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DANMARI
Fandom: BBC SHERLOCK
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Main Characters Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes
OC's: Morita Kan'ya XV, Ikeda Takahiro
Rating R
Genre: crime drama mystery suspense humour romance first-time
Warnings: violence, language, non-explicit sexual description m/m
Sherlock Holmes created by Arthur Conan Doyle
Sherlock (BBC 2010) created by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss
This is a work of fiction, a parody; no remuneration is taken by the author.
Illustrations copyright Karadin 2011 all rights reserved.
Synopsis: Emissaries from the Japanese Ministry of Justice and the Imperial Family arrive in London to seek the assistance of Sherlock Holmes (and John Watson) in recovering a religious artifact, one of these men is known to the detective, reviving painful memories.
DANMARI - in Kabuki a wordless pantomime, undertaken in darkness, in which two adversaries try to gain possession of a precious object.
PART ONE *revised
word count 5,001
John Watson was in need of sartorial advice, just that afternoon, his flat mate Sherlock Holmes had texted him with the following message.
WE ARE GOING TO THE THEATRE TONIGHT
WEAR YOUR SUNDAY BEST.
SH
John called Sarah from her office so they could dash across the road to a small cafe frequented by the surgery staff. John ordered a large black tea and a bacon sarnie while Sarah purchased a Chai latte with a cheese-filled croissant. The pair made their way to the back of the narrow space to occupy their favourite table.
"Where is he taking you on your date?" Sarah teased with a wry sideways grin, adding more sugar to her coffee.
John scoffed, "It has to do with a case. We're going to see some sort of Japanese dancing, but if it's anything like a Chinese Circus I'll cry off!"
Sarah nodded vehemently, recalling her first disastrous date with John and with Sherlock Holmes, who had invited himself along, dragging her into mortal peril in a case of stolen goods and mobsters. Sarah had agreed to a second date with John, only to have this interrupted by Sherlock and put her foot down.
John had been quietly relived; having realized that his flatmate and partner in detection was, to put it bluntly, very possessive of his time.
So Sarah became a colleague and friend, rather than a prospective romantic partner. John decided it was just as well, with Jim Moriarty at large, it was best not to bring anyone else into the 'Great Game' - as Sherlock called it - the doctor could think of few choice vulgar names for the insane and deadly rivalry between the detective and his nemesis.
"I have a suit I bought before I shipped overseas, I can still fit in it!" John was quick to add, "... but it's probably gone out of style now and you know Sherlock's taste in clothes."
Sarah nodded. "He wears D&G fitted shirts to cut up cadavers."
"I've saved up and I'm due new togs, do you suppose you could help me pick something out?"
Sarah consulted the schedule on her mobile. "I can spare an hour, if we finish up straight away, there's a Harvey Nicks on Marylebone."
John had never set foot in the luxury goods store with the exception of buying a gift, yet he decided it might be worth the money he would spend just to see the expression on Sherlock's face.
***
When John arrived at 221B Baker Street that afternoon he was surprised to find himself alone in the flat, so he showered and shaved, before dressing in the dark blue suit Sarah had helped him select, with an ivory-coloured shirt and his RAMC yellow and red striped tie. John wore his father's square gold cuff links and his tie pin with the Caduceus symbol, only to realize he had forgotten to buy new shoes.
Luckily the doctor found some cream polish in the kit packed away with his mess dress - his formal military uniform - so he could put a shine to his best pair of black Oxfords. He went downstairs to wait for the detective, sitting on the battered sofa to trim and buff his nails. John Watson did not consider himself a vain man, but as a surgeon he took pride in his hands, he thought them rather good-looking, if not as elegant as Sherlock's.
As if on cue, The World's Only Consulting Detective burst through the front door, flinging off his coat to throw it over the coat rack, pulling the scarf from around his neck as he made his way across the sitting room toward his bedroom.
"John, Good. Won't be a moment. Tickets in my left side coat pocket. Look out for the cab while I get dressed."
And just like that, he was gone again. John shook his head as he rose from the sofa to go through the pockets of Sherlock's coat - cautiously, having found sharp bits and strange items in them on previous occasions - and pulled out a pair of tickets from Sadler's Wells.
Printed on the tickets was the image of beautiful lady in what John recognized as a traditional Japanese costume, wearing a high stylized black wig with tortoiseshell combs; her face painted an unnatural white which drew out the redness of her lips, painted in a perfect cupids bow.
Three Kabuki Dances was a production subsidized by the Japanese National Theatre starring Kan'ya Morita XV. John considered doing a bit of Googling to find out what he would be watching as he heard the shower turn on upstairs.
However, the doctor decided he would rather put on the kettle while he was waiting, opening his laptop would only tempt him to check his emails and comments on his blog.
He set out a tray with two cups, along with a few Jaffa Cakes in case Sherlock had not eaten since his morning slice of toast.
"John, you were meant to be looking out for the cab," Sherlock chided, but when John turned to reply, all the breath left him, as if he had been punched in the solar plexus.
Sherlock was wearing a kimono.
The robe was pitch black, the same colour as Sherlock's hair, with a splash of a vibrant red along the lower half of the garment and the left shoulder in an asymmetrical pattern; the kimono was wrapped tight around Sherlock's hips by a band of fabric in a deep purple. On his feet the detective wore what looked to John like thick black socks which divided the large toe from the smaller so they would fit into black sandals.
The stark contrasts served to make Sherlock's already pale skin luminescent, with his back to the fireplace, cast shadows gave the planes of his face an Asiatic appearance.
"You. Look. Amazing!"
John was never one to hold back superlatives when it came to Sherlock, just to see the man smile, often a smirk of triumph, or smug - as it was at the moment - or genuinely fond, which was a recent development.
"Wherever did you find that?" John stepped over to study how the garment was wrapped around.
"It's Japanese, of a modern style favoured by musicians, I just knew I liked it; luckily it could be expedited over for tonight." The detective walked to the window overlooking Baker Street, parting the curtains to watch for their cab.
"And how long have you known about tonight?" John asked, folding his arms in front of him.
"Mycroft informed me two days ago. Don't look at me like that. I didn't know until I texted you that we would attend, clothes had nothing to do with it."
"Ah," John replied, once again his efforts to keep up with Sherlock, both intellectually and sartorially, had fallen short, but this failed to dampen his spirits, after all, as the partner of Sherlock Holmes, John's life was one of adventure; he was grateful to be included.
"So, what's going on at this theatre that Mycroft's become involved?" the doctor asked.
The detective did not reply at first, frowning as he tapped the window glass with his fingertips.
"A case of International scope," Sherlock replied, turning toward John, "... between Britain and as you may have guessed, Japan. We are to meet agents of the Japanese Ministry of Justice as well as a representative of the Imperial Family and this man," Sherlock gestured to the ticket in the doctor's hand. "Kan'ya Morita XV, a living national treasure."
"A living national treasure?"
"Ningen Kokuhō," Sherlock replied, his rich baritone easily falling into the sibilant cadence of the Japanese language, he took one of the tickets from John's hand, "... a person who has attained mastery of intangible cultural properties, works of dance, drama and music, among other art forms. In his native land Morita Kan'ya XV is considered the epitome of Kabuki, a traditional theatre that was created around the same time as Shakespeare wrote his plays."
Sherlock's tone was reverential as he stared at the image printed on the ticket and John found himself holding his breath as if captured by the same sense of awe.
"This alone is reason to attend the event," Sherlock said, "the mystery we are to solve merely an aperitif. I hope you will enjoy it."
"Sounds interesting," John said, blushing at the inanity of his words even as they left his mouth.
Both men heard the sound of a hackney pulling up outside just as their landlady, Mrs. Hudson called up to notify them of the fact. John shrugged into a black wool car coat before descending the stairs.
"John! Don't you look dishy!" Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands together, then she glanced behind the doctor and her mouth dropped open.
"Oh, Sherlock! Are you going to a fancy dress party? Wait a tick-tock while I fetch my camera!"
John grinned and nudged his partner in the side; Sherlock removed a long grey Inverness coat from where he had draped it over his right arm to set it across his shoulders like a cloak. Both men stood beside each other in the hall as their landlady took her snaps, until Sherlock gave her a squeeze,
"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, our carriage awaits!"
"Tell me everything when you come back!" she said brightly as she waved them out the door, and John suddenly recalled his first date at age of fourteen, picking up Chloe Thomas at her parent's home, clutching a market-stall bouquet of flowers in his hand.
****
Once in the cab Sherlock's smile faded and he drew his coat around him. John supposed a silk kimono might not be warmest choice of dress on a foggy night in London. The detective did not consult his Blackberry, but gazed out the windows as dusk spread over London.
"Is there anything you need me to look out for?" John asked.
Sherlock indicated yes with a nod of his head, "This is a one-off event. Shin'ichi has not performed outside of Japan for more than a decade, so a particular person may attend."
John wondered who this Shin'ichi was, but did not want to dig in his pockets for the ticket to find out, in the meanwhile, Sherlock was usually quiet; whenever they began a case the detective could not sit still, pacing, leaping, throwing his arms about with abandon, pale eyes flashing, until his excitement coursed like electricity through John as well.
Most people who encountered Sherlock Holmes thought the detective was heartless, a perception that Sherlock encouraged with his arrogant manner and a cold facade, but over time John Watson had made a study of Sherlock and he knew when the man was troubled.
The hackney drew up outside of the theatre gleaming like a jewel against the night sky, its glass curtain wall decorated with banners with a well-dressed crowd milling around the glass doors of the foyer. John was suddenly very glad he had purchased a new suit as he noticed a group of press photographers standing behind ropes.
"Off you go!" Sherlock announced and John quickly paid the driver before stepping out of the cab, holding the door for Sherlock who swept out with a regal presence, striding towards the main doors as the doctor scrambled after. The crowd parted for the detective, so they were through the throng and into the lobby in seconds, the photographers only catching the trailing edge of Sherlock's Inverness coat in their viewfinders.
John could hear the murmurs of 'Who is it?' 'Is that one of the artists?' around him as he followed in the detective's wake.
Sherlock slung off the coat, draping it over his arm and said to John, "We are to be seated in the Lilian Bayliss Theatre, a smaller venue suitable for the performance. If you'd like, we can stop for a drink at the bar."
John liked, though it was he who stood in line and paid for a glass of red wine for himself and a Screwdriver for Sherlock. When he returned to the detective - who had positioned himself near the top of the stairs to view the lobby - he found him in the company of his brother.
"John, don't you look natty in your new suit. Harvey Nichols?"
"Good evening, Mycroft," John replied, handing Sherlock his glass. Everything the older Holmes brother wore was bespoke, from his Saville Row dove-grey suit to his hand-sewn Italian shoes. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you a drink."
Sherlock allowed his lip to curl. "Where are Anthea and her Blackberry?"
"She is with the delegation, her Japanese is much more fluent than my own and I wanted to make certain you would arrive."
Sherlock's smirk vanished as his eyes narrowed. "I said I would come and I'm here. "
"Butterflies," Mycroft said, which baffled John until the man gestured to Sherlock's kimono. The doctor had not noticed the pattern in the red splashes of colour on the robe. "I am certain Morita-san would approve."
"Kan'ya-sensei, surname first. Get it right." The detective swallowed the last half of his drink and tossed the plastic cup into the nearest rubbish bin. "Ready, John?"
John gave Mycroft perfunctory wave, sorry to gulp his wine down and once again the theatre patrons made an alleyway for the detective to stride down, possibly motivated by the scowl twisting the man's striking features.
John supposed the two brothers would always be at odds, even after Mycroft had assisted them on the Moriarty case and its aftermath.
At the doors of the theatre Sherlock brandished his ticket to the startled usher, John a step or two behind nodding in apology as he took two glossy programmes. Sherlock walked down the left aisle to a block of seats at a prime location to the centre stage, set apart by ropes. John realized with a slight shock that this was where they would watch the performance.
Sherlock placed their coats in the seat to his right, sitting down so that John was seated to his left, he then drew an object out of the belt around his waist which was revealed - with a practiced snap of the detective's wrist - as a folding fan of a deep red colour, matching Sherlock's kimono.
"Oh," John remarked with interest, but the slight lift of Sherlock's eyebrow warned him not to bring attention to the object. After a moment the doctor realized why, as Sherlock set the fan, partly folded, against John's thigh, there was a message written on the back.
MAN ON YOUR LEFT 2ND ROW SILVER HAIR
John pulled out his programme, scanning it without reading, and glanced over to the middle-aged man, Caucasian, in a white suit, with long silver hair combed back and cropped at the line of his collar, his skin was tanned and he wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses balanced over a hawk-like nose.
The doctor noted the flash of large jeweled rings on the man's hands as he spoke effusively to his companions, a young man with a stocky build and swarthy features which indicated a family connection; the Asian woman on his left wore a gorgeous yellow dress, or perhaps it was her slim figure and beautiful face that made more of the slip of fabric.
Sherlock's fan tapped once against John's leg and he glanced down to see it unfurl just a bit more.
DON'T BE OBVIOUS.
John frowned, knowing that Sherlock had written the messages beforehand. The detective smiled without showing his teeth in response.
John glanced now and again at the trio as the theatre filled with patrons, they were soon joined in their makeshift 'box' by Mycroft, his assistant Anthea - who flashed John a quick smile when he waved to her - and two Asian men occupied the empty seats to John's left.
Mycroft Holmes fussed at the chair filled with coats, Sherlock frowning as his brother moved them over, but John's attention was taken by the handsome young Asian man who sat beside him, dressed smartly in a charcoal suit with a gold tie. The young man's hair was chestnut in colour, styled fashionably in a shag cut to frame his face, his skin was clear and golden, his lips full and pink, and as he turned to regard John, the doctor saw his eyes were light brown.
"Good evening, Sensei Watson, I am Ikeda Takahiro," he nodded his head downward slightly.
"You're Japanese," John replied, waiting for - and hearing - Sherlock huff out at breath at his ridiculous statement.
John smiled and stretched out his hand. There was a moment of hesitation on Ikeda's part before responding, but his clasp was firm. John supposed he had made some social gaffe at the scandalized expression of the older Japanese man sitting alongside the aisle.
"Yes," the young man replied, smiling in return, "I studied at Oxford for two years, so I hope my English is good."
"Very good, I'd say," John replied. "Why did you call me Sensei? Isn't that a name for a Master of some sort?"
"It is also a title we give to Doctors in my country, but if you do not like it, I will desist."
"It sounds good! Impressive! But you can call me John."
Ikeda blinked, "It would be an honour."
John gestured to his right. "Have you met Sherlock Holmes?"
He turned to find Sherlock giving him a fond look and the detective leaned forward so that he could see Ikeda. He slipped a card from the sleeve of his kimono and presented this with both hands, bowing his head.
"Konbanwa, Ikeda chiji, Holmes Sherlock, mata oai dekite kouei desu."
The young man took Sherlock's card with both hands, then produced his own card and passed this to Sherlock in like manner.
"Konbawa, " The young man said with another, lower nod of his head, "Hajimemashite. Mr. Holmes, you needn't use Your Excellency, it is my mother who was an Imperial Princess, I am only a commoner."
"Your mother is the daughter of an Emperor, sister to the current Emperor and you are the chosen representative of the Imperial House. Better to err on the side of politeness, don't you think?"
This reply left John staring at his friend; he thought Sherlock had no awareness of social graces, yet now realized that the detective merely ignored them.
So, the doctor concluded, Sherlock intended to impress the son of a Princess or he was trying to impress him.
"Why aren't you a prince?" John asked without thinking, wincing when he considered how rude the question must be, but Ikeda replied easily,
"After the American Occupation in 1947, an Imperial Princess who marries outside of the Family does not retain her title; any children resulting from the marriage are not in the line of succession."
"I'm certain all of Japan regrets this, in your case," Sherlock replied, the fan held up so only his brilliant eyes were visible.
John wondered if Ikeda would have wanted to be the Japanese counterpart of the British Prince William, with all the pressure of public expectations that came along with being a young, attractive heir, then he had a fleeting moment of terror that Sherlock was flirting with Ikeda.
The detective lowered the fan, the edges of his mouth curling as he deduced his friend's thoughts.
The young man laughed, his cheeks turning pink,
"You flatter me, Mr, Holmes! I am happy to say that the Chrysanthemum Throne is secure with Prince Hisahito ... and yet," Ikeda bit his lip, concern lining his clear brow.
Sherlock reached over John to tap the armrest of the young man's chair with the folded fan, as he would have nudged the doctor in their investigation of a crime scene if he was about to give something away.
"We will speak after the performance," Sherlock said, directing their attention to the stage as the house lights dimmed.
Ikeda leaned close to John, to murmur, "Do you know Kabuki?"
"Not a thing," the doctor whispered back.
"If you wish I could explain it for you."
"Thank you," John said, just as the curtains opened to reveal a backdrop of gold folding screens.
The stage setting was minimal, with only a few articles to indicate that what they were viewing was the private chamber of a lady; a pair of tall candlesticks, a cosmetic box and mirror stand, and standing in the centre of the stage, a woman in sumptuous robes, brilliantly coloured and embroidered with gold, on her head a large elaborate black wig decorated with combs and pins with metal sequins.
After a moment's pause, long enough to take in the scene, the audience began to applaud and John joined in.
"You see a courtesan of ancient days," Ikeda whispered, "notice the richness of her robes, her extravagant hairdressing and ornaments and the way her obi sash is tied with an elaborate bow in front."
Ikeda's voice so close was slightly startling, as was the warmth of his breath on John's neck, yet he found himself leaning toward the young man.
There was a sound somewhat like a banjo being plucked - a shamisen - and a man's voice began to sing in Japanese, his tones deep and slow. John guessed the musicians must be offstage and the woman onstage began to turn, appearing to glide, hardly lifting her feet. To John Watson it seemed as if he were viewing an antique woodcut come to life.
"This woman is rare," Ikeda said, "she would have been able to dance, to write poetry and converse on all manner of subjects with wit and intelligence, and her clients would have paid handsomely for her company, yet she had to remain within the walls of the pleasure quarter in the city of Edo, the old name for Tokyo."
The woman slowly approached her mirror stand, then sank down, gracefully spreading her robes about her. The white paint on her face masked her expression, yet from the delicate movements she made as she stared into her lacquered mirror, John had the impression the woman grieved.
"She could take lovers if she wished, but she still belonged to whoever paid for her; she is recalling the man she loves."
As John watched, the lady drew something white from the folds of her kimono.
"What is that in her hand?" he whispered, turning so that he spoke into Ikeda's ear.
"These are tissue papers on which she would write letters to her lover, she holds them and thinks of him, and now she places her sleeve against her cheek, as she would rest her head against the pillow she shared with him."
And John watched the woman's languid movements just as Ikeda described them, "Oh," he breathed. He had been afraid that the dance - to music whose words he did not understand - would be incomprehensible, yet he found all he had to do was watch, her gestures, almost birdlike, told John all he needed to know.
The woman rose to her feet once more, her white face expressing pathos as she moved slowly in time to the sound of another stringed instrument, reminding John of raindrops on windowpanes.
"The koto is not often used in Kabuki, but it evokes the inner chamber of the courtesan," Ikeda explained.
The dancer paused, stretching out one hand, extending her smallest finger and held the tissues above them, about to make a cutting motion.
"Each small movement has meaning, she is thinking of severing ties to her lover."
John gave a soft gasp just as the woman paused with a small shake of her head.
"She stopped!"
Ikeda inclined his head toward the doctor, so close their cheeks brushed, and smiled. John found himself smiling in return, but he also moved back in his seat, his face heating as he thought what he and Ikeda must look like, and hoped no one around them had noticed.
"From last night's sweet reveries in the morn, we wake." Sherlock whispered in John's right ear.
John turned so quickly he could feel his neck crack, and he found Sherlock staring back, his eyes glittering. John swallowed to ease the dryness of his mouth, focusing once more on the woman as she trembeled, as if holding back sobs, and placed the folded tissues to her lips, sinking slowly to her knees.
After a pause, she lifted her head, rising to assume the pose at which she started, as still as a painting, returning to her silent perfection, the life of a courtesan without her lover.
Once the last note of the koto had finished resounding the audience leapt to their feet cheering, yet the lady remained frozen, taking no bows or acknowledgements as the curtains drew closed.
John was not applauding, but remained in his seat, holding onto his chest in a vain attempt to slow his pounding heart. He could feel Sherlock's gaze on him, calculating, dissecting, doubtless knowing each thought as it spun round in his head.
Ikeda watched him as well, "You enjoyed the dance, Sensei?"
"I'm overwhelmed," John sighed, "but it's a good overwhelmed."
John looked over at the man with silver hair that he was supposed to have watched, and found him standing on his feet beside his companions, vigorously applauding.
"Seems to be a fan," John said to Sherlock.
The detective's gaze was thoughtful, "Yes, nothing will happen here tonight." He rapped John's knee lightly. "I hope you enjoy the next two dances as well as the first."
END PART ONE
notes
D&G - Dolce and Gabbana brand
RAMC - Royal Army Medical Corps
Caduceus - Roman God Mercury's staff with two snakes - traditional symbol for a doctor.
Harvey Nicks - Harvey Nichols.
SHERLOCK'S KIMONO - KAGURA Designed by GACKT http://gackt-nemuri-kimono.com/front/special.html
Inverness coat - a greatcoat popular during Victorian times, often worn with evening dress
Katagami-mai - 16th century chamber dance.
Kabuki - traditional Japanese theatre involving dance in elaborate costumes and makeup.
Screwdriver - Vodka and orange juice.
Konbanwa, Ikeda chiji, mata oai dekite kouei desu. - Your Excellency Ikeda, Good Evening, I am Sherlock Holmes. It is a great honour for me to meet you. *this is being double-checked!
Hajimemashite - nice to meet you.
Chrysanthemum Throne - Chrysanthemum is the emblem of the Japanese Imperial Family, only males may become Emperor, the three children of the Crown Prince Naruhito have been female, so the succession now rests on the son of Prince Akishino - the first male born into the Imperial Family in 41 years.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 09:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 01:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 01:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 01:48 pm (UTC)I look forward to more in this narrative universe :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 01:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 07:57 pm (UTC)Poor John, he thought his suit was going to be impressive, but Sherlock completely outshone him! I appreciate the link to see what it looks like - I didn't realise GACKT did clothes! And he had it overnighted! Money is never an object when it comes to clothes for the Holmes family. Nice that Mycroft noticed John's new suit, at least!
I'm DYING to see what happens next!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 08:27 pm (UTC)John looks so nice in my thoughts! And Mrs. Hudson thought so, I was reminded when Gackt wore the kimono (I've given to Sherlock) at the Bunraku premiere, and out of all the events at the Toronto Film Festival, all the big name stars and fancy dresses, all anyone could talk about was the beautiful Japanese man in the kimono.
I think it's great Gackt is designing kimono (along with jewelry and modern clothing) he has designs for men and women, hopefully it will make something of a revival in Japan.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-06 10:40 pm (UTC)I am so eager to read the next chapter. My winter reading is a collection of kabuki plays, so your lovely story fits with my mental "theme!"
May I ask? Who is the young man "playing" Ikeda Takahiro in your fanart?
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 12:47 am (UTC)The lovely young man is Nakamura Yuichi, who recently starred in the comedy Moyashimon, Tales of Agriculture, but is probably best known as Yutto from the series Kamen Rider Den-O, he is also part of the D-Boys stable of actors.
The onnagata depicted in this story is based on Bando Tamasaburo V, it is his picture in the fanart above. ;D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 12:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 12:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 03:51 am (UTC)Thank you for your care and detail. The link to the kimono was the final moment of loveliness in a story of much grace.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 04:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 05:54 pm (UTC)As for the kimono, I looked at the link and would have thought the Orochi or the Shibuki more his style. Blood stains FTW! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 06:46 pm (UTC)Ah, all of Gackt's kimono are stunning, but there is a specific reason I chose the butterfly motif - more in Part Two!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-08 05:10 pm (UTC)i'm really loving!!
and Sherlock!! Look out for John! >____<
huahauhauhahauh
very curious relationships over there that i wanna understand!!
looking forward for more!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-08 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 12:02 am (UTC)The plot is described in such an exotic, slightly canon way - I like it a lot.
I am japanese learner but I don't know those intoductory phrases, are they more formal?
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 12:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 12:32 am (UTC)Honestly, I know the general rule 'the longer - the more formal' but it's good to know new vocab ;D
I'm waiting for next parts!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 03:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 04:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-09 01:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-12 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-10 07:29 am (UTC)Can't wait for more.
Domo Arigato.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-10 01:34 pm (UTC)I am going to draw Sherlock in that kimono! Thanks again for taking the time out to read.
PS, I did write that crossover fic with the premise that Sherlock fans did not know Death Note, just think of it as Sherlock and John finding a genius child and how they cope with him. ;D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-11 01:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-11 01:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-12 10:30 am (UTC)What wonderful story-craft! :)
You've put me on the edge of my seat wanting more; thank you so very much for sharing <3
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-12 01:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-21 03:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-21 03:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 09:36 pm (UTC)So very well done... and the art? In the sidebar? Oh. My. Gawdz. I can't praise it enough.
*curtseys to the awesome and reads on*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-26 09:55 pm (UTC)