Nomen Nescio: Chapter 3
Title: Nomen Nescio
Chapter: 3/13
Author: yuki_scorpio
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Romance
Warning: None
Characters: Yukimura, Yamato, Sanada, Sengoku, Tezuka and a cameo by Shiraishi
Summary: One night, a man with wings fell onto Yukimura's balcony...
Previous Chapters: Here
Nomen Nescio
Chapter 3
Yamato spent the better part of the working day staring at his own feet. Yukimura would be amused if he wasn't busy with being busy. They were out of the building when Yukimura suddenly realised Yamato was walking bare-footed. Yamato said he never wore shoes because he didn't walk often. They doubled back to the apartment, but Yukimura's shoes were too small for Yamato. He got him to put them on anyway, after pulling the laces out. On the way to work, they became the first customers of the day for a shoe shop nearby, and Yukimura was very nearly late when they finally arrived at the school.
When he finally had a moment to breathe, Yukimura went to Yamato, who was standing quietly in a corner. "Do the shoes fit all right, Yamato-san?"
Yamato lifted one of his feet, looking proud of his white sneakers. "Yes. Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me; I expect you to pay for them with work. Nothing is free in this world, unfortunately."
Smiling, Yamato shook his head. The look on his face said he knew better, but he didn't argue. Yukimura wasn't sure if he liked that.
By the end of the day, Yamato had picked up on the basic tasks in the classroom fairly well. Nothing chaotic happened, the students were happy that Yukimura took on a cute assistant, and Yukimura was secretly giddy that he could order an angel around, even if said ordering was only getting him to fetch the gluten-free flour from the middle shelf and the butter from the fridge.
After work, they bought some clothing (Yukimura had some more of Sanada's clothes, but he didn't think he could bear seeing them on another person) before going home. Then Yukimura sorted out his mail, watched a bit of TV, read a magazine, and did everything he could to keep himself from staring at his guest. Yamato was wandering around the apartment, looking at things. In particular, he examined all the photos displayed in frames on a stand. He was probably as fascinated about the lives of ordinary humans as Yukimura was of angels.
Then he was staring at his feet again. He had taken off the shoes and left them near the door.
"Is something wrong?"
"I think I'm not used to walking so much," Yamato looked rather embarrassed, "getting tired."
"Then sit down." It was hard to think what sort of attitude one should use to talk to Yamato. One moment he seemed very knowledgeable and capable of intelligent conversations, the next he was like a child or worse still, an idiot.
Yukimura got back to his reading. When he looked up again, Yamato was sitting very stiffly. "Yamato-san," he put the magazine aside, suspicion rising, "what's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing."
"I'm sure God doesn't like liars."
Yamato pressed his lips together and ducked his head.
Could it be the wings? Yukimura hadn't paid attention in the morning. He got up, stepped behind the angel and lifted the white shirt, whispering a 'excuse me'. And gasped.
Yamato's back was completely bruised. It was yellow-green near his shoulder and sides, gradually becoming an ugly purple near the centre. Two even darker, almost black patches marked where Yukimura imagined the wings sprung from. Surely he couldn't have walked around all day like this?
"This really does not look good." The sight of this made Yukimura cringe; it must be extremely painful. But what could they do? "Would it help to get someone to look at it properly?"
Yamato smiled helplessly. "It will get better by itself, but... yeah."
It would be dangerous to go to a doctor, though. What if they realised Yamato wasn't human? "Here, lie down on your front. I'll try to get some help."
A moment later, Yukimura was outside, ringing Sengoku's doorbell. Sengoku was a paramedic, and someone Yukimura knew and could trust. What happened in the morning, though, was probably going to hinder things.
"Sengoku-"
"Ah, Yukimura, I was just about to go look for you." Sengoku stuffed his hands into pockets. "Sorry about this morning. Yesterday was a particularly crap day and... yanno, if you want to move on, or even if you just need someone to help you deal... it's all good. Sorry. I shouldn't judge you."
Yukimura was lost for words for a while, but finally he managed to smile. "I've forgotten about that already." Sengoku truly was a good man. A little loud at times, but always sensible and thoughtful. "Actually, I'm wondering if you could help me with something."
When Sengoku set eyes on the man on Yukimura's sofa, he frowned deeply. "What the hell happened?"
"He fell on his back."
Sengoku shot them both a disbelieving glare for treating him like he was stupid. "Better go to the hospital. Something could have happened to the spine."
Yamato waved and laughed dismissively. "My bones are fine. Look-"
"Don't get up." Sengoku knelt beside Yamato, sighing. "This isn't gonna get me arrested, right? He isn't an illegal immigrant or something?"
Yukimura shook his head, so Sengoku got to work. Carefully he felt along the spine, asking questions all the time, to make sure nothing had broken, fractured or slipped. Satisfied with that, he sent Yukimura to fetch the first aid box from his apartment. The bruisings were very deep - in fact he didn't know it was possible for someone to bruise like this - so Yamato would have to be patient, Sengoku said. It could take a long time for it to get better.
Yukimura sat on his heels, beside Sengoku. The man began rubbing bruise cream into Yamato's skin, mumbling that this would hurt and Yamato should brace himself. But the angel only winced at the initial contact and after that, visibly relaxed. Concentrated on where his hands were, Sengoku didn't notice the change, but Yamato was melting into the sofa as if he was receiving the best massage in the world.
But after a while, even Sengoku knew something was wrong. The bruises were fading rapidly, the large patch of colour contracting towards two points either side of the spine, until the two dark patches the size of Sengoku's palms were all that were left. The paramedic scooted himself back, nearly falling onto his backside. His mouth hung open but no words came out. Looking towards Yukimura gave him no answers, because Yukimura was wide-eyed as well.
Yamato sat up and stretched. "Ah, thank you, Sengoku-kun. I feel so much better."
"How do you know my name? No," there was a much more important question. "What the hell just happened?"
"Actually-" Yukimura began, his brain trying to come up with any sort of explanation that might vaguely make sense, but Yamato waved and cut him off.
"It's okay, Yukimura-kun." It looked like Yamato was concentrating. His wings appeared, long and majestic, and he bowed as he stretched them out. But they only opened up to a certain point before his face twitched. "Still no good." He said, shaking his head, and the wings were gone. "But thank you, Sengoku-kun. I can tell you're a very good doctor."
Sitting on the floor, Sengoku just pointed, having gone past incoherency to speechlessness. Why did Yamato show the wings? Yukimura couldn't understand. Now there was a lot more explaining to do. "He just fell onto my balcony last night. I'm letting him stay until he can fly again."
"So...so..."
Yamato answered the question. "Yes, I am." Was this new, or had Yukimura failed to notice before that the angel had a very benevolent smile? "Though I'm not a very useful one right now, I'm afraid."
Yukimura left for the kitchen. He wanted a drink. Yamato could handle this. If he wanted to go around telling the whole world he was an angel, and bring trouble upon himself, it was his freedom to do so.
Making tea didn't take long but when he carried it out on a tray, Sengoku and Yamato were sitting together and chatting like they were new best friends.
"...Yukimura-kun asked me the same question already. There's nothing I can tell you and I don't think it's something you should worry about."
Yukimura poured tea and sat down to listen.
"It is something to worry about."
"Sengoku-kun." Yamato tone of voice became a little more serious. "You loved him, yes, but he's gone. There comes a time when you should move on."
"I know." Sengoku glanced at Yukimura. The man smiled gently at him. "But is it wrong to want to know if he's doing well? That's all I want to know."
The angel helped himself to tea and leaned into the sofa, sipping from the mug. His sunglasses were steaming up but he made no move to wipe them or take them off. He sighed with a good degree of drama. "You people are going to get me into trouble."
Sengoku edged himself closer to the angel, waiting for the words. "Well?"
"He's fine."
Sengoku smiled, then he was grinning, and laughing, and punching Yamato in the arm. "He's fine!" He laughed again, "Yukimura, Sanada's fi-"
Blinking wasn't helping Yukimura clear his vision. Something warm and wet rolled down his cheeks, making him realise why Sengoku had stopped talking abruptly. "Ah," he bowed his head, pressed his sleeve to his eyes and let curly hair obscure his face. "I'm just... relieved. Please excuse me."
When Yukimura left to wash his face, Yamato adjusted his glasses, although they were not slipping, and said something inaudible. Was it a comment or a prayer, Sengoku couldn't tell, but he could see why Yukimura had agreed to let the angel stay, as he recalled how Sanada liked to pull down his cap and mumble under his breath. At times, Yamato could look a little bit like Sanada.
Chapter: 3/13
Author: yuki_scorpio
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Romance
Warning: None
Characters: Yukimura, Yamato, Sanada, Sengoku, Tezuka and a cameo by Shiraishi
Summary: One night, a man with wings fell onto Yukimura's balcony...
Previous Chapters: Here
Nomen Nescio
Chapter 3
Yamato spent the better part of the working day staring at his own feet. Yukimura would be amused if he wasn't busy with being busy. They were out of the building when Yukimura suddenly realised Yamato was walking bare-footed. Yamato said he never wore shoes because he didn't walk often. They doubled back to the apartment, but Yukimura's shoes were too small for Yamato. He got him to put them on anyway, after pulling the laces out. On the way to work, they became the first customers of the day for a shoe shop nearby, and Yukimura was very nearly late when they finally arrived at the school.
When he finally had a moment to breathe, Yukimura went to Yamato, who was standing quietly in a corner. "Do the shoes fit all right, Yamato-san?"
Yamato lifted one of his feet, looking proud of his white sneakers. "Yes. Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me; I expect you to pay for them with work. Nothing is free in this world, unfortunately."
Smiling, Yamato shook his head. The look on his face said he knew better, but he didn't argue. Yukimura wasn't sure if he liked that.
By the end of the day, Yamato had picked up on the basic tasks in the classroom fairly well. Nothing chaotic happened, the students were happy that Yukimura took on a cute assistant, and Yukimura was secretly giddy that he could order an angel around, even if said ordering was only getting him to fetch the gluten-free flour from the middle shelf and the butter from the fridge.
After work, they bought some clothing (Yukimura had some more of Sanada's clothes, but he didn't think he could bear seeing them on another person) before going home. Then Yukimura sorted out his mail, watched a bit of TV, read a magazine, and did everything he could to keep himself from staring at his guest. Yamato was wandering around the apartment, looking at things. In particular, he examined all the photos displayed in frames on a stand. He was probably as fascinated about the lives of ordinary humans as Yukimura was of angels.
Then he was staring at his feet again. He had taken off the shoes and left them near the door.
"Is something wrong?"
"I think I'm not used to walking so much," Yamato looked rather embarrassed, "getting tired."
"Then sit down." It was hard to think what sort of attitude one should use to talk to Yamato. One moment he seemed very knowledgeable and capable of intelligent conversations, the next he was like a child or worse still, an idiot.
Yukimura got back to his reading. When he looked up again, Yamato was sitting very stiffly. "Yamato-san," he put the magazine aside, suspicion rising, "what's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing."
"I'm sure God doesn't like liars."
Yamato pressed his lips together and ducked his head.
Could it be the wings? Yukimura hadn't paid attention in the morning. He got up, stepped behind the angel and lifted the white shirt, whispering a 'excuse me'. And gasped.
Yamato's back was completely bruised. It was yellow-green near his shoulder and sides, gradually becoming an ugly purple near the centre. Two even darker, almost black patches marked where Yukimura imagined the wings sprung from. Surely he couldn't have walked around all day like this?
"This really does not look good." The sight of this made Yukimura cringe; it must be extremely painful. But what could they do? "Would it help to get someone to look at it properly?"
Yamato smiled helplessly. "It will get better by itself, but... yeah."
It would be dangerous to go to a doctor, though. What if they realised Yamato wasn't human? "Here, lie down on your front. I'll try to get some help."
A moment later, Yukimura was outside, ringing Sengoku's doorbell. Sengoku was a paramedic, and someone Yukimura knew and could trust. What happened in the morning, though, was probably going to hinder things.
"Sengoku-"
"Ah, Yukimura, I was just about to go look for you." Sengoku stuffed his hands into pockets. "Sorry about this morning. Yesterday was a particularly crap day and... yanno, if you want to move on, or even if you just need someone to help you deal... it's all good. Sorry. I shouldn't judge you."
Yukimura was lost for words for a while, but finally he managed to smile. "I've forgotten about that already." Sengoku truly was a good man. A little loud at times, but always sensible and thoughtful. "Actually, I'm wondering if you could help me with something."
When Sengoku set eyes on the man on Yukimura's sofa, he frowned deeply. "What the hell happened?"
"He fell on his back."
Sengoku shot them both a disbelieving glare for treating him like he was stupid. "Better go to the hospital. Something could have happened to the spine."
Yamato waved and laughed dismissively. "My bones are fine. Look-"
"Don't get up." Sengoku knelt beside Yamato, sighing. "This isn't gonna get me arrested, right? He isn't an illegal immigrant or something?"
Yukimura shook his head, so Sengoku got to work. Carefully he felt along the spine, asking questions all the time, to make sure nothing had broken, fractured or slipped. Satisfied with that, he sent Yukimura to fetch the first aid box from his apartment. The bruisings were very deep - in fact he didn't know it was possible for someone to bruise like this - so Yamato would have to be patient, Sengoku said. It could take a long time for it to get better.
Yukimura sat on his heels, beside Sengoku. The man began rubbing bruise cream into Yamato's skin, mumbling that this would hurt and Yamato should brace himself. But the angel only winced at the initial contact and after that, visibly relaxed. Concentrated on where his hands were, Sengoku didn't notice the change, but Yamato was melting into the sofa as if he was receiving the best massage in the world.
But after a while, even Sengoku knew something was wrong. The bruises were fading rapidly, the large patch of colour contracting towards two points either side of the spine, until the two dark patches the size of Sengoku's palms were all that were left. The paramedic scooted himself back, nearly falling onto his backside. His mouth hung open but no words came out. Looking towards Yukimura gave him no answers, because Yukimura was wide-eyed as well.
Yamato sat up and stretched. "Ah, thank you, Sengoku-kun. I feel so much better."
"How do you know my name? No," there was a much more important question. "What the hell just happened?"
"Actually-" Yukimura began, his brain trying to come up with any sort of explanation that might vaguely make sense, but Yamato waved and cut him off.
"It's okay, Yukimura-kun." It looked like Yamato was concentrating. His wings appeared, long and majestic, and he bowed as he stretched them out. But they only opened up to a certain point before his face twitched. "Still no good." He said, shaking his head, and the wings were gone. "But thank you, Sengoku-kun. I can tell you're a very good doctor."
Sitting on the floor, Sengoku just pointed, having gone past incoherency to speechlessness. Why did Yamato show the wings? Yukimura couldn't understand. Now there was a lot more explaining to do. "He just fell onto my balcony last night. I'm letting him stay until he can fly again."
"So...so..."
Yamato answered the question. "Yes, I am." Was this new, or had Yukimura failed to notice before that the angel had a very benevolent smile? "Though I'm not a very useful one right now, I'm afraid."
Yukimura left for the kitchen. He wanted a drink. Yamato could handle this. If he wanted to go around telling the whole world he was an angel, and bring trouble upon himself, it was his freedom to do so.
Making tea didn't take long but when he carried it out on a tray, Sengoku and Yamato were sitting together and chatting like they were new best friends.
"...Yukimura-kun asked me the same question already. There's nothing I can tell you and I don't think it's something you should worry about."
Yukimura poured tea and sat down to listen.
"It is something to worry about."
"Sengoku-kun." Yamato tone of voice became a little more serious. "You loved him, yes, but he's gone. There comes a time when you should move on."
"I know." Sengoku glanced at Yukimura. The man smiled gently at him. "But is it wrong to want to know if he's doing well? That's all I want to know."
The angel helped himself to tea and leaned into the sofa, sipping from the mug. His sunglasses were steaming up but he made no move to wipe them or take them off. He sighed with a good degree of drama. "You people are going to get me into trouble."
Sengoku edged himself closer to the angel, waiting for the words. "Well?"
"He's fine."
Sengoku smiled, then he was grinning, and laughing, and punching Yamato in the arm. "He's fine!" He laughed again, "Yukimura, Sanada's fi-"
Blinking wasn't helping Yukimura clear his vision. Something warm and wet rolled down his cheeks, making him realise why Sengoku had stopped talking abruptly. "Ah," he bowed his head, pressed his sleeve to his eyes and let curly hair obscure his face. "I'm just... relieved. Please excuse me."
When Yukimura left to wash his face, Yamato adjusted his glasses, although they were not slipping, and said something inaudible. Was it a comment or a prayer, Sengoku couldn't tell, but he could see why Yukimura had agreed to let the angel stay, as he recalled how Sanada liked to pull down his cap and mumble under his breath. At times, Yamato could look a little bit like Sanada.