"Brat, the next time somebody asks you to save 'em, just sic me on 'em." Niya is a bad person, a fact they know. Not one to get attached to others. Still, the Traveler is about the only person alive who Niya actually considers a Living Person and not a fancy toy to be used. Maybe she's getting soft. Either way ā it's annoying, to watch the world make use of the hero. More annoying is the way that Aether so often says yes. And without even getting paid!
He could certainly benefit from picking up a few traits from his amoral jackass bestie, Niya. "I'll attack them like a wild animal, and they'll never ask you for anything again."
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@piliyi : I promise, I'm fine. I just look tired a lot, thanks toā¦ the tiredness. / rokushi moment ! / accepting.
"Roxas!" Her tone is that of a scolding girlfriend, but there's a faint laugh in her voice ā it's not funny, exactly, except that she gets it, and she imagines it's probably the same for both of them. All three of them. All of them, everyone she knows suffering in some quiet way that doesn't show on the good days but never goes away. It's not funny that Roxas is always tired, any more than it's funny that Xion is always tired. But being around Roxas makes Xion smile, and being around Xion makes Roxas smile, too. Doesn't make the tiredness go away, but reminds them both there's space for more. "That's not comforting!"
It isn't funny, that his hair is extra - mussed and his eyebags are extra - bad, except that her hair is only presentable because Olette did it for her this morning and her eyebags are only a few degrees off from bruise - like. It isn't funny that they're both the result of unfathomable cruelty and abuse and it isn't funny that it's taken Xion so many months and so much kindness and so many tears to even call it that, except that they're still here, and they're so much like the teenagers they were built to be. And it's ā it's good, maybe. That Roxas can be tired but alive? Or that the bad things that make him tired, or her tired, can still ache and ache without killing them. That they get to be alive, even if it's still bad, some days, some weeks? Months?
"The good news is that I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to spend a few nights at my apartment? I haven't been sleeping very good either, and I always sleep better with you." It's good, that she can say this without being afraid of being a burden. It's good, that they sleep better when they're together. It's good, that they can be tired and together.
It's good, that today the bad thing happening to Roxas is tired instead of dead or dying because of Xion.
ā i had no idea the view from up here would be so breathtaking. ā ok imagine. timeskip iwaoi but theyre BOTH pro vball players on the same team (idc which one. you can decide<3) and they just won gold haha <- person whos always hated that hajime didnt go pro
when hajime announced that he was going overseas with tooru, tooru had thought he meant it in an oblique way, as in: iām going overseas too, but to a different country; or, iām going overseas with you, to study bio-engineering at the nearby university ā which would have been more out of left field than what actually happened, but since that hypothetical turned out to be off base, there was no point dwelling on it.
(so maybe leaving japan felt like running away a little bit. maybe he felt a little guilty about dragging hajime through years of volleyball. not that guilty, obviously, since hajime clearly enjoyed playing, even if it wasnāt to the same degree that tooru enjoyed it. or so he thought.)
what tooru needed to process was the fact that hajime had chosen to pursue a career as a volleyball player. in a professional league. on the same team tooru had made plans to join. in argentina.
at that time, heād felt a little like his spotlight got stolen, but hajime had never shown signs of wanting the sort of attention that tooru craved, so tooru supposed he could be generous in this case and learn to share.
ādumbass,ā he could imagine hajimeās voice running commentary on his thoughts, a fond note threading through it as he says, not unkindly, āstop thinking the world revolves around you.ā
when the time came to go, tooru thought theyād burst onto the scene like a display of fireworks, dazzling everyone with their skills and unbeatable teamwork. hajime, more realistically, told him that he was being stupid and theyād only just lit the match, not even the fuse.
āfireworks fizzle out and die almost immediately, anyway.ā ā iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru wrangler and best friend.
he hates to admit it, but hajime mightāve had a point. between living in a country he could barely communicate in and playing with a professional team who were leagues above him in hindsight, tooru had been woefully underprepared and immediately overwhelmed by ā¦ well, for lack of a better word ā life.
still, when he boiled it down to the microcosm of the two of them, itād taken them no time at all to settle in and figure out a routine. tooru suspects that he wouldāve been worse off without hajime by his side, which was a stupid thing to doubt from the beginning since it was a foundational principle of the universe that they were better together, but he was especially thankful for his best friend in this specific phase of his life.
the thing about them is this: tooru keeps shooting for the stars, hajime keeps him grounded. they were icarus and someone icarus shouldāve had around, probably, because tooru may not have wings of wax but he was prone to burnout all the same, and hajime was a rational person who had twenty years of experience dealing with tooru. the point is that however they worked, they worked.
(sometimes, he wonders if hajime would have come to argentina if not for him. and then hajime kicks his ass at practice, which leaves tooru with other things to worry about, like keeping up with his best friend who he may potentially have dragged here and was now showing him up, the ungrateful son of a lovely pair of mothers.)
but life goes on. tooru grows up. he stops begrudging hajime his moments of being right, too occupied by the list of worries that refused to stop growing. practice continued to be grueling, matches were always unpredictable and therefore stress inducing, hajime remained by his side.
(sometimes, he wondersā¦)
the world may not revolve around me, tooru thinks to himself, but iwa-chan, sometimes it feels like you do.
time passes. at some point and despite the lack of conscious input, tooru has a paradigm shift. he doesnāt know when he reached this particular conclusion: maybe he woke up one day with it, or maybe it struck him at training, or maybe he was scrolling through social media one day and read an inspirational quote that led him to the thought:
if hajime came here because of me, then i have to take him all the way to the top.
the worries shifts into resolve.
āas long as weāre together,ā tooru remembers a younger version of himself saying, writing their names out next to each other, āweāre invincible.ā
when it happens, tooru doesnāt remember the time that passed in detail, can only recall snapshots of moments, hajime by his side in every significant portrait.
āi had no idea the view from up here would be so breathtaking.ā hajime admits, flushed with joy and pride and victory.
when it happens, it feels like everything else pales into insignificance. because what happens is this, in order of importance: hajime is by his side. they lift the trophy into the air, and itās not like fireworks at all. the feeling doesnāt dissipate or fizzle out, instead solidifying into a mass of satisfaction, not unlike resolve. their eyes meet, an ace and his setter.
iwa-chan, he thinks as his mind works rapidly to process the new paradigm shift, maybe iāve been revolving around you all along, too.
āi told you iād bring you here,ā tooru grins, filing that thought away for later. he wraps an arm around hajime, keeping him close. āand weāre not done yet. this is just lighting the match, remember?ā
the coin slides smoothly across his knuckles, almost lazy in its motion. a flick of his thumb, returning it to the beginning of the cycle. a snap to hold it in place. the motion ends; his gaze sharpens, focuses in on the new face at the barās counter.
foreigner, he clocks immediately from the outfit, not from anywhere i can place. that, in itself, bore meaning. it narrowed down the possibilities of their origin and expanded the probability of aventurine finding a use for them. the gambler calculates the odds, even though he already knows the answer deep in his gut. it says, thereās someone worth keeping an eye on. for better or for worse, aventurine already knows it will be the most interesting option open to him for the night. and this has always been true: whichever way fate decides to swing, the odds will be in his favour.
his approach is by no means quiet. polished shoes tap against marble floors as aventurine makes his way toward the bar to take the open seat beside the stranger. āyouāve certainly chosen an interesting time to visit, my friend. the festival ended not too long ago, the familyās still recovering from the mess that went downā¦ ah, but i suppose these kind of things will attract its own kind of attention. buy you a drink?ā
you think i canāt tame that? / ok karuta!au taien and theyre at a compeition surveying all the competitors. this is kaien looking @ his lineup opponents.
not for the first time since kaien joined the karuta club, taichi finds himself thankful for the steady presence he provides. taichi may be the appointed captain, but he knows that heās always been more of a follower, if not reluctantly dragged into things outright. itās easier to feel confident when someone else around him is, and kaien makes it easy.
āconfidence is very becoming on you,ā taichi says instead of answering, having been immediately distracted away from observing the competition by kaienās remark. the crowdās noise dims to a low hum in the background, and for a brief moment, taichi allows himself to bask in kaienās composure. it doesnāt last long ā taichi canāt allow the distraction to last, being captain and all ā but it helps center him, and thatās enough.
taichi grins, squares his shoulders as he leads the team forward into the hall. ābut letās try not to bully them too hard. chihaya might feel bad about it.ā
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let it be said that tooruās never claimed to be a guy who handles rejection well. most of the time itās not enough of a reason to deter him from trying, but thereās always a little part of him that braces himself even in the asking.
so heās hesitant, (heās never done this before. he hasnāt even considered all the ways this could go wrong,) but. thereās something about kaien that makes him want to take that risk. itās a kind of optimistic hope that heās learned to let go of through the years, and it reaches back for him.
when akechi had first discovered the club, heād been drawn in by its music, the grand piano catching his eye immediately as he entered. the atmosphere was relaxing and just what he needed, he found, and the dim lighting suited his intention to remain inconspicuous. from there it was only natural progression that akechi became a regular. the table next to the piano wasnāt reserved for him, exactly, but jazz jin had a select enough clientele that the other patrons had established their own preferred seats, and there was an unspoken consensus that any rocking of the boat would not be well received.
there was something about kurusu, though, that akechi didnāt feel that inclination to put on a mask and shy away from at that first meeting. so maybe he was playing a game of chicken on his own, approaching the then-stranger with the intention of intimidating him away from his table (however unofficial), but kurusu had been more than willing to take akechiās dismissal at face value. (granted, heād been passive aggressive about it, saying āoh, itās no matter, iām sure we can shareā when he meant āi was here first, get your own tableā.)
and then, equally naturally, to akechiās considerable bewilderment as to how it happened, kurusu carved a space for himself at akechiās table.
where before heād glanced first at the stage to see if he recognized the singer, these days akechi finds his gaze pulled to his usual table, searching for that familiar face that had now come to accompany it, and somehow, by the time he realized it, whether or not kurusu was there determined his mood for the day.
today, heās pleased to see the familiar mop of dark hair already there.
āi hope you havenāt missed me too much,ā akechi says with a light smile, setting his briefcase down before taking his seat, āā¦just kidding, of course. i know we havenāt agreed to a schedule for meeting up, but i do feel sorry about disappearing all of a sudden. itās finals week, and you know how busy it gets around this time, haha.ā
itās not the first time heās fished for information from kurusu, and at this point, akechi recognizes it as a game theyāre playing, to see how little each side can give in this game of tug-of-war. āah, i didnāt mean to make the conversation about me. what about you? have you been dropping by the club as often these days?ā
"Used t'scare me." The words are a hum against his strong jaw, the assassin ā sharp, constructed, a knife with flesh grown round it ā positively soft where she lays against his chest. "You, I mean. 'Specially once I told y'my name. Couldn't imagine ya stickin' around." She pushes herself up so she can see him properly, grin laviscious and eyes glittering. "You don't scare me any more, though. I got y'pegged. I know you won't leave. Beca ā ause ā" Their head dips again, this time towards his mouth; she breathes the words, playful and almost giggling, into the kiss, like they're schoolyard children sharing gossip, "You li ā ike me!"
