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UmiHoshi
Fangirling, brb
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
Netherlands
Name: UmiHoshi
Age: 24
Gender: Female
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They found out some day in early June. Fuck that day. It was better if it hadn't existed....

"Oh! Yasutomo, I didn't knew you were good at sewing!" Shinkai's voice ringed as if he totally believes I was waiting to be praised.
Clicking my tongue, I hid the jersey I was trying to fix, as if that would completely hide all the evidence.
"Shuttup and mind your own business." I sneered.

"I think it's endearing."
"HaH!?"

"This is quite unexpected. I was so sure there was absolutely nothing cute about Arakita." Toudou mingled in, as if his opinion would matter.
I sighed exasperated and decided to just continue what I was doing, since: fuck them.
"When my mom's out and the brats destroy something, they cry until I fix it. It's not like it looks pro-level or anything. Anyone with 2 hands could do this much."
My halve-arsed explanation was nothing to stop Shinkai and Toudou from probing me around and pissing the fuck out of me, though.
But that wasn't the worst.
I could stand it, with a sour face,
That is, until HE joined in on the conversation.
I first thought Fuku-chan was gonna help me out and get those two nerds off of my back, but.....

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU KEEPING YOUR OWN JERSEY OUT FOR!!??"
He pointed.
"I CAN SEE THERE'S A HOLE! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT!!??? HUH!??"

And it's since that fucking day that Fuku-chan always comes to me whenever he damages any of his clothing.
And I'm always that much of a dumbass to fix it for him.
Damn it, Fuku-chan. This is what I mean with asking too much.
Also, was it just me or..... Did they end up getting more damaged every time???

With some annoyed grunting, I followed Fuku-can home.
It had finally gotten to the point where I can't fix them in just a few minutes.
If I take his jersey to my place, there's big chance my sisters'll just tear it more.
So, as Fuku-chan said, he would 'take responsibility'. And now I was in his house.
"Make yourself at home; I will go get us something to drink."
"You know I only drink one thing."
"I know."
What? So Fuku-chan actually had Bepsi in house?
The convenient store was too far to just get some and Fukutomi or any of his family members hardly seemed the type to drink it.
So does that mean the stone-face had planned to invite me over?
"Real smooth, Fuku-chan...."
"hmn? "
"Nothin'."
"Ah. Before I leave...." He went to his closet and got out....
.....ANOTHER FUCKING RIPPED SHIRT!
"Who'd you think I am, Cinderella!!??"
He nodded. He fucking NODDED!!
This fucking actual piece of fruitcake......
"I will get you that drink." He left. and I shit you not, he had a tiny smirk on his face.

"This guy was born to torment me..." I grumbled as I continued mending his fucking shirt.
He all but pulled the zipper off. Zippers are always a pain.
I held the jersey out in front of me, to check if there were more holes and stuff on it.
Just a few marks I fixed before.... good...
My eyes glided over to the collar of his uniform. Fuku-chan's clothing size was marked on it.
Fuku-chan sure is huge. that's 2 sizes bigger than mine.
Well he IS very muscled.....
......
Staring at the jersey for a while, some thoughts passed my mind.
He didn't wash this one, did he?
He tore it during today’s training... to start with, washing a damaged shirt'd only make it worse.
so....

......

Heh.. Arakita Yasutomo, how you have fallen.
Then again, I've always had a thing with smells.
Looking around me like I was about to commit a crime,
I could only think 'ah, fuck it all!' and stuffed the shirt in my face.

Waiting a few seconds, hardly daring and internally scolding myself,
I eventually took a deep breath and sighed in the shirt.
It was definitely Fuku-chan's smell....
It was a bit sweet and salty. and some traces of his shampoo.
Okay. That was enough!.......or maybe not...
Taking another deep breath, I felt my muscles relax.
mmhrrr.... This is what it smells like, being close to Fuku-chan.
Yeah. I could totally pull off to a smell like t--
"-Also, Arakita." it sounded behind him.
"--WHAT!???" I didn't know how fast to pull the shirt away from my face.
fuck..... fuck fuck fuck. Did he see that!?

"....?" Tilting his head slightly, Fuku-chan looked like one would to a cat who knows he just totally pushed a vase off the table.
But he let it slide. he hadn't noticed anything. or at least hadn't consider it to be abnormal.
(At this point in time, Fukutomi is the only one unaware of Arakita's major crush on him.)
"Also, Arakita." He repeated.
"I heard you the first time."
"........"
a 3rd shirt..... a 3rd fucking shirt. there was an apple logo sewed on it and it was coming off.
"you--...ugh.." I face palmed, giving up completely. No one can stop this big-ass idiot.
I took it from him, resigning to even complain anymore.

"Arakita...." he spoke once more, after handing me my Bepsi and was staring at how I was fixing his stuff.
"What? It’s not another shirt is it???" I would not even be surprised anymore if it was, though.
"......thank you."
"--??......"
I pulled my eyes away from the sewing and stared at him.
Fukutomi didn't repeat himself. I know well enough by now that his gratitude and praise are rare.
But he was gazing at me intensely. Whenever he did say things like that, he absolutely means it.
"ah-..h....hmm..." I nodded, my voice failing me.
I guess... this isn't so bad...


"Does my shirt smell bad?"
"ah-!!! t-that was--"
Shit!
I really like sprouting my anime nonsense-- knowledge around.
so if you'd like me to recommend you a nice anime, maybe leave a description of what you're looking for in a comment?
:happy: 
  • Mood: Neglect
Kaito Puri Tsubame is back by UmiHoshi
Kaito Puri Tsubame is back
I'm trying to write more Tsubame again, after 3 years. I hope I can finish it this time =v=

for anyone who doesn't know of it (which I don't doubt are A LOT of people, since it's been 3 years...)
you can read the story on DA and on FF.net
will be uploaded on AO3 soon aswell.

Kaito Puri Tsubame is a Prince of Tennis AU set in London, 1940.
Tezuka Kunimitsu is a reporter on the case of England's latest sensation: A dashing and cunning Phantom Thief.
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Clipped Wings

June 6th

“Are you…. Alright?” was the first question Fuji tried to ask tactfully.

Atobe grunted annoyed. “Who do you take me for, ahn? Something like this is a walk in the park to me.

I had hoped it to be cleaner, though….”

Normally, a suspect wasn’t allowed to have visitors.

But Atobe was a powerful man with connections.

Oshitari was a close friend of the family too. No coincidence, of course.

So Fuji had 15 minutes of precious time to talk the matter over with his father.

Tezuka had urged to come along, but Fuji refused.

There were things only he and his father ought to know, after all…

“When’s the trial?”

Atobe leaned back. “It’s going to take a while. Could be a month or two.

It’s because that damned war is taking everyone’s time.”

Atobe’s eyes shifted to his son.

“Listen, Syu…. Yuuta’s on my lip and won’t let me go any time soon.

I don’t want you on and about in a town at war, without your father by your side.”

Fuji frowned worried. Of course, his father was saying this to protect his and Tsubame’s secret, not because of the war. But you’d never know who was listening along.

“What… do you want me to do then?”

Atobe paused.

“…. Go to your sister… Go back to Japan.”

Fuji stared at his father, his mind blanked out.

Away? Back to Japan?

But… what about father?

What about Tsubame?

What about Yuuta and Oshitari?

…… Tezuka..

 

When arriving at Tezuka’s apartment, the older was already waiting for him in the door opening.

Fuji sighed and dumped his head against his friend’s chest.

“How did it go?” Tezuka asked.

“Hnnn…” Fuji snuggled.

Tezuka took him along inside, without letting go of him.

“So… What happened?”

“…..” Fuji forced a smile on his face.

“It’s fine… just a misunderstanding… it’s going to take a while, though.

....Actually, I can't stay for too long. There's a lot I have to arrange with my dad's business partners and such."

Tezuka frowned. He was a man who valued responsibilities, so he didn't disagree to Fuji wanting to help his father the best he could, but...

"Then... I'll come with you."

"No." Fuji averted his eyes. "uhm... If you want to help me, then... wait for me here for a while. I'll be back soon, really."

Tezuka stared at him. He felt skeptical about the matter. Something was off with how Fuji was behaving. Of course, the arrest of his father was getting to him.. but there was something more then just that….

"well... Alright. But do come back soon. Will you promise me?"

Two blue eyes looked up at him.

And Tezuka knew from that look. He knew Fuji couldn't make such a promise!

The boy pinched his eyes into his usual smile. "Of course."

"......."

"I'll come back as soon as I can, then... Bye bye."

He turned off and left.

 

"....tsk."

Tezuka never thought he'd one day have to use his skills as a reporter to stalk his lover.

He was in luck that Fuji chose to walk the distance rather than to take the bus.

Thinking about it... If Fuji's house was really on walking distance, he must have played the 'last bus' talk as an excuse to stay over.

Did Fuji already like him back then?

Then there was all the more reason for Tezuka to wonder why the other was keeping secrets from him like this.

To be honest, Tezuka had wanted to get mad at him, right then and there.

But his enigmatic boyfriend was a tough nut to crack if it comes down to things he doesn't want others to know.

So even if he were to be thought of as a creepy stalker, this was the only solution Tezuka could think of.

Fuji led him to his house. It was a big land house, typical to Atobe's style.

Tezuka doubted if Fuji has had any saying in the matter of interior.

With a little trouble, Tezuka broke in through a window.

The house was..... completely empty?

 

Tezuka didn't understand. Why would Fuji's house be empty like this?

Carefully, to not make a sound, he headed for the room where Fuji was.

The boy looked....surprisingly calm.

He was writing something down.

A letter?

The youngster looked up. Fuji's eyes were keen and his ears were sharp.

Shock. Despair even. And a small hint of hope was reflected in his eyes as he spotted Tezuka.

".....What is the meaning of this?" The taller man walked towards him.

Fuji gazed down."....The house is empty."

"I can see that. Why?" Tezuka urged. His patience was running out.

Fuji had been lying about something. And had been hiding things...

"Niou took care of everything; I don't know what he did with our items."

"Niou?....That is not my point. 'Why' are they gone?"

"......."

"Fuji!"

"......" Fuji's small frame looked fragile.

"....I'm sorry... I lied to you...I lied to you, over and over and over again."

Tezuka tried to calm himself. Yelling at the boy wouldn't help.

"Fuji.... does this have to do with your father's arrest? If we just wait patiently, he'll be released. He's innocent, right?"

"......" Fuji seemed to doubt between turning off or facing the man in front of him. He chose the latter.

"Tezuka.... I am not who I've claimed to be.

I'm a liar....

And a thief..."

Tezuka's eyes grew wide for a moment, but he regained his senses soon enough and grabbed the boy's upper arms.

"Don't take me for a fool.... Don't pretend that I don't know what you are like."

".... then..."

"....You are him.... aren't you?"

Fuji smiled. "What makes you think that?"

"Nothing. All evidence work against me. But I know you are.....I had hoped you were..."

Fuji crumbled the letter in his hand.

Tezuka noticed and gently took it from his clutched hand.

It was a simple letter. Addressed to him.

 

Dear Tezuka,

Sorry.
I am Tsubame.

With love,
Your Fuji Syusuke.

                                

"Farewell. My love."

“--!!??”

Great kaitou Tsubame chap 23
first: [link]
previous: [link]
next:

in two weeks from now, it'll be 3 years since I last updated this story.
wow, so many things have happened since then and I just couldn't get myself to continue. for one, I lost all contact with my co-writter.
but I'm in a terrible writting mood right now! and letting it end like this is a shame!
of course, I don't know how long that'll last, hahah;;;;

there's still the part coming up where I have absolutely no clue how to write it. but there's still time before that. I hope I can ask some friends for help by then.....

It's sorta weird how I DID have this part uploaded on FF.net, but not here. go figure....
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February 12th 1955, Lundy

Second press

 

Where should I begin with this story?

I, of all people, should know it best, no?

For this is my story. The story of a young reporter and an unforgettable meeting.

If I tell you the name of ‘phantom thief the Swallow’, I don't doubt some of you might remember that name. Though I will not be as vain as to believe that the real story will ring a bell immediately.

Actually, I believe that there are only few who know the truth. For instance, no one these days recalls that his true name was 'Tsubame'. For both he and I were Japanese. Something no longer very acceptable in the London of these days.

But I'm drifting off. Let's start at the start. It should be a little longer then 15 years ago.

The day where a reporter met a phantom thief.

 

Meeting under the moonlight.

January 6th 1940, London

 

"Tezuka!" a heavy voice shrieked. Said person was sitting behind a desk, his pen in his mouth, staring at a halve full paper. His gaze moved to the door as he recognized the voice.

"Sanada...?"

The man in the door opening looked somewhat excited for his normal doing. He slammed on the desk.

"The Big Ben. I want you on the scene! Hurry up." He practically pushed Tezuka out of his office.

Not quite knowing what his superior was talking about, Tezuka just let the man push pen, paper and camera in his hands. "err.... I see. I'll go then."

A little out of his routine because of Sanada, Tezuka grabbed his coat.

Something going on at the Big Ben? Tezuka didn't expect much out of it. After all, there were far more important things going on in the world right now. There was war. Germany has had free game, because of the appeasement politics of both England and France. But it had gone too far and since September, the war was declared.

He doubt that the Big Ben had any connection to these important events. Perhaps the reconstruction was finished, because of the fire in October 1934?

 

But as he arrived at the scene, he saw a large amount of police officers. A little surprised, Tezuka tried to converse with one of them. But only to be told to go away.

Tezuka noticed that it was not the Big Ben that was of concern, but rather, a small museum located next to it. What could have happened? Perhaps a murder scene....

As a reporter, it was very unlikely for Tezuka to give up, and so, he searched for an entrance into the building.

With little trouble, he managed to work his way up on an unsurveillanced fire case.

Inside, it was damp and pitch black. An outage?

He heard ruckus outside. Had something happened?

'The tower!' he heard.

Dang it! He should have stayed focused on the tower after all!

He made way for the door, but it proved to be quite a task in the darkness. It was already late and the only place to enlighten the area was a window.

Tezuka moved towards it, to open its curtains.

But as he wished to do so, the window blew open on its own. A strong gust of wind entered, making Tezuka pinch his eyes. It was cold. But somehow, the wind felt very soft as well. Like it was somehow.... Predicting something....

 

"My...." He heard from behind him. Tezuka froze to the ground. He was not alone anymore.

But the sound of the voice was not hostile. It wasn't a police member either. But it send shivers down his spine.

"It seems you're not part of the police. Sightseeing?" Tezuka dared to turn his head. In the dusk of the moonlight he could notice a figure. It was perhaps nothing more but a youngster in his eyes, judging on his height and shape. But Tezuka could detect a long black cape and a white mask which he hid his face with.

"If you're not with the police, would you be so kind as to stand slightly closer to the door? I'm a little busy." Indeed, the boy seemed to be fussing with a lock of what seemed a safe.

"Who... are you?" Tezuka dared to ask. He could hear a small chuckle.

"You came here, not knowing? My my, quite interesting." A soft click was heard and the boy opened the safe. Inside where many things, seemingly of great value, judging on how they shimmered in the moonlight. There were also paintings.

But the boy took nothing more but a simple ring, not even seeming of much worth.

Without breaking much more sweat or bothering to even close the safe, he head back for the window.

"o-oi, wait!"

"Hn?" The boy turned his head to Tezuka. "Are you after all planning on stopping me," he glanced at the camera, ", Reporter-san?”

"No.. err... I...... who are you?" Tezuka just repeated.

He smirked and jumped on the window-frame. "Have you... ever heard what a phantom thief is?" He asked him.

Tezuka was in a daze. He couldn't answer him. He weakly managed to press the button of the camera, mostly out of instinct. His aim couldn't be more off... But perhaps he'd have some use to it later.

The thief smiled, seeing as to how perplexed Tezuka was and jumped out of the window.

"There he is! After him!" Tezuka heard faintly from outside. He could slightly feel his muscles working again. He head towards the emergency exit before the police would rush in and see him as a suspect.

 

What now? It was already late. Should he just head home?

But the adrenaline drove him back towards the office. He had to write. Write what has just happened.

He had the keys, so he got himself inside easily. It was harder to find the light button. Seeing as to how dark the office was, he felt another chill.

It had been so thrilling to stand eye in eye with a thief. Anything could have happened in that dark room. He didn't seem to have been armed and the boy had even looked quite relaxed.... But you never know.

Tezuka sat behind his desk, uneasily biting his pen. He considered what he could and could not write. After all, if he wrote too much, he'd be suspicious of being his cohort.

Tezuka kicked underneath his desk, slightly frustrated. But what he kicked didn't feel like the wall.

"Puri."

"n-Niou!? Were you sleeping underneath my desk again!?" Tezuka shot backwards. The sleepy face of one of the editors appeared from underneath the desk.

"It's so much more comfortable then mine or Yagyuu's... Back from the scene? How was it?"

"ah...that's err..."

Niou grinned. "You've seen him, huh?"

Tezuka moved back to the desk, leaning both his elbows on it. "Just who was that? He claimed to be a phantom thief, but..."

Niou sat on the desk. "Kaitou Tsubame.... Up until now, he's made a move 3 times. Every time he did so, he has left a notice at the police with time and date, yet they couldn't catch 'im. His intentions aren't really all that clear. I guess he's just a plain thief like all the other bunch... but he's a damned good one."

On that moment, the other editor, Yagyuu, entered. "Niou-kun!" as he saw Tezuka, he frowned a little troubled. "Tezuka-kun... Has he caused you any trouble again?"

"ah, no, not really.... this time..."

Yagyuu pushed his hand against the back of Niou's head and made him bow along with himself. "I apologize for him being an idiot."

"ah.... That's alright." Tezuka frowned.

"We'll be taking our leave. Please take good care of yourself, Tezuka-kun." Yagyuu shoved Niou out of the room.

Tezuka stared back at the empty sheet of paper in front of him.

"Tsubame...." he mumbled.

He took his pen and wrote:

 

'Swallow's Flight.

January 6th 1940, London

At the clock tower of Westminster, at a little past 20:00, he was spotted. The great thief Tsubame who has yet to fail his ambitions. -'

 

Great kaitou Tsubame chap 1
Edit: changed format to make reading easier, fixed some spellings and changed some things.
I'm planning to continue this one. but I dunno how far I'll get.

Chapter 2: umihoshi.deviantart.com/art/Gr…

I'm quite satisfied on how much I recalled from the roleplay DC and I had. the only thing I believe that has changed is the conversation Tezuka had with Niou. still, for the rest of the story, it might come in hand that I enlighten Niou a little more. I hope you don't mind, DC-chan? ^^'
It's been a while since I've last written something again. I've noticed it asks a lot out of me. I can't type halve as fast as I'd want to and my brain works faster then my hands.
Still, I hope I'll be able to finish it. on contraire to Dreams of Destruction, I have this story pretty much already complete in my head. and if I have troubles recalling, I can ask DC ^^

this story is pretty much inspired on all the phantom thiefs I know, so don't go shouting 'hey, that's like Dark!' because it also has elements of Kaito Kid for the tricks, Kaitou Kurobara for the motivation (no, not really ^^' ) and even a little bit of the playfulness of Kaitou X... though Fuji has that of himself too. If I had to say 1 thief whom he resembles the most, it'd be Kid. also, Tezuka is a little bit like Cona- *gets hit* err... Shinichi =w=''''

I had to search internet a lot about information on London in 1940. The fire of 1934 is true and the appeasement politics is too. I was at least very happy that the Big Ben already existed for about 85 years =w=''' (I first read 1959, in stead of 1859 and I panicked xD damn you dyslection =w=# )

add: Even though all the names are Japenese, Tezuka, Tsubame and Fuji are the only actual Japanese.

Tsubame is Japanese for swallow and is inspired by Fuji's second counter 'Tsubame Gaeshi' (Swallow's return)

edit: the war was already going on, so I changed it

character (c) Prince of Tennis
story (c) Dream--Catcher and me
writing and image (c) me
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