firstlight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstlight) wrote2005-11-25 07:41 am
firstlight) wrote2005-11-25 07:41 am
Entry tags:
[PoT] AU: Gentleman and Trickster (part 4)
Author: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
giving_ground
Title: Gentleman and Trickster (Part 4 of... some?)
Theme and Number: 3 - Put Your Happy Face On or Smile
Genres: angst (still technically cyberpunk, but...)
Warnings/Disclaimers: Not mine. AU, obviously.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: NiouxYagyuu (I have an apology to make on this front. Yes, it's Niou x Yagyuu. It's also fairly strongly Yukimura x Sanada for this one section, hard as I tried to keep them less central. They wouldn't take no for an answer.)
Rating: PG
Summary: A part of my Cyberpunk story, but something of an interlude before the action continues. A look at the dynamics of rikkai, I suppose. (Or, "excuse me, I was having a flashback." ;) )
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
The three of them, on their way to see Yanagi. Niou could almost imagine nothing had changed, could almost believe that when they arrived Yukimura would be there too, quiet and smiling, with Sanada beside him. Niou would make inappropriate jokes or pull some foolish trick, and Sanada would stare at him, but Yukimura would laugh and touch the stern man’s arm gently, and Sanada would have to fight to suppress a smile of his own, though of course he would manage. Yanagi would act like he wasn’t watching the two of them interact, keep working like nothing was happening, but he would be content.
But Yukimura wouldn’t be there, and it wouldn’t be like that. It hadn’t been for some time, now. Things changed. He’d learnt that, they all had, and painfully; but back then they’d believed that maybe things could last. Niou barely thought about it, could pretend it didn’t matter, could will the memories to leave him alone and avoid reliving the hurt, most of the time. Every time he saw Yanagi, though, he had to ask the question. Almost the same words every time; a variation on the same answer in response. Over and over again. He knew Yagyuu wanted to ask but wouldn’t; so he asked for both of them.
They’d come together in a way which could seem like an accident, but which probably hadn’t been. They had been younger, new to the game, and all more or less alone; Niou and Yagyuu had found each other again by that stage, just, but everyone else drifted in one at a time, until the group was a definite entity which they would all say they belonged to, not without a trace of pride. Of course, it had been Yukimura who started it, in a way which seemed kind and thoughtful and almost certainly hid some other motive, if only anyone could work out what it was; it was Yukimura’s involvement, certainly, which led Niou to believe that none of it had been accidental. Very little Yukimura did was accidental. Beautiful, distant Yukimura, who drew everyone in towards him, though they could never quite reach far enough to touch him -- only Sanada had managed that. Yukimura, who shone brighter than they ever could, made everything seem to matter more.
They needed to watch out for one another, he had said. If they could watch out for each other and push one another onward then they would be the strongest there were, the very best. They had been in their late teens, and some of them had been idealistic, and believed it; the rest had found themselves drawn along with it almost despite themselves. Because of Yukimura. Whatever their differences, he was the link between them.
To the surprise of some, it had worked. rikkai had been a strong group, small but firmly united, more trusting of one another than Hyoutei, and highly skilled. Yukimura was their public face, while Sanada took care of mundane, practical things. Yukimura had not asked him to, but no-one could imagine their almost ethereal leader performing such tasks himself. Yanagi, in the background, had built up contacts until eventually all he had to do much of the time was wait, and information he wanted would come to him. Everyone else -- Niou and Yagyuu, Marui and Jackal, and strange little Kirihara -- had been agents of those three, really. Mostly, though, they had been Yukimura’s.
They had smiled more, then. Yukimura smiled like the world was his, and Sanada smiled at Yukimura, when he thought no-one was watching. Yanagi smiled absently, his mind somewhere else. Yagyuu barely smiled even then, but if you could read the slight curve of his lips there was a world of meaning there, and Niou had enjoyed watching it, covertly, as Sanada watched Yukimura. Yagyuu never returned the favour as Yukimura did, though, that he was aware of; he’d chosen to assume that it would simply take time, and that if they could ever come to that sort of understanding it would be very different to what Yukimura and Sanada shared.
That had been the lightest point in Niou’s life for years, after the loss of Yagyuu when he was fourteen (forever, as he supposed at the time), after he finally let go and allowed himself to slip far enough to get thrown out of school, after his father made it clear that he wanted nothing more to do with him. After he’d begun to scrape a living for himself on the streets. With rikkai, there was a support network, there was friendship, and a sense of belonging. He spent most of his time in Yagyuu’s presence, periodically amazed that he’d been allowed what looked like a second chance to make things work with the man, even if it might eventually become obvious that they would only be friends. He should have known, really, that it was too good to last.
When Niou was twenty, about to turn twenty-one and just beginning to feel something like genuine happiness, genuine confidence, Yukimura had vanished. One day, he simply wasn’t there. No explanation, no trace. He might as well not have existed any more, and rikkai, deprived of his light, crumbled. It wasn’t immediate, but as time passed, it became obvious that they couldn’t last much longer as a solid unit. They were good, but not the way they had been. Sanada was distracted, in despair, entirely lost without the man he had come to care for so deeply; Yanagi spent all his time hunting frantically, pulling in favours, using any means he could to find news of their leader. Nothing had worked. A year on, and Niou knew that Yanagi still tried, every day. They had almost no hope left, any of them, but Yanagi couldn’t bring himself to give up, and Niou didn’t blame him. He suspected it was as much for Sanada’s sake as anything else. In any case, until or unless Yukimura returned, rikkai was a thing of the past. They still worked together, from time to time, but they weren’t a unit any more. Niou didn’t even know what had become of Marui or Jackal, and knew of Sanada’s fortunes only through Yanagi, who rarely said more than the minimum, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Maybe never,” he had told them earlier. It must have killed him a little more inside to even voice that truth.
Yanagi, Niou, Yagyuu, Kirihara. That was what was left, really. They didn’t smile so much, and when they did it wasn’t the same. Yanagi smiled carefully, deliberately, without emotion. Kirihara’s smile carried a dangerous edge, a hint of something deeply unpleasant at work under the surface, usually suppressed -- it had been far better hidden, once, but that had been Yukimura’s work too. Niou had needed to relearn how to read Yagyuu’s near-invisible smiles, which had vanished altogether for a time. His own smile was usually wild, a little savage, and had nothing to do with anything he might be feeling. He couldn’t even begin to imagine Sanada smiling now.
It didn’t help matters that everyone they dealt with knew what had happened, too, and treated them with something like pity, or something like scorn. It stung, either way. They were broken as a group, and nothing was as good as it had been, but individually they could still stand, and they could still fight. All they wanted, realistically, was to be able to carry on with their lives, and pretend (though this would always inspire a deep sense of guilt, as though they were betraying Yukimura even after everything) that nothing was wrong.
And now, the three of them were going to meet with Yanagi, who would be waiting for them alone. When Niou stole a glance at Yagyuu as they were walking and caught Yagyuu stealing a glance back, it gave him a quick flare of elation; but underneath it was a kind of confused sadness, forcing its way to the surface after too long hidden away. Somehow, the little moment of light only reminded him of how much everyone he knew had lost.
Part 5
giving_groundTitle: Gentleman and Trickster (Part 4 of... some?)
Theme and Number: 3 - Put Your Happy Face On or Smile
Genres: angst (still technically cyberpunk, but...)
Warnings/Disclaimers: Not mine. AU, obviously.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: NiouxYagyuu (I have an apology to make on this front. Yes, it's Niou x Yagyuu. It's also fairly strongly Yukimura x Sanada for this one section, hard as I tried to keep them less central. They wouldn't take no for an answer.)
Rating: PG
Summary: A part of my Cyberpunk story, but something of an interlude before the action continues. A look at the dynamics of rikkai, I suppose. (Or, "excuse me, I was having a flashback." ;) )
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
The three of them, on their way to see Yanagi. Niou could almost imagine nothing had changed, could almost believe that when they arrived Yukimura would be there too, quiet and smiling, with Sanada beside him. Niou would make inappropriate jokes or pull some foolish trick, and Sanada would stare at him, but Yukimura would laugh and touch the stern man’s arm gently, and Sanada would have to fight to suppress a smile of his own, though of course he would manage. Yanagi would act like he wasn’t watching the two of them interact, keep working like nothing was happening, but he would be content.
But Yukimura wouldn’t be there, and it wouldn’t be like that. It hadn’t been for some time, now. Things changed. He’d learnt that, they all had, and painfully; but back then they’d believed that maybe things could last. Niou barely thought about it, could pretend it didn’t matter, could will the memories to leave him alone and avoid reliving the hurt, most of the time. Every time he saw Yanagi, though, he had to ask the question. Almost the same words every time; a variation on the same answer in response. Over and over again. He knew Yagyuu wanted to ask but wouldn’t; so he asked for both of them.
They’d come together in a way which could seem like an accident, but which probably hadn’t been. They had been younger, new to the game, and all more or less alone; Niou and Yagyuu had found each other again by that stage, just, but everyone else drifted in one at a time, until the group was a definite entity which they would all say they belonged to, not without a trace of pride. Of course, it had been Yukimura who started it, in a way which seemed kind and thoughtful and almost certainly hid some other motive, if only anyone could work out what it was; it was Yukimura’s involvement, certainly, which led Niou to believe that none of it had been accidental. Very little Yukimura did was accidental. Beautiful, distant Yukimura, who drew everyone in towards him, though they could never quite reach far enough to touch him -- only Sanada had managed that. Yukimura, who shone brighter than they ever could, made everything seem to matter more.
They needed to watch out for one another, he had said. If they could watch out for each other and push one another onward then they would be the strongest there were, the very best. They had been in their late teens, and some of them had been idealistic, and believed it; the rest had found themselves drawn along with it almost despite themselves. Because of Yukimura. Whatever their differences, he was the link between them.
To the surprise of some, it had worked. rikkai had been a strong group, small but firmly united, more trusting of one another than Hyoutei, and highly skilled. Yukimura was their public face, while Sanada took care of mundane, practical things. Yukimura had not asked him to, but no-one could imagine their almost ethereal leader performing such tasks himself. Yanagi, in the background, had built up contacts until eventually all he had to do much of the time was wait, and information he wanted would come to him. Everyone else -- Niou and Yagyuu, Marui and Jackal, and strange little Kirihara -- had been agents of those three, really. Mostly, though, they had been Yukimura’s.
They had smiled more, then. Yukimura smiled like the world was his, and Sanada smiled at Yukimura, when he thought no-one was watching. Yanagi smiled absently, his mind somewhere else. Yagyuu barely smiled even then, but if you could read the slight curve of his lips there was a world of meaning there, and Niou had enjoyed watching it, covertly, as Sanada watched Yukimura. Yagyuu never returned the favour as Yukimura did, though, that he was aware of; he’d chosen to assume that it would simply take time, and that if they could ever come to that sort of understanding it would be very different to what Yukimura and Sanada shared.
That had been the lightest point in Niou’s life for years, after the loss of Yagyuu when he was fourteen (forever, as he supposed at the time), after he finally let go and allowed himself to slip far enough to get thrown out of school, after his father made it clear that he wanted nothing more to do with him. After he’d begun to scrape a living for himself on the streets. With rikkai, there was a support network, there was friendship, and a sense of belonging. He spent most of his time in Yagyuu’s presence, periodically amazed that he’d been allowed what looked like a second chance to make things work with the man, even if it might eventually become obvious that they would only be friends. He should have known, really, that it was too good to last.
When Niou was twenty, about to turn twenty-one and just beginning to feel something like genuine happiness, genuine confidence, Yukimura had vanished. One day, he simply wasn’t there. No explanation, no trace. He might as well not have existed any more, and rikkai, deprived of his light, crumbled. It wasn’t immediate, but as time passed, it became obvious that they couldn’t last much longer as a solid unit. They were good, but not the way they had been. Sanada was distracted, in despair, entirely lost without the man he had come to care for so deeply; Yanagi spent all his time hunting frantically, pulling in favours, using any means he could to find news of their leader. Nothing had worked. A year on, and Niou knew that Yanagi still tried, every day. They had almost no hope left, any of them, but Yanagi couldn’t bring himself to give up, and Niou didn’t blame him. He suspected it was as much for Sanada’s sake as anything else. In any case, until or unless Yukimura returned, rikkai was a thing of the past. They still worked together, from time to time, but they weren’t a unit any more. Niou didn’t even know what had become of Marui or Jackal, and knew of Sanada’s fortunes only through Yanagi, who rarely said more than the minimum, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Maybe never,” he had told them earlier. It must have killed him a little more inside to even voice that truth.
Yanagi, Niou, Yagyuu, Kirihara. That was what was left, really. They didn’t smile so much, and when they did it wasn’t the same. Yanagi smiled carefully, deliberately, without emotion. Kirihara’s smile carried a dangerous edge, a hint of something deeply unpleasant at work under the surface, usually suppressed -- it had been far better hidden, once, but that had been Yukimura’s work too. Niou had needed to relearn how to read Yagyuu’s near-invisible smiles, which had vanished altogether for a time. His own smile was usually wild, a little savage, and had nothing to do with anything he might be feeling. He couldn’t even begin to imagine Sanada smiling now.
It didn’t help matters that everyone they dealt with knew what had happened, too, and treated them with something like pity, or something like scorn. It stung, either way. They were broken as a group, and nothing was as good as it had been, but individually they could still stand, and they could still fight. All they wanted, realistically, was to be able to carry on with their lives, and pretend (though this would always inspire a deep sense of guilt, as though they were betraying Yukimura even after everything) that nothing was wrong.
And now, the three of them were going to meet with Yanagi, who would be waiting for them alone. When Niou stole a glance at Yagyuu as they were walking and caught Yagyuu stealing a glance back, it gave him a quick flare of elation; but underneath it was a kind of confused sadness, forcing its way to the surface after too long hidden away. Somehow, the little moment of light only reminded him of how much everyone he knew had lost.
Part 5