[Ad augusta] [Chapter I]
Title: Ad augusta
Pairing: Pin
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Sad but true.
Rating: R
Warnings: Explicit ciolence and physical and mental abuse of minors (teenagers, not childs, if that makes you feel any better even though it shouldn't) and probably other adult themes.
Summary: Ad augusta per angusta. To the glory through difficult paths. It was supposed to be just another job for Yamashita, until he met Jin.
A/N: This fic requires many thanks. First to my beta, nubello, who is so excited about the project and helps me brainstorm and with everything she can. And to all the people who hear me whine and angst and go over the plot again and again and again: shuu_cream, death_note13, bellemainec, changetje, fionnakreuz and please tell me if I'm missing someone.
The winter night was cold; someone had set some barrels alight inside the old warehouse. The smell of petrol was strong in the air, but the fire heated up the inside of the rusty metal structure, casting flickering lights over the dark shadows that reigned inside the warehouse. From time to time someone threw their cigarette butt or an alcohol bottle still filled with the last remaints into the barrels. The flames rose with a roar, covering over the low rumbling of the men talking and the shouts of those collecting the bets.
Akanishi took his son's t-shirt and handed him a rubber band to keep his hair off his face. He patted the boy's back and muttered a few encouraging words before pushing him into the middle of a ring the men were forming. The man lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and smiling as he saw his son skipping from foot to foot trying to warm up his half naked body.
Jin stretched out his arms before him, cracking his knuckles with a smirk before rolling his neck, which made a soft popping noise. There were a few snickers in the ring around him, some men maybe thinking he was too cocky and arrogant. He did not care. He really was one of the best fighters, after all. He kept bouncing from foot to foot, trying to stop the cold air from biting his skin. He was barefoot, and the floor under his soles frozen and dirty, layers of dust piling over rusty metal sheets that had fallen from the walls or the roof; screws, nails and glass pieces from the broken windows littered around them.
There was a small ruckus of interested comments and mocking remarks as his opponent broke into the ring of people. He was new; Jin was not sure of his name. He was a bit taller than Jin, and he looked fit under his tight t-shirt, his shoulders broad and arms strong. He had long black hair with bangs falling over his eyes, dark and bottomless orbs that studied Jin closely. Someone was whispering something to him, most likely his father. The man looked older than most of the fathers in there. Jin wondered how old the boy could be. He did not look much older than Jin himself, but he had to be. Jin was the youngest boy in the club and also one of the best fighters. He smirked, cracking his knuckles again and stepping into the middle of the ring.
The referee stepped in between the two of them. He was wearing a dark suit and Jin could see a tattoo peeking from under the jacket's long sleeve, but he knew there was no way the guy was yakuza. The club was run by petty criminals, those barely better than a high school gang. Suits and tattoos did not make yakuza out of those sorry wannabes. Jin grunted low from the back of his throat as the man introduced him.
“On the right, 17 years old Akanishi Jin, 170 centimetres and weighing in at 64 kilograms. On the left, 19 years old Satou Tomohisa, 175 centimetres and weighing in at 70 kilograms. Fight ends when someone surrenders or drops, thus unable to fight. Start!”
There was a loud noise outside the ring as someone hit two pieces of metal together, signaling the start of the fight. Jin smashed one fist against another and spat on the ground, moving forward. As he focused on his rival the people around them started to fade in the background, along with their loud cheering and the roar of the flames. He could no longer feel the cold; the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept his body warm despite the fact he was topless and barefoot.
They met in the middle of the ring, standing barely a metre away from each other. It was a calculated distance, just enough for Jin to look him in the eye without having to raise his head. That would have been humilliating and would have given the other an advantage. Jin could feel Satou's dark eyes fixed on him, following every single one of his movements, watching him. He moved with Jin, a step for every step the younger took, tracking him and always keeping him away. He kept carefully circling him, eyes trained on Jin without fail. Jin grunted, spitting at the ground again. He was not made for careful studying. He was made for action, for direct attack. Nothing gave away a rival as well as his movements during a fight.
Jin moved fast. He threw a tentative punch at the guy's face, one easy to forsee and stop. Satou stopped it without any problems; he had fast reflexes and was strong. He pushed Jin back, but did not make any effort to counterattack. Jin frowned, annoyed, but tried to remind himself to keep calm. His father had repeated it to him countless times. Keep calm, keep your cool, don't let them read your movements. He wasn't one of the best for nothing. He threw another couple of test punches, without success.
Finally tired of waiting, Jin threw himself forward. The sudden move surprised Satou, who could not stop the punch directed at his shoulder. The guy let out a grunt of pain and stumbled back. Jin smiled, but did not stop there; he ducked and pretended to slam his shoulder against his rival's middle, only to rise in the last moment and drive his fist against Satou's jaw. The guy shook his head, apparently dizzy, and Jin could already feel his victory close. He smirked, ready to unleash the next punch.
He was taken with his guard down when Satou suddenly ducked forward after what had seemed an attempt to straighten up a little. The guy kneed Jin's stomach, effectively depriving him of any air and throwing off his balance. Jin gasped and coughed, too slow to stop Satou's next movement. The elbow collided against his back, making him double over in a new coughing fit. He glared up at the guy's middle, not about to accept defeat so easily, and slammed himself against Satou's stomach head first. It was a strong impact, throwing the other guy back, and it gave Jin advantage enough to raise up and punch Satou straight in the face.
Jin fell to the ground as his rival pushed him away. He hit his head, and for a moment the world returned back to reality. The men making the circle were screaming loudly, most of them yelling for him to get up and attack again since they had bet their money on his victory. Jin shook his head, dizziness clutching at him. He could smell the petrol and the smoke from the cigarettes, he could hear the loud yells and the light kicks to his legs telling him to get up. He scrambled to get on his hands and knees, smiling as he saw his rival wiping some blood from his lips with the back of his hand. Jin grunted as he straightened up, vaguely noticing the bleeding cut on his forearm. There were bloodied shards of glass and metal where he had fallen but he had no time to worry about that.
The fight continued in a similar fashion for longer than Jin cared to keep track of. He packed as many punches as he received, but he was tiring quicker than Satou. The guy kept dodging his attacks, moving too fast for Jin to keep up with him as exahustion settled in. Jin started receiving more hits than he gave, and no matter how much adrenaline was pumping through his veins, the pain started being too much to bear. His movements became clumsy, uncoordinated, more aimless and desesperate as Jin felt himself losing it and frustration and fear took a hold on him. One last punch to Jin's temple sent him stumbling backward, and his rival's body slamming against his managed to send him down to the ground again. His head crashed against a metal sheet, making him see stars.
There were shouts in the background. Angry shouts, and then a countdown, louder than the others. There were people kicking his arms and sides to make him get up, throwing alcohol at him to wake him. It stung his cuts, but he could not bring himself to do more than hiss in reaction. He was tired. He was in pain. The cold started biting his skin as he stopped moving, making him shiver. He scrambled to stand on all fours just in time to see the referee raising Satou's arm over his head, declaring him to be the winner. Jin lowered his shoulders as furious shouts erupted around him.
He had lost. He could not remember the last time someone had defeated him, and now that newcomer had beaten him to the ground so... easily. There was a loud roar from one of the burning barrels as someone threw a full bottle of alcohol into it in rage; the sudden heat made Jin's head feel heavier and dizzier. He imagined not many people had placed their bets for the newcomer, not when said newcomer was fighting against Jin of all people. And now Jin had lost, making all those people lose their money, and that meant they would be furious at him and his father... A hand hit his temple, strongly. Jin grunted and shook his head, but any retort he had planned died in his throat when he looked up at his father who was staring furiously at him. Jin gulped, reminding himself brattiness would not do him any good right then. His father's face was contorted in anger, eyes dark with rage.
“You lost.”
“I... I'm sorry.”
His father slapped him across the face, open handed, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Jin bit his lip harshly enough to draw blood, looking down in shame.
“You lost. Do you think an apology will do? Do you know how much money this has cost us?” Jin did not move at all, not even when his father spat at his feet. He just fisted his hands into balls against the ground, squeezing a screw in one until it left a wound on his palm. “Don't you dare come home today. There's no place for a loser there.”
Jin did not try to dodge his t-shirt as his father threw it at his face, and did not move to take it off his head either as he heard the man walk away. Some more insults were thrown at him as the rest of the men left, but soon enough the place was deserted, silent but for the cold winter wind blowing between the broken windows and the metal bars of the structure and the crackling of the flames. Without anyone throwing new flammable material into them, they eventually started to die, and the cold started to claim the place back for itself. Jin slipped back into his t-shirt, though it did not do much against the night air.
He could hear some steps in the background, but he did not bother to look up to check who was still around; it was probably just someone checking how much he had made or lost on the bets. He better leave the place before he caught a cold; maybe he could find somewhere warm to spend the night. Maybe even some food. Jin grunted, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to get up, using some effort to do so.
He was surprised when a dirty hand with bruised knuckles wrapped around his wrist, helping to pull him up. He found himself looking at a bruised jaw, and raising his eyes a little he was met with the smiling face of his rival. The Satou guy looked tired too, bangs messy over his eyes. There was some blood around the corner of his lips, and some bruises on his face. Jin looked at him a little warily; he had just lost a fight against that guy and now he was being all nice to him.
“Akanishi Jin, right? It was a great fight. You're good.”
“Thanks.” Jin grunted in response.
Satou nodded, letting go of his hand after a firm shake. Jin threw a look at the warm pullover the other was wearing; he could really use one too as he was starting to get too cold. “Can I call you Jin? Akanishi's too long.”
Jin shrugged, a little thrown off by his words. He was not very sure how to behave around the suddenly friendly guy. Satou had looked silent and introverted before. Jin just shrugged, not asnwering, but Satou seemed to take it as a 'yes'.
“So, something up with your old man?”
Jin looked away, eyes darkening. “Dad doesn't let me go home when I lose a fight.”
“Why's that?”
“Loser's punishment, I guess.”
Satou sighed, and Jin was about to snap at the guy for pitying him when Satou spoke again, some disdain tainting his voice. “Seems you're pretty screwed, eh? Gonna end up catching pneumonia with the weather as it is. Don't you have a place to crash?”
Jin looked at the boy, annoyed. “Do I look like I have? You can fuck off if what you want is just making fun of me, or I'll beat the crap out your sorry ass.”
Satou laughed dryly, a warning smirk on his lips. “I think I've already proved well enough you're no match for me.”
“Shut up.”
As Satou laughed again Jin gritted his teeth, ready to jump at the other's neck. He was not expecting the boy's next words. “How 'bout you crash at my place? Wouldn't be good if someone stabbed you out there right after fighting me; money losses are never good for one's reputation when you're the new guy, y'know.”
Jin blinked, surprised. It could not be a trap, the guy was new and these petty fights barely granted enough money to make a trap worth the trouble. And he would really like a warm place to stay for the night, he did not fancy sleeping in the cold. He knew the way the guy fought too, he was sure he would be able to at least make his stand if the need arose.
“What will your old man say?”
“I wouldn't care about that even if I lived with him. I fight for him, he pays the rent of a small flat for me. Easy life.” Jin nodded, not very sure about what to say. Satou raised a hand as if he was going to touch him, but seemed to change his mind in the last moment, stretching his arm behind his neck in an awkward movement. “Let's get going, you seem cold.” The guy blinked and sighed, noticing the cuts on Jin's shoulder for the first time as the blood had started dampening the material of his t-shirt. “Though maybe we should make another stop first. I'll introduce you to a good friend of mine, how does that sound?”
Jin allowed himself a few more minutes of doubt before deciding survival came first and limped behind his former oponent as they headed out into the rundown streets.
Pairing: Pin
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Sad but true.
Rating: R
Warnings: Explicit ciolence and physical and mental abuse of minors (teenagers, not childs, if that makes you feel any better even though it shouldn't) and probably other adult themes.
Summary: Ad augusta per angusta. To the glory through difficult paths. It was supposed to be just another job for Yamashita, until he met Jin.
A/N: This fic requires many thanks. First to my beta, nubello, who is so excited about the project and helps me brainstorm and with everything she can. And to all the people who hear me whine and angst and go over the plot again and again and again: shuu_cream, death_note13, bellemainec, changetje, fionnakreuz and please tell me if I'm missing someone.
The winter night was cold; someone had set some barrels alight inside the old warehouse. The smell of petrol was strong in the air, but the fire heated up the inside of the rusty metal structure, casting flickering lights over the dark shadows that reigned inside the warehouse. From time to time someone threw their cigarette butt or an alcohol bottle still filled with the last remaints into the barrels. The flames rose with a roar, covering over the low rumbling of the men talking and the shouts of those collecting the bets.
Akanishi took his son's t-shirt and handed him a rubber band to keep his hair off his face. He patted the boy's back and muttered a few encouraging words before pushing him into the middle of a ring the men were forming. The man lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and smiling as he saw his son skipping from foot to foot trying to warm up his half naked body.
Jin stretched out his arms before him, cracking his knuckles with a smirk before rolling his neck, which made a soft popping noise. There were a few snickers in the ring around him, some men maybe thinking he was too cocky and arrogant. He did not care. He really was one of the best fighters, after all. He kept bouncing from foot to foot, trying to stop the cold air from biting his skin. He was barefoot, and the floor under his soles frozen and dirty, layers of dust piling over rusty metal sheets that had fallen from the walls or the roof; screws, nails and glass pieces from the broken windows littered around them.
There was a small ruckus of interested comments and mocking remarks as his opponent broke into the ring of people. He was new; Jin was not sure of his name. He was a bit taller than Jin, and he looked fit under his tight t-shirt, his shoulders broad and arms strong. He had long black hair with bangs falling over his eyes, dark and bottomless orbs that studied Jin closely. Someone was whispering something to him, most likely his father. The man looked older than most of the fathers in there. Jin wondered how old the boy could be. He did not look much older than Jin himself, but he had to be. Jin was the youngest boy in the club and also one of the best fighters. He smirked, cracking his knuckles again and stepping into the middle of the ring.
The referee stepped in between the two of them. He was wearing a dark suit and Jin could see a tattoo peeking from under the jacket's long sleeve, but he knew there was no way the guy was yakuza. The club was run by petty criminals, those barely better than a high school gang. Suits and tattoos did not make yakuza out of those sorry wannabes. Jin grunted low from the back of his throat as the man introduced him.
“On the right, 17 years old Akanishi Jin, 170 centimetres and weighing in at 64 kilograms. On the left, 19 years old Satou Tomohisa, 175 centimetres and weighing in at 70 kilograms. Fight ends when someone surrenders or drops, thus unable to fight. Start!”
There was a loud noise outside the ring as someone hit two pieces of metal together, signaling the start of the fight. Jin smashed one fist against another and spat on the ground, moving forward. As he focused on his rival the people around them started to fade in the background, along with their loud cheering and the roar of the flames. He could no longer feel the cold; the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept his body warm despite the fact he was topless and barefoot.
They met in the middle of the ring, standing barely a metre away from each other. It was a calculated distance, just enough for Jin to look him in the eye without having to raise his head. That would have been humilliating and would have given the other an advantage. Jin could feel Satou's dark eyes fixed on him, following every single one of his movements, watching him. He moved with Jin, a step for every step the younger took, tracking him and always keeping him away. He kept carefully circling him, eyes trained on Jin without fail. Jin grunted, spitting at the ground again. He was not made for careful studying. He was made for action, for direct attack. Nothing gave away a rival as well as his movements during a fight.
Jin moved fast. He threw a tentative punch at the guy's face, one easy to forsee and stop. Satou stopped it without any problems; he had fast reflexes and was strong. He pushed Jin back, but did not make any effort to counterattack. Jin frowned, annoyed, but tried to remind himself to keep calm. His father had repeated it to him countless times. Keep calm, keep your cool, don't let them read your movements. He wasn't one of the best for nothing. He threw another couple of test punches, without success.
Finally tired of waiting, Jin threw himself forward. The sudden move surprised Satou, who could not stop the punch directed at his shoulder. The guy let out a grunt of pain and stumbled back. Jin smiled, but did not stop there; he ducked and pretended to slam his shoulder against his rival's middle, only to rise in the last moment and drive his fist against Satou's jaw. The guy shook his head, apparently dizzy, and Jin could already feel his victory close. He smirked, ready to unleash the next punch.
He was taken with his guard down when Satou suddenly ducked forward after what had seemed an attempt to straighten up a little. The guy kneed Jin's stomach, effectively depriving him of any air and throwing off his balance. Jin gasped and coughed, too slow to stop Satou's next movement. The elbow collided against his back, making him double over in a new coughing fit. He glared up at the guy's middle, not about to accept defeat so easily, and slammed himself against Satou's stomach head first. It was a strong impact, throwing the other guy back, and it gave Jin advantage enough to raise up and punch Satou straight in the face.
Jin fell to the ground as his rival pushed him away. He hit his head, and for a moment the world returned back to reality. The men making the circle were screaming loudly, most of them yelling for him to get up and attack again since they had bet their money on his victory. Jin shook his head, dizziness clutching at him. He could smell the petrol and the smoke from the cigarettes, he could hear the loud yells and the light kicks to his legs telling him to get up. He scrambled to get on his hands and knees, smiling as he saw his rival wiping some blood from his lips with the back of his hand. Jin grunted as he straightened up, vaguely noticing the bleeding cut on his forearm. There were bloodied shards of glass and metal where he had fallen but he had no time to worry about that.
The fight continued in a similar fashion for longer than Jin cared to keep track of. He packed as many punches as he received, but he was tiring quicker than Satou. The guy kept dodging his attacks, moving too fast for Jin to keep up with him as exahustion settled in. Jin started receiving more hits than he gave, and no matter how much adrenaline was pumping through his veins, the pain started being too much to bear. His movements became clumsy, uncoordinated, more aimless and desesperate as Jin felt himself losing it and frustration and fear took a hold on him. One last punch to Jin's temple sent him stumbling backward, and his rival's body slamming against his managed to send him down to the ground again. His head crashed against a metal sheet, making him see stars.
There were shouts in the background. Angry shouts, and then a countdown, louder than the others. There were people kicking his arms and sides to make him get up, throwing alcohol at him to wake him. It stung his cuts, but he could not bring himself to do more than hiss in reaction. He was tired. He was in pain. The cold started biting his skin as he stopped moving, making him shiver. He scrambled to stand on all fours just in time to see the referee raising Satou's arm over his head, declaring him to be the winner. Jin lowered his shoulders as furious shouts erupted around him.
He had lost. He could not remember the last time someone had defeated him, and now that newcomer had beaten him to the ground so... easily. There was a loud roar from one of the burning barrels as someone threw a full bottle of alcohol into it in rage; the sudden heat made Jin's head feel heavier and dizzier. He imagined not many people had placed their bets for the newcomer, not when said newcomer was fighting against Jin of all people. And now Jin had lost, making all those people lose their money, and that meant they would be furious at him and his father... A hand hit his temple, strongly. Jin grunted and shook his head, but any retort he had planned died in his throat when he looked up at his father who was staring furiously at him. Jin gulped, reminding himself brattiness would not do him any good right then. His father's face was contorted in anger, eyes dark with rage.
“You lost.”
“I... I'm sorry.”
His father slapped him across the face, open handed, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Jin bit his lip harshly enough to draw blood, looking down in shame.
“You lost. Do you think an apology will do? Do you know how much money this has cost us?” Jin did not move at all, not even when his father spat at his feet. He just fisted his hands into balls against the ground, squeezing a screw in one until it left a wound on his palm. “Don't you dare come home today. There's no place for a loser there.”
Jin did not try to dodge his t-shirt as his father threw it at his face, and did not move to take it off his head either as he heard the man walk away. Some more insults were thrown at him as the rest of the men left, but soon enough the place was deserted, silent but for the cold winter wind blowing between the broken windows and the metal bars of the structure and the crackling of the flames. Without anyone throwing new flammable material into them, they eventually started to die, and the cold started to claim the place back for itself. Jin slipped back into his t-shirt, though it did not do much against the night air.
He could hear some steps in the background, but he did not bother to look up to check who was still around; it was probably just someone checking how much he had made or lost on the bets. He better leave the place before he caught a cold; maybe he could find somewhere warm to spend the night. Maybe even some food. Jin grunted, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to get up, using some effort to do so.
He was surprised when a dirty hand with bruised knuckles wrapped around his wrist, helping to pull him up. He found himself looking at a bruised jaw, and raising his eyes a little he was met with the smiling face of his rival. The Satou guy looked tired too, bangs messy over his eyes. There was some blood around the corner of his lips, and some bruises on his face. Jin looked at him a little warily; he had just lost a fight against that guy and now he was being all nice to him.
“Akanishi Jin, right? It was a great fight. You're good.”
“Thanks.” Jin grunted in response.
Satou nodded, letting go of his hand after a firm shake. Jin threw a look at the warm pullover the other was wearing; he could really use one too as he was starting to get too cold. “Can I call you Jin? Akanishi's too long.”
Jin shrugged, a little thrown off by his words. He was not very sure how to behave around the suddenly friendly guy. Satou had looked silent and introverted before. Jin just shrugged, not asnwering, but Satou seemed to take it as a 'yes'.
“So, something up with your old man?”
Jin looked away, eyes darkening. “Dad doesn't let me go home when I lose a fight.”
“Why's that?”
“Loser's punishment, I guess.”
Satou sighed, and Jin was about to snap at the guy for pitying him when Satou spoke again, some disdain tainting his voice. “Seems you're pretty screwed, eh? Gonna end up catching pneumonia with the weather as it is. Don't you have a place to crash?”
Jin looked at the boy, annoyed. “Do I look like I have? You can fuck off if what you want is just making fun of me, or I'll beat the crap out your sorry ass.”
Satou laughed dryly, a warning smirk on his lips. “I think I've already proved well enough you're no match for me.”
“Shut up.”
As Satou laughed again Jin gritted his teeth, ready to jump at the other's neck. He was not expecting the boy's next words. “How 'bout you crash at my place? Wouldn't be good if someone stabbed you out there right after fighting me; money losses are never good for one's reputation when you're the new guy, y'know.”
Jin blinked, surprised. It could not be a trap, the guy was new and these petty fights barely granted enough money to make a trap worth the trouble. And he would really like a warm place to stay for the night, he did not fancy sleeping in the cold. He knew the way the guy fought too, he was sure he would be able to at least make his stand if the need arose.
“What will your old man say?”
“I wouldn't care about that even if I lived with him. I fight for him, he pays the rent of a small flat for me. Easy life.” Jin nodded, not very sure about what to say. Satou raised a hand as if he was going to touch him, but seemed to change his mind in the last moment, stretching his arm behind his neck in an awkward movement. “Let's get going, you seem cold.” The guy blinked and sighed, noticing the cuts on Jin's shoulder for the first time as the blood had started dampening the material of his t-shirt. “Though maybe we should make another stop first. I'll introduce you to a good friend of mine, how does that sound?”
Jin allowed himself a few more minutes of doubt before deciding survival came first and limped behind his former oponent as they headed out into the rundown streets.