TeniPuri: (FIC) Disappering One: Prologue: Yagyuu/Niou: PG-13
Title: Disappearing One: Prologue (title subject to change)
Pairing: Yagyuu/Niou
Rating: PG-13 (for now) NC-17 overall.
Summary: After getting drafted by the state, Niou continually has to redefine trouble...especially after meeting Yagyuu.
Warnings: AU. Very much so.
Notes: This was supposed to be a one-shot for justsonya, but it just evolved into something else. Um. This whole story is very much plotted out and in the writing it down process. I owe a huge amount of love to giving_ground for inspiration and just generally being wonderful.
Niou held the crumpled remains of his summons in his hand. The stationery had been pristine-likely worth more than he could earn in year-with inlaid gold script flowing on the page. No matter how many times he looked at it, it still said the same thing:
Niou Masaharu, you have been chosen by the resplendent Supreme Commander to perform honorable work in his name. Congratulations on becoming one of the Chosen to bring honor to our glorious state. Yanagi Renji, Head of the Ministry of Defense.
He wasn't quite sure what they wanted from him, but Niou knew damned well there was no option involved. Since Supreme Commander Yukimura took office, the level of civil disobedience nose-dived to non-existent. There was state-wide approval of anything he did and the rumors surrounding his Vice Commander, and Head of the Ministry of Alteration, were only told by the very brave-or very stupid-in half-spoken whispers.
He broke the news to his family over dinner and they each smiled widely, eyes gleaming with pride. It would probably be better for him if he thought the same way, but he didn't. Not that he'd tell anyone. Even he wasn't that stupid.
"You'll be climbing up the ranks in no time, Son. This is an opportunity to start your adult years on the right foot." His father sent him a pleading expression, one begging him not to spend the rest of his teen years in and out of trouble. It was that factor alone that made this invitation so suspicious, but he didn't think bringing it up would do any good.
He lay in his bed that night, thinking, staring blankly out the window. A sign was on the opposite building, bright, cheerful letters proclaiming, "Reelect Supreme Commander Yukimura Seiichi: Excelling Toward Perfection Since 2128." Snorting, Niou turned his back to the sign. The elections in this place were a joke. Only one name was ever on the ballot and voting was mandatory. If it weren't for the fact that his father was a very important person in the government, Niou doubted that they would have bothered with the whole song and dance. Instead, he'd be shuffled off to whatever euphemism people used for getting shot in the head and left to rot in a ditch. With those thoughts, Niou finally fell asleep.
The waiting room was decorated in the most hideous yellow paint with red trim. Niou wondered if this was part of the effort to throw people off, making them too sick to notice themselves getting fucked over.
"The Supreme Commander will see you now," said the cheery receptionist. She smiled and pointed to a door next to her desk. Niou nodded to her and walked over, not just a little surprised that he wasn't meeting with some lowly flunky.
Head bowed, he entered the room, wondering just what sort of shit he got himself into this time. Nothing good, he'd wager.
"Please sit, Niou." He took a seat and looked up at the face of the Supreme Commander, a relatively short, smiling man with eyes that could cut through him. The room was just on the edge of cold, air blowing in from his right. He fought his instinct to shiver and sat still, looking straight ahead. "I'm delighted that you accepted my invitation."
It was not as if he had much choice in the matter, really. Niou felt slightly unnerved when the corner of Yukimura's mouth lifted just enough so he noticed, as if he could read Niou's thoughts. "Yeah. 's great to be here."
"You're here because you've been selected to perform honorable work for the State," said a voice from the corner of the room. He turned and saw the looming figure of Vice Commander Sanada glowering at him. "Do it well and you'll have a future in the Ministry. Failure is not acceptable."
Niou shifted in his seat and turned his attention back to Yukimura. If death was a likely outcome, then it didn't matter if he just asked what he wanted. "Um. Yeah. So, why me? It's not like you don't know what I've done."
Surprisingly, Yukimura seemed pleased with the question. "You have many talents that I appreciate. You excel in hand-to-hand combat, show proficiency in weaponry, and don't use your code-breaking skills to infiltrate the State's programs."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" Niou doubted that Yukimura was telling him everything, but he didn't expect him to. It made him doubly suspicious that Yukimura just listed a few of his rather dubious hobbies, but hadn't given so much as a reprimand. This meant that he hadn't been as stealthy as he had hoped and it also meant that Yukimura had motive to not do anything about it. Or they wondered how much about Niou's activities they hadn't figured out. Either way, he had a hunch that this was a one-way mission that he wasn't returning from.
"It's a matter of State security. You're to go to a secret location and guard something vitally important to our State. You will protect it with your life."
"Is that something you anticipate me needing to do? Niou asked, wondering why a bum like him was asked to do this. If this thing was so important, then why wasn't it under lock and key, flanked by the State's best guards?
"You need to be prepared for any possibility. Remember, failure is not option. Now, you may go home tonight, say your goodbyes. Tomorrow, I will send someone to your home and they will deliver you to your assignment location. More details will be furnished to you upon your journey."
"I never said I agreed to this." Niou glanced at Sanada from the corner of his eye, watched as his hands balled into fists.
Yukimura sent him a calculated glance. "I don't recall giving you a choice."
With that, Yukimura got to his feet and walked out the door, leaving him alone with the Vice-Commander. Niou stood, affecting a causal pose as Sanada stalked over to him. "The Supreme Commander's decisions are final. You will do as he asks."
"Never said I wouldn't, either," Niou replied and left the room. He had a lot to do before tomorrow and it looked like taking off wasn't one of them.
"You're so fucked, man," Marui said, laughing, as he drank his beer. "So incredibly fucked."
Niou scowled, lowering his head to rest on his arms. Why did he think Marui would show any sign of sympathy? "Shut-up, asshole."
"Hey, you deserve it," Marui argued reasonably. He did deserve it, but that didn't mean Niou had to like it. "All that time spent in trouble."
"If I recall, you're not in the least bit innocent."
"If you recall, I'm a genius that doesn't get caught and you're a punk that's been picked up more times than I can count." Marui still had that infuriating grin on his face. Niou figured he couldn't get in anymore trouble if he punched it off, but he refrained anyhow.
"Shut it, ass." Niou grumbled and reached for another beer. "You'll miss me when I'm gone and you're stuck doing shit by yourself."
"Hey, I call dibs on your gaming systems and laptop." Marui punched his arm-and not lightly-before stealing the beer from Niou's hands. "Can't show up to your first day with a hangover."
"Why am I even friends with you?" Niou tried, but failed to regain control of the beer.
Marui guzzled down the rest of it and tossed the can aside. "I ask myself the same question all the time."
The man sent to get him showed up at the crack of dawn and wore an infuriating smile. It reminded him a little of his sister when she had a secret and wanted him to know it.
"There's a note inside," the man said as he hefted Niou's stuff into the trunk. He slid in the backseat. The driver pulled away from the curb and drove off to god knows where.
The letter was simple, direct. He was going to a place called The Outpost and he'd be there indefinitely. There would be basic amenities, but nothing so much as creature comforts. He was to guard a box that held something important to the State. He was never to abandon this duty and he was never to open the box itself. A partner would be arriving in the future to help guard the Outpost, but the box was his duty alone. Stressed more times than he felt necessary, it was vital that he never mention the box to anyone, even his future partners.
As soon as he set the letter down on the seat next to him, the paper yellowed and dissolved before he had a chance to pick it up again. "Shit."
The moment he exited the car, his luggage was unceremoniously dumped on the ground and the car was already kicking up dust before he could even say a word.
Sitting in the middle of a vast wasteland of nothing but dirt and a tiny smattering of trees was a desolate piece of shit building that couldn't have been more than five hundred square feet. The door was half-way hanging off and two of the windows were cracked. It seemed nothing like the buildings in the cities; even the squats looked more modern than the rickety shed in front of him.
Inside was no better. The floors creaked under his feet and there were more cobwebs than pieces of furniture. The kitchen was the only half-way clean place and was fully stocked, which surprised him, given the rest of the building. And, sitting in the middle of the second room down the hallway, was the fucking box. The Supreme Bloody Commander of the fucking State ordered him out in the middle of fucking nowhere to sit for a wooden box with a rusty lock on it.
He debated between not being arsed to clean up and being bored out of his bloody mind. It didn't take long before cleaning seemed like a holiday from sitting around doing abso-fucking-lutely nothing. A check of the place showed him that he had a broken television that only got reception on one channel which came in with increasing irregularity, a deck of cards with the two of hearts and ace of clubs missing, a crochet magazine with all the patterns removed and a small stack of bodice-ripper romance novels, of all things, in English. He only understood every third word and dearly wished it were less.
Cleaning didn't do much to take his mind off things. Instead, he spent most of the time mindlessly sweeping and dusting, brain resolutely coming up with various scenarios of how this was a total clusterfuck he couldn't possibly escape alive.
It was just when the shack was more or less tidy that a truck pulled into what he supposed was the carpark. Two heavy crates were set on the ground and a tired, young man exited the cab, duffle bag tossed over his shoulder.
"Hey," Niou said, looking at the short, scruffy guy. The kid looked him over with a bored expression and walked on by him into the shack. Instead of being alone, his now only possible source of companionship was a little shit with an attitude problem. He muttered to himself, staring at the fast-disappearing truck, "Just great."
"So," the kid said from behind him, "do you have any Ponta in this dump?"
Niou ignored him in favor wishing this latest shipment of supplies had alcohol. Lots of it. Though, he had a feeling that it just wouldn't be his lucky day.
That boy was just the first in a long line of partners. By the third, a red-eyed kid with anger management issues, he figured that this place was just a form of punishment and you left when you served out your time. Which meant, since he'd been there for four months, he was fucked.
Now, he was on his seventh partner, a buxom girl with cherry-red lips, and was wondering if they'd care if she went missing.
"And she started sort of seeing Ryou-kun. But he was seeing Shuuko on the side, so she started fooling around with Hikaru-kun, but he was seeing Misa, so she decided to date Hitomi-kun instead." She smiled at him again and leaned forward to show more of her cleavage. Normally, he'd have leered, but he was too close to giving himself a lobotomy to want to bother.
And then two days later, she was gone.
Niou had never been so happy to be absolutely alone. Of all the people that had been foisted on him, she had been the worst. Completely inane, babbling on and on about people he neither knew nor cared about for hours, seemingly without taking a fucking breath. If he had to deal with another person even half as annoying as she, he'd rather just eat his gun and take his chances with whatever came in the afterlife.
"Maybe I should just start walking," he said to himself, looking out the kitchen window at a vast, endless space of dirt and weeds.
"I would think you had more important things to do than die of thirst," came a voice from behind him. Niou spun around and saw a tall man wearing thin glasses standing in the doorway.
"Who the hell are you?" Niou's hand twitched, debating about reaching for his holster when the stranger tossed his id over on the table by Niou's side. Yagyuu Hiroshi, his newest partner.
Pairing: Yagyuu/Niou
Rating: PG-13 (for now) NC-17 overall.
Summary: After getting drafted by the state, Niou continually has to redefine trouble...especially after meeting Yagyuu.
Warnings: AU. Very much so.
Notes: This was supposed to be a one-shot for justsonya, but it just evolved into something else. Um. This whole story is very much plotted out and in the writing it down process. I owe a huge amount of love to giving_ground for inspiration and just generally being wonderful.
Niou held the crumpled remains of his summons in his hand. The stationery had been pristine-likely worth more than he could earn in year-with inlaid gold script flowing on the page. No matter how many times he looked at it, it still said the same thing:
Niou Masaharu, you have been chosen by the resplendent Supreme Commander to perform honorable work in his name. Congratulations on becoming one of the Chosen to bring honor to our glorious state. Yanagi Renji, Head of the Ministry of Defense.
He wasn't quite sure what they wanted from him, but Niou knew damned well there was no option involved. Since Supreme Commander Yukimura took office, the level of civil disobedience nose-dived to non-existent. There was state-wide approval of anything he did and the rumors surrounding his Vice Commander, and Head of the Ministry of Alteration, were only told by the very brave-or very stupid-in half-spoken whispers.
He broke the news to his family over dinner and they each smiled widely, eyes gleaming with pride. It would probably be better for him if he thought the same way, but he didn't. Not that he'd tell anyone. Even he wasn't that stupid.
"You'll be climbing up the ranks in no time, Son. This is an opportunity to start your adult years on the right foot." His father sent him a pleading expression, one begging him not to spend the rest of his teen years in and out of trouble. It was that factor alone that made this invitation so suspicious, but he didn't think bringing it up would do any good.
He lay in his bed that night, thinking, staring blankly out the window. A sign was on the opposite building, bright, cheerful letters proclaiming, "Reelect Supreme Commander Yukimura Seiichi: Excelling Toward Perfection Since 2128." Snorting, Niou turned his back to the sign. The elections in this place were a joke. Only one name was ever on the ballot and voting was mandatory. If it weren't for the fact that his father was a very important person in the government, Niou doubted that they would have bothered with the whole song and dance. Instead, he'd be shuffled off to whatever euphemism people used for getting shot in the head and left to rot in a ditch. With those thoughts, Niou finally fell asleep.
The waiting room was decorated in the most hideous yellow paint with red trim. Niou wondered if this was part of the effort to throw people off, making them too sick to notice themselves getting fucked over.
"The Supreme Commander will see you now," said the cheery receptionist. She smiled and pointed to a door next to her desk. Niou nodded to her and walked over, not just a little surprised that he wasn't meeting with some lowly flunky.
Head bowed, he entered the room, wondering just what sort of shit he got himself into this time. Nothing good, he'd wager.
"Please sit, Niou." He took a seat and looked up at the face of the Supreme Commander, a relatively short, smiling man with eyes that could cut through him. The room was just on the edge of cold, air blowing in from his right. He fought his instinct to shiver and sat still, looking straight ahead. "I'm delighted that you accepted my invitation."
It was not as if he had much choice in the matter, really. Niou felt slightly unnerved when the corner of Yukimura's mouth lifted just enough so he noticed, as if he could read Niou's thoughts. "Yeah. 's great to be here."
"You're here because you've been selected to perform honorable work for the State," said a voice from the corner of the room. He turned and saw the looming figure of Vice Commander Sanada glowering at him. "Do it well and you'll have a future in the Ministry. Failure is not acceptable."
Niou shifted in his seat and turned his attention back to Yukimura. If death was a likely outcome, then it didn't matter if he just asked what he wanted. "Um. Yeah. So, why me? It's not like you don't know what I've done."
Surprisingly, Yukimura seemed pleased with the question. "You have many talents that I appreciate. You excel in hand-to-hand combat, show proficiency in weaponry, and don't use your code-breaking skills to infiltrate the State's programs."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" Niou doubted that Yukimura was telling him everything, but he didn't expect him to. It made him doubly suspicious that Yukimura just listed a few of his rather dubious hobbies, but hadn't given so much as a reprimand. This meant that he hadn't been as stealthy as he had hoped and it also meant that Yukimura had motive to not do anything about it. Or they wondered how much about Niou's activities they hadn't figured out. Either way, he had a hunch that this was a one-way mission that he wasn't returning from.
"It's a matter of State security. You're to go to a secret location and guard something vitally important to our State. You will protect it with your life."
"Is that something you anticipate me needing to do? Niou asked, wondering why a bum like him was asked to do this. If this thing was so important, then why wasn't it under lock and key, flanked by the State's best guards?
"You need to be prepared for any possibility. Remember, failure is not option. Now, you may go home tonight, say your goodbyes. Tomorrow, I will send someone to your home and they will deliver you to your assignment location. More details will be furnished to you upon your journey."
"I never said I agreed to this." Niou glanced at Sanada from the corner of his eye, watched as his hands balled into fists.
Yukimura sent him a calculated glance. "I don't recall giving you a choice."
With that, Yukimura got to his feet and walked out the door, leaving him alone with the Vice-Commander. Niou stood, affecting a causal pose as Sanada stalked over to him. "The Supreme Commander's decisions are final. You will do as he asks."
"Never said I wouldn't, either," Niou replied and left the room. He had a lot to do before tomorrow and it looked like taking off wasn't one of them.
"You're so fucked, man," Marui said, laughing, as he drank his beer. "So incredibly fucked."
Niou scowled, lowering his head to rest on his arms. Why did he think Marui would show any sign of sympathy? "Shut-up, asshole."
"Hey, you deserve it," Marui argued reasonably. He did deserve it, but that didn't mean Niou had to like it. "All that time spent in trouble."
"If I recall, you're not in the least bit innocent."
"If you recall, I'm a genius that doesn't get caught and you're a punk that's been picked up more times than I can count." Marui still had that infuriating grin on his face. Niou figured he couldn't get in anymore trouble if he punched it off, but he refrained anyhow.
"Shut it, ass." Niou grumbled and reached for another beer. "You'll miss me when I'm gone and you're stuck doing shit by yourself."
"Hey, I call dibs on your gaming systems and laptop." Marui punched his arm-and not lightly-before stealing the beer from Niou's hands. "Can't show up to your first day with a hangover."
"Why am I even friends with you?" Niou tried, but failed to regain control of the beer.
Marui guzzled down the rest of it and tossed the can aside. "I ask myself the same question all the time."
The man sent to get him showed up at the crack of dawn and wore an infuriating smile. It reminded him a little of his sister when she had a secret and wanted him to know it.
"There's a note inside," the man said as he hefted Niou's stuff into the trunk. He slid in the backseat. The driver pulled away from the curb and drove off to god knows where.
The letter was simple, direct. He was going to a place called The Outpost and he'd be there indefinitely. There would be basic amenities, but nothing so much as creature comforts. He was to guard a box that held something important to the State. He was never to abandon this duty and he was never to open the box itself. A partner would be arriving in the future to help guard the Outpost, but the box was his duty alone. Stressed more times than he felt necessary, it was vital that he never mention the box to anyone, even his future partners.
As soon as he set the letter down on the seat next to him, the paper yellowed and dissolved before he had a chance to pick it up again. "Shit."
The moment he exited the car, his luggage was unceremoniously dumped on the ground and the car was already kicking up dust before he could even say a word.
Sitting in the middle of a vast wasteland of nothing but dirt and a tiny smattering of trees was a desolate piece of shit building that couldn't have been more than five hundred square feet. The door was half-way hanging off and two of the windows were cracked. It seemed nothing like the buildings in the cities; even the squats looked more modern than the rickety shed in front of him.
Inside was no better. The floors creaked under his feet and there were more cobwebs than pieces of furniture. The kitchen was the only half-way clean place and was fully stocked, which surprised him, given the rest of the building. And, sitting in the middle of the second room down the hallway, was the fucking box. The Supreme Bloody Commander of the fucking State ordered him out in the middle of fucking nowhere to sit for a wooden box with a rusty lock on it.
He debated between not being arsed to clean up and being bored out of his bloody mind. It didn't take long before cleaning seemed like a holiday from sitting around doing abso-fucking-lutely nothing. A check of the place showed him that he had a broken television that only got reception on one channel which came in with increasing irregularity, a deck of cards with the two of hearts and ace of clubs missing, a crochet magazine with all the patterns removed and a small stack of bodice-ripper romance novels, of all things, in English. He only understood every third word and dearly wished it were less.
Cleaning didn't do much to take his mind off things. Instead, he spent most of the time mindlessly sweeping and dusting, brain resolutely coming up with various scenarios of how this was a total clusterfuck he couldn't possibly escape alive.
It was just when the shack was more or less tidy that a truck pulled into what he supposed was the carpark. Two heavy crates were set on the ground and a tired, young man exited the cab, duffle bag tossed over his shoulder.
"Hey," Niou said, looking at the short, scruffy guy. The kid looked him over with a bored expression and walked on by him into the shack. Instead of being alone, his now only possible source of companionship was a little shit with an attitude problem. He muttered to himself, staring at the fast-disappearing truck, "Just great."
"So," the kid said from behind him, "do you have any Ponta in this dump?"
Niou ignored him in favor wishing this latest shipment of supplies had alcohol. Lots of it. Though, he had a feeling that it just wouldn't be his lucky day.
That boy was just the first in a long line of partners. By the third, a red-eyed kid with anger management issues, he figured that this place was just a form of punishment and you left when you served out your time. Which meant, since he'd been there for four months, he was fucked.
Now, he was on his seventh partner, a buxom girl with cherry-red lips, and was wondering if they'd care if she went missing.
"And she started sort of seeing Ryou-kun. But he was seeing Shuuko on the side, so she started fooling around with Hikaru-kun, but he was seeing Misa, so she decided to date Hitomi-kun instead." She smiled at him again and leaned forward to show more of her cleavage. Normally, he'd have leered, but he was too close to giving himself a lobotomy to want to bother.
And then two days later, she was gone.
Niou had never been so happy to be absolutely alone. Of all the people that had been foisted on him, she had been the worst. Completely inane, babbling on and on about people he neither knew nor cared about for hours, seemingly without taking a fucking breath. If he had to deal with another person even half as annoying as she, he'd rather just eat his gun and take his chances with whatever came in the afterlife.
"Maybe I should just start walking," he said to himself, looking out the kitchen window at a vast, endless space of dirt and weeds.
"I would think you had more important things to do than die of thirst," came a voice from behind him. Niou spun around and saw a tall man wearing thin glasses standing in the doorway.
"Who the hell are you?" Niou's hand twitched, debating about reaching for his holster when the stranger tossed his id over on the table by Niou's side. Yagyuu Hiroshi, his newest partner.