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fandomweekly2026-04-25 10:16 pm
arknes) wrote in fandomweekly2026-04-25 10:16 pm
Entry tags:
[#298] Consternation (Ayatsuri Sakon)
Theme Prompt: #298 – Disappearance
Title: Consternation
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes.
WC: 997
Summary: Sakon finds Zenkichi after three years.
Notes: I'm back y'all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
The golden ginko trees of Osaka swayed in the wind. The edges of the roads held mounds of piled leaves, and under the arch of two trees sat the entrance to an alleyway. Sakon watched the sky turn cold in the matter of minutes as the light of the sun slipped from the sky.
This was where it said he lived. Sakon stared down the alleyway, and Ukon stared down to it. His bright blue eyes dimmed as his eyes flickered to Sakon.
Sakon was not solitary by nature. Of course, he took Zenkichi’s ghost act the hardest. The kid had finally gotten a friend—or something like it—and like that, give it a couple years—poof.
Ukon patted his shoulder, wooden fingers rattling.
“It’s like he just disappeared into thin air,” Ukon commiserated quietly.
In fact, he had. Sakon’s eyes hazed over as he stared down the alleyway. The credits he could find in magazines, photos of the birds of Vietnam, simple settings with no violence, had to the business pages, and those business pages lead here. There was no mistaking it; Sakon had checked a dozen times.
“I know,” Sakon said and still stood in place.
Ukon’s hand dropped and the puppet gave a half-smile.
“So, let’s try to find him, right?” Ukon tried, trying to throw enthusiasm in his voice. His voice bounced off the walls of the alleyway. The city won in its gloom. “You’ll never know if you don’t—”
“Try,” Sakon finished quietly.
The alleyway was long, dark, and winding, and it was not the kind of place Sakon could imagine Zenkichi living. At this angle, the sun could hardly strike the apartments down the way. Sakon took a step onto the cracked concrete and stared down it again. Zenkichi was down there, somewhere.
Sakon’s stomach tightened as he walked into the darkness, foot bumping a crinkled, crunchy bottle that he stooped low to pick up and toss in the trash. Each step dragged him closer to the apartments, the clotheslines strung across windows and green plastic foldout chairs growing in details. The shadow of the clothes hung overhead cast a shadow over him, dimming what already felt dark.
Finally, Sakon stopped at a set of stairs that lead to where he needed to be: 2-4-18 Shikitsuhigashi, Naniwa-ku, Osaka. Unit 204. Standing there, Sakon stared at each of the doors—what he could see, at least—from the way. 204 sat on the left side.
All he had to do was walk up the stairs, turn a left, and they would be there.
Sakon’s hand curled on the railing as his body took him up the stairs. 204 came closer and closer, the growing noise of music rumbling from inside accentuated each step on crisp concrete. At the top, he turned left and inched to the door. The plain doormat slid under his feet, one step closer.
His chest tightened as he stared at the door as minutes passed by. Pop accents and sharp music echoed through the red door.
Sakon’s hands tingled as he darted to grab the doorknob, arm tensing as he stopped. Through the haze of his thoughts, Sakon felt his body shake. Beside him, Ukon stared at the door forlornly.
It was worth a shot. This was worth trying. His hand shot up to the wood, and Sakon knocked twice. The music scratched to a halt. “Coming!” came from the other side with a bang and a screech from the other side. That was his voice, that was—
The door swung open with a wild whip, and Sakon flinched. The inhabitant swung into the doorway, already saying something. Loudly. Sakon forced himself to look up.
“Sorry for blasting the music! I kinda assumed no one was hom—” The man froze.
His eyes widened. He looked at stuck as Sakon felt.
“Zenkichi-san?” Sakon said quietly.
A moment of silence passed.
“Sakon,” The man said. “Ukon,” He said, a little more shocked.
His eyes raked Sakon and Ukon up and down—not entirely unfriendly, but something else entirely.
Sakon wasn’t sure what it was.
The man—in the approximate shape of someone he knew—then smiled. Zenkichi’s eyes shone with the same small twinkle, and his lips still had the vague formation of a smile. His skin was still the same warm-tan, and his hair was still long and unruly; Zenkichi hadn’t changed a day since three years ago. And yet, the space between them felt insurmountable.
Sakon swallowed.
“I… I didn’t want to assume I was welcome.” Sakon said quietly. Maybe he wasn’t.
Of course, Zenkichi had disappeared; he had a life to live and things to achieve, and being next to Sakon was like having a target painted on his back. Of course he had. Sakon didn’t know why he was here.
“Am I..?” Sakon asked. Then, gulped. “—interrupting anything?”
He didn’t want to sound too presumptuous, too entitled, too encroaching. He had also known Zenkichi for years. Maybe some part of him was entitled to demand an answer.
Zenkichi shook his head quickly, eyes still wide, still stuck in place.
“No. Uh, I’m actually not doing much at all.” Zenkichi’s face flashed with something depreciating, and despite the years, Sakon’s heart did a flip. He continued a little quieter, gesturing behind him. “Do you still want to come in?”
It was a bachelor’s pad, a shack of an apartment stuffed with a couch made for someone as tall and broad as Zenkichi. A stack of papers, a bottle of soju, and a scuffed laptop sat on the table. Zenkichi’s camera was nowhere to be seen.
Sakon’s heart did another leap, and he leaned in eagerly—enthusiastically despite the way his heart raced.
“Of course, I..” Sakon said and closed his mouth fast.
Ukon was mercifully silent.
“Okay,” Zenkichi said and grabbed his arm the same way before, his broad hands enveloping Sakon with the fire of a sun. “Come in,” He said and half-dragged him in.
Title: Consternation
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes.
WC: 997
Summary: Sakon finds Zenkichi after three years.
Notes: I'm back y'all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
The golden ginko trees of Osaka swayed in the wind. The edges of the roads held mounds of piled leaves, and under the arch of two trees sat the entrance to an alleyway. Sakon watched the sky turn cold in the matter of minutes as the light of the sun slipped from the sky.
This was where it said he lived. Sakon stared down the alleyway, and Ukon stared down to it. His bright blue eyes dimmed as his eyes flickered to Sakon.
Sakon was not solitary by nature. Of course, he took Zenkichi’s ghost act the hardest. The kid had finally gotten a friend—or something like it—and like that, give it a couple years—poof.
Ukon patted his shoulder, wooden fingers rattling.
“It’s like he just disappeared into thin air,” Ukon commiserated quietly.
In fact, he had. Sakon’s eyes hazed over as he stared down the alleyway. The credits he could find in magazines, photos of the birds of Vietnam, simple settings with no violence, had to the business pages, and those business pages lead here. There was no mistaking it; Sakon had checked a dozen times.
“I know,” Sakon said and still stood in place.
Ukon’s hand dropped and the puppet gave a half-smile.
“So, let’s try to find him, right?” Ukon tried, trying to throw enthusiasm in his voice. His voice bounced off the walls of the alleyway. The city won in its gloom. “You’ll never know if you don’t—”
“Try,” Sakon finished quietly.
The alleyway was long, dark, and winding, and it was not the kind of place Sakon could imagine Zenkichi living. At this angle, the sun could hardly strike the apartments down the way. Sakon took a step onto the cracked concrete and stared down it again. Zenkichi was down there, somewhere.
Sakon’s stomach tightened as he walked into the darkness, foot bumping a crinkled, crunchy bottle that he stooped low to pick up and toss in the trash. Each step dragged him closer to the apartments, the clotheslines strung across windows and green plastic foldout chairs growing in details. The shadow of the clothes hung overhead cast a shadow over him, dimming what already felt dark.
Finally, Sakon stopped at a set of stairs that lead to where he needed to be: 2-4-18 Shikitsuhigashi, Naniwa-ku, Osaka. Unit 204. Standing there, Sakon stared at each of the doors—what he could see, at least—from the way. 204 sat on the left side.
All he had to do was walk up the stairs, turn a left, and they would be there.
Sakon’s hand curled on the railing as his body took him up the stairs. 204 came closer and closer, the growing noise of music rumbling from inside accentuated each step on crisp concrete. At the top, he turned left and inched to the door. The plain doormat slid under his feet, one step closer.
His chest tightened as he stared at the door as minutes passed by. Pop accents and sharp music echoed through the red door.
Sakon’s hands tingled as he darted to grab the doorknob, arm tensing as he stopped. Through the haze of his thoughts, Sakon felt his body shake. Beside him, Ukon stared at the door forlornly.
It was worth a shot. This was worth trying. His hand shot up to the wood, and Sakon knocked twice. The music scratched to a halt. “Coming!” came from the other side with a bang and a screech from the other side. That was his voice, that was—
The door swung open with a wild whip, and Sakon flinched. The inhabitant swung into the doorway, already saying something. Loudly. Sakon forced himself to look up.
“Sorry for blasting the music! I kinda assumed no one was hom—” The man froze.
His eyes widened. He looked at stuck as Sakon felt.
“Zenkichi-san?” Sakon said quietly.
A moment of silence passed.
“Sakon,” The man said. “Ukon,” He said, a little more shocked.
His eyes raked Sakon and Ukon up and down—not entirely unfriendly, but something else entirely.
Sakon wasn’t sure what it was.
The man—in the approximate shape of someone he knew—then smiled. Zenkichi’s eyes shone with the same small twinkle, and his lips still had the vague formation of a smile. His skin was still the same warm-tan, and his hair was still long and unruly; Zenkichi hadn’t changed a day since three years ago. And yet, the space between them felt insurmountable.
Sakon swallowed.
“I… I didn’t want to assume I was welcome.” Sakon said quietly. Maybe he wasn’t.
Of course, Zenkichi had disappeared; he had a life to live and things to achieve, and being next to Sakon was like having a target painted on his back. Of course he had. Sakon didn’t know why he was here.
“Am I..?” Sakon asked. Then, gulped. “—interrupting anything?”
He didn’t want to sound too presumptuous, too entitled, too encroaching. He had also known Zenkichi for years. Maybe some part of him was entitled to demand an answer.
Zenkichi shook his head quickly, eyes still wide, still stuck in place.
“No. Uh, I’m actually not doing much at all.” Zenkichi’s face flashed with something depreciating, and despite the years, Sakon’s heart did a flip. He continued a little quieter, gesturing behind him. “Do you still want to come in?”
It was a bachelor’s pad, a shack of an apartment stuffed with a couch made for someone as tall and broad as Zenkichi. A stack of papers, a bottle of soju, and a scuffed laptop sat on the table. Zenkichi’s camera was nowhere to be seen.
Sakon’s heart did another leap, and he leaned in eagerly—enthusiastically despite the way his heart raced.
“Of course, I..” Sakon said and closed his mouth fast.
Ukon was mercifully silent.
“Okay,” Zenkichi said and grabbed his arm the same way before, his broad hands enveloping Sakon with the fire of a sun. “Come in,” He said and half-dragged him in.