Fic: Validation [Rikkai D1]
Originally started in Economics class, when I really should be copying down the answers. May sound strange and slightly detached in areas since I stopped and continued a few times within this piece of work.
Again, if there is any OOCness, please do tell me, since both Yagyuu and Niou's characters still seem to elude my ficcing abilities. Also, my fic titles seem to be getting lamer and lamer and I can't tell why. >>;;
Completely random: Somehow, I feel my fics look better in small font. XDDD
Niou, Yagyuu, gen friendship(or slightly take it any way you want it).
Validation
Sometimes they whispered behind his back. Sometimes they don’t, because they knew he wouldn’t give a damn about it anyway.
And really, they were right. But he punched them sometimes, so that they wouldn’t be right all the time. Besides, their smug looks annoyed him and he wondered how their mothers could bear to look at them every day.
Those wimps always tattle though, and he’s seen the discipline teacher too many times to be afraid of the bespectacled little man. He always contemplated the idea of sucker-punching him too but then they’d make a fuss and suspend him off the tennis team and Sanada would be hellfire and fury all in one. Not that that would bother him either, since Sanada always acted as if he had a stick up the ass, but no tennis for a week forced him to reign in his temper and nod stiffly, smiling a plastic smile all the while.
Screw them all anyway; he didn’t care.
But then Yagyuu said it, casually when he was helping him clean the toilets (one of those abysmal tasks they always assigned him after a boring lecture).
‘I heard some of our classmates call you a freak.”
The hand holding the mop stilled. “So?”
Yagyuu didn’t stop sopping his stall. “I take it that that’s the reason why we’re here then?”
“No one said you had to do this.”
“But I do.” Yagyuu’s face was impassive. “It would be pointless to go for tennis practice; I am a double’s player. Also, I find that I do not play half as well when paired up with the others.”
“Give singles a go then.” Niou wasn’t in the mood to feel gratified.
Yagyuu’s voice was low, and would be bordering on dangerous if it were anyone but Yagyuu. “I’m a double’s player.”
Niou dunked his mop back into the bucket vindictively. “Maybe it’s time for a change. Try new things.”
Yagyuu lifted his own mop to the pail. “I don’t suppose you’re rattled by what they call you then?”
Trust Yagyuu to be able to pull the topic back around again. “Huh, can’t be bothered.”
He knew that eyes were watching him behind rimmed glasses, but he had been in this game longer. So he whistled on purpose, an irritatingly catchy tune that echoed throughout the empty stalls as he did a little number with his mop as it swished along the tiles.
Then Yagyuu said calmly, “I find myself rather disturbed by it though.”
Abruptly, the tune died into dismal silence as the mop paused its conquest of the floor. “Oh?”
Now it was Yagyuu’s turn to ignore Niou, meticulously cleaning in between the cracks of the stall. Well, cracks be damned.
“If you’d release my hand, Niou, I’d like to get on-”
“Why?”
Yagyuu raised an eyebrow. “For one, it’s cutting off my blood circulation. Also, your grip is rather painful and I would very much like to get this task over with.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Yagyuu turned and met Niou’s eyes with his implacable look. “Because I don’t play with ‘freaks’.”
A sudden chill shuddered through him and he dropped his partner’s arm before the cold rushed through his fingers and betrayed him. “Oh really.”
“Naturally.” Yagyuu massaged his wrist lightly, fingers ghosting tentatively across angry red marks as he talked. “I intend to play respectable tennis, and playing with a freak would most certainly be a determent to that.”
He was shivering a little now as the cold hardened into ice, his mop supporting him from falling against the wall. “I see.”
“However, it’s rather strange.” Yagyuu hadn’t ceased his talking as he pulled his mop out, still dripping water and continued cleaning, “I don’t’ recall ever playing with anyone by that title. Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me then about these rumors?”
He snapped his eyes back to his dirty mop floating around in the equally filthy pail before Yagyuu caught him staring. “Sorry, no can do.”
Then Yagyuu was in his face and the mop clattered to the floor, knocking into the bucket and oh great, now they would have to redo the entire corridor again. But Yagyuu seemed particularly articulate today and there would probably be no stopping him or there’d be hell to pay on court.
“My double’s partner is an excellent tennis player, a strategist and a trickster. Do correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that to date, none of them have yet to be related in anyway to the word ‘freak’.”
The silence was inevitable, hanging from the cobwebs on the ceiling down unto the empty stalls and them. Then Niou closed his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh.
“We have never lost yet, have we?”
“Of course not.” Yagyuu’s voice was amused now.
“Good. Don’t intend to anyway. Always good to ‘freak’ the opponents out, eh?”
“So long as we win, I have no objections whatsoever.”
They were both leaning against the wall now, just breathing in the scent of detergent and floor cleaner, fingers grazing each other as they swung loosely by their sides. Niou chuckled then.
“You missed a spot.”
“That’s absurd. That stall is completely clean; I made sure of it.”
“Right…there.” Niou lifted a finger to point at a random place on the floor.
“I think someone’s in need of glasses, and it isn’t me.”
“Then, I hope you won’t mind me borrowing yours for a while.”
Yagyuu sighed in resigned exasperation as his world became a blur of blue and white tiles, with a slash of whiteness marring the edge of his vision. “Niou, give me back my glasses.”
“Oh, you’re right. It is clean. Sorry, my bad.”
The door to the toilets opened then and a fuzzy black-and-yellow blur with Kirihara’s impatient voice grew larger. “Oi Niou-sempai, fukubuchou’s been demanding how long it takes for two people to clean a toilet…Oh.” His voice took on an eager edge. “Are you two pulling the switch today?”
Yagyuu straightened up and brushed down the front of his shirt. “No. We won’t need to. We’ll be fine just as ourselves.”
A hand on his shoulder and more whiteness as Niou stepped up beside him, smirking. “Feel like playing us today, Kirihara?”
Kirihara scowled petulantly. “You’re supposed to play Marui-sempai and Jackal-sempai, or I’d beat you both at one go.”
“I think we’re just about finished here,” Yagyuu said before Niou could reply. “Tell Sanada we’ll be on the court in five minutes time.”
“A’right!” Kirihara grinned and made for the door. Yagyuu pulled his glasses off Niou’s face and pushed them back up the bridge of his nose as the toilets swung back into sharp focus. He glanced at Niou, eyes still fastened upon the plastic door creaking to a close.
“We’d better hurry; you know Sanada doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Huh.” Niou didn’t budge.
Yagyuu began picking up the mops, not watching as Niou began to follow suit. When the last bucket had been cleaned off and stacked into position, he glanced at his partner.
“Ready to go?”
Niou looked into the mirror above the sink, at himself looking at himself. Freak.
Then he looked at Yagyuu, standing there waiting, calm as ever and smirked.
“Let’s.”
owari
Again, if there is any OOCness, please do tell me, since both Yagyuu and Niou's characters still seem to elude my ficcing abilities. Also, my fic titles seem to be getting lamer and lamer and I can't tell why. >>;;
Completely random: Somehow, I feel my fics look better in small font. XDDD
Niou, Yagyuu, gen friendship(or slightly take it any way you want it).
Validation
Sometimes they whispered behind his back. Sometimes they don’t, because they knew he wouldn’t give a damn about it anyway.
And really, they were right. But he punched them sometimes, so that they wouldn’t be right all the time. Besides, their smug looks annoyed him and he wondered how their mothers could bear to look at them every day.
Those wimps always tattle though, and he’s seen the discipline teacher too many times to be afraid of the bespectacled little man. He always contemplated the idea of sucker-punching him too but then they’d make a fuss and suspend him off the tennis team and Sanada would be hellfire and fury all in one. Not that that would bother him either, since Sanada always acted as if he had a stick up the ass, but no tennis for a week forced him to reign in his temper and nod stiffly, smiling a plastic smile all the while.
Screw them all anyway; he didn’t care.
But then Yagyuu said it, casually when he was helping him clean the toilets (one of those abysmal tasks they always assigned him after a boring lecture).
‘I heard some of our classmates call you a freak.”
The hand holding the mop stilled. “So?”
Yagyuu didn’t stop sopping his stall. “I take it that that’s the reason why we’re here then?”
“No one said you had to do this.”
“But I do.” Yagyuu’s face was impassive. “It would be pointless to go for tennis practice; I am a double’s player. Also, I find that I do not play half as well when paired up with the others.”
“Give singles a go then.” Niou wasn’t in the mood to feel gratified.
Yagyuu’s voice was low, and would be bordering on dangerous if it were anyone but Yagyuu. “I’m a double’s player.”
Niou dunked his mop back into the bucket vindictively. “Maybe it’s time for a change. Try new things.”
Yagyuu lifted his own mop to the pail. “I don’t suppose you’re rattled by what they call you then?”
Trust Yagyuu to be able to pull the topic back around again. “Huh, can’t be bothered.”
He knew that eyes were watching him behind rimmed glasses, but he had been in this game longer. So he whistled on purpose, an irritatingly catchy tune that echoed throughout the empty stalls as he did a little number with his mop as it swished along the tiles.
Then Yagyuu said calmly, “I find myself rather disturbed by it though.”
Abruptly, the tune died into dismal silence as the mop paused its conquest of the floor. “Oh?”
Now it was Yagyuu’s turn to ignore Niou, meticulously cleaning in between the cracks of the stall. Well, cracks be damned.
“If you’d release my hand, Niou, I’d like to get on-”
“Why?”
Yagyuu raised an eyebrow. “For one, it’s cutting off my blood circulation. Also, your grip is rather painful and I would very much like to get this task over with.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Yagyuu turned and met Niou’s eyes with his implacable look. “Because I don’t play with ‘freaks’.”
A sudden chill shuddered through him and he dropped his partner’s arm before the cold rushed through his fingers and betrayed him. “Oh really.”
“Naturally.” Yagyuu massaged his wrist lightly, fingers ghosting tentatively across angry red marks as he talked. “I intend to play respectable tennis, and playing with a freak would most certainly be a determent to that.”
He was shivering a little now as the cold hardened into ice, his mop supporting him from falling against the wall. “I see.”
“However, it’s rather strange.” Yagyuu hadn’t ceased his talking as he pulled his mop out, still dripping water and continued cleaning, “I don’t’ recall ever playing with anyone by that title. Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me then about these rumors?”
He snapped his eyes back to his dirty mop floating around in the equally filthy pail before Yagyuu caught him staring. “Sorry, no can do.”
Then Yagyuu was in his face and the mop clattered to the floor, knocking into the bucket and oh great, now they would have to redo the entire corridor again. But Yagyuu seemed particularly articulate today and there would probably be no stopping him or there’d be hell to pay on court.
“My double’s partner is an excellent tennis player, a strategist and a trickster. Do correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that to date, none of them have yet to be related in anyway to the word ‘freak’.”
The silence was inevitable, hanging from the cobwebs on the ceiling down unto the empty stalls and them. Then Niou closed his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh.
“We have never lost yet, have we?”
“Of course not.” Yagyuu’s voice was amused now.
“Good. Don’t intend to anyway. Always good to ‘freak’ the opponents out, eh?”
“So long as we win, I have no objections whatsoever.”
They were both leaning against the wall now, just breathing in the scent of detergent and floor cleaner, fingers grazing each other as they swung loosely by their sides. Niou chuckled then.
“You missed a spot.”
“That’s absurd. That stall is completely clean; I made sure of it.”
“Right…there.” Niou lifted a finger to point at a random place on the floor.
“I think someone’s in need of glasses, and it isn’t me.”
“Then, I hope you won’t mind me borrowing yours for a while.”
Yagyuu sighed in resigned exasperation as his world became a blur of blue and white tiles, with a slash of whiteness marring the edge of his vision. “Niou, give me back my glasses.”
“Oh, you’re right. It is clean. Sorry, my bad.”
The door to the toilets opened then and a fuzzy black-and-yellow blur with Kirihara’s impatient voice grew larger. “Oi Niou-sempai, fukubuchou’s been demanding how long it takes for two people to clean a toilet…Oh.” His voice took on an eager edge. “Are you two pulling the switch today?”
Yagyuu straightened up and brushed down the front of his shirt. “No. We won’t need to. We’ll be fine just as ourselves.”
A hand on his shoulder and more whiteness as Niou stepped up beside him, smirking. “Feel like playing us today, Kirihara?”
Kirihara scowled petulantly. “You’re supposed to play Marui-sempai and Jackal-sempai, or I’d beat you both at one go.”
“I think we’re just about finished here,” Yagyuu said before Niou could reply. “Tell Sanada we’ll be on the court in five minutes time.”
“A’right!” Kirihara grinned and made for the door. Yagyuu pulled his glasses off Niou’s face and pushed them back up the bridge of his nose as the toilets swung back into sharp focus. He glanced at Niou, eyes still fastened upon the plastic door creaking to a close.
“We’d better hurry; you know Sanada doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Huh.” Niou didn’t budge.
Yagyuu began picking up the mops, not watching as Niou began to follow suit. When the last bucket had been cleaned off and stacked into position, he glanced at his partner.
“Ready to go?”
Niou looked into the mirror above the sink, at himself looking at himself. Freak.
Then he looked at Yagyuu, standing there waiting, calm as ever and smirked.
“Let’s.”
owari