Into the Light
Oct. 3rd, 2020 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerI think this takes place before Like Nothing You've Ever Seen (probably). I'll figure out the exact timeline at some point.
Quick rundown: In this universe, Japan is run by the women. Miyamoto Suna is Xander, and she's a matriarch of the Miyamoto Family, or Miyamoto-gumi. Suna and Sunao or Nao-kun are the same person. Miyamoto is genderfluid and simultaneously at peace with it/confident in their choices and more messed up than canon. She also used to be the lieutenant of the Kumai-gumi. Kumai, Jesse, was the old Matriarch of the Kumai-gumi but is currently on the run due to the events of A Cup Overflows and Phoenix Spirit. Akiyama Yoko is Willow and Matriarch of the Akiyama-gumi. The Amaya-kai is the Clan Natsukawa Renyo (Buffy) is the Chairwoman of. Miyamoto's referring to Buffy with Natsukawa-sama and Dawn as Natsukawa-chan (she's the Matriarch of the Natsukawa-gumi). Hattori is Snyder, the Matriarch of the Kazami-gumi. Irezumi are the yakuza tattoos. Ume blossoms are plum blossoms. This one's written half in Kansai-ben, an accent that's usually contrasted with Kanto-ben, the version of Japanese spoken in Tokyo, and it's the accent Majima and Saejima, and more to the point of the fic, Miyamoto, speak. It is thought of as more slangy, in contrast to Kanto-ben (you could compare it to Other Accents vs British Received Pronunciation). I'm trying to render that in the fic. Cordy is Miyamoto's "husband" (they don't care as long as you're acting within your "gender" and there's one wife, head of the household, and one husband, submissive and caretaker of the household). She escaped her father's cult and sought refuge with the yakuza. Inoue is Andrew.
More author's notes: background notes
You might also want to check out the irezumi background stuff, as there's some symbolism going on here (I went over the basics, so you'll be fine to just read, but it'll give extra to the fic): Natsukawa (Buffy), Akiyama (Willow), Miyamoto (Xander)
Fic-specific notes: this actually got written because I jumpscared myself by walking by a wall-hanging and immediately thought "Akiyama would do that"
Main Points:
Buffy/Yakuza AU (Bloody Petals)
Chapter Summary: Miyamoto's tired of yakuza politics. Akiyama helps out.
Word Count: 3070
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Cordy/Xander (Miyamoto)
Warning: references to possible former abuse (Cordy was in a cult)
As she passes one of the hangings it turns into Akiyama. Miyamoto yelps, lips curling into a snarl, and on instinct her fist flails out. She can hear the crack of Akiyama’s jaw. That sounds like it hurt.
“Yer lucky I didn’t stab ya.” She would’ve, if she’d had her dagger on her. The other Matriarchs insisted she doesn’t at meetings for precisely that reason. An’ she could have it in the shake ‘a a dog’s tail, but she’s not sure which ‘a the Matriarchs know that, an’ she’s tryin’ t’ be good. Ish. Awright, so stabbin’ Hattori was maybe a step too far, but come on, that little troll was askin’ fer it. Even Natsukawa-sama seemed t’ think so.
Akiyama, though, isn’t taking any of it seriously. Just waves it off like it’s nothing. Like it’s one ‘a ‘er cats, friendly chewing on ‘er hand or somethin’. “Pfft, I’d be fine.” She ain’t, less she visits the healers right after or does it ‘erself, ‘cause that’s going to bruise bad, sure.
“That ain’t somethin’ t’ joke about.” Okay, sometimes she does, but it’s different because she knows she ain’t gonna do it casually when they’re not fightin’. Akiyama can’t know that. Just ‘cause this convo’s more ‘n they’ve had fer years, don’t mean they’re blood sisters again. They’ve both changed.
She crosses her arms and gets serious. “Are you happy?” Because, of course, that’s the point that’s serious, not stab wounds among friends.
“Don’t see ‘ow that’s any ‘a yer beeswax,” Suna grumbles mostly to herself. She’s ready for a cat-nap, curled up under the sun’s rays. Too tired t’ deal with meddlin’ Matriarchs.
“Suna. I still see us as friends. I’m not asking for any plans of my own or anything. For once, my focus is you. Are you happy?”
Miyamoto searches Akiyama-san’s face long and slow with her remaining eye. “…Yah. Yah, I’m happy.” And she is. She hadn’t really thought marriage would be her thing, but she fell and fell hard for the feisty lady in the club. Well…that had really been Sunao, sorta, ‘cept it wasn’t as clear a line as usual ‘cause when Sunao’s in America he’s gotta keep ‘is eye peeled, in case ‘a attacks or kidnap attempts (an idiot had tried that once an’ was in fer a nasty surprise) an’ hasta borrow Suna’s business sense and confident edge, and the feisty lady ain’t quite as feisty as advertised.
“You don’t sound happy,” Akiyama observes, directing her to follow with a quick touch and heading to the outdoor garden. There, Akiyama directs her t’ sit at the ancient wooden structure lookin’ over the pond.
Winter’s finally startin’ t’ turn t’ spring, so of course the plums’re startin’ t’ bloom. There’s a symbolism in that, Suna knows. She hadn’t really thought about it until recently, when they’d all fought each other, and both Natsukawa-sama and Akiyama incorporated ume blossoms into their irezumi. Natsukawa-sama specially had the Three Friends ‘a Winter, signalin’ that even with the distance, the Chairwoman and Matriarch still considered them friends an’ cherished their friendship, and Miyamoto…
She should be happy, likely. If she was lookin’ beyond ‘er station, ‘cause two powerful women still thought well ‘a ‘er. As it was, ‘cause even with the gap ‘a years, they hadn’t fergotten ‘er, left ‘er behind. As it is, she ain’t got none fer them. She’d heard they’d coordinated designs, back then, but she was already well on ‘er way t’ bein’ Kumai’s little errand-girl. Can’t ‘member anymore if they’d left ‘er behind or if she hadn’t made the time fer them. Even if she replaced the botan with ume blossoms it’d be an afterthought. Their irezumi are deep, full’a symbolism, an’ ‘ers? ‘ers is just…the whims of a child, followin’ a dream ‘owever unwise an’ askin’ fer what sounds cool.
It’d just left ‘er with inadequacy clawin’ hollow and rude up her throat. Made her vicious. They’d been happy, like the lack ‘a respect was them all bein’ equal again, and it is, sometimes, when she’s not feeling like eyes are on ‘er, judgin’ and findin’ wantin’, when she’s confident. They can’t tell one from the other, an’ it ain’t their fault neither, given she don’t want them t’ know ‘ow it feels t’ be broken. As it is, she feels like an umbrella full’a holes in a typhoon. Not just useless, but failin’ so bad at servin’ the ones holdin’ ‘er they’re getting drenched an’ she continues to fail.
There’s no point in askin’ them, though. They’d say ‘a course she ain’t, and as it is Suna can’t believe ‘em. They’re already bein’ too nice. It’s not a language Suna speaks, try as she might. Though…mebbe what she needs is deeds. That’s a language she’s always understood.
Akiyama produces a comb from nowhere and directs her to turn away. Suna swallows, doing so quickly so Akiyama won’t notice ‘er eye start t’ fill t’ the brim. That feels too trustin’, too intimate, an’ she don’t feel like she deserves a thing. Her voice has t’ be quiet, too, or it’ll sure be a glarin’ neon sign in ‘er voice. “Though I don’t…I don’t know what t’ do fer her.”
She starts t’ relax despite herself, though. Playin’ with ‘er hair’s always been relaxin’. Meditative, even. “The cult stuff?” Akiyama—no, she oughta be usin’ Yoko at the mo, right?—is payin’ attention, showin’ interest without bein’ pushy, an’ understands, even a little.
Miyamoto can’t stop the yawn from escapin’. Really was too early. “Yeah. Most of the time, she’s happy. Explorin’ her environment, learnin’…my wifi bill nearly doubled, ‘n in my Family that’s somethin’ t’ be proud of. She’s talkative ‘n feisty when she wants t’ be, but she ain’t…Sometimes, it’s like she ain’t even there.”
“Like you?” Suna flinches a little at the question, even if it ain’t accusin’. It’d only happened the once. Usually, the feelin’ of bein’ unable to breathe hasta come first, but nah, not that time. Natsukawa-chan mebbe pushed a little too far too fast, but catchin’ Kumai was important, and Miyamoto wanted t’ ‘elp ‘ow she could. She’d cometa ‘erself in a hug, Akiyama holdin’ ‘er like they were kids again. Like they were friends again.
“…Yah. Sorry if I scared ya.” Akiyama was rumored unflappable but she seemed flapped (is that even a thing people say, Miyamoto, y’gotta stop lettin’ yer brain do what it feels like) then.
“Don’t be stupid. We take in outcasts. Of course none of us are going to function normally.” The way Akiyama says that—does she have problems, too? “I’m too nosy, I blackmail people for fun, and I probably use magic more than I should. At least I don’t smoke, because I’d be addicted to that, too. Renyo…she’s probably the best-adjusted, but that might be because she’s a bit naïve and so just doesn’t…notice things? I had to stop a sabotage attempt by my own Captain the other day, but I don’t blame her. That’s just what you get when you put a bunch of people in a system that calls for both endless ambition and unending loyalty. Something’s got to give.” That’s…thoughtful. Yoko—that’ll take some practice, t’ remember—has a reputation for giving away less than anyone else, but she still babbles. That’s reassuring. Less so that it feels like she’s readin’ Miyamoto’s mind, but with the powers of a kitsune what ain’t she capable of?
Nice t’ see ya, but if yer in m’head, get out, she thinks nice an’ clearly, an’ if that is what’s goin’ on, she’s gotten her point across.
“It’s nice t’ not feel alone.” She goes back to the main point, tryin’ t’ keep ‘er mind offa anythin’ she mighta gathered on ‘ow the aura power works. “I dunno how much I should let ‘er just run ‘round, ‘specially as I’m tryin’ t’ follow the Chairwoman’s orders, too. She’s made ‘erself the perfect husband, but. That’s only ceremonial. Ain’t what I want all the time.”
“If it helps, it mainly matters when you’re in public or you’re both at an Amaya-kai function, and even then, the amount of normal you both seem is starting to make people, especially Hattori, nervous,” Yoko responds, and that definitely sounds like permission.
“Ain’t that the point?” Tryin’ t’ tame the rabid haiena?
“It was, a bit. With a husband, you’re taken more seriously, given how you are. But no one expected it to work as well as it seems to be, and like I said, that’s making people nervous.” At this point, the combing is more for comfort than necessity, but Suna ain’t gonna complain. “Renyo and I—we’re nervous, too, because you’re not acting happy, and this was supposed to be something good for you.”
“It is.” She’d defend that even if all it did was give Cordy the refuge she needed, but there’s somethin’ else there, buried. “It’s just—the aches ‘a growin’, I guess? ‘elpin’ m’ girls ain’t near this hard.”
Yoko nods encouragingly.
“Doesn’t help that she won’t voice what she needs. I keep askin’ ‘er, but. She won’t even say when she’s hungry, an’ she’s still got ribs showin’. My girls have taken that t’ just mean they need t’ feed ‘er at all times. ‘Specially Inoue-chan.”
That quickly reminds her of a rumor she’s heard. “Don’t make ‘er ferget. Trashin’ those memories ain’t gonna do nothin’ about ‘er feelins.”
“Oh, I’ve learned my lesson about that.” Suna actually bothers to turn to give her the side-eye, because what. “It was a good thing to learn.”
Akiyama has the reputation for a reason, it seems.
“I think the Chairwoman would agree the most important thing is whatever makes both of you comfortable. If that involves Cordelia being feisty, whatever, the fusty old-timers can stuff it.” Suna giggles and bites her lip. “This might be a good time to learn to delegate, because spending time with each other is important.”
Ouch. She ain’t wrong, though. “Do what I did and let her talk when she’s comfortable.” Wait, she…that’s what alla this is? “Give her small choices. She might panic at first, but when making a small choice doesn’t lead to disaster, she’ll be more comfortable making bigger ones. Are you still good at baking?”
“I said I was okay,” Miyamoto mutters, taken aback, because she still remembers that?
“It’s probably better for Inoue-chan to do most of it, and it’s a more masculine type of hobby, not that that bothers either of you. But make her, say, that delicious Western banana chocolate bread, leave her a slice with a ridiculous sticky note or something. She’ll remember small acts of kindness like that.” Plus that means she’ll be able to eat it, too, though Inoue-chan should probably taste-test. “I ask not because I want a blow-by-blow explicit account—I can find that when it doesn’t involve my friends. How is she with the sex?”
Suna bristles, turning to snarl something at Akiyama, and to forestall that Yoko takes her hand. “I’ve been reading up on cults. It’s fascinating until I remember why I’ve been researching. I’ve also been asking around about the Chase Commune and what I’ve heard…hasn’t been great. Sexual exploitation is not uncommon.”
Miyamoto tightens her jaw. “I’ve…I’ve been gentle. Tryin’ t’ go by cues, but it’s hard. She don’t seem t’ have none? Though it ain’t…” Putting any of this into words, let alone to Akiyama is hard. “I ain’t got the feelin’ they went all the way t’ a home run or nothin’, but other than that she don’t even notice boundaries alla th’ time? It might just be a Western habit, but…”
“But you’re our Western expert, and you don’t think so,” Akiyama finishes, brutally honest now, and Suna closes her eye briefly. She’d forgot all about the crying. It’s probably obvious on her face, but it’s too late now to hide it.
She opens her eye again, fixing Akiyama with a confident stare. “No. I don’t.”
“…Maybe maintain your own boundaries, while making it clear via voice or something that it’s not a rejection of her? The issue is that you have to get her to realize that’s weird—and I know it’s weird for me to be saying this, shut up—and she’s not aware it’s weird, unlike some of the other things. But at the same time, you have to make it clear it’s not something wrong with her. Since she grew up there, it might be harder?” Yoko doesn’t have all the answers, which, while unhelpful, also makes Suna feel a little better. “Although, seriously, if you’ve been leaving her alone, don’t. I know she’s chafing at what feels like more surveillance but if you can make it feel more like hanging out—which is good for her anyway…”
“I want ‘er to make friends other ‘n me, specially as I ain’t gonna be able t’ be there all the time. Th’ stickin’ point there’s m’own crew. Y’know the weird respectful distance they all got? They’re extendin’ that t’ ‘er.” Suna runs a hand distractedly through her hair.
“You know, you’re the only one who gets that effortlessly, and you don’t even want it.” Akiyama sounds amused. “Bet if you phrase it as a way to help her, they’ll be falling over each other trying to be her friend. It feels like all they live for is pleasing you—which might be a little cult-y, but…”
“’t’s not like I ask for it,” Miyamoto’s tone is, appropriately to her mind, sullen.
Yoko pats her hand. “Trust me. Miyamoto Cordy’s already picked up on that. It makes all the difference.” She pauses and laughs. “That, and she’s probably seen dissent all over the place. How many debates about the best videogame or best character or your ongoing fantasy fight statistics has she seen?”
That feels like slammin’ into a wall full speed. Suna’s a little dazed. “…Uh. Don’t keep count. That’s normal?” Except it’s not, not for Cordy. As normal as it feels to have knockdown, dragout fights in the middle of the living room about DC vs Marvel, disagreements like that, particularly since it’s one of the only things she’s trained her girls to actually argue with her about, might actually help Cordy feel safe, bonkers as it is. People feel safe to disagree with each other, even violently disagree, even with her—long as it’s not business and they all fall in line. She tries to remember the one the morning after they’d been married and vaguely suspects she’d slammed Inoue-chan into the wall when the little shit was bein’ clever about Black Widow, not that her lieutenant had backed down at all from bein’ cheeky, then had a nice civilized talk about breakfast once the girls had straightened up the furniture, teasin’ each other. Even begged a little for some extra waffles for them both (“you would like them”, and then had to watch the show to explain the comment, though it ain’t stand-out realistic, with the Japanese characters all men). That had to be some culture shock.
“Has she had an exam? I don’t know if that one’s a part of it, since making an actual practical army requires soldiers who can fight…” Health, she’s talkin’ about health.
“I…don’t think so? She mentioned somethin’ about the healers bein’ normal, an’ bein’ able t’ heal—” No, wait, nothin’ about the aura. Akiyama don’t need that info.
Yoko laughs. It’s a pretty laugh when it’s not meant to intimidate. “I’m working on that, too. I’m really curious, but my kind of experimentation wouldn’t be good for either of you right now.”
The wheels are turning. “I could ask ‘er which she’d prefer an’ schedule ‘er with th’ rest of m’ Family. That way she wouldn’t be singled out.”
“Do the times when she’s acting normal worry you, too?” Yoko asks, an’, well, that’s hardball.
“You use this, an’ I will make you suffer,” is the only answer she can muster, because Akiyama has absolutely no right.
“Twenty-four hours, no healer,” Yoko promises, and there’s the turning point. Trust?
…Yah. “Part of it acts like our irezumi. She ain’t fully ‘erself. She’s drawin’ on strengths ‘n experiences outside ‘er own. I wouldn’t even tell ya ‘cept yer the magic expert round these parts.”
“Oh! I see! Clever girl,” Akiyama exclaims, and promptly at a look dials her excitement back to eleven. “She started developing her own personality using that, probably, and it could be easily hidden if she dropped it. You might want to watch out for worse than normal dissociation or even a kind of multiple personality thing, though.”
Suna shakes her head. “It ain’t as far as all that. Multiple personalities. Dissociation…yah. Most’ve it’s ‘er confidence. I c’n see the beaut she wants t’ be, but sometimes, that slips—that’s when she ain’t got choices or hunger or nothin’.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Yoko starts, and Miyamoto cuts her off.
“Nah, it ain’t, if it were healthy, but it ain’t. Shy’s fine. An’ she’ll probably get t’ shy, given a little time. Even I can’t be strong 24/7. She’s…she’s a little turtle, scared t’ cut ‘er way outta ‘er eggshell, ‘cause she’s cute an’ the world is a big, wide, painful place, but she’ll die if she stays in there too long. She’ll get out if she sees she’s got allies an’ really understands it.” Suna stands. “An’ on that note, I’ve a text t’ send an’ a husband t’ get home to. An’ likely snore on. Thanks, Yoko.”
2 early!! (= _ =) save me! (*^3^)/~☆ seems like a good start.
Her only response is ^m^ after a couple minutes which Suna assumes were spent noticing the message and then googling. It’s progress.
