Indepedent Sasayama Mitsuru RP blog
Childhood dreams /kouzaburo-toumato/


It seemed like the half-baked idea had worked, but then the other boy was on it again. Something behind his eyes began to sink down, to darken, and his plastic smile was quick to fall away into something soft and plain. Why were things in his life so persistent

No matter how many times you wrung a rat’s throat, another would come to take its place; never any reprieve from gnawed holes in the furniture, worrying over food left out. No matter how many times his Mother smiled kindly and read a story to lull them to sleep, she would inevitably turn into a wicked witch once more, cruel and cold and as fickle as the tide, swayed only by the luminescence of addiction.
And no matter how many times he insisted that he could protect her too, that he was a prince and it would be fine if she only let him try, his sister would still be the one to go out, go out and come back with her smile a bit more broken….
Again..and again…and again and again and again….
He wished he could reach out, and turn it off. To make the scruffy kid shut up, let it be. Maybe with a remote, like a television. Maybe with his bare hands.
He just wanted for things to be happy and simple. No unpleasant questions. Make things settle. Stay still, stay the same for long enough to breath. Consistency. Reliability. Comfort.

And then suddenly, the other boy barked out such a thing- the words raked across his train of thoughts, scattering them about and leaving him blinking in utter surprise. 

A good person?

"….Are you really?" He asked, the words worked slowly past his lips. Those dark eyes stared widely at him, almost as if awed, and there was light in them again.

"…Can I trust you? Will you prove it to me?"

Hm? So he was doubted, after all. That’s why the ‘boy’ refused to tell him ‘his’ name! 
Sasayama frowned lightly, staring right into those large chestnut eyes and nodded firmly. “Of course.” 

He understood why the other wanted proof, why he asked for it. In this world, you couldn’t quite trust anyone, not even the people supposed to be closest to you - your family-. You couldn’t trust people that were supposed to be reliable - the adults-. So you have to prove yourself in order for another to trust you. 

"What do you want me to do?" He sat down on the ground and rested his arm against his knee, grabbing a stick and poked the dirt absent-mindedly while waiting. Well, whatever he’ll be asked to do, he suppose he’ll just have to do it. Once he was close to eat a worm in order to prove to the other boys that he was the strongest and bravest. It wasn’t as scary as he thought - but he was still relieved that an adult stopped him in time.



"I am not your ‘boy,’ I am your inspector." And as such deserves the respect that comes with the title. 

He watches as his glasses are unceremoniously hidden away by the enforcer’s pocket. Who knows what sort of dirt and grim his precious spectacles are being covered with by being subjected to such a holding place. Not only are his glasses being subjected to torture but in the enforcer removing his only shield to cover his face up, Ginoza himself is now vulnerable. Saying he wears glasses for the therapeutic effect of wiping his cloudy psycho pass clean as he cleans the lenses is a good cover-up for the real reason he wears them: he wants his own identity.

Ginoza started wearing glasses at a relatively young age, around his middle school years, for a sense of self-identity. The inspector has been ridiculed and bullied for being related to a latent criminal, his bullies and thugs never calling him by name but by his relations to a latent criminal. The child grew to hate his reflection, only seeing his good-for-nothing father there and became self-conscious of himself. In wearing spectacles, Ginoza feels like himself and not just a carbon copy of his father.

However, he won’t let this weakness show to Sasayama.


"A drink?" Of course, the inspector remembers all too well what happened the last time the enforcer decided to treat his inspectors to a drink and the experience makes the young man a little hesitant. Still, his security is on the line and this report can wait.

"Fine. I give in to your childish game but no funny business."

"… …  sure, I promise." Sasayama grinned and patted the stiffy inspector on his back assuringly. He had a different plan in his head, of course, why would he ask the 1000% virgin out for a drink if he didn’t have any ‘funny’ business in mind?

"Let’s get going then, Nobuchika, want me to invite your old man as well?" He was a good drinking buddy, that Masaoka, the other enforcers likes to call him the God father of the bureau - at least among the hounds.



He can hear—no, feel—the mockery raining down upon him. It’s not so much the inspector’s own naïvete but rather his uptight persona, always trying to stick by the rules while deviating enough to unleash risky maneuvers that only an enforcer ought to be able to conjure. Perhaps he may be capable in his own right, but the line where the inspector stands is a fragile tightrope with the bottom a one-way ticket to ending his career; the inspector needs to be careful lest he warrant death upon himself. But this, this is simply embarrassing is what it is. Shinya’s features contort to mild discontent part of the coffee sticking to his face, and the other sourced from Sasayama’s continued guffawing.


“Don’t make fun of me,” the male mumbles in utter chagrin.

The abruptness of the word “sex” bothers Shinya in a way: it sounds too curt, crude and fundamental. There is a certain aesthetic to a word that the raven-nested male can appreciate, a habit of appearances a commonality when regarding his need to don specially-tailored garb, or to keep a professional outlook when on the job—back straight, straight face, the works—be it for uniform reasons or sheer vanity.

Ignoring the offered shirt in favor of a handkerchief extracted from his pocket, the inspector casts a wary gaze toward Sasayama, blinking twice and averting his gaze before mumbling a tense “I see.”

"Oh why would I do that when you are doing such a good job yourself?" Sasayama coughed inbetween the laughter, his shoulders shaking. It had been a while since he was able to relax, and laugh. He could barely remember when he had last done so.

In a way, he was grateful for the man before him. He cared, and he relied on him even if he didn’t want to admit it. Still, Sasayama knew very well what was going to happen to people and things that he treasured, if he kept them close then he would break them - so he learned to keep a certain distance.

"… …" He fell into a heavy silence, it’s like everytime he got close to the inspector he withdrew just as quickly because he didn’t want to allow himself to get any closer.

"I take it you’re a virgin then, inspector?" He smirked softly, mask on once again.

@Sasayama-mitsuru || 01. Wayward


Now, this was one of those rare days Makishima Shogo had been forced to do his own shopping. It was a rare occurrence because, for one, Senguji had often provided him with the means for Choe Gu Sung to cook up a meal… the other, of course, being that he had grown accustomed to a certain life style. That is, on days where he hadn’t planned a spectacular city sabotage, he would take the day (and night) to read through a book.

This was one particularly tedious day for him… having sent his Korean companion on his way to conduct business across the city.. which had been a necessary sacrifice for both the gentle afternoon company he enjoyed as well as his stomach. Of course, he still had the means to navigate about town… it was simply that he typically chose not to. Although his psycho pass was easily controllable (and therefore he never ran into any trouble tripping a street scanner), he still stuck out like a sore thumb with argent strands and golden optics. 

Still, he had found it particularly unbearable the second day, having raided the fridge clean of tomatoes. This had forced him to not only wonder what had been taking the hacker so long, but also out in the open. Tomatoes were a low effort preparation grocery and easy to obtain — and he supposed they were considered healthy, so he had been on his way to the supermarket when the bakery had caught his eye. 

It had been difficult to resist the allure of fresh-baked bread (despite it being made of hyper oat flour) and the lovely display of madeleines in the front window. He had only just bent over to look at the tray, mentally picking the ones he had wished to obtain (all of them, really), before his reverie was rudely interrupted by a ghoulish hand grabbing him. 

Snowy lashes lowered, half glare shimmering from under hooded lids. There was a certain annoyance to being interrupted in the middle of something wonderful — as if one were jolted awake from a pleasant dream or if a cacophony had interrupted melodic piano music. He straightened immediately to catch a good look at the loon who had dared— 


Auric hues glanced down, noticing the specialty band around the man’s wrist under dirty sleeves. He studied the other man closely, dispassionately — the man was sloppy, disorganized looking.. slovenly… and reeked of alcohol. But he bore the mark of… perhaps a servant of the great oracle herself. How shabby the state of affairs must have been… if Sibyl relied on men such as this one. The man couldn’t be an inspector… 

"Can I help you…?"

A humorless smile graced the albino’s face, the look of disdain difficult to erase from cool, auric hues. 

The second those predatory eyes landed on his, Sasayama jolted and took a step back. There was something dangerous about this man that he sensed right away, and the unmistakable scent of blood and death - so strong that it became overwhelming for the sensitive nose of a trained hound.

However, he kept a straight face - he wasn’t a hot headed person. When you deal with dangerous criminals daily, you need to learn patience.

"Hmm~ I don’t know, can you?" 

"I seem to have lost my phone number, you see… Can I have yours?" 

He grinned and pulled away the unlit cigarette that’s been dangling between his lips, and tucked it behind his ear. The hand pressed against the glass of the display windows and the tie around his head dangled loosely in the air. 

friendly psa;


                 Remember that you can random tag me anytime.

                Remember that you can random tag me anytime.

                Remember that you can random tag me anytime.

Give me texts/phone related things.

Give me gif or icon chats.

Give me text starters.

It’s great in between long/multi-paras and really deepens a line.

Even if we don’t have a verse, give the love.

                          Random tagging makes me feel really special.



((Haven’t had time to reply due to classes, apologies~

Childhood dreams /kouzaburo-toumato/


The little Prince did indeed look the same- right down to the clothing he was wearing, the faded grass and tulip stains dotting them. 

The foul thoughts of going against his sister disappeared when, just like a knight (or a pet dog), the taller boy came charging up on the horizon at the call of his name. A magic spell to summon a friend.

"Mitsuru," he greeted simply, smiling.

Touma hadn’t consciously realized it, but there had been something weighing on him. His house was filled with more and more nice things, and he didn’t have to worry about food so much anymore; but his sister’s smile seemed more fragile day by day. Slowly, his twin was becoming different from him. Bit by bit, it stewed in his guts like something gone sour. Loneliness.
Seeing this person- a boy, like him, linked to him in a tiny way Mother and Sister were not- somehow comforted him. 
…But his smile melted away, when that unexpected question came.


It seemed so absurd, so untoward, that for a moment all the Prince could do was stare blankly. What was he supposed to say?  
Should he…lie? Did he want to lie to this person? Lying was bad, wasn’t it?
Feet shuffled, body leaning back as if wanting to run.
”..I, I…”
He was mumbling disjointedly, mind whirling for an explanation. Some sort of proper thing to say. The truth? But what if- what if he…? If he called him what his sister called him…

He trailed off, staring as the other pulled out the hair clip. Twitching fingers reached out, numbly taking hold of the delicate offering. Well, it was certainly a pretty thing, it looked like something his sister would like to wear in her hair…but, he couldn’t help but be somewhat confused. Why this? He was a boy, after all. They were both boys. 
Eyes flickered up from the gift to Sasayama, brow furrowing.
But…the other looked so expecting. Waiting for his answer, still. For what he didn’t have. Looking right at him. He had to reply. He had to reply. He had to….

"….Thank you!" he exclaimed, almost breathless with how intensely it bursted from his chest. Clutching the pin, the younger boy beamed, lips stretching desperately into a warm smile. It showed the gap where he’d managed to violently wiggle his loose tooth away the other night. 

"I really like it, Mitsuru! It’ll be my treasure!"
He had to change the subject.

Seeing ‘his’ smile and to hear his own name come out of those lips made him feel a bit warm and fuzzy inside. He waited patiently for the other to take ‘his’ time with the name, but just like the ‘boy’ had expected, he momentarily forgot about their subject when ‘he’ smiled again and thanked him.

It felt nice to be appreciated.

It felt nice to have someone look at you and smile because of something you do for them. He decided that he would do more things to make ‘him’ smile.

"Hehe, you’re welcome… I’m glad you liked it-…"

Then he paused, the ‘boy’ never told him his name did he? 
A frown appeared, a tiny little one since he was still warm and fuzzy over the thought of being appreciated. “Well uhm, you were saying?”

Could it be that the ‘boy’ still thought of him as a stranger? Was that why ‘he’ didn’t want to him ‘his’ name? Because he thought that he was a bad person and would do something bad? Isn’t that what mothers used to tell their kids, that you mustn’t talk to strangers… not tell them your names…?

The thought of that made his smile fade a little.

"I’m a good person." he blurted out suddenly, instantly regretting what he said. Was he truly a good person, if he couldn’t stop his father, and couldn’t make his sister happy? 



Despite the attempt to ward off Shinya’s ever-growing concern, it does the very opposite and further augments his worries. It’s uncommon for inspectors to worry over enforcers like this—rather, practically unheard of—but he can’t help it, he has an undeniable, compelling urge to constantly chastise Sasayama and incite petty arguments over improper behavior. Tense features lax but pursed lips remain uneasy, slate hues continuing to stare while the male’s words echo in his mind. Perhaps he is overstepping his boundaries as an inspector, risking his own health for the sake of doing his job and keeping his subordinates in line. At the thought, Shinya tilts his head south as though sullen and dejected.

The corner of his lips pull to a wry grimace, an unruly head of hair turning back up to look at the brutish male with a look as though wanting to ask something yet hesitant to inquire. Courage surges in minute quantities to then aid Shinya in speaking out his mind.


“…Is it really that fun? Drinking and—“ he pauses and averts his gaze, “f-fornication?” He surveys to and fro, then to the screen glaring on the monitor. Maybe it’s stupid of him to ask. Just as he utters the final syllable, the inspector raises a dismissive hand. “Never mind, forget I bothered to ask.”

Sasayama took the silence as a sign that the inspector was done with the conversation. Normally when he told him off as gently as he could possibly muster, the other seemed to fall into this silence. It was nice, really, he preferred Shinya treating him like air rather than care about him, because caring about him would lead him nowhere.

He reached for his mug of coffee - black, one sugar - and took a small sip. The hot liquid barely reached his throat when the other uttered the word ‘fornication’. Which of course caused him to spit out the coffee, some of the “brown” showered Shinya’s face.


His hands were clutching onto his stomach, it was cramping from laughter - was he serious? He knew that Ginoza was 100% virgin but… Kogami…

"Fornication? What the hell? Who uses that word to describe sex? You sound like an old man, dude. Not even old men use that term." He reached for a dirty t-shirt hanging on the back of his chair and wiped his mouth, offering it to the inspector to wipe his face clean.

"… and yes, it is that fun.”



Ginoza still couldn’t believe a child like Sasayama has the aptitude to be an enforcer and is an enforcer. The hound causes much more trouble than he is worth, the man constantly having to write apologies and getting in trouble with the chief. At least moments in the office are never dull when he’s around; albeit not much work gets done either.

The inspector frowns at the name-calling, crossing his arms instead seeming as how Sasayama is intent on getting the shepherd to chase his stray hound around the office like an idiot. His face is gently tinted from frustration. “I’m not stooping down to your level. Just hand them over.”


Sasayama probably has some shitty, humiliating favor to have his inspector to do in exchange for his glasses. Ginoza sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, already not liking where this is going. He straightens his posture and looks the enforcer in the eye. “…What’s the ‘favor?’”

He rolled his eyes, quietly waiting and dangling the glasses as if he didn’t heard his request. Then, a wide grin appeared on his lips - he knew that Nobuchika would give in eventually. He always did.

If this person was a woman, he could probably end up crushing on her, maybe a little bit more than every other woman in this office since a) he was a virgin, b) he was really cute with all his seriousness, and how easily he gets embarassed by such little things.

"That’s my boy."

He folded the glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his own blazer, putting his hands behind his head and pretended to think about his request… although he already had one in mind.

"How about we go out for a drink, just you and me~"



It’s not uncommon for the inspector to work overtime and linger in the emptied halls of Unit One’s office assorting files and burning corneas whilst staring upon bright monitors for what seems to be hours on end. Well, it’s also that and the inspector feels ever-so compelled to wait until a certain slovenly enforcer rears his ass back to the bureau so Shinya can receive a healthy dose of long-winded lectures. Sometimes the inspector wonders why he goes to such lengths when it comes to monitoring this hound in particular—oh how he wonders indeed.

Shinya needn’t turn his gaze upon footsteps sauntering into office once the overwhelming stench of booze and women’s perfume reaches his nostrils. It’s obvious enough by the mere reek inciting a faint cringe that the enforcer before him has yet again indulged in sex and alcohol until too inebriated to care yet lucid enough to find his way back to the bureau. Quietly does the unfortunate inspector pinches the bridge of his nose before searching—scouring—for words to answer Sasayama’s query.


"Unlike most people,” he stresses the word in the midst of eyeing Sasayama with a judgmental gaze, “I’ve got responsibilities to uphold, namely making sure you, don’t get into trouble or worse killed.”

An elongated pause sustains until Shinya speaks once more, this time in a calmer, concerned tone. “I got worried,” the male sighs, “If you’re gonna go out to the red-light district, at least have the decency to take me or even Gino along so I don’t have to explain to my superiors why or how you managed to slip away.”

"Tch-… I always get in trouble, but you don’t have to worry about me getting killed… you should more likely worry about other people getting killed by me, since I’m such a dangerous criminal, a shackled hound… no?" Sasayama’s grin faded somewhat, he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips, one hand cupping around the lighter as the other tried to lit said smoke. He inhaled and puffed out some smoke, tossing the zippo onto the messy desk and leaned back against the chair, tilting his head back lazily.

"That’s kind of defying the point of sneaking out, Ko-chan." The man chuckled lowly and finally focused his slightly reddened eyes at his ‘inspector’ - he really had one drink too many tonight. "You and Nobuchika… none of you belong in that place, you’ll just chase away the girls with your ‘I’m a virgin’ signs shining so brightly on your foreheads." He flapped his hand lazily, as if batting away the thought and finished his cigarette in silence. Watching the grey smoke dissolve always fascinated him.

"I’m not lame enough to have you worry about me. I am a big boy, I can take care of myself." Geez, sometimes Shinya felt like some sort of a mother figure… he would never say it out loud, however, since the inspector had his dominator within reach and it really hurt to be shot.