[AU] Learning to Breathe
Title: Learning to Breathe
Pairing: Nishikido Ryo/Ishihara Satomi
Rating: PG
Summary: The more people change, the more they stay the same.
A/N: Sequel (of sorts) to Learning to Fly. Dear frostbittenlove, I can never write as vividly or as poignantly as you do, but here’s an attempt to XD I think our differences are directly proportional to our similarities, and even though we lock horns sometimes a lot of times LOL, I will forever be grateful for our friendship. いつまでも、よろしくお願いします。♥ Advanced happy birthday! ♥♥ And see you soon hahahaha
Thank you to melonpaan and kanarazu for beta reading :) I love you both ♥♥
Satomi could almost convince herself that it isn’t him if not for the smile on his face that’s burned in her memory. Ace. Ryo Nishikido. He looks exactly the same except his hair is longer - though his fringe falls over his eyes the same way - the lines on his face deeper, his jaw more pronounced.
Is it really him?
She places her hand in his.
“I would have thought a queen would know how to dance,” he says after she trips over her feet the second time. She only has herself to blame; she couldn’t stop staring at him.
“I am no longer the queen,” she says automatically, before he spins her around and she lets out a little gasp the next moment when he pulls her to him. A little closer than necessary.
Their relationship - for all its brevity - had always teetered on being a little closer than necessary.
The proximity brings a waft of something undoubtedly alcoholic to her nose. “Mr. Ace.” She takes a step back, one small hand to his chest as if to push him away. “Are you intoxicated?”
“No,” he says a little too quickly for her taste before stumbling the next moment. Her eyes narrow. “Yes,” he relents, but god help her, he’s still smiling, even more toothily than before.
Satomi steps back and turns away.
“Sa-Your Highness,” Ryo fumbles - the title feeling heavy and foreign on his tongue - and he catches himself just in time. Satomi would be too familiar, too soon - especially in public - and milady would lack proper respect. Especially since she became queen, never mind that she’s a dowager now. He inwardly curses himself for having a glass of wine for Dutch courage.
The only problem was Ryo actually had three. Or, alright, it was four. In quick succession. One or two for courage just didn’t cut it.
Now she’s turning away and Ryo feels his stomach drop, feels the only chance he had to finally see her after years slipping past his grasp-
-when he realizes her hand is still in his and she’s tugging him away from the dance floor. “Follow me.”
She leads the way to an isolated garden a fair distance away from the castle, dropping his hand only to place both of hers to his cheeks, stepping forward to gaze into his eyes (-Ace? Aaaace?) and he steps back unsteadily, still daunted by her sudden advances after all these years.
And then she slaps him.
“Owwww, what the-?!”
“You’re real,” she breathes, promptly throwing her arms around him the next moment before bursting into tears.
“Y-Your Highness…”
“Satomi,” she grits out in the same manner as so many years ago that he can’t help but laugh out loud. “They said you’d died.”
“I’m obviously alive…”
“But the mercenary records list you as ‘killed in action’.”
Ryo steps back, holding her at arm’s length. “...How did…why...?”
Her blush is unmistakable even under the moonlight. “I obviously looked for you.”
His mouth is faster than his brain, “But you were married.”
Satomi freezes, stepping away from him for the second time that night. “I am very well aware of that,” she says hotly, face flushing. “Is it so wrong to search for the person who was my-” She doesn’t finish her sentence, turning away instead with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ryo waits. After several beats, he asks, “Are you going to apologize for acting childishly again?”
“I am not childish!” Satomi bursts out, though in reality she currently feels exactly like her younger self. She adds, “I am no longer seventeen, in case you haven’t noticed.”
There’s another beat before he says, “I noticed.”
She suppresses a shiver at the way his voice had gone low. “You seem to have become rather uncouth these past seven years.”
“Maybe because I’ve rather missed…” Satomi holds her breath, waiting for him to continue. “...Someone.”
...at the expense of my comrades who have agreed to become a diversion tactic…
Of course. How stupid of her to expect anything, even though she doesn’t really know what she’s expecting. He must be all alone in the world. All of his friends had died.
Died protecting her.
“Seven years,” Ryo says, cutting into her reverie. “You were counting?”
“Do you mean your friends?” Satomi asks, ignoring his own question, feeling guilt well up in her chest. “Are they the ones you miss?”
Ryo shakes his head. “Come with me.”
“Pardon?”
“Will you come with me?” He holds out his hand to her for the second time that night. “Please?”
And for the second time that night, she places her hand in his.
Is it so wrong to search for the person who was my last hope?
“We’re closed-” Johnny calls out, looking up from where he’s wiping the counter clean. “Oh, Ace, it’s you.” His mouth drops open. “Your Highness. Welcome back to Wyndham.”
Satomi drops into a curtsey, waving off the title, even though Johnny’s already gone from behind the bar counter to bow in front of her. “There really is no need for that,” she murmurs shyly. “Ace just-”
“This is Johnny,” Ryo introduces, walking over and clamping a firm hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “He’s one of my comrades. He was part of the diversionary platoon which had ensured our escape that time.” The bar door bangs open and a man of rather short stature with long hair and a sharp gaze walks in. “And this is Arsenal. Another comrade.”
Arsenal bows to Satomi wordlessly. She curtsies again, murmuring that it’s really unnecessary.
Steps come thumping down the stairs just beside the counter. Tiny feet and then a pajama-clad little boy with a mop of jet black hair appears, one hand rubbing over sleepy eyes. “Papa…?” he calls out. “Mama said-”
“Eight, get back to bed.” They glimpse delicate ankles, and then a flowing skirt, and then a rounded belly before they see the face of a woman whose lips are turned downward in a pout. “What’s all this? Eight was already slee-” Mirei blinks as her gaze falls on Satomi, taking several moments to recognize her before gasping, “Your Highness!”
“Please don’t,” Satomi says immediately, walking over to the other woman to grasp her elbows as if to physically prevent her from paying her respects. “I apologize for this intrusion.”
“N-No, the pleasure is all ours,” Mirei stammers. “My name is Mirei. Johnny is my husband. And this is Eight,” she goes on, ruffling the hair of the boy just before he turns and runs back up the stairs. “Our son.”
“What an adorable child,” Satomi murmurs with a smile, before he disappears from view. “Is he your eighth child, then?”
“No, your Highness,” Mirei answers cheerfully. “He’s our first, actually!”
“I...see,” Satomi says, trying not to appear too confused.
“It’s a long story.” Ryo says, walking over to give Mirei an almost teasing smile. “I wouldn’t think too much about it.”
“Well,” Satomi returns, laughing sharply, “Speaking of long stories…”
An awkward silence falls upon the small pub.
Mirei breaks it by ordering Johnny to prepare a drink for the princess dowager and Arsenal asks Ryo to bring in the crates of Valoisian beer to the cellar at the back of the pub, where they kept all the alcohol.
When Ryo leaves to do as Arsenal had asked, Mirei retreats back to the living quarters above the pub and Johnny goes back to the counter to make the tea Satomi had requested. Sharp black eyes gaze into soft brown ones. “Your Highness, allow me this opportunity to express my sincerest gratitude.”
Satomi blinks, flustered. “Whatever for?”
“For saving Ace’s life.”
They decided it was a miracle that all of them survived the attack. It was no secret that mercenary pilots usually were better than military pilots, and survival was just one of the things they were even better at.
Surviving was different from living, though. Some of them sustained injuries that took years to recover from. One of their comrades called Mac took a hit to the head that caused him to fall into a coma. Arsenal holds up his right hand to show Satomi the network of scars on the back of his hand. He’d lost all function of his fingers, shrapnels having embedded themselves into his flesh and severing his nerves.
But he’s fine, Arsenal assures her. They all are, even Mac, who came out of the coma after three years and now works odd jobs for the pub. Arsenal reckons Mac is already asleep tonight, easily tiring out these days. They all feel that way sometimes, these days.
“Have you ever discussed, back then, what the reward was for flying you to safety?”
“He said it was a bag of gold.”
“Do you know how he spent it?”
Satomi shakes her head.
“He bought his own life back.” Arsenal smiles wryly. “He bought his own freedom. And then he bought ours, too.”
“Is being officially recorded as dead the equivalent of your freedom?” Her voice breaks the peaceful chirping of crickets in the night. He’s perched on a barrel at the back of the pub, in a manner reminiscent of the way he used to perch on the plane wing, staring at the sky. An empty bottle of beer sits by his feet.
“I’ll kill Arsenal,” Ryo replies without missing a beat.
“Ace, will you answer me?”
He only smiles that unnerving smile.
She steps closer and pokes his side. Hard.
“-hey!” he squawks, nearly losing his footing, empty beer bottle tumbling to the ground. But it makes her giggle and he has to inwardly admit that he’s missed the sound. “Stop it.”
“Tell me,” she insists. “Ryo.”
He closes his eyes and suppresses a shiver at the way his name rolls so easily off her tongue before taking a deep breath. “I don’t really go by those names anymore.”
She tilts her head slightly to one side. “I do not understand.”
“Being dead meant nobody would come after me. After us. But old habits die hard.” He shrugs. “We don’t call each other anything else. And I like using my real name sometimes to spite them-the very people I paid to make me dead.”
She pushes herself up to sit on the barrel next to his with surprising ease. “What are you known as now?”
“Several names.”
“Tell me.”
He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, though he averts his gaze from her as he answers, “Souta Yamada. Ryosuke Aoi. Kazuto Kuwahara.”
Her eyes widen, recognizing the names as the biggest benefactors of her charity.
“You fool…” She feels tears welling up a second time. “You should have bought an airplane.” She leans on his shoulder and cries, and she feels him place a small kiss on her hair.
“Why did you show yourself to me?”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“That’s all?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re alright. I just want to make sure that the young girl I once knew would never again be put in a role she never wanted. I just…want to remind you of that. That you can live your life exactly the way you want to.”
“Ryo…”
He looks away and directs his gaze up at the sky, smiling from ear to ear. “Did you know, the stars never looked as bright as they were when I was with you.”
Her hand covers his and the warmth remains, no longer a fleeting memory.
“I still have enough gold leftover to buy an airplane. I’ve always wanted to fly into the sky.”
Her fingers lace through his. “Will you take me with you?”
He looks at her, finds her gazing at him directly and openly. Just like seven years ago.
This time, he no longer hesitates. “Of course.”
We can just disappear and no one would know.
Pairing: Nishikido Ryo/Ishihara Satomi
Rating: PG
Summary: The more people change, the more they stay the same.
A/N: Sequel (of sorts) to Learning to Fly. Dear frostbittenlove, I can never write as vividly or as poignantly as you do, but here’s an attempt to XD I think our differences are directly proportional to our similarities, and even though we lock horns sometimes a lot of times LOL, I will forever be grateful for our friendship. いつまでも、よろしくお願いします。♥ Advanced happy birthday! ♥♥ And see you soon hahahaha
Thank you to melonpaan and kanarazu for beta reading :) I love you both ♥♥
Satomi could almost convince herself that it isn’t him if not for the smile on his face that’s burned in her memory. Ace. Ryo Nishikido. He looks exactly the same except his hair is longer - though his fringe falls over his eyes the same way - the lines on his face deeper, his jaw more pronounced.
Is it really him?
She places her hand in his.
“I would have thought a queen would know how to dance,” he says after she trips over her feet the second time. She only has herself to blame; she couldn’t stop staring at him.
“I am no longer the queen,” she says automatically, before he spins her around and she lets out a little gasp the next moment when he pulls her to him. A little closer than necessary.
Their relationship - for all its brevity - had always teetered on being a little closer than necessary.
The proximity brings a waft of something undoubtedly alcoholic to her nose. “Mr. Ace.” She takes a step back, one small hand to his chest as if to push him away. “Are you intoxicated?”
“No,” he says a little too quickly for her taste before stumbling the next moment. Her eyes narrow. “Yes,” he relents, but god help her, he’s still smiling, even more toothily than before.
Satomi steps back and turns away.
“Sa-Your Highness,” Ryo fumbles - the title feeling heavy and foreign on his tongue - and he catches himself just in time. Satomi would be too familiar, too soon - especially in public - and milady would lack proper respect. Especially since she became queen, never mind that she’s a dowager now. He inwardly curses himself for having a glass of wine for Dutch courage.
The only problem was Ryo actually had three. Or, alright, it was four. In quick succession. One or two for courage just didn’t cut it.
Now she’s turning away and Ryo feels his stomach drop, feels the only chance he had to finally see her after years slipping past his grasp-
-when he realizes her hand is still in his and she’s tugging him away from the dance floor. “Follow me.”
She leads the way to an isolated garden a fair distance away from the castle, dropping his hand only to place both of hers to his cheeks, stepping forward to gaze into his eyes (-Ace? Aaaace?) and he steps back unsteadily, still daunted by her sudden advances after all these years.
And then she slaps him.
“Owwww, what the-?!”
“You’re real,” she breathes, promptly throwing her arms around him the next moment before bursting into tears.
“Y-Your Highness…”
“Satomi,” she grits out in the same manner as so many years ago that he can’t help but laugh out loud. “They said you’d died.”
“I’m obviously alive…”
“But the mercenary records list you as ‘killed in action’.”
Ryo steps back, holding her at arm’s length. “...How did…why...?”
Her blush is unmistakable even under the moonlight. “I obviously looked for you.”
His mouth is faster than his brain, “But you were married.”
Satomi freezes, stepping away from him for the second time that night. “I am very well aware of that,” she says hotly, face flushing. “Is it so wrong to search for the person who was my-” She doesn’t finish her sentence, turning away instead with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ryo waits. After several beats, he asks, “Are you going to apologize for acting childishly again?”
“I am not childish!” Satomi bursts out, though in reality she currently feels exactly like her younger self. She adds, “I am no longer seventeen, in case you haven’t noticed.”
There’s another beat before he says, “I noticed.”
She suppresses a shiver at the way his voice had gone low. “You seem to have become rather uncouth these past seven years.”
“Maybe because I’ve rather missed…” Satomi holds her breath, waiting for him to continue. “...Someone.”
...at the expense of my comrades who have agreed to become a diversion tactic…
Of course. How stupid of her to expect anything, even though she doesn’t really know what she’s expecting. He must be all alone in the world. All of his friends had died.
Died protecting her.
“Seven years,” Ryo says, cutting into her reverie. “You were counting?”
“Do you mean your friends?” Satomi asks, ignoring his own question, feeling guilt well up in her chest. “Are they the ones you miss?”
Ryo shakes his head. “Come with me.”
“Pardon?”
“Will you come with me?” He holds out his hand to her for the second time that night. “Please?”
And for the second time that night, she places her hand in his.
Is it so wrong to search for the person who was my last hope?
“We’re closed-” Johnny calls out, looking up from where he’s wiping the counter clean. “Oh, Ace, it’s you.” His mouth drops open. “Your Highness. Welcome back to Wyndham.”
Satomi drops into a curtsey, waving off the title, even though Johnny’s already gone from behind the bar counter to bow in front of her. “There really is no need for that,” she murmurs shyly. “Ace just-”
“This is Johnny,” Ryo introduces, walking over and clamping a firm hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “He’s one of my comrades. He was part of the diversionary platoon which had ensured our escape that time.” The bar door bangs open and a man of rather short stature with long hair and a sharp gaze walks in. “And this is Arsenal. Another comrade.”
Arsenal bows to Satomi wordlessly. She curtsies again, murmuring that it’s really unnecessary.
Steps come thumping down the stairs just beside the counter. Tiny feet and then a pajama-clad little boy with a mop of jet black hair appears, one hand rubbing over sleepy eyes. “Papa…?” he calls out. “Mama said-”
“Eight, get back to bed.” They glimpse delicate ankles, and then a flowing skirt, and then a rounded belly before they see the face of a woman whose lips are turned downward in a pout. “What’s all this? Eight was already slee-” Mirei blinks as her gaze falls on Satomi, taking several moments to recognize her before gasping, “Your Highness!”
“Please don’t,” Satomi says immediately, walking over to the other woman to grasp her elbows as if to physically prevent her from paying her respects. “I apologize for this intrusion.”
“N-No, the pleasure is all ours,” Mirei stammers. “My name is Mirei. Johnny is my husband. And this is Eight,” she goes on, ruffling the hair of the boy just before he turns and runs back up the stairs. “Our son.”
“What an adorable child,” Satomi murmurs with a smile, before he disappears from view. “Is he your eighth child, then?”
“No, your Highness,” Mirei answers cheerfully. “He’s our first, actually!”
“I...see,” Satomi says, trying not to appear too confused.
“It’s a long story.” Ryo says, walking over to give Mirei an almost teasing smile. “I wouldn’t think too much about it.”
“Well,” Satomi returns, laughing sharply, “Speaking of long stories…”
An awkward silence falls upon the small pub.
Mirei breaks it by ordering Johnny to prepare a drink for the princess dowager and Arsenal asks Ryo to bring in the crates of Valoisian beer to the cellar at the back of the pub, where they kept all the alcohol.
When Ryo leaves to do as Arsenal had asked, Mirei retreats back to the living quarters above the pub and Johnny goes back to the counter to make the tea Satomi had requested. Sharp black eyes gaze into soft brown ones. “Your Highness, allow me this opportunity to express my sincerest gratitude.”
Satomi blinks, flustered. “Whatever for?”
“For saving Ace’s life.”
They decided it was a miracle that all of them survived the attack. It was no secret that mercenary pilots usually were better than military pilots, and survival was just one of the things they were even better at.
Surviving was different from living, though. Some of them sustained injuries that took years to recover from. One of their comrades called Mac took a hit to the head that caused him to fall into a coma. Arsenal holds up his right hand to show Satomi the network of scars on the back of his hand. He’d lost all function of his fingers, shrapnels having embedded themselves into his flesh and severing his nerves.
But he’s fine, Arsenal assures her. They all are, even Mac, who came out of the coma after three years and now works odd jobs for the pub. Arsenal reckons Mac is already asleep tonight, easily tiring out these days. They all feel that way sometimes, these days.
“Have you ever discussed, back then, what the reward was for flying you to safety?”
“He said it was a bag of gold.”
“Do you know how he spent it?”
Satomi shakes her head.
“He bought his own life back.” Arsenal smiles wryly. “He bought his own freedom. And then he bought ours, too.”
“Is being officially recorded as dead the equivalent of your freedom?” Her voice breaks the peaceful chirping of crickets in the night. He’s perched on a barrel at the back of the pub, in a manner reminiscent of the way he used to perch on the plane wing, staring at the sky. An empty bottle of beer sits by his feet.
“I’ll kill Arsenal,” Ryo replies without missing a beat.
“Ace, will you answer me?”
He only smiles that unnerving smile.
She steps closer and pokes his side. Hard.
“-hey!” he squawks, nearly losing his footing, empty beer bottle tumbling to the ground. But it makes her giggle and he has to inwardly admit that he’s missed the sound. “Stop it.”
“Tell me,” she insists. “Ryo.”
He closes his eyes and suppresses a shiver at the way his name rolls so easily off her tongue before taking a deep breath. “I don’t really go by those names anymore.”
She tilts her head slightly to one side. “I do not understand.”
“Being dead meant nobody would come after me. After us. But old habits die hard.” He shrugs. “We don’t call each other anything else. And I like using my real name sometimes to spite them-the very people I paid to make me dead.”
She pushes herself up to sit on the barrel next to his with surprising ease. “What are you known as now?”
“Several names.”
“Tell me.”
He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, though he averts his gaze from her as he answers, “Souta Yamada. Ryosuke Aoi. Kazuto Kuwahara.”
Her eyes widen, recognizing the names as the biggest benefactors of her charity.
“You fool…” She feels tears welling up a second time. “You should have bought an airplane.” She leans on his shoulder and cries, and she feels him place a small kiss on her hair.
“Why did you show yourself to me?”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“That’s all?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re alright. I just want to make sure that the young girl I once knew would never again be put in a role she never wanted. I just…want to remind you of that. That you can live your life exactly the way you want to.”
“Ryo…”
He looks away and directs his gaze up at the sky, smiling from ear to ear. “Did you know, the stars never looked as bright as they were when I was with you.”
Her hand covers his and the warmth remains, no longer a fleeting memory.
“I still have enough gold leftover to buy an airplane. I’ve always wanted to fly into the sky.”
Her fingers lace through his. “Will you take me with you?”
He looks at her, finds her gazing at him directly and openly. Just like seven years ago.
This time, he no longer hesitates. “Of course.”
We can just disappear and no one would know.