Fics: 2 drabbles, for Nodame Cantabile & for Halcyon's
After that Nodaki crack fic and that SasuSaku smut fic, it's time for something more wholesome.
31_days drabbles:
1. The Rivalry, Introductory Notes
The childhood rivalry between Sean Savara and Ebony Drynwyn was not only infamous, but also notoriously well-documented. The fierce competition had come to an abrupt hiatus after the Larsang incident, wherein the two were caught roaming the unstable island that used to be the Hermit Sagala's home, with even the crown prince of Kentrona needing to personally fetch them, tails between their legs. It ended with a win on Ebony's side, putting the overall score to a tie.
But nobody outside the immediate Drynwyn family knew about their contest. As far as the Lethian people were concerned, Sean Savara remained a step ahead of the younger girl, as ever he did the entirety of the game. Among the more seasoned members of the Vellushavyre, it was comical entertainment. Ebony had never been called prodigious and her health had never been quite at optimum. Her fierce determination to excel and beat her rival, endeared her to the hard-bitten warriors of Kentrona, particularly since everybody knew she would never beat Lord Savara in harnessing the Mandate. Well, Ebony knew what everybody thought. She knew as well as they did that Sean Savara could very well have been the fourth-borne child of Aldrich and Psyche Drynwyn. He could very well have been the Fourth Pillar, not the weak and sickly girl King Arawn had to desperately coax from the clutches of stillbirth fifteen years ago. She would never be able to defeat the sacred image of the older boy in the minds of her people.
One thing, the only thing, she could do was to try very hardest. She could still be Ebony Drynwyn, not the shadow of Sean Savara, not the replacement of the Fourth that wasn't expected to be born. She was the Fourth.
Four years ago, her punishment for trying too hard had been banishment. That was when she first came to the world her mother had originally hailed from, the diminished realm of Wiro, she called it in her mind. Now, she was no longer a child and she understood better the desperation that demanded she keep up with Sean Savara at all costs, that orphaned boy picked up during one of King Arawn's random expeditions. She had learned a lot in her sojourn in the human world, but that learning represented what she didn't learn while training among the Velluvashyre, learning which Sean Savara most definitely benefited from.
There was no time to lose then, no time to gawk at the eerie sight of the Lethian Outposts. Sean Savara made no indication he had detected their stalker yet. This was her chance then, her chance to prove that she was the child of Alrdich and Psyche, not the semi-adopted, almost Drynwyn, Sean Savara of some extinct faerie realm.
Such were here thoughts while sneaking away as her so-called guardian's attention was occupied by the patrolmen's report. She was going to bring down that Class 4 aberration herself.
She was going to prove herself worthy of her name, and the night of her homecoming was a good a night as any to do so.
~12:16 010308
/ 2007 December 3 / losing streak
The Halcyon's Mandate (in-story) / Ebony on Sean / Rated PG / Word count:
2.
The Sleeper
Chiaki Shinichi took a few minutes to work his jaw loose, before doing the same to his temper.
"What the hell are you wearing?" he demanded.
Really, the woman was impossible. It's been months since they've been in the same room for longer than a couple of hours. Their three young children were all with his mother, off for a seaside romp in Southern France. Meanwhile, his wife, who had been living off a suitcase for the last six weeks, didn't even have the forethought of attiring herself in anyway whatsoever that indicated she really missed her husband as fervently as she proclaimed she did.
(Then again, whoever said Nodame and "forethought" belonged in the same sentence?)
"Mukya?" The nonsensical expression was puzzled. "What's wrong with it?"
What was right with it? It was a bulky, one-piece thing that seemed to have neither a beginning nor an ending. It was a hot pink bodysuit of sorts, flooded with toxic green ducks that reminded him of a freakishly bad foie gras he once had to endure during a socialite gathering he had been forced to attend (which she had later thrown up on him). She was blinding, in a decidedly not pleasant way.
"You don't like it, anata?" She sounded forlorn, like an abandoned child.
"What's there to like?" he retorted. It was cheap, tasteless, and inconvenient. He wanted to tear it off her and burn it. "Why are you wearing that of all things? And, anyway, what is that?"
"I got it at a flea market in Florida," she said brightly. "I saw it and immediately thought of you! Besides, it was three for twenty dollars----quite a bargain, they told me. I've also ran out funds at that point, what with all the stuff I got for the three eggs in Disney World. Anata, we must fly the eggs there. It'll be a crime to just allow their childhood to fritter by without first going through Mickey Mouse!"
"First of all, I'm not going on a plane for some giant rodent---and isn't there a Disney in both Japan and France? More importantly, what on earth made you associate me with that hideous piece of rag?"
Nodame paused, tittered, and then put both hands to her face as if to protect her modesty. "I can't tell you, anata," she said. "I really can't."
He glanced at her suspiciously. "What sort of weird fantasy is running through your head right now?"
Ordinarily, he'd demand she keep it to herself. Right now, he was frustrated enough to try to find some rational explanation for her action. (Not to say, her actions were always meaningless. She did everything for a reason, but it wasn't always rational for both of them, or for the rest of the human world, for that matter.)
"Not fantasy," she corrected. "Reminiscence, more like it."
"Reminiscence?"
"Yes, mukya, reminiscence! It must be the sign of Eld coming."
Chiaki, though not quite mollified, was somehow curious. "Eld? Reminiscence? What spurred this on?"
"Remember when you were in Brussels, and I was here keeping the Nest? That time we were talking about Seiko-mama's plans to take the kids for vacation in your family's summer villa? You called back to change plans, because you said you wanted the two of us to stay home for a few days before following them."
"Yes, yes. Neither of us has really been home enough to relax. You agreed with me."
"Uh-huh. And then you said it'll be like old times and-and---Mukya!" She smothered her girlish giggles on her mittenned hands.
"I don't remember that!" he protested, cheeks reddening in spite of himself. He must have been slightly tipsy then, he figured.
"I realize you were probably drinking away your guilt that night---Miyako's and Shinobu's birthdays, remember? You were probably only babbling stuff, but actually, I've been wondering what you meant by it."
A couple of months ago then, he recalled, when his train was delayed and he wasn't able to reach home in time. Miyako had been born a few minutes before midnight, while Shinobu came four hours later, so they didn't technically share the same birthday. Regardless, he had been celebrating for both their fifth birthdays that night, but he wasn't that far gone yet, when he called home a third time that evening. He couldn't have said that, could he? With no other choice but to go forward, he flipped the question back to his wife. "What do you think I meant by it?" he asked.
"I wasn't sure, actually. There's too many possible meanings to it. Do you mean the old days before the Eggs came? Or the old days when I was in the Conservatoire? Or even older, the ones back in Momogaoka? What do you think?"
"The ones older than any of those."
"Gyabo. Nodame wasn't there yet."
"Anyway, what was with that excited-squeal thing? Sounds fishy to me."
"Oh, I was thinking about how you'd cook for me or bathe me---"
"I didn't bathe you then and I still cook for you, nowadays," he pointed out with a frown.
"Or how we'd study together---"
"I studied; you were usually being a nuisance."
"Or how you taught me and helped me with a piece for hours at a time--"
"Or tried to."
"Or lorded over my playing and told me how you want things to go even when I wasn't asking your opinion."
". .. lorded over, indeed."
"Or how we'd cuddle under the kotatsu some cold winter nights or take long, wandering walks. . . among other things." She flopped down on the carpeted floor and began playing with his bare feet. "You took good care of me those days, didn't you, Shinichi? Even though you were grumpy and grudging about it--"
"Hey!" he protested again, this time a little more violently. "I wasn't grudging."
"Grumpy and grudging and mean," she barreled on blithely. "And it took us some time to both grow up, didn't it?"
"Yes," he acquiesced with a small smile. Both of them. "It did." He beckoned for her to sit with him on the couch, and she eagerly jumped to the space beside him.
"Nowadays, Nodame takes good care of both anata and their the three eggs. In between, she's a well-liked pianist, who's completely en face with music. It's kinda like giving birth each time, you know? Fertilized with music, my results have been pretty fecund, I think."
Well-liked was an understatement. Noda Megumi was known to have worshipers, cultists, even. She snuggled against him comfortably, puppy-like, and he wondered what her legions would make of such a scene.
"I really was a baby, back then, compared to now, wasn't I?"
He nodded. "What about me?"
"Hmm. . ." Her hair smelled faintly of apples. She must have bathed recently. "A brat. Not quite a baby, but definitely a brat."
"A brat," he intoned levelly.
"A spoiled brat," she amended with flourish. "Aren't you proud of us, senpai?"
Senpai, huh? It's been a while since she called him that. Mostly it was anata or papa bird. If she felt like playing Yamato Nadeshiko (or if she was somehow pissed), she'd call him Chiaki-san.
"Aren't you?" she prompted again, her breath hot against his ear.
". . . of course, I am," he muttered. "At least, you don't burn the stuff I stockpile-cook when you reheat it. Not anymore, anyway. So is this why you're wearing this sleeper thing? Baby cosplay of some sort?"
"I wanted you to play a pederast---G-gyabo! Yes, yes, it was c-comfortable and made me feel like a b-baby. Now, let go off my windpipe, please. It's too early f-for a tie-me-up romp."
Hastily, he relinquished her neck, curling away from her and refocusing his attention back to the score he had been perusing.
"Now, senpai," she coaxed, burrowing herself back to his arms. "Tell me the real reason you hate Nodame's attire."
He was determined not to give her the satisfaction of an answer.
"I'll tickle it out of you," she threatened.
". . ."
"You know I'll win."
He muttered something barely intelligible.
"What did you say, anata? Buttons?"
"Oh, shut up."
Nodame shook with muted hilarity. "Don't worry, senpai," she assured him. "Nodame will help you with that. Just like old times, huh?"
Now, that, he decided was a little below the belt. Chiaki Shinichi didn't bother to argue back. He was too old for street fights, maybe, but certainly not for what they both wanted.
"How does Kyo say it again?" he asked instead, his hands finally abandoning the score for something more yielding. (Their three-year-old had decided he was an aspiring rap artist that month.) "Bring it?"
"Oh, I will."
011308 1705
/ January 13 / the best article in the market
Nodame Cantabile / Nodame, Chiaki / Rated PG
31_days drabbles:
1. The Rivalry, Introductory Notes
The childhood rivalry between Sean Savara and Ebony Drynwyn was not only infamous, but also notoriously well-documented. The fierce competition had come to an abrupt hiatus after the Larsang incident, wherein the two were caught roaming the unstable island that used to be the Hermit Sagala's home, with even the crown prince of Kentrona needing to personally fetch them, tails between their legs. It ended with a win on Ebony's side, putting the overall score to a tie.
But nobody outside the immediate Drynwyn family knew about their contest. As far as the Lethian people were concerned, Sean Savara remained a step ahead of the younger girl, as ever he did the entirety of the game. Among the more seasoned members of the Vellushavyre, it was comical entertainment. Ebony had never been called prodigious and her health had never been quite at optimum. Her fierce determination to excel and beat her rival, endeared her to the hard-bitten warriors of Kentrona, particularly since everybody knew she would never beat Lord Savara in harnessing the Mandate. Well, Ebony knew what everybody thought. She knew as well as they did that Sean Savara could very well have been the fourth-borne child of Aldrich and Psyche Drynwyn. He could very well have been the Fourth Pillar, not the weak and sickly girl King Arawn had to desperately coax from the clutches of stillbirth fifteen years ago. She would never be able to defeat the sacred image of the older boy in the minds of her people.
One thing, the only thing, she could do was to try very hardest. She could still be Ebony Drynwyn, not the shadow of Sean Savara, not the replacement of the Fourth that wasn't expected to be born. She was the Fourth.
Four years ago, her punishment for trying too hard had been banishment. That was when she first came to the world her mother had originally hailed from, the diminished realm of Wiro, she called it in her mind. Now, she was no longer a child and she understood better the desperation that demanded she keep up with Sean Savara at all costs, that orphaned boy picked up during one of King Arawn's random expeditions. She had learned a lot in her sojourn in the human world, but that learning represented what she didn't learn while training among the Velluvashyre, learning which Sean Savara most definitely benefited from.
There was no time to lose then, no time to gawk at the eerie sight of the Lethian Outposts. Sean Savara made no indication he had detected their stalker yet. This was her chance then, her chance to prove that she was the child of Alrdich and Psyche, not the semi-adopted, almost Drynwyn, Sean Savara of some extinct faerie realm.
Such were here thoughts while sneaking away as her so-called guardian's attention was occupied by the patrolmen's report. She was going to bring down that Class 4 aberration herself.
She was going to prove herself worthy of her name, and the night of her homecoming was a good a night as any to do so.
~12:16 010308
/ 2007 December 3 / losing streak
The Halcyon's Mandate (in-story) / Ebony on Sean / Rated PG / Word count:
2.
The Sleeper
Chiaki Shinichi took a few minutes to work his jaw loose, before doing the same to his temper.
"What the hell are you wearing?" he demanded.
Really, the woman was impossible. It's been months since they've been in the same room for longer than a couple of hours. Their three young children were all with his mother, off for a seaside romp in Southern France. Meanwhile, his wife, who had been living off a suitcase for the last six weeks, didn't even have the forethought of attiring herself in anyway whatsoever that indicated she really missed her husband as fervently as she proclaimed she did.
(Then again, whoever said Nodame and "forethought" belonged in the same sentence?)
"Mukya?" The nonsensical expression was puzzled. "What's wrong with it?"
What was right with it? It was a bulky, one-piece thing that seemed to have neither a beginning nor an ending. It was a hot pink bodysuit of sorts, flooded with toxic green ducks that reminded him of a freakishly bad foie gras he once had to endure during a socialite gathering he had been forced to attend (which she had later thrown up on him). She was blinding, in a decidedly not pleasant way.
"You don't like it, anata?" She sounded forlorn, like an abandoned child.
"What's there to like?" he retorted. It was cheap, tasteless, and inconvenient. He wanted to tear it off her and burn it. "Why are you wearing that of all things? And, anyway, what is that?"
"I got it at a flea market in Florida," she said brightly. "I saw it and immediately thought of you! Besides, it was three for twenty dollars----quite a bargain, they told me. I've also ran out funds at that point, what with all the stuff I got for the three eggs in Disney World. Anata, we must fly the eggs there. It'll be a crime to just allow their childhood to fritter by without first going through Mickey Mouse!"
"First of all, I'm not going on a plane for some giant rodent---and isn't there a Disney in both Japan and France? More importantly, what on earth made you associate me with that hideous piece of rag?"
Nodame paused, tittered, and then put both hands to her face as if to protect her modesty. "I can't tell you, anata," she said. "I really can't."
He glanced at her suspiciously. "What sort of weird fantasy is running through your head right now?"
Ordinarily, he'd demand she keep it to herself. Right now, he was frustrated enough to try to find some rational explanation for her action. (Not to say, her actions were always meaningless. She did everything for a reason, but it wasn't always rational for both of them, or for the rest of the human world, for that matter.)
"Not fantasy," she corrected. "Reminiscence, more like it."
"Reminiscence?"
"Yes, mukya, reminiscence! It must be the sign of Eld coming."
Chiaki, though not quite mollified, was somehow curious. "Eld? Reminiscence? What spurred this on?"
"Remember when you were in Brussels, and I was here keeping the Nest? That time we were talking about Seiko-mama's plans to take the kids for vacation in your family's summer villa? You called back to change plans, because you said you wanted the two of us to stay home for a few days before following them."
"Yes, yes. Neither of us has really been home enough to relax. You agreed with me."
"Uh-huh. And then you said it'll be like old times and-and---Mukya!" She smothered her girlish giggles on her mittenned hands.
"I don't remember that!" he protested, cheeks reddening in spite of himself. He must have been slightly tipsy then, he figured.
"I realize you were probably drinking away your guilt that night---Miyako's and Shinobu's birthdays, remember? You were probably only babbling stuff, but actually, I've been wondering what you meant by it."
A couple of months ago then, he recalled, when his train was delayed and he wasn't able to reach home in time. Miyako had been born a few minutes before midnight, while Shinobu came four hours later, so they didn't technically share the same birthday. Regardless, he had been celebrating for both their fifth birthdays that night, but he wasn't that far gone yet, when he called home a third time that evening. He couldn't have said that, could he? With no other choice but to go forward, he flipped the question back to his wife. "What do you think I meant by it?" he asked.
"I wasn't sure, actually. There's too many possible meanings to it. Do you mean the old days before the Eggs came? Or the old days when I was in the Conservatoire? Or even older, the ones back in Momogaoka? What do you think?"
"The ones older than any of those."
"Gyabo. Nodame wasn't there yet."
"Anyway, what was with that excited-squeal thing? Sounds fishy to me."
"Oh, I was thinking about how you'd cook for me or bathe me---"
"I didn't bathe you then and I still cook for you, nowadays," he pointed out with a frown.
"Or how we'd study together---"
"I studied; you were usually being a nuisance."
"Or how you taught me and helped me with a piece for hours at a time--"
"Or tried to."
"Or lorded over my playing and told me how you want things to go even when I wasn't asking your opinion."
". .. lorded over, indeed."
"Or how we'd cuddle under the kotatsu some cold winter nights or take long, wandering walks. . . among other things." She flopped down on the carpeted floor and began playing with his bare feet. "You took good care of me those days, didn't you, Shinichi? Even though you were grumpy and grudging about it--"
"Hey!" he protested again, this time a little more violently. "I wasn't grudging."
"Grumpy and grudging and mean," she barreled on blithely. "And it took us some time to both grow up, didn't it?"
"Yes," he acquiesced with a small smile. Both of them. "It did." He beckoned for her to sit with him on the couch, and she eagerly jumped to the space beside him.
"Nowadays, Nodame takes good care of both anata and their the three eggs. In between, she's a well-liked pianist, who's completely en face with music. It's kinda like giving birth each time, you know? Fertilized with music, my results have been pretty fecund, I think."
Well-liked was an understatement. Noda Megumi was known to have worshipers, cultists, even. She snuggled against him comfortably, puppy-like, and he wondered what her legions would make of such a scene.
"I really was a baby, back then, compared to now, wasn't I?"
He nodded. "What about me?"
"Hmm. . ." Her hair smelled faintly of apples. She must have bathed recently. "A brat. Not quite a baby, but definitely a brat."
"A brat," he intoned levelly.
"A spoiled brat," she amended with flourish. "Aren't you proud of us, senpai?"
Senpai, huh? It's been a while since she called him that. Mostly it was anata or papa bird. If she felt like playing Yamato Nadeshiko (or if she was somehow pissed), she'd call him Chiaki-san.
"Aren't you?" she prompted again, her breath hot against his ear.
". . . of course, I am," he muttered. "At least, you don't burn the stuff I stockpile-cook when you reheat it. Not anymore, anyway. So is this why you're wearing this sleeper thing? Baby cosplay of some sort?"
"I wanted you to play a pederast---G-gyabo! Yes, yes, it was c-comfortable and made me feel like a b-baby. Now, let go off my windpipe, please. It's too early f-for a tie-me-up romp."
Hastily, he relinquished her neck, curling away from her and refocusing his attention back to the score he had been perusing.
"Now, senpai," she coaxed, burrowing herself back to his arms. "Tell me the real reason you hate Nodame's attire."
He was determined not to give her the satisfaction of an answer.
"I'll tickle it out of you," she threatened.
". . ."
"You know I'll win."
He muttered something barely intelligible.
"What did you say, anata? Buttons?"
"Oh, shut up."
Nodame shook with muted hilarity. "Don't worry, senpai," she assured him. "Nodame will help you with that. Just like old times, huh?"
Now, that, he decided was a little below the belt. Chiaki Shinichi didn't bother to argue back. He was too old for street fights, maybe, but certainly not for what they both wanted.
"How does Kyo say it again?" he asked instead, his hands finally abandoning the score for something more yielding. (Their three-year-old had decided he was an aspiring rap artist that month.) "Bring it?"
"Oh, I will."
011308 1705
/ January 13 / the best article in the market
Nodame Cantabile / Nodame, Chiaki / Rated PG