(no subject)
Well, I've brought a drabble to pay my entry, but what I really want to know is, does anyone know any other Nurarihyon fanfiction? Seriously, anything at all? I'd give my left arm for Rikuo/Zen or Nurarihyon/Gyuuki, or even night!Rikuo/Kana, which kinda won me despite myself, but mostly I just want fic. Annnnything. Got any links?
Title: empire
Summary: Rikuo in the morning.
The first thing Rikuo does when he wakes is to check for injuries. Every morning, without fail, he sits up in bed and glances down, looking for those telltale red stains. It's an old reflex, born of the time when his other face was just another strange figure in a dream, and those mottled bruises appeared overnight, in a way he knew better than to question too closely.
These days, Rikuo remembers what he does when he slips into his night face, but he still checks for injuries. He runs his hands down his thin, human body and remembers the sword stroke that caused this cut, the falling wall that caused that large, dark bruise. And then, because he can't avoid it, he remembers the face that cat youkai made as it died, and the feeling of his sword as it cut through bone. He remembers drinking the sakimori once more, and more youkai flocking to his banner. He counts down another faction conquered, and pictures the map of the Nura clan he saw once, with allies marked in green and enemies marked in red.
Then he throws off the blankets and gets up, looking for his uniform. Breakfast is human food for once, but one of the youkai has polished his socks and washed his shoes again, and by the time he is dashing in through the gates as the morning bell rings, the night is only a distant dream.
Title: empire
Summary: Rikuo in the morning.
The first thing Rikuo does when he wakes is to check for injuries. Every morning, without fail, he sits up in bed and glances down, looking for those telltale red stains. It's an old reflex, born of the time when his other face was just another strange figure in a dream, and those mottled bruises appeared overnight, in a way he knew better than to question too closely.
These days, Rikuo remembers what he does when he slips into his night face, but he still checks for injuries. He runs his hands down his thin, human body and remembers the sword stroke that caused this cut, the falling wall that caused that large, dark bruise. And then, because he can't avoid it, he remembers the face that cat youkai made as it died, and the feeling of his sword as it cut through bone. He remembers drinking the sakimori once more, and more youkai flocking to his banner. He counts down another faction conquered, and pictures the map of the Nura clan he saw once, with allies marked in green and enemies marked in red.
Then he throws off the blankets and gets up, looking for his uniform. Breakfast is human food for once, but one of the youkai has polished his socks and washed his shoes again, and by the time he is dashing in through the gates as the morning bell rings, the night is only a distant dream.