31_days Drabbles (October)

[ansibs]

Title:

Rain pattered down in the night and this was when he felt the weight pressing down on him again.

He knew if he opened the screens he would see droplets clinging to the leaves and spiderwebs like gossamer pearls. The irises would be wet and dewy, the ripples spreading on the little koi pond in the backyard. He could take an umbrella and walk the bridge he put over it, and stare out over the little kingdom he had carved for himself.

A kingdom...with no one to share rule with him.

There was always Tokio, of course. He knew if he told her, she would gladly fly over from her own, separate family house where she raised their sons to be goodly men. But from the start it had always been a marriage of convenience and while they were close enough that Saitou could count her as a dear, true friend, his interest had always lay elsewhere.

It seemed as he grew older, the people who quickened him had also grown fewer. When he was young he had always been attracted to strength - which was why he had been so obsessed with the Hitokiri Battousai - and truthfully, that had not changed. It was simply more than strength of a sword- or spear-arm, he had come to realize. Power could lie in soft things too that he would have shunned before, authority in more than just a name or skill. There were people in this world today that shone not by ability, but by heart...

He thought of one such boy. With his white jacket fluttering behind him, the word imprinted like a defiant flaunt of everything Saitou respected, he could not deny that heart had taken the boy farther than Saitou had ever imagined it would. His fist, however damaged, had reached his opponents and knocked them flat. He had managed to do what he wanted to do: to protect the people he loved and cared for. Saitou could tip his head to that determination.

He looked back to the empty bed and here, in the solitary confines of his own gilded cage, he allowed himself to think of the youngling spread out against the futon. If he had been here, Saitou wouldn't have allowed him a single moment of rest. He would have torn into that young flesh like a ravaging wolf, slaking his thirst, filling his stomach until his hunger was all gone. And in the midst of it he would have made Sanosuke beg and cry and plead for more.

Those scarred hands would scrape along his back, leaving red lines on his shoulders. His long, supple legs would lock around Saitou's waist as their bodies pulsed together. The youth's mouth would be fiercely warm as it was plundered again and again by an invading tongue.

But most of all...when they were finished Saitou could look over next to him while he was smoking a cigarette, and see those brown eyes flutter open exhaustedly. Nothing would be said; Sanosuke would only lay a hand on his thigh, and smile.

He reached out a hand and rain plinked down into it. The cold water sobered his thoughts.

He blew out the lantern and lay down in the cold bed. He closed his eyes and he could see the dancing figures of people he had bedded through the years flash behind his eyelids. None were so fiery as the boy with the red headband and a grin like rolling thunder.

No, as much as Saitou wanted it, he was alone tonight.

Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Pairing: SaiSa
Rating: PG for ghei images I guess
Notes: eh more SaiSa.

Title:

The temple near his house was the one that had the annual summer festival that all of his old junior high school basketball club members attended. In spring families gathered under the sakura trees in the back with their picnic baskets and beer; in winter only the groundsman and head monk remained, sweeping the dust or shoveling snow away.

Autumn was Kuroko's favorite time of the year. He had long made the acquaintance of the head monk - Fujiwara-san - and Fujiwara's young daughter, who was seven and still didn't understand what the point of school was. On the days when they had no practice, sometimes he came up with a couple of books and read them to her on the front porch of the honden, or silently to himself when she wasn't around.

It was one of these days where he was lipping the kanji quietly under his breath when he heard the shuffle of feet through the leaves. He didn't need to look up to see who it was, but he did anyway.

"Whatcha doing all the way up here?" Kagami grunted as he took a seat next to him. In the growing chill Kuroko clamped down on the urge to scoot a little closer to the warm bulk of Kagami's larger body.

"Reading."

"Yeah I can see that. You can also do that in your own room, instead of freezing your ass off here. Sun's setting, too."

They both looked out across the haze of red maple leaves that matched the shade of Kagami's hair, to where the sun was slowly dipping below the horizon beyond the silhouette of the trees. To be truthful, Kuroko liked peace and quiet too. Yes, he loved to watch people and grow to understand their feelings and motives...but there were times when he wanted to be alone too. To collect his thoughts. To center himself, and put up his walls again.

It seemed lately, though, that they were all being torn down one-by-one. The perpetrator was none other than the classmate sitting next to him.

All of his concerns flew out the window when Kagami shifted closer so their hips touched, and put his arm around Kuroko's shoulders. Kuroko froze; he had seen Kagami and Aomine being buddy-buddy with each other on the court, especially after they smashed another streetball opponent into the dust, but this kind of tangible attention had never been turned towards him before. He turned to look for some sort of sign, but the fading light made it hard to see - was Kagami blushing? Or was it from the cold? And oh, but his arm was so warm...

"Why you're out here when the temperature's dropping I'll never understand," Kuroko could feel Kagami's grumbling voice vibrating through his side.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Asked the shifty-eyed bastard."

Kuroko huffed a white breath of laughter at the unflattering nickname. "I suppose since he calls you 'the wimp kitty', it's all fair."

That hand tightened on his shoulder. "Is that right," Kagami growled.

"You're living up to your name, Kagami-kun." Instantly the growl became a mutter of 'Stop with the tiger jokes already', which made Kuroko smile.

Before he knew it, his head thudded against Kagami's shoulder. He could smell the scent of deodrant and something deeper and sharper that was Kagami himself. Traitorously seductive thoughts circled his head like vultures around a particularly sweet morsel: what would Kagami do if Kuroko leaned up to lick his neck? Or loop their fingers together? Or - did he dare - slide straight into Kagami's lap?

"Are you done yet?" was all Kagami said. He hadn't moved, except to breathe. Kuroko's whole left side was warmed by the lack of distance between them.

Would he ever be able to bridge that last few centimeters? Kagami was so, so terribly close - what if he lost control one day? What if he stepped on some landmine and sent Kagami running away from him forever?

He reined in the impulse just in time. Wondering if Kagami could feel the rapid beating of his heart, he forced his eyes back to the book. "Just a little longer," he said. "Aah," Kagami agreed amiably in return.

Years later after watching an NBA game Kuroko would make his way to the temple with a flashlight. Sometimes it was fall; sometimes it wasn't. The images of a redhead and a blue head would try desperately to stay positively afloat, but always drowned when he stayed home. So he would go out and wander their old haunts: the convenience store they used to go to, the road next to the river on their way home, even their old high school.

It was a night like this that he had come up to the temple though there was only the side light on and the main hall was completely dark. From overhead the bell at the end of the rope clanked mournfully as Kuroko struggled to remember promises and hope. Kagami had been gone so long in America, with his and Kuroko's other best friend. Something could have happened - he could have forgotten, he could have forgotten, his words faded into obscurity. He could be so drunk on limelight and champagne and women that all thoughts of Japan had disappeared from his mind.

Just as he was berating himself for a fool, shivering under the fleece blanket he brought with him, he heard a tread in the red leaves. Rain had made them soggy; still, he would recognize that step from everywhere.

Kagami stood tall and proud in the half-light, face shadowed though his hair was as bright as ever. They stared at each other across what seemed to be infinity before the redhead spoke: "Tadaima."

After all these years Kuroko could read that expression - Kagami wasn't expecting anything either. Maybe he was thinking about how Kuroko was strong enough to move on. Maybe he was thinking that Kuroko was handsome enough to have found a nice girl by now.

Did you forget I never break my promises, Kagami-kun? came the half-irritated thought. But hadn't Kuroko nursed the same insecurities just now?

He shut his book with a snap and stood. "Let's go home, Kagami-kun," he said, and again Kagami only replied agreeably with, "Aah." When he was close enough to touch, Kuroko took his hand.

"Okaerinasai," he whispered against Kagami's lips before they closed over his. His eyes slid shut and all he could feel was warmth there, among the sodden leaves. Tomorrow they might visit during the daytime, and Kuroko might make some crack about Kagami's hair matching the seasons. Kagami might say something about Kuroko being blind and abusive to nature, or else why else would he have clutched that red head so hard last night?

For now, all those thoughts faded, because Kuroko was finally home.

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairing: KagaKuro
Rating: G
Notes: uhhh yeah more fluff, hey look it's even perfect for this season >.>;;;

Title:

Once there was a man who didn't quite think his age. He was very conservative, and so many people laughed at him and said he was like an old man (though he didn't talk like one, so he didn't really understand what they were talking about). There were always a multitude of followers, hanger-ons, distant family members and semi-affiliated people who crept around him, hungry for his status or his favor or his gold, because he came from an old rich family.

One day this man got lost. He was swallowed by a demon and for many years, he went missing. He forgot all of himself, his name, his family, his lineage, everything, so when the demon was destroyed and spat him back out, he was blind as a bat and naked as a newborn. Without knowing why, he cried for his misfortune. It was terribly hard to be nameless.

He was passed hand to hand, fumbling in his world of eternal dark, until one day a servant of his family's spotted him in the rotting, filthy district of Rukongai. He had always spent time here, unaware of its connection to himself. Despite what they said, he had always felt it was a meaningful place to live, better than - wait, he couldn't remember. And when he cried, the bandages over his eyes became soaked.

The family servant went back home, alarmed, and told everyone. Soon the rest of the family descended on their young and thought-deceased head of the family, saying they would take him even nameless and without memory, but the man waved them away. He didn't know why, but he was happier where he was.

There was only one person that stayed. He didn't want the gold or the riches or the fame or the lineage that his husband, partner, and captain had always been bound to. He loved Kuchiki Byakuya for all that he was, for the warmth he kept so well-hidden under layers and layers of frosty aloofness, and he was willing to try to discover it again.

"Ignore the magpies," he said as the news traveled far and wide all over Seireitei. "I'm not one of them."

"I know you aren't...Renji." They both blinked.

"I didn't tell you my name," Renji stuttered, flabbergasted.

"And I shouldn't know you have long red hair either. Or tattoos, or that you were my vice-captain. Or that...we were very much in love."

"We are. At least on my part. I'll always be by your side, Taichou."

The bandages turned dark as they moistened with Byakuya's tears. "My memory's starting to come back," he patted his face as he undid the knot for the cloth over his eyes. Renji winced to see the scar tissue there, as wild and jagged as his lightning tattoos. "They're...all such happy memories, of us together."

"Taichou," Renji murmured like a prayer. He kissed both eyes and both cheeks. "Taichou..." his lips fell against Byakuya's and without speaking, they fell to the bed together.

"It doesn't matter if I never fully remember," Byakuya murmured. "We...we can always make new memories."

"Starting now," Renji added. His hands were so gentle as they wiped the tears away from Byakuya's face. The last few weeks had been tough, as the Kuchiki household had sought to persuade their crippled head into taking leadership again, all for naught. Now all that remained was him.

He smiled against the palm of Byakuya's hand, exploring his face. Mere magpies would never understand the full worth of the treasure they'd given up.

Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: ByaRen
Rating: PG...? For a kiss?
Notes: I think I made Byakuya too weepy. The amnesia made me do it; honestly I think a lot of things that happened in Byakuya's life would have made me burst into tears if it had happened to me.

Title:

I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
But you yourself are nothing so divine
Just next in line

--Chris Cornell, "You Know My Name"

The morning mist clung to the riverbank as Midorima Shintarou jogged past. When he looked at the rocks and grass lining it, he could see turtles nestling on the fallen logs and debris. His breath made white clouds in the air; classical music pounded in his ears at almost full volume. It was the only time that he allowed himself to be off-guard, since he always checked the surroundings first before he went out. And of course, he had his phone; he trusted Akashi too, to tell him if he had a tail.

So at first, seeing the black silhouettes of two figures standing at the end of the bridge, his heart leapt to his throat and he slowed to a walk. Then, not pretending at all, he checked his phone as he kept one eye on the two figures, who seemed to be talking. They didn't move, and neither did he as he double-checked the phone's display. No new messages.

He chose this route (and the rest of his courses) because there usually weren't any people on it. Well, there was nothing to it; if they wanted something, they probably wouldn't stop at stalking him on his jogging route, they probably had already staked out his house and his workplace too. His eyes narrowed into what all of his old opponents on the basketball court would call his game face; he wasn't about to run when he could at least meet the challenge head on and find out what they wanted.

But it was a completely unexpected pair waiting for him at the end of the bridge. At first when he saw the flash of pale skin and light blue hair, he almost misstepped in his surprise. But the hallucination didn't go away, especially when his eyes darted to the other figure and realized with astonishment that it was not one, but two ghosts that had reappeared in his life.

"Yo, Shin." "Midorima-kun, good morning." They were both leaning against the railing of the bridge, surveying him warmly yet warily as if he might bolt at any second.

He would do no such thing. Unbidden hope leapt rekindled in his chest as he regarded the two of them - the two Miracles that had by far flown the farthest and most true. It was the rest of them, Midorima thought with disgust, that had gotten dragged in the mud.

"How long have you been back? And how did you know I was here?"

"Since a week ago, and Kise, if you have to know." Kagami answered for the two of them. "He said best time to catch you was when you went running."

Midorima thought briefly of his old college roommate and cursed Kise for running his mouth off. "How is he?" he bit out. He hasn't actually caught some life-threatening STD, has he?

"He looked...tired, but doing well. I was surprised to see him where he is, though - I would have thought his agency..." Kuroko's voice trailed off into confusion.

"Kise's modeling agency is a front for scouting out hosts for the club that Kise now works for. Once they're of age they snap them up with a contract the boys can't get out of, and work them until they're too old to attract women. And then they're dumped on the street, if they haven't either gotten infected with something fatal or overdosed already," Midorima explained bluntly. "Kise's only as careful as Akashi and I made him to be - but even he has his lapses in hygiene, I know he does."

"What does that mean?" Kagami asked, puzzled.

"It means that no matter how many precautions you take in a business like that, you're still high at risk," Midorima snapped with growing ire. How dare the two of them - happy, in love, and so thankfully far away from the mess the rest of them had become that Midorima had sometimes blessed whoever was up there that two of them had gotten away - come roaring back into his life? He stalked past the two of them jerkily towards his apartment.

Of course the two of them had to follow. "What about everyone else? What about Aomine?" Kagami just had to ask.

"Aomine's probably passed out right now. After the fifteenth time I treated him for alcohol poisoning, I gave up on him. If he voluntarily wanted rehab, I would put him through it - but he doesn't, so I don't care any more."

They all didn't have to point out that was a lie. "Who's taking care of him now?"

"Momoi, who else?" His teeth gnashed together at the thought of her.

"Momoi-san," Kuroko said with sudden hope. Midorima didn't blame him; he was obviously remembering Teikou's old ace always listened to his childhood friend. Well, that had changed too. "How is she?"

He just had to ask. They just all had to be here, poking their noses into his business. Didn't they see all it would do was get them dirty? He flashed back to a month ago, when he'd opened the door to find her there on the operating chair with her face in her hands. He'd canceled the rest of his morning appointments just so he could hold her as she sobbed her heart out. I can't take this anymore, she said, and she didn't need to spell it out for him, not when he understood what she meant when she put that hand on her belly. It's not like he's not there, I know he is - I just don't know how he could do the things he does now. I just don't know how he can just use me like this.

Take it out of me, Midorin. I don't want anything to do with him anymore.

If his hands had shaken a little, if he was a little gentler with her as he did the operation, she didn't say anything about it. He was even with her when she woke up, smiling tiredly at him as he fussed with her hair and her hospital clothes, asking if she was comfortable. He could have fit whole boots into the bags under her eyes.

"She's alive," was all he said as he wrenched open the door.

There was a stunned silence as they took in the state the apartment was in. "This...this is your apartment?" Kagami said with disbelief.

Midorima shot him a glare. "No, it's not." He took of his shoes and toed around the puked messes on the floor, the dizzying array of takeout boxes, the dead cockroaches and the empty array of beer cans everywhere. "Takao!" he called, and there was an answering moan from the back room. "Takao, you've got guests."

"You mean 'we'," Takao murmured. He hadn't even gotten out of bed yet, and from what Midorima could smell, he hadn't done so in days. Still, Takao with the beginnings of stubble sprouting from his chin and his long, straight hair a total mess, still held a pang of affection inside of Midorima. He bent to peck him on the forehead and then threw back the blankets. Takao stretched, arching his back like a cat, before he shifted backwards into what might have been a 'come hither' pose, if he wasn't so out of it. "Hm-hmmm, Shin-chan - see something you like?"

"Maybe after your shower." He hauled his old lover out of the bed and into the bathroom.

There, as he scrubbed Takao down, he took note of the changes since last time. The bathroom, unlike the rest of the apartment, actually seemed semi-clean, since Takao never really used it for anything except for the toilet. Still, there were traces that even he was starting to get tired of the living room: there were now syringes here in the sink as well. As Takao scrubbed himself, singing one of his old rock band's singles, Midorima inspected one. It looked new, as did the others. The only thing wrong with it was what was packed inside.

After Takao was dressed and tottering against the wall, giggling madly, he stripped the blankets and the sheets and threw them in the laundry. The water hadn't been shut off - another thanks to whoever was above - and to even greater relief, he saw Kagami and Kuroko had numbly put themselves to work picking up the mess in the front room.

When he turned back, Takao was patting his arm for a vein. "Shin-chan," he laughed, "help me find one. Can't see so good these days."

That was troubling, as well as the multitude of holes that ran down the blue stripes of Takao's abused veins. Midorima took the syringe and set it aside. "You can hold out a little longer."

"But -"

"C'mon. I said you have guests."

They stumbled out into the now clean living room, where Kagami and Kuroko had pretty much scrubbed everything spotless. "Wow, it's the Seirin golden pair," Takao enthused, stumbling against the wall. "Haha, what's up? I'm a rock star, whoo!" He windmilled and alarm flashed across both Kagami and Kuroko's faces. Midorima caught his old friend with an exasperated sigh.

As Takao continued to chatter to himself, he explained. "He's an addict - his band made it big, so with all that money...they did what bands usually do. He started using a little more than a year ago, but it's only now starting to get pretty serious."

"What do you mean?"

"There's whole days where he blanks out and does nothing. I don't have time to clean up after him except for on half-days, and even then I'm often at the office. I want him to go to rehab, but..." They both turned to where Takao was propped against the couch, waving his arms as he explained some backstage story or another to empty air. "I would have to sell everything in this apartment, since I don't have the funds and his family has pretty much disowned him."

"But you just said it's getting bad."

"Yes."

"Then shouldn't you act now before it gets even worse?"

Kagami was right, Midorima knew that deep down. He even knew that he had fallen into the pit of what every user's lover or significant other fell into: they didn't want to see their partner in pain. Takao had once been a clever, saucy soul in Midorima's life, much like the 'light' to Kuroko's shadow. He had been someone Midorima trusted would always be there, supporting him. Now...how long would it take before Takao forgot everything? His parents, his lover, his own name - all of it might disappear.

"I know I should. I know people who can help him. I just..." He rubbed the line between his eyebrows that had only grown deeper as the problems of real life piled down on him. "I just don't want to shame him."

"It's not a matter of shame. He can be a rock star again, if he really wants. But he needs this first - he needs to come clean. Midorima-kun..." Kuroko looked deep into his eyes. "If there's anything I learned from growing up, it's that sometimes there are things more important than dreams."

The thought of taking Takao's free, unbridled laughter away from him grated against Midorima's soul. "Like what," he croaked harshly. His life felt like one big scab and these two were picking, picking, picking at it.

Kuroko only shook his head in answer, unable to put the feeling in words. "It's...like doing what's right. Except it's not that easy."

"No shit," Kagami grunted next to him, looking annoyed.

"If I do this...you'll have to do all of it. You two are the only two that got out, you know. The only ones who became...what we all thought we would be someday." Tall and proud. Successful. Happy. "If I take Takao to the clinic, you have to swear to me on your life, you'll save the rest of them too."

"Who?"

"The rest of them. Aomine, Akashi, Momoi, Kise. Take them into the sun far away from where they are now." And maybe I'll believe in miracles again.

Two faces looked at him as one, the certainty in their eyes so naive, so foolish. And yet - he remembered these two. The odds they overcame. Their own limits that they passed beyond. He remembered how they shone together, light and shadow, on the court, blowing past their opponents like they had been born to do so.

"That's what we came to do," Kagami stood and in the mid-morning sun he looked impossibly strong.

"We'll bring everyone back, Midorima-kun." Next to him, Kuroko looked no less determined, eyes quietly shining as he let his new mission sink in.

Somewhere deep inside of Midorima, hope began to beat again.

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Pairing: KagaKuro, MidoTaka, implied AoMomo
Rating: G
Notes: uhhhh YEAH a really really really dark look if everyone in the Generation of Miracles save Kagami/Kuroko had somehow ended up with some shady job or another. Really, I wrote it just because it lets me play in the Japanese underworld...