squish squishy !

and that's all he needs to keep going. he is her lucky bamboo   ;   require not does he of sunlight, so long as the reflection off her eyes remains.   "   nooo, you don't wanna be like the soldiers there! they're all gross and mean. i think you'd know that, considering the whole japanese shtick o'yours,   "   spoken with a sneer that's mostly joking. if he was any more serious, he'd probably get kicked in the head   ...   he wouldn't like that. maybe.   "   regardless, yeah, 't was suuuper popular. guess it was the sweetest thing the americans could find, after they got tired of eating sushi to shōyu, hehehe.   "

❝   hmm,   ❞   she   replies,   childishly   exaggerating   the   drawing   -   out   of   the   consonant   sound.   ❝   maybe   you're   right.   but   it's   not   a   shtick,   you   fanta   -   haired   idiot   !   ❞   pulls   on   his   ear   a   bit   for   that   one.   how   dare   he   ?   ❝   i'm   not   gonna   turn   up   my   nose   at   any   decent   people   with   an   appreciation   for   anything   japanese,   no   matter   how   gross   and   mean   they   can   be   !   at   least   they   have   an   eye   for   all   the   beauty   right   in   front   of   them.   ❞

    Sonia was wide-eyed at the glorious spectacle which was the festival. Dressed in her very first kimono, she was positively beaming. “Thank you kindly for everything, Hiyoko.” Slender fingers reached out to hold the other’s hand. “Shall we explore? There is so much I wish to; see, understand, and experience.”

    Hiyoko was not only a bodyguard but a cherished companion. One that she could rely on – in every way. “Where should we go first?”

❝   of   course,   sonia   -   nee,   ❞   she   offers   as   a   response,   words   thick   with   a   sort   of   juvenile   enthusiasm.   always   eager,   always   /   desperate   attempts   to   retain   appreciation   for   traditional   japanese   aesthetics.   she'll   oblige,   of   course   she   does.   ❝   ooh,   do   you   want   to   play   goldfish   scooping   ?   i   see   a   booth   for   it   just   over   there   !   ❞   points   with   a   hand   mostly   sheathed   by   the   fabric   of   her   furisode,   outstretched   lithe   finger   revealing   the   location.

he yelps, like a kicked mutt, and yet there is no corner for him to scamper into. so he stands there, pride far more than swallowed as she plays with him. he's still nowhere near recovered from her onslaught of insults and   ...   sensations, but the reassuring measure she gave his digit is enough to make him sober out of his pity, if only for a moment.   "   konpeitō? i-i haven't had any since i was back in urashii   ...   the military men there were apparently a big fan of it.   "   a short pause. a quick breath. a stuttering exhale.   "   saionji, i   ...   "   quietly, under his breath,   "   i love you.   "   after all of that   ...   ?

it   is   not   quite   a   puppeteered   instance   of   weakly   -   washed   sympathy   ———   in   some   ways,   she   loves   his   pathetic   contagion.   putty   in   her   hands.   it   feels   good   to   play   into   her   power   fantasy   :   that   she   is   the   untouchable   one.   it   is   safest   that   way.   ❝   looks   like   i   have   something   in   common   with   the   military   men   !   now   hurry   up   before   i   do   something   worse   to   the   rest   of   your   fingers.   piggyback   ride.   now.   ❞   beckons   for   her   lily - livered   steed,   whispering   a   faint   i   love   you   too   into   his   nape   as   she   mounts.

he knows better than to deny her — to deprive her of the completion of her whims. he was just hoping that she'd be a little bit kinder today. not bothering to wipe his wetted visage, he opens up his legs and parts his hands to reveal it. " c-c'mon ... please don't do this out in the halls. you know — " he hiccups a bit, and wipes his nose with the sleeve of his jumpsuit. " you know i can't help it ... saionji, " his eyes bleary and desperate, " not here ... " and so he caves into her game.

she's   merciful.   at   least,   she   thinks   so.   such   is   why   she   gently   takes   one   of   his   parted   hands,   bending   one   of   his   fingers   back   —   not   to   cause   too   much   pain,   just   a   biting   reminder   that   she   was   not   playing   around   —   before   wrapping   her   petite   fingers   around   it   afterwards   and   giving   it   a   soft   squeeze.   ❝   you're   such   a   disgusting   idiot.   buuuuut,   i   won't   be   mad   at   you   if   you   buy   me   some   konpeitō.   ❞

his eyes widen, and for a moment his ever-twitching digits flail upwards to reveal the tent in his jumpsuit ; the mistake likely goes unnoticed by neither the mechanic nor the dancer, and he curls his fingers in and bows his knees to protect his ' jewels ' from any impending damage. " hghhh — ! please don't do that...! y-you know i can't — saionji, please, i'll apologize for being rude and everythin'! " pleas fall out of his lips like rain, and, if a bit pitifully, it's easy to understand why his tears drip down just the same.

she   notices.   of   course   she   does.   she   has   trained   herself   for   years   to   be   erudite   and   perceptive   in   all   changes   to   her   environment,   including   those   around   her   :   the   bare   minimum   to   survive.   ❝   huh   ?   what's   this   ?   ❞   feigning   naïveté,   head   goes   askew.   ❝   souda   -   nii,   can   i   see   your   hand,   please   ?   ❞   and   she   asked   so   sweetly,   she   even   removed   the   toy   from   his   skin.

he stares at her for a bit, gauging how exactly he should respond here. for a fleeting moment, it looks as though he's about to cry: his lower lip trembles and finds itself curtained by his sharpened teeth, points begging to carve holes into his mouth. would you like it if i bled for you? would you love me then? " ... yeah. y-you could do all'at, saionji. thanks for reminding me. " a surprising show of steadfastness from the mechanic, if there ever was to be one — especially considering the ' strain ' the feeling of vibration was putting on his decorum. continuing, " can you at least take that ... t-thing off of me, so i don't have to ... you know? "

❝   so   you   don't   have   to   what   ?   ❞   innocent   gossamer   ;   she   squishes   her   cheek   and   lips   with   her   free   hand,   brow   cocked.   the   hand   gripping   the   toy   is   so   ruthless   in   its   doing   that   taut   knuckles   were   verging   on   lily   -   whiteness.   ❝   pfft   .   .   .   if   it's   something   pathetic   and   perverted,   i'll   break   your   fingers   so   you   can't   do   your   dumb   mechanic   shit   anymore.   ❞

" i-if i'm so disgusting, then why — why do you keep egging me on? it's like you want in my pants or something, hiy — " kazuichi may be blunt and defensive, but he's not that dumb. " s-sorry ... if i'm a dog, what does that make you? my owner? " his face shades purple with dread! and yet his hand does not dare move.

❝   what   .   .   .   ?   you   seriously   can't   be   this   stupid,   i   refuse   to   believe   it.   which   is   crazy,   because   i'm   talking   about   you   !   ❞   a   pause   to   fill   the   air   with   scornful   laughter.   ❝   i   egg   you   on   to   watch   you   squirm   like   the   pathetic   bug   you   are,   knowing   i   could   trample   you   under   my   feet   at   any   moment.   ❞   iconoclastic   angel,   victim   of   the   devil's   lurking   within   ;   she   grins.   ❝   you're   a   mutt.   a   mangy   mutt   with   no   owner   and   no   one   to   ever   love   you.   ❞

❝   funny   joke.   ❞   closed   hand   moves,   juvenile   in   nature,   to   rest   at   her   temple,   mocking   tongue   stuck   against   the   air.   ❝   you   have   less   grace   than   a   newborn   deer.   sure,   you're   fatter   than   me,   but   that   makes   you   less   nimble   and   agile   than   someone   small   and   cute   like   me   !   i'm   not   scared   of   you,   tsumiki   -   nee,   no   matter   how   tough   you   wanna   act   !   ❞

" EUGH — saionji, d-don't do that! jesus christ, " pulling his arm away jerkily, glancing around quickly before two nervous eyes once again stare back down at her. " w-why do you even have something like this out in public ...? " a twitching hand slowly moves downwards to cover his groin.

gaze   is   drawn   to   his   movement   with   immediacy,   amber   hues   darkening   with   abhorrence.   ❝   you're   disgusting.   ❞   an   observation   that   does   not   stop   her   from   seeking   out   another   sliver   of   exposed   skin,   toy   connecting   with   him once   again.   ❝   you're   no   better   than   a   dog.   ❞

" you watch me fall apart and never intervene, " ~ * ~ * ~

a private, divergent & selective writing of kazuichi souda. by mason.

❝   what,   do   you   really   think   i'm   scared   to   break   those   chubby   fingers   of   yours   ?   scared   of   stomping   on   your   feet   'til   you   can't   walk   ?   ❞   a   marked   step   forward,   eyes   malicious   with   a   veneer   of   darkness.   ❝   wouldn't   that   just   be   soooooo   sad   ?   if   you   got   so   messed   up   that   you   couldn't   tend   to   your   own   wounds   anymore   ?   ❞