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

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

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

-`,✎ ( to be written / made )

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The trespasser wasn’t a man...”

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

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

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

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

“I... I am a commander, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The brat?”

“Pepita!” 

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

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

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

Like always, Cecilia bitterly thought. 

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

Auntie Risa sighed almost dramatically, finding her niece unbelievable. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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