harmonize_rpg | (no subject)

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imaizumi mirai

(no subject)

Who: Ryouya and Mirai.
Where: Kyoto.
When: Tuesday, May 2nd, early morning.
What: An unavoidable conversation.

Mirai kept a quiet foot on the stairs, but still they creaked underneath. It might have woken up the entire house. It took him a moment to climb down their steep steps - and on several times did he certainly remain still and teeter and tense, which he stopped by bracing himself by spreading his hands on the walls. It took him a long time to get to the bottom. Then he was off, showing no regard for the generations of feet that had passed first.

He began to search for the umbrella stand. He helped himself to a small parasol and hooked the handle over his arm. Then he picked up a coat, tying up the belt first, and then searching the pockets with his fingers. And he found a couple of coins. He threw his rucksack against his back when he lifted it from the floor, and still he just stood there. He was twisting back. He could hear the noise of his father moving in the kitchen. Cupboard doors and footfalls and boiling water. The radio was switched on, which was what had drawn his attention.

He groaned, then quietly headed towards the front door. A conversation was all he needed.

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Ryouya rarely slept past six, except on a very special day. He'd had two since they'd arrived but by the third day of their arrival he was back to form.

His parents were still sleeping, so for now Ryouya had the kitchen to himself. He had the radio on to a retro station, the newspaper on the table, some eggs and bacon on the skillet, and he took his time preparing the coffee he'd brought with him.

It would have been a peaceful morning, if he hadn't heard what he knew was Mirai. If there was one thing the old house was good for it was making sure everyone knew where everyone was. He could have let Mirai just go on his way but Mirai already had two days of freedom, which was more than generous with putting up with his sulking and attempts at pretending he didn't exist. It wasn't good to encourage that for too long.

He waited until Mirai was near the front door before calling out, "Good morning, Mirai."

Mirai sighed and rolled his head back towards the kitchen. He was quite as thrilled about being together as his dad was. "Morning," he said. Ryouya would hear, even through the loud chatter of the radio, the unbolting of the chain and the rattle of keys. Mirai was leaving. He raised his hands and groped blind - his fingers were unbolting the front door.

"Don't wait up."

Ryouya waited until he heard the unbolting of the door, before he said, voice firm,

"Now hold on. We've barely talked since the airport. I think you can spare for breakfast with me." He knew Mirai and the offer of food was the first hook. The second was his curiosity and need to know, which he threw out with, "You won't have time later today, either."

Mirai turned round after his father. He stirred uneasily, having no trouble understanding his invitation. He had little shivers running the length of his back, and for the first few seconds he stood hushed and still like the house was alone with only Ryouya in the kitchen. There was no doubt about heading straightforward into what seemed like a trap - because he was sly and canny and couldn't be pinned down to anything.

Wearily he let go and sidled back to the kitchen. Whatever he was, he was certainly at least hungry. And, simply, here was the breakfast he would use as fuel to explore the whole city. The eggs were scrambled, and their smell made his nose wrinkle like he wanted to vanish.

He blinked morning sleep out of his way. Then sat with a tired moan and waited expectantly like he was to be fed. His eyes shrunk into a couple of frowning lines, but began to open again.

"I'm busy," he whined from his place at the table. "What do you want?" At each syllable, anyone could tell how he didn't want to spend more time with his grandma.

Ryouya didn't answer immediately. He remained focused on the skillet and his own business, stopping only long enough to wipe some of the steam from his glasses. There was a confident smile on his face that either was the look of someone who was a morning person or someone who had everything exactly where he wanted it.

Finally, he scrapped the eggs onto two plates, which already had bacon on it. He picked them up and turned to Mirai, saying simply,

"To remind you of some things. Such as, be home for five since you have to be at the bingo hall again with your grandmother and her friends."

"Fine. I'll be home at five," Mirai cried out dejectedly. He spoke with such a wicked thought in his eye that his dad might well tell he meant five-to-eight.

After that, he simply took the plate and sequestered it so fast that his father could not object, before the bacon could go anywhere else.

Ryouya tsk'd and looked at Mirai reproval. "Don't snatch things. You could at least try to pretend you have restraint."

He sat down with his own plate and poured some ketchup over his eggs. "This week might be good practice for that before you go back to school."

The mention of Chitoku brought Mirai back to earth. With a bump. He could not think why his father wanted him back there. When he looked up from his plate the older man wasn't even watching him. He was thoroughly disinterested. No, he could not think of any good reason.

"... Okay. Why should I return there?" Mirai asked, almost snapping. "It's not like you're watching out for me, right?"

"I'm always watching out for you," Ryouya corrected easily. He took a bite out of his eggs and then, after tasting it, added a bit more pepper to it. Another bite confirmed it was perfect and he continued eating.

"Unless you intend to become a drop out, of course you're going back."

Mirai muttered under his breath then, speaking so vile and with great hatred. Then he picked up the salt and sprinkled it over his own eggs and bacon, and even added a dollop of ketchup halfway through. When his father looked up he would be there watching.

"Yeah. Gotta get good grades for university, right?"

Despite the muttering and the 'fucker' comment that Ryouya heard under Mirai's breath, he simply pointedly, "Don't mumble."

He took a sip of his coffee, which was more expensive than most coffee chains could afford, let alone people. "Well, it's the only way you'll get in anywhere. You can always go off and make your own fortune instead." He smiled, with a knowing edge.

Mirai snatched up the pepper. Peers at school did not see him respond to authority in this fashion. He was not very sure how to answer, either. His father was observant, and more elegant. And by now he was rather silent about the words his son had used - and Mirai was watching him for any response. Though he was silent, it was clear he was very angry indeed. A cold, rather piercing glare came from his side of the table.

"I told you that I always land on my feet, right?" He tapped the pepper over his bacon, sounding brave and looking it. He looked at the coffee with a curious eye. "I have to observe you brought that from home. I also have to observe that's kind of sad. Why are you drinking crap?"

From Ryouya's side of the table, was more of that cool elegance that didn't flinch at the angry, piercing stare on the other side of the table. Always dramatic.

"I brought it for your grandparents," Ryouya replied, taking another sip. "They actually quite enjoy it too. There's more in the pot if you want any."

Sure enough, there was still half a pot left. He went up to pour another mug when he added, more firmly,

"I know about your ability to land on your feet. It sounds like you didn't wait even a week to start establishing a new collection of toys."

"Alas," Mirai said, "I can't help it if people give themselves over to me. Bored office ladies are always looking for a spot of fun."

He produced a nice smile from his cold character, and sat calmly slicing the bacon to eat for himself.

"Yes, but you don't hesitate to take." Ryouya's tone comes out sharper, much like a well-placed arrow. He sat back down and took another drink. However, his eyes were also sharper behind his glasses.

"Bored office ladies can't vote you off captaincy after you screw around too much either. How long was it before archery became a rumor mill for your escapades? From what I heard, it wasn't even more than a day."

Mirai did not wait for Ryouya to end the lecture. He reclined in his seat, where he stared at him and smiled. Of course the other man had pulled his chain, but that didn't mean he couldn't tug a little.

"Two days," he said mildly. "There's always some rumour about my life. Some people are just talked about more than others."

He did not wait for any reply, and went on behaving as though this was the more exciting talk he'd had in ages. "Hey, are you just jealous? Is that the case?"

Ryouya, meanwhile, seemed unamused. Little tugs could only be allowed so far before you had to yank them right back into place. He ignored the jab and went right for to business,

"And some people are sadly desperate for any sort of attention. That's only useful until it burns out and you've lost everything. How useful is it going to be when you go from charming, flirtatious captain to a useless horndog former captain? Those rumors stick and you have a year left."

Mirai sighed and tapped his forehead. He was used to being told what he was and where he was going. And he was asserting himself against that - with his hand resting on his side. There was a confused expression on his face as he tried to figure out what to say all at once.

When he did, his face lit with a delighted smile. He replied, "A year left of fighting for my country. I am almost indispensable, I say. And people underestimate me. But you know what that's like."

Edited 2013-10-28 10:44 (UTC)

"Almost but not quite," Ryouta replied. "They would consider it a shame to get rid of a prospective subject but it's not as though they don't have a whole pool to try from and if not that, they'll manage.

"It does mean pulling you out will be harder. So if you screw up this place, you'll be stuck with it all year. Which might give you some misguided petty satisfaction at first but I won't be the one living with the consequences, ill-feelings, reduced bank account and tattered image. Do you understand?"

Nothing was said then, either immediately or for a while. Determinedly, he went on to thinking of other problems he could create. Behaviour kinder than his father could remember, and trust. That seemed to be the best he could manage. It took him no time to get it past his lips.

"Yes, I see," he said quietly. He leaned across the counter with a pair of folded arms. Their conversation almost seemed to be over, but when it was nearly so he raised his head a little. "May I ask why you did it?"

It made him nervous to ask such a question about why he had been sent to Chitoku. Because he would see he was right and that he was alone in hoping about it.

Ryouta speared a piece of bacon and took his time finishing it. It wasn't hesitance or even guilt. It was more the person in control of the situation controlling it at his leisure. Only once he was finished, he looked up across the table and replied,

"Come now, I'm sure you've already built up enough reasons for yourself. For country, for impartiality, for your own good, you can decide which suits you best. But it wouldn't do well for your classmates' impressions to leave them all now."

Ryouya was as aware as Mirai was. Mirai might act out but he wouldn't ruin things for himself casually.

Mirai stared at him. He could hear that it was beyond his father to understand him. So he thought only of himself and how best he might get some wealth out this situation. He had tried to understand and even asked for help, but now saw a brick wall that was blocking him before he could walk anywhere. No longer did he worry. He only gave the mildest of shrugs.

"... Nope. And I'll actually make a friend there one day."

He meditated on this. His grin turned into a heavy half-smile and, busy man that he was, he continued to eat his breakfast.

"Someone who isn't a 'special friend'?" Ryouya commented dryly.

He finished the last of his breakfast and began draining his coffee.

Mirai understood why his father said this. He leaned back in his chair, doing nothing to help, and put on a bit of charm.

"May I ask why you listen to my voicemail without leaving even one message?" he asked.

"I left one asking you to change it," Ryouta pointed out simply. "You didn't change it so you either heard it and didn't care or you deleted it."

The last of the coffee done, he stood and carried his dishes to the sink. "You seem to prefer making late night phone calls anyway."