#zaiki

[archival-account-2]

꒰ ❛ j-actors masterlist ❜ ꒱

-`,✎ this is a masterlist of all my japanese actors-related (fanfic) works; short stories, ficlets, drabbles, headcanons, etc.

-`,✎ aside from one-shots, i also included full-fledged fanfictions in this masterlist. however, they would have their own masterlist - clicking on those fanfics will lead you to their masterlist.

˚ ༘ ❢ ˖° ꒰ ❥ 𖡻 MARIO KUROBA ❛ 𑁍 cuffed (i) ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 cuffed (ii) ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 cuffed (iii) ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 mr. mechanic (i) ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved

-`,✎ ( to be written / made )

❛ 𑁍 purple town ᠁ featuring mario kuroba ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 everdear ᠁ featuring zaiki takuma ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 strangers from the crimson tides ᠁ featuring mario kuroba , zaiki takuma , spi , hideya tawada ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved ❛ 𑁍 fuji the olympus ᠁ featuring mario kuroba , zaiki takuma , spi , hideya tawada ᠁ from my old account ; to be moved

-`,✎ ( to be written / made )

[dtccompendium]

Episode 23: The Cruise Ship Serial Murder Case (Part 2)

Someone let Zaiki out of the cargo hold. The lights went out, and the aunt’s son, who draws a lot, was stabbed in the leg. Conan got freaked out by something in the closet. It was probably Zaiki. The Hatamotos continued to all blame each other for the murder until Conan finally deduced that the aunt’s son stabbed himself, because he is insane and thought that it would make him less suspicious. In the end, Conan knew the aunt’s son was the culprit because artists use bread as erasers. The granddaughter and Zaiki get back together and live happily ever after.

[archival-account]

THE STRANGERS FROM THE CRIMSON TIDES | Ikalawang Kabanta, Ikalawang Bahagi

The campsite surrounded a bonfire that burned brightly and fiercely. The smoldering light of fire created shadows before it - tall men in uniform. Some holding knives, some holding guns, others in deep chatter. They didn’t seem put any much concern to the other men around them when...

“Everyone! Help! Man down! Man down! Commander Tawada got hit!”

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing. Soldiers sitting by the bonfire stood up as others already ran to the men supporting their injured commander. Officers who heard the clamor got out from their tents and joined the circle of soldiers who are carrying their fellow comrade. 

Asako Satoka, a trusted colonel of the general, led the group to the infirmary where Kenzou Yukitou was manning the tent. 

“Doctor Kenzou! Doctor Kenzou!” Asako called out, grabbing the attention of the idle doctor. “Commander Tawada’s been shot!” 

Hideya groaned, disgruntled by the fact he got a wound on his first day, and that he wasn’t able to deter himself from the attacker. He knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but still. He missed an opportunity to strike. But then again, how would he know whether or not the person is armed? 

“Aiyah...” Kenzou mumbled, clicking his tongue. He walked from the portable surgery table to the group of waiting soldiers. “Put Commander Tawada on the futon. Lay him down and make space for me,” he instructed sternly. With him are his basic surgeon tools with rolls of bandages. 

Asako and the soldiers laid Hideya down, careful not too put strain on his bleeding thigh. Hideya grunted and groaned as the pain of the bullet seared through his flesh. The bleeding hadn’t stopped but it had slowed down while he was being transported from the place where he was shot. Nonetheless, he kept losing blood at a constant rate. Therefore, he would need immediate medical attention before the blood is fully drained from him. 

As the men made way for the military doctor, Kenzou surveyed Hideya first. He was satiated by the fact that there were no extra injuries, other than the bullet wound on his thigh. Without wasting time, Kenzou cut the fabric of Hideya’s pants, right atop of the wound. When he saw the injury, he clicked his tongue once again. 

Whoever shot Commander Twada had a nifty gun himself. It’ll take a while for me to retrieve the bullet from the muscle, Kenzou thought. 

By then, word had got around and it reached the ears of General Mario Kuroba, and his two other commanders, Zaiki Takuma and Spi. All three men made their way to the infirmary tent and asked the soldiers what had happened right away. 

The youngest of the bunch, Sato Wotaru, piped up, saying, “We were scheduled to patrol the area near a valley. We didn’t suspect a trespasser to be around and we got startled. We weren’t able to capture him or see his face, even. Before we knew it, Commander Tawada got shot, so called for help.”

One of the pursuers, Aroki Miuda, continued the narrative. He said, “We heard their cry for help, so me and my friend came around. The trespasser was still around, so we decided to pursue him instead. Unfortunately, we lost track of him in the deeper part of the woods. He knew how to dispose us from his tracks.”

“I see,” Mario said, quite surprised of the kerfuffle that happened on their first day here. (Technically, they are on their second day because it happened in the early hours of the dawn.) “Is he badly injured, Doctor Kenzou?”

Kenzou hunched his shoulders as he exhaled. He said, “It depends, general. The wound seems pretty deep and the bleeding is kind of constant. But there’s nothing pressure and metal can fix. Please excuse yourselves, men. I’d rather work without an audience.”

Within a few minutes, everyone had shuffled out of the infirmary tent, leaving the doctor and patient alone. 

As Kenzou applied alcohol to cotton balls, Hideya couldn’t help but make a small talk. If there’s one thing that could take his mind off from the pain, it would be chattering. He said, “Hey, doc...”

“Not now, commander. Save your energy and saliva for later when I’m done.”

“The trespasser wasn’t a man...”

Yes, and your injury was just ketchup sauce. The next thing I know, this was all a prank, Kenzou thought as he laid his first-aid kit on the ground. He nitpicked all of them until he settled for the longest, thinnest pair of tweezers he could find.

“How would I be inclined to believe that, hmm?” Kenzou asked, hunching his trunk as he held the tweezers. “I thought neither of you four saw his face.”

“I just knew it wasn’t a man... I could tell from the hand that held the revolver.”

“A revolver, you now say. And here I thought you’d never ever even seen the weapon.”

“I... I am a commander, remember?”

“Ah, yes. I forgot about that, because all I’m ever seeing now is a mere patient, not a military officer. Now, hush up and let me work. The sooner I can get the bullet, the faster I can patch you up.”

While the doctor meddled with the patient, the remaining higher-ups held a small meeting in Mario’s tent. 

They were baffled by what happened. They weren’t expecting the occurrence that had happened to Hideya. As much as they were expecting a broil from the Allied Powers, they weren’t ready to deal an early damage on their side.

However, that was highly debatable since it was considered a possibility. 

According to Zaiki, who assumed the worse, it could have been anybody who was siding with the Americans - be it an American himself or a Filipino who could be a mercenary, a spy, an undercover, or a secret agent to the governing colonizer.

Mario, as he was somehow opposed to Zaiki, said, “We cannot immediately assume the worst of the worst. If we go ahead of ourselves, General Hirohito might steam ahead. We can’t let such a force alarm rush the plan.”

Spi interjected, “General Kuroba, is right, commander. We can’t immediately assume it’s the enemy who shot our comrade. Who knows, really. Maybe it was a careless witness.”

Zaiki disagreed and argued, “And if that ‘careless’ witness gets ahold of any men from the nemesis lines-”

Mario raised his hands, silencing the debating commanders. He honestly didn’t want to hear any of it. After all, it was only their first day and something broke out that alarmed their squadron. Figuring only the safest probability, the calm general only said, “Let’s not put our worst foot on this. If word goes out and somehow would reach General Hirohito’s ears, the plan would have a dent and put our respectful leader to a pinch. This was as far as we can all go and yet, I don’t want us to go all in because of a minor inconvenience. Let bygones be bygones and, who knows? Maybe that witness might leave what he sees on the spot.”

Zaiki didn’t allow himself to believe but he relented reluctantly while taking his words with a grain of salt. Spi didn’t fully put his trust on the general’s words, but he understood that he’s just trying to douse the fire that incidentally sparked. 

“Well, I hope he does leave whatever memory he got there on the spot,” Zaiki grunted, standing up from the folding chair and dusting himself. “I’m not fully convinced by that, though. But I’m tired of disputing the matter until we can do something about it.” He took his pouch and his Arisaka. “I’m going back to my tent. Good night, general, commander.”

When he left, Spi didn’t immediately follow him. Instead, he followed up the general with the question, “But what would really happen if that witness testifies what he had seen and done?”

“He won’t.” Mario cocked his own Arisaka. “Because he can try and we will see what will happen to him if he does.”

[archival-account]

THE STRANGERS FROM THE CRIMSON TIDES | Ikatlong Kabanata

By the time Cecilia had woken up, it was already eight-thirty in the morning. The roosters around Sta. Valentina had already crowed two hours ago, welcoming the dawn that was rising in the east. By now. the sun was halfway across the blue skies and everybody across the town was already going to and fro, attending to their daily errands, chores, and jobs. 

Teresa entered her bedroom, carrying a basket full of clean laundry with one hand. She called out to her sleepy sister, “Pepita? Time to wake up now!”

Cecilia groggily responded, “I’m up... I’m up...” She carelessly threw off the covers and stood from the bed. She stretched her arms and exhaled. She still hadn’t gotten over the encounter from last night but she’s not going to express that sentiment. She was nearly caught by the neck last night by her aunts and sister. She’s not going to allow the men of the house to catch a glimpse of that, too. “Are the boys up already?”

“They’re already on their way to the sawmill,” Teresa replied, huffing as she tried to balance the basket in her arms. “They wanted to catch up with you about what had happened last night but Auntie Helena wanted to hear none of it. She doesn’t want to be distressed the second time today, though, you do owe all of us an explanation.”

Well, maybe once you hear the explanation, you might regret asking me for it, Cecilia sourly thought. 

“You already got an explanation last night. All of you. I used the gun for protection. What else am I supposed to do? Stand still and meet my death?” Cecilia asked, trying to make a point while scoffing. “Nothing out of the ordinary, really,” she fibbed. 

Teresa narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. She said, “Like I am ought to believe that. Change now and eat your breakfast. You have to maintain the house today yourself because I have to attend to Señorita Amita.”

“The brat?”

“Pepita!” 

“Right, right, right. Carry on, then. Leave the basket in the sala and I’ll attend to them after I eat breakfast. You go ahead because I’ll take it from there.”

Cecilia changed into her clean pair of baro’t saya - a beige windy blouse she always wears and a crimson plaid-printed skirt - then wrapped a headdress over her choppy, shoulder-length hair. Satisfied, the maiden skirted down the stairs and headed to the dining room that is adjacent to the kitchen. 

When she arrived there, she was greeted by Auntie Risa, who said to her, “How was your sleep, dear? I hope you weren’t really bothered by the encounters last night. Also, you’ve deeply upset your Auntie Helena. She refused to see you.”

Like always, Cecilia bitterly thought. 

Cecilia answered, “I’m not that bothered at all, auntie. I was shaken, sure, but not that bothered.” Cecilia paused. “I doubt I might even see Auntie Helena. I’m going out today. Again.”

Auntie Risa sighed almost dramatically, finding her niece unbelievable. 

“Goodness, child! Now you will really get an actual scolding later if you-”

“No, no, no, auntie! I meant I’ll do some errands around town.”

“Well, if you insist. Just please, please try not to put yourself into constant trouble. We aren’t getting younger to look after you.”

“I promise, I won’t. Well, this time, anyways.”

Cecilia ate her breakfast, washed her own dishes, and then began to fold the fresh laundry her sister picked up from their backyard. After she settled the clothes into their respective dressers, Cecilia went out, leaving the two aunts alone in the vicinity.

By then, the two elderly ladies were mending the torn clothes of their nephews, who were workers at a sawmill. 

“Goodness, Risa... When will Pepita ever learn to grow up and be a lady? She can’t keep up like this forever!” Helena complained, pulling the needle up.

“Patience, Helena... Patience. Pepita will learn, I’m sure. Chang is making sure of that but you know, that youngster has her own mind, too. She’ll learn if she’s willing to be schooled. Right now, I think she’s just enjoying the perks of her youth,” Risa calmly said. 

“You are too mellow with Pepita, Risa. She is ought to be disciplined!”

“Then you will just feed fuel to the fire, Helena. Pepita is, well... Liberated, but not in a bad way, if I say so myself. Also, you really shouldn’t worry all that much. That’s not healthy for your health.”

“Hmph! I suppose... All I ever wanted was-”

“I know, I know... But remember, we still have Chang. Besides, it will take a miracle for Pepita to change into the lady we all wanted her to be. She’ll come around. Maybe not today, maybe not next week. But someday.”

While the elderly Castillo ladies tended the house to themselves, Teresa tended the Santiago House.

[ethaneldritch]

THEM CREATURES

[archival-account]

FUJI THE OLYMPUS | a greek mythology/2.5 japanese actors fanfiction; introduction + blurb

INTRODUCTION

This part is long overdue, so I’m doing it some justice right now (since I have time + this is the first story I ever written on Tumblr). 

I think judging by the promised premise of this installment, this is a mash-up of Greek mythology and 2.5 Japanese actors.

“But, Shibiru,” you said. “I don’t know any Japanese actors! And I don’t even know how the story goes! The mechanics, the technicalities, the plot - the trifecta!”

Well, it’s simple really. 

Let’s say we have a Japanese character named “Kina”. Then, I wanted to give her a role, and I think being the goddess of the hunt suits her well. So, instead of Kina, the goddess of the hunt, she will be deemed as “Kina the Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and moon”.

Simple, right? 

Now about the Japanese actors...

“Shibiru, Shibiru!” you said. “I want [name of Japanese actor] in the story! Is that possible!?”

OF COURSE, IT IS~!!!

Just DM me and tell me who is the actor you want me to put in the story.

But keep in mind that I have the ultimate freedom to decide about whether or not they will be officially included in the line-up.

E.G.: If you want [name of Japanese actor] to be Hades instead of the actor or character I want, then it shall be done, but that doesn’t mean it becomes an official canon. I have my own canon in this installment and I am simply offering my writing services to write your desired fanfiction. 

A/N: I’ll have another posts regarding requests rules and rules in general.

BLURB

- under construction - 

[archival-account]

A FUJI THE OLYMPUS TALE | To Enamor the Heartless; Prologue, Part Three

Sayuri looked tensely at the approaching shadow of a man. A raven hood was over his head, hiding most of his face. His apparels were concealed by his cloak. He was but a moving shadow across the lively field of grass. 

But Sayuri, a knowledgeable wood nymph, knew immediately who it was. No wonder why it struck fear into her. 

When the shadow approached her, she stammered in terror, “Lord Zaiki...”

The figure did not answer. Instead, he looked down upon the nymph, as if scrutinizing her under his hood. When he realized this wasn’t Shirune nor Shibiru, he mumbled, “Take me to the garden.”

“Which garden?” The nymph inquired cautiously. For sure, she might be frightened but she had a stout heart. 

“The one Shirue-sama is tending.”

Sayuri shook her head in dismay. She answered, “My Lady isn’t here, my lord. Only her daughter, Shibiru-sama. But, unfortunately, you cannot meet or see her under the order and protection of Shirune-sama and her handmaidens, the nymphs, like me.”

Zaiki became disgruntled. He figured this arrangement would take him a day to complete it. Such a simple request, too much legwork-

“I am not here to see Shirune-sama or her daughter. I am here for the herbs Fuko asked me to retrieve.”

Upon hearing the Tatian’s name, a look of recognition and part relief flickered in Sayuri’s face. She knew who Fuko was; she’s a regular goddess who always came by to ask for herbs Shirune propagated in her gardens. Every now and then, she would pop by and even meet Shibiru, but only on certain occasions. 

“Oh... What kind of herbs would Fuko-sama want?”

“The ones for the burns.”

“Alright,” Sayuri promptly answered. She went back into the garden, Zaiki following her trail. It made her turn back and face the stone-cold god. Gathering courage to speak first, she said, “I would appreciate if you calmly stay back.”

Zaiki didn’t respond to that. Sayuri, figuring that she valued her life more, turned her attention to the plants around her, searching for those herbs. Much to her dismay, she couldn’t spot them anywhere. 

“Sayuri? Are you here?”

A feminine voice broke out into the garden as the nymph and god heard the wooden gate open and close. It was soft but it was loud enough for the two to hear. 

Sayuri’s eyes widened and internally panicked. She wasn’t expecting Shibiru to drop by at this garden! Giving Zaiki a once-over, she reassured herself that he won’t move and would stay in place. After all, what business would he have with her mistress’s daughter when she’s already dealing with him?

Sayuri traversed through the path and she met Shibiru halfway across the corner. She panted, “Shibiru-sama! What brings you here?”

“I am here to tend this garden as well? Why? Is there something that needed to be cleaned with? Pruned with?”

Sayuri shook her head and answered, “Oh, no, not that, Shibiru-sama. It’s just that I am searching for an herb that can treat burns caused by magic.”

“Wait, is Fuko here? Can I see her?” Shibiru excitedly inquired. She side-stepped and almost got past through Sayuri when her caretaker held her wrist. 

She was panicking, but she can’t afford to show that to Shibiru. She quickly said, “She looks like she’s in a hurry, my lady. Can you help me look for those herbs instead.”

Shibiru complied and went to the opposite direction, much to Sayuri’s relief. Peeking through the gaps of the trees and vines, she saw that Zaiki hadn’t left his position. It eased her mind but she hoped Shibiru return soon. Before something else happened beyond her control.

Luckily, Shibiru knew the grounds like at the palm of her hand and she returned carrying all sorts of herbs meant for the burns. She exclaimed, “I got them, I got them!”

The youthful cry made the caretaker look at her in delight. Sayuri thankfully received them and told the bud to look for some plants that needed care since she wasn’t able to do it herself. At first, Shibiru asked if she could see Fuko now, but Sayuri told her the goddess can’t stay and have a small chat. She added that she might be itching to go back home to do whatever she needed to be done in her cauldron. 

Shibiru, though slightly dejected, nodded in understanding and walked off. Sayuri rushed back to Zaiki. Even if she’s glad to know he hadn’t move, he literally didn’t move an inch. It made the nymph suspicious. She cautiously walked over the hooded figure and when she held his cloak, dust was emitted and the whole apparel fell to the ground. 

Gasping, the shocked and bewildered nymph dropped the herbs and frantically looked around. Her heart pounded, the worst coming over to her head. She thought, Had he or had he not seen my mistress’s daughter?!

Unbeknownst to the two occupants in the garden, the Lord of the Dead had heard and seen the flower. He just didn’t want either of them to know. That day, the herbs wilted and Sayuri went home, scared and shock and with fear for her dear life. 

[archival-account]

A FUJI THE OLYMPUS TALE | To Enamor the Heartless; Prologue, Part Two

He knew he shouldn’t be there. He really shouldn’t because he trespassing the protected grounds of Shirune. But what was he supposed to do? Fuko the Hecate can’t come to the grounds herself because she was attending to a mishap that happened in her residence, which was unfortunately a botched spell that nearly seared Shi the Thanatos while he was passing by her home. 

Zaiki had reprimanded her earlier of her shenanigans. Yes, he knew black magic was as dangerous as any weapon existed, but since she’s the goddess of black magic, the balanced is tipped to her favor, thus making the whole ordeal more minacious than it already was. 

Fuko apologized, as she should, but she informed him the damage wasn’t all done. Incidentally, she also singed Suni the Styx. Her arm got a nasty burn and the only way to alleviate it was a plant Shirune had in her garden.

“If ever Shirune wasn’t there,” Fuko said. “You can ask it from her daughter, Shibiru. She tends the gardens her mother left her.”

If Zaiki was surprised Shirune had a child, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grumbled as to why Fuko didn’t have the tonic Suni needed for her burn. 

“I have used it all up on Yoru the last time this happened,” Fuko reasoned, getting impatient. “Now, can you please get some of those herbs? Unless you want Suni to cause tidal rivers waves to your ferryman.”

Fuko was probably one of the very few deities who can get away talking to Zaiki like that. Understandingly, Fuko was a Tatian, an immortal who lived long before the Fujians. And while the recent, superior race of immortals, the Fujians, bore hatred to some Tatians, there were some who respected them and were allowed to live. A handful of them resided in the Underworld and sustained a good relationship with Zaiki. 

“Fine,” Zaiki grumbled. “I’ll go pick up your herbs.”

“The stinky ones worked the best. Colors vary but ask for some of the red and violet. Just tell them what it is for.”

Fuko barely finished her request when Zaiki just suddenly vanished out of the blue. 

“Thank you very much, My Lord,” Fuko said, particularly to no one, then went inside where Suni is cradling her arm. “He’ll be back.”

“Did you tell him about Shibiru?”

“I told him to approach her if Shirune’s not around.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What, why?”

Fuko may not have known it, but her request might have added a small amount of favor to the lonesome Lord of the Dead. On that day, Zaiki hadn’t returned and Fuko had to make do with the tonics she had in store, much to her stressful dismay.