Drabble; Abandoned WIP
*
Hiiragi always thinks her master as a cool and collected person. She just never thought that he can be so stupid too.
“It’s one of human traits, you see.” Madara-sama tells her in between his laughter fits. “Even the smartest ones can be so stupid when it comes to that thing.”
She stares at the fat fortune-cat form Madara-sama can always be seen in, and even now, she still couldn’t stop thinking that that form is utterly and completely ridiculous. But of course, because she knows better than to challenge those who are clearly more powerful than her, she refrains herself from mentioning it to him.
“…looks like a shady guy like him is especially hopeless in this kind of situation, eh?” Madara-sama adds, before falling laughing again, like it’s actually the funniest thing ever.
She accidentally kicks him to the pond.
When he surfaces again, spluttering and indignant, he’s obviously angry; but in his current cat form, instead of looking murderous and frightening, he only looks cute. “You - you -“
“Oh my… Madara-sama, you should really be more careful. The street can be slippery for a fat cat, you know.” And off she goes, leaving a wet, spluttering cat behind, muttering what sounds like ‘I’m so going to eat you next time!’
No one insults her Natori-sama in her presence.
*
“Maybe, you... are the one who has been born to become a beautiful queen. If so, could you make a beautiful world that I can honestly say it's beautiful?”
She doesn't (couldn't) answer.
Really, what could she say to such a statement? The first time she sees him, and already he asks for something that she doesn't know how to give (impossible).
Who are you? She wants to ask. Who are you to be so boldly asking that of me, when you barely even knew me?
“He's the queen-candidate judge,” June tells her, a mischievous little smile on her lips. “You might want to make nice with him, since he's the one who would decide who the next Queen of Light will be.”
But he is too young to be in charge of such an important task, she wants to argue. You're just pulling my leg, aren't you?
June laughs then, as if she knew what was exactly going on inside Lucia’s head, before sauntering away in another direction, a knowing look in her eyes.
*
“Kazuya nii-chan, can you help me make origamis?” the little kid asked shyly, his big eyes looking at Kazuya in expectation.
“Hey hey, Taro, stop bothering Kazuya nii-chan. You’re big enough to make them yourself, aren’t you?” Takeda said in reprimand manner, looking at the child disapprovingly.
“But…” Taro frowned, fixing his eyes at the ground.
“Ah, it’s okay, Takeda-san. It won’t be a bother at all.” Kazuya smiled, extending a hand to the child, which he immediately took and led him out of the living room, leaving him alone in the room. “Please excuse us.”
Slowly, he took a drag out of his pipe, exhaling the smoke just as slowly, appearing like he truly enjoyed it.
“He’s quite good with kids, you know.” Takeda suddenly said, his eyes fixated on the side door.
“Your point?” Kyoko asked, knowing that the older man knew she had been there all along and heard everything.
Kamakura only let out a little smile, his eyes twinkling. “Nothing. Just saying is all.”
“Right.” She looked at him skeptically.
For a while, none of them spoke, letting the silence reign over them.
Then, “Seriously though, what are you going to do now, Kyoko?” he asked, taking a long drag from his pipe.
“I don’t know,” she replied, then a second later realized it was the truth: she really didn’t know what to do. “I don’t know.”
Takeda hummed to himself, low and wistful, knowing
Kyoko thought it was worse than if he had said anything at all.
*
The door to NEWS’ practice room threw open with a loud BANG, and a murderous looking Ryo stormed in.
Everyone present instinctively backed away from the newcomer, more so when they noticed his bloodied nose and slightly bruised forehead.
Ryo’s eyes swept over them in haste before finally focused on Yamapi, not sparing anyone else a glance-to the relief of the other occupants of the room. He strode over to the corner where a seemingly lifeless Yamapi was currently spacing out facing the wall, unaware of the danger that would soon befall upon him.
Grabbing his collar roughly, he hauled the other boy to his feet and shook him by his collar none-too-gently, making Yamapi’s head rolled from side to side, though he looked like barely felt it for he didn’t seem to acknowledge Ryo’s presence.
“YAMAPI YOU BASTARD!” Ryo growled low in his throat, narrowing his eyes at his prey. ”FIX IT! WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU DUMBHEAD?!”
Tegoshi, the soft hearted pacifist, hurried to Ryo’s side and tried to pry his hands off of Yamapi-to no avail. “Ryo-chan! Stop it! You might give him a concussion!” He whined with his best puppy dog look that always managed to get him what he wanted even from someone like Nishikido Ryo. Then Ryo turned to look at him, and Tegoshi yelped and backed away in record time.
“Ry- Ryo-chan…” now he was clearly scared and his eyes had started to water. Seeing this, Massu rushed to his friend side and took the slightly quivering Tegoshi in his arms.
“Ryo-chan! What had gotten into you?” He demanded disappovingly.
*
Yamapi halted on his track.
The sound was unmistakably real, and it seemed like it came from the direction of the old, unused music room. Yes, that music room. But that was impossible right? Were his ears deceiving him?
He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the soft melody that flowing smoothly in the air.
Someone poked his shoulder. “Oi, Yamapi? Why did you suddenly stop?” he heard Ryo ask annoyedly. “Come on, we’re late.” And he proceeded to pull his arm, but Yamapi barely felt it.
His eyes snapped open.
Rachmaninoff piano concerto no.2.
He stared up at the third floor, where he could see a window to the music room. No, it couldn’t be. It was just plain impossible. But the way it was being played… there was only one person that he knew who always played this piece that way, and he was sure said person was no longer in this world. Literally.
Only one way to find out.
He shrugged Ryo off and ran toward the building. “Ryo, you go ahead! I’ll catch up to you later!” he shouted over his shoulder, ignoring Ryo’s indignant protests.
Fortunately, there wasn’t any students on the corridor, for it was time for class, so whoever it was up there - if there was really someone up there and it wasn’t just his imagination - it was possibly wasn’t a student. Or perhaps it was a student who skipped class. Whatever.
Just when he was in front of the room, he stopped to catch his breath, panting heavily from the running he did. Then he straightened and gripped the handle of the door. He was just about to pull it when he suddenly hesitated and paused on his track.
It was probably nothing, it was probably no one that he knew of, that had accidentally found this room and took a liking to it just like he did. Hell, it was even probably just Ueda-sensei in one of his strange moods.
But the music was still playing in the same tone, in the same way he used to play it, and he never knew anyone else who could play it quite like that. And he also could still hear it, loud and clear, even though he wasn’t wearing Uncle Jin’s ring today. Which meant, it was real - the sound was real, and should he open the door, whoever it was that played it wouldn’t just disappear.
He closed his eyes and braced himself of what he might see, or worse yet, of what he might not see there.
He pulled the handle on the door.
The piano stopped playing abruptly.
When he finally dared to open his eyes again, there was a whisper of soft brown hair, and he found a pair of familiar clear brown eyes staring back at him.
There was a moment of silence, where all they did was look at each other - him in wonder and amazement, and the other in some sort of slight curiosity. Then the boy smiled, light and a little bit unsure, but it was all he needed - it was all that needed for his mind to be sure this wasn’t a dream, this was as real as he could ever hope it to be, and that miracles did happen after all.
He gave the boy a slow smile, trying to not let the dam loose and break into a silly grin for it had been a long time that he never felt that happy.
“Welcome back.”
He closed the door behind him.
*
The thing is, Laguna thinks, it’s not that he isn’t ready to be a father, because he is; all the time he spent around Ellone when the young woman was but a little girl should have counted for something. So no, it's not that he isn't ready to be a father - it's more because he isn't ready to suddenly father a grown seventeen-year-old teenager who is also The Commander of a Famous Mercenary School with an ice cube as a personality. So excuse him for being nervous and not a little intimidated.
It's also not helping that the kid - his name is Squall, he reminds himself, and he really needs to start using it instead of keep referring to him as the kid - has such an undeniable resemblance to Raine that all Laguna can think when he looks at him is how he had broken his promise - I'll always be by your side - how he had failed her, how he had let himself to fail her and didn't even do anything about it, how he had -
He stops.
Hiiragi always thinks her master as a cool and collected person. She just never thought that he can be so stupid too.
“It’s one of human traits, you see.” Madara-sama tells her in between his laughter fits. “Even the smartest ones can be so stupid when it comes to that thing.”
She stares at the fat fortune-cat form Madara-sama can always be seen in, and even now, she still couldn’t stop thinking that that form is utterly and completely ridiculous. But of course, because she knows better than to challenge those who are clearly more powerful than her, she refrains herself from mentioning it to him.
“…looks like a shady guy like him is especially hopeless in this kind of situation, eh?” Madara-sama adds, before falling laughing again, like it’s actually the funniest thing ever.
She accidentally kicks him to the pond.
When he surfaces again, spluttering and indignant, he’s obviously angry; but in his current cat form, instead of looking murderous and frightening, he only looks cute. “You - you -“
“Oh my… Madara-sama, you should really be more careful. The street can be slippery for a fat cat, you know.” And off she goes, leaving a wet, spluttering cat behind, muttering what sounds like ‘I’m so going to eat you next time!’
No one insults her Natori-sama in her presence.
*
“Maybe, you... are the one who has been born to become a beautiful queen. If so, could you make a beautiful world that I can honestly say it's beautiful?”
She doesn't (couldn't) answer.
Really, what could she say to such a statement? The first time she sees him, and already he asks for something that she doesn't know how to give (impossible).
Who are you? She wants to ask. Who are you to be so boldly asking that of me, when you barely even knew me?
“He's the queen-candidate judge,” June tells her, a mischievous little smile on her lips. “You might want to make nice with him, since he's the one who would decide who the next Queen of Light will be.”
But he is too young to be in charge of such an important task, she wants to argue. You're just pulling my leg, aren't you?
June laughs then, as if she knew what was exactly going on inside Lucia’s head, before sauntering away in another direction, a knowing look in her eyes.
*
“Kazuya nii-chan, can you help me make origamis?” the little kid asked shyly, his big eyes looking at Kazuya in expectation.
“Hey hey, Taro, stop bothering Kazuya nii-chan. You’re big enough to make them yourself, aren’t you?” Takeda said in reprimand manner, looking at the child disapprovingly.
“But…” Taro frowned, fixing his eyes at the ground.
“Ah, it’s okay, Takeda-san. It won’t be a bother at all.” Kazuya smiled, extending a hand to the child, which he immediately took and led him out of the living room, leaving him alone in the room. “Please excuse us.”
Slowly, he took a drag out of his pipe, exhaling the smoke just as slowly, appearing like he truly enjoyed it.
“He’s quite good with kids, you know.” Takeda suddenly said, his eyes fixated on the side door.
“Your point?” Kyoko asked, knowing that the older man knew she had been there all along and heard everything.
Kamakura only let out a little smile, his eyes twinkling. “Nothing. Just saying is all.”
“Right.” She looked at him skeptically.
For a while, none of them spoke, letting the silence reign over them.
Then, “Seriously though, what are you going to do now, Kyoko?” he asked, taking a long drag from his pipe.
“I don’t know,” she replied, then a second later realized it was the truth: she really didn’t know what to do. “I don’t know.”
Takeda hummed to himself, low and wistful, knowing
Kyoko thought it was worse than if he had said anything at all.
*
The door to NEWS’ practice room threw open with a loud BANG, and a murderous looking Ryo stormed in.
Everyone present instinctively backed away from the newcomer, more so when they noticed his bloodied nose and slightly bruised forehead.
Ryo’s eyes swept over them in haste before finally focused on Yamapi, not sparing anyone else a glance-to the relief of the other occupants of the room. He strode over to the corner where a seemingly lifeless Yamapi was currently spacing out facing the wall, unaware of the danger that would soon befall upon him.
Grabbing his collar roughly, he hauled the other boy to his feet and shook him by his collar none-too-gently, making Yamapi’s head rolled from side to side, though he looked like barely felt it for he didn’t seem to acknowledge Ryo’s presence.
“YAMAPI YOU BASTARD!” Ryo growled low in his throat, narrowing his eyes at his prey. ”FIX IT! WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU DUMBHEAD?!”
Tegoshi, the soft hearted pacifist, hurried to Ryo’s side and tried to pry his hands off of Yamapi-to no avail. “Ryo-chan! Stop it! You might give him a concussion!” He whined with his best puppy dog look that always managed to get him what he wanted even from someone like Nishikido Ryo. Then Ryo turned to look at him, and Tegoshi yelped and backed away in record time.
“Ry- Ryo-chan…” now he was clearly scared and his eyes had started to water. Seeing this, Massu rushed to his friend side and took the slightly quivering Tegoshi in his arms.
“Ryo-chan! What had gotten into you?” He demanded disappovingly.
*
Yamapi halted on his track.
The sound was unmistakably real, and it seemed like it came from the direction of the old, unused music room. Yes, that music room. But that was impossible right? Were his ears deceiving him?
He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the soft melody that flowing smoothly in the air.
Someone poked his shoulder. “Oi, Yamapi? Why did you suddenly stop?” he heard Ryo ask annoyedly. “Come on, we’re late.” And he proceeded to pull his arm, but Yamapi barely felt it.
His eyes snapped open.
Rachmaninoff piano concerto no.2.
He stared up at the third floor, where he could see a window to the music room. No, it couldn’t be. It was just plain impossible. But the way it was being played… there was only one person that he knew who always played this piece that way, and he was sure said person was no longer in this world. Literally.
Only one way to find out.
He shrugged Ryo off and ran toward the building. “Ryo, you go ahead! I’ll catch up to you later!” he shouted over his shoulder, ignoring Ryo’s indignant protests.
Fortunately, there wasn’t any students on the corridor, for it was time for class, so whoever it was up there - if there was really someone up there and it wasn’t just his imagination - it was possibly wasn’t a student. Or perhaps it was a student who skipped class. Whatever.
Just when he was in front of the room, he stopped to catch his breath, panting heavily from the running he did. Then he straightened and gripped the handle of the door. He was just about to pull it when he suddenly hesitated and paused on his track.
It was probably nothing, it was probably no one that he knew of, that had accidentally found this room and took a liking to it just like he did. Hell, it was even probably just Ueda-sensei in one of his strange moods.
But the music was still playing in the same tone, in the same way he used to play it, and he never knew anyone else who could play it quite like that. And he also could still hear it, loud and clear, even though he wasn’t wearing Uncle Jin’s ring today. Which meant, it was real - the sound was real, and should he open the door, whoever it was that played it wouldn’t just disappear.
He closed his eyes and braced himself of what he might see, or worse yet, of what he might not see there.
He pulled the handle on the door.
The piano stopped playing abruptly.
When he finally dared to open his eyes again, there was a whisper of soft brown hair, and he found a pair of familiar clear brown eyes staring back at him.
There was a moment of silence, where all they did was look at each other - him in wonder and amazement, and the other in some sort of slight curiosity. Then the boy smiled, light and a little bit unsure, but it was all he needed - it was all that needed for his mind to be sure this wasn’t a dream, this was as real as he could ever hope it to be, and that miracles did happen after all.
He gave the boy a slow smile, trying to not let the dam loose and break into a silly grin for it had been a long time that he never felt that happy.
“Welcome back.”
He closed the door behind him.
*
The thing is, Laguna thinks, it’s not that he isn’t ready to be a father, because he is; all the time he spent around Ellone when the young woman was but a little girl should have counted for something. So no, it's not that he isn't ready to be a father - it's more because he isn't ready to suddenly father a grown seventeen-year-old teenager who is also The Commander of a Famous Mercenary School with an ice cube as a personality. So excuse him for being nervous and not a little intimidated.
It's also not helping that the kid - his name is Squall, he reminds himself, and he really needs to start using it instead of keep referring to him as the kid - has such an undeniable resemblance to Raine that all Laguna can think when he looks at him is how he had broken his promise - I'll always be by your side - how he had failed her, how he had let himself to fail her and didn't even do anything about it, how he had -
He stops.