#informant

EmTea! Good to see you, kid. Home's been swell, mostly. Quiet more than anything, and quiet's no good for me.

Pride 2026 – “June of fluffy Feverwhump”

Holding hands

“Don’t apologise…”

He would fix it, he would fix everything. All he needed to do was bring Kosuke out of there, even if the path behind them had collapsed, shutting the way down. The roof of the ancient building had given up long ago and allowed them to see patches of blue sky above; Kei was far from being the best climber in the area, but would be able to do it with perseverance.

“I’ll get you out of here.”

“You don’t look too good yourself, Hiwatari-san.”

He didn’t want to hear that from someone who had to rest on his back while pain perspired on his entire body, yet futilely tried to conceal it under a weak reassuring smile. Kosuke’s chest even struggled to let air in, fighting against broken ribs: a fool could have seen that the situation was critical, a demon would not have had the heart to abandon him there.

“Give me some time…” Kei responded.

However, darkness immediately overwhelmed his struggling mind and the words resonated, useless, haunting, as he sank. Unable to get a hold of the situation, he floated in half-consciousness for an undetermined period of time.

                                       He would fix it.

                  He would never let Kosuke die. Nev    e  r  .

When Kei’s eyes opened again, pressure crushed him down in the surrounding stillness. Even if the shoulder that supported him had stopped hurting, an underlying, subtle sensation of discomfort came and went through his heavy, unmovable limbs. He tried to bend his fingers and realised Kosuke held them – the man’s eyes shot open when he felt the movement.

“You’re awake…”

They shared the pain, unable to get up, an unfortunate matching pair of wounded puppets. Dust and dirt turned Kosuke’s face grey in several spots Kei didn’t have the strength to reach at and clean; he attempted to raise his hand, but his arm refused to obey, didn’t even manage to contract the muscles…

He knew his body and its resilient ability to mend itself: given enough time to rest, the artwork always lived, the living body always healed; he was basically immortal thanks to the perfect, symbiotic balance of Elm Root and the flesh that contained it. The actual question in this situation was whether Kosuke could afford to wait this long…

“I’ll get you out of here,” he reassured. There was always a way out, and their abilities combined c…

His head started spinning, forcing him to shut his eyes again.

Kosuke’s thumb caressed his hand, slow, soothing, and he allowed the pleasant sensation to spread up his arm, chase the soreness away. When he looked at him again, the man grinned, worry permeating his features.

In a ridiculous truth Kei felt stupid even thinking about, their hands fit each other perfectly: he loved Kosuke’s firmness, his steady gestures that only a distracted mind that thought about a million things per minute turned clumsy, he loved when they grew timid, uncertain, hesitant, and relaxed only when Kei became the one in charge. He adored their scars, the new marks gathered every day from his research, whether from ink or brushing against so much paper.

He loved that he could hold them, and that they held him back with equal intensity, that they understood him so well despite not knowing who – what he was. That he could be there, resting on the floor without a solution, and that they said this was fine, he understood, they were together. If Kei decided to save himself, Kosuke would always forgive, would gently squeeze his fingers before being left behind, which was beautifully terrifying.

          “I’ll get you out of here…”

                 He would find a way. They would find a way.

If only his body agreed to respond… After many months of soothing indulgence with this man, if he truly loved him and wanted him to safely escape from this place, Kei really couldn’t afford to be weak… Just a few minutes and strength would return to his body. It had to.

Pride 2026 – “June of fluffy Feverwhump”

“I’m not joking, it’s locked.”

The crate’s cover hit his back and he fell down to his knees in obscurity. Ow…!

“Are you okay, Hiwatari-san?!”

On all fours, breathless, Kei let the pain pass. He apparently hadn’t crushed any piece of Kosuke under him… Speaking of which, a hand blindly reached his side, checked his situation, retreated, leaving him cold where it had touched.

“There’s no way this shut on its own…”

Pride 2026 – “June of fluffy Feverwhump”

“Sorry, I might’ve stained your carpet.”

“Hiwatari-san? Good evening, I… I was wondering if you were at home, tonight. Do you… happen to have some free time?”

Kei freezes upon recognising the hesitant voice that, even if he can put a name to it, remains far from sounding familiar. The piece of chocolate he has tossed in his mouth when he heard the interphone ringing slowly melts on his tongue as he thinks about a proper response.

Niwa Kosuke would not come over for a surprise visit unless he had an excellent, urgent reason. Never has that reserved man overstepped Kei’s careful boundaries before…

“What a surprise,” he responds prudently. “Do you happen to be alone, tonight?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation in the other man’s voice, which grants him access: there is one Niwa Kei will ever tolerate in his sanctuary, mostly because the man only married into that family in the first place. Pensively chewing on his dessert, Kei presses the button that opens the complex’s front door. If Niwa Kosuke lied and is actually coming in with a relative, how will he threaten them out politely?

But no, Kosuke wouldn’t do that, as it would immediately destroy the strange, fragile balance they have been slowly building, out of mutual interest and quiet dissuasion. Even if striking a Niwa in the face with his umbrella would have been unexpected entertainment for the evening. Instead, he promptly returns to the kitchen to dispose of the remains of his dinner before opening the door to his uninvited guest.

The unsure tone in the man’s voice over the interphone makes perfect sense the minute Kei’s eyes fell on him: words did not break out of shyness but because, despite the hand secured over it, an injured hip stains his clothes with blood to the point of saturation. In a swift gesture, Niwa Kosuke is dragged inside, the door securely shut behind him – Kei will deal with the trail of droplets he has left in the stairs behind him later, hoping no neighbour will come and follow the lead to his apartment…

(Has Niwa Kosuke really climbed stairs with an injured hip…?)

“Your place was the closest,” Niwa smiles, his face pale and apologetic. “Do you happen to have…?”

Of course he happens to have, as much as he has to save the floor of his entrance. Asking a few unanswered questions about what (criminal) activity could have possibly ended with this specific outcome, Kei brings him to the couch, fetches the medicine chest, washes his hands, distracts him from the pain and the living room as much as he can.

Even if his private space is invaded, he will have the pleasure of putting the other man in debt.

(another politicised post for the sake of clarity, humanity, and public pedagogy)

Was it interesting? More information, more interruption? Probably not. But it filled the air with something other than persecution, and this at least was a relief.... was a relief at least.

🧭 How the two differ

Stool pigeon — an informer, someone who betrays others to authorities.

Stooge — a dupe or tool, someone being used by others, often without real power.

There can be overlap: a stool pigeon might also be a stooge if they’re being used by the police or another group, maybe an insurer privately delivering hospital treatment to NHS resources. But the words are generally not synonyms.

Herbal Tea Event

“Niwa-san, have you ever considered that the issue lies elsewhere? That some individuals do not mind the  p r i v a c y   itself, but the view and perception others could have, may their personal life be unveiled? That, in the life of a man, the most dangerous enemy is not what lies within, but how drastically an existence could suffer, had anyone else access to it? I do understand how that can sound ironical in our situation in particular, however…”

This afternoon couldn’t have been better, as the gentle sunlight of spring caressed their skin, far from the blazing summer beast that awaited them, a brief moment of respite in the unbridled course of time. Niwa Kosuke hadn’t touched his tea yet, and had no idea what he was missing.

Everything felt pleasant,

                                                  promising,

                                                                        impartial, even a discussion that Kei still, deep down, knew would lead to nothing, no progress, no agreement, no solution to help their sons as    u  s   u   a   l   …

“Are you familiar with the philosopher who once wrote that ‘Man is a wolf to man’? It would be simple to agree, and deduce that humans are destined to curse and hate each other, yet it would neglect to consider another fact: that ‘a king without diversion is a very wretched man’.”

He shut his eyes, taking another sip from his cup (who could have guessed that talking so much did make one’s mouth dry…?) Around them, despite the calm and remote little square they had picked, a few passersby walked without any care in the world. Their voices failed to break the peaceful atmosphere, instead melting harmoniously with the familiar chirping of urban birds.

WASHINGTON — The Southern Poverty Law Center told a federal court on Tuesday that law enforcement agencies have long known that the nonprofit paid informants to report on the movements of hate groups, rejecting assertions by the Trump administration that the nonprofit steered money to the Ku Klux Klan and other extremist groups without the knowledge of authorities. The Alabama-based nonprofit was…