my piece for the universal bonds zine hosted on twitter :) a physical copy was given to ryukishi and this was his response to this piece (translated by ninethprime)
Hi I love your art and I wanted to ask if it would be alright to use them in a rentry? With Credits, of course. 🥹
absolutely no problem! you don’t have to credit either i don’t really mind my art being used in any way. i’d love to see though! (no worries if you don’t plan on sharing however.)
I am sorry to bother, it is just that I am looking everywhere for translations on the MILGRAM anniversary livestreams and I seem to not find them consistently, only finding for the last one. I think I remember seeing some of them being mentioned in your account so I was wondering if you knew about that!
It's fine
You might not have found them on my blog because I wasn't the one who translated them (I suck at understanding/translating audio without subtitles or transcripts)
The translator was Maristelina (and JuriTea but I think they're a twitter user)
First anniversary part 1:
💬 2 🔁 15 ❤️ 90 · MILGRAM 1st Anniversary Stream Translation Part 1 · Translated by @/JuriTea_ and @/CatDraft0307
29 Pages, 7200 words.
🎴
Part 2:
💬 0 🔁 9 ❤️ 44 · MILGRAM 1st Anniversary Stream Translation Part 2 · Translated by @/JuriTea_ and @/CatDraft0307
29 Pages, 7200 words.
🎴 H
Unfortunately the 3rd and 4th anniversaries aren't translated (a mix of uninteresting topics and just. Really Bad audio mixing that makes it hard to understand anyone over the music. Pray for clear speakers this time 🙏)
I know ive gone over this before but i need to bring up again how important i think mikoto's 2021 bday tl convo is for futa's characterization (and mikoto as well but thats not my area of study)
Futa is an extremely awkward person that hides behind his aggressive attitude to avoid showing vulnerability to others and he /just/ had an awful fallout/betrayal from people he considered friends right. Having all that present in my head at all times i cant help but read this conversation as futa's genuine attempt at checking on mikoto because deep down he cares about his peers, hes just extremely afraid of showing that at all to anyone else again
I always find it funny he (according to what theyre saying) purposely approached mikoto, told him off for daring to ask if hed wish him a happy birthday, then instead of walking away or halfassing a congratulation he questioned mikoto's attitude because it was nothing like his usual self. futa had beef with the entirety of milgram at this point! nothing but shouting and insults from this guy! he was the first person to get mikoto to sorta drop the nice guy act to make a demand (the "your attitude is keeping everyone on edge can you shut up" convo), you wouldnt expect him to care about mikoto's mood dropping. but he did! and in his awkwardness he tried to relate to it for some sort of reassurance. and then he ran away being rude and condescending again because he was getting ahead of himself by opening up too (and surprisingly got mikoto to actually open up ever so slightly too?!?!)
I just love this convo so much. Such little details that show so much. Im gonna put him in the air fryer
For anybody looking to catch up on Milgram before the third trial starts, I made a guide of all content up until the end of the second. It also includes some less-known content like translations of the novels, interviews and collabs, so give it a peek if you're interested in side content!
I love the dynamic between them all, thank you for the request! I went with an earlier meeting for them (well, one of the first times Fuuta's aware of speaking with John, at least). As much as I joke about Fuuta being starstruck by his strength in the attack, I tried to take a more serious route for the "something to rely on" vibe.
John’s eyes flicked over Fuuta, sprawled out on his bedding and looking up expectantly.
“Man, you look like shit.”
Fuuta scowled deeper. “I asked for the reason you’re here in the middle of the fucking night, not your opinion.”
“That is the reason I came.”
Somehow, amid all the other things he had to worry about given the horror of the past few days and exile that followed, Mikoto had still found the time to lose sleep over Fuuta’s condition. John had always liked the guy, but he wasn’t in the business of watching over people he didn’t truly care about. He didn’t know what Mikoto saw in him to cause such an overreaction.
Though, with the futon dragged to the bars of the cell, and bathing him in the dim light of the guard’s tower, it was becoming clear that Mikoto’s concern was indeed warranted. Fuuta appeared deathly. The fresh injuries had been bandaged, but there were stains where blood was beginning to seep through. His eye – the one that had survived the ordeal – was bloodshot and rimmed with dark bags. His hair was as tangled as the rumpled hoodie it poked out of.
Fuuta was still staring in anticipation. It took John a moment to understand why.
“You recognize me.”
“No shit. Mikoto came in here like a fumbling idiot earlier today. He wanted to make sure I was okay or whatever. Like I’d be okay after what happened!” He paused, a clanging from someone else’s cell briefly distracting him. “But you… the way you carry yourself… it’s different.”
“Not that different. I’m here for the same reason.”
The plan was simple. Once Fuuta slept, Mikoto would relax, and everyone would be happy. If it turned out to be his injuries keeping him awake, John didn’t mind crushing Fuuta’s pride and explaining his weakness to the doctor to get more painkillers. If it was noisy neighbors, he’d teach one of those girls a lesson the following day. If the problem was just plain insomnia, well, John’s swinging arm was still completely functional...
“I just want to make sure you’re sleeping.”
“Don’t tell me you’re as disgustingly sentimental as him.”
John’s expression twitched. He didn’t appreciate the condescension. That was Mikoto’s most admirable trait, after all – offering help to others even when he was falling apart himself. He was so selfless, so self-sacrificial. It was no wonder John felt compelled to do the same for him. But Fuuta…
“Ugh, he’s always trying to be buddy-buddy with everyone around here, it makes me sick. Nice words don’t do shit. Look where his friendship with Kotoko got him, eh? That’s what these fools still don’t understand – you need to face these things head-on.”
“Oi, don’t be hard on me just for caring.” He didn’t say it as any sort of gentle encouragement; it was a command, and Fuuta understood. He snapped his attention away from where he’d been peering around the bars. “The world needs more people with that kindness. That optimistic view of life, of others, no matter what – it’s why I’ll do everything I can to save me.”
Silence stretched after the intense comment. Fuuta was looking away again, and John couldn’t read him When he did speak, his voice came out more defeated than expected.
“Tch. Well. Not all of us have that luxury.”
“Of what?”
“Of you.”
His eyebrows raised.
Cheeks reddening, Fuuta hurried to add, “I mean someone to have your back like that. I wish I could be half as relaxed as that, but I can’t afford to let my guard down. I need to be strong myself, I don’t have anyone else to take care of my problems for me.”
It hit him suddenly, that everything came down to that. Relief washed over him, now that a clear, easy, (and nonviolent) solution had presented itself.
“What if you did? I could take over your little sentry duty for the night.”
“W-what do you –?”
He gestured to where Fuuta was laying. “No need to play dumb. You’ve been keeping an eye on everything, even the other side of the guard’s tower. The sounds from around cell eight have caught your attention. You’re positioned so you can see cell six, but haven’t moved all the way over, because cell ten has easiest access from the right.”
“Tch. The others would say it’s pointless, or that they’re handling it. I’m not buying it, though. I don’t care if they it’s crazy of me. To do”
“I think…” John’s posture softened. “I think it’s very selfless of you.”
He was constantly amazed at Fuuta’s tendency to react to everything as if it were some world-shattering statement just told to him.
“So?” He prodded before Fuuta’s expression could grow any more wide-eyed. “How about it?”
“I mean… they told me about the attacks… what you did…”
John set his jaw. No matter how many times it had happened in the past few days, it still stung to see how quickly people turned against him because of the fight. He thought they all had come to terms with each other’s capabilities for violence, but as usual, the moment he showed his true face, the world turned against him.
Of course Fuuta could never relax knowing such a violent and unpredictable person was sitting right beside him through the night. It was a miracle he hadn’t panicked immediately at the sight of yet another cold, towering figure appearing at his door in the middle of the night.
John stretched his right arm across his chest. It looked like his original solution still stood. Fuuta said problems should be faced head-on. Surely he’d understand this was for his own good.
“…Yeah, okay.” Fuuta gave a decisive nod. He beckoned with a jerk of his head. “I trust you.”
“I –” John blinked. “What?”
“You understand me. You understand what it takes to be in a place like this.” His gaze flit away momentarily. “You’re incredibly strong. You’re prepared, and have good instincts, and your confidence is –" Noticing how intently John was listening, he interrupted himself to bark, “but don’t think I couldn’t handle this on my own! It’s only because you offered, and it’s a smart move. I’ll just sleep for a bit, we can take shifts. Wake me in three hours, okay?”
“Fine by me.” A little lying was definitely better than what else he’d had in mind.
Fuuta moved his futon over a few feet so John could settle into his carefully chosen spot on the ground. Everything was all set to begin keeping watch, until a new sound rose up to drown out the other noises in the panopticon – soft snoring from beside him.
He glanced over in disbelief at the instantaneous security Fuuta had sunk into. All the tension had melted away from his face and shoulders. He lay completely at peace.
John had achieved his goal. He should be celebrating. Instead, he couldn’t help heaving a heavy sigh.
How did he end up with two self-destructive idiots to watch over?
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