[Log] Under the stars
Who: Yamato and Fuji
Where: Outside under a tree
What: Fuji can't sleep, and finds solace in his old captain's company
Rated: G
Bird were singing. The lonely man under a big tree behind the school smiled. He sat leaning his back against the trunk, enjoying the sound of leaves singing high above him. All needed for such a gorgeous symphony was the wind. Yamato was happily mostly safe from it, the tree was big enough to shield him.
He wasn’t stupid. If he were stupid, he wouldn’t be a teacher. There was a general rule about teachers being stupid. It just didn’t happen. That’s why the student who said so, were only being children and unable to understand the utter brilliance that was needed for one to be a teacher. And this brilliant young teacher wasn’t sitting in the ground, which had only recently been covered with snow and which was still considerably cold and wet, but on a cover specifically made for sitting on in wonderful days as this.
Fuji wasn't sure when he had laid his eyes upon the lone figure sitting by the tree. He had been standing by his window, unable to sleep, or relax or concentrate on much needed school work, so instead he had been staring up into the ceiling, but as that proved futile, he decided to stare at the lovely view he had showed Saeki before instead. But, in spite of his own words, he couldn't quite see it.
He did see the young man however, and the young man was someone who Fuji could tell, even from this distance, was at least somewhat familiar. It could be either Echizen-sensei or Buchou-sensei - which was his own personal name for Yamato-sensei - and if it was Buchou-sensei... Well. Maybe he could help him wind down at least.
On silent feet Fuji padded outside, resisting the urge to sneeze as the cold air hit him face first, and he slowly made his way over to the three. "Buchou...?"
Regardless of the numerous sounds occupying Yamato’s sharp eyes, he sensed someone else near him, in the calm atmosphere. He recognized just who it was when the student called out for him. “Fuji-kun,” he acknowledged, turning his face towards the sound, and smiled. “Do you want to sit next to me?” He spread the jacket he was sitting on a little wider, and scooted a little to the side, leaving space for his kouhai-student.
"It's a little cold, isn't it," the fair haired boy replied, but took a seat none the less. Making himself comfortable, he wasted no time picking up his cell phone, snapping a picture of Yamato. "Hope you don't mind~"
“Of course not.” He wasn’t familiar with the newest technology, so he simply assumed Fuji was calling someone from the sounds he heard. He made himself comfortable in his new position, which included pulling the younger boy closer by wrapping an arm around him. “On times like this when we face the cruelty of nature, we must share our warmth to survive in the cold wilderness, don’t you think so as well, beautiful Fuji-kun?”
To tell the truth he still felt very confused sometimes by the height of his once-kouhais, as they in his memory were all short and cute. It was natural, but it would also take time to get used to. Especially when he couldn’t see them now and he couldn’t touch them to memorize the changes in them.
Had it been Yamada or (God forbid) Sakamoto-sensei who had became up close and personal in a physical sense like this, Fuji would have made a run for the hills, he was fairly certain of that. But this was Yamato-buchou-turned Yamato-sensei, and in Fuji's memory there had never once been a moment when he had felt threatened or ill at ease by the older man... And that held true yet to this day. Night. Whatever, really. And it didn't matter, did it?
"Why are you out in the cold wilderness, hm? Like its beauty?"
“Ah, it certainly is beautiful,” Yamato sighed leaning his head back on his living wooden back support. He wasn’t afraid of getting ants in his hair in this time of the year, though he never really was. He didn’t bother the ants and the ants barely bothered him. “And when you close your eyes you’re greeted with the most wonderful of music ever played. Better than the one played by human hands. I come and listen whenever I have the time.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing with an amused voice. “I seem to not have much time these days.”
Allowing himself to fall softly against Yamato's body, Fuji closed his eyes and nodded. "It's my favourite kind of music... All though I don't tell anyone, you know? It's too special to boast about." He inhaled slowly, allowing the scent of the night fill him, the sounds, soft sounds, not intense sounds like in the summer or late spring, ripple through his ears and he decided that it had been a good idea to come outside.
Yamato let the silence reign for a long time. He appreciated Fuji’s warmth on his side, it somewhat eased the cold caused by the wind which he was no longer completely shielded from. The boy’s breathing accompanied the whistle the wind let out every once in a while, melting into a part of the symphony. He could’ve listened to it for the rest of his life.
Yet, there was something else his senses told him. It hadn’t been so clear at first but as time went by and the wind slowed down, making a quieter, gentler sound. That when he let his voice speak out those thoughts. “Is there something wrong, Fuji-kun?”
"I... I guess there is," the younger boy said after the silence had once again settled between them and stretched out for a handful of seconds. "I'm worried. About friends... About me, I suppose. And I couldn't sleep. I tried, but... I couldn't. Not peacefully." The words were over his lips before he could help himself; but something about sitting like this, with Yamato's warm body against his own, feeling his chest move underneath him, and still feeling completely safe, made strange things happen with his subconsciousness.
Ah, so he’d been right. Yamato tightened his arm around the boy in a comforting gesture. It was very normal for young people to worry and sometimes they needed someone to listen, to ease their mind. Teenager troubles seemed to be small compared to the national crises or other things adults worried about, but for the teenagers themselves, their problems were national crises, the end of the world. Yamato knew. He was still a teenager himself.
“There is not much I can offer you, but my listening ear if you wish to tell me,” he said, not pushing his help on his younger companion, but with a genuine will to do so. “Two minds are always better than one in solving problems or so I’ve heard.”
"I suppose." The problem was, where should he start? What could he talk about? And what wouldn't burden Yamato too much if he made him listen to him? He was never good at these kind of things, was he? "I just don't know what to say... I guess I'm just trying so hard to find things to amuse myself with... And I'm trying to give my friends whatever support I can. But I'm just falling, sometimes."
Yamato lifted his hand from around the boy to pet his soft hair. He smiled a bit sadly. “You don’t have to try so hard, Fuji-kun. Things have a habit of solving themselves if one just lets the tide take over. It will turn eventually.” He didn’t know what he was talking about. Actually, he thought he was talking nonsense, but the words sounded good. Maybe there was some deep meaning to them, which he didn’t know yet? There were times when he’d felt like some higher thing was channeling through him, using him to teach others.
This was not one of those moments. This was just him and his ex-kouhai-now-a-student. Oh well, no one ever expected to understand what he was talking about anyway.
"The question is," Fuji muttered, making a small face, "how will the things solve themselves? In a positive way? Or a negative? And do we even know if whatever solution it becomes is the right one?" He sighed. "Or maybe I'm just over analyzing things." He gave a small chuckle and looked apologetically at Yamato. "I'm not a really good company tonight, sensei... I'm sorry."
Yamato kept petting the boy's soft hair. He looked up to the never-ending nothingness, which would've been the same no matter where he looked. "You are, Fuji-kun. Believe me. There's no one else I'd rather sit with right now." With his other hand he scratched the short hair on his chin. He should try cutting it again one of these days. Though he had to admit he was a little scared of cutting his throat in the process.
"Good or bad, we'll know when it comes. Until then we can only be ourselves," he then continued. "We're all blind when it comes to future."
For some reason, the words seemed comforting, and Fuji found himself finally getting somewhat sleepy. He sighed, resting his head more comfortably against Yamato's shoulder and closed his eyes. "Let me sit like this... A little while longer. Please?"
"Please do," Yamato smiled into the darkness and fell silent. His arm moved back around the boy. The serenade was quieting down, but Yamato's sharp ears still heard echoes of it and a beautiful evening melody. He was happy to share it.
Where: Outside under a tree
What: Fuji can't sleep, and finds solace in his old captain's company
Rated: G
Bird were singing. The lonely man under a big tree behind the school smiled. He sat leaning his back against the trunk, enjoying the sound of leaves singing high above him. All needed for such a gorgeous symphony was the wind. Yamato was happily mostly safe from it, the tree was big enough to shield him.
He wasn’t stupid. If he were stupid, he wouldn’t be a teacher. There was a general rule about teachers being stupid. It just didn’t happen. That’s why the student who said so, were only being children and unable to understand the utter brilliance that was needed for one to be a teacher. And this brilliant young teacher wasn’t sitting in the ground, which had only recently been covered with snow and which was still considerably cold and wet, but on a cover specifically made for sitting on in wonderful days as this.
Fuji wasn't sure when he had laid his eyes upon the lone figure sitting by the tree. He had been standing by his window, unable to sleep, or relax or concentrate on much needed school work, so instead he had been staring up into the ceiling, but as that proved futile, he decided to stare at the lovely view he had showed Saeki before instead. But, in spite of his own words, he couldn't quite see it.
He did see the young man however, and the young man was someone who Fuji could tell, even from this distance, was at least somewhat familiar. It could be either Echizen-sensei or Buchou-sensei - which was his own personal name for Yamato-sensei - and if it was Buchou-sensei... Well. Maybe he could help him wind down at least.
On silent feet Fuji padded outside, resisting the urge to sneeze as the cold air hit him face first, and he slowly made his way over to the three. "Buchou...?"
Regardless of the numerous sounds occupying Yamato’s sharp eyes, he sensed someone else near him, in the calm atmosphere. He recognized just who it was when the student called out for him. “Fuji-kun,” he acknowledged, turning his face towards the sound, and smiled. “Do you want to sit next to me?” He spread the jacket he was sitting on a little wider, and scooted a little to the side, leaving space for his kouhai-student.
"It's a little cold, isn't it," the fair haired boy replied, but took a seat none the less. Making himself comfortable, he wasted no time picking up his cell phone, snapping a picture of Yamato. "Hope you don't mind~"
“Of course not.” He wasn’t familiar with the newest technology, so he simply assumed Fuji was calling someone from the sounds he heard. He made himself comfortable in his new position, which included pulling the younger boy closer by wrapping an arm around him. “On times like this when we face the cruelty of nature, we must share our warmth to survive in the cold wilderness, don’t you think so as well, beautiful Fuji-kun?”
To tell the truth he still felt very confused sometimes by the height of his once-kouhais, as they in his memory were all short and cute. It was natural, but it would also take time to get used to. Especially when he couldn’t see them now and he couldn’t touch them to memorize the changes in them.
Had it been Yamada or (God forbid) Sakamoto-sensei who had became up close and personal in a physical sense like this, Fuji would have made a run for the hills, he was fairly certain of that. But this was Yamato-buchou-turned Yamato-sensei, and in Fuji's memory there had never once been a moment when he had felt threatened or ill at ease by the older man... And that held true yet to this day. Night. Whatever, really. And it didn't matter, did it?
"Why are you out in the cold wilderness, hm? Like its beauty?"
“Ah, it certainly is beautiful,” Yamato sighed leaning his head back on his living wooden back support. He wasn’t afraid of getting ants in his hair in this time of the year, though he never really was. He didn’t bother the ants and the ants barely bothered him. “And when you close your eyes you’re greeted with the most wonderful of music ever played. Better than the one played by human hands. I come and listen whenever I have the time.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing with an amused voice. “I seem to not have much time these days.”
Allowing himself to fall softly against Yamato's body, Fuji closed his eyes and nodded. "It's my favourite kind of music... All though I don't tell anyone, you know? It's too special to boast about." He inhaled slowly, allowing the scent of the night fill him, the sounds, soft sounds, not intense sounds like in the summer or late spring, ripple through his ears and he decided that it had been a good idea to come outside.
Yamato let the silence reign for a long time. He appreciated Fuji’s warmth on his side, it somewhat eased the cold caused by the wind which he was no longer completely shielded from. The boy’s breathing accompanied the whistle the wind let out every once in a while, melting into a part of the symphony. He could’ve listened to it for the rest of his life.
Yet, there was something else his senses told him. It hadn’t been so clear at first but as time went by and the wind slowed down, making a quieter, gentler sound. That when he let his voice speak out those thoughts. “Is there something wrong, Fuji-kun?”
"I... I guess there is," the younger boy said after the silence had once again settled between them and stretched out for a handful of seconds. "I'm worried. About friends... About me, I suppose. And I couldn't sleep. I tried, but... I couldn't. Not peacefully." The words were over his lips before he could help himself; but something about sitting like this, with Yamato's warm body against his own, feeling his chest move underneath him, and still feeling completely safe, made strange things happen with his subconsciousness.
Ah, so he’d been right. Yamato tightened his arm around the boy in a comforting gesture. It was very normal for young people to worry and sometimes they needed someone to listen, to ease their mind. Teenager troubles seemed to be small compared to the national crises or other things adults worried about, but for the teenagers themselves, their problems were national crises, the end of the world. Yamato knew. He was still a teenager himself.
“There is not much I can offer you, but my listening ear if you wish to tell me,” he said, not pushing his help on his younger companion, but with a genuine will to do so. “Two minds are always better than one in solving problems or so I’ve heard.”
"I suppose." The problem was, where should he start? What could he talk about? And what wouldn't burden Yamato too much if he made him listen to him? He was never good at these kind of things, was he? "I just don't know what to say... I guess I'm just trying so hard to find things to amuse myself with... And I'm trying to give my friends whatever support I can. But I'm just falling, sometimes."
Yamato lifted his hand from around the boy to pet his soft hair. He smiled a bit sadly. “You don’t have to try so hard, Fuji-kun. Things have a habit of solving themselves if one just lets the tide take over. It will turn eventually.” He didn’t know what he was talking about. Actually, he thought he was talking nonsense, but the words sounded good. Maybe there was some deep meaning to them, which he didn’t know yet? There were times when he’d felt like some higher thing was channeling through him, using him to teach others.
This was not one of those moments. This was just him and his ex-kouhai-now-a-student. Oh well, no one ever expected to understand what he was talking about anyway.
"The question is," Fuji muttered, making a small face, "how will the things solve themselves? In a positive way? Or a negative? And do we even know if whatever solution it becomes is the right one?" He sighed. "Or maybe I'm just over analyzing things." He gave a small chuckle and looked apologetically at Yamato. "I'm not a really good company tonight, sensei... I'm sorry."
Yamato kept petting the boy's soft hair. He looked up to the never-ending nothingness, which would've been the same no matter where he looked. "You are, Fuji-kun. Believe me. There's no one else I'd rather sit with right now." With his other hand he scratched the short hair on his chin. He should try cutting it again one of these days. Though he had to admit he was a little scared of cutting his throat in the process.
"Good or bad, we'll know when it comes. Until then we can only be ourselves," he then continued. "We're all blind when it comes to future."
For some reason, the words seemed comforting, and Fuji found himself finally getting somewhat sleepy. He sighed, resting his head more comfortably against Yamato's shoulder and closed his eyes. "Let me sit like this... A little while longer. Please?"
"Please do," Yamato smiled into the darkness and fell silent. His arm moved back around the boy. The serenade was quieting down, but Yamato's sharp ears still heard echoes of it and a beautiful evening melody. He was happy to share it.