(Note: this is a write-up from eight months ago that I very recently edited, so... not new, but certainly improved lol)
If I had to settle on just one thing, my favorite aspect of Lucyās character would definitely be how her emphasis on vulnerability shapes her relationship with Atsushi. Itās something I appreciate more and more every time I comb through her appearancesā¦
⦠which I do because Iām starved for Lucy content, rip. ą¼ąŗ¶āæą¼ąŗ¶
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No, but seriously. If you ask me, Lucy doesn't entirely avoid the pitfall of the archetypal tsundere whoās bad at being vulnerable, sporting her fair share of arbitrary hot-and-cold moments. But while she isnāt a full-on deconstruction, it wouldnāt be fair to call her played straight, either.
For one, her criticisms of Atsushi are, more often than not, genuine criticisms, not simply deflections, and ābeing vulnerableā encompasses considerably more than just āadmitting her crush.ā Furthermore, being bad at vulnerability is, by itself, not the crux of her conflict; it's being bad at vulnerability while at the same time valuing vulnerability above all else. Let me explain.
Prior to her epiphany on the Moby Dick, Lucy resented Atsushi for having found people who ā in her mind anyway ā valued him unconditionally, considering him privileged on this front. Meanwhile, the man she worked for was a literal power tycoon, and at no point did she express the same envy toward him. This wasnāt hypocrisy on her part ā not necessarily. If anything, it was a subtle hint at the way she thinks. She doesn't measure āprivilegeā by how rich or well-off someone is, rather, by whether or not they've found a place to belong.
This checks out in more ways than one. After all, Lucyās only real goal while in the Guild was belonging, and she went above and beyond to achieve said goal. Hell, she crafted an entire persona around the villainous role she'd been assigned, all in the hopes that sheād win Fitzgeraldās favor and be kept around. And when that went awry, she allowed herself to become a maid ā a source of menial labor, not too far a cry from her orphanage roots ā just to avoid being alone.
She didn't care about the money or the benefits (in stark contrast to why most of the other members were there), and though she was eager to engage in villainy if it meant painting over her victimhood, she just barely tolerated being a villain, viewing it more as a means to an end than anything worthwhile.
Itās no coincidence, then, that she turned seemingly on a dime when Atsushi prompted her to re-evaluate her victimhood. She was receptive to his appeal not to abandon her past self, not just because heād made himself ācredibleā in her eyes by revealing his scars, but also because ā ultimately ā a change of heart for her was as simple as lowering a mask.
Presently, Lucy is Atsushi's caring critic first and foremost.
She frequently calls into question his reckless heroism, i.e., his tendency to dive headfirst into danger for the sake of being a hero, thereby validating his existence. Itās a habit born of the Headmasterās abuse ā one he continues to cling to, and one she consistently challenges.
Hell, Lucyās very introduction posed a challenge to Atsushiās reckless heroism in the sense that, try as he might, he couldn't save her, only defeat her. Conventional heroism ā the kind he used to save KyÅka, for example ā was simply not enough...
... and lo and behold, it wasn't his strength that got through to Lucy, rather, his vulnerability.
But while Lucy is a blatant reversal of the way Atsushi often views his relationships (that is, through a lens of heroism) ā and though she already understands Atsushi on a level most donāt, simply by virtue of perceiving his victimhood (as he does hers) ā she also expects more from him than just salvation. Including just by existing, she presents a conflict that demands Atsushi be more of a person than a hero.
Their farewell āpromiseā is a prime example of this.
Bottom line is, it was never a real promise; Lucy knew full well that neither of them would be able to follow through. It was a last-ditch effort on her part to ensure Atsushi's well-being, knowing he was hellbent on jumping either way.
She appealed to Atsushiās narrative by presenting an incentive for heroism, with the implicit condition that, in order to come back for her, he'd first have to⦠yāknow, survive. Unbeknownst to Atsushi, though, salvation was never truly on Lucyās agenda.
So in other words, the one time she did feed into his reckless heroism, it wasnāt to be saved, rather, to make him promise to live another day without his even realizing it.Ā
Post-Guild arc, this trend continues, albeit in different ways.
When Atsushi performs his aforementioned hero-dives in Lucy's presence, she tells him off for it.
In chapter 43, Cherrirs!, her upbraiding Atsushi for almost drowning is, notably, the first mention of his victory against the Guild that isn't an accolade. His fellow detectives have praised him left and right for it, and the Yokohama newspaper hails him (rightly) as the cityās savior. But Lucyās reaction is another thing entirely. Is she in awe of his achievement? Absolutely. That's not what she focuses on, though. She focuses on him, insisting that he show a little self-preservation, like a person would.Ā
When he tries to insert himself into othersā plights uninvited, she intercepts him.
She doesn't appreciate his repeated attempts to be the hero in situations that aren't his to be the hero in, and urges him instead to let people fight their own battles ā again, like a person would.
When he fumbles in his relationships, she confronts him. In contrast to KyÅka, who earlier in Cherrirs! indicates that she doesn't really require anything from Atsushi ā just being around him is enough ā Lucy requires him to talk things out with her. After the Moby Dick goes down and they don't see each other for a while, Atsushi more or less forgets about her. In his mind, Lucy asked him to save her, he wasnāt able to, she got off the ship by herself... and that might as well be the end of it. He doesnāt consider the possibility that their interaction meant more to her than a failed promise of heroism; that she might expect him to remember her as a person, not just forget her as someone he couldn't save.
When the people close to him don't consider how their being hurt or killed might affect him, she reminds them. When KyÅka recklessly tries to leave Anne's Room in chapter 118, Mystifying Being, Lucy stops her, pointing out how devastated Atsushi would be if anything were to happen to her. In doing so, she applies her philosophy of person > hero to Atsushi and KyÅka both at the same time. She encourages KyÅka to be more than just a hero by telling her to think of how it would impact Atsushi as a person if she died.
Atsushi doesnāt want the Headmaster's words haunting him forever. His ultimate goal, albeit unconscious, is to grow into his own person ā a person who believes in themselves and doesnāt base their entire worth off of one attribute. Lucy is someone who pushes him toward that goal, if also unconsciously. Like Akutagawa, she doesn't think Atsushi's trauma defines him. She may not be informed of the specifics ā of the Headmasterās role in it all ā but she continues to see Atsushi as more than just a hero, and treats him accordingly.
Itās worth noting, too, that ā by the Guild Aftermath arc ā Lucy has already gotten what she was after all along, and so itās no wonder she hasnāt expressed any desire to join the Agency. In her Guild days, she never truly wanted to be a villain. It makes perfect sense, then, that ā upon being dissuaded from villainy ā she wouldnāt simply ādefaultā to heroism. Unlike KyÅka, her watershed realization wasn't that she wanted to save people, rather that, through "imagination" (read: empathy), loneliness could be vanquished. Belonging is Lucyās ultimate goal, and sheās nothing if not consistent.
As it often goes with tsunderes, being vulnerable isn't Lucyās strong suit. That's why her go-to method of conveying her care for Atsushi is yelling at him to stop being so thoughtless. That's why her comforting skills could use some serious work.
And that's why, at one point, she absentmindedly reveals to Atsushi how much his Moby Dick display meant to her, only to backpedal.
But for all she dances around the subject of her crush on Atsushi, feigning indifference or even hostility, their shared vulnerability is like a precious gem to her. So naturally, her feelings of debt toward him, as implied in the above interaction, stand regardless of his many failures to save her in the conventional hero way. After all, he saved her in the way she values most: as a person.
For a time, all Lucy was capable of giving in return for Atsushiās āultimate favorā was conventional heroism ā or in other words, many a close call and many a trip to Anneās Room. That, of course, brought up a whole new dilemma: if conventional heroism was a worthless currency, but vulnerability was just out of reach, how could Lucy ever come close to repaying her debt? She didn't know. All she did know was that she had to pay him back one way or another, and thatās where her most glaring flaw ā her quid-pro-quo mindset ā came into play.
Lucy's quid-pro-quo mindset, seen mostly (though not exclusively) in her relationship with Atsushi, is her most glaring flaw because it undermines the values and priorities that make her, well⦠her. Itās a relic of her time in the Guild ā a time defined by a strict (and frankly damaging) principle of transaction: usefulness in exchange for not being alone. It makes it so she's driven to help Atsushi out of a sense of indebtedness, rather than out of the same genuine care ā the same emphasis on personhood and vulnerability ā by which she would be driven otherwise. Furthermore, it inspires recklessness and self-sacrifice, two qualities she openly discourages in Atsushi.
It goes without saying, then, that the events of the Sky Casino arc were a major leap forward (no pun intended) for her. When Atsushi saved her from Nathaniel, thereby repaying her for her acts of service as heād promised so many times he would, she realized that ā just as her care for Atsushi doesnāt depend on his being a hero, Atsushi's care for her doesnāt depend on her being vulnerable. The illusion was shattered.
Ah, the wonders of character development. āØ
Thanks for reading!
Sometimes we forget how much Kyouka's story and character are fucking heartbreaking š„²
OK correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like the main 'yin/yang' parallel with Atsushi and Akutagawa is not something like 'this one is bad but secretly has a good side and this one is good but secretly has a bad side'.
I feel like it's more about 'who they are at their core vs who they choose to be'.
At his core Akutagawa is kind and at his core Atsushi is not. But despite this Atsushi tries every day to make the kinder choices and I love him so much for it. He has to work so hard to be good.
He wants to be a bitch SO bad I know he does but he tries his best to help people and be nice (sometimes he fails but that's OK <3)
Atsushi doesn't always WANT to help people, a lot of the time he's selfish and scared, but he does help people anyway. He keeps helping people over and over again. There's still some selfish motivation to it, and his initial motivation for helping people was because the headmaster told him that's all he was worth, but overall he does care about the people he helps and it weighs on him if he fails to save them. And of course, as the series goes on he starts helping people more because he can rather than because he feels like he needs to.
In Akutagawa's case, he's still capable of being kind but his environment led him into being someone who chooses to hurt people. But he's always been a protector at heart. In the start he was bad compared to Atsushi because he was choosing to hurt people and keep the cycle of abuse going. Just like how Atsushi developed in why he saved people, Akutagawa starts to get redeemed when he chooses to not just act on his rage. Not only does he start to spare people, but he speaks more kindly to them (apologising to Higuchi and telling Kyouka he's proud of her). It all culminates into the moment he chooses to help Atsushi and sacrifice himself for him, going back to his core value of being a protector. Even when he's finally revived, he keeps this role in his new position as Aya's Knight.
I kind of see the streaks of white in Akutagawa and the streaks of black in Atsushi not as their 'hidden sides' but as their fundamental selfs. That's who they are at their core, and their main colours (black for Akutagawa and white for Atsushi) are how they're presented to everyone else and how they try to have people see them as.
Throwback to Stormbringer really quick before I continue with the Prison Arc. With good reason too.
Referring to real-life Dostoevsky and Dazai.
Dostoevsky believed that suffering elevated, that it was essential for attaining true faith. Dazai feared God. He has only ever been able to believe in God's punishments due to the endless spiral of hopelessness and depression in his life. To him, suffering destroys.
Back to Bungo Stray Dogs.
Dazai made Chuuya suffer so that Chuuya could see that he isn't a monster. That I've known since I've written that portion. However, suffering destroys. He needed to destroy Chuuya's misconception of him not being human, and because to him suffering destroys, he believed Chuuya needed to suffer to break. So, no, Dazai didn't do it for shits and giggles.
uhh, dazai loses his ability for a day so he can pet the big cat <3
It breaks my heart that if young Akutagawa met young Atsushi he would've taken him in and cared for him in the way he did the other orphans
Look I like Roger enough, I understand what he represents and I generally donāt think he was a bad dude. I do however think he was shit at interpersonal relationships because, what the fuck. Whitebeards crew is infinitely more well adjusted and Iād say he arguably had the more traumatic death.
Like what even, what kind of planning leads a 53 year old man to sire a child knowing he is dying of an incurable illness and is about to turn himself in to be excuted by the marines where he will cause so much chaos it is literally still turning the world on its head 22 years later. He knew he was going to cause so much of a stir that he literally disbanded his crew and told them to spread far and wide to keep them safe. Because he knew the marines would hunt them far and wide But yet he still brought a baby into the world. Babe. What the fuck? What even is that? What was the thought process. I sincerely hope it was an accident and not a deliberate attempt to bring about a new era.
Because if so babe I need to see the recipe or Iām afraid we can never let you cook again
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