Whumpy Webcomic Feature: Footsteps in the Snow, SAISA.
Panels of Seonu and his two adopted feral big brothers
TW: blood. Spoilers below.
“I’m not here to babysit someone who’s dead weight.”
Credit to: SAISA, Footsteps in the Snow

seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from Germany
seen from Switzerland

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Finland

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Brazil

seen from T1

seen from Brazil
Whumpy Webcomic Feature: Footsteps in the Snow, SAISA.
Panels of Seonu and his two adopted feral big brothers
TW: blood. Spoilers below.
“I’m not here to babysit someone who’s dead weight.”
Credit to: SAISA, Footsteps in the Snow
Inspecting The Damage
Saitou checks out Sanosuke's wounds after a fight(that the roosterhead likely started).
Some people make Kenkao kabocha. Others make Cho-styled chirashi. Only a certain pair can make Sukiyaki a la Saisa.
I don’t go here anymore but a lovely reader left me a kind comment on something I posted years ago. I had this story finished and just collecting dust on my laptop, so here’s one last hurrah.
Saitou: *dropping Sano off at the train station* have a safe trip
Sano: I have no say in the matter
Saitou: die then
Sano, Saito, arrow , message :D
This is ridiculous.
Saitou ruffled his overgrown hair, cut a couple of milimetres short by the damn thing that flew his way, that clicking of the tongue involuntarily on his lips by now. If it was only this strand of hair that had suffered, he wouldn’t have cared so much, but this was the goddamn fifth time this happened already and it was only Tuesday! He knew he had enemies...but none nearly as unskilled as that.
To shoot five times and miss all five? No, his enemies were far more competent--he was far more competent to have better enemies than that.
Which was why his mind finally drifted to the next best thing. It wasn’t an enemy, but a friendly face that made the attacks, meant to distract or warn or simply tease. He considered then.
He didn’t have many friends - see any - so this was even more unbelievable. But he had to think things through. Let’s retrace the perp’s steps. First, it was behind the Akabeko, while Saitou was patrolling. Then, it was right outside the police headquarters - how daring - as it to both taunt authority and him; third time it happened he was walking to a meeting with that buffoon, Cho, smack dab in the middle of the street. None seemed to notice other than the intended victim, but the fact remained it was dangerous and maybe a little stupid.
Fourth time was when he was almost at his favourite soba restaurant, needing a quick meal before he went on and now this, on his way to a crime scene - some fools got into an argument with someone, got in over their heads and gotten beaten black and blue - . Whoever this idiot was, he couldn’t shoot straight. He was shit with the crossbow. Scoffing, he continued walking. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sensed the idiot who was trying to shoot, but he had more important things to do than that.
After he arrived at the scene of the crime though...something felt off. And a little familiar. These broken bones and the bruises these men had, they were familiar, too. As if it was done by someone he knew. Someone who liked using his fists and enjoyed a good fight; who was quick to anger and shout profanities at the current goverment; someone who unflinchingly disrespected authority and him himself included.
The same idiot who would have someone shoot darts at him from a distance in places he knew Saitou frequented and would serve as a quiet triumph when Saitou happed upon this “crime scene”.
He sighed as the sixth arrow of the day was released; this once, he actually caught the damn projectile and was not surprised to see a letter pierced in its head. Weary, he read the thing in a second; scoffing, and without hesitation he proceeded to flick it away, like a cigarette. But he couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he wrapped up his case.
This is how you let people know you’re alive, asshole! Why can’t you ever even show your face? By the way, I’m alive, asshole. Meet you for drinks later.PS Kenshin says hi.
saisa- “Hello (acoustic)”
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