@rt0001 :// ❝ captain narumi, sir. ❞ sagan's voice is soft, just loud enough to be heard over the echoes of training below them. ( but not enough for her sister to hear. ) it's important she catches him here and now, without the risk of someone overhearing in a hallway or just outside his office door—— and she still hesitates. it's unbecoming of her. with a deep breath, she continues: ❝ this may not be my place, but i wanted to thank you. for looking after kikoru. ❞ the words of a sister who hadn't been able to see her grow, who had died years ago, feel heavy on her tongue. ❝ she's grown strong under you. ❞
you kept taunting me putting me through torture so ANOTHER kirumi child be upon us
pull out :(
FINE, WHATEVER, ANOTHER KID UNDER THE CUT COME HERE AGAIN SPARKY @rt0001
name: narumi tsuneo
gender: non-binary masc presenting, uses he/they
general appearance: if mariko's the carbon copy of kira, tsuneo takes after gen in a way that makes you think kira's genes just did not try at all, from the bangs to his resting expression, it's all from narumi.
personality: tsuneo is a quiet ragebaiter. he never raises his voice unless he needs to shout, but he has a way of saying something with a monotonous voice that makes you angry for some reason. what makes it worse is that he knows the effect it has, because that's exactly what he wants. tsuneo could just look at you and give you the smallest grin and you know he's trying to get you to get angry at him. any other time, though, he can be quite charming especially if he needs something from you... just like his mom.
special talents: insanely good at close - combat fighting styles, these hands are rated E for everyone. took piano lessons as a kid and they stuck with him. really good at wordle.
who they like better: refuses to confess because mom and dad make a lot of noise when they argue. can be persuaded with sweet treats.
who they take after more: definitely kira. if mariko is a mini-gen, tsuneo is a mini-kira.
personal head canon: while mariko's got this idolization of narumi that makes her think that her dad's invincible, tsuneo wants to become reliable to relieve some of that burden on his dad's shoulders. he's an observant kid, knows more than he lets on. he always used to fetch narumi his house slippers when he hears him come home from work, making sure they're facing the right way for his dad to step in. used to be a bit of a crybaby when he was younger because he was just so scared of something happening to narumi, he'd be sniffling holding onto mariko's sleeve trying to be brave when he saw him next because the son of the strongest can't be seen as weak.
❛ you're so bad at this game, it hurts to watch. ❜
SHE STEPS INTO THE SNARE OF HIS CHALLENGE, not blindly, but incensed by his insufferable drawl, hooked by the barb of his provocation. it was a mistake, she knew it the moment she took the controller in her hands, the foreign geometry of it unfamiliar under her fingers. a wiser woman might have sought his counsel, swallowed her pride, endured the minor disgrace of tutelage to avert the greater humiliation of failure. but that, too, would have been a surrender: an exercise in degradation masquerading as instruction. the thought of it curdles something visceral in her. she would sooner let the earth split beneath her feet than ask him for anything.
she feels maddened by his voice, her patience has been stripped, gnawed down to meagre rations. the blood in her swelters, turbulent, rising. ❛ will you shut up. shut up! some of us have better things to do than sit and play games all day. ❜ magic unfurls from her fingertips, neither grand nor ostentatious but steady in its intent, dark in its efficacy. it threads into the circuitry, burrows into the plastic, saturates every wire & every connection with its singular decree: narumi gen will lose every game he ever plays.
❛ you do it then, since you think you’re so clever. ❜
if this wasn't important, kira wouldn't have pried herself away from her work to attend. her uniform still appeared freshly pressed, instead of wrinkled from restless movement as it usually was. ❛ we should fake an emergency and leave. ❜ she was still smiling tightly as she whispered the words to narumi at her side.
Japan's strongest —— it's sort of interesting, the mixed grief and hunger in this body. To be the strongest is / to be a tool. And to be a tool is... But Soma doesn't hate it, or doesn't know yet that they're allowed to hate it, so maybe Gen Narumi is the same, too.
They want to eat him, too, of course, probably because they've eaten so much in the past twenty - minutes of a now - finished battle. Eat too much dessert and you get sick. It would make them more useful if they had all of their skills and Narumi's, though. ( soma wants to be useful. soma does not want to replace yet more of the scarce self that exists with someone else, even to be useful. it's a distinction they're only just learning how to articulate to themself. ) Soma wants. For themself and for others. For now, Soma mostly wants ——
"You know future," she observes, voice curious, as she licks Kaiju blood off her fingers. Fighting is so much fun, especially with new people. She forgets she's in pain if she's distracted. "This body CLOZER's strongest, but it can't do that. How?"
❛ hey, can you lend me some money? i need to get the new bundle on fortnite. ❜ what if we were both annoying broke mfs who gave each other migraines?<3
HE HAD, IN A MOMENT OF OPTIMISM, gossamer-thin & teetering on the precipice of delusion, entertained the thought that a position of this alleged calibre might afford him the occasional indulgence. a small slice of pleasure amid the endless grind. perhaps the greasy, unrepentant comfort of a takeaway, gluttonised thoughtlessly, as one might indulge in a guilty pleasure. or the contentment of paying full price for a drink, that ephemeral illusion of solvency — one that evaporates before you can even take an abstemious sip, let alone a swill.
naturally, reality comes knocking on — or in dante’s case, knocking down — his door with an invoice, itemised & insistent. lady’s cut vanishes first like some cheap parlour trick: the sum non-negotiable, handed over with the grim efficiency of ritual, as predictable as the sunrise. the property damages follow in quick succession, subtracted with the cold precision of bureaucratic necessity, as though mere proximity to the adversities were sufficient to brand him guilty. he didn’t cause it, but who cares? what’s left barely covers rent, & the rest? it dissolves into the churn, swept away by the relentless current of diurnal obligations.
splurging, it turns out, is a luxury afforded only to those whose financial acumen does not rest upon the frail hope that their coat pockets are somehow deeper than their mounting debts. speaking of which… ❛ you’re outta luck, gen. spent it all on a new coat. custom made… can’t you tell? ❜ save for a few embellishments — talismans for his particular line of work, others, no doubt, just for ostentatious display — it is, in essence, no different from the last but dante brandishes it like his favourite weapon, ready to be worn with flair. ❛ thought you would’ve had enough of skins, seeing as your last ones came with claws. ❜
