori and I can take over.”
“And for that matter, what did you do while you were gone?”
Kougami was halfway to the servants’ quarters, but he paused. “Nothing dishonorable.”
He spluttered. “That’s not what I meant! And it doesn’t matter anyway, her disappearance already has put a stain on her reputation.”
It was bitterly true. “We traveled the same path for a short distance, but our map took us back home. That’s it.” And then, he continued walking, to the sickbeds of his friends.
***
At the end of the day, Kougami gave in to a smoke, irrationally angry at the virus. Masaoka’s eyes had been glazed over with fever, and Kagari was a shell of his former exuberance, spots of high color in his pale face. The latter had croaked to him.
“Damn this flu, it really bites.”
Kougami was about to respond, when he realized Kagari had fallen into shivering sleep. He placed another blanket on top of him, and was going to see if Sugo needed assistance, when Gino said he was requested upstairs. The following discussion had been enlightening, to say the least.
And suddenly, there was a scream of horror. He ran in, to a din of urgent voices outside Kagari’s room. He recognized Karanomori and Kunizuka, or at least, their backs as they disappeared behind the door. Sugo was speaking into the telephone, providing the house's address. And Akane was on the floor.
Kougami knelt next to her. “What happened?”
“K-kagari…I went to say good night…his face was blue!” She cried out, and without thinking twice, he carried her away from the scene. He didn’t look back as he entered her room, laying her on the bed.
“I was the last one to see him alive. I should have noticed something.” Later, Karanomori would tell him that it was already too late when he developed the spots of color, but at the moment, he cursed himself. “But they’re taking him to the hospital now. What we can do, is to make sure this doesn’t spread to anyone else.”
“It was horrible.”
“You should-”
“I only need a minute.” Her fingers had never left the front of his shirt, and her grip tightened. “Kougami-san, I don’t want to run anymore.”
“…Understood.”
***
So, they did not run, despite the inevitable.
That night, Karanomori had also examined the others. The lady’s condition was borderline, but she could remain at home.
“Hinakawa-kun, I think it’s best if we treat you in the hospital.” She gently recommended. “I’ll do what I can to get you a bed.”
“It’s better if it goes to Kagari-kun.” He coughed noisily.
“Right now, his situation is very grave. But you haven’t developed the same symptoms yet. Please, come with us.”
“A-alright.”
“Very good. Yayoi, how’s Masaoka-san?”
Kunizuka flashed a meaningful look. “Did he tell any of you he was coughing up blood?”
“What?! No!” Ginoza protested.
“That’s why he was hanging on to his dishware…” Sugo muttered.
Karanomori immediately went to him, and Gino was right on her heels. Kougami followed too, in time to hear Gino’s shout. “How could you? Why would you pretend you were fine?”
And in a tone Kougami had never heard before, from the man who used to lift every rowhouse child on his shoulders, Masaoka weakly said. “Because…I didn’t want to burden you. After all, you’re my son.”
He would not survive the week, according to Karanomori’s grim prognosis. But Masaoka was at peace with it, telling a devastated Gino he would be an exemplary head butler. He was given medicine to ease his suffering, and when he slipped away in final comfort, he had a faint smile. Kougami stayed until his skin was cold, and bowed his head.
“Thanks, Pops.”
For a week, there was no word, but in the middle of the morning, a phone call delivered the news of Kagari’s death. They could not see him for a final time, he had to be cremated immediately. Akane did not shed tears when the urn was delivered, but her expression, heavy with sorrow, was just as bad.
And then, Gino stumbled into the hallway, holding the thermometer. “I’ve caught it.” At first glance, he seemed tenuous, but he had the strength to attempt resisting Akane’s rice porridge and Kougami’s many cool rags to siphon off the fever. Every day, that strength increased, and then, he calmly sat up, ready to return to work.
Meanwhile, the lady deteriorated. She summoned Akane, for what was to be the last time. “I have papers in my desk, that are only to be read after I am gone.”
“Obaa-chan, no…”
“Read them carefully, and I’ll have no worries left, Acchan.”
And as Akane sobbed, Kougami recalled their discussion.
The lady had written a will, signed by two witnesses. Ginoza, the butler who had served the household so faithfully. And Kougami, who had escorted her granddaughter to the countryside, with a successful recovery from an illness in the past several months. The will detailed that the inheritance would not pass to a distant male relative, but instead, everything would belong to Akane.
That night, Miss Tsunemori became the new lady of the house.
***
Autumn turned to winter, and another outbreak occurred. Kunizuka and Sugo contracted the virus this round, but their symptoms were milder. By some miracle, Hinakawa survived double pneumonia and discovered a liking for his pharmacy during his hospital stay. Gino had lost some of his neurotic edge to the influenza, and although he visited Masaoka’s grave regularly, he was a steadfast head butler.
Kougami resumed his driving duties, especially to the new events Akane was invited to. After an excruciating dinner that was a matchmaking session in disguise, she kicked off her shoes in the yard and complained. “Just when I finish with one polite refusal, five more invitations arrive.”
“That’s because your reputation is crystal clear.”
“Yes, and now, I have no shortage of suitors.” She miserably said. “Their names are blurring together: Mukojima, Watanabe, Uchikoga.”
“Not Tougane?”
“He died in the first wave of the epidemic.”
Kougami could not feign grief over the news. “Well, I can’t be sorry. But there’s something I have to tell you, and I can’t put it off any longer.”
“What is it?” In the fading twilight, she was lovely in her ivory dress.
“I’m leaving town. For how long, I can’t say.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you, but it’s best that way, so you don’t follow. Like you said, you can’t run anymore. But you can stand on your own, and you’re more than capable of leading the household. You can show those socialites, that you can rise to every challenge…and you absolutely will, if I’m not around to spark investigation or renew rumors.”
“I don’t care about what they’ll think! I only want you. So, please-”
He kissed her. He had thought of this, ever since a crimson imprint on his handkerchief, and it was as if she was dyeing him in her color. Brilliant, sweet, full of promise.
She didn’t move at first, but then, her fingers stroked the nape of his neck and he shuddered. His hands instinctively pulled her in closer, plucking at the buttons of her dress. The softness of her inner thigh slid against his hip, and at his groan, she made a sound of pure desire.
What if he abandoned his plan? What if he ruined her, right here and now, and she could have her wish? If they had no other recourse than to marry, what life would they have?
Faced with the judgment of society, all her promise would vanish like smoke. Then, he would be the monster.
He let go of her. “It was for a short time, but I was happy to work for you. To be with you, Akane. Thank you.” Almost violently, he sprinted into the night, and couldn’t help hearing her anguished scream.
“Kougami-san!”
The calls of his name went unanswered. Hours later, after negotiating his passage on a merchant ship, he stared into the dark waves and knew he would remember the press of her warm lips until his very last breath.
@shinkaneweek, I went ahead with the Sengoku AU this time, picking up from Part 1 and Part 2!
Prompt: God providing protective care
The aroma of summer grass wove around her long sleeves, as Akane bowed twice in worship. She was glad, that the lady had suggested a visit to the shrine. An hour spent in this tranquil place was better than waiting for a messenger, or watching the horizon in vain.
She offered her hopes to the gods for protection, especially for Lady Rin to have a smooth childbirth and for Kougami, who must have arrived at his destination. She had even purchased talismans, and she enclosed one in a short letter to her husband.
Upon her return to the castle, she gifted the lady with hers, who smiled and pressed it over her round belly. “I’m envious that you enjoyed the fresh air, I have not stepped past the walls in so long. ‘The world rushes on, and now spring is over. It seems that only yesterday, everything I saw was in full flower.’”
“Izumi Shikibu, my lady?” Her closest attendant, Tsubasa, asked. She was engaged to Kurata, one of the young commanders, but she insisted on seeing to Lady Rin’s needs until she delivered.
“Yes, exactly. Perhaps, we should gather for an evening of renga, so we can make our own verses, and distract ourselves from our absent loves.”
Akane preferred reading over writing stanzas, but she couldn’t refuse the invitation. She sat at her husband’s low table; she was unsurprised that the sole poetry collection was of death poems. When he was back, she would do her best and find something to his liking.
Avoiding her blank paper, she tidied the books, and her fingers came away with the scent of smoke. The vision of Kougami’s clever touch on the pages made her catch her breath. How fiercely, she missed him at this moment. Another of the Heian noblewoman’s tanka sprung forth in her memory.
“Even if I now saw you, only once,” She murmured, reciting the words like a prayer. “I would long for you through worlds, worlds.”
And with yearning in her heart, ink flowed across the paper.
***
Two weeks later, shouts interrupted her sleep. She took up her naginata, but there was no need. The party arriving through the main gate was their own, and she searched for a wolf mask. Belatedly, she noticed the sheen of blood on the path.
She rushed out of their quarters, stopping at the stairs. She bit back her cry at the sight of her husband, with a blackened eye and slumped posture, but he was alive. She helped him out of his stained armor, waiting for him to speak first.
“The incident had nothing to do with Makishima, after all.” He wearily said. “But Lord Otomo was injured. He may never hold a weapon again.”
The shock left her at a loss for words. “How terrible.”
“The rivals will see it as an opportunity to infringe upon us.”
“And with the lady in her delicate condition…”
“We will be on the defensive for some time.”
She hesitated but decided to share her news. “Is the name Toma Kozaburo familiar to you?”
“No…ah. I was mistaken. Sasayama had mentioned him, they met in the capital. He was a head monk, despite his youth, and in the spider web of politics there. What did you uncover?”
“A rumor, that he was involved with Lady Toko of the Kirino clan. She died a few years ago, but…her father had wanted to marry her into the Sasayama family. I’m sorry, that was the extent of it.”
“It’s plenty, to start with. Thank you.” Then, he drew her close, into an embrace. His deep voice rumbled against her neck. “I forgot. I am home, Akane.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Welcome back, my husband.” She held on tightly to his shoulders, grateful that the gods had kept him safe.
Another piece updated for this year's Shinkane Week. It's Pt 1 of my two parter, set in the refugee came outside of Shambala Float. I cleaned it up some; enjoy the revamp of Smokes & Regret:
@shinkaneweek, I went ahead with the Sengoku AU this time, picking up from Part 1 and Part 2!
Prompt: God providing protective care
The aroma of summer grass wove around her long sleeves, as Akane bowed twice in worship. She was glad, that the lady had suggested a visit to the shrine. An hour spent in this tranquil place was better than waiting for a messenger, or watching the horizon in vain.
She offered her hopes to the gods for protection, especially for Lady Rin to have a smooth childbirth and for Kougami, who must have arrived at his destination. She had even purchased talismans, and she enclosed one in a short letter to her husband.
Upon her return to the castle, she gifted the lady with hers, who smiled and pressed it over her round belly. “I’m envious that you enjoyed the fresh air, I have not stepped past the walls in so long. ‘The world rushes on, and now spring is over. It seems that only yesterday, everything I saw was in full flower.’”
“Izumi Shikibu, my lady?” Her closest attendant, Tsubasa, asked. She was engaged to Kurata, one of the young commanders, but she insisted on seeing to Lady Rin’s needs until she delivered.
“Yes, exactly. Perhaps, we should gather for an evening of renga, so we can make our own verses, and distract ourselves from our absent loves.”
Akane preferred reading over writing stanzas, but she couldn’t refuse the invitation. She sat at her husband’s low table; she was unsurprised that the sole poetry collection was of death poems. When he was back, she would do her best and find something to his liking.
Avoiding her blank paper, she tidied the books, and her fingers came away with the scent of smoke. The vision of Kougami’s clever touch on the pages made her catch her breath. How fiercely, she missed him at this moment. Another of the Heian noblewoman’s tanka sprung forth in her memory.
“Even if I now saw you, only once,” She murmured, reciting the words like a prayer. “I would long for you through worlds, worlds.”
And with yearning in her heart, ink flowed across the paper.
***
Two weeks later, shouts interrupted her sleep. She took up her naginata, but there was no need. The party arriving through the main gate was their own, and she searched for a wolf mask. Belatedly, she noticed the sheen of blood on the path.
She rushed out of their quarters, stopping at the stairs. She bit back her cry at the sight of her husband, with a blackened eye and slumped posture, but he was alive. She helped him out of his stained armor, waiting for him to speak first.
“The incident had nothing to do with Makishima, after all.” He wearily said. “But Lord Otomo was injured. He may never hold a weapon again.”
The shock left her at a loss for words. “How terrible.”
“The rivals will see it as an opportunity to infringe upon us.”
“And with the lady in her delicate condition…”
“We will be on the defensive for some time.”
She hesitated but decided to share her news. “Is the name Toma Kozaburo familiar to you?”
“No…ah. I was mistaken. Sasayama had mentioned him, they met in the capital. He was a head monk, despite his youth, and in the spider web of politics there. What did you uncover?”
“A rumor, that he was involved with Lady Toko of the Kirino clan. She died a few years ago, but…her father had wanted to marry her into the Sasayama family. I’m sorry, that was the extent of it.”
“It’s plenty, to start with. Thank you.” Then, he drew her close, into an embrace. His deep voice rumbled against her neck. “I forgot. I am home, Akane.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Welcome back, my husband.” She held on tightly to his shoulders, grateful that the gods had kept him safe.
“The last thing I remember before passing out was Sem’s story about the ancient customs - the full moon ceremony, then something about an eclipse myth - but there’s this part about a formless deity swallowing a goddess whole that struck me… She persevered over the deity and re-emerged, as expected of folklores, but I can’t help but wonder if that exact nature is what made her appear in my dreams instead. Was it the rice wine, or perhaps a sign? Do I still have any right to assume it to be a premonition?”
