Genius moves by Ingrid
It is a couple thousand words and it is not much of a story in any sense, but it was good to write /something/ again. It doesn't go with any projects exactly, although it's connected to Ninja and Roommate, being about two of Ray's brothers. It is probably not something that is friendly to people who aren't familiar with the characters - Tonio was in a couple of Ray-centric Ninja and Roommate extra stories, Felice was in last year's "Flight of the Bumblebee" - although I think they're characterized fairly accurately for such a short story. Trying to get back in the swing of things more than anything else.
Man, I am so missing out on a brilliant marketing career.
The scream was pitched just loudly enough, and with the right amount of distress, that Tonio knew ignoring it would leave guilt gnawing at his stomach for the remainder of his visit. It was, however, straddling the line of concern so precisely that for several minutes he sat, nestled down deep in an arm chair, and waited for the screaming to stop. Or at least trail off.
It didn't.
As he set his book down on the nearest table -- a tiny, elegant thing barely big enough to hold the book and Tonio's empty coffee cup -- with his place carefully marked, he vowed that the next time both his parents and his idiot older brother conspired to be out of the house at the same time, he, too, would find an excuse to be elsewhere, even if he did enjoy the feeling of a Ray-free house. Let Valore deal with the dubious joy of being Eldest Sibling in Residence.
Tonio went downstairs. The screaming, which was really more of a sobbing, got louder, but retained a muffled quality. Tonio went further downstairs.
On moving back to Rome, Hiroki Fujimoto had marked the beginning of his new and significantly more impressive position by purchasing a house. The House, Tonio had always it imagined it for the brief time he'd lived there, although he now attributed a good portion of that hazy fondness to the fact that the bedroom had been his and his alone (except for during the trying school vacations of a certain repulsive older brother). The decorating attentions of a legion of Italian grandmothers, aunts, and cousins probably hadn't hurt, either. The House was tall and, if not wide, the expanse of gardens, the large swimming pool installed by a previous owner, and high old walls surrounding front- and backyards could excuse the absence of more generous housing proportions. Dating back to the 1900s, the House was an example of timelessly tasteful, durable, and understated architecture found only in the oldest and richest neighbourhoods of Italy. It was a breath of fresh air after the tiny house he could barely (thankfully) remember in New York, the draft and ugly house in Moscow, the just plain ugly house in Dublin, and the less said about it the better house in Ottawa. It was a delight to return to after months in his cramped room at the Conservatory -- as long as Ray wasn't there.
And within a week of moving in, Hiroki Fujimoto had hired the best men in the city to dig out a basement so that he could, eventually and at last, have his own dojo away from the dojo.
Soundproofing had not been taken into consideration.
Tonio slammed the door at the top of the basement stairs shut and stalked to the bottom, not caring who heard him. Which, judging by the heads turned towards him, was everyone but Ettore, who had his hands clamped over his ears, Cara's hands over those, and Sofia's hands over his eyes, and Felice, who probably couldn't hear anything at all over the sound of his own agonized sobbing.
Valore, prodigy and mater of unrufflable cool, was beginning to look ruffled, his arms crossed defensive over his chest. "Papa is going to be so disappointed in you when he comes home and sees what a fuss you've made over nothing. A ninja should be stoic." Valore's words were lofty and, despite addressing Felice, were directed at everyone in the room. There was a desperate note under them, trying to convince the girls and now Tonio that his interpretation of reality was correct. Valore stood a good distance from the little group around Felice, but putting together what had happened wasn't hard.
There were drops of blood splattered lightly on the floor and a more impressive stain had gone from Felice's nose, mingled with tears and mucus, dripped down his chin, and was not spreading across the white cotton of his gi. An idiot could have figured out what had happened, but Tonio asked anyway to see how much of Valore's foot could fit in the irritably set mouth.
"What the hell happened here?" Tonio fixed an angry stare on Valore, who tightened his lips and avoided making eye contact with Tonio. Valore might as well have shouted his guilt from the rooftop for all the world to hear and distributed fliers with detailed annotations explaining the incident.
It was Sofia who spoke, keeping her hands over Ettore's eyes the entire time. "Valore was sparring with Felice; he was leading training for Papa. Felice was acting like Felice. He got particularly Felice at one point and Valore punched him, without holding anything back." Sofia shot Valore a contemptuous look that Tonio found naggingly familiar. It was too old for her and just made Valore look more defensive and self-righteous.
Translation: Felice was being an obnoxious brat. Anyone would have been tempted to hit him, but anyone else would have had the self-control to resist, because it was only Felice.
Tonio pinched the bridge of his nose. Someone else should have been dealing with this. It wasn't his duty. He was supposed to be on vacation, for God's sake. But he could hardly leave it in Valore's hands. So, first things first. "Sofia, take Ettore upstairs. He doesn't need to see any of this. Someone should have taken him up immediately after Felice was attacked."
Sofia didn't look guilty. Neither did Cara. After a second of hesitation, neither bothered trying to play the traditional Fujimoto blame game. It wouldn't be right, not where Ettore was concerned. Cara turned Ettore around and Sofia took her hands form his eyes so she could hold his hand and lead him upstairs. Ettore still had one hand clasped obediently over his ear.
One less thing to worry about. Tonio focussed on Felice, who was still crying, Jesus. That the hyperactive brat had such impressive lung capacity was something that had never occurred to Tonio. What a waste. He mustered the deepest voice he could and grabbed Felice's chin. "Stop."
Felice stopped, the wails trailing off into bubbly, uncertain hiccups. The crying didn't stop, but at least it was silent crying.
"All that fuss over a black eye," Valore said.
Tonio ignored him and tilted Felice's wet, sticky face upwards so he could get a better look at the damage.
It was a mess. Felice's nose was bleeding, but that was incidental compared to the so-called black eye. The skin around Felice's eye was swelling alarmingly in a great puffy red swathe going from above his eyebrow, out towards the bridge of his nose on one side and his temple on the other, and down his cheek. It wasn't quite covering half his face, but it was close. There were spots that had already gone from dark red to a deep, ugly purple.
And the white of that eye was solid red with blood.
God.
"Someone needs to clean up the mess on the floor." It was all Tonio was going to say to Valore. It wasn't his job to chastise his brother for feats of incredible stupidity. He let go of Felice's chin and Felice began rubbing his nose with the back of his wrists, smearing mucus and blood on the gi cuffs. "Cara, see if you can get in contact with Mamma or Papa. Tell them what happened. Exactly." Out of the corner of his eye, Tonio could see Valore wince. Good. "If you can't get Mamma or Papa, try and call Ray. He's better than nothing."
"And what will you be doing during all this?" Cara asked, complete with adolescent sarcasm. The feeling of panic caused by Felice's wailing seemed to be fading and normal thinking was returning, complete with normal, unhelpful attitudes.
Tonio sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was already regretting his choice of actions. "I'm going to take Felice to the hospital." He glanced down at his little brother, trying to find the brotherly concern that should have been somewhere in his heart at the sight of Felice's plight.
Felice was using the tail of Toni's shirt, 100% silk and tugged out of Tonio's pants, to stop the flow of blood from his nose.
***
The trip to the hospital was delayed only by the need to put together an icepack for Felice's face -- not a complicated task in the Fujimoto household -- and to flag down a cab. That wasn't difficult, either; Tonio had already developed cab hailing into an art form. After that, the only challenge was preventing Felice from crying again.
Tonio had to slap his hand over the icepack, too; Felice kept fidgeting with it, sliding it around his face and away from the targeted swollen area.
"Stop it," Tonio snapped.
A warning sniffling sound came from somewhere behind the dried mucus and blood that Tonio hadn't bothered to clean off Felice's face.
Tonio grimaced and looked out the window. "Just try to keep still and quiet until we're at the hospital." Where Tonio would be able to hand him off to the professionals.
A row of houses went by before Felice asked, "Will Mamma and Papa come?"
Reluctantly, Tonio looked back at his brother. "Cara's calling them. They'll come as soon as they know."
"I've never been to a hospital before."
And what a miracle that was. "It's nothing to worry about. It's just a really big doctor's office."
Felice processed this in merciful silence until the hospital came into view. He grabbed for Tonio's hand, then. Tonio tolerated the contact with minimal cringing.
"Will Papa be angry?" Felice asked as they got out of the cab. The nervousness and uncertainty in his voice was very un-Felice.
Tonio shook his hand free long enough to find his wallet and pay for the ride, but as soon as the transaction was done, Felice took hold of him again. Tonio looked down at the mop of unruly black curls and let out a sigh. "Not at you."
***
Foisting Felice on nurses and doctors was done with ease, a sotto voice comment about who Felice's parents were -- Tonio couldn't tell if it was the mention of Papa's position or Mamma's name that got a prompt response -- and a lie about Felice's karate classes that was gladly swallowed because Tonio could deliver it without veering away from the truth very much.
Actually escaping Felice proved to be another matter entirely. Unsure as to how it had happened, Tonio found himself standing by Felice while the doctor examined Felice's face, probing the swelling with long fingers. He was stuck with the technician, who tried to flirt with him, while Felice's face got X-rayed. In the end, he was sitting in the tiny, uncomfortable plastic chair by Felice's bed in a tiny hospital room. Felice was silent with confusion as he tried to process what the doctor had said. Tonio hoped the slow trickling of thoughts through Felice's easily distracted brain would keep him occupied long enough for the drugs to take effect.
"My face is broken," Felice said. Luck was not with Tonio that afternoon.
"One of the bones in your face is broken. There's a difference," said Tonio. He adjusted his position in the tiny chair as much as he could while still keeping all his limbs close together and minimizing contact with the things in the room. Something else seemed to be required in the conversation. After a second, he asked, "Does it hurt?"
"A little," said Felice, frowning with his mouth and one eyebrow. "Not as much as before."
"That's good," said Tonio, moving his gaze around the room. There was a television, but no magazines, not even horribly out-dated ones. He wondered if he should turn the television on. Anything that distracted Felice enough to shut him up would probably drive Tonio mad. He left it off.
"Will Val get in trouble?" Felice asked. He was doing a decent job of distracting himself, although Tonio could have preferred him keeping his musings to himself.
Especially when they were stupid questions. "Yes."
"Good," said Felice, with such sincere childish vindictiveness that Tonio couldn't help smiling thinly. Felice returned a crooked smile of his own. "You're not as evil and boring as you were when you lived at home, you know."
Tonio rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Felice."
"I'm glad you came home for a bit."
"You're just glad I was here, because if I weren't, you'd have had to wait for Ray to come home from wherever he went to. And if he'd taken you to the hospital, he'd never have shut up and you'd have an earache along with everything else."
Felice grinned, a wobbly, lopsided version of the usual blatant cheekiness.
"Go to sleep," Tonio said, taking a stern tone that made the words less of a suggestion and more of an order.
Eventually, Felice did, and Tonio could almost relax.
Sometime after that, after too damn long, their parents arrived.
Mamma was worried, but quietly so when she saw Felice was asleep. She ousted Tonio from his chair with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and a pat on Toni's hand, commending him for being such a good boy and big brother. Papa was worried, too, but his face was grim behind the worry. If Valore hadn't been given an earful and a lifetime's worth of punishment, it was only parental concern that delayed his fate.
Tonio excused himself.
Instead of hailing a cab or walking home, Tonio found himself sitting in a waiting room chair, thumbing through a stack of magazines until he found a fashion magazine that had been new when Tonio lived in Canada. It would be terrible, but in a way that might produce bitter amusement from Tonio while he waited for his parents to return, possibly with a partially sedated Felice. He wasn't eager to return home, anyway.
Ray was probably there.
Man, I am so missing out on a brilliant marketing career.
The scream was pitched just loudly enough, and with the right amount of distress, that Tonio knew ignoring it would leave guilt gnawing at his stomach for the remainder of his visit. It was, however, straddling the line of concern so precisely that for several minutes he sat, nestled down deep in an arm chair, and waited for the screaming to stop. Or at least trail off.
It didn't.
As he set his book down on the nearest table -- a tiny, elegant thing barely big enough to hold the book and Tonio's empty coffee cup -- with his place carefully marked, he vowed that the next time both his parents and his idiot older brother conspired to be out of the house at the same time, he, too, would find an excuse to be elsewhere, even if he did enjoy the feeling of a Ray-free house. Let Valore deal with the dubious joy of being Eldest Sibling in Residence.
Tonio went downstairs. The screaming, which was really more of a sobbing, got louder, but retained a muffled quality. Tonio went further downstairs.
On moving back to Rome, Hiroki Fujimoto had marked the beginning of his new and significantly more impressive position by purchasing a house. The House, Tonio had always it imagined it for the brief time he'd lived there, although he now attributed a good portion of that hazy fondness to the fact that the bedroom had been his and his alone (except for during the trying school vacations of a certain repulsive older brother). The decorating attentions of a legion of Italian grandmothers, aunts, and cousins probably hadn't hurt, either. The House was tall and, if not wide, the expanse of gardens, the large swimming pool installed by a previous owner, and high old walls surrounding front- and backyards could excuse the absence of more generous housing proportions. Dating back to the 1900s, the House was an example of timelessly tasteful, durable, and understated architecture found only in the oldest and richest neighbourhoods of Italy. It was a breath of fresh air after the tiny house he could barely (thankfully) remember in New York, the draft and ugly house in Moscow, the just plain ugly house in Dublin, and the less said about it the better house in Ottawa. It was a delight to return to after months in his cramped room at the Conservatory -- as long as Ray wasn't there.
And within a week of moving in, Hiroki Fujimoto had hired the best men in the city to dig out a basement so that he could, eventually and at last, have his own dojo away from the dojo.
Soundproofing had not been taken into consideration.
Tonio slammed the door at the top of the basement stairs shut and stalked to the bottom, not caring who heard him. Which, judging by the heads turned towards him, was everyone but Ettore, who had his hands clamped over his ears, Cara's hands over those, and Sofia's hands over his eyes, and Felice, who probably couldn't hear anything at all over the sound of his own agonized sobbing.
Valore, prodigy and mater of unrufflable cool, was beginning to look ruffled, his arms crossed defensive over his chest. "Papa is going to be so disappointed in you when he comes home and sees what a fuss you've made over nothing. A ninja should be stoic." Valore's words were lofty and, despite addressing Felice, were directed at everyone in the room. There was a desperate note under them, trying to convince the girls and now Tonio that his interpretation of reality was correct. Valore stood a good distance from the little group around Felice, but putting together what had happened wasn't hard.
There were drops of blood splattered lightly on the floor and a more impressive stain had gone from Felice's nose, mingled with tears and mucus, dripped down his chin, and was not spreading across the white cotton of his gi. An idiot could have figured out what had happened, but Tonio asked anyway to see how much of Valore's foot could fit in the irritably set mouth.
"What the hell happened here?" Tonio fixed an angry stare on Valore, who tightened his lips and avoided making eye contact with Tonio. Valore might as well have shouted his guilt from the rooftop for all the world to hear and distributed fliers with detailed annotations explaining the incident.
It was Sofia who spoke, keeping her hands over Ettore's eyes the entire time. "Valore was sparring with Felice; he was leading training for Papa. Felice was acting like Felice. He got particularly Felice at one point and Valore punched him, without holding anything back." Sofia shot Valore a contemptuous look that Tonio found naggingly familiar. It was too old for her and just made Valore look more defensive and self-righteous.
Translation: Felice was being an obnoxious brat. Anyone would have been tempted to hit him, but anyone else would have had the self-control to resist, because it was only Felice.
Tonio pinched the bridge of his nose. Someone else should have been dealing with this. It wasn't his duty. He was supposed to be on vacation, for God's sake. But he could hardly leave it in Valore's hands. So, first things first. "Sofia, take Ettore upstairs. He doesn't need to see any of this. Someone should have taken him up immediately after Felice was attacked."
Sofia didn't look guilty. Neither did Cara. After a second of hesitation, neither bothered trying to play the traditional Fujimoto blame game. It wouldn't be right, not where Ettore was concerned. Cara turned Ettore around and Sofia took her hands form his eyes so she could hold his hand and lead him upstairs. Ettore still had one hand clasped obediently over his ear.
One less thing to worry about. Tonio focussed on Felice, who was still crying, Jesus. That the hyperactive brat had such impressive lung capacity was something that had never occurred to Tonio. What a waste. He mustered the deepest voice he could and grabbed Felice's chin. "Stop."
Felice stopped, the wails trailing off into bubbly, uncertain hiccups. The crying didn't stop, but at least it was silent crying.
"All that fuss over a black eye," Valore said.
Tonio ignored him and tilted Felice's wet, sticky face upwards so he could get a better look at the damage.
It was a mess. Felice's nose was bleeding, but that was incidental compared to the so-called black eye. The skin around Felice's eye was swelling alarmingly in a great puffy red swathe going from above his eyebrow, out towards the bridge of his nose on one side and his temple on the other, and down his cheek. It wasn't quite covering half his face, but it was close. There were spots that had already gone from dark red to a deep, ugly purple.
And the white of that eye was solid red with blood.
God.
"Someone needs to clean up the mess on the floor." It was all Tonio was going to say to Valore. It wasn't his job to chastise his brother for feats of incredible stupidity. He let go of Felice's chin and Felice began rubbing his nose with the back of his wrists, smearing mucus and blood on the gi cuffs. "Cara, see if you can get in contact with Mamma or Papa. Tell them what happened. Exactly." Out of the corner of his eye, Tonio could see Valore wince. Good. "If you can't get Mamma or Papa, try and call Ray. He's better than nothing."
"And what will you be doing during all this?" Cara asked, complete with adolescent sarcasm. The feeling of panic caused by Felice's wailing seemed to be fading and normal thinking was returning, complete with normal, unhelpful attitudes.
Tonio sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was already regretting his choice of actions. "I'm going to take Felice to the hospital." He glanced down at his little brother, trying to find the brotherly concern that should have been somewhere in his heart at the sight of Felice's plight.
Felice was using the tail of Toni's shirt, 100% silk and tugged out of Tonio's pants, to stop the flow of blood from his nose.
***
The trip to the hospital was delayed only by the need to put together an icepack for Felice's face -- not a complicated task in the Fujimoto household -- and to flag down a cab. That wasn't difficult, either; Tonio had already developed cab hailing into an art form. After that, the only challenge was preventing Felice from crying again.
Tonio had to slap his hand over the icepack, too; Felice kept fidgeting with it, sliding it around his face and away from the targeted swollen area.
"Stop it," Tonio snapped.
A warning sniffling sound came from somewhere behind the dried mucus and blood that Tonio hadn't bothered to clean off Felice's face.
Tonio grimaced and looked out the window. "Just try to keep still and quiet until we're at the hospital." Where Tonio would be able to hand him off to the professionals.
A row of houses went by before Felice asked, "Will Mamma and Papa come?"
Reluctantly, Tonio looked back at his brother. "Cara's calling them. They'll come as soon as they know."
"I've never been to a hospital before."
And what a miracle that was. "It's nothing to worry about. It's just a really big doctor's office."
Felice processed this in merciful silence until the hospital came into view. He grabbed for Tonio's hand, then. Tonio tolerated the contact with minimal cringing.
"Will Papa be angry?" Felice asked as they got out of the cab. The nervousness and uncertainty in his voice was very un-Felice.
Tonio shook his hand free long enough to find his wallet and pay for the ride, but as soon as the transaction was done, Felice took hold of him again. Tonio looked down at the mop of unruly black curls and let out a sigh. "Not at you."
***
Foisting Felice on nurses and doctors was done with ease, a sotto voice comment about who Felice's parents were -- Tonio couldn't tell if it was the mention of Papa's position or Mamma's name that got a prompt response -- and a lie about Felice's karate classes that was gladly swallowed because Tonio could deliver it without veering away from the truth very much.
Actually escaping Felice proved to be another matter entirely. Unsure as to how it had happened, Tonio found himself standing by Felice while the doctor examined Felice's face, probing the swelling with long fingers. He was stuck with the technician, who tried to flirt with him, while Felice's face got X-rayed. In the end, he was sitting in the tiny, uncomfortable plastic chair by Felice's bed in a tiny hospital room. Felice was silent with confusion as he tried to process what the doctor had said. Tonio hoped the slow trickling of thoughts through Felice's easily distracted brain would keep him occupied long enough for the drugs to take effect.
"My face is broken," Felice said. Luck was not with Tonio that afternoon.
"One of the bones in your face is broken. There's a difference," said Tonio. He adjusted his position in the tiny chair as much as he could while still keeping all his limbs close together and minimizing contact with the things in the room. Something else seemed to be required in the conversation. After a second, he asked, "Does it hurt?"
"A little," said Felice, frowning with his mouth and one eyebrow. "Not as much as before."
"That's good," said Tonio, moving his gaze around the room. There was a television, but no magazines, not even horribly out-dated ones. He wondered if he should turn the television on. Anything that distracted Felice enough to shut him up would probably drive Tonio mad. He left it off.
"Will Val get in trouble?" Felice asked. He was doing a decent job of distracting himself, although Tonio could have preferred him keeping his musings to himself.
Especially when they were stupid questions. "Yes."
"Good," said Felice, with such sincere childish vindictiveness that Tonio couldn't help smiling thinly. Felice returned a crooked smile of his own. "You're not as evil and boring as you were when you lived at home, you know."
Tonio rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Felice."
"I'm glad you came home for a bit."
"You're just glad I was here, because if I weren't, you'd have had to wait for Ray to come home from wherever he went to. And if he'd taken you to the hospital, he'd never have shut up and you'd have an earache along with everything else."
Felice grinned, a wobbly, lopsided version of the usual blatant cheekiness.
"Go to sleep," Tonio said, taking a stern tone that made the words less of a suggestion and more of an order.
Eventually, Felice did, and Tonio could almost relax.
Sometime after that, after too damn long, their parents arrived.
Mamma was worried, but quietly so when she saw Felice was asleep. She ousted Tonio from his chair with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and a pat on Toni's hand, commending him for being such a good boy and big brother. Papa was worried, too, but his face was grim behind the worry. If Valore hadn't been given an earful and a lifetime's worth of punishment, it was only parental concern that delayed his fate.
Tonio excused himself.
Instead of hailing a cab or walking home, Tonio found himself sitting in a waiting room chair, thumbing through a stack of magazines until he found a fashion magazine that had been new when Tonio lived in Canada. It would be terrible, but in a way that might produce bitter amusement from Tonio while he waited for his parents to return, possibly with a partially sedated Felice. He wasn't eager to return home, anyway.
Ray was probably there.