#its 5 am...but its...yesterday somewhere.

So for the third time, you're being ditched beside the fountain you agreed he insisted as a meetup place after school to drive to his house.

You didn't want to bring him home because Tatum's just gonna suck his balls off the moment he steps inside the house and it's gonna be on you if he flunks, then you'll fail the class and you're going to be stuck in this small town working on some diner.

And you also didn't wanna spend a dime for a drink that costs a leg and an arm just to sit in a cafe.

You sigh and sit on the edge of the fountain, tiny bits of water sprinkle on your bag.

5 minutes.

You'll wait 5 more and leave if he doesn't show up anytime soon.

He didn't.

You already grabbed your bike and headed for the street, you can never be too careful, so you strapped your helmet to your head and pedaled away.

As you slowed down to a stop behind another car, a honk startles you from the side.

"Tatum junior!"

Oh and what do we have here.

Stuart Macher.

Your eye twitches, he gives you a lanky wave in his convertible that's blaring music like there's no yesterday.

"Hop on in, Teach!"

You blink at him a few times, he's got to be kidding you—

Your bike sits uncomfortablely in the backseat, strapped in poorly with seatbelts and extension cables.

Everytime you pass a hump, your bike tries to lurch out of its confines.

You fiddle with your fingers in the passenger seat, opting to focus on the passing houses than your fellow passenger.

"So, hows you doing?"

You roll your eyes. "Look, I don't wanna fail this class okay? So if you're gonna be a dick and miss our sessions, don't. He's gonna fail me if I fall short and flop you and I'm not gonna be able to move up okay, get it? I'm gonna repeat a stupid grade and we only have I dont know before his long test and if you're not gonna pass that, I'm actually gonna disappear from the surface of earth and no one's gonna see me again because I'm gonna be lying in— in a ditch somewhere—"

"Woah woah woah! Hey—" Stu has his eyes furrowed and his eyes wide as saucers, debating on looking at the road or looking at you.

"Chill out, little tates!" He raises a hand at you as if that was gonna help you calm down. "My bad alright? My bad. I missed a session once—"

"Twice, and almost thrice If you didn't come today,"

"Buut, I did okay? You're sitting in my car ain't ya?"

"And that's so not coincidental am I right? That you just— what, happen drive by beside me, just in time that I left from the fountain where we were supposed to be meeting at?" You huff.

"I'm sure you we're on your way in whatever after school beer time you were supposed to be in then you saw me right in front of you and you didn't wanna be caught lacking so why not invite me in the guise of tutoring you so I would think you actually wanted to study."

You lifted an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. He glances at you, a glint passes by his eyes but he wore a big smile on his face, then he snorts and ruffles your hair.

"Oh, tiny Riley! You got me there," you try to swat his hands away but he snatches it faster as he clutched his chest, pretending to be hurt.

"Aight, the thing is, I'm here aren't I? Big Stu is here!" He yells out the car, thumping his chest like a gorilla, laughing as he went back down.

"So, whats on our itinerary, teach?"

"Aside from introduction to accounting and analyzing business transactions which we should've covered during the last sessions," you grit your teeth and glare at him. "We now have a very easy basic accounting equations on our shoulders,"

"Oh, I think that's an easy peasy right, tate junior? We've basically got all the time in the world."

" 'All the time in the word' my butt," you grumble, crossing your arms and turning your back against him, looking about the houses once again.

A few trees passes by and Stu's mansion of a house comes into view. Stu parks like he doesn't have license, rattling your bike behind you.

"Up n up, baby Riley," you slung your bag and opened the door, you push it close as you stare at your bike, somehow Stu caught on immediately and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Nothings gonna happen to your bike, tiny tate, we're out in the middle of nowhere, no one comes out here," he wiggles his eyebrows, "Except when there's a partaaaay!"

You mock his face as he turns around, hands in the air, you make your hand chatter.

He jogs ahead of you in lazy confidence, expecting you at his heels, you sigh your eyes for the nth time and stomped behind him.

He shuts the door behind him, letting you absorbed the house first.

"Check it out, got myself a little stray!" You frown and snap your head to him, who's he shouting out and about.

He struts ahead of you, checking the living room and the stairs, then he howls like a maniac startling you.

Is this what Tatum endures everyday?

You cannot fathom how he is with his girlfriend if this is how he is with strangers.

Then he boyishly sashays to where you are, hands in pockets.

"Scared ya? Pardon thee," he bows dramatically.

"You mean thy?"

"Anyways— C'mon, teach, lotsa room around, where do you wanna start?"

You tilt your head, is he expecting you to lead with the venue which is HIS house?

"Oh, um, ok," you awkwardly shuffled and approached what you assumed was the living room.

"So," he starts, hands still in pockets, he stands at the foot of the table as you kneeled down and began pulling out notes and books, "Why accounting?"

"What kinda question is that?"

"What do yew mean? It's an icebreaker, zuh," he playfully rolls his eyes and waves you off.

A beat goes and no one says anything.

Finally, you clear your throat and pat the floor beside you, you can see him visibly pause and tilt his head at you.

"We need to start? Like asap please?" You raise your eyebrows, his mouth makes an o before he bounces and lands beside you.

You flip through the table of contents, you sigh, landing on the first page of intro to accounting.

"Okay... What do we have here." you mumble, "You know Luca?"

"The racer? Why?"

You grind you teeth and shot him the best are you serious face.

After a few seconds you sigh in defeat.

"Luca Pacioli,"

"Sounds Italian," he wiggles his eyebrows.

You might as well stab yourself, but no, you inhale, 123.

"It's okay, Luca Pacioli was—"

"Pfftt, gosh I know who Paciole is, everyone and their mom does, I'm just messing with you, you douche," you stare ahead at the wall, gripping your pencil, you stutter in irritation as you finally spoke up.

"O-okay.. I'll assume you must know the branches of accounting right?"

You asked, not sparing him a glance, you check off Luca Paciole out of the list oh father of accounting.

"Yuh-huh, okay— can we actually pause. All these notebooks are giving me the heebie jeebies," he shudders, "When's your sister finishing her prac?"

"7:00. Give me the branches of accounting and their uses,"

"C'moooon, gimme a break, baby tatum puhlease," you give him a pointed look.

"I don't really get why there's 5 fucking ways to say money problems, it's all numbers and stress and making people feel important," he playfully waves his hands around, his head dramatically falling unto the sofa behind the both of you. "Like, one is watching other peoples money, one's figuring out why everything costs so much, one is taxes, which is basically robbery in plain sight! And the rest is just peoole double checking on each other so no one gets yelled at. Ugh this is making me dizzy, I'm gonna skedaddle."

"That's.."

He sighs and abruptly stands up, headed for the kitchen, "You need anything? Water, beer, Apple juice?"

"Yeah.That makes sense." You nod, skimming over the book, his head whips out of the refrigerator. "That's pretty much financial, management, cost, tax, and auditing."

Okay, you actually think you can get through this in a breeze. You felt like the rocks on your shoulders being lifted up.

"Now can you tell me what ALCIE stands for?" You asked, flipping a page.

📞🩸🔪

You yawn as you check your watch.

9:00 pm

You have a 10 pm curfew because apparently no one cares that the age gap between you and Tatum was close with each other so they treat you like your 10.

You glance at scooby doo beside you, his head rested on the coffee table, turned away from you and snoring.

You suppose it was you reading, droning on and on and on, but thank goodness, at least he fell asleep during an unimportant part.

You rub your eyes, it was about time you fix up and go home.

But you needed to pee so bad, all the juice you drank went straight down. You groan and stood up, choosing not to wake him up, you stood at the center of the hallway and looking around for any signs of bathroom.

Then you heard keys jingling at the front door.

You didn't even realize Stu was awake till you heard the clanking of your bag behind you, he pulls you with him up the stairs in the hurry.

"Stu what—"

"No time, hurry up," you shut your mouth when you saw his worried face. He didn't speak till you arrived in what you assume was his room. He nudges you in first before locking the door behind him.

"Coming in a minute, mom!"

"Your parents are here?"

"Yeah. Fuck," the last word was supposed to be mumbled, his eyes snap to yours, "Don't tell Tatum,"

You lift an eyebrow, a puzzled look on your face.

"What?" He says, albiet almost defensively but still having that playful tone of his. "I'm not a kid idiot,"

"Really? Won't your ears burst if I curse in front of ya?"

You roll your eyes.

"Why'd you bring me up here anyway?"

"Yeahhhh, about that," he scratches his head. "So basically, parents = tutor, is a big no-no."

"What?"

"They can't, CAN'T know I have me a tutor, they're gonna hang me by the balls!" He whisper-shouts, holding his hands around his neck trying to emphasize the gravity of the situation.

He slowly brings his hands together in front of you. When you don't answer, he starts to kneel and shake his hands.

"Please, mademoiselle."

"Urgh, alright alright just— fricking stand up please,"

A wide grin graces his face as he slowly ascends from his position, he towers over you in a slow motion kinda way.

"Fricking? You're such a kid, tate junior,"

You roll your eyes.

"What am I supposed to do now?" You glance around his room, okay, typical teenage hormonal boy room.

"Hmmm," he makes a thinking face, then puts his hand below his chin, scratching it. "You can climb down the window."

"Absolutely not!" You gasp.

"Well why not!"

"I could die!" you gesture to yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna die!"

"Stuart!"

"Stu, sweets,"

"I can't climb down a window!"

"Look— believe me—"

"I'm not gonna believe you!"

"SHHH," he covers your mouth abruptly.

"Stu? Is there someone with you?" You hear his mom from downstairs.

"I'm on the phone, mom!" You can feel him deflate when he hears no reply from his mom.

"Junior, look at me, hey," your eyes sting as you glance at the window. This was not how your day was supposed to end. "Why can't you just tell your parents that I'm like- someone not like-"

You exhale, trying to fan yourself. "Hey- look at me, junior," Stu holds your head in between his huge hands, he squats in front of you as he momentarily shakes your focus on him.

"Listen to me. I've went down my window before and trust me when I say this, you're not gonna die, sweet cheeks. It's just like a little jump in the pool but no pool just jump— hey, it's okay,"

You rub your forehead and then your eyes.

"Stu, we're on the second floor of your house, how is this a jump in the pool. I'm gonna die if I jump out that window."

You huff and puff out carbon dioxide rapidly, the plants can thank you for that.

"Don't you have a ladder somewhere—"

"Wait. Stay here. DO NOT make a noise."

"Stu—"

"Shosh." He quickly exits his room, leaving you and yourself.

You glance around for your bag, you see it hapazardly discarded on the floor, but everything inside is complete, you completely zip it close and strapped it to yourself.

"C'mon, where are you, Stu." you whisper, walking around his room trying to calm yourself.

A beat goes and you hear pebbles tapping on the window, you glanced down and see Stu, he waves with his whole body as you slide it open.

"C'mon! I'll catch you!" He whisper-shouts.

Your eyes widen.

"We're both gonna die!"

"Hurry! Or you'll be seeing my corpse on that fence!"

You bite your lip, your mind trying to scramble for other possible solutions.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Perfectly!"

You back up the window, worse comes to worst, you'll break an ankle or an arm.

"1!" You hear him whisper-shout.

"2!"

"3!"

You hop on the ledge and jump, closing your eyes and hoping for everything but death.

You hit Stu hard, as in he almost falls to the ground hard, or at least that's what it felt like to you. You felt an arm circle around your torso and and the other beneath your legs, your arms automatically clutched around his neck.

Your eyes are still shut tight, arms still hugging his head in a headlock.

"J-junior- you can- let go- now-" your eyes snap open, you look around and breathe a huge sigh of relief when you see the ground, your arms loosen around Stu as you huff and puff in joy.

"Told gya, I'd catch you. Big Stu in the house!" You almost laughed if not for the fact he almost killed you.

You jumped down from his arms and dusted your clothes, you catch him already looking at you, raising an eyebrow you held you chin and stared at him, his smile grows wider.

"Thank you, Stu," You bite the inside of your cheeks.

He frowns, tilting his head as his hands cover his ears tryna hear you. "Huh? Wha? What did you say?"

"Thank you, you douchebag!" you yell.

"Hey— shush. your. mouth!"

You look behind you, Stu's parents' both on a call, you look back to Stu who was approaching his convertible.

You jog quietly after him. He opens the backseat door and begins untangling your bike.

"Shit. Damnit." He mumbles, pulling on the extension cords.

"I'd offer to drive you, junior- but the motherlode is back at the spaceship." He says, not paying you a glance, too busy with pulling and untangling.

"Come on, come on," he whispers, tugging on the ropes.

You check your watch again.

9:20 pm

"Shoot. My curfew's at 10, Stu!" You whisper.

"What? What time is it?"

"9:27!"

"That's like a long way to go, there's still time,"

"Uhh, your house is like seperated from any living civilization?! They're all gonna kill me if I come home late!"

"You have a bike, kid. Bike it?"

"Ughhhhh!" You knash your teeth together, crossing your arms. "Your house is so fricking far from anywhere!"

You groan and help Stu free your bike, the faster you finish the faster you get home.

You swear you could feel your heart beating out of your ribcage.

Finally, you managed to pull the bike out after a much needed cardio.

You fastened the helmet to your head and threw your bag in the basket, without another glance you hop on your bike.

"Thank you for tonight, douchebag,"

"Oh— Come on, junior," he shakes his head.

You clicked the stopper away and pedaled because your life depended on it.

📞🩸🔪

"Why aren't you freaking out?!"

You roll your eyes, taping another poster on the bulletin.

"What is there to worry about, Ruby?" You huff, climbing down the ladder. You grin at your masterpiece, the board filled with the event poster, now no one will miss it if its as big as this.

"Besides, you're freaking out enough for the both of us." You laugh. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"You're not helping," she groans. "It's been days since we put these posters up, and ever since, it's either been ripped down or used as toilet paper."

"I'll find a way—"

"Boogah!" You shriek and turn around.

Stu stands in a crouched dracula position, his hands curls in front of him and you, his left leg lifted up.

"Idiot!" You whisper, eyes darting around as people gave you a weird glance.

Ruby behind you was long gone, not wanting to bear the second hand embarrassment.

"You coming to buff Stu's party yeah?"

You snort and move unto another board. "No."

"Your sister's coming though!"

"Unlike her, I have this coming," you lift up the poster to his face, he snatches it from your hands.

"Now what do we have here," his eyebrow lifts up.

"Car wash?" He laughs, like maniacally laughs, you jump as he claps his hand as he snorts. People passing by not paying him any attention except for the occasional glance.

"Fundraising for the school's maintenance support."

"Pfft, the school's maintenance?" He slaps his thigh, laughing yet again.

"Piss off if you're not going to help."

"Alright, alright. I'm ouuut," he salutes you, turning his back to you cartoonishly and skips across the hallway.

📞🩸🔪

"Okay, alright, your sister's calling us, see ya tomorrow!"

"Bye, dont break a leg, Ruby." You hear her laugh before hanging up. You park your bike outside the corner store, clicking the stand on, you don't bother taking your helmet off because it's an in and out mission.

The bell of the doors ring open as you enter, the smell of days old cigarette swirls around the air.

Right.

In and out.

You grab a pack of beer and a juice box for yourself. Setting then down the cashier, she makes it quick as you give a perfect amount.

She recites the usual grocery conversation and you leave.

Finally, you cough a bit when you exit the store, bad ventilation.

A meow catches your attention, a cat loafs just beside the store's entrance.

You smile and approached slowly. "Hello."

It blinks and yawns as your hand hovers near its nose. Without any rejection from him, you pet his head, then slowly scratch his chin up to his side belly.

"Aren't you a little too small to be a guard dog?" You laugh when he meows back.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything on me right now."

A noise from the alley behind you, just beside the store surprises the both of you, the cat quickly scurries away to wherever pocket hide out he has.

The noise sounded like a trashcan getting trashed, but then you hear someone cursing and squeaks of shoes then another punch.

After a beat, you see two people leave the alley in a hurry, their noses bloodied and bruised.

"Fuck 'im. I'm gonna get him next time."

The first one bumps your shoulder in a hurry.

The second guy narrowly avoids you but curses you anyway for blocking the path.

You frown as you watch their backs disappear from your line of sight. Your head snaps back to the alley you don't see when you hear a kick of the garbage bin and a thus of the wall.

"Rule number one: Don't check the noise."

Or whatever Randy says when he picks Tatum up at home.

A groan catches your focus.

Cautiously, you take small steps till you reach the corner before the alley, you hide behind the corner as you try to peek into the semi-dark space.

The person is hunched against the wall, head hung low as his elbow rests heavily on his knees.

His shoulders shudder when he exhales out a shaky breath. You're already out in the open, right at the center if the alley.

"Billy," you whisper, waiting for him to see you. But he doesn't move, his eyes still trained on the ground.

Your lips form a tight line, without giving it much thought, you approach him quietly, stopping infront of him, you squat down and took a good look at him.

His fists are bloody and burst open, you don't see much of his face, only that his nose is bleeding down to the ground, a second passes but he still doesn't pay you any mind.

You tilt your head up and sigh, reaching into the plastic, you grab the juice box because Dewey forbid you give his beer a dent.

You place it in front of him, a breeze passes by in between you and nothing makes a move.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

"Ohh-kay." You tut and stood back up, quickly walking back to your bike, you walk your bike just far enough from the store but near enough to check on Billy once again.

Your eyebrows lift when you see him in the the same position.

Sheesh, okay, bad day.

You pedal away as the sky turns orange. He's pretty intimidating without Sidney, wait no, he's intimidaung any day. You wonder how Sidney landed him on the boyfriend lottery, he's the definition of heebie jeebies.

No. Don't judge people by its cover.

Western culture is built on a foundation of shared myths. The accepted idea is that these myths differ from stories because they permeate the very air we breathe: they are the building blocks of our common consciuosness, whether we are aware of it or not. A myth trascends the contingent elements that tie it to a particular time, culture, or author, and becomes universal.

In his essay Le Vent Paraclet, Michel Tournier (a French writer who has written several mythical retellings) distinguishes two types of myths. Ancient myths were the outpouring of a nation and a culture's soul. They often had no single author, tried to explain reality and regulate life, and were -at one point- considered to be true. Modern myths are stories written by a known author and published as novels or plays, but they are so powerful that eventually they transcend the original work and start to have an independent life.

Some examples of this second kind of myths I can give off the top of my head are the myth of Don Juan, the myth of Don Quixote, the myth of Hamlet, the myth of Robinson Crusoe, and the myth of Faust. The first kind, on the other hand, are the corpora of ancient mythologies and epic poems, from the Celtic to the Norse, but two sources of myth in particular have been the veritable bedrock of Western culture, art and literature from the Middle Ages to the present day: the classical and the biblical.

All these myths are constantly subjected to rewriting: a myth that is not rewritten stops breathing. It becomes history. It is dead. When myths are rewritten, the bones stay the same, but the skin changes: the story becomes the vehicule of new values, of a new age, of a new culture, while still somehow being recognizable as its old self.

Biblical stories, from both the Old and the New Testament, are a particularly fruitful well of these kind of rewritings. Literary studies in recent years have been focusing on the Bible not just as a sacred text but as a source of mythical structures, of tropes and characters. It is incredibly interesting to trace the metamorphosis of figures like Salome, Eve, Cain, Judith, Judas through centuries of transformations and shifting values.

The same goes for Greek and Roman mythology. The Homeric poems, in particular, have been used to legitimize and glorify different civilizations, and to express different value systems. We can already see a first transformation in works like Euripides' The Trojan Women, written centuries after the Iliad, which focuses on the grief and suffering of the enslaved women of Troy rather than on the heroes' triumphs. Then Virgil rewrites the character of Aeneas, who becomes a model of Roman virtue and whose journey is used to legitimize the translatio imperii and Rome's current role as the Mediterranean's egemonic power ( not to mention Augustus as its leader). More than a millennium later, in the anonymous XII century romance Le Roman d'Énéas, the Trojan hero becomes a medieval prince guided by Christian virtues, whose courtship of Dido and Lavinia is described according to all the norms of the troubadoric fin amor. This removed from classical antiquity, the poem is virtually useless to learn about either Roman or Greek culture, but it is a veritable enyclopedia for the study of the so called "XII century Renaissance" in France. In the XVI century, the poet Ronsard takes a page out of Virgil's book and in his Franciade he invents Francion, Hector's supposed son, whom he casts as the founder of France, thus glorifying his own country as the true heir of classical antiquity as opposed to the Holy Roman Empire. And on and on it goes, the roots of the war of Troy gradually forgotten, the story told and retold, until we get to the American appropriation of the myth through works like Troy and The Song of Achilles.

Nolan's Odyssey is part of this long tradition. His Odysseus is no more similar to Homer's than Dante's Ulysses, or Joyce's Leopold Bloom ( not to say that Nolan is Joyce or Dante, obviously, but the mechanism is the same). It is just the later incarnation of the character: not a bronze age Greek warrior, not a medieval man, not a Jewish Dubliner wrestling with the problems of the early XX century, but a thoroughly American hero of the 2020s. This is the natural life of a myth, or at the very least it is the latest example of how western culture has always dealt with its shared mythology: as a neverending source of archetypes and stories that can be used to convey universal messages while being adapted to different contexts.

Now, should we challenge and question this dynamic? Absolutely. I think it is high time we did. We should remember that while Greek myths, being myths, present universal elements, and while they are undoubtedly one of the foundations of European and American identity as a whole, they were Greek first. Their universal, transcendental nature is embodied in a specific cultural and historical context that should be aknowledged, studied and respected. I do not think we should stop using them, transforming them and rewriting them, but we should do so carefully, remembering that there's a whole nation for whom these are much more than universal stories. Above all, to properly change and subvert a myth you have to study it thoroughly: you have to understand it deeply, far more so than an ordinary reader. In these respects, Nolan's movie is undoubtedly a failure, and I understand the rage of Greek people towards this film. I am Italian: I can relate, at least in part, to the commodification of their culture, to the anger caused by the looting of their artifacts, to the feeling of being appreciated for their past but disregarded in the present. I am frustrated myself by how Hollywood has always dealt with our history and our mythology. I also think that is worth pointing out how these movies keep ignoring the fact that these stories are set during time periods and in cultures in which the barycentre of our world was not Northern or Western Europe, but the Mediterranean, from Greece to Turkey to Italy to North Africa and the Middle East. The ethnic and cultural diversity of this world is always erased. I think the polemic about the casting of the movie, in one sense or another, becomes entirely moot when you consider that not a single actor is of Greek or Turkish or at least Mediterranean heritage. Beyond the landscapes, the movie does not look like the Mediterranean in any way: it looks American and Western European. Since it is not an isolated case, but a pattern, it is worth noticing and questioning. But it is important to remember that Nolan is just the latest manifestation of a shared attitude to myth that started centuries ago. Just like all of Europe since the Middle Ages, American filmmakers and writers consider classical culture as theirs. It is quintessentially Western, so it belongs to everyone. And in a sense, they are not wrong: at this point in our history, it has penetrated into every aspect of European (and by extension American) culture and art to the point that Europe as a cultural concept wouldn't exist without it (just like it wouldn't exist without the Bible, which is another text that should definitely be contextualised in the cultures and periods that produced it).

What Nolan did is not outlandish: he is operating within the coordinates Western culture has always operated in, and which we can most definitely struggle with and object to.

So, I think we should look at his movie and analyse it just as we would any other mythical retelling: it has nothing to say about Greek culture and mythology, but everything to say if we read it as a mirror of the culture that produced it.

When my friends and I got out of the cinema, we started discussing the movie- what we liked, what we didn't like, which changes to the source text were interesting and which ones we objected to- and one of the things that came up was that it "felt very American" (duh). That's a feeling everyone who's not from the US experiences often with movies and TV shows, but this time I found myself stuck on it: what about it, precisely, "felt American"? And what did those changes we noticed tell us about American-and in some sense Western- culture today?

So last night, while trying to fall asleep, I started analysing mythemes. [ EDIT @bosscrow23 yes, my friend, before you say anything, I REALLY could not fall asleep last night after we went home. Don't kill me.]

Mythemes are a structuralist concept that I find incredibly useful. They are to a myth what phonemes are to sounds and morphemes to words: its minimal units. They are narrative structures that can be used to analyse it, to take it apart and to rewrite it.

For exampe, in the myth of Cain we have the mytheme of Cain, killer of his brother, but also the mytheme of Cain cursed by God, the mytheme of Cain builder of cities, and the mytheme of Cain the father of blacksmiths. Over the centuries writers have taken one or several of this mythemes and rewritten the myth, sometimes even intertwining it with others.

Another example that naturally comes to me is the myth of Hamlet (purely because I have worked on Hamlet a lot, although never through the lense of mythemes). When rewriting or adapting Hamlet, we can choose to focus on different mythemes. There is the mytheme of the prince's uncle killing the king and stealing the throne, which in its simplest form is found in the Lion King. There is the mytheme of the ambiguous, possibly Oedipal relationship between mother and son, which is at the centre of Olivier's Hamlet movie, but has also been reworked (and cited) by Chekhov in The Seagull. There is the mytheme of the hamletic doubt, which has known thousands of incarnations: the first one I thought of right now, for some reason, is Turgenev's novel Rudin, where it becomes the basis for the portrayal of the Russian "superfluous man" of the XIX century. There is the mytheme of the ghost of the father, which we find in Goethe's Wilhelmeister. There is the mytheme of Hamlet as an individual fruitlessly struggling against an oppressive power, which has become a metaphor for dictatorship in Kozintsev's Hamlet, as well as in theatre representations in Prague before the Prague Spring and in several Arab countries. Or the mytheme of Polonius, the rambling, cerimonious counsellor, reworked in Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. And so on, and so forth. We can tell a lot about an author's or director's intentions from which mythemes they choose to explore and transform and which ones they choose to ignore.

When it comes to Nolan's Odissey, these are some of the ones I thought of that I feel are relevant to his rewriting-in reference to the myth of Odysseus as a whole, as presented by multiple sources, not just in the Odissey. [spoilers ahead]

1) The mytheme of Odysseus ( and Penelope) as πολύτροπος (polutropos): the many-faced, ever-shifting, cunning hero. This is the defining characteristic of Odysseus (and of Penelope, his mirror) and we know it from the very first verse. The epithet is repeated frequently as far as I remember, and everyone and their mother knows that Odysseus is intelligent, cunning and manipulating. Now, don't get me wrong, there are definitely elements of this in the movie, but two of the most famous episodes are omitted. As for Odysseus, it is the "nobody" scene (up to and including the fact that in the source he gets Polyphemus drunk on undiluted wine and manipulates him before blinding him). For Penelope, it is the bed scene.

Why is this aspect toned down? What does this tell us? I think it doesn't fit with the kind of hero Nolan wants to portray. These are characteristics we, in our society, generally associate with villains. They do not correspond to either the ideal portrayal of masculinty nor femininity (ironic, since Odysseus was a new kind of hero in his time too).

This is tied to the exclusion of another mytheme, that is mabe a little less well known: the mytheme of Odysseus faking his madness. This is not in the Odissey or the Iliad, as far as I remember. I do not know what the source is (I will check later), but my friends and I all knew it as an integral part of the story and it immediatly came to mind because of the themes being discussed in the movie. Nolan's story puts a lot of emphasis on Antinoo's cowardly decision to avoid going to war by bribing Sinon to take his place. It is seen as the first symptom of his lack of bravery and honour. But Odysseus himself also tried to avoid going to war by pretending to be mad. He ploughed the earth and sowed salt until they stopped him and proved he was sane by putting the infant Telemachus in his path. It would have been interesting to explore, but it wasn't included because once again it does not fit with the intended portrayal of the protagonist.

The Western, Anglo-American hero of our times does not desire to go to war (obviously, he is not a barbarian) but he does not try to get out of it: that would be cowardly and dishonorable, and not something real men do. He is a good fighter, and he does not hesitate to do what needs to be done, up to and including causing the massacre of innocents-but then he regrets it. He is tormented by guilt: he is a Good Person™ who only caused such horror because it was necessary. It is not a very edifying portrayal, in my opinion, even though it is well developed, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Homer's Odysseus, but Jesus Christ if it does not hit the nail on the head about what American culture in particular (but European culture too), and especially the most moderate currents of it, consider to be The Ideal Man and Soldier.

2) The mytheme of the νόστος, the voyage home. There would be no Odissey without it, and the movie highlights it by insisting on paralleling Odysseus's journey with Agamemnon's (interestingly, Odysseus meets his shadow, but an not Achilles'). What I find compelling s that here the return home is above all a return to family. The relationship between Odysseus and Penelope is central, and in places it reads very much like a contemporary love story, in my opinion. Odysseus does not have relationships with Circe or Calypso here: it is not even hinted at, or left ambiguous, because it would be unacceptable according to modern American ethics. The portrayal of women also reflects our contemporary view of female rights and issues, rather than focusing on historical accuracy (what a surprise).

3) The mytheme of Odysseus as a storyteller. I find this particularly fascinating. In the movie, Odysseus does not narrate his adventures to the Phaecians at Alcinous' court, but in a series of heart to hearts with Calypso. Public storytelling becomes intimate, and this tells us a lot about how we narrate stories in the West. Storytelling is no longer a collettive, collaborative and public excercise. When it is oral ( and it almost never is) it is not done as a performance, spontaneously, among a crowd. I listened to a conference recently about how Native American storytelling has always bene largely oral and collaborative, and how in Canada it keeps being erased because the West only recognizes one way of telling stories as legitimate. This made me think of that.

4) The mytheme of the Trojan horse. The core thesis of this movie is that, by tricking the Trojans through an abuse of the laws of hospitality, the Greeks have destroyed the very basis of their own world and culture. I was VERY intrigued by this. I think it was an interesting choice. Among other things, centering the theme of the death of a culture due to a deterioration of values (and of hospitality in particular, not to mention immoral conduct in combact) in the current political climate has implications, even if we choose not to read too much into it. However, what I kept coming back to was Odysseus' debilitating guilt about Troy and about the death of his companions, and his need for expiation. Now, unless I am seriously misremembering ( the last time I read the Odissey was several years ago) this is not at all a theme in the Homeric poems and it feels....decidedly Christian. You know the traditional distinction between classical culture as a culture of shame, and Christian culture as a culture of guilt? Yeah, this is 100% culture of guilt, and it betrays a deeply embedded cultural Christianity. Speaking of which,

5) The mytheme of the journey into the unknown west. To be honest I am not at all sure this was intentional, but the journey into the unknown west is part of the myth of Odysseus, in a broader sense. It is not in the Odyssey, where Tiresias predicts a future journey inland until Odysseus is among people who have never seen the sea, but it is present in the Divine Comedy. Dante writes that Odysseus, driven by his thirst for knowledge, convinced his men to journey beyond the Pillar of Heracles (the Strait of Gibraltar, which were the end of the known world, as far as Dante knew). They sailed into unknown waters until they glimpsed the mountain of Purgatory, and in that moment god struck them down for their unforgivable act of hubris. They all drowned, and Odysseus and Eurimacus ended up in Hell. So, in Dante's version, the journey into the unknown west is undertaken in direct defiance of the divine order; in Nolan's Odissey, it is god-ordained. Nolan has Odysseus say he will defy the gods to save his men, but he eventually surrenders: his last test is a test of blind faith, which he passes. I think this is also quite telling, as far as our reading goes.

You were planning on going to bed a bit earlier than usual. You were going to prep breakfast to make some pastries for him in the morning. It had been a while since you’d baked. You looked around, satisfied at your cleaning streak. You decided to shower before continuing, maybe you’d be able to catch anything you had missed afterwards.

You stepped out of the shower and walked up to the sink. What a crazy few days you’d had. You hadn’t really had the chance to be alone and process everything. You stared at your reflection as you wiped the mirror. You’d never really thought of yourself as someone worthy of being desired. An odd thing to admit, but you had also never really had the luxury of having the sort of life where that would matter. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery was a fast paced one and every day could be your last, so you often found yourself discouraged from participating in things people your age did. Dating, partying, traveling…it's not like you could afford it either. The only reason you’d really ever gone out was because of Akari. She would invite you to go out to places where she could relive her delinquent youth. She was also the reason you had gone on any dates in the first place. That reminded you, you needed to text her and see when she was free to hangout. You had a lot to catch her up on. 

You walked out to your living room and sat on the couch, picking up your phone. It suddenly dawned on you that you had never gotten Nanami’s number. You seemed to remember Akari saying she gave him yours. You opened your messages and scrolled to confirm. 

Something made a noise in your kitchen. 

Your blood ran cold. Was it an intruder? A curse? Had something broken in? You slowly reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. You sat up and looked towards the noise, but didn’t see anything. A cup holding your washed silverware had been knocked over. Okay…maybe it had just come unbalanced. You got up holding the bat up and slowly approached the kitchen. You cautiously made your way around the counter looking down and jumped. 

It was your neighbor's cat. 

You sighed in relief and lowered your bat. “Messi, what are you doing here?” You picked up the orange cat who meowed in return. “How have you been? It’s been a while.” He meowed again. “Really?” Meow. “I’ve been good. I met someone.” Meow. “Well he was someone I already knew.” You walked out of your apartment, cat in tow, and made your way next door. Your window had a tear in the screen and Messi had made a habit of going through it and somehow prying open your window (which didn’t lock) and wandering into your place. You didn’t mind, you had actually set up a little water bowl for him in your apartment. 

You knocked on the door. “Hi, it’s Y/N. I'm returning Messi, I haven’t been home for a couple of days, so I don’t know how long he’s been in there.” 

You heard some shuffling and suddenly an older lady opened the door. You had never seen her before. She looked at you and then at the cat. “Keep the damn thing.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice from behind the lady, your neighbor. She made her way to the door and you saw she was crying. She took the cat in her arms and held him close, starting to cry again. “Thank you.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Osuke had his second trial today and was convicted,” she said through tears. Osuke was her husband.

“That stupid lawyer, I should curse his entire family,” the old lady muttered. You had a feeling she was Osuke’s mother. 

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You had known about the trial, it had been ongoing for a couple of months now. He had been arrested after being framed for a robbery. The story you had been told was that his boss had been the one to frame him. He was a bottom tier worker, and the perfect scapegoat for the crime. 

“No, thank you though,” the woman said. 

“You can take the damn cat. She’s moving out of here. After the lawyer’s fees and the loss of his income she’s moving in with me, I don’t want to take care of that thing,” the older lady said.

“I’ll take care of it, please,” the woman cried. 

The lady grumbled something else and went back inside. “Thank you for bringing him back.” She wiped her tears and offered you a hug. “We’ll be out by tomorrow, I can't afford the rent. I’m already behind on the last two months.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I hope everything works out. You have my number, call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” You smiled at her and she nodded and closed the door. 

You stood alone in the hallway. Everything was so silent. You heard the women arguing again and you sighed. You went back into your apartment, sitting on your couch again. You hoped everything would work out for them. The couple next door had been so nice. Osuke and Makiko and their cat Messi, they’d lived here longer than you had. You sighed and rubbed your temples. There really wasn’t much you could do for them.  

You reached for your phone again and went to text Akari. 

-sorry i meant to text you earlier, and then i got distracted again. messi was in my apartment and scared me to death. -when are they going to fix that damn window for you? -i don’t mind, i love that cat.  -but if he can get in so can other things, my skin is crawling just thinking about it  -someone is on the road to getting uninvited from my place.  -no way, you owe me from all the times I’ve let you crash at my place -damn…speaking of, when is your next free day? we need to hang out.  -i can do the day after tomorrow, i have a half day, does that work? -perfect, i’m also just coming in in the morning -you can tell me all about your adventures with the old man. have you said yes to being his girlfriend yet? -he hasn’t asked me yet -boooo

You started typing when you received a notification from an unknown number. 

-Did you make it home okay?- It read. You smiled.  -is this who I think it is? -Y/n it’s me, it’s Nanami Kento.  -then it is who I thought. I did make it home safe, I found my neighbor's cat in my apartment so I’m glad I came to check, they’re moving out tomorrow morning. -So you’re free now? -…yes ? -That’s good, get some rest. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow.

Hmm you thought he was going to ask something else. You looked at the clock. It was 7:53, earlier than you thought. I should probably get started, you thought to yourself. You pulled yourself off of the couch and went into your kitchen. You would make your dough tonight and let it proof overnight. 

Overnight proofing is the best way to make bread. 

You were shot back into a memory. 

The best things in life are worth waiting for you know. And what’s better than fresh bread? Nothing! Ask anyone that comes in tomorrow, I dare you.  

You smiled fondly as you rolled the dough into a little acorn shape before rounding it out and setting it in a glass bowl. 

As you finished up you checked the time. You had gotten done pretty quickly. You just needed the topping for the melon bread, which you could make as the oven heated up in the morning. You checked your pantry one last time for brown sugar and you realized you didn’t have any. You frowned. You’d run out for some in the morning. If you didn’t go to bed soon you weren't going to want to get up in the morning.

You sat for a moment and noticed the silence again. It’s not like it wasn’t ever quiet around here, but maybe after the events of the last four days something about being alone bothered you. It surely hadn’t before.

You moved into your bedroom and lay on the bed. You usually felt stuffy in here, that’s why you preferred to lay out on the couch, at least it seemed more of an open space compared to your bedroom. But now it felt nice. You felt safe. 

You stared at your ceiling. “Maybe I should call him,” you said out loud to yourself. You closed your eyes and imagined his smile. The way his perfect teeth shone, the way his nose crinkled a bit when the corners of his mouth lifted, his lips on yours. You swallowed and opened your eyes. If you let your mind wander any longer you’d be in trouble. You groaned in frustration. You missed him, how pathetic. You had always been one to make fun of how quickly people in your field tended to get together, but here you were. 

You heard your neighbor and her mother in law faintly arguing through the walls. You frowned trying to think if there was really nothing you could do. 

You had too much “compassion”, you had been told by one of the old professors at Jujutsu Tech. There’s no way to save everyone and to try is to doom yourself. You scowled as you remembered what he had said to you. The arguing died down and you hoped to yourself they worked it out. At least they had each other going through this. Things were tense now but hopefully they’d adjust. You made a note to check in on them tomorrow. You went to set your alarm when you remembered Shoko had wanted you to stop by her office early in the morning. You groaned and set your alarm for earlier than you had intended. Nanami said he’d be by around 7, it would have to be a quick breakfast as you wanted to get to the school by 8, you hoped he didn’t mind. You finally drifted to sleep. 

You groaned as your alarm woke you up, but you quickly sat up and went to wash your face. You needed to split the dough, and lay the cookie topping over it and let it proof for another 30 minutes at least. You could run out to your corner store while they sat and you preheated the oven. 

As you opened the door to exit, you almost tripped on a pile of items placed in front of your place. Cat toys, a litter box, cans of cat food, a small bed, and a note. 

Messi got out again last night and I’m afraid we just don’t have time to look for him. I think he’s better off with you anyway. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If it’s too much I've contacted a shelter that would take him. Here is the number. 

You frowned a bit. You loved Messi but you didn’t want a cat. You dragged the items into your apartment and quickly went out the door. You’d deal with this later, you were already running behind.

As you stepped back into the hall, winded and trying to catch your breath after returning and climbing the seven floors, you looked up to see a man in a suit knocking on your neighbors door. This wasn’t your man in a suit, quite the opposite. 

You approached him cautiously. He had jet black hair, his suit was dark, and he reeked of alcohol. 

“Please, just let me apologize- I did all I could. I won’t charge ya any money, just please, I’m sorry.” He stumbled as he continued to knock. You were going to have to get past him to get to your door. There was no avoiding him. 

“Excuse me,” you said, announcing yourself behind him. The man turned to look at you. His eyes were tired and sleepy, he had deep bags under his eyes and his sharp nose was red. He was definitely drunk. “If you’re looking for the residents, they’ve moved out.” 

“What?” 

“They’ve moved out, what did you need to tell them?” you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry?” 

“I need to apologize to them. Osuke was jailed. It’s not fair. The whole system is corrupt. I should-” 

“Were you their lawyer?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he turned back and started pounding on the door again. “Please let me speak to you!” 

“Tell him to stop that before I call the police!” an old man from down the hall had stuck his head out of his door to yell. 

“Sir, no one is in there. You have to go, it’s too early to be causing such a ruckus,” you said. 

“I need to apologize,” he whined. You noticed a buzzing coming from his pocket, his phone was ringing. 

“Do you need to get that?” you asked. 

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to you before turning back to the door. The caller ID said Shimizu. You grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him away from the door as you answered with your other hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Yes, hello… is this Higuruma’s cellphone? Who’s speaking?” A woman spoke on the other end. 

“Ah, he just handed me his phone. He’s very drunk and knocking at someone- I think maybe one of his clients' doors.” 

You heard her curse, “Would you be able to tell me where he is? I apologize for the disturbance, I’ll come by to get him as soon as I know where to go.” 

“Ah, yes-” he pulled himself from your grip and started going towards the door again. “Sir-” 

“There is no justice!” he cried out. 

You stared at him a bit shocked, what was he on about? You told the woman your address. 

“I can be there in around 25 minutes. Would there be any way you could keep him put? I apologize again for the inconvenience.” 

“I’ll try my best…” you looked at the man as he collapsed onto his knees, staring forward at the door. You walked over to him and handed him his phone. “Shimizu is on her way to get you,” you said. He just stared. You looked at your apartment and sighed. “Would you like to wait for her inside?” You pulled the man up to his feet and unlocked your apartment. You held the door open as he stumbled inside. You reached inside and grabbed a couple of cans of cat food to hold your door open. The last thing you wanted was for Nanami to get the wrong idea.

Once inside you rushed over to your kitchen to check on the bread. The man walked around not looking at anything in particular, but just moping. “Have a seat,” you motioned to the small table and chairs. He sat down and you turned back to your baking, unpacking the sugar you had just bought. You quickly grabbed a plate and spread the sugar, then you rolled the diamond patterned tops in the sugar. You placed the six little buns you had made back on the baking sheet. The oven still had a couple of minutes before it was ready. 

You turned back to the man and were shocked to find him staring at you. “You just let a strange drunk man into your apartment, while alone?” 

“I left the door open…” you muttered. “Besides, I think I could take you in a fight. I’ve dealt with worse.” He gave you a questioning look. “Would you like some water? Some tea? Coffee?”

“Water.” You poured him a glass and walked it over to him. He began rubbing his temples with his hand. He seemed to be sobering up quickly. You grabbed a couple of crackers from your shelf and handed them to him too. 

“Eat something, get a grip before your friend comes to get you.” 

You heard the oven ding and you walked over to put the pasties in the oven. You set a timer for twenty minutes. Looking at the clock you had about 30 until Nanami showed up, probably less since he seemed to be pretty punctual. You turned back to the man and saw he had chugged the water and was gingerly taking a bite out of the crackers. You started cleaning up the kitchen, putting the bowls in the sink and clearing off your small drying rack. 

“Who is coming to get me?” he asked.

“Ah, your friend, I think her name was Shimizu,” you answered. He muttered something under his breath. “More water?” you asked. 

He nodded. You went over with a pitcher and filled his cup, this time sitting down across from him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“So…there’s no justice in the world, huh?” You asked. He frowned. “I don’t think that’s something I’d want to hear from my lawyer,” you eyed him curiously. 

“I apologize for my outburst.” 

“No, no I understand. From what I know Osuke was innocent. It must be frustrating to lose a case, especially when what happened was so unfair.” You thought back to the old woman grumbling about the lawyer. “That old lady was very angry, I can’t imagine that’s easy on you.” 

His hand gripped the cup tightly. “People have no sense of understanding right or wrong. Everything is so black and white to them. But there are so many complications before you can see one or the other clearly.” He stared at the cup. “Most only see the bad, the ugly, that’s the easiest thing to pick out, the easiest to understand. I think most people assume that others are inherently bad, so expecting bad things to come from them is second nature.” You stayed silent as he contemplated his words. “It doesn’t help when your client looks like a bad guy, it’s an uphill battle, but I try I really do.”

He sighed, taking a drink of water before continuing. “ If I lose a case, it's easy to blame me. I'm much more tangible than blaming some higher power for not being in your favor. No one wants to believe that I do this out of a want to help others, they see me as wanting money, as taking advantage of those in dire situations. They only ever see me as greedy when I lose. Another bad guy. I want to help, but when it comes down to it, who am I to a jury, to a judge? I’m another bad person, defending a bad person who did a bad deed. They think if they were truly innocent I wouldn’t have to work as hard, I wouldn’t have to find such cunning ways to prove their innocence, but I try. Not out of trickery or malice, but because I want to believe that not everyone is bad. But again and again people only see me as a bad guy defending bad people, and I'm afraid I'm losing sight of what this all used to mean to me.”   

You looked at the cup he was holding. “I see…” you thought about everything he had just said. You thought a part of him was just feeling sorry for himself, but other points he made were valid. There was a time when you thought everyone in the world might have been bad too. “When I was sixteen…I left my home because of an incident,” you started. “I was alone and scared and I thought that it had happened to me because I was bad.” You frowned slightly as you recalled the events. “And because I thought I was bad, I justified a lot of the things I did. I snuck onto buses and trains to get to Tokyo, away from where I was because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be there, I didn’t deserve to be close to my family. And I stole…a lot…not big things, not precious things, food mostly. I was hungry and had no place to stay and I saw others do it…and so I became ‘bad’. I became what I thought I was, what I believed the world wanted me to be.” You looked up at him, he was staring at you trying to figure out where you were going with this. “But then I met someone, someone who was good, someone who only ever saw the good in people no matter what and that…changed me.” 

“Who did you meet?” he asked. 

“I went to a bakery,” you smiled fondly and looked down at your hands on the table. “I had known about it since I arrived in Tokyo, the line was always out of the door by 7 am, but I had never had the chance to go in. I mean, I never even had the money for it and the owner, she was this sweet old lady and even though I was already stealing food from other places, I felt like if I stole from her I would be too far gone. 

But as it goes, the more I stole, the more I felt entitled to, and after a month of fighting it, I finally gave in and made a plan.” You shifted in your seat, you had never told anyone this story. “I made a plan, and woke up early, to be one of the first in line. I was sixth or seventh outside the door, and when I finally got to go in I felt like crying, it smelled so good and it was so warm. She greeted everyone with such kindness and it was just her that day. I had seen a granddaughter with her before, but this morning it was just the lady. 

“I pretended to look around, considering what to buy. I let people go in and out before I finally decided on a single piece of Melon bread, delicately wrapped in plastic. It was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever seen. I grabbed the piece and tucked it under my arm and started heading towards the door. I turned to check if anyone had seen me and I saw her staring at me.” You laughed and shook your head. “She was just staring at me and her eyes went to the piece of bread I had tucked under my arm and you know what she did?” You looked up at him. “She looked back into my eyes, smiling the whole time, and said to come back soon. I ran out of there, terrified for my life. I thought she was going to call the cops, but there was something about her smile that just seemed so genuine. 

I think I got about ten steps down the road before I stopped. The guilt was too much, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve to have something so nice. I was bad, and I had done a bad thing.” You scrunched your nose. “I went back immediately. I pushed past the people in line and went right up to her and I handed her the bread back. She looked at me confused and just shook her head. ‘You can have it, it’s your first time here right? Take a seat, let me know what you think of it.’” You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I sat down and just cried while I ate it. I bawled, like people stared at me out of concern.” The lawyer stared at you. “When I finished she came up to me and asked how it was. I started apologizing profusely and she just handed me another one, and asked if I’d like to learn how to make my own,” you shook your head incredulously. 

“She offered me a job and a place to stay. I still don’t understand how she was able to see right through me.” You heard the timer go off and you shot up to get the bread out of the oven. You smiled as you saw how perfectly the six little buns had crisped up. You transferred them over to a plate and grabbed one for the lawyer. You placed it in front of him. “There are bad people out there, but there are also good people. There has to be a natural balance otherwise everything would fall apart, don’t you think?” You looked at him as he stared at the pastry before him. “I can see that you really care about your clients. Even if this was a bit inappropriate to do, drunkenly asking to speak to them and all, but the right sentiment is there.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “The world needs more people that are willing to look past everything and find the good. I hope you can keep doing that.” 

You heard laughter from the hallway and looked over the lawyer’s shoulder at the open door to see Nanami and a sharply dressed woman stepping out of the stairway. The woman suddenly looked at you and then at the lawyer. “Higuruma!” She quickened her step towards your place. Nanami followed behind her. “Pardon my intrusion,” she said as she entered. She stomped up to the man checking on him before turning to you. She bowed slightly. “I apologize for his behavior. This is completely out of character for him, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s okay, he explained some of what’s been going on. Do you work with him?” 

“Yes, my name is Shimizu, I’m a colleague of his, I’m also a lawyer.” 

“I’m Y/N, sorry we have to meet like this.” You turned your attention to Nanami who was staring at the man. “Sorry our breakfast plans got thrown around a little.” 

Shimizu turned towards Nanami and then back to you. “Ah, I see...” She smiled at you. “I’ll take over now, thank you again for your help. Here’s my business card, let me know if there’s ever anything you need.” You took her card and smiled. Fancy, you thought to yourself.

“Wait,” Higuruma said. “Have my card too,” he felt around his pockets for them but couldn’t find anything. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your wallet,” Shimuzu said, annoyed. She pulled out another card and handed it to you. “Here’s his card as well.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Thank you for listening to me…” Higuruma looked like he was trying to remember your name.

“Y/N,” you repeated. 

He smiled at you. “Wait!” he said again as Shimuzu started pushing him out. “My melon bread…” he muttered, turning back and grabbing it off the plate. Shimuzu sighed and continued to push him out. 

You watched the two bicker as they went down the hall and into the staircase. You became aware of Nanami’s eyes on you. You reached down to move the cat food out of the door frame and let the door shut. “If I ever got called to fetch you out of some stranger’s apartment after you had a drunken night out, I don’t think I’d be as calm as she was,” you said. You turned back to him after he hadn’t said anything. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea. I helped him out and we just talked.” You frowned. “I feel like saying that makes me seem more guilty, but I don’t even know why I’m defending myself here.” You turned to him and stared for a bit. “Are you mad at me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “No?” 

“Oh.” You turned back towards the door. “You were just being so quiet…I mean I heard you guys laughing…the lawyer lady, Shimizu. She was really pretty. She looked so professional..” You smiled half heartedly. “You looked good together.” You muttered. You frowned as you realized how ridiculous you sounded. “Anyway…” you turned towards the kitchen and started walking to the counter. “I made some pastries this morning. It’s not much, but we’ll also have to be quick because I forgot I promised Shoko I’d meet her early. So I only have time to change and then we probably need to head out. Sorry for rushing things.” you frowned again. “I should have told you to stop by earlier, but I got a little distracted.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“M-me?” You felt your face grow red. “No-no I’m not- why would you- why would you think that?” you laughed awkwardly. “I was just saying she’s super pretty and I’d just never heard someone laugh with you like that before I mean other than me- but I mean I guess I don’t really know you-I mean I know you but not like I know you now- and she’s-I mean she’s super pretty you have to admit-“ 

“I wasn’t a fan of the way he asked for your name at the end of your conversation,” he said looking down at his wrist and fiddling with his watch. “I know that look he gave you… I’ve given you that look.” 

You smiled and felt relief. “Seems like we’re on the same boat.” You shook your head and went over to him, looking up with a playful frown. “Was she really that funny?” 

“She was the only one laughing, I don’t think anything I said was particularly interesting.” 

You thought back at the way her eyes had turned from you to him and back to you. Oh I see, she had said. “She was into you,” you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ve done that before, laughed like an idiot at someone who’s not funny because I thought they were hot.” 

“Have you done that with me?” He asked. 

“No, you’re actually funny. It’s never forced with you.” You looked up at him again. “It’s your fault, you’re so handsome. We have to do something about your face.” 

“Well then, what do you suggest we do about yours?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was quite taken with you.” 

You made a face and shook your head. “Men will rant about their problems to you and then think they’re in love just because you listened.” 

“Did he rant about his problems? His alcoholism? His brutishness? What was he thinking coming into someone’s apartment in that state? He’s lucky he didn’t-“ 

“He was having a rough time of it actually. I do feel a bit bad.” You turned back to look at the door and then the cat items. “He was my neighbor’s lawyer. They’re a young couple, the husband was arrested on some unfair charges and he seemed devastated by the outcome.” 

“That’s not very professional.” 

You shrugged. “I think it’s been a long time coming. Hopefully my pep talk keeps him back on track for a while longer, but I have a feeling he’s going to snap one day,” you said darkly. “There was something unhinged in his eyes.” 

Nanami pulled you back and hugged you tightly again as you buried your face back into his chest. He smelled nice. 

“Speaking of my neighbors. Do you like cats?” 

“I don’t dislike them.” You nodded, backing out of his arms. “Why?” 

“They left me in charge of their cat, Messi. Well not left me in charge, it’s more like they gave him to me. They left me all his stuff, he got out of their place yesterday before they left and somehow he always ends up at my place.” 

“How does he get in?” 

“Oh I guess I should show you around my apartment. Though there isn’t much to look at.” You ran a hand through your hair as you looked around. You pointed at where he was standing, next to the table. “Dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom door, bedroom door, ta da!” You smiled cheekily as you pointed back where you started. “Bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever had a house tour, huh.” He looked around slowly, taking in the frames on the wall, the knick knacks on your shelves and the books piled all over the place, stacked not so neatly. “It’s- it’s really not much but it’s home,” you said feeling a little insecure again. Maybe you should have cleaned more. 

“It’s lovely,” he said. “It feels very much like you.” 

“Thanks…” you said. Your eyes went to the clock in your kitchen and you perked up. “Oh wow, is that the time…” 

“May I see your bedroom?” He asked. You felt your face go red again. 

“Oh, sure,” you started walking towards it. “I need to change anyway, hope you don’t mind.” 

“Never.” You felt the blush grow and your stomach get tingly. 

You opened the door and gestured briefly. “This is it, again it's not much... I think the bed is too big for this space, but it’s comfortable.” you went around to your closet pulling out a pair of black slacks and a white button down. You laughed to yourself. “That pink frosting was not coming off of my shirt. That’s two shirts you owe me, Kento.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he said as he looked around the room. “What about this weekend? Are you free? I could take you shopping.” 

You laughed again, “You’re like the main lead in a drama series. You’re too much, you know that?” 

“Sorry?” He offered. 

You smiled at him.“Thank you, but I’ll take a rain check on the shopping. I can get my own stuff. I’m hanging out with Akari on my half day, but Sunday I’ll be free,” you said as you buttoned your pants. “That is if you want to meet up on Sunday… if you’ve available.” 

You turned to him and saw him blush this time. “Sunday…works.” You smiled victoriously as you walked over to him in just your bra. He stared at your face and you nodded briefly as if to give him permission to look. His eyes trailed down. “It’s a shame we have to hurry to campus. Are you sure Shoko can’t wait.” 

“She’s doing me a favor by offering to teach me, I can’t do that to her,” you said. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you forward. You looked up expectantly and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled. 

You finished getting dressed and you felt his eyes never leave you as you moved around. He walked behind you out of the room and into the kitchen where you proudly showed him the bread you had made. 

“This is a very secret recipe, I doubt you’ll ever have one as good as this.” He looked down at the bread and smiled fondly. He picked up one of the little buns and slowly bit into it. You watched his face carefully for a reaction. You saw his eyes water slightly as he savored the treat. 

He smiled and nodded. “Good.” 

You were a bit confused. “Yeah…you okay?” He seemed to be lost in thought. “Kento?” 

He smiled again and blinked a few times. “Yes, sorry, it brought up some memories. This is very good, Y/N.” 

You smiled, deciding to not push it. “I worked at a bakery for a short time.” You looked at the buns. “They're good but you should have tried the ones where I learned… I guess people are masters for a reason.” He nodded and continued to eat. 

“Did you want coffee or-” Suddenly your phone rang. You pulled it out of your pocket and read the name, Shoko. 

“Hello?” you answered. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’ve been called out to do something so I won't be at the school this morning. Is there any way you could come in during your lunch?” 

“I think that should work,” you said. Nanami looked at you curiously. 

“Great, see you then.” 

“Ooo~ is that Y/N?’ you heard Gojo’s voice in the background before she hung up. 

You looked at your phone and then back up at Nanami. “So it looks like we have time after all, Shoko just rescheduled.” You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Sorry for rushing you before. Did you want some coffee or anything? I need a little pick me up.” 

He shook his head, “Sit down, you’ve had a long morning. Do you mind if I make us some coffee?” 

“I can make it for you, it's no problem-”

“I insist. It’s the least I can do,” he said with a smile. You smiled back and nodded. 

“Fine, let me atleast get the ingredients out for you.” 

“I’m sure I can find what I need,” he said, gesturing for you to go sit at the table.

You obliged and sat down with a happy sigh. You watched as he moved around the kitchen, looking for ingredients. The coffee, the sugar, etc. You smiled as he grumbled to himself as he searched for items and he would occasionally look over at you for some guidance. You pointed at your cup drawer and he looked over at you as he pulled out two mugs. He held one in his hand and read the text. 

He frowned. “I used to work at this company,” he said. 

“Ah, I got it as a freebie after signing up for their newsletter or something like that, I don't remember now.” You laughed, “I wonder if you were at that event. It must have been around the time you worked there. Before I had this apartment I used to rent one close to their headquarters, so I would walk by almost daily. We were so close and had no idea.” 

Nanami smiled, bringing over two cups of coffee and the tray of bread. “I don’t think you would have liked me then.” 

“What do you mean?” You took the warm cup from him. 

He sighed as he sat, “I feel as if I was a soulless shell of a man focused on money”

“Was?” you teased. 

He gave you a look, “Am I still?” You blew on your cup and smiled slyly. He smiled, “I guess I am still focused on money, but soulless?”

“Definitely not, I can tell by the way you made this coffee,” you said, taking a sip. He shook his head and looked down at his cup. He had taken the one with his old company logo. 

“Would you have liked me?” He mumbled. 

“Probably not, if I’m honest,” you said bluntly. You smiled, “I hate stiffs in suits and I don’t have much money so I doubt you’d have given me the time of day anyway.” 

“Stiffs in suits? Isn’t that what I am now?” 

“At least you’re helping people, now. That company always had a fishy vibe, there was always a tan blonde man in sunglasses who would try to pick me up with bad English phrases.” You scrunched your face. “Sound like someone you know?” 

He laughed. “Unfortunately I know who you’re referring to.”

The two of you finished up your breakfast and Nanami offered to do the dishes while you tidied up. You wiped down your counters as he rinsed the cups. You moved on to the table. 

Laying on the table were the two business cards the lawyer had handed you. You examined the sturdy ivory rectangle and the elegant gold lettering of the man’s business card. Hiromi Higuruma, it sounded like a name out of a tv show. You looked up and saw Nanami staring at the card in your hand with disdain. You smiled, laughing a bit at his expression. 

“Here,” you reached out and handed him the card. “Hold on to this for me, you never know when I might need a lawyer.” 

He begrudgingly took the card and scanned the writing, the scowl still on his face. “I’ll keep you out of trouble.” He tucked the card into his pocket. 

“Did he really bother you that much?” 

“Please, enough about him,” he said with a sigh.

“I kind of like that you’re jealous,” you teased. “Anyway, what are you so worried about?” You reached out and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You felt his cheek grow warm as a blush came over his face.

Nanami looked down at his watch, he seemed to be calculating something in his head. “We have about thirty minutes until we have to leave right?”

“Yeah, why?” 

He suddenly moved closer to you, putting his hand on either side of the table around your waist. “Should we make use of our morning?”He gave you a cocky smirk as he gently moved one of his hands under your chin, tilting your face upwards.

You felt your face burning now. “What can we even do in only half an hour” 

He tilted his head as he thought. “Well we really only have twenty minutes,  I would allow us another ten to compose ourselves.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” you asked, laughing. 

He shrugged as he brought his face closer to yours. “We can make it work.” He closed the distance between you, delicately placing his lips on yours. He was so warm, so soft. You pulled him closer, placing your hand on the back of his head and lacing your fingers within his silky blonde locks. His lips moved softly against yours, his hand gently placed on your back as he settled himself between your legs. You pulled back for a second and looked up at him. His lips were glistening with your mixed saliva and face was flush. You smiled. 

“Seeing as I haven’t really had the time to do laundry, and the fact that I’m down a couple of shirts, and that we have a record of being…messy. I propose we move this to my bedroom.” 

He smiled and nodded. He placed another soft kiss on your lips before backing up to let you move forward away from the table. 

“I’ll try to not let it become a habit.” 

“What?”

“Ruining your shirts.” 

“To be fair you only ruined two, the other one was that monster.” You shrugged, “Some things are just inevitable.” You turned towards him once you were in your room and started unbuttoning your shirt. “Should we set a timer?” you joked. 

Nanami set his blazer aside and loosened his tie. “We can be quick about it. We made do in that bathroom.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, “Oh my god,” you buried your face in your hands and sat on the bed. You heard him chuckle and you looked up. He placed a hand down onto your cheek and you smiled at him. He slowly lowered his face down towards you and kissed your forehead. He pushed you onto your back as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. You shifted your weight as you reached down to pull your pants down. You slipped them off of your legs and suddenly felt him grab your right ankle. He smiled coyly as he placed it up onto his shoulders, you felt your face go red as you looked at him. He held your leg firmly as he lazily unbuttoned his pants and shuffled them down to expose himself. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he moved forward and ran his cock over your underwear. He moved forward, placing his knees on the bed as he brought your legs up onto his thighs. He picked up your left leg and pressed it against his side as he moved forward to kiss you. You groaned as you felt your right thigh stretch against his chest. You moved one of your hands onto his shoulder and the other laced into his hair bringing him closer. Your tongues danced as you desperately kissed him. He continued to buck his hips, running his cock over your now soaked panties. He grunted at the friction and quickly moved back suddenly. You whimpered again as your leg moved back up with him. He let go of your left leg and moved it over opening your legs wide before him. He looked up at you, his pupils wide and his mouth wet with your spit. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed down your body. “Y/N…I don’t know how to explain what you do to me…” He licked his lips as he thrust his hips forward against your clothed cunt. “I apologize in advance if I’m being too rough.” He looked back up at you. “Please let me know if I’m too rough..” He moved a hand down and pushed aside the wet fabric easily. 

He pressed his tip lightly against your opening. You moved a hand forward and pressed it against his abdomen stopping him momentarily. “Kento…” 

His head snapped up to meet your eyes. “Yes?”

There was a desperation in his gaze that made you feel a warmth in your chest. “It’s okay.” You moved your hand back and lifted your arms over your head. “Be rough with me, please…” you moaned and arched your back as you felt him dip a little deeper inside you. 

Nanami quickly grabbed your other leg and pressed it back against you as he moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. You let out a yelp, which was muffled by him devouring your lips. He pushed his hips roughly against you, desperately, quickly, as he held your legs further back. You were folded over yourself and you felt the head of his cock bully the deepest parts of you. You gasped everytime he pushed into you, becoming a mumbling mess under his touch. He slipped an arm behind you and brought you closer to him and you gasped at the change in position. He had you trapped in a mating press and all you could do was mutter incoherently. “Kento!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure. He moved his mouth from your lips and trailed sloppy kisses down to your jaw and into your neck. You felt him bite your skin gently before latching onto the side of your neck. He was going to leave a mark, you were sure. You moved your arms forward and hugged his large torso towering over you. He wasn’t slowing down and you were reaching your limit. You dug your nails into his back and you heard him hiss as he released your neck. He smiled snarkily before moving to the other side of your neck and biting down on it. You dragged your nails along his back again and he bit down harder. You cried out as he desperately moved his hips with more force, his knees slipping and forcing him deeper as he temporarily let his weight drop on you for an instant. You moaned loudly and clenched your entire body as you came. He grunted into your ear as he thrust his hips one more time before releasing with a roar. 

You were both breathing heavily as he stayed inside of you for a while longer, twitching against your contracting walls. He kissed your face gently as he tried to catch his breath and you smiled, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. After some time he finally moved back, releasing your legs which had been trapped between the two of you. He took a moment to massage your thighs in his hands. You hummed in appreciation. 

You felt him move back and pull out of you. You winced as you felt warm liquid ooze out of you. You pointed to your bedside table and he quickly fetched a handkerchief to clean you up. 

“I might have gotten carried away again.” 

You laughed and sat up sorely. “It's only 8 am.” You mumbled. He smiled at you and you saw his eyes trail to your neck. You put a hand over the spots he had leeched on to. He smiled satisfied as he made his way off the bed. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower…would you like to join me?” You nodded and scooted off of the bed. You looked at him as he turned his back towards you and winced. He turned to look. “What? Is something wrong?” 

“Your back,” you said with a frown. “I didn’t realize how hard I was scratching.” 

He peeked over his shoulder at the sharp red lines. “Nothing you can’t fix,” he said. He went over to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

After your quick shower together you went back into your bedroom to get dressed. You looked in the mirror at your body. He had left a mark at the base of your neck, just low enough to be covered by the collar of your shirt. You looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw he was staring with a smile on his face. “I might have been caught up in the moment, but I made sure I was careful.” 

You smiled back and looked at the mark again. You looked back up at him. “This…this doesn’t have anything to do with you being jealous does it?” 

He blinked and you saw his eyebrows furrow slightly. “No,” he huffed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve.. “Why would you- No, I’m not-”

You laughed. “Sorry, I had to tease. I love when you get flustered.”

He sighed and came up behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Do you have the lady lawyer’s card? What was her name? Shimizu? I think I should hold on to her card as well.” 

You frowned and leaned your head into his. “I knew it. You’re leaving me for her.” 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you bringing you closer to him. He buried his face into your neck and took a deep breath. He pressed a kiss into your shoulder before moving up to kiss your cheek. “We should get going.” 

You turned to look at him. “Okay.” He took your hands and lifted them to his lips to give them a gentle kiss. 

“Make sure Shoko doesn’t go too far, she has a habit of getting carried away…”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊thank you for reading my way too overly complicated fic, i have so much planned and its all really self indulgent but I'm glad I can share it with other nanami lovers. i'll try to be better about posting the next part without a three month ghosting period, but in my defense the end of 2024 was out to get me....anyway much love to you all and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't -Nana

Lucanis hummed thoughtfully. “I shall refrain from telling you about the message from Antiva City then - “

“The memorial ceremony,” Amara grumbled. “We have two months. I am not thinking about that tonight.” Sighing, Amara reached for her husband. “I’m cold.”

“You are laying on top of the covers in your underwear, mi amor,” Lucanis said, though he obliged and lay down next to her, pulling her close. “Nico is asleep, I promised Ally I would take her climbing next week if she leaves the library shelves alone, and Ori finished her lessons before retiring to her room.”

“Unprompted?” Amara asked.

“There might have been some carefully applied incentives…”

Amara snorted. “You bribed her?”

“With. Chocolate,” interjected Spite, sounding smug. 

“I knew you had an ulterior motive for slipping away in the market this morning.”

“Well, we saved the best pieces for you,” Lucanis said, kissing the back of her neck. “They are waiting in the washroom with a bath and the chamomile tea you purchased yesterday.”

Amara turned to face him, feeling the smile spread across her face. “Are you bribing me now?”

“To make sure you take care of yourself and not just everyone else? Yes,” he said, the slightest glint of purple light in his eyes. Making it clear that Amara was outnumbered here.

Putting on her best put upon face, Amara leveraged herself back to a seated position. “Very well. I’m not sharing the chocolate, but I might be willing to share the bath.”

Lucanis grinned and offered her a hand as he stood. Amara took it, letting him pull her to her feet and into a kiss. The consequences of living a full life was living a full life, with all the obligations and work that entailed, but as her husband led them towards the promised bath Amara knew she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Thank you @rookanis-week for hosting! I posted day 6 with nothing done for today and figured I should write what I know best - I have never seen more of myself in Amara 😂 (Also after yesterday, fluff seemed like the way to go 💕)

Day 1: Tea Day 2: Cages Day 3: Warmth/Touch Day 4: Relaxation/Peace Day 5: Family/Spite Day 6: Dreams