genderbent Byakuran/Shouichi drabble thing
I'm really attached to the powerless TYE Byakuran premise.
Shouka was as unpopular in college as she now was in high school, and she never stopped wishing, idly, that they'd came in a different chronological order. She never got over her awkwardness, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't muster the half-false confidence that had straightened her back beneath a heavy cape, ten years in the future ago. And so, she had solitude with which she could study on her own terms, with music blasting through her head without worry for listening to others, and every so often she would get the eerie sensation of deja vu crawling up her back, the feeling that she'd already been through this in a college across the Pacific.
It was weird, but not so weird as seeing Byakuran-- social, partying, manipulative Byakuran, Byakuran who had lackeys for her lackeys and commanded them all with a childish tone and unhinged eyes-- entirely alone, without company to keep.
More than the deja vu, more than the clueless, normal look on Byakuran's face, more than the sensation of having more years of memories than life, it was that solitude that Shouka couldn't get used to. At first, maybe that was why she came so often to the island, just to surround that white being with a little more color, bring out her best side, but it never alleviated so much as a bit of the feeling that seeing her like that was wrong, and still she continued to visit.
So Shouka decided she was crazy, and left it at that because she may as well have been, anyway.
--
Byakuran didn't know the girl with the thick-rimmed glasses and the messy, gingery hair who would always come to see her, and even after learning her name--Shouka, Shouka, Irie Shouka--she still felt like she was missing something. It was in the way Shouka would stop herself in the middle of some sentences, and the way she'd react slowly to "Irie-chan" sometimes, and the way she looked like she hurt when she looked at Byakuran and the way she kept coming back anyway, just for a little bit each Sunday and sometimes for longer, days at a time, when it felt like spring or summer.
But at the same time, Byakuran never thought to ask, because Shouka was company in a way the guards clearly weren't, and Byakuran had gone from having so many friends to just having this one and she had no intention of letting her go, let alone chasing her away.
She was only human, so she clung to that contact. No matter what the chain on her ankle claimed, no matter what they said when she couldn't hear, no matter what had happened that she didn't understand-- she was still human.
Still, she never knew enough to be comfortable--but maybe she was just projecting her problems onto Shouka, thinking like that.
--
Byakuran reached out and yanked on a handful of copper, giggling just a little at the odd noise Shouka let out as she swatted blindly in reply. "What- what was that for?" she sputtered, and Byakuran pouted.
"So does that mean Irie-chan isn't an M, after all? I just thought I'd test out a hunch, but maybe I was wrong…" and Shouka's unreadable look had her trailing off.
"No," she said. "No, that might be it after all."
Shouka was as unpopular in college as she now was in high school, and she never stopped wishing, idly, that they'd came in a different chronological order. She never got over her awkwardness, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't muster the half-false confidence that had straightened her back beneath a heavy cape, ten years in the future ago. And so, she had solitude with which she could study on her own terms, with music blasting through her head without worry for listening to others, and every so often she would get the eerie sensation of deja vu crawling up her back, the feeling that she'd already been through this in a college across the Pacific.
It was weird, but not so weird as seeing Byakuran-- social, partying, manipulative Byakuran, Byakuran who had lackeys for her lackeys and commanded them all with a childish tone and unhinged eyes-- entirely alone, without company to keep.
More than the deja vu, more than the clueless, normal look on Byakuran's face, more than the sensation of having more years of memories than life, it was that solitude that Shouka couldn't get used to. At first, maybe that was why she came so often to the island, just to surround that white being with a little more color, bring out her best side, but it never alleviated so much as a bit of the feeling that seeing her like that was wrong, and still she continued to visit.
So Shouka decided she was crazy, and left it at that because she may as well have been, anyway.
--
Byakuran didn't know the girl with the thick-rimmed glasses and the messy, gingery hair who would always come to see her, and even after learning her name--Shouka, Shouka, Irie Shouka--she still felt like she was missing something. It was in the way Shouka would stop herself in the middle of some sentences, and the way she'd react slowly to "Irie-chan" sometimes, and the way she looked like she hurt when she looked at Byakuran and the way she kept coming back anyway, just for a little bit each Sunday and sometimes for longer, days at a time, when it felt like spring or summer.
But at the same time, Byakuran never thought to ask, because Shouka was company in a way the guards clearly weren't, and Byakuran had gone from having so many friends to just having this one and she had no intention of letting her go, let alone chasing her away.
She was only human, so she clung to that contact. No matter what the chain on her ankle claimed, no matter what they said when she couldn't hear, no matter what had happened that she didn't understand-- she was still human.
Still, she never knew enough to be comfortable--but maybe she was just projecting her problems onto Shouka, thinking like that.
--
Byakuran reached out and yanked on a handful of copper, giggling just a little at the odd noise Shouka let out as she swatted blindly in reply. "What- what was that for?" she sputtered, and Byakuran pouted.
"So does that mean Irie-chan isn't an M, after all? I just thought I'd test out a hunch, but maybe I was wrong…" and Shouka's unreadable look had her trailing off.
"No," she said. "No, that might be it after all."