The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



Kyouka’s eyes were shining beside Atsushi as they stared at all the good things offered in the stall at the festival—crepes, chazuke, warm buns with different spices and fillings. Colorful lights had been strung over stalls and the stars twinkled down on festive music and chattering crowds. It was all in all a delight.

Atsushi grimaced at his poor purse. An expensive delight.

But as Kyouka gasped softly, biting down on soft crepe and sweet warm fillings, the stars in her eyes as bright as the ones in the sky, he thought to himself that it was worth it.



Kyouka dreams sometimes of her mother, her old life, the before that might have been. She dreams sometimes of the future, of Atsushi and the Armed Detective Agency, of eating tofu on bright summer days.

A knife is in her hand. You have to kill in order to save them.

She stares at the blade and whispers to herself, “No.” Those days are behind her. Demon Snow is behind her, sword out, eyes blank and promising.

“No,” Kyouka says and throws herself into battle to fight the enemy and save whoever her dream has concocted.

She wakes with bloodless hands.

Free Day


It was a free day, more than she should have asked for, more than she should have wanted, but Atsushi let her take it and fate did not take it back. A day of sightseeing, crepes, childhood returned to her for a few precious hours with one who felt like a true friend by her side.

It didn’t matter if she went to the police station at the end of it, it didn’t even matter what happened at the end of it: for one day, Kyouka could be truly happy before the rest of her life—and pain—would resume.

Growing Pains


Every time Akutagawa strikes her, it’s nipping on the heels of failure and leading a lesson by its throat. Kouyou-san frowns in clear displeasure when she sees the bruises that bloom across Kyouka’s skin, but her hands are gentle and the cloth cool as she bathes them.

“Tell Ryuunosuke not to hit your face,” Kouyou-san says with the hard voice of a Port Mafia executive. “The Port Mafia values your beauty.”

There are many messages wrapped in layers around Kouyou-san’s words and tongue, lessons delivered with honey rather than stinging pain.

Still somehow, Kyouka feels them ache in her bones.

My Eyes Shall See Another Day


Izumi Kyouka was prepared to die. She’d stood before the weretiger, willing to die to fight her and save everyone else, willing to save even her from the bomb she wore. He couldn’t save her and she’d sentenced herself to death.

He saved her. She had killed so many, blood on Demon Snow’s sword, and she deserved to be punished, to be executed, so she walked herself to justice before he saved her again.

He didn’t understand, but Dazai did when he finally told her she could redeem herself.

She’d chosen execution. Sacrifice was no more fearful.

Kyouka saved them.

Beneath the Moonlight


There was soft singing coming out of Kyouka and Atsushi’s dorm room. It was late at night and both of them should have been asleep but while Atsushi was, in at least a manner of speaking, Kyouka had wakened with the tiger.

The tiger was sprawled across the bedding comfortably in the shape of a crescent moon, tail twitching back and forth in contentment as it purred under Kyouka’s gentle hand rubbing along its flank. She sang quietly as it stared at her with great lantern eyes, bright in the darkness.

It was not the tiger only who was content.



“You look just like a flower,” Kouyou told Kyouka, petting her hair gently and tucking a blossom behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

Kouyou smiled, and for just a moment, Kyouka felt warm in the light of that affection and didn’t think about what she would have to do. Then she remembered.

“Don’t fret, Kyouka-chan,” Kouyou told her and took her fingers lightly to guide her as they walked. “It’s your first job. Everyone’s a little nervous their first time, but I’ll take care of you.” Her fingers squeezed reassuringly.

It felt like a warning, or a promise.

“I’ll help you.”