Chocolate Fic for kohee
To: kohee
From: shy_hinata
Title: Virtues
Pairing: Kurosaki and Tsurara
Rating: G-PG
Summary: Sometimes it takes another person for you to realize the best in yourself.
A/N: Written for the lovely kohee
i. Prudence
I've always been a careful person; I can't help it. After what happened to me and my mother, how can I not be? So, it's quite ironic that I meet you after trying to look out for my cousin and his family. That one fateful day where sheer chance lands me on the subway tracks, and just when I think it's all over, there you are. Even now, I can't seem to wipe away the memory of how your eyes seemed to bore into mine. Not that I'd ever want to forget anyway.
Ever since that day, I wonder what happened to my careful instinct. It's still there, but somehow I'm not listening to it like I should. It tells me to stay away from you, that cheap rent isn't worth it. But when we meet on the stairs, and our eyes lock yet again, I can feel some other force pulling at me. I don't know what it is, but I feel as though there's some way for me to reach you, and how can I just ignore that chance?
In our lecture today, my professor started to get philosophical. Prudence, according to him, isn't just about being cautious. It's about exercising good judgment especially when a difficult choice needs to be made; how one weighs things out for the greater good. He went on about how prudence was the hallmark of a good lawyer, but I think I had stopped listening. As they seem to be doing lately, my thoughts turn to you. Maybe, just maybe, you're the one meant to bring out that trait in me.
ii. Justice
You used to talk about it all the time. Justice. It's what you were going to law school for; so you could see that justice was done, to see that the weak weren't oppressed. I remember laughing at your naive take on things. As if something as complex as justice could be so black and white. I wondered where that left me, someone for whom the justice system had failed. What was the point in trying to "fight fair", or to "do the right thing"? Only people who'd never been hurt could think that. People who live in ivory towers, with sunshine and rainbows. People like you, not me.
I thought you didn't understand anything about me. You seemed to make it very clear from the moment we first spoke. To you, two wrongs couldn't make a right, no matter how futile it was to try and catch the crook. But is that really justice? To allow the guilty ones to stay free, and continue on their merry way, hurting more people in their wake. You looked at me with those big eyes of yours, and I could see you faltering. To your credit, you were honest and told me that you didn't know, but you still didn't think it was right to commit crimes.
You'll never know, but my heart sank the night Katsuragi sold me information about your father. And suddenly it all seemed to fall into place. You didn't have lofty, idealistic goals brought about by reading one too many mystery novels. No, you just didn't want what happened to you to happen to anyone else. In that instant, I somehow felt closer to you; felt that maybe you and I aren't that different after all, only the means to our ends.
Justice has an ironic sense of humour.
iii. Restraint
Restraint isn't a concept that's foreign to Japanese people. We hold our tongue despite how angry our thoughts become. We don't speak up for fear of standing out. Yes, it's something we all know, but I'd never really thought of it as a virtue. What's so wrong with speaking up? How do people expect things to change if they don't do something about it? I'm sure you sometimes wish I had more restraint the way I go ahead and feed your cat, or speak to you when we happen to meet.
But those thoughts come back to haunt me when I find someone waiting at the apartments for you, or is it me he's waiting for? It's Inspector Kashina, and he wants me to tell him something, anything, about you that will help him. I have no idea how much time passes as we just stand there, sizing each other up. My head swims with questions; questions to myself, to him. Would it help you more to be caught? Would that teach you that living for revenge isn't any real way to live?
"I'm sorry. I'm not a prosecutor yet."
In the end, I can't do it. I hold back because while I don't really know what would be best, I know I shouldn't be the one to decide for you. I don't know what will happen to you, or where this dangerous game you play will take you, but I trust you. In that crystalline moment, that fact becomes clear to me, and I learn the full power of restraint.
iv. Courage
One would think that, comparing you to me, I would be the more courageous one. I'm the one who walks into people's offices, lies to their face, and do my best not to crack under pressure. It's a high stakes game, and I play to win. One misstep, one wrong turn, and it could all be over. Sounds pretty intense, huh? But the truth is, that's not real courage. It's the veneer of an imagined one that covers up my real fears. I'm afraid that if I let you get too close, I'm going to lose sight of my revenge, and then what will I have been doing with my life? Can you imagine how scary it would be to suddenly discover that the fire that kept you going for years had gone out? Or rather, been replaced with a different kind of fire. How was it that one person can just appear out of nowhere, and make you re-think your entire life? I can't face that right now, so I just run away.
But you don't. You know exactly what it is I do, and yet you don't give up on me no matter how many times I tell you to. When I see you in that rear-view mirror, waiting for your friend to finish confessing, I can tell from the way you stand that it's not that you're not scared. You are. It's written all over the way you start to peek around the corner, but then decide not to. Some might wonder how on earth I could call this courage. Some might say that if you had any real courage, you'd turn that corner, and tell me to choose you instead. But that's not what I think. You've said it before: you only want my happiness, and it doesn't matter if it's you, Yukari, or someone else. So when I see you standing there, I know it's because you're trusting me - trusting that one of these days I'll choose something that will make me happy. How do you do that? Where do you find the strength to just leave it up to someone else, with only the belief that they'll do the right thing?
Sure, I don't flinch when facing swindlers head on, but I can't even think about my feelings without squirming. So, you tell me who's the courageous one.
v. Faith
Yukari thinks I'm crazy. After all that I've been through, she tells me I should just forget about you. I joke with her that she's only telling me that so she can go after you herself, but she shakes her head. It's been a year now since that day, that terrifying day when I watched you get arrested. Yukari's moved on to other things, throwing herself into the drama club. She's having a great time, so I'm really happy for her. She tells me that I need to do something like that too, something to help me forget.
"Tsurara, you can't keep holing yourself up in the library all the time. How about helping me pass out posters for our play?"
I agree because she's my friend, and find myself, much like the time I had that part-time job handing out tissues, face to face with you again. For a long moment, we don't speak; at least not out loud. Every time our eyes lock, it seems like they have a conversation all their own. In your eyes, I see surprise, fear, and a flash of...something else before you manage to bring your walls back up, and I wonder what you read in mine.
"Yoshida."
"Come see Yukari's play."
It's all I can manage to get out as I shove a flyer at you. You give me this odd half-smile before continuing on your way. I can't help but keep staring after you. I know Yukari thinks I'm crazy, and maybe in the end this will all be for nothing. But I still believe in you.
vi. Hope
Your smile never ceases to amaze me. It's at times graceful, with your lips curving up just enough for me to know that you're happy, your head held high with confidence; and I can see how much you've matured since the first day I met you years ago. At other times, it's childish; the way I know you're about to laugh, that magical sound getting ready to bubble up and overflow. But every time I see it, no matter what form it is, I think your smile is beautiful. Even after everything, you still manage to direct that smile towards me every once in a while, even if I usually don't return the favour. It is at once innocent yet alluring, reminding me of a warm spring breeze that whispers just a hint of the hot summer to come. And as much as I wish it wasn't so, it reminds me of everything that I've lost.
The transition of spring to summer always brings festivals, and this year is no different. Their appeal has long since vanished for me, but they do provide great cover for tracking one's prey. The colour and spectacle make it easy to blend in, and provide ample distractions. There could be no better setting for stalking my ultimate target - Mikimoto. He doesn't see me, doesn't even suspect that the one who is going to bring about his end is just meters away. My revenge feels within my grasp as I look side to side for any of his associates, or even any police. The coast looks clear, but a quick glance to my right reveals something I hadn't expected.
You stand there with a candy apple in your hand, lips tinted pink from the confection. Your hair, now long once again, is pinned back artfully to go along with the dark blue yukata you're wearing. Instead of the smile that I would expect you to be wearing, you have a look of discomfort on your face. It doesn't take more than one second for me to figure out why. There are some young men invading your personal space, and you're doing your best to shrink away from them without being rude.
Before I really know what I'm doing, my legs are carrying me towards you, and I casually wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you against me.
"Hey, Tsurara. Sorry for making you wait. Are these gentlemen bothering you?"
You look from me, to the other guys, and back to me, trying not to look so shocked because you know it will blow your cover with your unwanted admirers. Your lips curl into a shaky smile as you lean against me to try and project the desired illusion.
"No, no. I'm fine. What took you so long?"
I take your hand as you bow politely to the others, telling them that you'll see them in class and hope they enjoy the rest of the festival. It takes all my acting skills to make it look like this is a regular occurrence for us, and I have to remind myself that it was me who made the first move. I glance at our hands, your delicate one laced with my rough one. The image becomes locked in my consciousness, and I can't help thinking that there's more to my life than just revenge. And maybe its not too late for me to recapture some of what I once thought lost.
vii. Love
It's Sunday, and the sun is shining through the window, reminding me that I should be getting up soon. I stare at the curtains blowing gently in the breeze, and think to myself what a far cry this is from the cramped apartment I had as a student. Perhaps the only good thing about it was that it was next to you, though there were days when I didn't think that was such a good thing either. But as many times as you threatened to evict me, or that I said I was saving money to move out, I ended up staying there my entire university career.
You and I have always had our own way of communicating. Like when you'd get my name wrong, it was your way of telling me that you were afraid to get close. When I'd correct you, it was my way of saying that I wasn't going to give up. Despite being a swindler, you've always been surprisingly honest with me, and that's why you caught me so off-guard that day at the festival. I wondered what game you were playing; you, who had always been telling me to stop liking you, now had your arm around me. The look in your eyes told me everything though, and I couldn't help but marvel at how well we'd gotten at reading each other over the years. Little by little, our meetings in the stairwell became less tense, and you allowed yourself to come over for dinner once in a while. There was even a bouquet of flowers that showed up at my door on graduation day, though the card didn't say anything more than 'Congratulations, Tsurara'. Those days seem like an eternity ago.
Done with my reminiscing, I shift a little, getting ready to slip out of bed, but stop when I feel your hand close gently around my wrist.
"...Not yet....stay...."
Your voice is still rough and full of sleep, and you aren't even opening your eyes yet. I want to laugh at what a picture you make - hair completely rumpled and half obscuring your face, lips turned out just slightly in what you will never admit is a pout, eyes shut tight and trying desperately to block out the daylight. The laughter never comes though, replaced instead by a feeling of absolute peace. I brush your hair off your face so I can see you better, and watch you relax into my touch.
"Okay."
I settle back into the protective embrace of your arms, and I hear you sigh contentedly as you bury your face in my hair. My lips curve into a comfortable smile as I let my eyes slip closed, enjoying our many different, and wordless ways of saying 'I love you'.
FIN
From: shy_hinata
Title: Virtues
Pairing: Kurosaki and Tsurara
Rating: G-PG
Summary: Sometimes it takes another person for you to realize the best in yourself.
A/N: Written for the lovely kohee
i. Prudence
I've always been a careful person; I can't help it. After what happened to me and my mother, how can I not be? So, it's quite ironic that I meet you after trying to look out for my cousin and his family. That one fateful day where sheer chance lands me on the subway tracks, and just when I think it's all over, there you are. Even now, I can't seem to wipe away the memory of how your eyes seemed to bore into mine. Not that I'd ever want to forget anyway.
Ever since that day, I wonder what happened to my careful instinct. It's still there, but somehow I'm not listening to it like I should. It tells me to stay away from you, that cheap rent isn't worth it. But when we meet on the stairs, and our eyes lock yet again, I can feel some other force pulling at me. I don't know what it is, but I feel as though there's some way for me to reach you, and how can I just ignore that chance?
In our lecture today, my professor started to get philosophical. Prudence, according to him, isn't just about being cautious. It's about exercising good judgment especially when a difficult choice needs to be made; how one weighs things out for the greater good. He went on about how prudence was the hallmark of a good lawyer, but I think I had stopped listening. As they seem to be doing lately, my thoughts turn to you. Maybe, just maybe, you're the one meant to bring out that trait in me.
ii. Justice
You used to talk about it all the time. Justice. It's what you were going to law school for; so you could see that justice was done, to see that the weak weren't oppressed. I remember laughing at your naive take on things. As if something as complex as justice could be so black and white. I wondered where that left me, someone for whom the justice system had failed. What was the point in trying to "fight fair", or to "do the right thing"? Only people who'd never been hurt could think that. People who live in ivory towers, with sunshine and rainbows. People like you, not me.
I thought you didn't understand anything about me. You seemed to make it very clear from the moment we first spoke. To you, two wrongs couldn't make a right, no matter how futile it was to try and catch the crook. But is that really justice? To allow the guilty ones to stay free, and continue on their merry way, hurting more people in their wake. You looked at me with those big eyes of yours, and I could see you faltering. To your credit, you were honest and told me that you didn't know, but you still didn't think it was right to commit crimes.
You'll never know, but my heart sank the night Katsuragi sold me information about your father. And suddenly it all seemed to fall into place. You didn't have lofty, idealistic goals brought about by reading one too many mystery novels. No, you just didn't want what happened to you to happen to anyone else. In that instant, I somehow felt closer to you; felt that maybe you and I aren't that different after all, only the means to our ends.
Justice has an ironic sense of humour.
iii. Restraint
Restraint isn't a concept that's foreign to Japanese people. We hold our tongue despite how angry our thoughts become. We don't speak up for fear of standing out. Yes, it's something we all know, but I'd never really thought of it as a virtue. What's so wrong with speaking up? How do people expect things to change if they don't do something about it? I'm sure you sometimes wish I had more restraint the way I go ahead and feed your cat, or speak to you when we happen to meet.
But those thoughts come back to haunt me when I find someone waiting at the apartments for you, or is it me he's waiting for? It's Inspector Kashina, and he wants me to tell him something, anything, about you that will help him. I have no idea how much time passes as we just stand there, sizing each other up. My head swims with questions; questions to myself, to him. Would it help you more to be caught? Would that teach you that living for revenge isn't any real way to live?
"I'm sorry. I'm not a prosecutor yet."
In the end, I can't do it. I hold back because while I don't really know what would be best, I know I shouldn't be the one to decide for you. I don't know what will happen to you, or where this dangerous game you play will take you, but I trust you. In that crystalline moment, that fact becomes clear to me, and I learn the full power of restraint.
iv. Courage
One would think that, comparing you to me, I would be the more courageous one. I'm the one who walks into people's offices, lies to their face, and do my best not to crack under pressure. It's a high stakes game, and I play to win. One misstep, one wrong turn, and it could all be over. Sounds pretty intense, huh? But the truth is, that's not real courage. It's the veneer of an imagined one that covers up my real fears. I'm afraid that if I let you get too close, I'm going to lose sight of my revenge, and then what will I have been doing with my life? Can you imagine how scary it would be to suddenly discover that the fire that kept you going for years had gone out? Or rather, been replaced with a different kind of fire. How was it that one person can just appear out of nowhere, and make you re-think your entire life? I can't face that right now, so I just run away.
But you don't. You know exactly what it is I do, and yet you don't give up on me no matter how many times I tell you to. When I see you in that rear-view mirror, waiting for your friend to finish confessing, I can tell from the way you stand that it's not that you're not scared. You are. It's written all over the way you start to peek around the corner, but then decide not to. Some might wonder how on earth I could call this courage. Some might say that if you had any real courage, you'd turn that corner, and tell me to choose you instead. But that's not what I think. You've said it before: you only want my happiness, and it doesn't matter if it's you, Yukari, or someone else. So when I see you standing there, I know it's because you're trusting me - trusting that one of these days I'll choose something that will make me happy. How do you do that? Where do you find the strength to just leave it up to someone else, with only the belief that they'll do the right thing?
Sure, I don't flinch when facing swindlers head on, but I can't even think about my feelings without squirming. So, you tell me who's the courageous one.
v. Faith
Yukari thinks I'm crazy. After all that I've been through, she tells me I should just forget about you. I joke with her that she's only telling me that so she can go after you herself, but she shakes her head. It's been a year now since that day, that terrifying day when I watched you get arrested. Yukari's moved on to other things, throwing herself into the drama club. She's having a great time, so I'm really happy for her. She tells me that I need to do something like that too, something to help me forget.
"Tsurara, you can't keep holing yourself up in the library all the time. How about helping me pass out posters for our play?"
I agree because she's my friend, and find myself, much like the time I had that part-time job handing out tissues, face to face with you again. For a long moment, we don't speak; at least not out loud. Every time our eyes lock, it seems like they have a conversation all their own. In your eyes, I see surprise, fear, and a flash of...something else before you manage to bring your walls back up, and I wonder what you read in mine.
"Yoshida."
"Come see Yukari's play."
It's all I can manage to get out as I shove a flyer at you. You give me this odd half-smile before continuing on your way. I can't help but keep staring after you. I know Yukari thinks I'm crazy, and maybe in the end this will all be for nothing. But I still believe in you.
vi. Hope
Your smile never ceases to amaze me. It's at times graceful, with your lips curving up just enough for me to know that you're happy, your head held high with confidence; and I can see how much you've matured since the first day I met you years ago. At other times, it's childish; the way I know you're about to laugh, that magical sound getting ready to bubble up and overflow. But every time I see it, no matter what form it is, I think your smile is beautiful. Even after everything, you still manage to direct that smile towards me every once in a while, even if I usually don't return the favour. It is at once innocent yet alluring, reminding me of a warm spring breeze that whispers just a hint of the hot summer to come. And as much as I wish it wasn't so, it reminds me of everything that I've lost.
The transition of spring to summer always brings festivals, and this year is no different. Their appeal has long since vanished for me, but they do provide great cover for tracking one's prey. The colour and spectacle make it easy to blend in, and provide ample distractions. There could be no better setting for stalking my ultimate target - Mikimoto. He doesn't see me, doesn't even suspect that the one who is going to bring about his end is just meters away. My revenge feels within my grasp as I look side to side for any of his associates, or even any police. The coast looks clear, but a quick glance to my right reveals something I hadn't expected.
You stand there with a candy apple in your hand, lips tinted pink from the confection. Your hair, now long once again, is pinned back artfully to go along with the dark blue yukata you're wearing. Instead of the smile that I would expect you to be wearing, you have a look of discomfort on your face. It doesn't take more than one second for me to figure out why. There are some young men invading your personal space, and you're doing your best to shrink away from them without being rude.
Before I really know what I'm doing, my legs are carrying me towards you, and I casually wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you against me.
"Hey, Tsurara. Sorry for making you wait. Are these gentlemen bothering you?"
You look from me, to the other guys, and back to me, trying not to look so shocked because you know it will blow your cover with your unwanted admirers. Your lips curl into a shaky smile as you lean against me to try and project the desired illusion.
"No, no. I'm fine. What took you so long?"
I take your hand as you bow politely to the others, telling them that you'll see them in class and hope they enjoy the rest of the festival. It takes all my acting skills to make it look like this is a regular occurrence for us, and I have to remind myself that it was me who made the first move. I glance at our hands, your delicate one laced with my rough one. The image becomes locked in my consciousness, and I can't help thinking that there's more to my life than just revenge. And maybe its not too late for me to recapture some of what I once thought lost.
vii. Love
It's Sunday, and the sun is shining through the window, reminding me that I should be getting up soon. I stare at the curtains blowing gently in the breeze, and think to myself what a far cry this is from the cramped apartment I had as a student. Perhaps the only good thing about it was that it was next to you, though there were days when I didn't think that was such a good thing either. But as many times as you threatened to evict me, or that I said I was saving money to move out, I ended up staying there my entire university career.
You and I have always had our own way of communicating. Like when you'd get my name wrong, it was your way of telling me that you were afraid to get close. When I'd correct you, it was my way of saying that I wasn't going to give up. Despite being a swindler, you've always been surprisingly honest with me, and that's why you caught me so off-guard that day at the festival. I wondered what game you were playing; you, who had always been telling me to stop liking you, now had your arm around me. The look in your eyes told me everything though, and I couldn't help but marvel at how well we'd gotten at reading each other over the years. Little by little, our meetings in the stairwell became less tense, and you allowed yourself to come over for dinner once in a while. There was even a bouquet of flowers that showed up at my door on graduation day, though the card didn't say anything more than 'Congratulations, Tsurara'. Those days seem like an eternity ago.
Done with my reminiscing, I shift a little, getting ready to slip out of bed, but stop when I feel your hand close gently around my wrist.
"...Not yet....stay...."
Your voice is still rough and full of sleep, and you aren't even opening your eyes yet. I want to laugh at what a picture you make - hair completely rumpled and half obscuring your face, lips turned out just slightly in what you will never admit is a pout, eyes shut tight and trying desperately to block out the daylight. The laughter never comes though, replaced instead by a feeling of absolute peace. I brush your hair off your face so I can see you better, and watch you relax into my touch.
"Okay."
I settle back into the protective embrace of your arms, and I hear you sigh contentedly as you bury your face in my hair. My lips curve into a comfortable smile as I let my eyes slip closed, enjoying our many different, and wordless ways of saying 'I love you'.
FIN