They saw the hurt on Caretaker’s face, the disbelief and pain flashing over their expression, something shattering as Whumpee almost spat the word ‘hate’.
Somewhere deep inside Whumpee, something stirred, responding to the clear hurt they caused. But it came from somewhere deep within, something that slipped between the bars of a cage that they’d locked away far, far behind it.
And their overwhelming feeling was a bitter satisfaction that almost made them smile. ’Good. Hurt. Hurt like I did.’
“Whumpee, please I–”
“I don’t want you here.” Repressed rage burned everything around them.
Another wince from Caretaker who was now on the brink of tears. “Please…”
“Get out,” they said, trembling under the emotions they held back.
“Whumpee–”
“Getout!” They made their voice as hard and cold as possible. Watched as their partner stepped back, hesitantly and still searching their face for a hint of sympathy. But as they saw there was none, everything clouded by seething rage and hurt in return, they turned away. Their shoulders shook, their figure hunched by grief, but they didn’t look back.
And while Whumpee was glad to see them leave, they didn’t understand why a single tear slipped down their cheek.
The whumpee had sworn to themselves they would never choose a temporary reprieve over their values, their end goal, what they stand for goddammit. Never ever would they take the easy way out - how could they? It’s too important, this work that they do. It’s what they’ve chosen, and they could never abandon it.
Yet slowly, they notice that they do. It breaks their heart, but they can’t stop themselves anymore - choosing the easier option, swallowing those insults about to spill over their cracked and bloody lips, giving way just a little. The smallest acts of compliance, of obedience, and how they don’t sting as badly as before.
It’s not that they don’t care, no - they do. They hope to god it isn’t so blaringly obvious to anyone but them when they slip. But… sometimes, after a particularly painful day… when they are granted a brief respite, they’re just - it’s not even grateful, it’s not that, they just - they like it. They’re happy. They’re happy about the beatings that don’t come. About the drownings that never were, but could have been. About the humiliation that is spared them in the now.
Even if it’ll be a hundred times worse tomorrow for it.
Even if it’s all just a scheme by the whumper, another thing to snatch away from them later.
Even if every day they’re here, the chances of their team ever finding them again grow slimmer. Even when another day here really isn’t something to be happy about. Even then.
They’re so aware of the pain they’re not in: it’s so vivid in its absence, bright in its unfulfilled potential - compared to yesterday, this morning, a minute ago - it engulfs them, becomes their all, and they’re happy.
Continues fromhere. A The Re-Education of Haskell Haveter story.
—
Fennec observes his subject across the table more like an architect rather than anything else. Clinical, but an eye for the detail and the beauty. He has a bitten pencil beside him, taking notes in his heavy handwriting. Haskell looks over his face with a single dilated pupil, the normal, plastic eye painfully obvious, and a sheen of cold sweat all over his pale, almost wax coloured, skin. Fennec thinks he probably ought to get out in the sun more.
Mind you, he doesn’t really get outside beyond to smoke. Even though the fluorescent lights and the shine from the two way mirror and metal table make Fennec’s almost ever-present headache worse, it never crosses his mind to take a stroll outside. The open air is frighteningly expansive and the sky is bright and sterile and Fennec doesn’t like it.
He likes minutiae.
As part of his training as a Technician, Fennec spent thousands of hours analysing microexpressions and fluctuations in body language. He can read people like a book, but keeps that to himself. He fills in the observations checklist in silence from what he’s seen of Haskell so far. In neat rows next to the freshly inked fingerprints and a black and white photo from today.
Fennec deems him aggressive, neurotic, hysterical, all old fashioned words that Interventional Psychology clings on to. He doesn’t like the trait clusters. There is no box for frightened as a trait. Just negative faults of character. No regard for the fear that drives anger.
He chews his pencil. “How do you feel today?”
“Do you, d-do you have to ask?” stammers Haskell, shivering. He is still handcuffed, and chained to the table, but Fennec doesn’t think he could stand if he tried. The sedative they use in blue packs, as they’re called, is rather strong. And God knows what Major Iverson uses- he likes to play around with dosages and mixes, and Fennec disapproves. Not that he would dare to say anything.
He shrugs. “On a scale of one to five, would poor be appropriate? One or two?”
“One p-p-point five,” says Haskell, and sniffs. “I feel like shit.”
Fennec marks an arrow between one and two. Really, the questions themselves don’t mean a whole lot. It’s between the lines he has to read.
There’s a large bulk of filler questions before Fennec gets to the ones that are designed to find a person’s pressure points. The filler questions are mundane, boring, and each time Haskell refuses to answer them, Fennec calmly restates them. He asks Haskell to lie for a set of questions, then to tone down the truth. He notes down the tiny expressions, keeps track of the tells as Haskell lies. And then they get to the pressure point question set.
Fennec whets his lips and turns the page. He reads out the first question indicated for Haskell’s personality type. “I am quick to anger. Strongly agree, agree, no opinion, disagree or strongly disagree?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” says Haskell. “I d-don’t.” He almost dribbles down his front. Fennec feels a little sorry for him, but doesn’t let it show.
“You must answer the question.” Pressure points are the integral part of Interventional Psychology. They’re things that make a person hurt enough to strip back their inhibitions and make them react rather than respond- and if a mental pressure point isn’t enough, a physical one is used. Fennec would rather not get to that point.
“N-no opinion,” says Haskell.
“I regret past decisions I have made. Strongly agree, agree, no opinion, disagree or strongly disagree?”
Haskell looks up at Fennec and bursts out laughing. Cackling, gripping onto the table with whitened knuckles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Shivering from the drugs all the while. “What do you fucking think?” he laughs, tugging at his Northwall shirt. “Do I look like I’m where I should be in life? Do I?
Fennec rubs his forehead with his free hand, brushing back his hair. He has a headache.
You’d almost had it: almost. Mr Miyagi had said he was teaching you karate, yet you had been stood there covered in paint, arms completely dead, incredibly tired and confused. You remember when he had come home from the apartment complex on that night, you finally snapped at him, yelling accusations at Mr Miyagi, you complained about acting like his slave. “I would’ve done all of these things for you, anyway! But you said I was training; this is bullshit!” Mr Miyagi grunted, claiming, ‘Ah, you are.“ At which point, you swore at him for a second time and began to walk away, fully intending not to come back. But, something in his voice as he called your name to, 'come here,’ made you stop in your tracks and turn around. The next few minutes were intense and felt like something out of an expertly written hero novel.
How were you to know that all along, he was teaching you perseverance and muscle memory? Each chore - waxing, washing, painting, sanding… was his genius way of instilling the blocks into your mind. You felt stupid, though you probably had good reason to get mad, and you realised that he knew you eventually would.
After that, you did everything he told you to do. If he wanted you to join him on a fishing trip and stand dangerously on the edge of the bow, you would. If he asked you to fix up a hole in the wall, hammer some nails, sweep the floors - whatever the task may be; you would do it, knowing that there was always a lesson to learn with him. And even if there wasn’t one, you couldn’t deny helping your best friend.
You had a great deal of respect for your friend and sensei. When you moved into the apartment complex, you were pretty introverted, and you didn’t get out all that much. You only left the house for school and a little fresh air every so often. You also didn’t have many friends; the people you spoke to were merely classmates and project partners. But then the fridge at your place had decided to pack in, everything inside melted and turned rotten, so your Mum told you to go and find the 'maintenance man’. That’s when you first met Mr Miyagi.
A few weeks later, after your shower had decided to break this time, you went to see him again and found him trimming little bonsai trees. You had had a few bonsais since you were young, but unfortunately, you always managed to kill them; that was until Mr Miyagi happily agreed to teach you how to care for them properly.
A few months passed, and you had somehow learned about his family karate, and it took a lot of convincing, but you managed to get him to agree to train you, thinking that it would give you more to do and it would, of course, come in handy if you ever needed to use it. Your parents were thrilled about this. Finally, you had made a friend and had more reasons to leave the house daily, rather than spending so much time watching TV.
A pact, some chores, and a magical moment later, you were best friends first, and then teacher and a student second. And there was not a single day where you didn’t go to see him for at least a minute, even if it was just to say a quick hello.
-
About a year later, when Mr Miyagi casually brought up in conversation that he had a new student, you were pretty damn confused. "Since when? How did I not notice this?”
“Ah, bad timing. Every time Miyagi with him, you with bonsai, or someplace else.” He pointed out. “New student, ah, live only a few doors from Y/N-san apartment, too.”
“Oh.” You wonder if you’ve already met this person or maybe passed them on the way to school without really noticing. You carefully snip some more leaves from your latest little bonsai project. “Well, how come you’re training this kid, anyway? It took me some real grovelling and persistence to convince you to teach me.”
“Hai.” Mr Miyagi laughs at this. “Boy, uh, have problem with friends. Beat up many times, so make a deal with wacko sensei.” You hear the little sounds of him gently spraying some of the trees. “Fight in tournament, then leave boy alone.”
“The All Valley?” You frown.
“Hai.”
“So, this new student of yours… has to win the whole tournament, and then they’ll stop beating up on him?”
“Win, lose, no matter. If he makes good fight, will earn respect, then nobody bother.” Mr Miyagi pauses for a moment then, before smiling and nodding at you. “Miyagi, glad you no get into fights.”
“I don’t know anyone to get into a fight with.” You laugh. “Unless you are down for a match, huh, Mr Miyagi?”
“Ha, Y/N-san, you much humour.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then you watch as he smirks a little. “Much like Daniel-san. Hm, you would make good friends.”
“Daniel.. that’s his name, then?”
“Ah, yes. And both ask a lot of question, too.”
“So,” You put down your clippers and shuffle around on your chair to face Mr Miyagi properly, resting your elbow on the counter. “When can I meet this new student of yours?”
“Come. We go right now.”
“Uh… now?” You watch him place the spray bottle down and walk towards the door. “Wait, Mr Miyagi?” You laugh in disbelief as you take your jacket from a small peg and slip it back on, swiftly moving to follow your friend.
-
“Y/N-san?” Mr Miyagi calls your name just as you get to catch up to him, and you both start to walk towards where the truck is, parked up outside of the apartment complex. “Ah. You drive, let’s go.”
He hands you the keys, and you frown. “I didn’t mean we should go right now, you know.”
“Is good time to go, Daniel-san is back at house. Have to check on him anyway.”
“What-” You flashback to the day you spent washing and waxing every single car in Miyagi’s front yard. “Oh! First lesson, huh?”
“Hai.” You give each other a knowing look, and then both hop into the truck and head off. You spend the short journey wondering how long Daniel will last before losing it over the chores and sore shoulders.
-
“Ah, good work, Daniel-san.” Mr Miyagi looks over the cars as he walks by them all. Before Daniel can register his comment or even speak, Mr Miyagi introduces the two of you. “This is Y/N-san, a special friend to Miyagi.”
“Hey! Yeah, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You offer a hand to Daniel while Miyagi disappears into the house. “Good to meet you.”
“Uh, hi.” Daniel drops the giant yellow sponge into the bucket by his feet, wipes his sweaty forehead with his arm and then shakes your hand.
“Daniel… LaRusso.”
“So, how’s it going, newbie?”
“'Newbie’?” Daniel frowns. “What do you mean, 'newbie’?”
“Well, I was Mr Miyagi’s first student, so that makes you the newbie… right?” You smirk and then turn around and start to circle the car, pretending to inspect his work.
“You know karate?” You stop and look over the car at Daniel, giving him an accusatory look, as if to say, 'are you being judgemental because I am a female who knows martial arts?’ Daniel catches it right away and starts fumbling with his words. “No! I didn’t mean because you’re- I mean, I’m not being- I was asking as a general question, I-”
“Okay, okay. Jeez, chill out, rambles. You know I was messing with you?”
“Yeah… yeah.” His mouth slightly agape, he diverts his eyes, looking anywhere but at you. “Right.”
“Alright. Well, I’m going to go and say goodbye to Miyagi, and then head home, so”, You finish your circle around the car, standing next to Daniel again and giving the car a couple of slaps. “I will hopefully see you soon. Nice meeting ya.”
“You too.” As you walk towards the house, you hear the sloshing of the water as Daniel picks up the sponge. You smile and mutter to yourself as you walk, “Good luck with the sanders.”
-
The next day, Mr Miyagi sits in the garden, sanding the edges of the boardwalk, waiting for Daniel. You had spent the morning here, throwing punches and practising kicks on the heavy bag.
“Oh, man, this is beautiful. Mr Miyagi, this is great. You’ve got real fish in there.” You stop kicking, catching the bag and watching as Daniel walks through the garden, spilling compliments and looking around in awe. “This is outrageous. I thought Chung Lee’s restaurant was nice. You beat his act. This is paradise.”
You find yourself laughing at his rambling as Mr Miyagi just carries on with his work. He barely mutters an “Hai” when Daniel asks, “Did you do this yourself?”
You walk over to join them, staring down as Daniel sits down and picks up the sanders. “Are these bongos? No, I got it.”
You giggle when he starts to sing. Mr Miyagi finally looks up, too, joining in on the laughter. “Daniel-san, you much humour.” You twitch a brow at that same compliment Mr Miyagi had paid you just last night.
“Mr Miyagi, I’m going to head home now.” You walk around them, patting Daniel on the shoulder. “See you around, Danny.”
He looks up, and you momentarily find yourself enjoying the sunlit view of his tanned face and perfectly shaped lips. “You’re not staying?”
“Uh-” You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of it. “No. Probably best I leave you guys to it.”
Daniel looks between you and Miyagi. “But aren’t you, like, still learning, too?”
“Always. But I don’t want to be intruding; this is only your second lesson, after all.” You look back to your teacher, who is smiling at you both. “Mr Miyagi, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You bow to your sensei and then to Daniel. During your bike ride home, you can’t help grinning as you think about your fellow student, especially in that green plaid he’d been wearing.
-
You are sitting with your legs dangling over the edge of the pool when Daniel walks through the complex. “Y/N?”
“Oh, hey, Danny.”
“What’re you doin’ out here” He stops next to the steps and sits down on the lowest one.
“Just enjoying the evening breeze. How was it with Mr Miyagi today?”
You clock the hand he has rested against his shoulder. He moves it around, grimacing. “Um…”
“Something wrong?” You prompt.
“No, it’s just, I-” He stands up again. “What was your second lesson with him?”
You think quickly about how to reply, not wanting to give anything away. “The first few weeks were mostly learning to block and balance. Why?”
Daniel opens and closes his mouth like a fish, wanting to reply but not knowing what to say. “I- Nothin’.”
“What’s the matter, Danny?” You feel a pang of sympathy for him, remembering how bad your shoulders ached after sanding floors all day long. “You okay?”
“Yeah.. yeah, I’m good. Forget it.” He points up to his apartment. “I gotta go. I’ll see you… Well, whenever I do.”
He starts walking up the steps as you move to stand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”
He turns and smiles. “I think I like you calling me 'Danny’, actually.”
“Alright, then. Night, Danny.” You bow to him, and he does the same back, but you stop him before he turns around. “Hey!”
“What?” He looks alarmed.
“When you bow, you must always keep eye contact.” He nods, and then you bow to each other properly before you both head home.
-
Early the next day, you catch Daniel on his way out. “Danny!”
“Y/N.” He runs down the steps to where you’re sitting with Mrs Milo’s dog. You’d said you would sit with him while she stepped out for a few hours. “Hey, pup.” Daniel reaches down to pet the dog, scratching his neck and ears.
“Off to Mr Miyagi’s?”
“Yeah.” He spots your watch as he glances up from the dog. “And I’m late already. See you!” He runs off, waving back at you as he goes.
“Bye!” You yell back, your eyes popping open when you remember it’s just past six in the morning: your neighbours are probably sleeping still. You glance down at the dog, rubbing his head. “Oops.”
-
That same evening, you see Daniel again when you are just about to go into your apartment. You just get your key in the door when you hear his little grunts of pain. “Someone’s home late. Where you been, Danny boy? Hm?”
“At Mr Miyagi’s place.” He glances up and looks somewhat annoyed at your question. “You know that!”
“Oh, sorry.” You hold your hands up in mock surrender, smiling.
“Sorry. Just-”
“Something wrong?”
“I-” Daniel stands at the bottom of the stairs, while you stand at the top, looking down on him while he squeezes his shoulder with one hand, occasionally wincing. “My shoulders just hurt pretty bad.”
“Oh, well, just put some ice or heat on them and get some rest; I’m sure you’ll be just fine. And right as rain for your next lesson, huh?” You nod at him and then spin around, knowing full well that he’s going to call you back.
“Wait, Y/N.” You smirk; your prediction was correct. You turn back around. “Can I ask you something about your training?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Did Mr Miyagi ever- I mean did he ask you to- I mean did you end up doing-”
You raise your brows, tapping your fingers in a patterned sequence against the railing. “Come on, Danny. Get it out.”
He huffs. “Look at this!”
He points to his clothing, particular spots that have splashes of paint on them. Some of it is dried, but other bits are still shiny in the moonlight, showing you that it’s still fresh; and that he hasn’t long finished chore number three. He also turns his head to show the paint smudge that decorates his left ear and the spots that made it into his hair. “I’ve been painting the goddamn fences all night! My shoulders are killing, my legs ache… and I haven’t learned a thing that’s gonna help me in the tournament!”
“What about your other lessons? Maybe this was just something Mr Miyagi needed help with.” You keep up your play-dumb act. “I mean, I did have to go grocery shopping for him a few times.”
“Washing and waxing the cars, sanding the floors…” Daniel sighs, letting the grip on his shoulder go and rotating it in circles, stretching. “I guess he had his first student, and now I’m just the chore boy, the personal assistant, the-”
“Danny,” You climb swiftly down the stairs, putting your finger to his mouth. “Shush. Chill out! Mr Miyagi is a great man. Maybe… maybe he just needed some help with a few things. Stick it out, and help the man who - by the way - saved your life… yes, I know about Halloween, and then just trust me when I say that you won’t regret it. He’s the best teacher I could’ve asked for. Not that I’ve ever known another teacher, but… you get my point.”
“Um,” Daniel follows your finger as you pull it away from his pouty lips. He looks dumbstruck for a while before he collects himself and responds.
“Right. Yeah, yeah. If you say so.”
“I do say so.” Your gaze flicker between Daniel’s eyes and his shoulder. “Can I, um-”
He blinks, his head jerking back a tiny bit, confused. “Can you what?”
“Let me,” You push his so that he turns a little, giving you better access to his pained shoulder. “Here.” You put both hands on the area, watching his face for any non-consensual hesitation. When he doesn’t show any, you start rubbing his skin, kneading like you would with dough. Every couple of seconds, you squeeze his shoulder, trying to ease out any amount of tension and - or - pain. Only a few minutes pass before you start to feel a little bit awkward, but also somewhat comfortable; like taking care of Daniel is something you could possibly enjoy and do each day, every day.
Your eyes widen a little, and you clear your throat. “Uh, any better?”
“Wow.” His moonlight lit cocoa brown eyes have a sparkle to them as your gazes meet this time. “Yeah. Yeah, thank you.”
“It’s fine. So, what are you going to do about Mr Miyagi?”
“I’m gonna meet him tomorrow, of course, I am.”
“Okay,” You feel a little sad for Daniel again. You’d kind of been enjoying the turnaround thus far: watching someone else have to do all of Mr Miyagi’s chores and not knowing why. But Daniel was losing it quicker than you did back when, and you were starting to feel sad for him. You hope more than anything that he keeps showing up so that he can finally see that he’s been learning all along. “Danny, come 'ere.”
“Wh- oh!” Before he can ask what you mean, you throw your arms up and around his neck, pulling him down slightly for a hug. It takes a short moment for him to return the gesture, his own arms coming to circle your waist. “What’s this for?”
You feel the puffs of air as he speaks on your neck, and it sends little tingles running along your scalp, arms and legs. “Just 'cause. Just wishing my friend goodnight, you know?”
“Yeah, okay.” He frowns as you pull away, not meeting his eye now.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Night, Danny.” You run back up the stairs and head back to your apartment. “Don’t go running off yet, okay?”
He nods, and then you are back inside in ten seconds flat, closing the door behind you and wondering why you had suddenly gotten so shy out there. You cover your face with your hands, “damn it.”
“What, honey?” Your Mum makes you jump with her sudden question.
“Nothin’!” You reply.
She looks at you with an amused expression. “Okay, well, get some sleep; you have school tomorrow.”
You nod and then plop yourself down on the sofa. 'Damn it,’ You think. 'I’m crushing on the new kid, aren’t I?’
-
“… maybe next time you’ll get some better bites, huh?” You hop down from Mr Miyagi’s truck, closing the door and waiting for a reply.
He gets down from the passenger’s side and goes to collect his fishing gear from the back. “Miyagi hope so, Y/N-san.”
“Danny!” When you look up, you see Daniel stood on the highest part of the ladder, paintbrush in hand and looking rather tired. “How’s it going up there?”
“Y/N!?”
“Ah, missed spot.” You shake your head at Mr Miyagi, trying not to laugh.
“What spot!?” He climbs down from the ladder and follows you and Mr Miyagi into the garden. “Hey, how come you didn’t tell me you were going fishing?”
“You not here when we go.”
“'We?’ Y/N, you too?” Daniel glares at you, causing you to look surprised. “Maybe I wanted to go, too, didn’t you think of that?”
“You karate training.”
“Danny, you’re supposed to be training.” You and Mr Miyagi both talk at once, chuckling to yourselves afterwards.
Daniel looks between you both like you are crazy. “I’m what!? I’m being your goddamn slave; that’s what’s happening! We made a deal here.”
“So?”
“'So?’ You’re supposed to teach, and I’m supposed to learn.”
You stop when you reach the doors to the house, you catch his hand, trying to get him to stop and calm down with your softened voice. “Danny…”
“No.” He huffs and pulls his hand from your hold. “For four days, I’ve been busting my ass, and I haven’t learned a thing!”
You steal Mr Miyagi’s line, the same one he’d said to you at this point a year ago. “You’ve learned plenty.”
“I’ve learned plenty?” Daniel turns back to Mr Miyagi. “I’ve learned to sand your decks, maybe. I’ve waxed your car, I paint your house, paint your fence. I’ve learned plenty, right.”
“Not everything is as seems.”
Daniel glances at you once again, with his mouth hanging open. He gestures to Mr Miyagi, eyes burning into yours like he is waiting for an explanation from you. You just smirk and nod, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this- this is bullshit!” He turns around, “I’m going home, man!”
“Daniel-san. Daniel-san!” The boom in Mr Miyagai’s voice causes you to jump a little.
Daniel spins around, gripping his shoulder and looking wholly done with everything. “What?”
“Come here.”
You pat Daniel’s back. “And that’s my cue to duck out. See you later!” You disappear into the front yard quickly, hopping onto your bike and heading home, leaving Daniel to his big moment of realisation.
-
The following day, Mr Miyagi called and invited you to join him and Daniel at the beach; it was time for his lesson in balance. You’d rarely uttered the word 'no’ to your teacher in the past, but today was a different story.
“No… I don’t think I can make it, Mr Miyagi.”
“Ah, you have other plans?”
“Uh- no. I just… don’t feel well.”
“Miyagi know when Y/N-san no telling the truth, even through telephone.”
“What? I-”
“Y/N-san, come. We go to the beach: one of your favourite places, ah?”
You hold the phone away from yourself for a second, huffing and then replying. “Okay, fine. I’ll bike there, though, don’t worry about coming to pick me up.”
“Ah!" You can practically hear Mr Miyagi’s glee through the phone. "Very good. See you soon.”
“Okay, bye-bye.”
You put down the phone and get ready to leave as slowly as possible. You had come home last night happy; you were pretty amused at yourself because you got out of there so quickly once Mr Miyagi had called Daniel back. You had been finding all of it somewhat funny. Watching the new student go through all of the chores, slowly getting more and more frustrated before they finally had enough and… well, you were regretting it a little bit now.
Daniel had rejected you when you tried to hold his hand and calm him last night. He’d looked at you like a hurt puppy, and that one evening when he’d complained to you about his aching shoulder: everything was twisting in your mind from a joke to a matter of feeling like a terrible friend. You thought that maybe Daniel would be mad at you for not telling him what was going on, primarily since it had caused him physical pain. But then, you’d also been through the same thing, feeling confused and taken advantage of by an older man who had made you a promise.
You were just messed up in your head, and it probably had a lot to do with the fact that you were also crushing on Daniel now. You sighed loudly, finally ready to go.
-
When you arrived at the beach, you instantly spotted Mr Miyagi’s truck, parked up and empty. You hopped off of your bike and lifted it into the back, knowing that Mr Miyagi wouldn’t mind you doing so and then headed down to the sand.
You felt like running away the second you saw your teacher and fellow student waiting for you. You tried not to meet Daniel’s eye and looked straight to Mr Miyagi instead. He bowed upon you reaching them and then gave out his instructions. “Daniel-san, you go water. Practise kick, learn balance.”
Daniel nodded, taking his headband from his pocket and tying it around his head. Meanwhile, Mr Miyagi turned his attention to you. “You go, too. Practise balance.”
Your eyes popped open. “Wait, what? I didn’t come prepared to get in the water!” You gestured down at your clothes: jeans, a graphic tee and an oversized button-up shirt that was tied around your waist. However, when you looked up again, Mr Miyagi was halfway up the beach, walkings towards the stumps. “Uh, okay. I guess I’m doing it anyway, then.”
You listen, despite your slight annoyance. At the end of the day, you knew that balance was the skill you needed to work on the most. So you walked up to the water, with Daniel following close behind.
With the water barely touching your toes, you rolled up your jeans as far as they would go. Daniel walked into the water first, taking a few steps before stopping and putting his hands on his hips. He looked back at you, yelling, “It’s freezing!”
You simply nodded, walking a few feet away from Daniel and into the water yourself. You shivered at the temperature as you went as far out as you could before the water came up to your knees. It took merely two kicks before you were wiped out by a huge wave. You looked over at Daniel, who was actually doing okay. His kicks weren’t perfect, but he hadn’t fallen yet.
When he noticed you shuffling back onto the squishy sand, he walked closer. “Are you good?”
“Fine.” He offered his hand, but you waved it off, pushing yourself up and simply standing far enough in the water so that you could watch it wash over your feet and disappear again. “Go. I’m fine. Just not really dressed for this right now.”
Daniel frowned but went back to his training anyway.
-
“How did you do that!?”
“How did you do that!?” You and Daniel both freaked out at the same time after watching Mr Miyagi break four beer bottles at once.
The drunk men were the opposite in their reactions, looking rather shocked and possibly scared. They quickly moved the bottles and brushed away the broken glass into a bag along with the rest of their trash.
You follow Mr Miyagi as he gets up into the truck, “Hey, how did you do that?”
“Don’t know. First time.” He looks pleased with himself as you chuckle in disbelief. “Y/N-san, you want ride back?”
“Uh, no. I can just take my bike; it’s okay, I promise.”
“Okay.” He nods. “You come for dinner later?”
“Sure, yeah.”
You bow to each other and then walk to the back of the truck to get your bike. As you do, a gust of wind sweeps over you, causing shivers and goosebumps over your skin.
“Why don’t you have a towel?” Daniel asks then, coming up beside you.
“It’s like I said, I didn’t really come prepared to go in the sea.”
“Here,” he tries to wrap his towel around you, but you shove him away. “Wh-? I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah… and then you’ll be the one freezing instead, idiot.”
“Oh, so last night I was 'Danny’, and now I’m 'idiot’, huh?” He wraps the towel around you successfully the second time, not letting you push him away. “Here. We’ll share.”
You roll your eyes, sighing, but grabbing on to the end of the towel anyway, pulling it around you a little more. “Thanks.”
“What’s up with you, anyway? Something wrong?”
Your head whips around to look up at him. “What? Why?”
“You were all helpful the other night and today; it’s like you hate me all of a sudden.”
You huffed and looked away again.
“Mr Miyagi, Y/N and me want to stay here a little while… if that’s okay.” Your eyes widen as Daniel leans onto the window of the truck, letting go of the towel so that it hangs on you only.
“Wait-” Daniel shush you by simply raising his hand. Mr Miyagi lets him know that it’s just fine before he shuffles into the driver’s seat and is gone before you know it. “I- my bike…”
“Come on, Y/N, we’ll just walk back. It’s not that far.”
“But-”
“Come on, let’s just go and sit down for a little bit.” You follow him to the stone wall, where you both sit, dangling your legs over the edge. “So what’s up?”
“You.” You blurt out.
Daniel laughs. “Wait, why me? What did I do?”
“It’s what I did.”
“You’re really confusing me, Y/N.”
You turn around then, finally meeting his eye and trying to act tough. “Why aren’t you annoyed at me? I didn’t tell you about the lessons! I kept it secret and watched you suffer through all those damn chores when I knew all along, and just- ugh- you should so mad that I didn’t tell you-”
“That’s it!?” Daniel shuts you up by raising his own voice to get your attention back; it works. “That’s why you’re acting so strange? Man, you are weird.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Weirdo.”
“Wow.” You scoff. “I really shouldn’t have felt so bad about it.”
“No, you shouldn’t. It’s not a huge deal, Y/N. At least I know now.”
“But I still feel bad. You looked more annoyed than I did at that point last night.”
“Hey, wait.” Daniel frowns, knocking his knee into yours. “Did you curse at Mr Miyagi too?”
“Uh- yes! Of course. I also accused him of making me his little worker bee.” You laugh. “Although, it took me a little longer. I had one more lesson before I went nuts.”
“Which was?” Daniel prods.
“I’m not telling! You’ll find out soon enough.”
“But you just made a big deal out of feeling bad for not telling me about the chores!”
“And you just said it wasn’t a big deal!”
“Ugh.” Daniel huffs.
“Ugh.” You copy him.
You look out at the sea for a moment, watching it glitter in the sunlight. Then you close your eyes and flashback to training with Mr Miyagi on the cliffs. “He’ll teach you kata soon. I really love that; it’s… relaxing.”
“Really?” You nod, and then you start to feel awkward again as Daniel continues to look at you without saying anything further.
“What?”
Daniel shrugs. “Nothin’.” He looks away again but keeps looking back every couple of seconds. You’re about to say something when he suddenly stands up. “Oh! I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah…” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a headband. It’s black with a white line pattern that forms star shapes throughout.
“Mr Miyagi, let me have this one,” he adjusts his own as he mentions it, “but I noticed that you haven’t worn one yet. So… I’m hoping you don’t have one already. Otherwise, this is a terrible gift. Do you have one already? 'Cause I’ll just go and bury myself in the sand if this is the worst gift ever.”
“Danny, the ramble king, is back, I see. Shut up and give me the damn thing!”
“Uh, if you’re gonna be rude, then no.” He moves it away, but you snatch it from his hands and tie it around your head straight away. “Does it look good?”
“Looks great.”
You fiddle with it until it feels right, then smile up at your friend. “Thanks, Danny.”
“Does the nickname mean we’re good? You’re not mad at me for being mad at you, even though I wasn’t mad at you, to begin with?”
“I can’t believe I understood that. But we’re better than good.”
“Okay.” Daniel sits back down, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he sits closer this time, your arms and legs pressed against each other.
“Good. 'Cause, there’s something I wanna ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“There isn’t some teacher or co-worker style of a rule that says two karate students can’t go out… right?” Your eyes widen, and your full attention is on Daniel, watching his talk as he looks out to sea and slowly sneaks his hand over to cover yours. “Right?”
“Uh, I don’t think there is, actually.”
“So?”
You try to sustain the grin that threatens to show itself on your face. “Gold 'N’ Stuff?”
“What?”
“For our date? On… Saturday?”
“Uh- yes! Saturday’s my birthday. Talk about the best birthday ever!” Daniel’s fist pumps the air, and you can’t hold back your laughter at his dork nature.
“Pick me up at 7?”
“You got it.”
You smile again, reaching up to take his chin between your fingers and turning him to face you once more. You glance at his lips and then up to his eyes, asking for permission. He looks surprised, but he nods before putting his free hand on your neck and pulling you in for a soft, sweet and utterly too short of a kiss. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away, eyes closed.
Daniel sighs before saying, “the chores and achy arms were worth it to get to meet you, you know, Y/N.”
Here’s my honesty, then: I am afraid of being known. I swallow my tongue when I smile, and the right words never come to me when people cry. I’m sure someday I will suffocate on my regrets. I killed someone once, though they refuse to stay dead, and blood pours from my eyes when I beat them back in their grave. I think I used to know them, but I cannot remember their name. I am afraid of being seen, perhaps not in the way you would think—would you stay, if I showed you where I buried them? It is not your truth, but the only truth I know: that some days I feel barely human.
imagine not understanding that malcolm bright is a victim of circumstances and psychological torture who has severe ptsd just so you can be like “good for her” to ainsley who is clearly being written as an actual villian for what she has done and is doing. malcolm wasn’t right to lie to her, but he wasn’t gaslighting her because gaslighting is a specific kind of manipulation with insidious intent. lying is part of gaslighting, but not all lying IS gaslighting. malcolm did hide what ainsley did, but he did not do it to hurt her. he did it to save her. to save her the trauma of what she did, because he thought she would feel as crushingly guilty as he does - which she CLEARLY does not. he did it to take the fall for her despite it costing him everything, including his sense of self.
if he were gaslighting her, it would be to hurt her and control her. also, an important factor is that he comes to the conclusion on his own that keeping the truth from her was wrong, he apologizes and promises her that he will be there. if he were truly gaslighting her, he would not have done that. he would have shifted the blame on her for his lies. but he didn’t. then we see ainsley actually gaslight him by making him think that she killed a second person. she literally did this to torture him emotionally.
men can be victims, and it is important to see a male character be as open and emotionally vulnerable about trauma the way malcolm is. it’s refreshing to see him say he has trauma, to know it isn’t his fault and to cry openly about it. plus, in that moment we are supposed to be realizing that ainsley doesn’t love or care about malcolm. she is a killer just like their father. it is not a #yas queen moment and if you think it is you probably watched midsommar wrong too. malcolm isn’t perfect, but he isn’t meant to be. he is a traumtized individual making the best of his situation without getting any breaks in the process. he is bound to make mistakes along the way. but he isn’t malicious. that’s the point.
Very true! Might I add that one of the goals of gaslighting is to make the person being gaslighted doubt their own ability to distinguish the truth from the lies in order to eventually make that person dependent on the gaslighter for the “truth.” While I think Malcolm lying to Ainsley may have had a similar effect due to her memories coming back which were contradictory to what he was telling her (remember in 2x04 when she said “I feel like I’m going insane”?), Malcolm definitely didn’t do it to make Ainsley dependent on him (which is what Martin would have done) - he literally says in 2x07 that he did to “save [her] pain.” One could argue he lied to Jessica about it too to save her the pain of finding out that another member of her family, “perfect, nontraumatized” Ainsley, was a killer.
Lying to Jessica and Ainsley and covering up Endicott’s murder are all mistakes that Malcolm has made, some with bad consequences to come if the 2x08 promo is anything to go by, but he didn’t do any of it maliciously, certainly didn’t enjoy any of it (I don’t believe the “flashbacks” in 2x01 are actually what happened - more what Martin is planting in Malcolm’s mind), it has caused him severe emotional pain, and once he realized he’d made a mistake and he needed to rectify that, he apologized in person to Ainsley, comforted her and offered her support. And Ainsley, already having set up her sick “prank”, went ahead with it anyway. She watched her brother breaking down in front of her, made him worried on purpose all day by ignoring him, made smart remarks about him in front of their aunt and their mother and expressed no remorse. Honestly, I’m no expert so I don’t know if Ainsley is a sociopath or what, but I do think that this could be a dark path that the writers are setting her down on (but I’m here for that because I like dark female characters).
Halo s01e09:“She Kidnapped Us! She Tortured And Brainwashed Us, Turned Us Into Weapons. Now She’s Turning Us Against Each Other.[…]No Matter What They’ve Done To Us,We’re All We Have Now. It’s Just Us.”
“Tragedy. What else can I call it? What more need be said? The damage, the destruction. You saw it with you own eyes. When will people wake up and realize that everywhere Spider-Man goes chaos and calamity ensue? Everything Spider-Man touches comes to ruin. And we, the innocents, are left to pick up the pieces.”
The whumpee hadn’t been allowed to process what they’d gone through, they’d been in a leadership position before and they’d been thrust back into it after their rescue- they feel like they can’t just grieve because they’d be letting people down. The rest of the team don’t even realize that their leader is barely holding it together, as far as they know they’re as strong as ever.
Sidekick didn’t sleep all night. When the morning sun broke through his window, the anticipation was painful. Any second, now, Hero would go downstairs to find Villain missing. And then what? Would he be able to claim innocence? Would it even matter? He would be in deep trouble, no matter what he did. He watched the minutes tick by on his alarm clock.
5 am. He got hungry, but didn’t dare to move out of his bed. If he just stayed here, under the blankets, maybe he could delay the inevitable a little longer.
6 am. He tried to remember how kind Hero had been last night. It was just like before Villain arrived. It would be difficult for a moment, but he was sure Hero would calm down eventually.
7 am. He was probably going to have a terrible headache from the serum. Sidekick winced at the poor timing.
When he heard Hero scream his name at 8 am, he was flooded with relief and a nauseating fear. There it was.
He curled up tighter under the blankets, shuddering in fright, as he heard Hero storm up the stairs. The bedroom door hit the wall, and he flinched.
“Where the fuck is he?” Hero yelled, still wearing his pyjama and dressing gown. His curls were unstyled, which only made him look more explosive with anger. Sidekick sat up and pretended to wipe sleep from his eyes, like he’d just been startled awake.
“Wh-Hero? What do you mean, where is who?”
Hero’s dark blue eyes were alight with fury. His mouth was a tight line, and he stomped over to where Sidekick sat.
“Don’t you dare play dumb with me,” he hissed. “I can smell the guilt on you, and this is your last chance before I really get angry. Where is he?”
Sidekick held up his hands, and pressed his back against the bedroom wall.
“Please, Hero, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I haven’t done anything, I swear!”
He had to at least try to insist on his innocence. But just like he feared, that only made Hero angrier.
– tw;; pet whump, captivity whump, multiple whumpees, caretaker new master, mild angst (?), references to training, long paragraphs –
I think there was something you saw, walking down that street. You were staring endlessly, breathlessly, until you inhaled sharply. Stabbing through my thoughts like a dull knife and pulling down to make me see the tears wetting your shirt. I reached out to dry it off, to make the stain disappear before Master came back. You turned to me but never met my eye and I apologized. You weren’t quiet. You were crying, right on my shoulder where the tears moved to fall on my sweatshirt. The one you gave me that night, when I was covered in water. And blood. The blood still stained because you couldn’t wash it out. Master said it was fine. He’d buy a new one. But I denied. I denied because I was scared that the new one would get stained the same way. He nodded with a fake smile. I wish his smile was more like yours. Warm and familiar. Yours is sweet and real. Calm and soothing. Adjective and adjective. Theres too many ways to describe how I feel about you. There’s been many ways others have described how they feel about me. None of those could apply to you. For you, the opposite is real. I wish today was the opposite, so that you’d be smiling again. Smiling and telling me how you thought the bug you saw on a leaf in the garden had cute horns. They weren’t horns, Master corrected you. I don’t care what they are, or what they’re called. But in the moment I wish I did.
If I told you all I knew about the bugs in the garden, would you look in my eyes and smile again? Or compliment me on my knowledge of animals? Perhaps that would distract you from the pain you are in. I distract myself with thoughts. Endless thoughts that endlessly run through my mind. They pause when you look at me, and huff with a smile. I don’t know why you huff. Are you the one running through my mind? It feels like you’ve been occupying a space in my head all along. A space I thought would remain empty. I shouldn’t think. My thoughts are always wrong. That’s what the trainers said. And repeated. They always repeated it. They repeated it until I repeated it. I have too many thoughts. I think too much. That’s what they always say. No. No not the trainers. The people. The people you stare at so intently when they walk by on the street. The ones that made you cry when you looked at their faces but I didn’t know why. Why would you cry looking at someone without a face? Maybe you don’t like faceless people. If you don’t like faceless people then why don’t you look at me? I have eyes you can stare at, a nose you can touch yours with and lips that allow us to talk.
I want you to stare at me. I need you to look in my eyes with that deep gaze you always seem to have. You’re always looking. You’re attentive and alert. Your mind isn’t occupied by unnecessary thoughts like mine. You didn’t need to be told to stop thinking because your mind doesn’t hold your thoughts but your eyes do. They don’t look at your eyes the way you look at theirs. And mine. You look at mine so differently. I don’t want them to look deep into your eyes and occupy place in your mind. I want to take a spot in your mind the same way you took one in mine. Or perhaps I’m incapable of that. You’re capable of so many more things. You know what to do and when to do them. You follow the commands of the faceless people so much better then I do. If I claim a spot in your mind, can I learn to be so great? Perhaps you’ll look deep in my eyes and teach me.
I want you to open your eyes and allow me to dry the tears running down your cheeks. They fall past your lips like they aren’t there. I see its there. You use it to talk to me, and tell me how I feel. You know how to do that. You’re good at telling me what is important to think because I think too much and those thoughts trample over what is important for me to know. You tell me I need to know my emotions. You said you would help me know. I want to know your emotions. I want to know how you feel, how you think and how you’re so good. When I cry you hug me and tell me its alright. I do the same for you. I hold you closer and closer. Your hair is getting in my eyes and mouth but I do not know if I should care. I decide not to care. You hug me back, the weight of your arms keeping me connected to the ground and reminding me to care about the cold tiles beneath us and the footsteps that echo off it. But I chose not to care about our Master crouching down beside you, slowly petting your head. I want to be the one doing that but I didn’t think of doing that because nobody told me I needed to.
I think you’re important enough to care for me to about. You’re important enough for me to care about. You’re important. You’re important to me. Am I important to you? Do you think about me? Am I important enough to think about? Am I important enough for you to care about? Or are those thoughts about me a discard-able thing like I am. Will you discard me from your mind? Will you push me away and look me in my eyes while telling me that I’m no longer fun? People have told me that many times. It’s okay. You can be honest. You can tell me how you feel. I need to know how you feel. I need to know that you’re alright. Or that you’re not, so I know to make you feel alright. Your words make me feel okay. I hope mine do the same for you.
When the usually calm protector-character has been hurt, betrayed, and disappointed one too many times, and they attack their friend out of pure pain. They slam the friend down, screaming and crying all their bottled emotions out, maybe rough the friend up a little; and then collapse next to them, sobbing. The friend, horrified at the emotion they had no idea the protector had been bottling up, tries to comfort them. It may or may not work, because now, the protector doesn’t only feel pain and anger; they feel guilt too. And that guilt may be even harder for them to let go of than the initial pain.
“Why don’t you accept that you’re human too ?! We all make mistakes you don’t have to torture yourself over them !”
Hero raised his voice unintentionally, with Villian not being able to react as fast as he once did. Shaking his head as he forced himself to keep going.
“Because I’m a monster, like you - and everyone else said,”
Hero felt his heart break, was he what caused this sudden decline ?
“No you’re not - I should’ve been trying to help you..not fight you - I made it worse with all of this ! You’re not a monster ! You’re just misguided and I can help you if you just let me,”
“If you feel good doing good, why do you look so miserable ?”
“Miserable ? What do you mean ? I’m not-“
“Oh save your breath, I can sense the internalized insecurities and depression from here, been through some shit - want to protect others because no one protected [hero] when they needed it the most,”
“….”
“How was that ? Did I hit just in the right spot ? Did I get it correct ?”
“Everything I touch feels light and weightless, and then the moment I can hold it to keep it, to get to know it - When I can somehow get close to it,, it’s gone. And then I’m alone with my thoughts all over again,”
