June 31_days Drabbles (06.01 - 06.15)
Title:
1. death's shadow grows
He remembers what they said.
Pretender. Wannabe. Imposter. He closes his eyes. Fake.
He'd tested his own steel against the boy's - he knew what kind of quality it was made of. The shining quality that doesn't break. He would vouch for the boy's sword-arm if not for his casual manner, his careless grace. Until he falls by the wayside.
He's seen the way his sister looks at him, like she believes he could do anything, despite her rude upbringing. He won't begrudge her that belief. He won't prevent her from running to his side, her face alight - because he is gentle. He's a healer's only son, who has known loss all his life.
He trusts this impulse.
The boy's power grows again. He'd found it slowly. He'd coaxed it to a flame, braved danger because of it - fed it to a hearthfire. Then he'd lost it to save them, people that weren't even his, people who hissed behind his back. They called him fraud but no, not the kind that really mattered.
His generosity and his honor shine like polished gold even as death's shadow grows, doubles and triples as nothing ever should. Byakuya watches, heart in his throat, as Kurosaki strides on into the future as if no doubt could ever taint him, Rukia's figure bobbing at his side.
What are you really?, he asked Kurosaki once, just before the wedding.
He remembers Kurosaki's response, so certain despite their content: I don't know. But I hope it's good enough.
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: G
Notes: not that I didn't already know I love Byakuya...
Title:
2. strength like a tower
He turned to her in a rare moment of surprise. "You knew," he said, and at the bewildered hint in his voice she laughed and waved the words away.
"Of course I knew, I was with one or the other all the time. Dai-chan and Tetsu-kun. Anybody else might be fooled but - well. I've known Dai-chan from kindergarten, geez."
Yes, she remembered. She remembered how in fourth grade she brushed her hair back in a ponytail, and how the nastiest boy in the whole class had laughed at her forehead. She remembered covering it up, she remembered the other girls scolding him, she remembered huddling in the corner of the classroom, hands clapped over her ears.
It didn't prevent her from hearing the almighty crash as Daiki picked up the idiot's desk, and tossed it into the corridor.
Tears still on her face, she'd watched as he hit him, pulled at his hair, called him all sorts of names. Teased him for still liking Anpanman. Tore up his prized notebook with the sketch of Inazuma Eleven that even the art teacher had praised.
She remembered thinking then Strength like a tower, but how will he use it? and that being the last thing she thought about before she drifted off to sleep. She thought about it for many nights to come, until finally she recognized what she had to do.
"What..." and finally for the first time in their very winding conversation did Kagami look a touch uncomfortable, "...what kind of relationship did they have?"
"I wish I could say for sure." She had her guesses but she'd always been too afraid to prod too deeply into it. "I only know it was...deep."
Kagami's eyes bore into her then, one sharp stab of intent before he turned away, jaw tightening. She could see the questions forming and dissipating in his head. However, she didn't have to wonder at what made him ask these kinds of questions.
"Do you think they're still -" she could see him balk at the word, "- in love?"
"No," she answered, and wondered if Tetsuya had been anything more than an outlet and a pleasant distraction.
Maybe strength had been what Tetsuya thought he wanted back then, but now he knew better. He needed something more, and now Momoi thought she might know who would give that to him.
Kagami must've seen something sure in her face, because the scowl rubbed off into thoughtful indifference. "Thanks," he said gruffly, and hopped off the wall to where Tetsuya was coming towards them, three ice cream cones in hand.
Thank yourself, she thought as she watched the strength of his back and the careful way he plucked the ice cream cone from Tetsuya's hands. With a smile, she leapt down too to join them.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: G?? PG??
Notes: I kind of like Momoi actually...
Title:
3. they met once more
They met again at the same riverbank that they had before. Miyata had settled down in his trainingwear, having done a whole half loop to cool down before he sat, admiring the sunset. The grass was so tall around him that likely Makunouchi had literally almost stumbled over him when they saw each other.
"Miyata-kun?" His eyes were wide as he saw the other boxer sitting there in the grass.
"Makunouchi," he greeted back. "Are you searching for something?"
He launched into a story about how his dog has slipped its collar because it was old and had been falling off and how he'd usually just leave it except it had their family name and address on it (though privately Miyata thought that anyone could get the same information out of a phone book). Stretching his legs a little wouldn't be so bad, so they poked around the surrounding areas until Makunouchi's hand darted into the soil and declared with a bright grin of triumph, "Got it!"
"Hmm," Miyata answered agreeably, and settled down right where he'd been looking.
The sun was well and setting by this time, and seeing it Makunouchi sighed. The dog tags clinked softly in the wind. It was spring, and the air was moist with the beginnings of the seasonal rains. Miyata snuck a glance at his once-rival and wondered what was going on in that spiky head.
Finally Makunouchi spoke with a smile. "I haven't got any juice on me, but I remember where the nearest vending machine is." The offer wasn't as shy as it was, once.
"I don't need it," Miyata replied, but even after he watched Makunouchi disappear down the other side of the hill he didn't move.
He didn't feel like moving. The sun was warm on his face and his body was still warm from the exercise. He found his mind wandering in and out of boxing, Makunouchi, his own travels and trials, then back to Makunouchi. He remembered when he'd come to tear their shared dream apart. He remembered Makunouchi's eyes, wide as they stared up at him, full of grief and shock.
It seemed so far away.
A rustle next to him, and Makunouchi sat down next to him, about an elbow's length away. He had picked out sports drinks for them. Their eyes met as Makunouchi passed the bottle over, but he didn't read hostility, or guilt, or even resignment.
"How's your father?"
"Good. Your mother?" He remembered Kimura telling him about the time she collapsed.
"She's doing well. Did you see Boxing Monthly yet?"
He snorted. "That horrible article about the bear suit?"
Makunouchi laughed. "I don't know when anybody had time to rip hair off of it, much less get forensic evidence on it being painted."
"Some enterprising fellow who hates Takamura." Miyata wasn't disappointed when Makunouchi lifted his head back and laughed again. "Where is your dog today, anyway?"
"Oh - Wanpo went off with Manabu-kun." He looked over to where Makunouchi scrunched his knees so he could rest his chin between them. "He's got a match coming up."
And how are you, he wanted to ask. The question almost made it out of his throat. How are you, now that I've left you behind?
Nothing negative at all showed on Makunouchi's face as he stood up. "It was nice to see you again, Miyata-kun," he offered shyly, and stuck out a hand to lift Miyata to his feet.
He took it. "Same," he murmured back, taciturn as usual. It didn't seem to darken Makunouchi's spirit a bit, though Miyata thought he could see a little hint of reluctance in his eyes now.
"I'll see you around," he said regardless. Miyata watched his back grow smaller and smaller as he disappeared towards his side of town. The last of the sun faded with that figure.
He was suddenly glad in the gathering dark. Because in the end he moved past the hope I crushed. The dream I couldn't hold onto, for both our sakes.
Because he found something better to work towards.
Fandom: Hajime no Ippo
Rating: G
Notes: Uhh I never thought I'd write this fandom again...
Title:
4. sing and rejoice
"Franky," a voice behind him hailed softly.
He turned to find Bakaburg there. His hair had grown a little thinner, his wrinkles a little more chiseled, but all in all it was the same visage that Franky had seen every day growing up. And of course, there was always the core of Iceburg that never changed: something worried and mothering and warm, contrary to his name.
Of course, Franky snorted, ice also felt soft and warm after you'd lain in it for too long. He'd had first hand experience with that this time.
"Bakaburg," he sneered affectionately, and instead of turning it into their regular screaming match Iceburg only lifted his head back and laughed, a golden sound. "That's so nostalgic!" he exclaimed, leaning casually against the balcony. "It's really been years."
"Long years," Franky agreed. Those kids had dragged him all the way around the world. Twice. And only when Usopp started to feel the pull of home did they think about traveling back this way again, towards Water 7.
"You know they have a song for you guys now, right?"
Franky grinned. "No kidding. What's it about?"
"Oh, it just gives the basic outline of who everyone is. Your part goes:
Franky builder and shipwright
With arms like hunks of steel
In cogs and wood are his true might
The Sunny boat is his
In this golden pirates' age
Sail on! Sail on!
With hope of being King someday
Dream on! Dream on!"
Iceburg's voice was pitched low, as to not wake the partygoers who had finally settled down on the floor for the night. His voice was husky from overuse - no doubt from yelling at all of his engineers, who were putting the final touches on the floating fortress before they tried it out.
Franky chuckled when he was done. "Whoever made that didn't know how to rhyme," he commented.
"They left me out too," Iceburg said wistfully, and Franky turned to him, surprised.
"You want a song about yourself? Bones could -"
"Ah," Iceburg held up his hand, a wry smile on his face. "That's not what I meant. I mean I'm not in that song with you."
Franky stopped at that, and really looked at his once-adopted brother that had scorned him, teased him, and yet pushed him to make greater, better things. Behind the cool generosity and shrewd businesslike manner, he knew Iceburg could take great care in the things that mattered to him. And of course his nakama all knew (because they were just good at reading him like that) but he didn't think the one other person in the world closest to his heart had understood just how disappointed he'd been when at the end of their jaunt to Enies Lobby, Iceburg had given him one last headlock (not literally), sat down in his chair, and turned away.
"It was a good trip," he said carefully. He was glad for his sunglasses, even now at night, though Iceburg could probably read every twitch he made otherwise. "But yeah, it wasn't the same without you."
Iceburg looked all the more guilty for having been forgiven. "Franky, I -"
"You did good here too," Franky pressed on. "You were there for all the people I had to leave behind."
Iceburg shook his head. "It was the least I could do."
"You didn't have to."
"Of course I did." And he saw the resolve in Iceburg's face, overshadowing the distant shame and weakness. "They're your family. This whole island is where you grew up. I couldn't leave you nowhere to come home to."
"Then you did the right thing." Iceburg looked away. "You did what I couldn't."
There was a long pause. "Franky, I - I don't think I ever want to leave. I like to build and I'm happy with my work now. Water 7 is what's important to me, and not just because it's our roots."
"I know."
"I'm not like you - maybe because you've got pirate blood, you're more restless than me."
"Yeah."
"I - Franky, I wish I could -"
"Bakaburg." His mechanical hands closed gently around his brother's shoulders. "I'm staying."
"But then you can't -"
"I'm staying."
Iceburg looked up at him then, and there was something tender and cracking there that Franky hated to see. It was the shell coming away, and Iceburg's strength set aside for the moment as he searched Franky's face for any faults, any hint of a lie.
Finally he smiled. "I'm glad. But will you follow my orders this time, Franky?"
"Heh. Try and make me, Bakaburg."
Iceburg chortled again at the name. "Welcome home, Franky."
"It's good to be back."
Fandom: One Piece
Rating: G...uhh I guess Franky+Iceburg if you reeeeeally squint
Notes: I wrote moar...yyyyy...
Totle:
5. nameless hills
That night he had a strange dream.
At first he was running in the air. Then slowly, surely, he realized he was dropping from the sky rapidly, so he ran faster. Soon the ground appeared beneath him, nameless hills of orange and brown, all uniform and springy as rubber under his sneakers as he ran.
Soon he realized he actually wasn't running anywhere. The ground was passing faster and faster under him, and suddenly his eyes were seeing his own figure from above, his black hair and his Seirin basketball club uniform, sprinting across the face of a basketball. He was only a dot on the canvas of bumps. And then he couldn't see himself at all anymore.
Pale hands clamped down on the ball from both sides and stopped its dizzying spinning. He looked up and Kuroko was there, white and clad in his birthday suit. He unbashedly held out the ball but Kagami ran, finding the area behind him was only sky, and he was falling -
"Are you mad?" Kuroko asked sleepily, and after a moment Kagami realized he couldn't possibly be talking to anyone but him. The dark ceiling of Kuroko's room materialized hazily above the two of them.
"No," he murmured, eyes already closing and drifting back to sleep.
"Then this is okay?" Hands snaked around his torso, pulled him close.
Sleepily his hands found the back of Kuroko's head, and tugged it towards him until it was nestled under his chin. "Sleep," he muttered, and breathing in the clean scent of soap and mint and boy, he let himself go.
He slept through the night like a stone, Kuroko firmly ensconced at his side.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: Uhhh PG for boy cuddling.
Notes: This was supposed to be longer...but my damn comp deleted it. GAR.
Title:
6. deep roots (A)
The shallowest part is the flower. Pink and with petals soft and yet firm as they stretch towards the sun. In some Asian countries they open as large as a person's face, in purple and pink and white. Mukuro likes the pink ones the best. They look like hearts to him, somehow - flesh wrapped around something yellow and sunny.
Connecting flower to leaf is a stalk of green that pumps life into the flower. That woud be like the motivation of a person. When they walk on the street, what are their goals? Their dreams? Their direction? Something points them towards where they want to go, and fuels their reactions.
Down below is the leaf, where the waterline is - sometimes it spills over and the whole thing is consumed. Other times the underground world creeps slowly over the green until it's barely floating on top. When the leaf moves, so does the flower. When the flower moves, so does the leaf.
Is that all this Family is? A measly plant, easily crushed?
No. Because its roots are strong. No. Because Tsunayoshi has a base hidden deep underwater, so deep in the murk that it's amazing something so pure and beautiful could rise from such a hideous history.
No. What he fears most is, that he and Tsunayoshi will never be free.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: vague 6927 or 69+27
Rating: G
Notes: uhhh yeah I find Mukuro easier and easier to write...
Title:
6. deep roots (B)
In the dark, Naoe Nagi lifted one stalk and stared at it dispassionately.
The inside of the Koneko was eerily bereft of its usual chatter and the appearance of its four guardians winding their way around the tables. Now, the only illumination was from the back door, which he'd forced open, and a smallish oval window towards the front, the angle of which would be impossible to actually hit anyone inside of the shop.
From the bucket in his arms, he scattered more dead stalks on the floor. Around the register, the iris section, the lilies, the orchids, the roses and tulips, he lay them down in the dark. He circled around front, to where the usual little bouquets went, along with stacks of clear plastic adorned with bow motifs and multicolored spools of ribbon to match.
He passed a poster with a caricature of the four, their leader with scowling even in miniature...a list of months and their related flowers...a well-read sticky of common flowers and their meanings...an outdated price list from behind an anthuriam...and then he was back. The next layer he did carefully, stepping over dead flowers, clods of soil, water stains on the floor. The smell of gasoline made him wrinkle his nose.
Last of all he piled the last of the dead, unused plants from the back right inside the door, and dipped the end of a long branch of cherry into the gasoline can. Dry-eyed, he lit it with Schu's old lighter, put it right on top of the pile, and then closed the door.
He went around front to watch, just a dark shadow with a pale face, one in a hundred thousand in this wide city. He watched until from the little window up top, he could see the flicker of red and orange glowing dimly inside.
Only then did he let himself cry. Maybe they were brothers in all but blood - he'd spent so many days watching them, drinking their pain, living their sorrow as Schwarz had stalked their prey - but Schu and Crawford and Farfar had been his brothers too, the only family he'd ever known. Maybe Weiss was made of people who had known warmth, and then threw it away. Did that make their actions better? Did that make them more forgivable?
Nagi didn't think so. He was the only one who came back. He'd come home to assassins chasing him in the street and their old apartment blown to pieces when he tried to enter. All while Weiss licked their wounds, huddled together, and recovered.
He wouldn't bother them anymore. Their double lives had always been a farce. Them playing in the soil, flirting with the girls, smiling at their customers - their humanity hadn't stopped them from killing the three people closest to him in all the world. This would be his last act of defiance against them and their sweet denial of the truth.
They were killers, like him, like Craw and Schu and Farfar - their deep roots couldn't be hidden.
Inside, there came the muted sound of ceramic pots falling. He mouthed into the wind, Live your truth, and turned away to leave. But there was someone standing right behind him, so softly that even he hadn't heard.
It was the one that was young like him. Omi. His eyes were open wide and his mouth a little open in shadow as he stared at Nagi but then abruptly found the words wouldn't come out.
Nagi regarded him steadily. They could both hear pots bursting inside, and the grinding sound of metal collapsing. Finally smoke had started to seep from the ruin, and a hint of of ash made Nagi's twitch.
Aren't you going to shoot?, he wanted to ask, but Omi seemed dumbfounded and not at all eager to chat. Go on, send me home to my brothers.
But Omi said nothing. Omi hadn't even heard, because ever since their last battle Nagi couldn't speak. When it seemed like the little cat wasn't going to do anything to stop him, Nagi pushed past him into the midnight streets of Tokyo.
When Omi finally turned to ask him where he was going, he had already melted back into the shadows.
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: G
Notes: WOW...man I didn't even think I could remember Naoe Nagi's name @.@;;;
Title:
7. summers that have been
"Gokudera," he murmured. Rain fell all around their little cafe umbrella as if the whole ocean had decided to pour down over their heads. "I lied. The first time I kissed you was that first summer."
"The first summer when we went ten years later? That was a whole two years before you started acting all mushy." He paused only a moment in dressing the hole in Yamamoto's ribs. Hunched under the tilted umbrella, from the street no one would be able to tell there were two bleeding and possibly doomed mafioso, though the umbrella looked like it'd seen better days. As it was, it was still trickling water inside.
"Haha OW you pull really hard on bandages, Gokudera." As if to prove that point the other Guardian pointedly gave him another yank, which had Yamamoto laughing nervously again. "Yeah, while you were sleeping I stole a kiss."
Gokudera rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you did that because you suddenly felt I was irresistably hot while I slept?"
"Haha no actually OW!"
"Then why?"
Rubbing his side ruefully where Gokudera had finally tied the bandages in a knot, he muttered something under his breath. A tick working up his jaw, Gokudera gritted out, "I can't hear you, baka."
"You kicked me," Yamamoto said louder this time.
The words took a moment to sink in. "I kicked you?"
"Yeah."
"That's not a freaking reason."
"Yeah it is. You kicked me right here." Yamamoto pointed to his knee. "Really hard. And then I fell but I avoided hitting your face with my hand and leaned down too far so..."
"So you stole my first kiss by accident."
Yamamoto perked a little at that. "I was your first kiss?"
Gokudera cuffed him, annoyed. "That doesn't matter."
"Gokudera, there're lots of people today who don't end up with their first kisses -"
"I know that." Gokudera chomped down on his cigarette with a growl.
"-that's the reason you stayed with me?"
"No, I stayed with you for your witty conversation and stellar personality."
Yamamoto laughed, pleased. "Why thank you, Gokudera."
"I wasn't serious!" But Yamamoto only laughed again, and Gokudera settled down with a huff, knowing he'd fallen for that far too easily. "Oh, just shaddap already."
A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and blinking through the rain that the umbrella very clearly failed to keep out, Gokudera half-turned. "What," he started to ask, but his cigarette was abruptly stolen and Yamamoto pressed his lips against the corner of his mouth, before kissing him fully.
"I fell in love with you long before that, though," he murmured in the scant space between them.
"The months before we went on that crazy adventure."
"Yeah." And his eyes were gold even when it was so gray and dark, Gokudera thought he might melt in them forever. "The very first time I saw you."
He snorted. "Mushball," he admonished gruffly. But he didn't object when Yamamoto took his hand as they waited out the rain.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: 8059
Rating: G
Notes: yeaaah...can't get away from this pairing...
Title:
8. a wandering light
He appeared suddenly out of nowhere, as usual.
"Holy shit!" Kagami snapped off, irritated. "Will you stop doing that?"
The look on the shade's face didn't change a whit, yet there was some sort of hidden smugness or amusement behind his eyes, Kagami just knew it. "I thought you might like to know that there's an oni among the students."
"What?!" He didn't have to be Nataku reincarnated to know that was a bad thing. "Where? Who is he?"
"It's a girl," the shade informed him. "Aida Riko, manager of the basketball club."
He froze in his tracks. Basketball. That little orange ball and hoop that he'd fallen in love with while he'd been in America, perfecting his admittedly semi-pyromanic skills. But he'd had that last match with Tatsuya and he'd given it up. It'd proved he couldn't play it back then, and he couldn't play it now.
But... "An oni," he frowned contemplatively.
"Yes."
"What'll you do?" The sunlight that usually would've just cut through the shade flickered over him, patterning his face with the shadow of the trees above them. For a moment Kagami was disoriented; he'd only known Kuroko for a summer since he'd come back to Japan, yet for a moment his heart doubted himself. Why was he trusting a shade anyway? One that had come so suddenly into his life? One that refused to move on?
"I'll join the basketball team with you, to investigate her."
Kagami glanced at him. He could feel the pulse of his wheels even from where he stood, a full arm's length away. He knew he would be able to feel it even if he was fifty kilometers, or fifty thousand kilometers away. Those wheels were also what allowed the shade tangibility, and solidification - and since Kagami couldn't be riding his wheels in school halls (he could already imagine the other students screaming their heads off), Kuroko was the perfect place to store them.
"You'd better stick close to me, then." He looked the shade up and down, frowning still. He wasn't a doctor or anything, but even he had to question whether Kuroko even had the physical condition to contribute at all to a sports team.
There was a muted gleam in his eyes too that Kagami didn't like somehow. "Do you like basketball, Kagami-kun?"
Yes. "I played it while I was in America," he allowed.
"And you liked it?"
Until he made me swear to never play it again.
"Yeah," he admitted grudgingly.
"It'll be fun, Kagami-kun," Kuroko told him, and he snorted. "Really. I'll help you like I do now."
"You help me now because you want to stay solid and visible." He shook his head, wondering why and how he'd gotten saddled with such a character. "What'd you do before me, anyway? Don't you have other people to beguile you into giving you life energy?"
Kuroko didn't look away, though the bluntness of the question had to hurt. "There were others," he said slowly. "But gradually I didn't want to take from them anymore."
"Life energy is energy, isn't it?"
"Maybe for other shades," Kuroko nodded. "But not for me."
And that's why I let him use my wheels, Kagami thought. "Where's the oni then?" he asked.
Kuroko never smiled, yet Kagami could feel he was gratefully doing it somehow. "Do you want to see her now?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's go together, Kagami-kun."
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: G
Notes: all inspired by this supernatural related fic...but I always thought it'd be cool of Kuroko was a ghost. But then I don't want him DEAD dead, you know? So I made him a shade. Though honestly I'm just pulling this out of my ass and don't really know the difference @.@;;;;
Title:
9. beyond the sunset
Arms snaked around his torso. "Hey there tanki-kun."
"Who're you calling tanki," Gokudera snorted. He flicked his cigarette over the rail and leaned back into the embrace. He fit there snugly as if he'd been born to it.
They stared out together over the waves - well, Gokudera did. He wasn't sure what Yamamoto was looking at. The boat under them barely shifted at all. He remembered he used to be scared of cruise ships back when he was little, because of their size, but now that he was grown he couldn't imagine what he'd been scared of. Then again, perhaps he was only foolishly fearless because everything he wanted was his.
Now what?, his brain whispered. You've put up the white picket fence, strode beyond the sunset, so what's next?
This was his dream, wasn't it? A Family, a good boss, a loving partner. This was what his own father failed to provide, and thus sent Gokudera running away from home to look for. This was what had made him stay though other Families, other organizations had invited him away from the Vongola.
What did he have left to do? Nothing. All he had to do was keep his boss alive and live to a ripe old age himself, and then voila! Finished.
He glared at the pretty sunset. No, that didn't settle at all. That didn't -
- an explosion rocked the boat slightly. Both of them tensed, then spun to face each other. "What was that?" Gokudera demanded, eyes darting towards the door.
"Haha I think I saw Tsuna on board earlier -"
"On our honeymoon boat? Why the hell would the Tenth be here??"
"Well I'm not positive that it was him -"
"You mean it could be Kozato?! That poses an even bigger problem - why the hell is he here?!"
"Haha or it could be us, Gokudera."
The words made him pause. Then slowly Gokudera smiled.
"Because we're the backbone of our Family."
"Yeah."
"And the pride of the Vongola."
"Uh-huh."
"And the Tenth would cry if we died."
"Let's go check if that's really him first," Yamamoto suggested.
Gokudera only smirked in return. "It never ends, does it?" he snarled, sticking his gun back in its shoulder holster. His earlier maudlin mood had evaporated. "We're on freaking vacation and we still get attacked."
"They really want us, I guess." Yamamoto was packing too. "If they wanted to see two 'eligible bachelors' boinking each other."
"Hey." He jerked the idiot's collar towards him so they were nose-to-nose. "It's more than that."
Yamamoto's eyes went light when he was surprised, the pupil contracting before it widened again. Gokudera could read those eyes like a book, and right now they told him that Yamamoto really wanted to kiss him, which they currently had no time for. "Gokudera -" he said as he leaned forward -
- Gokudera put his hand in his partner's face and pushed back hard. "Let's go," he commanded, and the two of them whipped out the door back to back, like a hundred times before.
He was no longer searching. He was already living his new dream.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Rating: G
Notes: same old 8059 fare
Title:
10. golden roof and silver floor
The crowds had roared when he'd come out. They'd screamed in every language, every dialect, but even in Japanese the only word that he could hear was his name, Taiga Taiga tigertigertiger until it was all squashed into one long phrase that never ended.
On the bench, nursing one broken arm with his other, Daiki nodded once, slowly at him. Momoi would be in the back, watching the screens. And Ryouta and Midorima would be watching with their own teams. He had no idea where Tatsuya was, but he hoped he could see him now, with the ring around his neck and the ball flying towards him, passed unseen.
Kuroko was only the merest shade, moving like a pale ball among pins, striking left and right like some bizarre mirror of Kagami. He didn't like cameras; he shied away from the big ones that would show where he was, and hid himself among the larger, older, heavier players. He was faster than Kagami now - skill had been slow to come to him, but in Seirin he'd made leaps and bounds. He hoped Coach Aida was out there too, watching them.
As fierce and golden as the sun, he'd slammed and crashed and slammed again, until the ball was so tight in his hands the texture left marks on his hands. The whole floor shook with pounds, cheers, the noise of thousands of spectators. The whole place had been shining like the roof was on fire.
Now it was utterly silent and devoid of life. The moon shafted in from the tall windows, stepping across the bleachers where his own parents had sat to cheer him on. The ground was silver with moonlight now; janitors had swept away all traces of the game. No cups and straws, food wrappers, or even drops of sweat remained in the once-sweltering stadium.
Only him and his shadow.
As usual there was no sound, before he raised his eyes and found Kuroko standing there. His hands still hurt from clutching the ball so hard. His breath still quickened when he remembered how the two of them had dashed, passing back and forth, the air only a brief hiss before they watched the ball sink through the hoop with a swish. His feet still hurt when it'd ended and he'd swung Kuroko around and around like a doll, a roar of victory ripping from his throat.
"Are you happy, Kagami-kun?"
He sat down on the moonlit floor with a sigh. The magic had happened here. The magic had come from the slip of shade that had been his constant companion since high school. And Kagami was glad of it, fiercely and powerfully so.
He huffed with a smile. "Aren't you?"
Kuroko's smile was very small, but it might as well been a delighted laugh. "Yes, Kagami-kun." His smile faded. "But what will you do now? We've gone nearly all the places you've wanted to go."
The journey's more important than the end, Teppei had said to him right before they'd carted him back to the hospital.
If you ever disappoint him, I'll kill you, Midorima had told him before they left Japan.
Do you know what you are?, Kuroko had murmured as he wrapped his fingers slowly and methodically. You're my light.
He stood suddenly, looking down at the still, faint figure that had followed him this far. "It doesn't matter where we go," he said, but the words rang like bells inside the empty stadium, echoing and whispering everywhere.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, just stay with me." Taking that one step closer brought Kuroko's head mere centimeters before his shoulder. His heart pounded sonorously in his ears. "I still need you."
Kuroko crossed the little distance and dug his forehead into Kagami's shoulder. Kagami's arms automatically came up to hold him there, digging hesitantly into the whitish hair. For someone so pallid and unsubstantial, Kuroko was still so warm from his shower and the little bit of wine he'd sipped at dinner. He smelled clean and new and before Kagami knew it, he'd nuzzled that head with his nose.
"What is this?" he whispered. He was confused; this was so far outside the realm of basketball it was practically another dimension of understanding.
"I think this means we like each other," Kuroko answered. His arms came around and hugged Kagami back tightly.
"Oh." And with the world explained to rights with a few simple words, Kagami closed his eyes and leaned on the one he trusted the most.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairing: Kagami/Kuroko
Rating: G
Notes: yeah still can't get away from this pairing either lol
Title:
11. the world of woven trees
Here in the trees, he could watch without being noticed.
The teacher always came in the morning, as opposed to Kakashi himself who came at night. He always washed his hands and mouth very cleanly at the entrance, and then carried some of the water up to the stone. Sometimes he would splash names; other times he dipped his fingers into the ladle and smeared them instead.
Then, wooden ladle held horizontally, he would clap his hands in prayer and bow. He performed these absolutions with an air of grave clarity, as if he'd accepted their passing for a long time now, yet never ceased to forget what presence they'd held in their lives. Once when he'd left Kakashi had even gone down to see what names he honored - but though he knew some, many were still foreign to him. Even in the shinobi world, they still kept different acquaintances.
Ever since Naruto (and Sasuke too) he'd kept his eye on this little sensei who had taught love, acceptance, caring where Kakashi had been taught discipline, indifference and the merits of hermitude. Of course he'd been scornful in the beginning, before he realized - the little sensei wasn't half wrong. More often than not, his students turned out to have good, solid cores.
He made it a point to watch on the mornings he could. Through the screen of woven trees, he watched as the little sensei clapped his hands, and bowed. Then, with a very significant look in Kakashi's direction, he marched back out of the graveyard.
Kakashi checked the stone first once he'd left. He'd watered his old teammates of course, but today only two more names were highlighted too. Obito and Rin.
He was waiting right around the corner from the cemetary. "I was wondering if you could stop spying on me in the morning," Iruka said as a way of greeting.
"When'd you find out?"
Iruka pointed to the wall of the alleyway in answer. Made of brick, there were tick marks on it scratched by a kunai, it looked like. There were a lot of scratches.
The next morning Kakashi was waiting at the entrance. They washed their hands and mouths together, and carried two ladlefuls up to the rock. Then they splashed the names, clapped, and bowed in unison.
As the sun rose behind them, Iruka turned to him at last with something that was the closest to a smile that Kakashi had ever seen aimed at him. "Good morning, Hatake-san," the little sensei greeted formally.
"Good morning, Iruka-sensei."
They watched the city come to life together.
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: G
Pairing: Kakashi + Iruka
Notes: aaand here's to branching out in new fandoms. Though I guess I've been reading Naruto fanfiction for so long it's not exactly 'new'.
Title:
12. there in a far country
Dear Stupid Colonel,
I'm in Xiao Long Fung now, like I was telling you before. The place where the old man liked to go when he was in the Qiantan Province. I hate to say it, but I can really see why - it's really beautiful here. The locals pole boats out over the lake to fish, with these black cormorants with rope tied around their necks so they don't swallow the fish they catch.
It looked like he'd had regular contact with this rentanjutsu master, Huang Laozi or whatever. I asked Ling about him (I mean excuse me, the Holy Emperor) and he said he'd never heard of him (rather, there were lots of Huang Laozis but none that were rentanjutsu specialists). I found the cave he lived in, but it looks to have been deserted for some time. The locals don't really know where he went either.
I haven't picked up on anything particularly incriminating, but that they don't know anything in such a communal society smells fishy. I'll be staying here for another two weeks so feel free to bother me here at that time.
I hope you're not mistreating Lieutenant Hawkeye while I'm gone. I saw Winry right at the border so she could give me a tune-up, and she looked fine, if sad that both me and Al ended up wandering around. I told her she could always phone Hawkeye or Havoc for help, but she says even with the ban they're still doing alright. There's no ban here in Xing, of course. Then again, Ishval is clear on the other side of Amestris, so I suppose what trade they do have wouldn't be affected.
Recently Al's gone into this whole thing of "relax while you work" so to please him I took a room sitting over the water (though that also makes me kind of twitchy; I keep waiting for the bed to go through the planks and send me into ice cold wakefulness at night). It's nice to hear the waves on the shore, and see the weird-shaped mountains in the distance. It's cool in the morning because of the fog, and from my window I can see the local girls getting water from the well, draped in that long-cloth style with the bright colored prints. Most of them don't know Amestrian though, which is making interrogation difficult.
Ha, I bet you'd love to switch with me right now, you slacker. Reading 5000 page tomes of rentanjutsu, stretching your legs around the lake, occasionally hitting on a local - aaaaall your realm of expertise, isn't it Colonel? "Exercising the mind and the body" was it that you told me that one time?
Anyways, I've enclosed a report about what I've been researching, mainly the circles for how to suck iron from beans and spinach, hope you don't mind the recent green research I've been following. Russell would have a conniption if he thought I was competing with him again.
I heard the little Hughes started third grade? You did go see her off the first day, didn't you? Even if you had to brave the St. Bernard puppy from hell?
Oh, and along with the whole relaxing thing I get the feeling Al isn't telling me something. He hasn't said something about a girl, has he? Actually, you'd better make that written reply permanent, and NOW. You can even tell the Lieutenant that it's work.
Keep safe and healthy, bastard colonel,
Your no-longer Fullmetal alchemist
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: holy crap it's G
Notes: this is probably like, the first time I've written unpairing in this fandom. Since like, years ago.
Title:
13. voices at the door
"But what do we say?!" Kise wailed on their way to Kagami's apartment. "What'd you tell them anyway? What're they expecting? What're the right manners for this kind of thing anyway?!"
"I didn't tell the rest of them anything, because we visit once a month anyway. Undoubtedly that Bakagami will make food as usual and we'll all sit down to eat it. Nothing new there."
"But Kurocchi will know! And what if he tells Kagamicchi! What if everyone's looking at us funny?!"
Aomine punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Idiot, they didn't make a fuss when Tetsu came out. They'll probably just nod and say nothing if the subject comes up."
Kise smacked his forehead against his palm repeatedly, pausing only to get out of the car. A little part of him wanted to run far, far away from the whole thing (which was eons away from basketball, girl-talking and modeling, three things that Kise was much better at). The other part of him, the part that was rapidly shrinking, was telling him to suck it up and announce it to the world. After all, if he couldn't say it to his old teammates then he probably wouldn't be able to say it to his parents either.
"Wait," he said, and grabbed Aomine's arm as he pressed the button for the elevator. "Wait, we can't just go in without a plan."
Aomine, predictably, rolled his eyes. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "Here's my plan: fuck you over the table and then they'll get the point."
Kise scoffed. "You are not going to have me on the dinner table."
"Why not, already did it at our place."
"That was our place! This is Kagamicchi's apartment - you know, the one that gives evil stares when we make butt lines on his precious sofa?!"
"Then what do you suggest?" Aomine finally looked like he was starting to think seriously about this whole thing.
"I - I..." Kise trailed off uncertainly. He didn't know how, really.
"Do you think we should tell them?"
"Yes," Kise said unhappily.
"Then let's just tell them."
"But when?" Kise cried. "Right when we walk in the door?"
"Why not?"
"That defies all rules of decency and manners, Aominecchi!"
Aomine looked heavenward with an exasperated sigh. "If you wanted Miss Manners, you should've picked a chick. You're good at that, aren't you? Then you could even pop out some mini-Ryoutas."
Kise glared at him, fuming. Aomine stared stonily back. "You can't possibly mean that," Kise finally said.
"Oh really," his roommate bluffed back. "Did you want to add the 3Ms too?" [1]
"And what about Momocchi," Kise bit back venomously. Aomine's childhood friend still didn't know, though 'at long last' she'd finally turned her attentions away from her precious Tetsu-kun. Recently she'd started courting Aomine (though Kise had been there before so he could sympathize somewhat; it was really like courting a very dense and well-shaped brick wall) as if that'd been her intentions all along, and Aomine's half-hearted attempts at fobbing her off were starting to annoy him.
"She'd be perfect for you. She know everything about you-"
"Don't you dare talk about Satsuki like that," Aomine hissed.
Kise turned to the door, coldly studying the grain there as if he could peel off the glaze with his eyes alone. His heart thudded in his ears. On the other side of this door, they could either be like Kagami and Kuroko, who'd come out as soon as they realized they were perfect for each other, or they could hide their relationship until a later date. In the end he wasn't really so worried about them knowing - after all, if his old teammates were still who he thought they were and hadn't drastically changed in the last month, they would take the announcement with good grace.
If Kuroko had told them. If not...then Kuroko would still let them keep it a secret. If he wasn't in one of his righteous moods, he'd take a leaf out of Kise's book and wouldn't act like anything was wrong.
"I didn't choose to fall in love with you," Kise shot back. Every muscle in him was rigid. He probably couldn't copy his way out of a cardboard box right now, all he could see was red.
"Yeah, I can see -"
"But I did nonetheless," Kise pressed. "Goddammit Aominecchi, I fell for your stupid attitude and your tan skin and your foul mouth. I don't want a wife or kids or whatever because I like what we have. I'll follow you the whole goddamn way even if you get some sort of terminal disease and I have to spoonfeed you every day at the hospital."
Aomine opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. Whatever cutting remark he was thinking of, he only swallowed and nodded as if Kise could understand what his agreement meant. As it was...he could. Because they'd been together for far too long.
"Hey guys," a voice said from behind them. Both jumped and whirled simultaneously. "The door's open, you know. You can continue your conversation inside." Kuroko blinked at them both as if he couldn't understand why they would want to have a hissy fight in the corridor. "By the way, my neighbors probably heard the whole thing too. This building's got pretty thin walls." He knocked and pushed the apartment door open before them.
Right inside the entranceway, their old teammates were lurking around looking suspiciously innocent. Murasakibara had one hand shoved in a snack bag as usual; Midorima was once again cleaning his glasses millimeter by millimeter. Even Akashi had his legs up on the sofa, and was flipping through a basketball magazine with one ear cocked towards the door.
"Tadaima," Kuroko called out towards the kitchen.
"You mean - you mean you all heard?" Kise stammered.
"Oh, okaeri." Kagami walked out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. His regular If You Kiss The Cook, I'll Kill You! apron still hung off of his neck, though the back had been untied.
"Kind of difficult not to hear," Murasakibara said between chomps. "You were yelling all the way down the hall."
"We recognized your voices," Midorima added.
Akashi said nothing, only waved a hand vaguely to show he wasn't listening anymore. Something in the magazine had caught his interest.
"Dinner's ready," Kagami announced, turning back towards the kitchen. He didn't give Kise or Aomine any special kind of look. Then again, Kise thought if Kuroko told him, he probably just grunted and moved on. That couple seemed quite immune to surprise, or at least to showing it.
"Wait," and everyone turned back where they'd started filing into the kitchen for food. "Wait, I just think - I think we should say it properly. That me and Aomine have been going out for -" He tried to count the years, wondering if he should include the time when they were still experimenting.
"For a long freaking time." Aomine grabbed his arm and made for the kitchen. "Now, can we eat already?"
Murmurs of assent were uttered through the seven people present. People continued to shuffle into the kitchen. Nobody paid any more undue attention towards what he'd said. Mouth gaping a little, Kise let himself be dragged away. "That's all?" he whispered to nobody in particular. "Did - did you all already know or something?"
"Well yeah," Akashi said, putting his magazine down at last. He brushed past Kise, saying, "S'not really like you guys were quiet about it."
Kise had to blush at that, whereas Aomine had already moved on and was peering with great interest at the spread of food across the counter.
"Oh good, you got it," Kagami said as he saw the white confection sitting on the counter.
"Ooh, what's the cake for?" Murasakibara noted as they all sat down at the bar or at the small dining table.
"Celebration," Kuroko said cryptically, smiling a little. As Midorima passed out the beers, he added, "We should toast to all of us. To twenty years down the road."
"Can't think that far," Aomine grunted. Kise smacked him lightly on the arm.
"To our future, I guess," Kagami raised his bottle. His arm was tight around Kuroko's shoulders, and as Kise watched, Kuroko leaned into the touch ever so slightly as his blue eyes caught the golden color of the beer in his boyfriend's hand.
Suddenly he wanted to try it too. He leaned against Aomine, and in a moment their hands were twined. Then their eyes locked and suddenly Kise couldn't look away, because Aomine was looking at him as if he was on the court, watching the ball with a fierce, blistering intent. His game face.
This isn't a match, Aominecchi, he wanted to say, but the way he clutched his hands made it clear that Aomine understood.
"To our future," everyone echoed, but Aomine and Kise only clinked their bottles together silently and looked into each other's eyes as if they could read their own futures in each other's faces.
Twenty years down the road...would they still be holding hands? Drinking beer like buddies? Having sex on their dinner table?
This has to work, Kise thought desperately. We've come too far to turn back now.
Evidently Aomine thought the same. "Let's do this," he murmured under the background noise of the others clattering bowls and chopsticks around. In tandem they looped their elbows around each others, searched each other's faces one last time, and drank. [2]
[1] 3Ms: a little outdated, but it's supposed to be what every Japanese salaryman works towards: a house, a car, and an AC or refrigerator (or rather in this day and age, a computer)
[2] Though it would probably never work in modern times (save weddings), I meant for it to mirror sakazuki, though it's mainly used in feudal times to pledge loyalty to one's ruling lord or sworn brother
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairings: Kise/Aomine, Kagami/Kuroko
Rating: G?
Notes: lol my second try at Kise? Somehow it still didn't come out like I wanted it to...
Title:
14. the shadowed land
"Renji," someone said above him, and Renji opened his eyes when he thought he'd never do so again.
It was Kuchiki-taichou, of course. There was no one else who could trace his reiatsu so quickly. After years of practice together, pinpointing the fading ribbon of Renji's life energy was probably a piece of cake. Briefly he thought of the time Kuchiki-taichou had told a joke, the one about Renji looking more like a rooster than a red pineapple, and how Renji had ranted about his futile efforts to shake the stupid nickname.
"Taichou," he murmured. His breath rasped wetly when he inhaled. There was streak of red blood against one of the white trees; his own, no doubt. Calmly he regarded it, and along with it the end of his life.
"Renji," Byakuya repeated. "Don't move. I've already called Unohana-taichou."
"You shouldn't've bother, taichou," Renji replied. "It's alright to just leave it."
Byakuya wasn't leaving it. He'd already pressed his hands together over his chest, and Renji could feel that white energy shoring up the last dribbles of his own reiatsu. He stayed still and let his taichou work, mind flitting from subject to subject, remembering people and places, errands he still had to run, knots that he'd left yet untied.
"Taichou," he said suddenly. Here in Hueco Mundo the sky was always mute and dark, the landscape broken up by blindingly pale trees and rocks. "Taichou, I remembered something. I remembered something that I want."
The light didn't fade, but Byakuya did look up sharply at his face. That conversation they'd had at the office, when Byakuya had hinted so cautiously, so timidly what Renji might want as a sort of thank-you present, surfaced with a vengeance between them. The taste of awkward failure as he wracked his brains still suffused him with a sort of shame for disappointing his captain. He knew Byakuya too, had bit back a sigh of frustration for not being able to express his generosity in a rare, magnanimous fashion.
"I wanted to...keep your faith. Rukia's too. And to Soul Society. I wanted to...be of use. To be your fukutaichou forever." Byakuya's eyes were intent on his, searching his face, searching his words, but Renji knew he wouldn't find a lie because these were his last words, and they were true. "A long time ago I would've never said this but it's been my honor - my pleasure - to serve you, Kuchiki-taichou.
"Don't you see," his voice trailed off into a whisper. "You've already given me what I want." Well, what part Byakuya could give, that is...
"I cannot accept that for an answer," Byakuya uttered back harshly. The sound echoed in the shadowed, empty land. "I will save you, Renji, I demand you to live and --" His voice buzzed as if muffled by some giant hand. Renji blinked, lungs clouding with liquid, Zabimaru missing from his hand, a hot tear rolling down his cheek. He could feel his body shuddering to live as Byakuya held it together, mouth moving still but his words, his actions so far away.
Renji felt himself push away from the banks of consciousness, and his eyes drifted shut.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Bya + Ren
Rating: G
Notes: directly followed by the one below.
Title:
15. the stars are in blossom
"Renji," Byakuya said in the last moment. Hand on the door, the redhead turned back, expression alert. "Stay," Byakuya commanded, and Renji turned back, waiting in the corner of the room as Byakuya finished his signature on the last form and placed it in the pile to go to the Eleventh Division.
"Hai, taichou." Ever restless, Renji's eyes roved around the familiar sights of his taichou's room: the large writing desk, the closet that held zabuton, the alcove that held his beloved deceased wife's shrine. The far window would lead out to the balcony, looking over the Kuchiki mansion's extensive gardens, where the late Hisana had loved to walk.
Byakuya, well aware of his fukutaichou's impatience, folded up his writing supplies in record time and clapped once for a servant. Instantly from the side door one appeared, bowing. "Bring sake and cups," he commanded, and the servant bowed low, and disappeared again.
The sun was setting into his final rays of the day when the tray arrived, one large white bottle and two cups accompanying it. "Will Miss Rukia be joining you, master?" the servant asked.
"No. Only Abarai and I."
"Understood."
For Hisana he had built a set of stairs that led directly from their balcony down to the garden. He had even covered the path, so that she could stroll amongst her blooms in the rain as she often liked to do. Now, captain and vice captain sat side-to-side with the tray between them. Renji poured for his captain, and remembered the first time he'd done so, he'd shaken the bottle so it clattered against the cup. His new taichou had scowled at him them, straightfaced yet with his eyes so witheringly displeased that Renji had felt like burying himself right then and there.
He poured for himself too, and they lifted their cups together. "Are we toasting anything?"
Byakuya's eyes slid over to him. "I drink to your recovery, and may you live a long life that does not end with a mortal injury."
Obviously his taichou's mind had turned back to more morbid topics, like the last time he'd gone to Hueco Mundo and bled most of his life out into the white sands. "Then I'll drink to your happiness, taichou." And he lifted the cup towards his mouth.
Byakuya didn't do the same. "Why do you say that, Renji?"
Renji huffed, and pressed one finger right between his captain's eyebrows. "If ya don't lighten up, taichou, that valley is gonna become permanent, ya know." He'd never touched his captain so frivolously before; the newness of it sent an electric thrill through him.
Byakuya wordlessly turned back to the sunset, paused to watch the sun dissolve in his cup, before downing it in one go. Renji had been expecting an answer, but after Byakuya set his cup down in the tray, it became apparent that Byakuya wasn't in the mood to give a response, though at the very least he didn't seem much angry for being teased.
Soon the first stars began to bloom in the sky, winking far above them. Renji must've made a noise, because Byakuya turned to him and asked, "Is something wrong?"
"Huh? Oh no, just thinking."
"A dangerous and possibly traumatizing experience for you," Byakuya delivered back swiftly.
So there was the cutting response. "Ha, taichou, just watch. I'll out-think you one of these days, just watch." His brazen grin was met with just the slightest upturn of what was usually a stoic facade. They were both remembering that time when Byakuya had been commanded to give up his fukutaichou to fill a recently opened captain position. The both of them had gone to Yamamoto-soutaichou to politely decline the offer together.
"I look forward to it, Renji." Renji filled their cups and they drank again.
"You believe I can do so?" Byakuya's answering look could only be described as After all, I trained you. "I don't even believe I can do that." Not that his taichou never fell for a trap - just that he was far smarter and far more familiar in all kinds of political tricks that Renji couldn't hope to learn.
"Have faith, Renji." He held out his cup, and when it was filled he held out his hand for the bottle too. Confusedly, Renji handed it over. "Pick up your cup." Again, the befuddled fukutaichou did so.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed when Byakuya moved to fill his cup. "Err, taichou? I can fill the cup myself, ya know?"
"Allow me," Byakuya pressed, and steadied Renji's hand with his own. He poured until only the slightest lip around the cup remained. "Now, drink."
Renji stared at the cup, then back of him. Unlike years before, when the polished noble had first met the redheaded Rukongai rat, Renji was now highly aware of the honor that Byakuya had so casually bestowed upon him with such a simple action. His hand shook a little and sake spilled, just a little onto his fingers, sliding around the edge of the porcelain dish.
Quick as an eagle, Byakuya lifted the hand and ran his tongue against the knuckles. He licked and sucked until the spilled sake was gone.
By now Renji's mouth was halfway open, and his face had a decent blush on it, even in the fading light. It darkened with Byakuya's next words: "Shame on you, for spilling. Since you seem so reluctant, I will drink." And he lifted Renji's hand (which might have been made of stone at this point, he felt positively calcified with bewilderment), and tilting it a little, gulped the sake down so Renji could see his white throat bob.
When he was finished, he calmly plucked the dish from Renji's nerveless hands, and placed it into the tray. Frozen, Renji realized with no little fear that Byakuya was looking towards his next move, and if it wasn't satisfactory there'd be hell to pay, just like all the training Byakuya provided him.
"Taichou," he barely breathed, "you've got a little here." His other hand cradled Byakuya's head forward, as if to look closer.
Just before they kissed, Byakuya's eyes shone with approval.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: ByaRen
Rating: G...? PG for a kiss...?
Notes: lol it ended up being Bleach after all...direct sequel to the one above.
--------------
LOL post too big! So I'll make another post for 06.16 - 06.30.
1. death's shadow grows
He remembers what they said.
Pretender. Wannabe. Imposter. He closes his eyes. Fake.
He'd tested his own steel against the boy's - he knew what kind of quality it was made of. The shining quality that doesn't break. He would vouch for the boy's sword-arm if not for his casual manner, his careless grace. Until he falls by the wayside.
He's seen the way his sister looks at him, like she believes he could do anything, despite her rude upbringing. He won't begrudge her that belief. He won't prevent her from running to his side, her face alight - because he is gentle. He's a healer's only son, who has known loss all his life.
He trusts this impulse.
The boy's power grows again. He'd found it slowly. He'd coaxed it to a flame, braved danger because of it - fed it to a hearthfire. Then he'd lost it to save them, people that weren't even his, people who hissed behind his back. They called him fraud but no, not the kind that really mattered.
His generosity and his honor shine like polished gold even as death's shadow grows, doubles and triples as nothing ever should. Byakuya watches, heart in his throat, as Kurosaki strides on into the future as if no doubt could ever taint him, Rukia's figure bobbing at his side.
What are you really?, he asked Kurosaki once, just before the wedding.
He remembers Kurosaki's response, so certain despite their content: I don't know. But I hope it's good enough.
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: G
Notes: not that I didn't already know I love Byakuya...
Title:
2. strength like a tower
He turned to her in a rare moment of surprise. "You knew," he said, and at the bewildered hint in his voice she laughed and waved the words away.
"Of course I knew, I was with one or the other all the time. Dai-chan and Tetsu-kun. Anybody else might be fooled but - well. I've known Dai-chan from kindergarten, geez."
Yes, she remembered. She remembered how in fourth grade she brushed her hair back in a ponytail, and how the nastiest boy in the whole class had laughed at her forehead. She remembered covering it up, she remembered the other girls scolding him, she remembered huddling in the corner of the classroom, hands clapped over her ears.
It didn't prevent her from hearing the almighty crash as Daiki picked up the idiot's desk, and tossed it into the corridor.
Tears still on her face, she'd watched as he hit him, pulled at his hair, called him all sorts of names. Teased him for still liking Anpanman. Tore up his prized notebook with the sketch of Inazuma Eleven that even the art teacher had praised.
She remembered thinking then Strength like a tower, but how will he use it? and that being the last thing she thought about before she drifted off to sleep. She thought about it for many nights to come, until finally she recognized what she had to do.
"What..." and finally for the first time in their very winding conversation did Kagami look a touch uncomfortable, "...what kind of relationship did they have?"
"I wish I could say for sure." She had her guesses but she'd always been too afraid to prod too deeply into it. "I only know it was...deep."
Kagami's eyes bore into her then, one sharp stab of intent before he turned away, jaw tightening. She could see the questions forming and dissipating in his head. However, she didn't have to wonder at what made him ask these kinds of questions.
"Do you think they're still -" she could see him balk at the word, "- in love?"
"No," she answered, and wondered if Tetsuya had been anything more than an outlet and a pleasant distraction.
Maybe strength had been what Tetsuya thought he wanted back then, but now he knew better. He needed something more, and now Momoi thought she might know who would give that to him.
Kagami must've seen something sure in her face, because the scowl rubbed off into thoughtful indifference. "Thanks," he said gruffly, and hopped off the wall to where Tetsuya was coming towards them, three ice cream cones in hand.
Thank yourself, she thought as she watched the strength of his back and the careful way he plucked the ice cream cone from Tetsuya's hands. With a smile, she leapt down too to join them.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: G?? PG??
Notes: I kind of like Momoi actually...
Title:
3. they met once more
They met again at the same riverbank that they had before. Miyata had settled down in his trainingwear, having done a whole half loop to cool down before he sat, admiring the sunset. The grass was so tall around him that likely Makunouchi had literally almost stumbled over him when they saw each other.
"Miyata-kun?" His eyes were wide as he saw the other boxer sitting there in the grass.
"Makunouchi," he greeted back. "Are you searching for something?"
He launched into a story about how his dog has slipped its collar because it was old and had been falling off and how he'd usually just leave it except it had their family name and address on it (though privately Miyata thought that anyone could get the same information out of a phone book). Stretching his legs a little wouldn't be so bad, so they poked around the surrounding areas until Makunouchi's hand darted into the soil and declared with a bright grin of triumph, "Got it!"
"Hmm," Miyata answered agreeably, and settled down right where he'd been looking.
The sun was well and setting by this time, and seeing it Makunouchi sighed. The dog tags clinked softly in the wind. It was spring, and the air was moist with the beginnings of the seasonal rains. Miyata snuck a glance at his once-rival and wondered what was going on in that spiky head.
Finally Makunouchi spoke with a smile. "I haven't got any juice on me, but I remember where the nearest vending machine is." The offer wasn't as shy as it was, once.
"I don't need it," Miyata replied, but even after he watched Makunouchi disappear down the other side of the hill he didn't move.
He didn't feel like moving. The sun was warm on his face and his body was still warm from the exercise. He found his mind wandering in and out of boxing, Makunouchi, his own travels and trials, then back to Makunouchi. He remembered when he'd come to tear their shared dream apart. He remembered Makunouchi's eyes, wide as they stared up at him, full of grief and shock.
It seemed so far away.
A rustle next to him, and Makunouchi sat down next to him, about an elbow's length away. He had picked out sports drinks for them. Their eyes met as Makunouchi passed the bottle over, but he didn't read hostility, or guilt, or even resignment.
"How's your father?"
"Good. Your mother?" He remembered Kimura telling him about the time she collapsed.
"She's doing well. Did you see Boxing Monthly yet?"
He snorted. "That horrible article about the bear suit?"
Makunouchi laughed. "I don't know when anybody had time to rip hair off of it, much less get forensic evidence on it being painted."
"Some enterprising fellow who hates Takamura." Miyata wasn't disappointed when Makunouchi lifted his head back and laughed again. "Where is your dog today, anyway?"
"Oh - Wanpo went off with Manabu-kun." He looked over to where Makunouchi scrunched his knees so he could rest his chin between them. "He's got a match coming up."
And how are you, he wanted to ask. The question almost made it out of his throat. How are you, now that I've left you behind?
Nothing negative at all showed on Makunouchi's face as he stood up. "It was nice to see you again, Miyata-kun," he offered shyly, and stuck out a hand to lift Miyata to his feet.
He took it. "Same," he murmured back, taciturn as usual. It didn't seem to darken Makunouchi's spirit a bit, though Miyata thought he could see a little hint of reluctance in his eyes now.
"I'll see you around," he said regardless. Miyata watched his back grow smaller and smaller as he disappeared towards his side of town. The last of the sun faded with that figure.
He was suddenly glad in the gathering dark. Because in the end he moved past the hope I crushed. The dream I couldn't hold onto, for both our sakes.
Because he found something better to work towards.
Fandom: Hajime no Ippo
Rating: G
Notes: Uhh I never thought I'd write this fandom again...
Title:
4. sing and rejoice
"Franky," a voice behind him hailed softly.
He turned to find Bakaburg there. His hair had grown a little thinner, his wrinkles a little more chiseled, but all in all it was the same visage that Franky had seen every day growing up. And of course, there was always the core of Iceburg that never changed: something worried and mothering and warm, contrary to his name.
Of course, Franky snorted, ice also felt soft and warm after you'd lain in it for too long. He'd had first hand experience with that this time.
"Bakaburg," he sneered affectionately, and instead of turning it into their regular screaming match Iceburg only lifted his head back and laughed, a golden sound. "That's so nostalgic!" he exclaimed, leaning casually against the balcony. "It's really been years."
"Long years," Franky agreed. Those kids had dragged him all the way around the world. Twice. And only when Usopp started to feel the pull of home did they think about traveling back this way again, towards Water 7.
"You know they have a song for you guys now, right?"
Franky grinned. "No kidding. What's it about?"
"Oh, it just gives the basic outline of who everyone is. Your part goes:
Franky builder and shipwright
With arms like hunks of steel
In cogs and wood are his true might
The Sunny boat is his
In this golden pirates' age
Sail on! Sail on!
With hope of being King someday
Dream on! Dream on!"
Iceburg's voice was pitched low, as to not wake the partygoers who had finally settled down on the floor for the night. His voice was husky from overuse - no doubt from yelling at all of his engineers, who were putting the final touches on the floating fortress before they tried it out.
Franky chuckled when he was done. "Whoever made that didn't know how to rhyme," he commented.
"They left me out too," Iceburg said wistfully, and Franky turned to him, surprised.
"You want a song about yourself? Bones could -"
"Ah," Iceburg held up his hand, a wry smile on his face. "That's not what I meant. I mean I'm not in that song with you."
Franky stopped at that, and really looked at his once-adopted brother that had scorned him, teased him, and yet pushed him to make greater, better things. Behind the cool generosity and shrewd businesslike manner, he knew Iceburg could take great care in the things that mattered to him. And of course his nakama all knew (because they were just good at reading him like that) but he didn't think the one other person in the world closest to his heart had understood just how disappointed he'd been when at the end of their jaunt to Enies Lobby, Iceburg had given him one last headlock (not literally), sat down in his chair, and turned away.
"It was a good trip," he said carefully. He was glad for his sunglasses, even now at night, though Iceburg could probably read every twitch he made otherwise. "But yeah, it wasn't the same without you."
Iceburg looked all the more guilty for having been forgiven. "Franky, I -"
"You did good here too," Franky pressed on. "You were there for all the people I had to leave behind."
Iceburg shook his head. "It was the least I could do."
"You didn't have to."
"Of course I did." And he saw the resolve in Iceburg's face, overshadowing the distant shame and weakness. "They're your family. This whole island is where you grew up. I couldn't leave you nowhere to come home to."
"Then you did the right thing." Iceburg looked away. "You did what I couldn't."
There was a long pause. "Franky, I - I don't think I ever want to leave. I like to build and I'm happy with my work now. Water 7 is what's important to me, and not just because it's our roots."
"I know."
"I'm not like you - maybe because you've got pirate blood, you're more restless than me."
"Yeah."
"I - Franky, I wish I could -"
"Bakaburg." His mechanical hands closed gently around his brother's shoulders. "I'm staying."
"But then you can't -"
"I'm staying."
Iceburg looked up at him then, and there was something tender and cracking there that Franky hated to see. It was the shell coming away, and Iceburg's strength set aside for the moment as he searched Franky's face for any faults, any hint of a lie.
Finally he smiled. "I'm glad. But will you follow my orders this time, Franky?"
"Heh. Try and make me, Bakaburg."
Iceburg chortled again at the name. "Welcome home, Franky."
"It's good to be back."
Fandom: One Piece
Rating: G...uhh I guess Franky+Iceburg if you reeeeeally squint
Notes: I wrote moar...yyyyy...
Totle:
5. nameless hills
That night he had a strange dream.
At first he was running in the air. Then slowly, surely, he realized he was dropping from the sky rapidly, so he ran faster. Soon the ground appeared beneath him, nameless hills of orange and brown, all uniform and springy as rubber under his sneakers as he ran.
Soon he realized he actually wasn't running anywhere. The ground was passing faster and faster under him, and suddenly his eyes were seeing his own figure from above, his black hair and his Seirin basketball club uniform, sprinting across the face of a basketball. He was only a dot on the canvas of bumps. And then he couldn't see himself at all anymore.
Pale hands clamped down on the ball from both sides and stopped its dizzying spinning. He looked up and Kuroko was there, white and clad in his birthday suit. He unbashedly held out the ball but Kagami ran, finding the area behind him was only sky, and he was falling -
"Are you mad?" Kuroko asked sleepily, and after a moment Kagami realized he couldn't possibly be talking to anyone but him. The dark ceiling of Kuroko's room materialized hazily above the two of them.
"No," he murmured, eyes already closing and drifting back to sleep.
"Then this is okay?" Hands snaked around his torso, pulled him close.
Sleepily his hands found the back of Kuroko's head, and tugged it towards him until it was nestled under his chin. "Sleep," he muttered, and breathing in the clean scent of soap and mint and boy, he let himself go.
He slept through the night like a stone, Kuroko firmly ensconced at his side.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: Uhhh PG for boy cuddling.
Notes: This was supposed to be longer...but my damn comp deleted it. GAR.
Title:
6. deep roots (A)
The shallowest part is the flower. Pink and with petals soft and yet firm as they stretch towards the sun. In some Asian countries they open as large as a person's face, in purple and pink and white. Mukuro likes the pink ones the best. They look like hearts to him, somehow - flesh wrapped around something yellow and sunny.
Connecting flower to leaf is a stalk of green that pumps life into the flower. That woud be like the motivation of a person. When they walk on the street, what are their goals? Their dreams? Their direction? Something points them towards where they want to go, and fuels their reactions.
Down below is the leaf, where the waterline is - sometimes it spills over and the whole thing is consumed. Other times the underground world creeps slowly over the green until it's barely floating on top. When the leaf moves, so does the flower. When the flower moves, so does the leaf.
Is that all this Family is? A measly plant, easily crushed?
No. Because its roots are strong. No. Because Tsunayoshi has a base hidden deep underwater, so deep in the murk that it's amazing something so pure and beautiful could rise from such a hideous history.
No. What he fears most is, that he and Tsunayoshi will never be free.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: vague 6927 or 69+27
Rating: G
Notes: uhhh yeah I find Mukuro easier and easier to write...
Title:
6. deep roots (B)
In the dark, Naoe Nagi lifted one stalk and stared at it dispassionately.
The inside of the Koneko was eerily bereft of its usual chatter and the appearance of its four guardians winding their way around the tables. Now, the only illumination was from the back door, which he'd forced open, and a smallish oval window towards the front, the angle of which would be impossible to actually hit anyone inside of the shop.
From the bucket in his arms, he scattered more dead stalks on the floor. Around the register, the iris section, the lilies, the orchids, the roses and tulips, he lay them down in the dark. He circled around front, to where the usual little bouquets went, along with stacks of clear plastic adorned with bow motifs and multicolored spools of ribbon to match.
He passed a poster with a caricature of the four, their leader with scowling even in miniature...a list of months and their related flowers...a well-read sticky of common flowers and their meanings...an outdated price list from behind an anthuriam...and then he was back. The next layer he did carefully, stepping over dead flowers, clods of soil, water stains on the floor. The smell of gasoline made him wrinkle his nose.
Last of all he piled the last of the dead, unused plants from the back right inside the door, and dipped the end of a long branch of cherry into the gasoline can. Dry-eyed, he lit it with Schu's old lighter, put it right on top of the pile, and then closed the door.
He went around front to watch, just a dark shadow with a pale face, one in a hundred thousand in this wide city. He watched until from the little window up top, he could see the flicker of red and orange glowing dimly inside.
Only then did he let himself cry. Maybe they were brothers in all but blood - he'd spent so many days watching them, drinking their pain, living their sorrow as Schwarz had stalked their prey - but Schu and Crawford and Farfar had been his brothers too, the only family he'd ever known. Maybe Weiss was made of people who had known warmth, and then threw it away. Did that make their actions better? Did that make them more forgivable?
Nagi didn't think so. He was the only one who came back. He'd come home to assassins chasing him in the street and their old apartment blown to pieces when he tried to enter. All while Weiss licked their wounds, huddled together, and recovered.
He wouldn't bother them anymore. Their double lives had always been a farce. Them playing in the soil, flirting with the girls, smiling at their customers - their humanity hadn't stopped them from killing the three people closest to him in all the world. This would be his last act of defiance against them and their sweet denial of the truth.
They were killers, like him, like Craw and Schu and Farfar - their deep roots couldn't be hidden.
Inside, there came the muted sound of ceramic pots falling. He mouthed into the wind, Live your truth, and turned away to leave. But there was someone standing right behind him, so softly that even he hadn't heard.
It was the one that was young like him. Omi. His eyes were open wide and his mouth a little open in shadow as he stared at Nagi but then abruptly found the words wouldn't come out.
Nagi regarded him steadily. They could both hear pots bursting inside, and the grinding sound of metal collapsing. Finally smoke had started to seep from the ruin, and a hint of of ash made Nagi's twitch.
Aren't you going to shoot?, he wanted to ask, but Omi seemed dumbfounded and not at all eager to chat. Go on, send me home to my brothers.
But Omi said nothing. Omi hadn't even heard, because ever since their last battle Nagi couldn't speak. When it seemed like the little cat wasn't going to do anything to stop him, Nagi pushed past him into the midnight streets of Tokyo.
When Omi finally turned to ask him where he was going, he had already melted back into the shadows.
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: G
Notes: WOW...man I didn't even think I could remember Naoe Nagi's name @.@;;;
Title:
7. summers that have been
"Gokudera," he murmured. Rain fell all around their little cafe umbrella as if the whole ocean had decided to pour down over their heads. "I lied. The first time I kissed you was that first summer."
"The first summer when we went ten years later? That was a whole two years before you started acting all mushy." He paused only a moment in dressing the hole in Yamamoto's ribs. Hunched under the tilted umbrella, from the street no one would be able to tell there were two bleeding and possibly doomed mafioso, though the umbrella looked like it'd seen better days. As it was, it was still trickling water inside.
"Haha OW you pull really hard on bandages, Gokudera." As if to prove that point the other Guardian pointedly gave him another yank, which had Yamamoto laughing nervously again. "Yeah, while you were sleeping I stole a kiss."
Gokudera rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you did that because you suddenly felt I was irresistably hot while I slept?"
"Haha no actually OW!"
"Then why?"
Rubbing his side ruefully where Gokudera had finally tied the bandages in a knot, he muttered something under his breath. A tick working up his jaw, Gokudera gritted out, "I can't hear you, baka."
"You kicked me," Yamamoto said louder this time.
The words took a moment to sink in. "I kicked you?"
"Yeah."
"That's not a freaking reason."
"Yeah it is. You kicked me right here." Yamamoto pointed to his knee. "Really hard. And then I fell but I avoided hitting your face with my hand and leaned down too far so..."
"So you stole my first kiss by accident."
Yamamoto perked a little at that. "I was your first kiss?"
Gokudera cuffed him, annoyed. "That doesn't matter."
"Gokudera, there're lots of people today who don't end up with their first kisses -"
"I know that." Gokudera chomped down on his cigarette with a growl.
"-that's the reason you stayed with me?"
"No, I stayed with you for your witty conversation and stellar personality."
Yamamoto laughed, pleased. "Why thank you, Gokudera."
"I wasn't serious!" But Yamamoto only laughed again, and Gokudera settled down with a huff, knowing he'd fallen for that far too easily. "Oh, just shaddap already."
A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and blinking through the rain that the umbrella very clearly failed to keep out, Gokudera half-turned. "What," he started to ask, but his cigarette was abruptly stolen and Yamamoto pressed his lips against the corner of his mouth, before kissing him fully.
"I fell in love with you long before that, though," he murmured in the scant space between them.
"The months before we went on that crazy adventure."
"Yeah." And his eyes were gold even when it was so gray and dark, Gokudera thought he might melt in them forever. "The very first time I saw you."
He snorted. "Mushball," he admonished gruffly. But he didn't object when Yamamoto took his hand as they waited out the rain.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: 8059
Rating: G
Notes: yeaaah...can't get away from this pairing...
Title:
8. a wandering light
He appeared suddenly out of nowhere, as usual.
"Holy shit!" Kagami snapped off, irritated. "Will you stop doing that?"
The look on the shade's face didn't change a whit, yet there was some sort of hidden smugness or amusement behind his eyes, Kagami just knew it. "I thought you might like to know that there's an oni among the students."
"What?!" He didn't have to be Nataku reincarnated to know that was a bad thing. "Where? Who is he?"
"It's a girl," the shade informed him. "Aida Riko, manager of the basketball club."
He froze in his tracks. Basketball. That little orange ball and hoop that he'd fallen in love with while he'd been in America, perfecting his admittedly semi-pyromanic skills. But he'd had that last match with Tatsuya and he'd given it up. It'd proved he couldn't play it back then, and he couldn't play it now.
But... "An oni," he frowned contemplatively.
"Yes."
"What'll you do?" The sunlight that usually would've just cut through the shade flickered over him, patterning his face with the shadow of the trees above them. For a moment Kagami was disoriented; he'd only known Kuroko for a summer since he'd come back to Japan, yet for a moment his heart doubted himself. Why was he trusting a shade anyway? One that had come so suddenly into his life? One that refused to move on?
"I'll join the basketball team with you, to investigate her."
Kagami glanced at him. He could feel the pulse of his wheels even from where he stood, a full arm's length away. He knew he would be able to feel it even if he was fifty kilometers, or fifty thousand kilometers away. Those wheels were also what allowed the shade tangibility, and solidification - and since Kagami couldn't be riding his wheels in school halls (he could already imagine the other students screaming their heads off), Kuroko was the perfect place to store them.
"You'd better stick close to me, then." He looked the shade up and down, frowning still. He wasn't a doctor or anything, but even he had to question whether Kuroko even had the physical condition to contribute at all to a sports team.
There was a muted gleam in his eyes too that Kagami didn't like somehow. "Do you like basketball, Kagami-kun?"
Yes. "I played it while I was in America," he allowed.
"And you liked it?"
Until he made me swear to never play it again.
"Yeah," he admitted grudgingly.
"It'll be fun, Kagami-kun," Kuroko told him, and he snorted. "Really. I'll help you like I do now."
"You help me now because you want to stay solid and visible." He shook his head, wondering why and how he'd gotten saddled with such a character. "What'd you do before me, anyway? Don't you have other people to beguile you into giving you life energy?"
Kuroko didn't look away, though the bluntness of the question had to hurt. "There were others," he said slowly. "But gradually I didn't want to take from them anymore."
"Life energy is energy, isn't it?"
"Maybe for other shades," Kuroko nodded. "But not for me."
And that's why I let him use my wheels, Kagami thought. "Where's the oni then?" he asked.
Kuroko never smiled, yet Kagami could feel he was gratefully doing it somehow. "Do you want to see her now?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's go together, Kagami-kun."
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: G
Notes: all inspired by this supernatural related fic...but I always thought it'd be cool of Kuroko was a ghost. But then I don't want him DEAD dead, you know? So I made him a shade. Though honestly I'm just pulling this out of my ass and don't really know the difference @.@;;;;
Title:
9. beyond the sunset
Arms snaked around his torso. "Hey there tanki-kun."
"Who're you calling tanki," Gokudera snorted. He flicked his cigarette over the rail and leaned back into the embrace. He fit there snugly as if he'd been born to it.
They stared out together over the waves - well, Gokudera did. He wasn't sure what Yamamoto was looking at. The boat under them barely shifted at all. He remembered he used to be scared of cruise ships back when he was little, because of their size, but now that he was grown he couldn't imagine what he'd been scared of. Then again, perhaps he was only foolishly fearless because everything he wanted was his.
Now what?, his brain whispered. You've put up the white picket fence, strode beyond the sunset, so what's next?
This was his dream, wasn't it? A Family, a good boss, a loving partner. This was what his own father failed to provide, and thus sent Gokudera running away from home to look for. This was what had made him stay though other Families, other organizations had invited him away from the Vongola.
What did he have left to do? Nothing. All he had to do was keep his boss alive and live to a ripe old age himself, and then voila! Finished.
He glared at the pretty sunset. No, that didn't settle at all. That didn't -
- an explosion rocked the boat slightly. Both of them tensed, then spun to face each other. "What was that?" Gokudera demanded, eyes darting towards the door.
"Haha I think I saw Tsuna on board earlier -"
"On our honeymoon boat? Why the hell would the Tenth be here??"
"Well I'm not positive that it was him -"
"You mean it could be Kozato?! That poses an even bigger problem - why the hell is he here?!"
"Haha or it could be us, Gokudera."
The words made him pause. Then slowly Gokudera smiled.
"Because we're the backbone of our Family."
"Yeah."
"And the pride of the Vongola."
"Uh-huh."
"And the Tenth would cry if we died."
"Let's go check if that's really him first," Yamamoto suggested.
Gokudera only smirked in return. "It never ends, does it?" he snarled, sticking his gun back in its shoulder holster. His earlier maudlin mood had evaporated. "We're on freaking vacation and we still get attacked."
"They really want us, I guess." Yamamoto was packing too. "If they wanted to see two 'eligible bachelors' boinking each other."
"Hey." He jerked the idiot's collar towards him so they were nose-to-nose. "It's more than that."
Yamamoto's eyes went light when he was surprised, the pupil contracting before it widened again. Gokudera could read those eyes like a book, and right now they told him that Yamamoto really wanted to kiss him, which they currently had no time for. "Gokudera -" he said as he leaned forward -
- Gokudera put his hand in his partner's face and pushed back hard. "Let's go," he commanded, and the two of them whipped out the door back to back, like a hundred times before.
He was no longer searching. He was already living his new dream.
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Rating: G
Notes: same old 8059 fare
Title:
10. golden roof and silver floor
The crowds had roared when he'd come out. They'd screamed in every language, every dialect, but even in Japanese the only word that he could hear was his name, Taiga Taiga tigertigertiger until it was all squashed into one long phrase that never ended.
On the bench, nursing one broken arm with his other, Daiki nodded once, slowly at him. Momoi would be in the back, watching the screens. And Ryouta and Midorima would be watching with their own teams. He had no idea where Tatsuya was, but he hoped he could see him now, with the ring around his neck and the ball flying towards him, passed unseen.
Kuroko was only the merest shade, moving like a pale ball among pins, striking left and right like some bizarre mirror of Kagami. He didn't like cameras; he shied away from the big ones that would show where he was, and hid himself among the larger, older, heavier players. He was faster than Kagami now - skill had been slow to come to him, but in Seirin he'd made leaps and bounds. He hoped Coach Aida was out there too, watching them.
As fierce and golden as the sun, he'd slammed and crashed and slammed again, until the ball was so tight in his hands the texture left marks on his hands. The whole floor shook with pounds, cheers, the noise of thousands of spectators. The whole place had been shining like the roof was on fire.
Now it was utterly silent and devoid of life. The moon shafted in from the tall windows, stepping across the bleachers where his own parents had sat to cheer him on. The ground was silver with moonlight now; janitors had swept away all traces of the game. No cups and straws, food wrappers, or even drops of sweat remained in the once-sweltering stadium.
Only him and his shadow.
As usual there was no sound, before he raised his eyes and found Kuroko standing there. His hands still hurt from clutching the ball so hard. His breath still quickened when he remembered how the two of them had dashed, passing back and forth, the air only a brief hiss before they watched the ball sink through the hoop with a swish. His feet still hurt when it'd ended and he'd swung Kuroko around and around like a doll, a roar of victory ripping from his throat.
"Are you happy, Kagami-kun?"
He sat down on the moonlit floor with a sigh. The magic had happened here. The magic had come from the slip of shade that had been his constant companion since high school. And Kagami was glad of it, fiercely and powerfully so.
He huffed with a smile. "Aren't you?"
Kuroko's smile was very small, but it might as well been a delighted laugh. "Yes, Kagami-kun." His smile faded. "But what will you do now? We've gone nearly all the places you've wanted to go."
The journey's more important than the end, Teppei had said to him right before they'd carted him back to the hospital.
If you ever disappoint him, I'll kill you, Midorima had told him before they left Japan.
Do you know what you are?, Kuroko had murmured as he wrapped his fingers slowly and methodically. You're my light.
He stood suddenly, looking down at the still, faint figure that had followed him this far. "It doesn't matter where we go," he said, but the words rang like bells inside the empty stadium, echoing and whispering everywhere.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, just stay with me." Taking that one step closer brought Kuroko's head mere centimeters before his shoulder. His heart pounded sonorously in his ears. "I still need you."
Kuroko crossed the little distance and dug his forehead into Kagami's shoulder. Kagami's arms automatically came up to hold him there, digging hesitantly into the whitish hair. For someone so pallid and unsubstantial, Kuroko was still so warm from his shower and the little bit of wine he'd sipped at dinner. He smelled clean and new and before Kagami knew it, he'd nuzzled that head with his nose.
"What is this?" he whispered. He was confused; this was so far outside the realm of basketball it was practically another dimension of understanding.
"I think this means we like each other," Kuroko answered. His arms came around and hugged Kagami back tightly.
"Oh." And with the world explained to rights with a few simple words, Kagami closed his eyes and leaned on the one he trusted the most.
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairing: Kagami/Kuroko
Rating: G
Notes: yeah still can't get away from this pairing either lol
Title:
11. the world of woven trees
Here in the trees, he could watch without being noticed.
The teacher always came in the morning, as opposed to Kakashi himself who came at night. He always washed his hands and mouth very cleanly at the entrance, and then carried some of the water up to the stone. Sometimes he would splash names; other times he dipped his fingers into the ladle and smeared them instead.
Then, wooden ladle held horizontally, he would clap his hands in prayer and bow. He performed these absolutions with an air of grave clarity, as if he'd accepted their passing for a long time now, yet never ceased to forget what presence they'd held in their lives. Once when he'd left Kakashi had even gone down to see what names he honored - but though he knew some, many were still foreign to him. Even in the shinobi world, they still kept different acquaintances.
Ever since Naruto (and Sasuke too) he'd kept his eye on this little sensei who had taught love, acceptance, caring where Kakashi had been taught discipline, indifference and the merits of hermitude. Of course he'd been scornful in the beginning, before he realized - the little sensei wasn't half wrong. More often than not, his students turned out to have good, solid cores.
He made it a point to watch on the mornings he could. Through the screen of woven trees, he watched as the little sensei clapped his hands, and bowed. Then, with a very significant look in Kakashi's direction, he marched back out of the graveyard.
Kakashi checked the stone first once he'd left. He'd watered his old teammates of course, but today only two more names were highlighted too. Obito and Rin.
He was waiting right around the corner from the cemetary. "I was wondering if you could stop spying on me in the morning," Iruka said as a way of greeting.
"When'd you find out?"
Iruka pointed to the wall of the alleyway in answer. Made of brick, there were tick marks on it scratched by a kunai, it looked like. There were a lot of scratches.
The next morning Kakashi was waiting at the entrance. They washed their hands and mouths together, and carried two ladlefuls up to the rock. Then they splashed the names, clapped, and bowed in unison.
As the sun rose behind them, Iruka turned to him at last with something that was the closest to a smile that Kakashi had ever seen aimed at him. "Good morning, Hatake-san," the little sensei greeted formally.
"Good morning, Iruka-sensei."
They watched the city come to life together.
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: G
Pairing: Kakashi + Iruka
Notes: aaand here's to branching out in new fandoms. Though I guess I've been reading Naruto fanfiction for so long it's not exactly 'new'.
Title:
12. there in a far country
Dear Stupid Colonel,
I'm in Xiao Long Fung now, like I was telling you before. The place where the old man liked to go when he was in the Qiantan Province. I hate to say it, but I can really see why - it's really beautiful here. The locals pole boats out over the lake to fish, with these black cormorants with rope tied around their necks so they don't swallow the fish they catch.
It looked like he'd had regular contact with this rentanjutsu master, Huang Laozi or whatever. I asked Ling about him (I mean excuse me, the Holy Emperor) and he said he'd never heard of him (rather, there were lots of Huang Laozis but none that were rentanjutsu specialists). I found the cave he lived in, but it looks to have been deserted for some time. The locals don't really know where he went either.
I haven't picked up on anything particularly incriminating, but that they don't know anything in such a communal society smells fishy. I'll be staying here for another two weeks so feel free to bother me here at that time.
I hope you're not mistreating Lieutenant Hawkeye while I'm gone. I saw Winry right at the border so she could give me a tune-up, and she looked fine, if sad that both me and Al ended up wandering around. I told her she could always phone Hawkeye or Havoc for help, but she says even with the ban they're still doing alright. There's no ban here in Xing, of course. Then again, Ishval is clear on the other side of Amestris, so I suppose what trade they do have wouldn't be affected.
Recently Al's gone into this whole thing of "relax while you work" so to please him I took a room sitting over the water (though that also makes me kind of twitchy; I keep waiting for the bed to go through the planks and send me into ice cold wakefulness at night). It's nice to hear the waves on the shore, and see the weird-shaped mountains in the distance. It's cool in the morning because of the fog, and from my window I can see the local girls getting water from the well, draped in that long-cloth style with the bright colored prints. Most of them don't know Amestrian though, which is making interrogation difficult.
Ha, I bet you'd love to switch with me right now, you slacker. Reading 5000 page tomes of rentanjutsu, stretching your legs around the lake, occasionally hitting on a local - aaaaall your realm of expertise, isn't it Colonel? "Exercising the mind and the body" was it that you told me that one time?
Anyways, I've enclosed a report about what I've been researching, mainly the circles for how to suck iron from beans and spinach, hope you don't mind the recent green research I've been following. Russell would have a conniption if he thought I was competing with him again.
I heard the little Hughes started third grade? You did go see her off the first day, didn't you? Even if you had to brave the St. Bernard puppy from hell?
Oh, and along with the whole relaxing thing I get the feeling Al isn't telling me something. He hasn't said something about a girl, has he? Actually, you'd better make that written reply permanent, and NOW. You can even tell the Lieutenant that it's work.
Keep safe and healthy, bastard colonel,
Your no-longer Fullmetal alchemist
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: holy crap it's G
Notes: this is probably like, the first time I've written unpairing in this fandom. Since like, years ago.
Title:
13. voices at the door
"But what do we say?!" Kise wailed on their way to Kagami's apartment. "What'd you tell them anyway? What're they expecting? What're the right manners for this kind of thing anyway?!"
"I didn't tell the rest of them anything, because we visit once a month anyway. Undoubtedly that Bakagami will make food as usual and we'll all sit down to eat it. Nothing new there."
"But Kurocchi will know! And what if he tells Kagamicchi! What if everyone's looking at us funny?!"
Aomine punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Idiot, they didn't make a fuss when Tetsu came out. They'll probably just nod and say nothing if the subject comes up."
Kise smacked his forehead against his palm repeatedly, pausing only to get out of the car. A little part of him wanted to run far, far away from the whole thing (which was eons away from basketball, girl-talking and modeling, three things that Kise was much better at). The other part of him, the part that was rapidly shrinking, was telling him to suck it up and announce it to the world. After all, if he couldn't say it to his old teammates then he probably wouldn't be able to say it to his parents either.
"Wait," he said, and grabbed Aomine's arm as he pressed the button for the elevator. "Wait, we can't just go in without a plan."
Aomine, predictably, rolled his eyes. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "Here's my plan: fuck you over the table and then they'll get the point."
Kise scoffed. "You are not going to have me on the dinner table."
"Why not, already did it at our place."
"That was our place! This is Kagamicchi's apartment - you know, the one that gives evil stares when we make butt lines on his precious sofa?!"
"Then what do you suggest?" Aomine finally looked like he was starting to think seriously about this whole thing.
"I - I..." Kise trailed off uncertainly. He didn't know how, really.
"Do you think we should tell them?"
"Yes," Kise said unhappily.
"Then let's just tell them."
"But when?" Kise cried. "Right when we walk in the door?"
"Why not?"
"That defies all rules of decency and manners, Aominecchi!"
Aomine looked heavenward with an exasperated sigh. "If you wanted Miss Manners, you should've picked a chick. You're good at that, aren't you? Then you could even pop out some mini-Ryoutas."
Kise glared at him, fuming. Aomine stared stonily back. "You can't possibly mean that," Kise finally said.
"Oh really," his roommate bluffed back. "Did you want to add the 3Ms too?" [1]
"And what about Momocchi," Kise bit back venomously. Aomine's childhood friend still didn't know, though 'at long last' she'd finally turned her attentions away from her precious Tetsu-kun. Recently she'd started courting Aomine (though Kise had been there before so he could sympathize somewhat; it was really like courting a very dense and well-shaped brick wall) as if that'd been her intentions all along, and Aomine's half-hearted attempts at fobbing her off were starting to annoy him.
"She'd be perfect for you. She know everything about you-"
"Don't you dare talk about Satsuki like that," Aomine hissed.
Kise turned to the door, coldly studying the grain there as if he could peel off the glaze with his eyes alone. His heart thudded in his ears. On the other side of this door, they could either be like Kagami and Kuroko, who'd come out as soon as they realized they were perfect for each other, or they could hide their relationship until a later date. In the end he wasn't really so worried about them knowing - after all, if his old teammates were still who he thought they were and hadn't drastically changed in the last month, they would take the announcement with good grace.
If Kuroko had told them. If not...then Kuroko would still let them keep it a secret. If he wasn't in one of his righteous moods, he'd take a leaf out of Kise's book and wouldn't act like anything was wrong.
"I didn't choose to fall in love with you," Kise shot back. Every muscle in him was rigid. He probably couldn't copy his way out of a cardboard box right now, all he could see was red.
"Yeah, I can see -"
"But I did nonetheless," Kise pressed. "Goddammit Aominecchi, I fell for your stupid attitude and your tan skin and your foul mouth. I don't want a wife or kids or whatever because I like what we have. I'll follow you the whole goddamn way even if you get some sort of terminal disease and I have to spoonfeed you every day at the hospital."
Aomine opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. Whatever cutting remark he was thinking of, he only swallowed and nodded as if Kise could understand what his agreement meant. As it was...he could. Because they'd been together for far too long.
"Hey guys," a voice said from behind them. Both jumped and whirled simultaneously. "The door's open, you know. You can continue your conversation inside." Kuroko blinked at them both as if he couldn't understand why they would want to have a hissy fight in the corridor. "By the way, my neighbors probably heard the whole thing too. This building's got pretty thin walls." He knocked and pushed the apartment door open before them.
Right inside the entranceway, their old teammates were lurking around looking suspiciously innocent. Murasakibara had one hand shoved in a snack bag as usual; Midorima was once again cleaning his glasses millimeter by millimeter. Even Akashi had his legs up on the sofa, and was flipping through a basketball magazine with one ear cocked towards the door.
"Tadaima," Kuroko called out towards the kitchen.
"You mean - you mean you all heard?" Kise stammered.
"Oh, okaeri." Kagami walked out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. His regular If You Kiss The Cook, I'll Kill You! apron still hung off of his neck, though the back had been untied.
"Kind of difficult not to hear," Murasakibara said between chomps. "You were yelling all the way down the hall."
"We recognized your voices," Midorima added.
Akashi said nothing, only waved a hand vaguely to show he wasn't listening anymore. Something in the magazine had caught his interest.
"Dinner's ready," Kagami announced, turning back towards the kitchen. He didn't give Kise or Aomine any special kind of look. Then again, Kise thought if Kuroko told him, he probably just grunted and moved on. That couple seemed quite immune to surprise, or at least to showing it.
"Wait," and everyone turned back where they'd started filing into the kitchen for food. "Wait, I just think - I think we should say it properly. That me and Aomine have been going out for -" He tried to count the years, wondering if he should include the time when they were still experimenting.
"For a long freaking time." Aomine grabbed his arm and made for the kitchen. "Now, can we eat already?"
Murmurs of assent were uttered through the seven people present. People continued to shuffle into the kitchen. Nobody paid any more undue attention towards what he'd said. Mouth gaping a little, Kise let himself be dragged away. "That's all?" he whispered to nobody in particular. "Did - did you all already know or something?"
"Well yeah," Akashi said, putting his magazine down at last. He brushed past Kise, saying, "S'not really like you guys were quiet about it."
Kise had to blush at that, whereas Aomine had already moved on and was peering with great interest at the spread of food across the counter.
"Oh good, you got it," Kagami said as he saw the white confection sitting on the counter.
"Ooh, what's the cake for?" Murasakibara noted as they all sat down at the bar or at the small dining table.
"Celebration," Kuroko said cryptically, smiling a little. As Midorima passed out the beers, he added, "We should toast to all of us. To twenty years down the road."
"Can't think that far," Aomine grunted. Kise smacked him lightly on the arm.
"To our future, I guess," Kagami raised his bottle. His arm was tight around Kuroko's shoulders, and as Kise watched, Kuroko leaned into the touch ever so slightly as his blue eyes caught the golden color of the beer in his boyfriend's hand.
Suddenly he wanted to try it too. He leaned against Aomine, and in a moment their hands were twined. Then their eyes locked and suddenly Kise couldn't look away, because Aomine was looking at him as if he was on the court, watching the ball with a fierce, blistering intent. His game face.
This isn't a match, Aominecchi, he wanted to say, but the way he clutched his hands made it clear that Aomine understood.
"To our future," everyone echoed, but Aomine and Kise only clinked their bottles together silently and looked into each other's eyes as if they could read their own futures in each other's faces.
Twenty years down the road...would they still be holding hands? Drinking beer like buddies? Having sex on their dinner table?
This has to work, Kise thought desperately. We've come too far to turn back now.
Evidently Aomine thought the same. "Let's do this," he murmured under the background noise of the others clattering bowls and chopsticks around. In tandem they looped their elbows around each others, searched each other's faces one last time, and drank. [2]
[1] 3Ms: a little outdated, but it's supposed to be what every Japanese salaryman works towards: a house, a car, and an AC or refrigerator (or rather in this day and age, a computer)
[2] Though it would probably never work in modern times (save weddings), I meant for it to mirror sakazuki, though it's mainly used in feudal times to pledge loyalty to one's ruling lord or sworn brother
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairings: Kise/Aomine, Kagami/Kuroko
Rating: G?
Notes: lol my second try at Kise? Somehow it still didn't come out like I wanted it to...
Title:
14. the shadowed land
"Renji," someone said above him, and Renji opened his eyes when he thought he'd never do so again.
It was Kuchiki-taichou, of course. There was no one else who could trace his reiatsu so quickly. After years of practice together, pinpointing the fading ribbon of Renji's life energy was probably a piece of cake. Briefly he thought of the time Kuchiki-taichou had told a joke, the one about Renji looking more like a rooster than a red pineapple, and how Renji had ranted about his futile efforts to shake the stupid nickname.
"Taichou," he murmured. His breath rasped wetly when he inhaled. There was streak of red blood against one of the white trees; his own, no doubt. Calmly he regarded it, and along with it the end of his life.
"Renji," Byakuya repeated. "Don't move. I've already called Unohana-taichou."
"You shouldn't've bother, taichou," Renji replied. "It's alright to just leave it."
Byakuya wasn't leaving it. He'd already pressed his hands together over his chest, and Renji could feel that white energy shoring up the last dribbles of his own reiatsu. He stayed still and let his taichou work, mind flitting from subject to subject, remembering people and places, errands he still had to run, knots that he'd left yet untied.
"Taichou," he said suddenly. Here in Hueco Mundo the sky was always mute and dark, the landscape broken up by blindingly pale trees and rocks. "Taichou, I remembered something. I remembered something that I want."
The light didn't fade, but Byakuya did look up sharply at his face. That conversation they'd had at the office, when Byakuya had hinted so cautiously, so timidly what Renji might want as a sort of thank-you present, surfaced with a vengeance between them. The taste of awkward failure as he wracked his brains still suffused him with a sort of shame for disappointing his captain. He knew Byakuya too, had bit back a sigh of frustration for not being able to express his generosity in a rare, magnanimous fashion.
"I wanted to...keep your faith. Rukia's too. And to Soul Society. I wanted to...be of use. To be your fukutaichou forever." Byakuya's eyes were intent on his, searching his face, searching his words, but Renji knew he wouldn't find a lie because these were his last words, and they were true. "A long time ago I would've never said this but it's been my honor - my pleasure - to serve you, Kuchiki-taichou.
"Don't you see," his voice trailed off into a whisper. "You've already given me what I want." Well, what part Byakuya could give, that is...
"I cannot accept that for an answer," Byakuya uttered back harshly. The sound echoed in the shadowed, empty land. "I will save you, Renji, I demand you to live and --" His voice buzzed as if muffled by some giant hand. Renji blinked, lungs clouding with liquid, Zabimaru missing from his hand, a hot tear rolling down his cheek. He could feel his body shuddering to live as Byakuya held it together, mouth moving still but his words, his actions so far away.
Renji felt himself push away from the banks of consciousness, and his eyes drifted shut.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Bya + Ren
Rating: G
Notes: directly followed by the one below.
Title:
15. the stars are in blossom
"Renji," Byakuya said in the last moment. Hand on the door, the redhead turned back, expression alert. "Stay," Byakuya commanded, and Renji turned back, waiting in the corner of the room as Byakuya finished his signature on the last form and placed it in the pile to go to the Eleventh Division.
"Hai, taichou." Ever restless, Renji's eyes roved around the familiar sights of his taichou's room: the large writing desk, the closet that held zabuton, the alcove that held his beloved deceased wife's shrine. The far window would lead out to the balcony, looking over the Kuchiki mansion's extensive gardens, where the late Hisana had loved to walk.
Byakuya, well aware of his fukutaichou's impatience, folded up his writing supplies in record time and clapped once for a servant. Instantly from the side door one appeared, bowing. "Bring sake and cups," he commanded, and the servant bowed low, and disappeared again.
The sun was setting into his final rays of the day when the tray arrived, one large white bottle and two cups accompanying it. "Will Miss Rukia be joining you, master?" the servant asked.
"No. Only Abarai and I."
"Understood."
For Hisana he had built a set of stairs that led directly from their balcony down to the garden. He had even covered the path, so that she could stroll amongst her blooms in the rain as she often liked to do. Now, captain and vice captain sat side-to-side with the tray between them. Renji poured for his captain, and remembered the first time he'd done so, he'd shaken the bottle so it clattered against the cup. His new taichou had scowled at him them, straightfaced yet with his eyes so witheringly displeased that Renji had felt like burying himself right then and there.
He poured for himself too, and they lifted their cups together. "Are we toasting anything?"
Byakuya's eyes slid over to him. "I drink to your recovery, and may you live a long life that does not end with a mortal injury."
Obviously his taichou's mind had turned back to more morbid topics, like the last time he'd gone to Hueco Mundo and bled most of his life out into the white sands. "Then I'll drink to your happiness, taichou." And he lifted the cup towards his mouth.
Byakuya didn't do the same. "Why do you say that, Renji?"
Renji huffed, and pressed one finger right between his captain's eyebrows. "If ya don't lighten up, taichou, that valley is gonna become permanent, ya know." He'd never touched his captain so frivolously before; the newness of it sent an electric thrill through him.
Byakuya wordlessly turned back to the sunset, paused to watch the sun dissolve in his cup, before downing it in one go. Renji had been expecting an answer, but after Byakuya set his cup down in the tray, it became apparent that Byakuya wasn't in the mood to give a response, though at the very least he didn't seem much angry for being teased.
Soon the first stars began to bloom in the sky, winking far above them. Renji must've made a noise, because Byakuya turned to him and asked, "Is something wrong?"
"Huh? Oh no, just thinking."
"A dangerous and possibly traumatizing experience for you," Byakuya delivered back swiftly.
So there was the cutting response. "Ha, taichou, just watch. I'll out-think you one of these days, just watch." His brazen grin was met with just the slightest upturn of what was usually a stoic facade. They were both remembering that time when Byakuya had been commanded to give up his fukutaichou to fill a recently opened captain position. The both of them had gone to Yamamoto-soutaichou to politely decline the offer together.
"I look forward to it, Renji." Renji filled their cups and they drank again.
"You believe I can do so?" Byakuya's answering look could only be described as After all, I trained you. "I don't even believe I can do that." Not that his taichou never fell for a trap - just that he was far smarter and far more familiar in all kinds of political tricks that Renji couldn't hope to learn.
"Have faith, Renji." He held out his cup, and when it was filled he held out his hand for the bottle too. Confusedly, Renji handed it over. "Pick up your cup." Again, the befuddled fukutaichou did so.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed when Byakuya moved to fill his cup. "Err, taichou? I can fill the cup myself, ya know?"
"Allow me," Byakuya pressed, and steadied Renji's hand with his own. He poured until only the slightest lip around the cup remained. "Now, drink."
Renji stared at the cup, then back of him. Unlike years before, when the polished noble had first met the redheaded Rukongai rat, Renji was now highly aware of the honor that Byakuya had so casually bestowed upon him with such a simple action. His hand shook a little and sake spilled, just a little onto his fingers, sliding around the edge of the porcelain dish.
Quick as an eagle, Byakuya lifted the hand and ran his tongue against the knuckles. He licked and sucked until the spilled sake was gone.
By now Renji's mouth was halfway open, and his face had a decent blush on it, even in the fading light. It darkened with Byakuya's next words: "Shame on you, for spilling. Since you seem so reluctant, I will drink." And he lifted Renji's hand (which might have been made of stone at this point, he felt positively calcified with bewilderment), and tilting it a little, gulped the sake down so Renji could see his white throat bob.
When he was finished, he calmly plucked the dish from Renji's nerveless hands, and placed it into the tray. Frozen, Renji realized with no little fear that Byakuya was looking towards his next move, and if it wasn't satisfactory there'd be hell to pay, just like all the training Byakuya provided him.
"Taichou," he barely breathed, "you've got a little here." His other hand cradled Byakuya's head forward, as if to look closer.
Just before they kissed, Byakuya's eyes shone with approval.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: ByaRen
Rating: G...? PG for a kiss...?
Notes: lol it ended up being Bleach after all...direct sequel to the one above.
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LOL post too big! So I'll make another post for 06.16 - 06.30.