雨を描く

See how everything's enjoyable? I play this one time melody to wipe away tears. Don’t go pretending you are someone stronger than you really are. Just be true and loyal to your feelings inside.

[arcadekimchi-deactivated2018063]

[usagirinako]

Welcome to midterms at Kazoku University.

[takaramonos]

[musicmyart]

[thefromans-blog]

[usagirinako]

Visit Original Link

[k-on1279]

[k-on1279]

[ninihoneykawaiiworld]

[nozomitojoremade234565432-blog]

[akiracyanide]

Memories on the Metro

[akiracyanide]

Akira panics for a moment when his hand is placed in a much smaller one, a palm so soft and warm that it’s nothing but foreign to his naturally cold self. It throws him off, it’s odd, weird…just like he is. Just like me. Nobody touches him, ever. Nobody dares come near, more so down on the streets, in the underground where the ‘thugs’ reign and the kids like him are nothing but constant fresh meat to fuck with…but here on the surface of things, the world as a whole just seems so much more innocent…especially in the face of this young blue-eyed girl. 

He twitches all the while, however, unable to help it a bit when he’s being slightly tugged. He can’t comprehend why he cannot at least try to control it— sure, he knows it is a result of his lacking mental faculties, but he should be able to help it, anyway. One more reason for him to feel disappointed in who…what he is. His mind in these rare instances is as sharp as it is confused, and it takes very little for Akira to process the information given to him. Platform nine. Five minutes. Yes. 

NO. DON’T DO IT. Don’t go with her; you’ll die…she’ll murder you, hang you from the handrails on the train, toss you on the tracks when you reach Kazoku…~ You won’t make it home.

Shaking his head furiously, twitching yet again in his own silence, Akira closes his eyes tightly. The thoughts, the voices, they hurt. It’s all too much, far too much to deal with all the time, and he even feels short of breath trying to combat it. So he doesn’t, and merely listens to the chants echoing in a sickening cacophony in his ears and chest, merely allowing himself to blindly be led by that small, warm hand, the only thing holding him to reality in the moment.

[usagirinako]

Rinako steels herself against the chaos of the train platform, trying to give this man whom she has decided to help her full attention for a moment. She closes her eyes, breathes deeply, and tunes out the noise of the people moving around them, the sounds of the vendors yelling out "Hot cocoa! Hot cocoa and coffee, three hundred and fifty yen a cup!" and other phrases, trying to sell their wares to the harried train-goers.

She imagines herself an un-moving rock in the middle of a rushing river. After a moment or so she is calm and thinking clearly again, and she remembers to consider the man's feelings as well. That's why she leads him towards the wall, where the foot traffic is less concentrated and it won't be so hard to slip through. She looks back to see he has his eyes shut tight, so she takes her time and leads him around all of them. She weaves through the crowd, spotting her path before she makes her move. Knowing she only has five minutes, her actions are done with purpose, and she gets them on their platform with a minute to spare until the train arrives. 

"Sir? We're here." She finds her voice less shaky now, and she's so happy that she could cry. She also doesn't have to yell now, which fills her with relief. "The train is going to arrive soon." She looks at him carefully, taking in the way his hand still clings to hers and how his face seems to be strained. "S-Sir? ...Are you alright?"

She feels concern now, tuning out the other people on the platform, though there don't seem to be many. She knows she looks like a young teenager, maybe fourteen, and he looks to be in his late twenties. She rolls her eyes in a moment of irritation at her own stature. People would assume things about the both of them, and at the moment, frankly, she didn't care. Coughing for a moment at the smell of smoke and exhaust that came from the train that was now roaring slowly into its station, she watched him to see if he was alright. He seemed to be in some sort of pain. And that, of course, immediately made her want to help.

[yumekaze]

[blackside-r]

[char-portraits]

[sweetsharings]

[usagirinako]

Hearts Sinking

[searchingforasteadyself-blog]

He was entirely professional when administering the disinfectant, almost to a degree that made him appear as clinical as the sharp scent of the hydrogen peroxide itself as he dabbed it on her skin. Almostbeing the crucial word, for as he cleaned the wound and was just about to dispose of the red-tinged cotton and reach for a band-aid, he paused at his patient’s words. A musician, was she…?

"It’s old, I know, but I hope you like it, Kabuto-kun. I play from time to time—I could give you lessons, if you like. Don’t look so bashful, it’s no trouble…"

Caught off his guard by the sudden flash of memory, of the smiling face of a young woman and a small used piano with yellowed keys, Kabuto cleared his throat and jerked back to reality. “I play the piano a little as well," he said without looking at Rinako or adding that he played it mechanically, only ever producing a cheap and robotic imitation of the rich sounds that the woman had made flow from the ancient instrument. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to play again soon. A few days without diligent practice won’t be of much harm."

He was disoriented now. Hoping his supervisor wouldn’t catch it, Kabuto bandaged her hand carefully and then rose to stand, bowing his head. The compliment went in one ear, and his brain filtered out the sentiment behind it and sent it out the other, leaving behind only the knowledge that her assessment would serve him well in advancing at the hospital. “Don’t mention it, Usagi-san. Take care, now."

[usagirinako]

"Uh, is that so?" She said a little shakily, watching the intern with rapt attention as he worked on the wound that now didn't look so scary. He was very attentive to the details and seemed to finish quite quickly. The new bandaging job was less bulky and messy than her sloppy job, and it wasn't as uncomfortable as she had originally expected it to be. But then, of course it wasn't. It was a band-aid.

What the intern didn't know was that her father and mother both believed in practicing rigidly, every day, for an hour and a half. They'd both be upset that she wouldn't be able to and would probably make her make up for it later. But that was alright as well. Rinako would welcome the time to relax and do as she pleased for once. Kami knows that she never had enough time for that.

As he rose, she stirred in her seat, pushing forward so that her little feet nearly touched the floor, planting her clunky rain boots on the pristine floor with a bit of a blush. She has hated wearing the shoes inside and messing up their floors, but it couldn't be helped. She rose and bowed after he did, long hair falling over her shoulders as she also said the proper thank you.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Yakushi-san."

[usagirinako]

Headcanon Wednesday! --

[usagirinako]

Hearts Sinking

[searchingforasteadyself-blog]

Once he saw a few final traces of scarlet blood washing down the drain, Kabuto nodded to her as he reached to turn the water off. “There, that’s enough. Do sit down, let me take care of it.” As the cotton absorbed the hydrogen peroxide, Kabuto had to keep from grimacing yet again. Wonderful, she had a low threshold for pain. He wasn’t necessarily annoyed, but that didn’t mean he had to be pleased about administering medical aid to tearful young women. His comfort level in regards to the whole thing was quite low—though her fretting did make him smile a little in spite of himself.

“Ah—” He repressed an instinctive chuckle by passing it off as a small cough. No snickering at the patients. “No, Usagi-san, everything should be in order within a few days. Good as new. Of course, I wouldn’t remove the bandages until you can be certain the laceration won’t open up again.” Kabuto was taking liberties again, albeit subtle and harmless ones, and he knew it, but the doctor wasn’t commenting. “Though I have to wonder why you’re so worried. Is there anything in particular you need this hand for with great urgency?” he asked.

“And furthermore,” Kabuto went on, before she could answer, as he sat down near the exam table, “I would consider a bit of a dietary alteration over the next few days at least, if you’re concerned about blood loss. Beans, red meat, et cetera.”

[usagirinako]

She followed his orders and took a seat, letting him administer the hydrogen peroxide with a small pout. If it was just that, she could have done it at home. She wouldn't have had to deal with a hospital, then. But here she was, so she'd have to deal with it. She brushed her long hair over her shoulder with her hand, watching as he expertly did his job. He didn't act like some of the fumbling interns she'd met before. She nodded, relieved to hear that she'd be fine in a few days. Not that her parents would care. She wouldn't be able to practice between now and then.

"I'm a musician. I play the violin and the piano... If my hand doesn't work properly, I can't play." She gave the shortest response possible, waiting till he finished speaking. Most people wouldn't associate her last name with the town's famous classical musicians unless they listened to that sort of music. "I'll... do that. Father will be glad to hear it, actually. We don't normally eat such hearty foods and I think he misses it."

She waited a moment, glancing at the doctor waiting impassively in the corner, eyes watching both of them. "Um... Ano, thank you, Kabuto-san. You're um, really good at this. It's like you were a real doctor. You seem very erm, professional."