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(it's been three months since apollo had been without a coach. three months ago that someone came up, seemingly innocent, a lazy smile and a simple introduction of "hi, i'm mr. wright, and i need to help kristoph gavin with something". maybe if apollo had been a little more hesitant, a tad more suspicious, and not just taken it at face value that two well known coaches were friends, perhaps he wouldn't be in the situation he is now. rather than aide, instead it was found just how horribly kristoph had treated his skaters. overworking them, even through injuries, talking down to them if they made mistakes or even tried skating in their own way. his definition of "perfect" seemed to rely more on the skaters following his every command, instead of them improving upon their own abilities.
no one could deny his skaters were good. with more caring coaches, maybe a little therapy, surely they'd all be on their way to skating on the ice again, without the threat of punishment looming over their heads.
but apollo? he'd been with kristoph for such a sort time, he might as well have still been in training. not quite molded into a "kristoph gavin copy", a little coin name used to whisper about them in secret. not that it was ever hard for apollo to point them out. he was at least lucky no one knew the truth behind the matter, that apollo might as well have handed phoenix wright everything he needed to completely deface kristoph gavin as a coach. that he was tricked, like some naive child still far too trusting in the world.
so he could handle the whispers, the secretive talks about how kristoph's former skaters seemed "broken", needing far more help to be more expressive in their skating. the man himself had vanished from the skating world after being discredited, in a swirling, explosive rage somehow kept under that icy cold composure. so the public went after the next best target. the ones still in the public eye.
most of the other skaters either took a break, or managed to find a coach who'd seen their abilities and promise a more fulfilling career. but apollo? he didn't find himself so lucky. never having even performed a program, most saw him as the raw little child who might have taken after his former coach the most. after all, none of the other coaches he'd interviewed stuck around for long.
then again, that was out of his control. they all handled him so delicately, unsure of how to even proceed with his training when most of himself was such a mystery to the world. a young rookie skater under kristoph's tutelage with no idea of his abilities? they honestly didn't even seem to try that hard with him. so he gave up. returned to the rink, but as a solo skater, hoping he'd maybe be able to develop his own skills as best he could, then return to the search for a coach. hard to compete without one, after all.
but even for him, the looks and talks and rumors all became too much over time. the only one who'd still stuck around, hadn't moved onto somewhere else. he was by no means bitter towards the skaters. after learning what happened to them, he was more than glad to see them pursue proper skating careers. they'd worked far too hard not to at least have that much. he saw them off with smiles and well wishes.
so instead, he'd taken to skating at night. after hours, with a few grateful favors called into one of the employees. he could play his own music, go at his own pace, not worry what the skaters on the other side were saying.
this time around, it's different. he stops when he enters the open rink before even setting his gear down, the sound of blades slicing across ice. he stares in awe for a time, no longer than a few seconds, before his face falls and he begins packing up his skates. ah. he should've figured someone would wise up and realize the best times to skate. there's a soft, bitter mumble to himself as he hoists his bag over his shoulder, shuffling towards the exit.) Whatever. Just won't skate today.
no one could deny his skaters were good. with more caring coaches, maybe a little therapy, surely they'd all be on their way to skating on the ice again, without the threat of punishment looming over their heads.
but apollo? he'd been with kristoph for such a sort time, he might as well have still been in training. not quite molded into a "kristoph gavin copy", a little coin name used to whisper about them in secret. not that it was ever hard for apollo to point them out. he was at least lucky no one knew the truth behind the matter, that apollo might as well have handed phoenix wright everything he needed to completely deface kristoph gavin as a coach. that he was tricked, like some naive child still far too trusting in the world.
so he could handle the whispers, the secretive talks about how kristoph's former skaters seemed "broken", needing far more help to be more expressive in their skating. the man himself had vanished from the skating world after being discredited, in a swirling, explosive rage somehow kept under that icy cold composure. so the public went after the next best target. the ones still in the public eye.
most of the other skaters either took a break, or managed to find a coach who'd seen their abilities and promise a more fulfilling career. but apollo? he didn't find himself so lucky. never having even performed a program, most saw him as the raw little child who might have taken after his former coach the most. after all, none of the other coaches he'd interviewed stuck around for long.
then again, that was out of his control. they all handled him so delicately, unsure of how to even proceed with his training when most of himself was such a mystery to the world. a young rookie skater under kristoph's tutelage with no idea of his abilities? they honestly didn't even seem to try that hard with him. so he gave up. returned to the rink, but as a solo skater, hoping he'd maybe be able to develop his own skills as best he could, then return to the search for a coach. hard to compete without one, after all.
but even for him, the looks and talks and rumors all became too much over time. the only one who'd still stuck around, hadn't moved onto somewhere else. he was by no means bitter towards the skaters. after learning what happened to them, he was more than glad to see them pursue proper skating careers. they'd worked far too hard not to at least have that much. he saw them off with smiles and well wishes.
so instead, he'd taken to skating at night. after hours, with a few grateful favors called into one of the employees. he could play his own music, go at his own pace, not worry what the skaters on the other side were saying.
this time around, it's different. he stops when he enters the open rink before even setting his gear down, the sound of blades slicing across ice. he stares in awe for a time, no longer than a few seconds, before his face falls and he begins packing up his skates. ah. he should've figured someone would wise up and realize the best times to skate. there's a soft, bitter mumble to himself as he hoists his bag over his shoulder, shuffling towards the exit.) Whatever. Just won't skate today.
Edited 2017-01-05 04:51 (UTC)
[Klavier Gavin. The prodigal younger brother of the genius skater Kristoph Gavin.
By no means a 'nobody' to professional skating, the 'angel on ice' as his fans referred to him was no stranger to the news. After all, he'd been one of the first under Kristoph Gavin's training, finding it rather easy to get advice from your older brother instead of a strange coach. He'd only been about 6 or 7 at the time...
And not even he was exempt from the media panic as news broke out of his brother's tactics. Of the awful training regiments and insults that accompanied every practice. Everyone thought he knew his brother best. Questions like 'Were you shocked to find this out about your former mentor?' Every interview, every microphone shoved in his face, Klavier could only respond with a smile and 'No Comment'. Because honestly, everything that had been said was already said. He didn't need to rehash his own history and drown out the current victims'.
So here he was, finding solace in the only way he can--alone. Sure, he'd been free from his brother's clutches since he was 18, refusing to skate in a way that didn't let him express himself. Choosing to be seen as a failure in his brother's eyes over perfect and unhappy. Here he was skating at late hours into the night, sweet-talking the woman behind the counter into letting him stay as long as it took to get everything out of his system.
She happily obliged.
A twirl, a toe loop, a spin. They all merged into one specific thought, letting Klavier drift away from reality for just a moment as his blades glide across the glasslike surface. He was so lost in thought that Apollo's presence may have gone completely unnoticed, if not for one of his spins to send his eyes casting in the direction of the exit.
...The boy would have been completely unrecognizable if not for those two little hair strands sticking up. That was...that was one of Kristoph's students, right? Ex-students, he corrects, making his way over to the ledge to call out to him.]
Achtung!
Did you want the rink?
By no means a 'nobody' to professional skating, the 'angel on ice' as his fans referred to him was no stranger to the news. After all, he'd been one of the first under Kristoph Gavin's training, finding it rather easy to get advice from your older brother instead of a strange coach. He'd only been about 6 or 7 at the time...
And not even he was exempt from the media panic as news broke out of his brother's tactics. Of the awful training regiments and insults that accompanied every practice. Everyone thought he knew his brother best. Questions like 'Were you shocked to find this out about your former mentor?' Every interview, every microphone shoved in his face, Klavier could only respond with a smile and 'No Comment'. Because honestly, everything that had been said was already said. He didn't need to rehash his own history and drown out the current victims'.
So here he was, finding solace in the only way he can--alone. Sure, he'd been free from his brother's clutches since he was 18, refusing to skate in a way that didn't let him express himself. Choosing to be seen as a failure in his brother's eyes over perfect and unhappy. Here he was skating at late hours into the night, sweet-talking the woman behind the counter into letting him stay as long as it took to get everything out of his system.
She happily obliged.
A twirl, a toe loop, a spin. They all merged into one specific thought, letting Klavier drift away from reality for just a moment as his blades glide across the glasslike surface. He was so lost in thought that Apollo's presence may have gone completely unnoticed, if not for one of his spins to send his eyes casting in the direction of the exit.
...The boy would have been completely unrecognizable if not for those two little hair strands sticking up. That was...that was one of Kristoph's students, right? Ex-students, he corrects, making his way over to the ledge to call out to him.]
Achtung!
Did you want the rink?
[ December 31st, 11:59 PM. The news anchor on TV is announcing the start of the New Year's countdown, but her voice is quiet -- they lowered the volume after the last of the excited team members fell asleep waiting for midnight. With Tenma and Shinsuke piled on their Amagi-pillow and covered in a blanket so they don't get cold and Kirino retiring to some corner between a booshelf and the window to curl up in, it's just the two of them that are still awake.
So much for wishing each other a happy new year together, but with how excited and rowdy they'd gotten earlier in the night, it was no wonder that a bunch of twelve and thirteen year olds would reach the end of their stamina. Shindou smiles to himself as he watches Kariya roll over and smack Hikaru across the face with a snore, enjoying how crowded his house is for once. He didn't invite these people over enough.
With thirty seconds left, according to the announcer, he crosses the room to sit next to Tsurugi (closer than they would during the day when everyone at school could see), eyes still on the television screen. He shifts, and their arms touch. Twenty seconds.]
Tsurugi. [He looks away from the screen to face the other boy, speaking low enough that none of the other boys stir, waiting for the boy to look this way. Fifteen. Ten. By now there's no need to look at the screen because he can hear the announcer counting down second by second, and with each passing moment he can feel the embarrassment threatening to build up. He's going to be so embarrassed if anybody wakes up and catches him doing this. They won't hear the end of this. Eye contact is enough to make his face burn up.
Three. He reaches up to place his hand at the back of Tsurugi's head, fingers weaving through short strands of dark hair. Two. He tugs, bringing their faces closer. One, and he leaves a very quick, very light, but very unmistakable kiss on the other's lips.
There's cheering from the television, the popping sound of crackers. They're only cheering for the start of the new year, but right now it feels a little like the applause is for them and his courage. How embarrassing. But he did it!]
H-happy new year, Tsurugi.
So much for wishing each other a happy new year together, but with how excited and rowdy they'd gotten earlier in the night, it was no wonder that a bunch of twelve and thirteen year olds would reach the end of their stamina. Shindou smiles to himself as he watches Kariya roll over and smack Hikaru across the face with a snore, enjoying how crowded his house is for once. He didn't invite these people over enough.
With thirty seconds left, according to the announcer, he crosses the room to sit next to Tsurugi (closer than they would during the day when everyone at school could see), eyes still on the television screen. He shifts, and their arms touch. Twenty seconds.]
Tsurugi. [He looks away from the screen to face the other boy, speaking low enough that none of the other boys stir, waiting for the boy to look this way. Fifteen. Ten. By now there's no need to look at the screen because he can hear the announcer counting down second by second, and with each passing moment he can feel the embarrassment threatening to build up. He's going to be so embarrassed if anybody wakes up and catches him doing this. They won't hear the end of this. Eye contact is enough to make his face burn up.
Three. He reaches up to place his hand at the back of Tsurugi's head, fingers weaving through short strands of dark hair. Two. He tugs, bringing their faces closer. One, and he leaves a very quick, very light, but very unmistakable kiss on the other's lips.
There's cheering from the television, the popping sound of crackers. They're only cheering for the start of the new year, but right now it feels a little like the applause is for them and his courage. How embarrassing. But he did it!]
H-happy new year, Tsurugi.
aka adventures of the socially clueless
[Liocott Island had a well-deserved reputation for being prepared. It had more than enough rooms to house every team, allowing for a few guests and potential replacements. But what its precise layout lacked was spare buildings, and when Orpheus's was compromised...
Suddenly all of that exact planning had its downsides. Inazuma Japan had stepped up to house them until a more permanent solution could be arranged. Essentially, that meant that all of them would be sharing rooms. Before any attempt of random arrangement could be suggested, some of them, Kidou included, had immediately stated who they intended to stay with.
Kidou figured Sakuma wouldn't mind. While it's true that Kidou would have just as easily shared space with Gouenji - the probability that Endou would have ultimately driven him nuts in that small a shared space was high enough to dismiss the idea - Sakuma was Teikoku. He seemed the obvious choice.
After all, regardless of any understandings, Kidou was fairly certain neither of them was going to enjoy staying with the other person from Teikoku. Whoever ended up with Fudou, it wouldn't be them.]
Sorry to impose.
[It's more a routine statement than deeply felt sentiment. Having already changed in the shower, Kidou arrived in the room he and Sakuma were to share for that night already prepared for bed.
The real reason for the comment was that these rooms have only one bed each. And while Kidou's not going to sleep on the floor, it's still a little strange to be quite that close to someone. Even when they were traveling in the bus, he'd had the ability to claim his own personal space.
It can't be helped. Kidou hesitates only as long as it takes to do some mental calculations about the bed's dimensions and just how much space he could feasibly take before lying down. Regardless of housing, they had a lot of work to do that next day. It wouldn't be long until their next match, and Kidou had no illusions about their current chances.]
Suddenly all of that exact planning had its downsides. Inazuma Japan had stepped up to house them until a more permanent solution could be arranged. Essentially, that meant that all of them would be sharing rooms. Before any attempt of random arrangement could be suggested, some of them, Kidou included, had immediately stated who they intended to stay with.
Kidou figured Sakuma wouldn't mind. While it's true that Kidou would have just as easily shared space with Gouenji - the probability that Endou would have ultimately driven him nuts in that small a shared space was high enough to dismiss the idea - Sakuma was Teikoku. He seemed the obvious choice.
After all, regardless of any understandings, Kidou was fairly certain neither of them was going to enjoy staying with the other person from Teikoku. Whoever ended up with Fudou, it wouldn't be them.]
Sorry to impose.
[It's more a routine statement than deeply felt sentiment. Having already changed in the shower, Kidou arrived in the room he and Sakuma were to share for that night already prepared for bed.
The real reason for the comment was that these rooms have only one bed each. And while Kidou's not going to sleep on the floor, it's still a little strange to be quite that close to someone. Even when they were traveling in the bus, he'd had the ability to claim his own personal space.
It can't be helped. Kidou hesitates only as long as it takes to do some mental calculations about the bed's dimensions and just how much space he could feasibly take before lying down. Regardless of housing, they had a lot of work to do that next day. It wouldn't be long until their next match, and Kidou had no illusions about their current chances.]
[It was brightly lit, loud, and full of people getting into his personal space. People he didn't know entering his personal space without a thought or care. Why this? What did he actually do to deserve this? There's a reason he did his shopping during certain days and certain times, and this...chaos is one of the main reasons.
To those that can actually speak Genda the frown and the way he leans as much as he can away from touching anyone or anything, while still being rooted to his spot is pretty much the same as someone else wringing their hands or pacing.]
"It looks busy."
[Translation. Please don't make him actually have to go in there. He promises to atone for whatever it is you're punishing him for.]
To those that can actually speak Genda the frown and the way he leans as much as he can away from touching anyone or anything, while still being rooted to his spot is pretty much the same as someone else wringing their hands or pacing.]
"It looks busy."
[Translation. Please don't make him actually have to go in there. He promises to atone for whatever it is you're punishing him for.]
[Perhaps he should worry more, as a brother. Even if it was that Gouenji Shuuya, practice that kept Kyousuke out this late, coming back this bruised and battered, and away from his teammates -- as an older brother, maybe it was his job to stop it.
But who is he kidding? It's Inazuma Japan's Gouenji Shuuya, the man they admired and emulated all the time. And while Kyousuke bore all the signs of a tough, difficult training session, and it wasn't practice with Raimon, there was a light in his eyes that he hadn't seen in years. The Fiery Striker had lit a flame in his brother's heart. How could he take that away?
When Kyousuke arrives at the hospital, Yuuichi is ready. He smiles from the hospital bed, setting down the book he was reading, and reaches for the bowl of warm water and first aid box he had one of the nurses bring for him.
As a brother, it was his job to make sure his hardworking brother was taken care of.]
Welcome back, Kyousuke.
But who is he kidding? It's Inazuma Japan's Gouenji Shuuya, the man they admired and emulated all the time. And while Kyousuke bore all the signs of a tough, difficult training session, and it wasn't practice with Raimon, there was a light in his eyes that he hadn't seen in years. The Fiery Striker had lit a flame in his brother's heart. How could he take that away?
When Kyousuke arrives at the hospital, Yuuichi is ready. He smiles from the hospital bed, setting down the book he was reading, and reaches for the bowl of warm water and first aid box he had one of the nurses bring for him.
As a brother, it was his job to make sure his hardworking brother was taken care of.]
Welcome back, Kyousuke.
Edited 2017-01-17 06:23 (UTC)
catch all for whatever the fuck you want
which is apparently stupid text convos
which is apparently stupid text convos
The rules are simple. You gotta get this ball into--[A point to the hoop with his finger, long arm extended out.]--that basket. The hard part? Making it around me.
[Ibuki wasn't really sure where this guy came from--space, probably. He'd seen a lot of weird aliens in his time with Inazuma Japan, so it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. But the guy was pretty jolly, and at the mention of basketball ('basketbull' as he'd punned, he's such a dad) they soon found themselves playing a little one-on-one.]
Here, I'll show you.
[Ibuki wasn't really sure where this guy came from--space, probably. He'd seen a lot of weird aliens in his time with Inazuma Japan, so it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. But the guy was pretty jolly, and at the mention of basketball ('basketbull' as he'd punned, he's such a dad) they soon found themselves playing a little one-on-one.]
Here, I'll show you.
[He's sleepy. Riku always runs on less sleep than he should, especially for how active he is, but today he's feeling more run-down than normal. Every now and then he crashes -- it seems to him this is one of those days. He had meant to go meet Kaneda for lunch, but instead he's still in his bed, curled up under the covers. His phone is on the bed next to his pillow and he's typing with one finger lazily.]
Do me a favour and come pick me up?
[Maybe he can motivate him into getting out of his bed. Something occurs to him and he taps out another text, grunting in frustration when he makes a typo and has to slowly backspace it.]
also, can you bring some coffee or something
[That'll do, right? Not romantic, but he highly doubts Kaneda is going to mind.]
Do me a favour and come pick me up?
[Maybe he can motivate him into getting out of his bed. Something occurs to him and he taps out another text, grunting in frustration when he makes a typo and has to slowly backspace it.]
also, can you bring some coffee or something
[That'll do, right? Not romantic, but he highly doubts Kaneda is going to mind.]
[Kaneda was already up and going--something about Bull walking through the halls saying he successfully made bacon (it was cooked... a little too mch) had gotten him out of bed and lazily making tea when he gets the text. It was a little early for Riku to be texting for the meetup, but the message says it all.
A pickup? He could swing that.
A finger drags itself to the Japanese keyboard, typing out what he wants to say before letting the comm itself translate and send.]
yeah sure be there in a few
[A look at his untouched tea, then a look back at the text.]
does tea work
A pickup? He could swing that.
A finger drags itself to the Japanese keyboard, typing out what he wants to say before letting the comm itself translate and send.]
yeah sure be there in a few
[A look at his untouched tea, then a look back at the text.]
does tea work
[He doesn't know Sakuma from Teikoku that well. Kidou's old teammate, a midfielder whose hair spread out behind him as he ran, let loose to catch the wind unlike Kazemaru's own thick ponytail. He remembers him from Shin Teikoku, and apparently he'd shown up to help Raimon in the battle against Aliea, but that was after Kazemaru left the team. Having had lost the chance to speak with him like the others had, Kazemaru had hung back, allowing more extroverted members like Endou, Midorikawa, and Tsunami to smother out any necessities for him to step up and interact.
Sakuma and Kidou were busy baring their teeth at Fudou, anyway. As far as Kazemaru is concerned, he should probably be grateful they don't turn to him, the former captain of Dark Emperors, with the same animosity. He couldn't laugh in the face of adversity like Fudou could.
However... in this case, he can't just ignore it what's happened.
It was Endou's idea for them all to exchange numbers at the beginning of Inazuma Japan. For once, it was an incredibly reasonal, incredibly logical suggestion from Captain Guts and Passion. Every member had the name, phone number, and e-mail addresses of the others. That didn't mean they all freely conversed with each other, and Kazemaru's never received a message from this teammate before.
Sakuma must have been in a rush and didn't scroll down far enough on his contact list. "Ka" came right before "ki," after all.]
Subject: Re: sports Equipment shop this Saturday
Sender: Kazemaru Ichirouta
Message:
Sakuma.
This is Kazemaru. I just wanted to let you know I think you sent this to me accidentally. You probably meant to send it to Kidou right?
Sakuma and Kidou were busy baring their teeth at Fudou, anyway. As far as Kazemaru is concerned, he should probably be grateful they don't turn to him, the former captain of Dark Emperors, with the same animosity. He couldn't laugh in the face of adversity like Fudou could.
However... in this case, he can't just ignore it what's happened.
It was Endou's idea for them all to exchange numbers at the beginning of Inazuma Japan. For once, it was an incredibly reasonal, incredibly logical suggestion from Captain Guts and Passion. Every member had the name, phone number, and e-mail addresses of the others. That didn't mean they all freely conversed with each other, and Kazemaru's never received a message from this teammate before.
Sakuma must have been in a rush and didn't scroll down far enough on his contact list. "Ka" came right before "ki," after all.]
Subject: Re: sports Equipment shop this Saturday
Sender: Kazemaru Ichirouta
Message:
Sakuma.
This is Kazemaru. I just wanted to let you know I think you sent this to me accidentally. You probably meant to send it to Kidou right?
[Sometimes, you make a decision because it feels right deep in your guts, and while you don't doubt it one bit you also wonder, why the fuck you made that decision you did. You get infected by the Endouism, the virus of Friendship and Compassion fails to leave you after a dozen god damn years, and suddenly you're back from playing pro in Europe to help the rude research some shady activity going on in Japan, camping on a sketchy island where a bunch of kids were being put through abusive soccer bootcamp, and then you're learning that most of these kids have absolutely nowhere to go or anyone to rely on after the island is shut down.
And then you're talking to Endou and Kidou who talk to Kiyama (Kira, or whatever) back in Tokyo and then it's 7PM in the evening as one of Kidou's drivers drop you off in front of your apartment with one of those island soccer players next to you like a stray cat you picked up in an alley on a rainy day. The kid -- Hakuryuu -- doesn't exactly resist as he leads him up to his third-floor apartment room, but Fudou has no doubts that the guy would rather be anywhere but here. Or perhaps he'd rather not be anywhere. He couldn't exactly blame him for feeling that way, if that were the case. He'd come out some literal hell, after all.
Fudou doesn't touch Hakuryuu. He speaks in brief sentences, suggestions and explanations rather than the commanding tone he tended to take with anybody else.
This isn't exactly immediately after the incident at the island. No, it's been a couple weeks since those days -- the island had to be shut down first, the children had to be put back into the system first, and Fudou had to work with Kiyama and the Sun Garden so that he wasn't just housing a teenage child illegally. What that meant was that it gave him time to prepare, so when the lights are turned on and the front door is closed behind them, he's able to turn to Hakuryuu and say,]
Use these. [A pair of indoor slippers is placed on the wooden floor in front of him.] You wanna take a bath or something? Did you even take a shower after you got to the mainland? I got you PJs.
And then you're talking to Endou and Kidou who talk to Kiyama (Kira, or whatever) back in Tokyo and then it's 7PM in the evening as one of Kidou's drivers drop you off in front of your apartment with one of those island soccer players next to you like a stray cat you picked up in an alley on a rainy day. The kid -- Hakuryuu -- doesn't exactly resist as he leads him up to his third-floor apartment room, but Fudou has no doubts that the guy would rather be anywhere but here. Or perhaps he'd rather not be anywhere. He couldn't exactly blame him for feeling that way, if that were the case. He'd come out some literal hell, after all.
Fudou doesn't touch Hakuryuu. He speaks in brief sentences, suggestions and explanations rather than the commanding tone he tended to take with anybody else.
This isn't exactly immediately after the incident at the island. No, it's been a couple weeks since those days -- the island had to be shut down first, the children had to be put back into the system first, and Fudou had to work with Kiyama and the Sun Garden so that he wasn't just housing a teenage child illegally. What that meant was that it gave him time to prepare, so when the lights are turned on and the front door is closed behind them, he's able to turn to Hakuryuu and say,]
Use these. [A pair of indoor slippers is placed on the wooden floor in front of him.] You wanna take a bath or something? Did you even take a shower after you got to the mainland? I got you PJs.
[Tsurugi was one of Raimon's taller members, despite his age. In fact, he was probably just under Sangoku, Amagi being the only one to trump them both. It meant that people (see: Tenma Matsukaze) often sought him out for warmth when the months got colder, and while Tsurugi was one who would deftly avoid the jump tackles and physical contact, he often made a few exceptions to the rule.
Nishizono Shinsuke was one such exception.
With snow coming down outside, it would be awhile before Tsurugi could walk home, and that meant bundling up for warmth on the sofa until the flakes stopped falling. Tsurugi didn't mind--like stated, Shinsuke was an exception to the rule, his bright disposition and cheerful nature working its way underneath the strong, stoic heart of Tsurugi Kyousuke and finding its home there. Much like Shinsuke himself had found his home in Tsurugi's lap.
A blanket wrapped around them both like a cocoon, Tsurugi crosslegged and Shinsuke sitting right on top of his ankles as his arms wrap around the boy like seatbelt straps, holding the blanket firmly in place.]
Jurassic Park?
[Never really one to say too much all at once, Tsurugi's question is brief and to the point, but his tone as gentle and warm as a fire. He's of course, referring to the movie that was just put on the tv, Japanese subtitles turned on to help them with some English practice. Shindou would be proud.]
Going back in time just wasn't enough of an experience?
Nishizono Shinsuke was one such exception.
With snow coming down outside, it would be awhile before Tsurugi could walk home, and that meant bundling up for warmth on the sofa until the flakes stopped falling. Tsurugi didn't mind--like stated, Shinsuke was an exception to the rule, his bright disposition and cheerful nature working its way underneath the strong, stoic heart of Tsurugi Kyousuke and finding its home there. Much like Shinsuke himself had found his home in Tsurugi's lap.
A blanket wrapped around them both like a cocoon, Tsurugi crosslegged and Shinsuke sitting right on top of his ankles as his arms wrap around the boy like seatbelt straps, holding the blanket firmly in place.]
Jurassic Park?
[Never really one to say too much all at once, Tsurugi's question is brief and to the point, but his tone as gentle and warm as a fire. He's of course, referring to the movie that was just put on the tv, Japanese subtitles turned on to help them with some English practice. Shindou would be proud.]
Going back in time just wasn't enough of an experience?
[Sometimes, without warning, he arrives, grown-out hair hanging in uneven messes onto his shoulders, cat-like blue eyes always peering curious around the room no matter how unchanged it is between his visits, his posture somehow straight and slightly militaristic, with a controlled power behind it, despite the looseness of his clothes that make him look like nothing more than a lazy couch potato.
Fudou just lets himself into the office of one Sakuma Jirou, holding up a plastic bag that contains a couple of plastic to-go boxes. The contents aren't visible from the steam fogging the clear containers, but the smell seeps out regardless. It's Chinese.]
Delivery for one workaholic cyclops.
Fudou just lets himself into the office of one Sakuma Jirou, holding up a plastic bag that contains a couple of plastic to-go boxes. The contents aren't visible from the steam fogging the clear containers, but the smell seeps out regardless. It's Chinese.]
Delivery for one workaholic cyclops.
[ She couldn't really blame Potpourri-- not that Itsuki could ever blame her fairy when Potpourri was still a baby, and especially not after knowing why Yuri was the only one among them who could transform without a partner. It had been a simple check-up, an overnight stay for Satsuki, where her brother could be monitored to make sure that his surgery had truly resolved all of his health issues. But the specialist at Kibougahana had been out of town and had recommended them to a colleague over in Inazumacho. Their doctor would be back at the regular hospital to give them the results once he'd met with his colleague, and Itsuki had told Potpourri she'd be at the hospital when she was done getting bonding time in with Chypre and Coffret.
What had then happened was Potpourri proceeding to flit over to the hospital where Satsuki had stayed the night, but upon realizing she couldn't sense Itsuki around, had thrown herself through the nearest window in a fit of agitation and a wail for her partner.
And there she's stayed, making a new friend in the process. However, Itsuki doesn't know that and after exhausting several options as to where her fairy could be, has narrowed it down (hopefully) to this hospital. Where she's now hurrying down the halls, calling out rather urgently (and as quietly as she can and completely ignoring the flustered gazes of several of the nurses whispering about "the good-looking boy" hurrying along with such purpose). ]
Potpourri!! Potpourri??
What had then happened was Potpourri proceeding to flit over to the hospital where Satsuki had stayed the night, but upon realizing she couldn't sense Itsuki around, had thrown herself through the nearest window in a fit of agitation and a wail for her partner.
And there she's stayed, making a new friend in the process. However, Itsuki doesn't know that and after exhausting several options as to where her fairy could be, has narrowed it down (hopefully) to this hospital. Where she's now hurrying down the halls, calling out rather urgently (and as quietly as she can and completely ignoring the flustered gazes of several of the nurses whispering about "the good-looking boy" hurrying along with such purpose). ]
Potpourri!! Potpourri??
KANEDAAAAAA.
[They're one second away from getting kicked out of the video shop. At the same time, they're never going to get kicked out because the poor part-timer girl behind the cashier is terrified of them. Sorry girl. He'll invite you out to a date later if Kaneda doesn't first. For now, this is more important.]
KANEDAAAAA. DON'T GET SOMETHING TOO KINKY. I'M NOT INTO THAT SHIT.
[They're one second away from getting kicked out of the video shop. At the same time, they're never going to get kicked out because the poor part-timer girl behind the cashier is terrified of them. Sorry girl. He'll invite you out to a date later if Kaneda doesn't first. For now, this is more important.]
KANEDAAAAA. DON'T GET SOMETHING TOO KINKY. I'M NOT INTO THAT SHIT.
(CATCHALL FOR THESE FUCKING GAY ASS SHITS we can also do actual platonic life partners.)
(the final score for the match of inazuma japan vs. little gigant. in inazuma japan's favor. it all seemed like a dream with most of the team even treating it as such, with delayed reactions that didn't even sink in until moments after the match. even those back in sun garden were frozen until they saw hiroto's bright, smiling face appear on the television screen, and the place erupted.
every child was screaming in joy, hitomiko and reina themselves were too happy to try and bring down the rambunctious children, too proud of how far hiroto had come, and midorikawa was easily the most overjoyed of them all.
tears streaming down his face as he bounces around clinging to whoever's closest. he always believed in hiroto, without a doubt that he would help lead inazuma japan to the top of the world. not just because of the promise they made when they separated before hiroto and the others set off for liocott island, but because midorikawa had nothing but the utmost faith and love in hiroto to head to the top of the world.
and now he did. the rest of the day was a blur, with bursts of ideas of a welcoming home and congratulatory party, getting him presents (hitomiko told them not to spoil him, though), everyone going out shopping to get his favorites. it was a mad scramble, people sectioning themselves off into groups to go shopping, gathering supplies, whatever was needed. midorikawa, spacing out and wanting to do anything, help with everything. hitomiko luckily guided him into using that energy to help paint a welcome home sign for hiroto, bright and colorful and signed by every child at sun garden.
he may have put a heart over the i in his name.
all of sun garden is waiting at the front of the house when the bus pulls up to drop off hiroto, all bright smiles and colors and presents for him, party poppers and whistles and anything at all they could find.
at the front is midorikawa, holding a sign reading "welcome home, champion of the world", an even brighter smile than the others on his face, a light flush on his cheeks.)
every child was screaming in joy, hitomiko and reina themselves were too happy to try and bring down the rambunctious children, too proud of how far hiroto had come, and midorikawa was easily the most overjoyed of them all.
tears streaming down his face as he bounces around clinging to whoever's closest. he always believed in hiroto, without a doubt that he would help lead inazuma japan to the top of the world. not just because of the promise they made when they separated before hiroto and the others set off for liocott island, but because midorikawa had nothing but the utmost faith and love in hiroto to head to the top of the world.
and now he did. the rest of the day was a blur, with bursts of ideas of a welcoming home and congratulatory party, getting him presents (hitomiko told them not to spoil him, though), everyone going out shopping to get his favorites. it was a mad scramble, people sectioning themselves off into groups to go shopping, gathering supplies, whatever was needed. midorikawa, spacing out and wanting to do anything, help with everything. hitomiko luckily guided him into using that energy to help paint a welcome home sign for hiroto, bright and colorful and signed by every child at sun garden.
he may have put a heart over the i in his name.
all of sun garden is waiting at the front of the house when the bus pulls up to drop off hiroto, all bright smiles and colors and presents for him, party poppers and whistles and anything at all they could find.
at the front is midorikawa, holding a sign reading "welcome home, champion of the world", an even brighter smile than the others on his face, a light flush on his cheeks.)
[It's not often that Hakuryuu admits he might have toed over the line. He was overconfident, sharp-tongued, and arrogant at points, and he often spoke before he thought things through. He never intended to be mean, but rather...the usual filter that people have that makes them think about what's going to come out of their mouth just wasn't there. In some ways, it made him more honest. In others, he often sounded quite insensitive.
Case in point, a moment when he approached the managers of Raimon with a chocolate bar months ago, back when they were collecting the strongest Eleven in history.
"I don't eat things that make me fat. Girls like this kind of thing, right?"
He can still feel the smack to his face and the lecture that soon followed. Even Fudou had told him that he'd crossed a line there, saying that no girl wants to have something that 'makes them fat' shoved into their hands. Hakuryuu, who hadn't connected the two statements in his own mind, had only just realized then what it may have sounded like. And yeah, even he can admit that the comment was a bit scathing for a teenage girl to hear, especially from him.
Now all he had to do was make it up to them.
Midori had been the one to receive the chocolate, so he figured she's the one he should go to. Shopping for chocolate proved to be an exercise in self-restraint, keeping himself from letting his own health standards from getting in the way of making a decision. Dark chocolate was healthier and when salted, even he enjoyed it. But would that be too obvious from him? If he got milk chocolate, would he be perpetuating what he'd said earlier?
Things that only brush past his mind as he grabs the latter, going to purchase it with the allowance Fudou often saved for him for doing well in homeschool.
Midori was easy to find once Aoi had given him instructions. She seemed to know just the reason for Hakuryuu's request too, giggling and pointing towards the shopping district, where Midori liked to hang out and watch over the upper levels that overlooked one of the alleys below. And true to Aoi's word, that's where he finds her, putting the bag of milk chocolate caramels in his left hand and stiffening his back, formally walking over to her to give his greeting.]
Seto.
[Unlike his usual tone, this one has warmth to it, as if he were humbly asking her attention instead of demanding it.]
Case in point, a moment when he approached the managers of Raimon with a chocolate bar months ago, back when they were collecting the strongest Eleven in history.
"I don't eat things that make me fat. Girls like this kind of thing, right?"
He can still feel the smack to his face and the lecture that soon followed. Even Fudou had told him that he'd crossed a line there, saying that no girl wants to have something that 'makes them fat' shoved into their hands. Hakuryuu, who hadn't connected the two statements in his own mind, had only just realized then what it may have sounded like. And yeah, even he can admit that the comment was a bit scathing for a teenage girl to hear, especially from him.
Now all he had to do was make it up to them.
Midori had been the one to receive the chocolate, so he figured she's the one he should go to. Shopping for chocolate proved to be an exercise in self-restraint, keeping himself from letting his own health standards from getting in the way of making a decision. Dark chocolate was healthier and when salted, even he enjoyed it. But would that be too obvious from him? If he got milk chocolate, would he be perpetuating what he'd said earlier?
Things that only brush past his mind as he grabs the latter, going to purchase it with the allowance Fudou often saved for him for doing well in homeschool.
Midori was easy to find once Aoi had given him instructions. She seemed to know just the reason for Hakuryuu's request too, giggling and pointing towards the shopping district, where Midori liked to hang out and watch over the upper levels that overlooked one of the alleys below. And true to Aoi's word, that's where he finds her, putting the bag of milk chocolate caramels in his left hand and stiffening his back, formally walking over to her to give his greeting.]
Seto.
[Unlike his usual tone, this one has warmth to it, as if he were humbly asking her attention instead of demanding it.]
it's like that bit where hiccup has to bribe toothless with fish to get close to him
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anegohada
- 2017-04-06 06:17 (UTC) - Expand[He wrote and rewrote the text about half a dozen times before he simply gave up. Sitting on the stacked-up rubber tires inside a now-empty Raimon clubroom (with Endou still dribbling the ball somewhere outside, the only other one remaining on campus today), he finally closes the messages tab of his phone and clicks through to start a call instead, hand sweaty and on the verge of shaking as he watches the phone dial.
Kiyama Hiroto.
A good guy. With a gentle smile, soft voice, and soothing calmness in the face of pressure. Something he'd learned when they captained Inazuma Japan together during the match against Argentina.
But also, the most terrifying man Kazemaru knew, second to Endou Mamoru himself. There were still some occasions when he remembered the sharp, piercing glare he received from Gran. Like now. As he presses the phone to his ear and imagines just what sort of painful, awful death Hiroto might sentence him to for the way he was with Midorikawa the other day. After taking the chocolate, postponing the answer, and making him go home.
... He's going to die for real this time, he knows it.]
Kiyama Hiroto.
A good guy. With a gentle smile, soft voice, and soothing calmness in the face of pressure. Something he'd learned when they captained Inazuma Japan together during the match against Argentina.
But also, the most terrifying man Kazemaru knew, second to Endou Mamoru himself. There were still some occasions when he remembered the sharp, piercing glare he received from Gran. Like now. As he presses the phone to his ear and imagines just what sort of painful, awful death Hiroto might sentence him to for the way he was with Midorikawa the other day. After taking the chocolate, postponing the answer, and making him go home.
... He's going to die for real this time, he knows it.]
[Hiroto had been wrangling some of the younger Sun Gardeners when his phone had rang. Apparently Ruru had wanted to play wedding that day, and Kimiyuki was going to great lengths to avoid being cast as the groom in the situation. And with him playing keep-a-way while Ruru played chase, he had to let his phone ring a few times before he ushered an excitable Ruru back to the kitchen to help the girls with preparing the rice for dinner.
No one really questioned how Hiroto could bring peace ot a situation, two loud kids now becoming at least pacified after his words reach their ears. Kimiyuki gave his thanks to him, saying something about 'saving his life' before scurrying back to the little alcove he called his 'spot', while Hiroto went to pick up his phone in the now-empty room.
The name strikes lightning to his heart.
Kazemaru Ichirouta.
A topic of not-very-much discussion after what had happened only a few days ago. Midorikawa had been recovering, although still quite heartbroken over the lack of good news. Reina had refused to comment on it, which meant that she was probably the most angry one of them all, and while Fuusuke and Haruya had stated they hadn't cared, the way their eyebrows furrowed at the news was telling enough. Things were a little heated when it came to the blue-haired boy Midorikawa had fancied.
Forever the diplomat, though, Hiroto had held out hope. That it was something big that Kazemaru couldn't honestly decide on in one day, or immediately. He'd played with him on Inazuma Japan. He'd seen that boy crumple underneath his own heel.
He knew what a big leap it was.
So its with a tug of his heart and a pleading smile that he flips open his phone, putting it to his ear and greeting his caller cheerfully.]
Kazemaru-kun?
[Reina must have bat-like hearing, because the way her head snapped around that corner with eyes narrowed had caused him to immediately retreat outside. Best...best not to have this conversation indoors.]
No one really questioned how Hiroto could bring peace ot a situation, two loud kids now becoming at least pacified after his words reach their ears. Kimiyuki gave his thanks to him, saying something about 'saving his life' before scurrying back to the little alcove he called his 'spot', while Hiroto went to pick up his phone in the now-empty room.
The name strikes lightning to his heart.
Kazemaru Ichirouta.
A topic of not-very-much discussion after what had happened only a few days ago. Midorikawa had been recovering, although still quite heartbroken over the lack of good news. Reina had refused to comment on it, which meant that she was probably the most angry one of them all, and while Fuusuke and Haruya had stated they hadn't cared, the way their eyebrows furrowed at the news was telling enough. Things were a little heated when it came to the blue-haired boy Midorikawa had fancied.
Forever the diplomat, though, Hiroto had held out hope. That it was something big that Kazemaru couldn't honestly decide on in one day, or immediately. He'd played with him on Inazuma Japan. He'd seen that boy crumple underneath his own heel.
He knew what a big leap it was.
So its with a tug of his heart and a pleading smile that he flips open his phone, putting it to his ear and greeting his caller cheerfully.]
Kazemaru-kun?
[Reina must have bat-like hearing, because the way her head snapped around that corner with eyes narrowed had caused him to immediately retreat outside. Best...best not to have this conversation indoors.]
Alright, give me a minute.
[This was their favourite game--or rather, it was MINAHO'S favourite game, as they sit at one of the outside cafe table's at the Soccer Garden Shopping mall. They'd both gotten something from the nearby smoothie stand, sipping it in the hot sun as they kept their eyes peeled on the people around him.
It was amazing what you could deduct using context clues about the people around you. A mall brought all types, and with the variety of reasons for meeting here/shopping here, it made for a great game of 'guess what this person's motive is'. Manabe, a boy who seemed more into statistics and calculations, actually was fairly good at it himself, although don't ask Minaho how he'd come to some of those conclusions mathematically.
Guess that's why Manabe was the winner of the supercomputer competition...
There's a sip of his smoothie--lime and coconut as he tries to find someone who looked like they were on a mission, eyes finally settling on a man continuously looking at his watch and rocking back and forth on his heels.]
Interesting...
You see that guy right there, Manabe-kun?
[This was their favourite game--or rather, it was MINAHO'S favourite game, as they sit at one of the outside cafe table's at the Soccer Garden Shopping mall. They'd both gotten something from the nearby smoothie stand, sipping it in the hot sun as they kept their eyes peeled on the people around him.
It was amazing what you could deduct using context clues about the people around you. A mall brought all types, and with the variety of reasons for meeting here/shopping here, it made for a great game of 'guess what this person's motive is'. Manabe, a boy who seemed more into statistics and calculations, actually was fairly good at it himself, although don't ask Minaho how he'd come to some of those conclusions mathematically.
Guess that's why Manabe was the winner of the supercomputer competition...
There's a sip of his smoothie--lime and coconut as he tries to find someone who looked like they were on a mission, eyes finally settling on a man continuously looking at his watch and rocking back and forth on his heels.]
Interesting...
You see that guy right there, Manabe-kun?
[ It's been a while. She'll admit that, perhaps, her decision to run off to Kanto had been a bit rash. But it might also have been one of the only things she's ever done in her life for herself. Not for Mother, not for Nebby, but for herself.
It's odd to think of it that way, but there it was. It doesn't matter now, though. She's back. She can feel the Alolan sun against her skin, and smell the island breeze, and feel almost overwhelmed with nostalgia.
She should really visit Mother.
But this--this is more important, right now. She has to see her brother; and even though he doesn't seem to have a permanent address, she knows who to ask. That's how she winds up here--a smaller, out of the way town that barely even makes the map.]
Gladion?
[It feels a bit foolish, calling out in the middle of town. But she hasn't quite worked up the nerve to start knocking on doors yet.]
It's odd to think of it that way, but there it was. It doesn't matter now, though. She's back. She can feel the Alolan sun against her skin, and smell the island breeze, and feel almost overwhelmed with nostalgia.
She should really visit Mother.
But this--this is more important, right now. She has to see her brother; and even though he doesn't seem to have a permanent address, she knows who to ask. That's how she winds up here--a smaller, out of the way town that barely even makes the map.]
Gladion?
[It feels a bit foolish, calling out in the middle of town. But she hasn't quite worked up the nerve to start knocking on doors yet.]
Hurry up, Hiroto!
[Ideally, when showing one around your hometown, you take your time to let them look around, enjoy the views, enjoy the experience. Except Endou, excitable as ever, is determined to get to the top of the steel tower before the quickly-approaching sunset, and Kiyama Hiroto is just taking too much of his sweet time! Impatient, but cheerful, Endou hops up and down at the top of the steps leading up to the hilltop and waves his arms.]
Get up here! You've gotta take a look at this!
[Ideally, when showing one around your hometown, you take your time to let them look around, enjoy the views, enjoy the experience. Except Endou, excitable as ever, is determined to get to the top of the steel tower before the quickly-approaching sunset, and Kiyama Hiroto is just taking too much of his sweet time! Impatient, but cheerful, Endou hops up and down at the top of the steps leading up to the hilltop and waves his arms.]
Get up here! You've gotta take a look at this!
[ This isn't the first time the Bad End Generals have struck, and it's highly unlikely it will be the last. As much as her heart ricochets into a fever pitch and her legs feel wobbly, Yayoi has somehow grown accustomed to fighting during these times. Maybe because she can't bear the sight of people brought to their knees in despair, mistrust and cynicism taking over them, but--
Her thoughts abruptly stop and Yayoi - as Cure Peace - slams into a wall, just outside of an alley way, because it's probably not a good idea to be pondering things when you're fighting a monster with your team. She's spared a follow-up attack as March dives in for an assist, launching it away with one strong kick, but as Peace pushes herself to her feet and casts a shaky glance around-- there's something that immediately catches her attention.
Or someone, which is why she blurts out, rather startled-- ]
You're okay?!
Her thoughts abruptly stop and Yayoi - as Cure Peace - slams into a wall, just outside of an alley way, because it's probably not a good idea to be pondering things when you're fighting a monster with your team. She's spared a follow-up attack as March dives in for an assist, launching it away with one strong kick, but as Peace pushes herself to her feet and casts a shaky glance around-- there's something that immediately catches her attention.
Or someone, which is why she blurts out, rather startled-- ]
You're okay?!
[The thing about schools is they all have days off on the same days (give or take), and with Gassan Kunimitsu out early for the weekend, he'd quickly hopped on the train (while frantically waving bye to his parents and grandmother) to make sure he could get to Inazumacho at a reasonable time. His plan had worked--as he now stood at the train station punching in GPS directions for Raimon. They should be in school for another hour or so--that'd give him enough time to wait outside and surprise Shindou.
With the address on lock, he makes a break for the streets, crossing crosswalks (he's not a jay-walker GOSH) and making his way to the school with forty minutes to spare.
There's a small little smile of satisfaction on his face as he sets his bags down on a bench just outside of the school, plopping down there to let his legs rest and stretch, elbows on his knees and hands folded between them.
...
And that's when he sees that he's not alone, plum eyes flicking up to notice a small girl (definitely middle school, but on the shorter side) waiting next to him.
...]
Waiting for someone?
[Despite how deep and intimidating that voice is, he flashes a smile. If she's here, then Shindou can't say what a dumb idea it is. OTHER PEOPLE DO IT TOO.]
With the address on lock, he makes a break for the streets, crossing crosswalks (he's not a jay-walker GOSH) and making his way to the school with forty minutes to spare.
There's a small little smile of satisfaction on his face as he sets his bags down on a bench just outside of the school, plopping down there to let his legs rest and stretch, elbows on his knees and hands folded between them.
...
And that's when he sees that he's not alone, plum eyes flicking up to notice a small girl (definitely middle school, but on the shorter side) waiting next to him.
...]
Waiting for someone?
[Despite how deep and intimidating that voice is, he flashes a smile. If she's here, then Shindou can't say what a dumb idea it is. OTHER PEOPLE DO IT TOO.]
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