Allegro moderato e maestoso: robbed time
Title: Allegro moderato e maestoso: robbed time
What: Digimon Adventure 02 fanfiction - short story
Rating: G
Words: 1395
Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a question. Osaryo. The first movement.
Notes: Written for ajora for the digimon secret_santamon Yuletide exchange 2007. This piece and the second part are named after the two movements of Saint-Saëns' Cello Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Opus 119.
Alternate link: Fanfiction.net
Sample: Osamu was being awfully quiet today...
Osamu was being awfully quiet today, Ryo thought. Even for Osamu. Ryo had dragged him out to Kamezuka Koen for his own good, declaring he needed a bit of fresh air, and he’d reluctantly complied, but had refused to have anything to do with the soccer ball Ken had brought along. Maybe Ryo was terrible at soccer, and most sports actually, but at least he was trying.
Maybe Osamu would be more responsive to him? “Ken, go practice your drooling or something for a few minutes, okay? I’m gonna talk to your brother the spoilsport for a moment.”
“It’s called dribbling, Ryo,” Ken informed him loftily, before running off to do so.
Ryo grinned and watched him for a moment before taking the opportunity to bug Osamu. Always a fun hobby. “Oi, party pooper.”
His friend lifted an eyebrow in response. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best opener. Ryo barged on regardless. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Osamu replied shortly, in that tone of voice that said the exact opposite.
Curious, Ryo tilted his head to the side. “Come on, you can’t be that bad at soccer. Not worse than me, anyway.”
“It’s not the soccer,” snapped Osamu. “It’s...”
He trailed off. But he’d explain eventually, Ryo knew, so he twiddled his thumbs patiently while waiting for Osamu to go on.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now,” Osamu said at length, “but I’m worried about the consequences.”
Ryo blinked. That sounded bad. “Something dangerous, you mean?”
Osamu hesitated, wrinkling his nose. “You could say that. Actually, no, not really. Well, sort of.”
Now Ryo was completely confused. Not a foreign feeling around Osamu, but this took the cake. “If it’s only sort of dangerous, why don’t you try it in a safe place?”
After a moment, Osamu gave him a slight nod. “This park seems safe enough, don’t you think?”
Ryo didn’t have time to voice his confusion before Osamu’s lips were on his. It took him a moment to realize that this was in fact both reality rather than fantasy and a rather pleasant experience, and to respond in turn, pulling him closer.
They stopped only when it started getting hard to breathe, but Ryo kept his arms around Osamu anyway, somewhat amazed when Osamu didn’t push him away. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time too.”
Osamu smiled.
Elsewhere in the house, the phone was ringing. Absorbed in trying to beat Dycedarg, Ryo ignored it.
His mother picked it up anyway, and he could vaguely hear the murmur of her voice going through perfunctory politeness, warm interest, and was that a correction? before she called out, “Ryo, it’s for you!”
“Hang on,” Ryo yelled, before watching the last of his party die a miserable death. “Chyort poberi!”
“I heard that,” Mom smirked as she passed him the phone.
“Sorry,” he offered, before putting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“When are you leaving?”
That was Osamu all over, not bothering to introduce himself and getting straight to business as always. Ryo tried not to smile, but it crept into his voice anyway. “Sunday. Three-thirty flight from Haneda; Dad doesn’t like taking the train for more than half an hour. I’ve told you this before.”
“I forgot,” retorted Osamu. A likely story. He was sure his... was ‘friend’ really the right word now? He was sure Osamu programmed it into his diary or something. For a moment, he was silent. “Damnit, I can’t come and see you off.”
“That’s okay, we’ll see each other before I go on Friday anyway.”
“No, I’m leaving on Monday, remember,” Osamu pointed out, “that conference thing at Kosen.”
“Oh,” said Ryo lamely. He wouldn’t see Osamu for three weeks and he didn’t even say goodbye properly...?
“I get back on Friday afternoon,” he continued quickly. “Why don’t you come over on Saturday?”
Toying with the cord on the phone, Ryo considered. “But I was just there yesterday, I don’t know if Dad will let me go out two weeks in a row.”
There was the edge of a whine to Osamu’s voice that he hadn’t heard before. “Come on, Ryo, I won’t see you for two weeks, three if you’re not here on Saturday, and the time difference will be a pain.”
“It’s only eight hours,” Ryo offered, distracted by the sudden use of his name. “Hang on, I’ll go ask Mom... Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good,” replied Osamu, and Ryo could almost hear the smirk. “Meet you at the station.”
The phone clicked. Osamu never did bother with goodbyes.
When Ryo stepped off the train at Tamachi Station, he was still half-surprised to see that the smile on Osamu’s face was warm and therefore genuine. “Well, hurry up,” Osamu said, still smiling, “we haven’t got all day.”
The walk to his apartment building was silent but comfortable, and in the elevator Osamu didn’t bat his hand away when he reached out to take his friend’s hand, only gave him a softened smirk as he laced their fingers together. Maybe he couldn’t quite come up with a name for this new stage in their relationship, but it was certainly a nice change from arguing.
Osamu unlocked and opened his front door with the ease of experience, and dryly announced, “He made it.”
“Oh, welcome, Ryo!” Mrs. Ichijouji called out from the kitchen. Ryo exchanged his sneakers for guest slippers. When he looked up again, Osamu and Ken’s mother was hovering over him with a tray. “Would you like some cookies? I’m trying out a new recipe.”
“Perhaps later,” Osamu said coolly, steering Ryo to his room, “there’s a big biology test when he gets back from Russia that he needs help studying for.”
Ken glanced up from the Playstation and pouted. “Oh, you two are going to be boring again, I wanted Ryo to help me with Tactics.”
“Well, it’s not my fault Ryo doesn’t understand the life cycle of salmon,” Osamu shrugged, before shooing Ryo inside the bedroom and closing the door.
“You make me sound like an idiot,” Ryo objected, moving to the center of the room.
Osamu merely snorted. “Please don’t make me answer that.”
Ryo ignored the veiled insult and answered with a kiss, which Osamu returned with a smirk into his mouth. For several warm and peaceful moments, they merely made up for three weeks apart. No doubt Osamu would laugh himself silly if he ever said so aloud, but Ryo had missed him during the week at the Kyoto Institute of Technology, and he was definitely going to miss him during the two weeks in Russia.
Eventually Osamu was the first to pull away, massaging the back of his neck. Ryo adopted his trademark smirk, throwing in his own touch of affection. “Midget. Want a break? We could go over salmon.”
Osamu stepped forward. Surprised by the sudden move, Ryo moved back. “I have no intention,” Osamu informed him, backing him up one more step with every word, “of studying salmon.” The back of Ryo’s leg hit the bunk bed, and Osamu smirked. “Sit down before you bump your head.”
Why could he never say ‘no’ to him? Eyes widening slightly at the undertones in Osamu’s voice, Ryo sat, and praised himself for not objecting when Osamu pushed him over and joined him on the bed.
When Ryo left the apartment later, he was no closer to passing the biology test than he was when he’d entered it.
It was amazing what you can find out on the Internet: Celebrities’ phone numbers, how to make a bomb, that your best friend is dead.
At first, Ryo decided half-heartedly that this was Osamu’s idea of a sick joke. He’d faked an article, hacked the Tokyo Shimbun website, and uploaded it. This was just his rather appalling idea of telling him, ‘you’d better not forget about me’, that was all.
Then he found video footage of the same announcement, complete with distraught parents and an unusually white Ken in the corner of the frame. Osamu wouldn’t go that far.
Tears filled his eyes, and for a moment he thought he might drown in them. He never did learn how to swim.
Tentomon said real men don’t cry, but when Ryo disconnected from his uncle’s dialup connection, his hand was shaking.
the second and final movement: Andante sostenuto: sing me an elegy
What: Digimon Adventure 02 fanfiction - short story
Rating: G
Words: 1395
Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a question. Osaryo. The first movement.
Notes: Written for ajora for the digimon secret_santamon Yuletide exchange 2007. This piece and the second part are named after the two movements of Saint-Saëns' Cello Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Opus 119.
Alternate link: Fanfiction.net
Sample: Osamu was being awfully quiet today...
Osamu was being awfully quiet today, Ryo thought. Even for Osamu. Ryo had dragged him out to Kamezuka Koen for his own good, declaring he needed a bit of fresh air, and he’d reluctantly complied, but had refused to have anything to do with the soccer ball Ken had brought along. Maybe Ryo was terrible at soccer, and most sports actually, but at least he was trying.
Maybe Osamu would be more responsive to him? “Ken, go practice your drooling or something for a few minutes, okay? I’m gonna talk to your brother the spoilsport for a moment.”
“It’s called dribbling, Ryo,” Ken informed him loftily, before running off to do so.
Ryo grinned and watched him for a moment before taking the opportunity to bug Osamu. Always a fun hobby. “Oi, party pooper.”
His friend lifted an eyebrow in response. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best opener. Ryo barged on regardless. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Osamu replied shortly, in that tone of voice that said the exact opposite.
Curious, Ryo tilted his head to the side. “Come on, you can’t be that bad at soccer. Not worse than me, anyway.”
“It’s not the soccer,” snapped Osamu. “It’s...”
He trailed off. But he’d explain eventually, Ryo knew, so he twiddled his thumbs patiently while waiting for Osamu to go on.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now,” Osamu said at length, “but I’m worried about the consequences.”
Ryo blinked. That sounded bad. “Something dangerous, you mean?”
Osamu hesitated, wrinkling his nose. “You could say that. Actually, no, not really. Well, sort of.”
Now Ryo was completely confused. Not a foreign feeling around Osamu, but this took the cake. “If it’s only sort of dangerous, why don’t you try it in a safe place?”
After a moment, Osamu gave him a slight nod. “This park seems safe enough, don’t you think?”
Ryo didn’t have time to voice his confusion before Osamu’s lips were on his. It took him a moment to realize that this was in fact both reality rather than fantasy and a rather pleasant experience, and to respond in turn, pulling him closer.
They stopped only when it started getting hard to breathe, but Ryo kept his arms around Osamu anyway, somewhat amazed when Osamu didn’t push him away. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time too.”
Osamu smiled.
Elsewhere in the house, the phone was ringing. Absorbed in trying to beat Dycedarg, Ryo ignored it.
His mother picked it up anyway, and he could vaguely hear the murmur of her voice going through perfunctory politeness, warm interest, and was that a correction? before she called out, “Ryo, it’s for you!”
“Hang on,” Ryo yelled, before watching the last of his party die a miserable death. “Chyort poberi!”
“I heard that,” Mom smirked as she passed him the phone.
“Sorry,” he offered, before putting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“When are you leaving?”
That was Osamu all over, not bothering to introduce himself and getting straight to business as always. Ryo tried not to smile, but it crept into his voice anyway. “Sunday. Three-thirty flight from Haneda; Dad doesn’t like taking the train for more than half an hour. I’ve told you this before.”
“I forgot,” retorted Osamu. A likely story. He was sure his... was ‘friend’ really the right word now? He was sure Osamu programmed it into his diary or something. For a moment, he was silent. “Damnit, I can’t come and see you off.”
“That’s okay, we’ll see each other before I go on Friday anyway.”
“No, I’m leaving on Monday, remember,” Osamu pointed out, “that conference thing at Kosen.”
“Oh,” said Ryo lamely. He wouldn’t see Osamu for three weeks and he didn’t even say goodbye properly...?
“I get back on Friday afternoon,” he continued quickly. “Why don’t you come over on Saturday?”
Toying with the cord on the phone, Ryo considered. “But I was just there yesterday, I don’t know if Dad will let me go out two weeks in a row.”
There was the edge of a whine to Osamu’s voice that he hadn’t heard before. “Come on, Ryo, I won’t see you for two weeks, three if you’re not here on Saturday, and the time difference will be a pain.”
“It’s only eight hours,” Ryo offered, distracted by the sudden use of his name. “Hang on, I’ll go ask Mom... Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good,” replied Osamu, and Ryo could almost hear the smirk. “Meet you at the station.”
The phone clicked. Osamu never did bother with goodbyes.
When Ryo stepped off the train at Tamachi Station, he was still half-surprised to see that the smile on Osamu’s face was warm and therefore genuine. “Well, hurry up,” Osamu said, still smiling, “we haven’t got all day.”
The walk to his apartment building was silent but comfortable, and in the elevator Osamu didn’t bat his hand away when he reached out to take his friend’s hand, only gave him a softened smirk as he laced their fingers together. Maybe he couldn’t quite come up with a name for this new stage in their relationship, but it was certainly a nice change from arguing.
Osamu unlocked and opened his front door with the ease of experience, and dryly announced, “He made it.”
“Oh, welcome, Ryo!” Mrs. Ichijouji called out from the kitchen. Ryo exchanged his sneakers for guest slippers. When he looked up again, Osamu and Ken’s mother was hovering over him with a tray. “Would you like some cookies? I’m trying out a new recipe.”
“Perhaps later,” Osamu said coolly, steering Ryo to his room, “there’s a big biology test when he gets back from Russia that he needs help studying for.”
Ken glanced up from the Playstation and pouted. “Oh, you two are going to be boring again, I wanted Ryo to help me with Tactics.”
“Well, it’s not my fault Ryo doesn’t understand the life cycle of salmon,” Osamu shrugged, before shooing Ryo inside the bedroom and closing the door.
“You make me sound like an idiot,” Ryo objected, moving to the center of the room.
Osamu merely snorted. “Please don’t make me answer that.”
Ryo ignored the veiled insult and answered with a kiss, which Osamu returned with a smirk into his mouth. For several warm and peaceful moments, they merely made up for three weeks apart. No doubt Osamu would laugh himself silly if he ever said so aloud, but Ryo had missed him during the week at the Kyoto Institute of Technology, and he was definitely going to miss him during the two weeks in Russia.
Eventually Osamu was the first to pull away, massaging the back of his neck. Ryo adopted his trademark smirk, throwing in his own touch of affection. “Midget. Want a break? We could go over salmon.”
Osamu stepped forward. Surprised by the sudden move, Ryo moved back. “I have no intention,” Osamu informed him, backing him up one more step with every word, “of studying salmon.” The back of Ryo’s leg hit the bunk bed, and Osamu smirked. “Sit down before you bump your head.”
Why could he never say ‘no’ to him? Eyes widening slightly at the undertones in Osamu’s voice, Ryo sat, and praised himself for not objecting when Osamu pushed him over and joined him on the bed.
When Ryo left the apartment later, he was no closer to passing the biology test than he was when he’d entered it.
It was amazing what you can find out on the Internet: Celebrities’ phone numbers, how to make a bomb, that your best friend is dead.
At first, Ryo decided half-heartedly that this was Osamu’s idea of a sick joke. He’d faked an article, hacked the Tokyo Shimbun website, and uploaded it. This was just his rather appalling idea of telling him, ‘you’d better not forget about me’, that was all.
Then he found video footage of the same announcement, complete with distraught parents and an unusually white Ken in the corner of the frame. Osamu wouldn’t go that far.
Tears filled his eyes, and for a moment he thought he might drown in them. He never did learn how to swim.
Tentomon said real men don’t cry, but when Ryo disconnected from his uncle’s dialup connection, his hand was shaking.
the second and final movement: Andante sostenuto: sing me an elegy