harmonize_rpg | (no subject)

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imaizumi mirai

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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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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."

Mirai saw it was time for some quick thinking. "Why not? I'm a caring guy," he said. "It's not the best time, sure - but I'm checking on you all the same. Some people would pay me for that."

"I doubt that," Ryouya replied. His words were intercut with the light clinking and splashing from the sink as he worked. "That would require taking an interest into matters outside yourself."

Clink.

"That would be you, though. Offer you enough money and you'll do anything."

Mirai listened to the clatter of knives and forks as his father washed them, and thought the noise was far louder than he could remember. Then Ryouya picked up a plate and splashed it with water. He began to feel like he could no longer block each sound, and started to warm in the face. He looked vacant behind his eyes - more than Ryouya would remember.

"....."

Ryouya noticed the silence but didn't comment. He finished washing his dishes at his own pace and, once he was finished, poured himself another cup of coffee, finishing the pot. He took a sip and continued, as though Mirai wasn't sulking at the table,

"Remember to wash up before you go and be home for five. If you regularly check in your your grandparents and me, you'll find they're less inclined to expect you to volunteer to spend time with them."

Mirai, who had some awareness of when his father implied things, wished he could be rid of each new threat. But it was clear that Ryouya was not going to drop the matter. It caused him to rub his forehead.

"Very well. Five it is." Or rather, five minutes to seven. "Are you admitting to blackmailing me, then?"

Edited 2013-11-03 08:51 (UTC)

"Five PM sharp," Ryouya clarified. In response to the question, he didn't seem bothered at the accusation in the slightest.

"This is coming from someone who implies extortion every argument?" Sip. "I'm only reminding you to spend your time off wisely."

"Yes, I see," Mirai said. He was succinct as his father when he wanted to be. He was also disappointed his interpretation of time had been seen through easily.

"Then I suppose you're going to make me play cards again?"

"Yes, unless your grandfather wants to play mahjong," Ryouya replied. "The usual rules and play."

Which meant that everyone would be cheating each other senseless.

"I see," Mirai said again. He was still dizzy from the last time his grandparents had worked together to fleece him.

He was in no rush to repeat the experience. "I can just sit there and not do anything, right?"

"No. That wouldn't be entertaining," Ryouya replied.

"Get better if you don't like losing all the time."

Mirai, who had no great desire to be anybody's entertainment, thought that possibly he could work with his father first and cheat his grandparents afterwards. But it was such a horrid thing to think about that he was forced to think he was quite mad for suggesting it.

"Ah - then you should improve at being a good son instead of dumping grandma on me all the time," he bristled.

Edited 2013-11-03 10:04 (UTC)

Always so melodramatic. Ryouya wiped one of his lens as the steam rose.

"Your grandmother likes spending time with you. I'm with her much more than you are. I haven't run off to ditch her the moment a walking pair of breasts went by yet, which is more than you can say."

At the accusation, Mirai slid down from apparently lounging on his stool - and Ryouya would find his eyes fixed on the back of his head.

"Oh my. You're just jealous that I make women interested in me," he said derisively. "How about asking yourself for a moment why mum left? You told me that it wasn't anything to do with me, right? Well then, why don't you tell me what you did that drove her off? Or is that going to be my fault as well?"

That accusation drew a look as Ryouya put down his coffee. He was leaning back on the counter, gripping it slightly, as he replied evenly,

"You keep asking but the answer won't change. She left because she ended up chasing after some toy." He added, critically, "Which you apparently picked up from her."

Mirai's smile thinned, but he said strongly, "That's just an excuse. She's not been around for years. Strange that you should blame her for most of my problems when she wasn't even here."

A shrug. "I wasn't even chasing girls till I was fifteen. You've got to admit I've got good taste," he added, referring to the intern. "And if only she was around then you could have blamed her for that too."