Evil Intent (2/4): Sparking
Title: Evil Intent (2/4): Sparking
Genre: Expanded continuity, friendship, shonen-ai, angst, lust, pre-slash, Hurricanger SPOILERS
Series: Ninpuu Sentai Harikenja
Pairing: Shiina Yousuke (Hurricane Red) x Kasumi Ikkou (KabutoRaijer)
Rating: PG/PG-13
Length: 2,382 words
Disclaimer: Toei own the rights to all characters
banner courtesy of automated_icons
semi-related plugs: kissearly / finalauraburst
note: Hayate Toshiaki and the Rice Field Kingdom
The younger man's head lay in his lap, his smooth, silken hair spread across the worn leather of Kasumi Ikkou's trousers and the soft, blood stained features of his youthful face illuminated by the glow of the roaring campfire.
His fingers remained entwined in Ikkou's despite his deep sleep and, whilst the arrangement was considerably uncomfortable, the former student of the Ikazuchi path did not quite have the heart to disrupt the heavy sleep of the other.
He looked down at that face for what felt like the hundredth time that night, tracing the lines of worry and suffering that had marked those boyish features. For each conflict with Jakanja, there was a scar upon the younger man's body and a deepened line upon his brow. And yet, as the young man slept, it was easy to forget that he had been through such hardship, such suffering. Watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest through the ragged combat jacket he wore, seeing the softly flickering of his eyelids and feeling the firm clasp of his hand, it was easy to mistake Shiina Yousuke for any number of countless dreamy but wayward youths.
For all purposes and intents he appeared to be a young man who had fallen away from the conventional life of his social group, drifting through the towns from prefecture to prefecture; a shadow on the wall of suburban bliss. It was only when one paused to examine the lines upon his face and the terrible tangle of scars and marks upon the flesh glimpsed beneath the combat jacket and sweat sodden black vest that one began to sense just how different the boy was...and just how terrible the forces that had touched his life were.
Gently, Ikkou lifted his free hand from the dirt and carefully lifted aside the corner of the jacket, revealing more fully the black vest and damp flesh beneath. Wrapped about the muscle and sinew of his shoulder and left arm were the obsidian tattoos of dark power, their corruption scarring the flesh the more they were used.
For a long time Kasumi Ikkou had known about the teachings of the Dark Hayate, that shadowy other road that lay beneath the paths of the three established Hayate schools. His own father had known of the Dark Hayate and dismissed it as being too weak, too full of half-measures for his tastes. For Kasumi Ikki, the shadowy corruption of the Dark Hayate's power was but a mere sidestep upon a road already swarming with nightmares.
For a long time Ikkou had carried his father's ignorance and dismissal of the Dark Hayate's significance. In fact it had only been during their battle with JaniIga that he truly came to understand the awesome power of those dark arts. Seeing the signature tattoos upon Yousuke's weakened flesh filled him with a sense of terrible foreboding and loss.
Abruptly he felt the hand in his tighten and, with pain and relief, he released his fingers, careful not to show the waking man just how firm his grip had actually been.
"I'm awake..." Yousuke said softly, his eyes still closed.
Aside from reclaiming his hand, Shiina Yousuke made no further attempts to move.
"I noticed." Ikkou answered simply.
"Why are you here, Ikkou?" Yousuke questioned, his voice suddenly direct and free from any of the constraints slumber had placed on him.
"I thought you might need a sparring partner." Ikkou shrugged, turning his gaze away to the pale light on the horizon that struggled beneath the weight of shadow and starlight.
"You shouldn't have come here, Ikkou..." Yousuke whispered, his voice suddenly trembling with emotion. "It's not safe...I'm not safe..."
"I know." Ikkou answered coldly.
"You wouldn't understand." Yousuke snapped, pulling himself up with indignation. "You're an Ikazuchi ninja, it's different for you."
Ikkou waited a moment, his eyes trained on the dawn as it struggled to peel back the shadow.
"I haven't been an Ikazuchi ninja since the moment you pulled me back from the shadows, Yousuke." He said firmly. "I understand more than anyone what you're going through...and I'm still going to call you an idiot for it."
Yousuke lifted his head towards the stars.
"I wanted to be stronger." He whispered, his voice soft and distant. "I wanted to make sure that I'd be strong enough when they came...and they are coming back, Ikkou...I can sense it."
"I know." Ikkou said grimly. "Oboro's early warning satellite network picked them up in deep space. She's rushing to finish work on the Revolver Platforms and refit Gorai Beetle and Gorai Stag for space travel. Mugensei-sensei doesn't believe they'll reach us at least for another year...I'm personally inclined to believe that the better prepared we are, the better chance we have of winning."
"Who else knows?" Yousuke asked in a dreamy voice.
"You, me; that's it. There's no point in trying to talk to Ishhu about these things, he's too absorbed in his work. I envy him; I wish I could put all this aside so easily." A note of bitter resentment discoloured his words and Ikkou found himself reluctantly tightening his fists.
"What about Nanami and Kouta?" Yousuke continued.
Kasumi Ikkou shrugged with disinterest.
"I haven't heard from Nanami since her career took off. Kouta's apparently studying for some kind of medical school entrance exam." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever the case, it's nothing to do with me."
A star flashed across the heavens and Yousuke tensed.
"When Jakanja return..." He whispered, his voice trembling as he tried to hold back the dark power roaring within him. "I don't want them to know. I want them to live their lives and never be aware that our fight never ended...I want them to be happy, Ikkou...and so I'm fighting...I'm fighting even now...to hold this power inside of me, to master it...so they won't have to."
"There were other ways, Yousuke..." Ikkou whispered, reaching out and placing a hand on the other's shoulder.
The younger man shrugged it with a cringe, his body hunched over, the soil darkening and the grass wilting as the weight of his blood red aura pushed downwards.
"There was no other way. I have to master the Fist of the Dark Hayate...only then can I be strong enough to defeat Jakanja!" He cried out, his voice rising to a howl as the thunder broke and flames of dark red energy ignited from him.
Ikkou was thrown backwards by the force of Yousuke's power. Swiftly he dropped into a roll and jumped up into a crouch, throwing his arms up over his face.
"This isn't fighting, Yousuke!" He shouted in reply. "This is giving up!"
The flames burnt brighter, Yousuke's fists lashing out against trees and stones alike, shattering them to tiny fragments as the raging horror of his power flooded every aspect of his being. He clenched his fists and pulled them back, slamming them down into the heart of the campfire, sending embers and burning sticks flying about him as the ground shattered beneath him.
Ikkou clenched his teeth. The level of Yousuke's power, augmented by the untapped rage of the Dark Hayate was way beyond anything he had seen before. Even his father had been cautious about how much dark energy he channelled through his fists; the power running through Yousuke was like a roaring river, out of control and endless.
He placed one heavy boot down upon the dead soil, then another, then another and suddenly he was running. Sprinting straight at the frail, raging figure of the man he had travelled to join, standing at the heart of the fire.
Sensing his approach, Shiina Yousuke turned, eyes white and face drawn upon the bones revealing his blood stained teeth. Ikkou pulled his fist back wide as he ran and slammed it forwards. Instinctively Yousuke lifted his own hand. The former KabutoRaijer's fist crashed into his palm and for a moment held it before finally momentum pushed down upon him and he lost his balance.
The two men tumbled into the dirt and embers and swiftly Ikkou struck out again, bloodying the corner of Yousuke's mouth as he split his lip.
The Hayate ninja's eyes remained white for a moment longer and then slowly dulled once more, the fire faded from around him.
"Ikk...ou..." Yousuke whispered, looking up at him with imploring eyes, his hands weakly taking hold of the other man's bare arms.
"Listen to me, Yousuke!" Ikkou said firmly. "If you stay here, you're going to die. Come back to Shinobi Valley with me...we can ask Mugensei-sensei..."
Yousuke shook his head sadly, tears welling up in his deep, child-like eyes.
"Ikkou...do you know the story of Hayate Toshiaki and the Rice Field Kingdom?"
Ikkou shook his head with uncertainty. He understood the facts of Hayate's life as a historical figure and his significance in promoting Hayate Way ninjitsu...and suppressing the Ikazuchi Way but the level of fable and fiction which certain schools of the Hayate Way attributed to Hayate's life had never held much fascination for him.
He looked blankly down at the younger man pressed into the dirt beneath him.
"No." He said at last.
Yousuke smiled sadly.
"The story is a fable. The thread of the rice is the tattoos on the body and the magic of the kingdom, and the arts Hayate devised whilst influenced by it, are the Dark Hayate. It's poison, Ikkou...powerful poison that permeates all flesh."
"Then why give yourself to it?" Ikkou shouted with sudden anger.
"To become stronger..." Yousuke answered once more.
"There were other ways!" Ikkou shouted in frustration.
"If I can master this..." Yousuke whispered, his voice distant once more. "If I can finally triumph over the Dark Hayate and turn its power away from shadow...then I can fight for all of you, Ikkou...even you...all of you will be spared...if only my resolve can last..."
Ikkou's nostrils flared and his lips twitched with anger.
"Idiot. This isn't a burden you have to carry alone. We're your friends, we'll fight by you."
"Shurikenger was our friend..." Yousuke countered. "I...I don't want to lose any more friends..."
"Idiot." Ikkou snarled once more. "Only you would think that."
"I know..." Yousuke replied with a rare smile.
The younger man turned his head, strands of his long, auburn hair falling over his sad eyes as he lifted his face towards Ikkou, their lips brushing against each other as he tried to rise and Ikkou refused to move.
"Ikkou..." He whispered.
"Yousuke," The other repeated, gently taking hold of the fallen Hurricanger's shoulder with one hand whilst his other slipped, unexpectedly around his back.
Initially Ikkou thought that he should try and support the younger man's back if his strength failed him once more but he found the hand unwilling to obey him and it swiftly dropped further than he had intended, tracing a line down the curve of the younger man's back and finding a hold upon his soft behind.
Gently he pushed his bleeding lips against Yousuke's own, softly breathing into the young man's frail body, his hand all the while pressed firmly against the soft stillness of Yousuke's behind. There was a moment of confused excitement, a moment in which he once more remembered the taste of that hidden desire he kept buried and, for the briefest and most fleeting of seconds he gave in completely, abandoning himself amongst the scorched grass and the tenderness of the younger man's lips.
Minutes passed in which the world around them lost all meaning for him and then, slowly and yet somehow suddenly the younger man slipped away from him.
A moan escaped Yousuke's bruised lips and he opened his eyes, frowning in concentration at the face above him.
Gently, Ikkou eased himself up from the other man, reaching down his hand and taking hold of the other in order to help lift him.
"There's a fighting tournament two weeks from now." Ikkou said, feigning disinterest despite the flush of his cheeks and the beat of his heart. "I'm going to enter...and I want you to, as well."
Yousuke turned and looked at him, glancing up and down in a way that made Ikkou feel faintly self-conscious.
"Ikkou..." He said, softly but firmly. "I can't...you don't know what this power has made me..."
"All the more reason to enter." Ikkou responded. "What better motivation do you need? If you fail to fully understand your power, if you fail to keep it under control and break it to your will then people will die. It's as simple as that. You need no other motivation."
Yousuke held his gaze, their eyes meeting. In his heart he felt as hungry as the prince of the rice field. His hands tensed, balling into fists, sweat trickling down his back.
"I can't agree to that." Yousuke said at last.
"You don't have to. It's simple; if you stay here people will die, which means I have to fight you myself now. If you enter the tournament, you've got two weeks to ensure you can control the responsibilities you've taken upon yourself. No one dies. It's as simple as that, Yousuke."
Yousuke turned away again, the pale horizon blossoming at last in brilliant sunshine and casting his shadow long upon the scorched earth.
"Okay..." He whispered, his voice trembling. "But you have to promise me Ikkou...if I lose myself during the tournament...you have to promise..."
He turned slowly and in that moment Kasumi Ikkou felt his heart breaking in sympathy for the man that stood before; the man who had, in turns, been his most hated enemy, his most trusted student and his greatest friend.
"You have to promise..." Yousuke continued. "That you'll kill me yourself."
Ikkou nodded without pause, not from dispassion but from fear that waiting might lead him to say more than he felt was prudent. He said nothing, simply grunted and looked directly into the rising sun, hoping to hide the tears that even now stood in his own eyes.
Before them the sun rose slowly whilst behind the ruins of the campfire cast fading shadows like guilty secrets in the early morning air. Ahead lay the King of World Fighters Final Fist Tournament, ahead lay the true power of the Dark Hayate.
Genre: Expanded continuity, friendship, shonen-ai, angst, lust, pre-slash, Hurricanger SPOILERS
Series: Ninpuu Sentai Harikenja
Pairing: Shiina Yousuke (Hurricane Red) x Kasumi Ikkou (KabutoRaijer)
Rating: PG/PG-13
Length: 2,382 words
Disclaimer: Toei own the rights to all characters
banner courtesy of automated_icons
semi-related plugs: kissearly / finalauraburst
note: Hayate Toshiaki and the Rice Field Kingdom
The younger man's head lay in his lap, his smooth, silken hair spread across the worn leather of Kasumi Ikkou's trousers and the soft, blood stained features of his youthful face illuminated by the glow of the roaring campfire.
His fingers remained entwined in Ikkou's despite his deep sleep and, whilst the arrangement was considerably uncomfortable, the former student of the Ikazuchi path did not quite have the heart to disrupt the heavy sleep of the other.
He looked down at that face for what felt like the hundredth time that night, tracing the lines of worry and suffering that had marked those boyish features. For each conflict with Jakanja, there was a scar upon the younger man's body and a deepened line upon his brow. And yet, as the young man slept, it was easy to forget that he had been through such hardship, such suffering. Watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest through the ragged combat jacket he wore, seeing the softly flickering of his eyelids and feeling the firm clasp of his hand, it was easy to mistake Shiina Yousuke for any number of countless dreamy but wayward youths.
For all purposes and intents he appeared to be a young man who had fallen away from the conventional life of his social group, drifting through the towns from prefecture to prefecture; a shadow on the wall of suburban bliss. It was only when one paused to examine the lines upon his face and the terrible tangle of scars and marks upon the flesh glimpsed beneath the combat jacket and sweat sodden black vest that one began to sense just how different the boy was...and just how terrible the forces that had touched his life were.
Gently, Ikkou lifted his free hand from the dirt and carefully lifted aside the corner of the jacket, revealing more fully the black vest and damp flesh beneath. Wrapped about the muscle and sinew of his shoulder and left arm were the obsidian tattoos of dark power, their corruption scarring the flesh the more they were used.
For a long time Kasumi Ikkou had known about the teachings of the Dark Hayate, that shadowy other road that lay beneath the paths of the three established Hayate schools. His own father had known of the Dark Hayate and dismissed it as being too weak, too full of half-measures for his tastes. For Kasumi Ikki, the shadowy corruption of the Dark Hayate's power was but a mere sidestep upon a road already swarming with nightmares.
For a long time Ikkou had carried his father's ignorance and dismissal of the Dark Hayate's significance. In fact it had only been during their battle with JaniIga that he truly came to understand the awesome power of those dark arts. Seeing the signature tattoos upon Yousuke's weakened flesh filled him with a sense of terrible foreboding and loss.
Abruptly he felt the hand in his tighten and, with pain and relief, he released his fingers, careful not to show the waking man just how firm his grip had actually been.
"I'm awake..." Yousuke said softly, his eyes still closed.
Aside from reclaiming his hand, Shiina Yousuke made no further attempts to move.
"I noticed." Ikkou answered simply.
"Why are you here, Ikkou?" Yousuke questioned, his voice suddenly direct and free from any of the constraints slumber had placed on him.
"I thought you might need a sparring partner." Ikkou shrugged, turning his gaze away to the pale light on the horizon that struggled beneath the weight of shadow and starlight.
"You shouldn't have come here, Ikkou..." Yousuke whispered, his voice suddenly trembling with emotion. "It's not safe...I'm not safe..."
"I know." Ikkou answered coldly.
"You wouldn't understand." Yousuke snapped, pulling himself up with indignation. "You're an Ikazuchi ninja, it's different for you."
Ikkou waited a moment, his eyes trained on the dawn as it struggled to peel back the shadow.
"I haven't been an Ikazuchi ninja since the moment you pulled me back from the shadows, Yousuke." He said firmly. "I understand more than anyone what you're going through...and I'm still going to call you an idiot for it."
Yousuke lifted his head towards the stars.
"I wanted to be stronger." He whispered, his voice soft and distant. "I wanted to make sure that I'd be strong enough when they came...and they are coming back, Ikkou...I can sense it."
"I know." Ikkou said grimly. "Oboro's early warning satellite network picked them up in deep space. She's rushing to finish work on the Revolver Platforms and refit Gorai Beetle and Gorai Stag for space travel. Mugensei-sensei doesn't believe they'll reach us at least for another year...I'm personally inclined to believe that the better prepared we are, the better chance we have of winning."
"Who else knows?" Yousuke asked in a dreamy voice.
"You, me; that's it. There's no point in trying to talk to Ishhu about these things, he's too absorbed in his work. I envy him; I wish I could put all this aside so easily." A note of bitter resentment discoloured his words and Ikkou found himself reluctantly tightening his fists.
"What about Nanami and Kouta?" Yousuke continued.
Kasumi Ikkou shrugged with disinterest.
"I haven't heard from Nanami since her career took off. Kouta's apparently studying for some kind of medical school entrance exam." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever the case, it's nothing to do with me."
A star flashed across the heavens and Yousuke tensed.
"When Jakanja return..." He whispered, his voice trembling as he tried to hold back the dark power roaring within him. "I don't want them to know. I want them to live their lives and never be aware that our fight never ended...I want them to be happy, Ikkou...and so I'm fighting...I'm fighting even now...to hold this power inside of me, to master it...so they won't have to."
"There were other ways, Yousuke..." Ikkou whispered, reaching out and placing a hand on the other's shoulder.
The younger man shrugged it with a cringe, his body hunched over, the soil darkening and the grass wilting as the weight of his blood red aura pushed downwards.
"There was no other way. I have to master the Fist of the Dark Hayate...only then can I be strong enough to defeat Jakanja!" He cried out, his voice rising to a howl as the thunder broke and flames of dark red energy ignited from him.
Ikkou was thrown backwards by the force of Yousuke's power. Swiftly he dropped into a roll and jumped up into a crouch, throwing his arms up over his face.
"This isn't fighting, Yousuke!" He shouted in reply. "This is giving up!"
The flames burnt brighter, Yousuke's fists lashing out against trees and stones alike, shattering them to tiny fragments as the raging horror of his power flooded every aspect of his being. He clenched his fists and pulled them back, slamming them down into the heart of the campfire, sending embers and burning sticks flying about him as the ground shattered beneath him.
Ikkou clenched his teeth. The level of Yousuke's power, augmented by the untapped rage of the Dark Hayate was way beyond anything he had seen before. Even his father had been cautious about how much dark energy he channelled through his fists; the power running through Yousuke was like a roaring river, out of control and endless.
He placed one heavy boot down upon the dead soil, then another, then another and suddenly he was running. Sprinting straight at the frail, raging figure of the man he had travelled to join, standing at the heart of the fire.
Sensing his approach, Shiina Yousuke turned, eyes white and face drawn upon the bones revealing his blood stained teeth. Ikkou pulled his fist back wide as he ran and slammed it forwards. Instinctively Yousuke lifted his own hand. The former KabutoRaijer's fist crashed into his palm and for a moment held it before finally momentum pushed down upon him and he lost his balance.
The two men tumbled into the dirt and embers and swiftly Ikkou struck out again, bloodying the corner of Yousuke's mouth as he split his lip.
The Hayate ninja's eyes remained white for a moment longer and then slowly dulled once more, the fire faded from around him.
"Ikk...ou..." Yousuke whispered, looking up at him with imploring eyes, his hands weakly taking hold of the other man's bare arms.
"Listen to me, Yousuke!" Ikkou said firmly. "If you stay here, you're going to die. Come back to Shinobi Valley with me...we can ask Mugensei-sensei..."
Yousuke shook his head sadly, tears welling up in his deep, child-like eyes.
"Ikkou...do you know the story of Hayate Toshiaki and the Rice Field Kingdom?"
Ikkou shook his head with uncertainty. He understood the facts of Hayate's life as a historical figure and his significance in promoting Hayate Way ninjitsu...and suppressing the Ikazuchi Way but the level of fable and fiction which certain schools of the Hayate Way attributed to Hayate's life had never held much fascination for him.
He looked blankly down at the younger man pressed into the dirt beneath him.
"No." He said at last.
Yousuke smiled sadly.
"The story is a fable. The thread of the rice is the tattoos on the body and the magic of the kingdom, and the arts Hayate devised whilst influenced by it, are the Dark Hayate. It's poison, Ikkou...powerful poison that permeates all flesh."
"Then why give yourself to it?" Ikkou shouted with sudden anger.
"To become stronger..." Yousuke answered once more.
"There were other ways!" Ikkou shouted in frustration.
"If I can master this..." Yousuke whispered, his voice distant once more. "If I can finally triumph over the Dark Hayate and turn its power away from shadow...then I can fight for all of you, Ikkou...even you...all of you will be spared...if only my resolve can last..."
Ikkou's nostrils flared and his lips twitched with anger.
"Idiot. This isn't a burden you have to carry alone. We're your friends, we'll fight by you."
"Shurikenger was our friend..." Yousuke countered. "I...I don't want to lose any more friends..."
"Idiot." Ikkou snarled once more. "Only you would think that."
"I know..." Yousuke replied with a rare smile.
The younger man turned his head, strands of his long, auburn hair falling over his sad eyes as he lifted his face towards Ikkou, their lips brushing against each other as he tried to rise and Ikkou refused to move.
"Ikkou..." He whispered.
"Yousuke," The other repeated, gently taking hold of the fallen Hurricanger's shoulder with one hand whilst his other slipped, unexpectedly around his back.
Initially Ikkou thought that he should try and support the younger man's back if his strength failed him once more but he found the hand unwilling to obey him and it swiftly dropped further than he had intended, tracing a line down the curve of the younger man's back and finding a hold upon his soft behind.
Gently he pushed his bleeding lips against Yousuke's own, softly breathing into the young man's frail body, his hand all the while pressed firmly against the soft stillness of Yousuke's behind. There was a moment of confused excitement, a moment in which he once more remembered the taste of that hidden desire he kept buried and, for the briefest and most fleeting of seconds he gave in completely, abandoning himself amongst the scorched grass and the tenderness of the younger man's lips.
Minutes passed in which the world around them lost all meaning for him and then, slowly and yet somehow suddenly the younger man slipped away from him.
A moan escaped Yousuke's bruised lips and he opened his eyes, frowning in concentration at the face above him.
Gently, Ikkou eased himself up from the other man, reaching down his hand and taking hold of the other in order to help lift him.
"There's a fighting tournament two weeks from now." Ikkou said, feigning disinterest despite the flush of his cheeks and the beat of his heart. "I'm going to enter...and I want you to, as well."
Yousuke turned and looked at him, glancing up and down in a way that made Ikkou feel faintly self-conscious.
"Ikkou..." He said, softly but firmly. "I can't...you don't know what this power has made me..."
"All the more reason to enter." Ikkou responded. "What better motivation do you need? If you fail to fully understand your power, if you fail to keep it under control and break it to your will then people will die. It's as simple as that. You need no other motivation."
Yousuke held his gaze, their eyes meeting. In his heart he felt as hungry as the prince of the rice field. His hands tensed, balling into fists, sweat trickling down his back.
"I can't agree to that." Yousuke said at last.
"You don't have to. It's simple; if you stay here people will die, which means I have to fight you myself now. If you enter the tournament, you've got two weeks to ensure you can control the responsibilities you've taken upon yourself. No one dies. It's as simple as that, Yousuke."
Yousuke turned away again, the pale horizon blossoming at last in brilliant sunshine and casting his shadow long upon the scorched earth.
"Okay..." He whispered, his voice trembling. "But you have to promise me Ikkou...if I lose myself during the tournament...you have to promise..."
He turned slowly and in that moment Kasumi Ikkou felt his heart breaking in sympathy for the man that stood before; the man who had, in turns, been his most hated enemy, his most trusted student and his greatest friend.
"You have to promise..." Yousuke continued. "That you'll kill me yourself."
Ikkou nodded without pause, not from dispassion but from fear that waiting might lead him to say more than he felt was prudent. He said nothing, simply grunted and looked directly into the rising sun, hoping to hide the tears that even now stood in his own eyes.
Before them the sun rose slowly whilst behind the ruins of the campfire cast fading shadows like guilty secrets in the early morning air. Ahead lay the King of World Fighters Final Fist Tournament, ahead lay the true power of the Dark Hayate.