harmonize_rpg | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"And yet, you resemble her easily," Ryouya retorted, ignoring the barb. He continued, with a pointed look,

"But your inner self is apparently the seductive devil so maybe all those flaws are just you."

Something fluttered over the face behind Mirai's calm expression.

He had been keeping a firm lid on the anger underneath it all. Now he felt frustration bubbling through, but then it was gone so swiftly that he was left tired and in need of a gentle pair of hands to stop him breaking apart.

"Well then, just what flaws are you trying to fix here? Better the devil you know, right?"

He caught the old man's need to fix something; but he was perfect as he was, just as good as anybody else.

Seeing that fluttering of something on Mirai's face caused an assured smile to spread on Ryouya face. Another sign of proof he had control.

"Why settle for the devil when you can reform him?" Ryouya asked. "Even the devil has to play nice to get what he wants. The world's not a nice play otherwise."

Mirai caught the self-satisfaction of his father's smile. Which enraged him even more. He raised his hand and spread his thumb and forefinger to rub his forehead.

"Sure. I'll play nice. You'll give me twenty thousand yen for the trouble, then?"

He leaned back with a wry smile, and on the inside he was planning to rest and gather thoughts.

"Anything for money," Ryouya pointed out with a critical glance, but the smug look of someone who'd gotten affirmation.

"500 yen. Don't complain. That'll get you a coffee and a snack if you spend it wisely and you'll be home for dinner anyway."

Mirai ended his opposition with a moan as the coin slid along the counter ahead of what seemed to be a self-satisfied smile. Behind the table, his father spared a moment to meet his gaze and he could not avoid it anywhere. Defeat seemed to come from the room itself and he slumped lazily against the counter.

"Righto." His lips pressed together. "Except you don't trust me to be here for dinner, right? Might as well put a tracking device on me or something."

Ryouya took another drink from his coffee, and leaned back against the counter. Comfortable, confident, and victorious.

"Too cumbersome. I have connections that can help me if I really need to find and drag you home."

Such as that GPS-Phone tracker app.

"Really?" asked Mirai. "I don't want to accuse you. It's odd that you didn't mention them till now."

He finished speaking with an expression that was dead and showed he had no trouble believing his father's story was utter bullshit.

He took another sip, and there was that smug, confident knowing look again. What was worse was that he sounded completely truthful as he replied,

"If only you knew."

Mirai's lips thinned. He had no trouble disbelieving his father's claim of syndicate connections.

He said assuredly, "I see. That's how you got to the top, huh? So you didn't work hard at all?" He seemed quite eager to have an excuse to be lazy.

"Contrary to what you might hope, no," Ryouya replied. He put his mug down and looked at Mirai with a piercing look.

"You don't get anything in life if you aren't willing to work for it and to keep it. Connections and resources happen because of that work. Even a philanderer like you should know toys don't just come to you."

"Right."

His father was droning on so much that the advice he offered was out of mind. He had no difficulty understanding the hidden threat. His jaw clenched. He knew that if he said anything at the time he might well have been grounded, and he refused to permit that to happen.

"Are you finished?" he asked, staring off into space.

"For now," Ryouya said with a note of finality. Even if Mirai still didn't listen, he'd drill it in over and over until it did.

He picked his coffee back up and began walking towards the living room where his laptop was. He barely turned back to remind Mirai,

"Remember, five o'clock sharp."

"Right," Mirai said. He didn't say much after.

Ryouya might have been talking from the hall, but Mirai was already behind him when he entered the living room. And their paths separated at that moment. He pulled his coat on again, taking it from where it lay on the rack. He took his bag, and shut the door behind him without worrying about the noise.