VF-Fic: Beginning
Title: Beginning (continuation of Ending)
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: pretty much G
Warnings: spoilers up to NT7
Summary: last chapter...
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Asami doesn't belong to me *hands him back to Takaba Yamane Ayano*
*
Since it seemed that every single criminal in this part of the world knew exactly where he lived, Takaba was utterly unwilling to return to his flat. So, after some quick phone calls, he quartered himself at Takato's who had a spare room and only one condition before he agreed to accomodate his friend: That Takaba finally told him the whole story of what had happened since the photographer had begun to vanish on a semi-regular basis.
And so Takaba did. After a huge dinner (and several glasses of cheap wine) he began to talk; slowly at first, because he wasn't used to having to find words for his situation, but once he'd stumbled through the beginning, the rest poured out of him like water breaking through ice. When he was finished, having bared his heart (and not a few of the sexual details), Takaba didn't dare to look up into his friend's face, afraid to find disapproval or even disgust there but still feeling somehow relieved that he'd finally had an opportunity to talk some things off his chest.
"So, uhm, is it over now? For good?" Takato asked after a long pause, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had crept between them.
"I hope so," Takaba replied tentatively. "I mean… I can't… I just hope so."
"Really? I mean, it's okay if you…"
"No. He doesn't… he's not good for me. Every time I meet him, he comes closer to breaking me apart. And I don't trust him to put me back together."
"Oh. Okay. But… you're still…?" Takato didn’t finish the question, opting instead for gesticulating wildly, while a flush spread all over his face.
"Yeah. I'm still gay."
"Okay. No problem. I mean, it takes a bit getting used to, but I guess I can see the advantages…"
"Advantages?"
"Well, all the more girls for me…"
*
It was nearly two weeks before Takaba found a new flat. Luckily he'd been able to secure himself some commissions in the meantime, so he hadn't to ask his parents to loan him money for the deposit. But still, the moving was very unhealthy for his finances and he was glad that Kou and Takato had offered to help him with the transport of his things.
After they were finished dragging everything from his old flat to the new one, the three of them were too tired to celebrate properly, so Takaba said goodbye to his friends and fell into the new bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.
*
The next day Takaba slept in. It was nearly noon when he finally got out of bed and fixed himself something to eat. Afterwards he unpacked his cameras and the rest of the equipment, but stopped when it came to the boxes with the clothing and his personal things. He just wasn't in the mood to be inside right now. Deciding to take a walk around his new neighbourhood, Takaba went out of the flat and, out of habit, looked into his mailbox, not really expecting anything to be there since he'd kept fairly quiet about his new whereabouts. The envelope he found was made of thick, heavy paper and had neither a stamp nor an adress on it. Wrestling down the rising feelings of dread, Takaba opened the letter gingerly, revealing a single sheet of paper with an adress, the date of the day after tomorrow and a time on it. The back side simply said: You can come by yourself or you can be brought by my men. Your choice. No signature.
Oh shit.
*
Two days later Takaba was on his way to the mentioned adress. Simply not going or even running away would have been futile; Asami had made it clear that he could find him anywhere. And while he'd have liked to avoid the Yakuza as long as possible, some small part of Takaba longed to see Asami again.
When he arrived, the other man was already there, leaning against his car and having a phone conversation which he abruptly stopped when he became aware of Takaba's presence.
"You're late." The carefully neutral tone of voice didn't give away anything. "I was just about to send someone for you."
"About five minutes! I didn't find this place immediately. And what am I doing here anyway?" Takaba demanded to know. He was unsure what to think; he'd been curious what Asami's reaction to his dramatical declaration from the last time they'd seen each other would be, but so far the other man didn't seem to have any.
"You'll see," Asami replied curtly. He cut off the conversation by simply turning around and vanishing into the house next to him.
Takaba snorted at that, but followed nonetheless.
The place turned out to be a tattoo studio and before the young photographer could voice his protests he was alone in a room with Asami's bespectacled bodyguard and a man who seemed to work here. After merely a glance the man reached for his equipment and Takaba's right hand simultaneously. Shocked, Takaba wanted to pull away, but a warning grip on his shoulder made him change his mind.
"It's no use," his keeper said quietly. "You'll go through this - one way or another."
Takaba just nodded weakly, sat down and closed his eyes, but opening them again as soon as the tattooing needle penetrated his skin. He watched motionlessly as the image of the snake on his wrist was over-drawn with that of a leather handcuff, bearing the kanji of Asami Ryuichi's name.
*
When the tattoo was finished Takaba drew away his arm and stormed out of the room. He didn't have to search long; Asami was standing just outside the room, smoking.
At first, Takaba didn't even know what to say and when he finally tried, all that came out of his mouth was an angry cry.
"Calm down, Akihito."
"Calm down? Calm down? I don't think so!" Takaba yelled. "Why? Why did you do that?"
"You seemed to suffer from some… misconceptions and I wanted to clear them up for you."
"By marking me as your personal… whatever it is I am? You…" Takaba's voice had gone flat with anger.
"No. That wasn't what I had in mind," Asami said seriously. "I just wanted to make two things very clear. And while you have finally realized the first one, the second one seems still outside your comprehension." Reaching out for Takaba, he stretched out his arm to bridge the distance between them and skimmed tenderly over his face, wiping away the tears of frustration that the young man hadn't even noticed falling. At the soft touch, Takaba lowered his eyes. Suddenly gasping, he gripped Asami's hand tightly, pulling back the other man's sleeve and staring unbelievingly at the exposed flesh.
There around Asami's right wrist was the image of the exact same leather cuff that now adorned Takaba's hand, only the kanji on it spelled a different name: Takaba Akihito.
The End
A/N: That's it! I really hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks a lot to everyone who took the time to comment on the chapters, it is highly appreciated! For everyone who'd like to re-read the whole thing, I put all the chapters in one pdf-document and uploaded it here.
Author: ninnive
Fandom: "Viewfinder"-Series by Yamane Ayano
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: pretty much G
Warnings: spoilers up to NT7
Summary: last chapter...
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Asami doesn't belong to me *hands him back to Takaba Yamane Ayano*
*
Since it seemed that every single criminal in this part of the world knew exactly where he lived, Takaba was utterly unwilling to return to his flat. So, after some quick phone calls, he quartered himself at Takato's who had a spare room and only one condition before he agreed to accomodate his friend: That Takaba finally told him the whole story of what had happened since the photographer had begun to vanish on a semi-regular basis.
And so Takaba did. After a huge dinner (and several glasses of cheap wine) he began to talk; slowly at first, because he wasn't used to having to find words for his situation, but once he'd stumbled through the beginning, the rest poured out of him like water breaking through ice. When he was finished, having bared his heart (and not a few of the sexual details), Takaba didn't dare to look up into his friend's face, afraid to find disapproval or even disgust there but still feeling somehow relieved that he'd finally had an opportunity to talk some things off his chest.
"So, uhm, is it over now? For good?" Takato asked after a long pause, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had crept between them.
"I hope so," Takaba replied tentatively. "I mean… I can't… I just hope so."
"Really? I mean, it's okay if you…"
"No. He doesn't… he's not good for me. Every time I meet him, he comes closer to breaking me apart. And I don't trust him to put me back together."
"Oh. Okay. But… you're still…?" Takato didn’t finish the question, opting instead for gesticulating wildly, while a flush spread all over his face.
"Yeah. I'm still gay."
"Okay. No problem. I mean, it takes a bit getting used to, but I guess I can see the advantages…"
"Advantages?"
"Well, all the more girls for me…"
*
It was nearly two weeks before Takaba found a new flat. Luckily he'd been able to secure himself some commissions in the meantime, so he hadn't to ask his parents to loan him money for the deposit. But still, the moving was very unhealthy for his finances and he was glad that Kou and Takato had offered to help him with the transport of his things.
After they were finished dragging everything from his old flat to the new one, the three of them were too tired to celebrate properly, so Takaba said goodbye to his friends and fell into the new bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.
*
The next day Takaba slept in. It was nearly noon when he finally got out of bed and fixed himself something to eat. Afterwards he unpacked his cameras and the rest of the equipment, but stopped when it came to the boxes with the clothing and his personal things. He just wasn't in the mood to be inside right now. Deciding to take a walk around his new neighbourhood, Takaba went out of the flat and, out of habit, looked into his mailbox, not really expecting anything to be there since he'd kept fairly quiet about his new whereabouts. The envelope he found was made of thick, heavy paper and had neither a stamp nor an adress on it. Wrestling down the rising feelings of dread, Takaba opened the letter gingerly, revealing a single sheet of paper with an adress, the date of the day after tomorrow and a time on it. The back side simply said: You can come by yourself or you can be brought by my men. Your choice. No signature.
Oh shit.
*
Two days later Takaba was on his way to the mentioned adress. Simply not going or even running away would have been futile; Asami had made it clear that he could find him anywhere. And while he'd have liked to avoid the Yakuza as long as possible, some small part of Takaba longed to see Asami again.
When he arrived, the other man was already there, leaning against his car and having a phone conversation which he abruptly stopped when he became aware of Takaba's presence.
"You're late." The carefully neutral tone of voice didn't give away anything. "I was just about to send someone for you."
"About five minutes! I didn't find this place immediately. And what am I doing here anyway?" Takaba demanded to know. He was unsure what to think; he'd been curious what Asami's reaction to his dramatical declaration from the last time they'd seen each other would be, but so far the other man didn't seem to have any.
"You'll see," Asami replied curtly. He cut off the conversation by simply turning around and vanishing into the house next to him.
Takaba snorted at that, but followed nonetheless.
The place turned out to be a tattoo studio and before the young photographer could voice his protests he was alone in a room with Asami's bespectacled bodyguard and a man who seemed to work here. After merely a glance the man reached for his equipment and Takaba's right hand simultaneously. Shocked, Takaba wanted to pull away, but a warning grip on his shoulder made him change his mind.
"It's no use," his keeper said quietly. "You'll go through this - one way or another."
Takaba just nodded weakly, sat down and closed his eyes, but opening them again as soon as the tattooing needle penetrated his skin. He watched motionlessly as the image of the snake on his wrist was over-drawn with that of a leather handcuff, bearing the kanji of Asami Ryuichi's name.
*
When the tattoo was finished Takaba drew away his arm and stormed out of the room. He didn't have to search long; Asami was standing just outside the room, smoking.
At first, Takaba didn't even know what to say and when he finally tried, all that came out of his mouth was an angry cry.
"Calm down, Akihito."
"Calm down? Calm down? I don't think so!" Takaba yelled. "Why? Why did you do that?"
"You seemed to suffer from some… misconceptions and I wanted to clear them up for you."
"By marking me as your personal… whatever it is I am? You…" Takaba's voice had gone flat with anger.
"No. That wasn't what I had in mind," Asami said seriously. "I just wanted to make two things very clear. And while you have finally realized the first one, the second one seems still outside your comprehension." Reaching out for Takaba, he stretched out his arm to bridge the distance between them and skimmed tenderly over his face, wiping away the tears of frustration that the young man hadn't even noticed falling. At the soft touch, Takaba lowered his eyes. Suddenly gasping, he gripped Asami's hand tightly, pulling back the other man's sleeve and staring unbelievingly at the exposed flesh.
There around Asami's right wrist was the image of the exact same leather cuff that now adorned Takaba's hand, only the kanji on it spelled a different name: Takaba Akihito.
The End
A/N: That's it! I really hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks a lot to everyone who took the time to comment on the chapters, it is highly appreciated! For everyone who'd like to re-read the whole thing, I put all the chapters in one pdf-document and uploaded it here.