Crossovers: All In One

Any fic involving more than one series.

The Seconds’ Club

Une and Hawkeye unwind after long days at work. Porn With Insights, I-4, spoilers ep 16 FMA. Timeframe: ep 16 FMA, post ep 23 indeterminate GW.

Character(s): Lisa Hawkeye, Une
Pairing(s): Une/Hawkeye

Lisa Hawkeye, having in one gruelling afternoon re-filed files, re-written schedules, ordered furniture moved and rooms cleaned, and thrown all the left-over knickknacks in a box to ship to Central, made one last stop and tapped on her commander’s door.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?”

The Colonel looked up from his work and smiled. “No, I think we’ve straightened out all the mess that our visitors from Central left behind.” He patted his repossessed desk fondly. “You can go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She saluted, and the Colonel returned it as casually as he always returned military courtesies to her, as if her adherence to them amused him.

“You’re meeting that friend of yours at the Club tonight?” he asked as she turned to go.

Lisa looked back over her shoulder a bit warily. She and Une had to be careful what they said about each other at home. Continuity contamination could get both of them banned from the Club. “Yes.”

“I would be interested to meet her commander one of these days,” the Colonel mused.

Lisa felt her eyes widen. “That… could be… problematic, Sir,” she choked.

The Colonel’s mouth quirked.

“For whom?” he wondered softly.

Let me count the ways… Lisa boggled, slightly dizzy at the very thought of what might happen. Fortunately the Colonel didn’t seem serious about carrying out his terrifying notion, at least tonight, and he waved her out with a good-natured, if wry, grin.


The Seconds’ Club was dark tonight, only a few soft overhead lights supplementing the candles on each table. A single spotlight did gleam off brass in one corner as Lisa threaded her way toward Une’s waving hand. She nodded toward the instruments as she sat.

“Live entertainment tonight?”

Une made a face. “William is having musical pretentions again, I think.” She slid a drink across to Lisa. “Here. You look like you could use this.”

Lisa took a long swallow, and sagged back in her chair with a sigh. “I did. Thanks, Une.”

“Long day?” her friend asked sympathetically.

Lisa groaned.

“First there was all the upset with Scar trying to kill all the State Alchemists single-handed, pardon the pun, then Mustang-taisa just has to go and scare the life out of me and then he has to bait Edward-kun while we’re trying to get the boy packed off to his mechanic, and the contingent from Central left East headquarters a complete mess, and guess who gets to straighten everything out?”

It all came out in a single breath, and Une patted her arm while she took another slug of her drink.

This, after all, was what the Seconds’ Club was for—so that the people who actually kept affairs running could vent before they want completely around the bend and left their frequently megalomaniac commanders to their own devices. It was the most off-duty public location in existence.

Lisa smiled as she took a more moderate sip. Une looked exceedingly off-duty tonight, in soft knits and a loose pony-tail, an impression only slightly modified by the gun at her hip.

Then Lisa grimaced as she remembered the other thing. “And to top it all off, Mustang-taisa wants to meet Treize-san.”

Une coughed on her drink.

“He what?” she gasped, eyes watering.

The two women shared a long look, and Lisa was sure they were both envisioning the same Machiavellian wildfire running gleefully through two continuums. Probably more.

No,” they stated in firm unison.

Lisa frowned as she watched Une blot her eyes, and squint just a bit. “Did you have a lot of paperwork to read today?” she wanted to know.

Une smiled ruefully. “Is it that obvious?”

“Your eyes always bother you in low light after you’ve been reading for a long time. Tell you what,” Lisa finished her drink, “let’s go back to my place. And put on some real music.”

Une stood with her. “And let you get changed, too,” her friend returned with a touch of sternness. “You came straight here from work, didn’t you?”

“You bet I did,” Lisa said fervently, “before another crisis came up to stop me.”


“So, do we need more to drink, or should I put on tea?” Lisa asked as they hung up their coats and guns.

“Tea would be lovely,” Une decided.

“You pick out music, then.”

By the time Lisa had changed into her favorite old tee-shirt and drawstring pants the kettle was whistling and she brought it, with mugs and the tea basket, out to the living room.

Une had put on her favorite string quartet from Lisa’s collection and was lounging on the couch with her eyes closed.

Lisa set her peppermint and Une’s favorite blackberry to steep and pulled up a few of her floor cushions to the other side of the table.

“So, what did he do to scare you so badly today?” Une asked, opening one eye.

Lisa shivered.

“Gran found one of the deserters. It was a huge mess, but in the end Bradley’s people took the man into custody. Roy… he decided to go to Bradley and admit that he’d known all along where Marco was and hadn’t said. I think he did it to convince Bradley that he really is loyal, just didn’t trust Gran. Or maybe it was for one-upsmanship, to say he could get information Bradley couldn’t. Maybe it was just to force some resolution so he wouldn’t have to keep watching over his shoulder for what Bradley would do if he found out.” She laughed, pressing a hand over her eyes. “Knowing him it was probably all of those and a few I haven’t thought of. But, Une, he invited, he nearly provoked, Bradley to punish him for what could be seen as treason! He said it was the coin he had to use, but… If Bradley had finally decided he was too dangerous, decided he really was disloyal…”

Une got up and came around to sit behind Lisa, arms around her waist. “Ssh, now. It’s all right, Lisa, it didn’t happen.”

Lisa leaned back against her friend with a shuddering sigh. “I just hate it when there’s nothing I can do to protect him.”

“I know,” Une whispered against her hair, rocking her gently.

“I would give my life for him, Une, but he takes so much on himself trying to protect us. Trying to make things better.” Lisa was silent a moment before bursting out, “And I love Gracia, but sometimes I wish Hughes were still… what he used to be to Roy. Because God knows he won’t take that kind of comfort from anyone else.”

“Would you offer it, if he would?” Une asked.

It wasn’t a new question between them, and the answer hadn’t changed in the years they’d known each other, but Une asked it again every so often. Lisa turned in her arms, curling up against her.

“Not me. I’m not sure I could take his attitude in bed. And I am sure it would affect how we worked together; it would be incredibly unprofessional.”

“You can say that again,” Une muttered. “Treize-san is such a horrible tease when the mood takes him. If I never have to look another bottle of bath oil in the face again it will be too soon.”

Lisa chuckled, remember that story very well. Une’s fingers combed her hair, lingering over her hair clip, a silent question in their personal body language.

Speaking of that kind of comfort. And I so need some after today. Lisa reached up and undid the clip, laying it on the table. Une made a pleased sound and threaded one hand through the loose strands. The other set her own hair-tie on the table next to Lisa’s clip.

Lisa stretched against Une, pushing her back onto the pillows. Une rolled them over until her weight settled, comfortably, over Lisa, and Lisa could see her smile. She raised a hand to trace the strong, soft lips with her fingertips. Une captured one between her teeth, and Lisa laughed. When they made love Une reminded her of a great cat. A leopard or jaguar perhaps. Playful, powerful, sleek, grace given form and made soft to the touch.

She stretched again, sighing, as Une ran her hands up under Lisa’s shirt, over her stomach, pausing as they touched her breasts.

“You changed out of more than I thought,” Une observed.

Lisa gave her a slow smile through lowered lashes. “Not objecting, are you?”

“I’ve been called crazy, but never that crazy,” Une murmured against Lisa’s mouth.

Their lips barely brushed, tongues seeking a way past each other, dueling playfully until Lisa laughed again and Une kissed her hard. Une’s fingers stroked the curve of her breast so lightly it almost tickled, and Lisa moved into her touch, paused to pull her shirt off, pressed against Une again.

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love the fact that you’re not shy?” Une asked, running her tongue along Lisa’s collarbone.

“Mmmm. How lately?” Lisa sighed.

And then she forgot the question as Une closed her mouth over Lisa’s nipple and sucked slowly. A complex shiver of heat wound down Lisa’s body.

Une drew back and an odd clunking noise made Lisa open her eyes in time to see Une take a sip of tea from the still-waiting mugs. She set it down beside them, swallowed, and gave Lisa a tiny grin.

Lisa blinked.

And then Une’s mouth found her breast again, shockingly hot from the steaming tea. Lisa arched up, hands closing sharply on Une’s shoulders.

“Une…” she breathed, “oh…”

Une’s hand stroked down her spine, as Une’s tongue started to outline her ribs, one by one. Lisa hardly noticed when Une tugged her pants loose and slid them off, but did notice that Une’s own clothing was getting in the way. She wanted to feel Une’s skin.

All clothing dispensed with, Lisa had to pause a moment for appreciation. The movement of Une’s sleek muscles never failed to entrance her. As Une settled over her again she let her hands catalogue the smooth planes of Une’s back, the strong curve of her rear, let them sweep back up her sides, thumbs just brushing the heavy softness of her breasts.

Une’s teeth closed delicately on Lisa’s ear before she whispered, “May I?” Her hand stroked Lisa’s hip.

Lisa closed her arms tight around Une for a moment.

“Yes.”

Une slid down her body, moving her legs apart. She nibbled down the inside of Lisa’s thigh as her fingers brushed lightly between Lisa’s legs, sliding against her. Lisa sighed, muscles tightening low in her stomach. She moaned as Une’s tongue replaced her fingers.

Drew back.

Returned steaming hot again, and Lisa lost her voice for a moment as Une’s tongue stroked long and slow and hot against her. The overwhelming, sliding heat spread out to meet Une’s palm massaging her stomach, undoing the tightness even as the soft, wet stroking wound pleasure through her until she thought she would snap from it.

Heat again.

Lisa moaned low in her throat, feeling her body open out, straining outward against the stroke of Une’s tongue until everything recoiled and Lisa was caught up in long waves of burning, drowning sensation.

Her breath returned to her slowly.

“That was… pretty incredible,” she whispered against Une’s shoulder.

“I had hoped it might be,” Une purred back. “Though it’s a shame to dilute the taste of you. You taste like the open ocean.”

Lisa smiled and kissed Une deeply, pressing her back against the cushions. She traced Une’s lips with the tip of her tongue as she slid a hand down Une’s body, pressing between her legs which Une parted readily. She rubbed a fingertip lightly against the slick wetness there, and Une tossed her head back.

“Lisa…” she sighed, reaching up.

Lisa kissed her again, winding her tongue around Une’s, as she slid her fingers slowly into the heat of Une’s body, swallowing Une’s long moan into their kiss. Une rocked up to meet the thrust of Lisa’s fingers, faster, asking for more, and Lisa twisted her hand gently, spreading her fingers against the grip of Une’s body, plunging down faster, harder, until Une arched, clenched, over and over.

Lisa held Une as she settled, shivering slightly from her release, and waited until her bittersweet brown eyes opened.

Une smiled and pulled Lisa down so they could lie nestled against each other.

“Your peppermint is probably undrinkable by now,” she remarked, drowsily.

“I can make more. Later.” Lisa rubbed her cheek against Une’s shoulder. Une stroked the back of her neck.

“You know,” Lisa added after a moment, voice thoughtful, “maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for Roy and Treize to meet. They might just be so taken up with trying to get the better of each other that they wouldn’t bother with the rest of the world. And if they get along half as well as we do, well, maybe Treize could actually get Roy to unwind a little.”

“If anyone could…” Une agreed.

A tiny smile curved Lisa’s lips. “He’d probably get a bit of a surprise if he did of course…”

A wicked light gleamed in both women’s eyes as they looked at each other for a long moment before they broke down giggling in each other’s arms.

Epilogue

Treize Kushurenada took a sip of his drink and shook his head at his companion. “That really wasn’t a very nice thing to do, Roy.”

Roy slanted a sideways look at him. “As if you’re one to talk. Besides,” he added, “she needed something light to distract her after she had to stand and watch me put my head in the lion’s mouth. You know what they’re like about that kind of thing.”

Roy watched the blue eyes go slightly distant.

“Yes,” Treize admitted softly, “I know. What are you going to do when she finds out, though?”

Roy examined his glass.

“Duck quickly, I suppose. Or offer another distraction. I’m sure something will come to me.”

He caught Treize’s eye and they shared a nearly identical smirk across the table.

End


Branch: *perfectly calm* That was not a suggestion for a sequel. You are not suggesting that I let the two of you try to out-sultry each other on paper. It would be a fire hazard.

Treize: To be sure not, Madam! You’ve already heaped such unlooked for treasure upon me, I would never so presume.

Roy: Indeed.

Branch: *eyes characters mistrustfully*

Roy: *slow grin* Whether or not your write down what we’re doing is entirely up to you, Madam.

Branch: *hand over eyes*

Last Modified: Feb 07, 12
Posted: Jan 29, 04
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4 readers sent Plaudits.

Wild

Pet Shop of Horrors crossover. While visiting the US, some of the tennis boys come across an unusual pet shop. This evolves, as such things do, into some strange situations for a few of them. Drama, I-2, Future PoT anime continuity, middling PSoH manga continuity

Ryouma strolled down the narrow street, trying not very hard to more or less keep an eye on most of his teammates. It helped that he’d expected for, weeks, to be doing this. He’d been roped into playing tour guide the last time it was the US’s turn to host the Kantou vs. West Coast competition, too, so he’d been ready for it this time and only put up a token protest.

“Hey, Echizen!” Momo’s hand emerged from the crowd and snagged Ryouma’s arm, dragging him in front of a window display. “What are all these?”

“How should I know?”

…though he did spare a few moments to wish that the regular teams of the chosen players hadn’t all managed to come watch. He might have gotten out of this altogether, if they hadn’t. The only player from his temporary team who was along today, and not one of Seigaku, was Yukimura-san. Everyone else had split up like a handful of same-pole magnets as soon as the closing ceremonies were done. Tachibana-san was with his own team today; Sanada seemed to be hiding out in his hotel room; and Ryouma hadn’t asked where Atobe was going. He did wonder why they all seemed so eager to get some distance again. After all, it wasn’t like the coaches had done anything really cruel with the lineup this year.

Well, not to them, anyway. Pairing Tachibana-san and Yukimura-san for Doubles One had turned out to be pretty cruel to the other team. Ryouma didn’t think he’d ever seen a match played so… fiercely.

“This is a busy part of the city, isn’t it?” Fuji-senpai asked, appearing beside him. “And such a varied crowd! Did you ever come here to watch the people?”

“No.”

Then again, he’d probably have been stuck anyway, Ryouma decided, watching Fuji-senpai slip through the clumps of people. If nothing else, Fuji-senpai would have latched onto him for a good audience to act all nonchalant in front of. Ryouma had been fairly impressed that Sanada managed to keep Fuji-senpai serious all through their match, but he’d known it wouldn’t be permanent. Fuji-senpai liked to play around too much. On the bright side, at least Inui-senpai had carried Kaidou off to the Natural History Museum to look at bones, and Kikumaru-senpai had been dragged away by Mukahi and Oshitari-san.

He hadn’t asked where they were headed, either.

Ryouma leaned against a shady bit of wall, hands tucked in his pockets, and relaxed while his teammates darted back and forth across the street, dragging this person or that to be shown the newest interesting shop. Having repelled the latest attempt at this, Tezuka-san leaned beside him.

“Good choice of location,” he commented.

Ryouma grinned at his captain. “I thought so.”

If anyplace could hold the interest of his senpai when they were determined to play tourist, he’d figured Chinatown would be it. Something was always happening.

“Risi, not that door!” a faint voice exclaimed. A few doors down, a bright bird with a long tail flitted into open air and nearly crashed into Yukimura-san. A quick snatch captured it, and he held it gently while it cheeped in protest.

“Hush, now,” Yukimura-san told it, petting the small head with a fingertip. “I don’t think the owner would like it if I aid and abet your escape.” The bird eyed him for a long moment before it settled down in his hands with a coo and a ruffle of feathers.

“Well, at least she didn’t go far.” A young man in formal clothes emerged from the shop doors. “Although,” he added, in Japanese, tipping his head, “I can’t say I’m surprised she likes you.”

“Really?” Yukimura-san’s eyes narrowed a little, and his smile sharpened.

Ryouma wondered for a second whether they knew each other or something. Yukimura-san was usually impenetrably charming with strangers. He drifted toward them. Actually, everyone was gathering back around them.

“What a beautiful bird,” Oishi-senpai said, softly.

The man smiled. “She’s a very rare breed; the shop specializes in exotic pets. Would you care to come in and look?” He ushered them all inside, and accepted the bird back from Yukimura-san. “Now, are you going to behave?” he asked it. The bird cheeped and bobbed a few times, and he nodded. “Good.” He set it on an open perch, where it settled down and started to preen its trailing tail feathers.

“Is it a songbird?” Fuji-senpai asked, coming to stand beside him.

“Oh, yes,” the man answered, low voiced. “She sings at dawn.” His smile looked very strange for a moment, and Fuji-senpai gave him a sidelong glance.

Ryouma observed that, while most everyone else was fanning out to make impressed noises over the animals, Fuji-senpai seemed more entertained by the proprietor.

“Dottybacks!” Oishi-senpai exclaimed from the cluster of aquariums one corner. “And is that one… a Cypho?” he looked over his shoulder at their host, wide-eyed. “How do you keep this many of them alive when they can see each other?”

The owner perked up. “Ah, you’re familiar with the breed, then?”

“I would love to put together a coral tank, and maybe even keep a breeding pair of these.” Oishi-senpai touched a finger to the corner of the tank, looking longingly at the tiny fish.

“Wow,” Momo whispered, peering into the tanks, “look at those colors.”

“But they’re so aggressive,” Oishi continued. “They’d take a lot of attention to make sure the young didn’t all kill each other off. Not to mention they’re worse escape artists than that bird.” He made a deprecating face, and turned away from the tanks with a last, lingering look.

“Most fish owners simply take a certain percentage of loss for granted,” the owner said in a very neutral voice.

“That’s irresponsible,” Oishi-senpai frowned. “Of course they can’t be controlled completely, they’re living animals after all. But when we take them out of the wild, we have a duty to do our best for them.”

The owner gave him a long, measuring look and smiled slowly. He reached for pen and paper, and wrote something out quickly and neatly. “This is our address. If you think you might be interested in some of our animals, there are a few trans-Pacific shippers that I trust. Just let me know.”

Oishi-senpai glanced around at the shop full of cheeping, growling, gurgling animals, at the sheet of paper and back at the owner, looking a bit dazed. “Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You do seem to have a talent for keeping the peace between your tenants,” Yukimura-san noted, looking down at a racoon sprawled asleep on top of a small bear, “Mr…”

“D,” the owner supplied.

“Of course.” Yukimura-san smiled. “This place has a very relaxing atmosphere.” He turned. “Don’t you think so, Tezuka?”

Tezuka-san was not, naturally, oo-ing and ah-ing. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. “Very,” he agreed, without looking up.

Ryouma blinked. Tezuka-san did actually sound relaxed. Fuji-senpai stopped beside their captain and asked something, softly. Tezuka-san leaned his head back against the wall and shrugged one shoulder. Fuji-senpai abruptly left off his curious examination of D and focused on Tezuka-san. Yukimura-san was looking very amused for some reason.

“The incense helps with that,” D answered, drawing Yukimura-san’s eyes back to him. “I blend it myself. That way I can always send a packet with the more sensitive animals, to give them something familiar while they settle into a new place.”

Ryouma was really starting to wonder if he was missing something, because Yukimura-san was looking at D with wide eyes. “Send it with them?” he repeated, still staring.

“Oh, yes. It’s very helpful.” D smiled, and for one second it was sharp as a knife. And then he was looking cheerful again.

Yukimura-san gave him a tilted return smile, and his eyes glinted. “Indeed.”

“So, who’s up for dinner?” Ryouma put in. He figured hunger was probably making him lightheaded. The conversation would surely make more sense after he’d eaten.

A chorus of agreement answered him, Momo loudest of course. D recommended a restaurant down the street and waved them goodbye at his doors.

“Do feel free to stop in again, if you’d like,” he called. “Any time.”


D closed the doors after his visitors. “Well! That was something you don’t see every day.” He turned toward the back. “T-chan, you can come out now.”

Tetsu shouldered through one of the curtains, grumbling. “Why couldn’t I be out here?! What if one of them had gone nuts? Worse, what if one of them decided he liked you?”

D smiled indulgently at Tetsu’s ferocious glare. “They were both wild, T-chan. Neither of them was likely to stay here.”

“Yeah?” Tetsu bristled. “That tiger sure looked like he was thinking about it.”

“Actually,” D sighed, “I hope he comes again before he goes home. For his own sake.”

Tetsu snorted, cynically. “And because you want to grill him about how he’s managing to pass.”

D chuckled. “All right, that too.”


Kunimitsu walked down streets without really looking where he was going. He knew quite well that it was dangerous to wander a strange city alone, at night, but right now he was too agitated to care. In fact, for the first time in a very long time, he was almost hoping for the appearance of some lowlife who would give him an excuse to set aside his self control.

He scolded himself for the thought, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Today had been more stressful than usual, and Yukimura’s sense of humor hadn’t helped. Who would have thought that they’d find someone who recognized them while out playing tourist? He’d spent the remainder of the day torn between the relief of knowing there was someone he might talk to, if he chose, who would understand, and the reflex terror that someone knew what he was.

A familiar sign caught his eye, and he stopped short on the sidewalk. Count D’s Pet Shop. Kunimitsu snorted, silently. It seemed his instincts had had a destination in mind after all. Now, if he could just decide whether that was a good thing or not.


About to lock the doors, a faint sound caught D’s ear. A chopped off rustle, very much like someone standing outside the doors and wondering whether he should approach or not. D smiled, and if there was as much darkness as sympathy in the expression, well, his visitor couldn’t see him yet.

“Welcome to Count D’s Pet Shop,” he said, more softly than he would have for a human. “Please, come in.” He opened the doors to meet the very level gaze of the young man outside, and his smile turned more cheery. “Would you care for some tea?”

Tezuka-kun’s mouth tightened. “Thank you.” He didn’t sound grateful at all, but he did stalk inside. D stifled a grin, and closed the doors behind him before making a comforting and domestic fuss with the tea set.

“So,” he said, as they sipped, “if I gathered correctly, you and the other young men here this afternoon play tennis?”

Tezuka-kun nodded, gazing into his tea.

“A useful outlet for competitiveness,” D mused.

Tezuka-kun gave him a mildly exasperated look. D decided that one of his friends must have a habit of speaking obliquely, too. Very well, then, he would be a bit more direct.

“It must be very stressful, living in a city, among such crowds, when your instincts call for space,” he suggested.

“There are adjustments that have to be made,” his guest agreed, sitting back. D nodded. The scent of the shop was starting to relax Tezuka-kun again.

“Adjustment, adaptation,” D nibbled a cookie. “They’re the true wonders of the natural world. That which adapts lives. And animals are capable of the most amazing feats, really. Changing from rural to urban habitats; from being carnivores to being omnivores.” He looked back up into the opaque brown eyes across the table. “From a range that consists of land to one that consists of people.”

Tezuka-kun’s eyes narrowed, and topaz flashed in them for a breath. Another observer might have thought it was only the lamplight.

“Yes, I thought that might be it.” D sipped his tea. “Those others who were with you, they are your team?”

“Yes,” Tezuka-kun said, and an edge of vibrato had entered the deep voice. He was tense again, coiled to move.

“I make no claim on them,” D assured him, softly.

Tezuka-kun took a deep breath and sat back again, passing a hand over his forehead. “My apologies,” he said, at last. D waved this off.

“It’s only in your nature. Actually,” his mouth quirked, remembering, “I was surprised that you and Yukimura-kun dealt so peacefully with each other, seeing that he was in the middle of your territory.”

A shrug answered him. “He has his territory, and I have mine; we don’t interfere with each other that way.” Tezuka-kun’s mouth twisted. “This week of being on the same team hasn’t been especially easy,” he admitted.

D was fascinated. “And it’s all subsumed into this game. Territory and challenge, and all. Truly an amazing adaptation.”

Tezuka-kun looked away, abruptly. “Maybe.”

“Is there a problem?” D asked quietly, not pressing.

Tezuka-kun was silent for a long moment. “In school, there are times I can’t properly mark or defend my territory. And after this year I will have to find another. As you said—stressful.”

D considered this. No wonder Tezuka-kun was tense. His kind were not terribly social animals, and while he could ameliorate that a little by considering some humans his territory, humans didn’t hold still the way landscape did. Stressful, indeed. Still, he thought Tezuka-kun might be overestimating his trouble; not uncommon in the young of any species.

“Surely your territory won’t be entirely broken, even if you part ways somewhat,” D pointed out. “That nice young man, Oishi-kun will never abandon you, I’m certain. And the quiet young man who smiled so much. Not to mention,” D’s mouth quirked, “the one who was rolling his eyes at everyone else.”

That made Tezuka-kun look thoughtful. “Oishi and Fuji I might be able to keep, I suppose,” he said at last. “Echizen, though, is almost ready to go looking for his own territory. I wouldn’t do either of us any favors by trying to stop him.”

D raised his brows. Interesting. It sounded as though Tezuka-kun regarded Echizen less as part of his territory and more as one of his own kind. Well, that had no bearing on the situation right now. “You should relax for a while, Tezuka-kun.”

The look he got this time was completely exasperated. “In the middle of a city? Where?”

“I’ll show you.” D rose, and beckoned his guest through the door to the back.

A corner of Tezuka-kun’s mouth twitched as they walked down the long halls, but he didn’t bother asking how it was possible. His eyes did widen a bit when D finally opened a door and they stepped through into a cool, rustling forest. D set down the censer he had picked up, and settled on a patch of grass next to it. D saw Tezuka-kun take a deep, deep breath of the breeze, and laughed gently as longing crossed his face. “Run and hunt here as long as you like,” he said. “I’ll stay with you; follow my scent to come back to the door, here, when you’re ready.” He had to take his own breath in at the burning, wild desire in Tezuka-kun’s eyes when they met his. Brown lightened to topaz, and Tezuka-kun turned toward the trees, and in a few steps he was bounding on four velvet paws.

D smiled as the jagged stripes in Tezuka-kun’s fur blended into the forest. He had rarely been thanked so… thoroughly. He leaned back and inhaled deeply again, waiting for the scent of blood on the breeze.


Ryouma stalked down the streets that he hadn’t necessarily shown his senpai during the day. He’d been restless after they all got back to the hotel. Not the only one, either. Tezuka-san and Fuji-senpai had both gone out, too. A day like this one should have left them all tired enough to sleep, but it looked like not. Ryouma felt a little wound up, actually. Not dissatisfied with the recent games, but as if he was ready for another right now. He’d considered prodding one of the others into a match in the hotel ballroom, but when he’d mentioned the idea he’d gotten a vehement veto from Oishi-senpai. So, walking it was. He didn’t pay too much attention to where he was going, besides making sure to follow lit and crowded streets.

He didn’t notice Fuji-senpai until they nearly ran into each other.

“Echizen,” Fuji-senpai smiled. “Revisiting today’s sights?”

Ryouma blinked at him, and then at their surroundings. A familiar sign caught his eye. Count D’s Pet Shop. Of all the places to wind up.

“Not really,” he answered. “You?”

Fuji-senpai eyed the doors. “I did wonder whether Tezuka had come back here. When I asked him if he felt all right, earlier… Well.”

Ryouma gauged Fuji-senpai’s worry by what he had almost said directly, and decided it was greater than he’d seen it since their captain injured himself. “The shop did have a nice, relaxing atmosphere,” he offered.

Although, now he thought about it, he’d been feeling whatever he was feeling ever since they’d come out of this place. Well, there was one way to find out. He tapped on the doors, and pushed them open, hearing Fuji-senpai come in behind him.

The shop was empty of any humans, though the animals all eyed them with interest. The doors in the back wall were open. Ryouma glanced up at Fuji-senpai, who was frowning faintly. Part of Ryouma’s head was pointing out that they should announce themselves, or find a bell to ring, or something, and just ask whether Tezuka-san had been in. The rest of his mind didn’t seem to be listening, and when Fuji-senpai moved toward the back doors, Ryouma followed him.

He was positive that Tezuka-san was back there.

They made their way down a long hall, which, the logical part of Ryouma’s mind pointed out, was a little peculiar, even for this part of town. Logic seemed to be fighting a losing battle, though. The hall dead-ended at yet another pair of tall doors. This was the place. Ryouma pushed them open.

The two of them stepped into a forest.

Ryouma felt only vaguely surprised, though it would occur to him later that he should have been completely freaked out. Fuji-senpai certainly seemed shocked, standing still as a stone, wide eyes darting around. Then he stiffened. Ryouma followed his gaze and saw Tezuka-san lying stretched out, uncharacteristically lax, with his head resting in D’s lap. D’s fingers carded through his hair, and Tezuka-san seemed to be asleep.

“Tezuka?” Fuji-senpai choked.

Tezuka-san stirred, and a tiger lifted his head from D’s lap to blink at them.


D raised his brows at the two intruders. Well. He certainly hadn’t expected them to follow Tezuka-kun—hadn’t expected them to be able to. Fuji was shaking his head and staring very much like someone who distrusted the evidence of his senses. Echizen…

Echizen walked forward, grass swishing against his shoes. “Buchou,” he said, with surety.

Tezuka-kun narrowed his eyes and growled, tail flicking twice. Echizen ignored this sign of displeasure as if he’d had practice, and kept coming. His eyes, now that D could see them, were very calm and a little distant, and, as he came closer, their bright brown flickered with gold. Two more steps, and another tiger paced toward Tezuka-kun.

Tezuka-kun tucked his chin down and his growl scaled up into a startled, inquiring sound. He glanced at D.

“I think you saw more truly than you were aware, Tezuka-kun,” D murmured, thoughtfully. He was ready to swear that Echizen was entirely human, but the speed of this change said that the boy had a powerful affinity for the wildness in himself.

Tezuka-kun snorted, and stalked toward Echizen, glaring. Echizen twitched his ears and stood his ground, head tipped to one side. D put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Echizen either didn’t really understand the language of his current shape or else liked living dangerously. The young tiger ducked Tezuka-kun’s swipe, and made to nip the raised paw. A brief tussle of fur and growling resolved with Tezuka-kun lying on Echizen’s shoulders and washing his ears vigorously. Echizen-kun sighed, and laid his chin down on his paws.

Footsteps sounded beside D, and he looked up to see Fuji staring down at him with hard eyes.

“Have we been drugged?” the young man asked, very calmly.

D sighed at this echo of his detective’s favorite accusation. Humans. “You are under the influence of something,” he answered, gesturing to the smoking censer, “but it isn’t a drug.”

“What is it?”

A corner of D’s mouth curled up. “You might think of it as reality,” he suggested.

Fuji looked from D to his two friends, and D could see reluctant understanding in his tight expression. He was actually a bit impressed with this boy’s iron refusal to give way to panic or hysteria. His mind was evidently still working, in face of what must be very strange to him, and that was rare. Possibly troublesome, too.

“Tezuka,” Fuji said, quietly, “why…” He gestured to D. Probably, D decided, asking why someone so strong willed had let another person meddle with his integrity. An honest answer, which he had little doubt Tezuka-kun would give, would reveal far too much. He really might have to do something about Fuji’s interference.

Tezuka-kun leaned his forehead against Echizen-kun’s fur for a moment and sighed before he looked up. “Because this is what I am, Fuji,” he answered, his voice equally low. “You should forget.”

Fuji gazed at him for one frozen moment before his calm broke into a glare and he stepped toward Tezuka-kun. “Forget?! Forget that you turned into a tiger? Excuse me?!” His sharp gesture of denial turned into an upsweep of wings, and he fluttered up to a branch where he assaulted everyone’s ears with some very strident commentary.

Echizen-kun rolled onto his back, under Tezuka-kun’s arm, and propped himself up on his elbows. “I’d have thought you’d be bigger, Fuji-senpai,” he commented, with an insolent grin.

“Lovely markings, though,” D cut in over a particularly piercing rejoinder. “The Eurasian variety of Lapwing is a lovely bird.” He smiled up at Fuji, who had paused to cock his head in a remarkably skeptical manner. “Their common name refers to the irregular rhythm of their flight, a great fascination to bird watchers. They’re also one of the breeds that will feign injury to lead predators away from their nests.” Fuji flipped his wings at D, clearly not mollified much.

Echizen-kun, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and looking deeply amused. “Suits you perfectly,” he prodded.

Fuji-kun spread his wings, looking ready to dive at his young friend, and Echizen-kun crouched, ears back, tail lashing. Tigers weren’t technically able to grin, but he was definitely grinning. Fuji-kun flung himself off the branch, only to pull up at the last minute, and peck Echizen-kun soundly between the ears. Echizen-kun’s claws parted Fuji-kun’s tail feathers, for his trouble, and they were off through the trees, leaping and diving at each other. D was now very impressed with Fuji-kun’s amenability to the wild when he finally acted.

Tezuka-kun put a hand over his face and laughed, silently. D laid his hands on Tezuka-kun’s shoulders, urging him to lean back against D. Tezuka-kun gave in with a sigh. “He really should forget,” he said.

“Perhaps,” D murmured. “Your Fuji has more in him than is immediately obvious.”

Tezuka-kun snorted, settling his head against D’s chest, and purred as D combed his nails through Tezuka-kun’s fur. D contemplated the evening’s events, Echizen-kun’s part in particular. The speed of his change was unusual. Normally, a little of the incense D blended merely enabled humans to see what they normally did not. It took a higher concentration for human consciousness to enter into that part of the world they regularly ignored, and higher yet for a full transformation to follow. Fuji-kun had followed that pattern, though the break in his temper seemed to release a transformation hard on the heels of the second stage. Echizen-kun, though… to move so quickly, and into the shape of Tezuka-kun’s spirit…

D smiled down at the tiger snoozing on his lap. Tezuka-kun had had a good hunt, earlier, as D had hoped. He had brought Tezuka-kun here only to relax and refresh him from the strain of living among humans, but it might turn out that there was more for him to do tonight.

Tezuka-kun woke when the other two returned. Echizen-kun flung himself down in a pleased sprawl, panting. Fuji-kun landed on his head, ignoring the resulting ear twitching. Tezuka-kun sat up, adjusting his glasses.

“We should go soon.”

Echizen-kun heaved a vast sigh, and hauled himself upright, too, crossing his legs. D held out a hand for Fuji-kun to flutter down to, and stroked one finger over his head. Fuji-kun stretched, lacing his fingers together over his head, and smiled cheerfully at Echizen-kun.

“Maybe next time,” he suggested. Echizen-kun sniffed.

“That could be a bit difficult,” Tezuka-kun pointed out, dryly.

Echizen-kun looked at him, biting his lip. “Not for you, though,” he said, slowly. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

Tezuka-kun nodded, silently. Echizen-kun pursed his lips, and looked from him to D with a question in his eyes.

“There are ways for a human to take on another nature,” D told him, evenly. “They are not reversible.”

“D-san!” Tezuka-kun exclaimed, sharply, and frowned at his protege. “Echizen…”

Echizen-kun looked up at him, solemnly. “If it’s reality, like he said, why shouldn’t I want it?”

“Echizen,” Fuji remonstrated, softly, leaning to take the other boy’s shoulder, “it can’t be easy; and it must be dangerous.”

Echizen-kun made a derisive noise, ignoring Tezuka-kun’s definite nod. “Like pro tennis is easy and safe?”

“Tennis isn’t something you have to hide from everyone you know,” Tezuka-kun pointed out, approaching a glare.

“Not everyone,” Echizen-kun answered, simply.

Tezuka-kun had to swallow and take a long breath. D folded his hands in his lap, hiding his sympathy for both sides of the argument. When Tezuka-kun seemed unable to speak, though, he felt compelled to add a practical warning.

“It is unlikely you and Tezuka-kun would be able to have much contact, outside of your competitions.”

“No,” Tezuka-kun put in, at last. “We could share to an extent.” He shrugged, as D’s eyes widened. “You spoke of adaptation. My family learned to take the females’ way, when we started to take humans as mates, and share territory. Inside the family, at least.”

“Remarkable.” D felt the little bubble of joy that rose in his chest whenever he encountered some animal managing to win in spite of everything.

“I want this,” Echizen-kun said, very firmly, looking both Fuji and Tezuka-kun in the eye.

Fuji sighed, and smiled wryly. “If you’re that determined, I suppose that’s all there is to it.” He turned a sharper eye on Tezuka-kun. “And if you suggest, now, that I forget…”

Tezuka-kun ran a hand through his hair. “No, I won’t suggest it again.” His eyes softened a shade as he glanced at Echizen-kun. “The choice is yours.”

Echizen-kun gave him a bright, wicked smile. “I know.”

Tezuka-kun looked down his nose, and D chuckled. They would do well.

“Come here, then, Echizen-kun,” he directed. When Echizen stood in front of him, D drew his finger along one sharp corner of the censer, cutting it. He marked Echizen with his blood between the eyes, on his palms and over his heart, and called. A sharp twist of wind and scent swirled around the boy, and he folded up, gasping. When it left, Echizen-kun looked back at D with gold eyes and arched his whiskers in question. D held out his hand, and Echizen-kun swiped the blood off his fingers with a long, rough tongue. A second later he looked mildly revolted, and folded his arms.

“Done?” he asked.

“Done,” D smiled.

“Doesn’t feel all that different,” Echizen-kun observed.

“No, it wouldn’t I imagine,” D agreed. “You were half way there already. The result of accepting Tezuka-kun’s influence, I believe.”

Tezuka-kun blinked.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” D admitted, “but I have to wonder whether this would have happened, eventually, in any case.” Tezuka-kun and Fuji both moved closer to Echizen-kun, who relaxed a little, probably calmed by their scents. D ruffled Echizen-kun’s hair, getting a glower in return, and looked around at his three guests.

“It will be well.”


Ryouma yawned his way through the breakfast buffet, weaving among hotel guests back to the tables his teammates had secured. Tezuka-san, of course, had already efficiently filled his plate and chosen a seat. Ryouma contemplated the high proportion of meat on Tezuka-san’s plate, and then on his own, and sighed. At least his mother would probably be happy when his eating habits turned more to the Western food she prefered. Ryouma deposited his plate at the next place, glancing around to see who else was up and about, and ground to a halt.

“Echizen?” Fuji-senpai asked from behind him, setting down his own plate and laying a hand on Ryouma’s shoulder. He’d been doing that a lot, since last night; Ryouma didn’t mind, especially right now. Having Fuji-senpai’s scent so close steadied him.

“You didn’t mention that,” he muttered through his teeth to Tezuka-san.

Tezuka-san raised his brows, and followed Ryouma’s glance. “Ah. Yes. You get used to it.”

“What do you see?” Fuji-senpai asked, softly.

“Yukimura-san is a dragon,” Ryouma said, very flatly, not taking his eyes off the members of Rikkai who had just come through the door.

Fuji-senpai was silent for a long moment. “That could explain a few things,” he said, at last, in a contemplative tone. Ryouma glared at him, but couldn’t keep it up for long before his eyes were drawn back to Yukimura-san.

Who was now staring back at Ryouma.

Waving his team to an open table, Yukimura-san strolled toward theirs. Tension wound through Ryouma’s whole body, as Yukimura-san’s scent fanned over him, sharp and blue like lightning. “I see the reputation of that family for meddling is the truth,” Yukimura-san said, looking Ryouma up and down with a slight smile.

Ryouma jerked his chin up. “It was my own choice,” he snapped. He had a strong urge to claw that look off Yukimura’s face. His tension eased again as Tezuka-san’s scent folded around him. His captain had risen and stepped forward, nudging Ryouma just a bit behind him.

“Don’t push him yet, Yukimura. He’s still new to this.”

“Of course,” Yukimura-san murmured, stepping back. “I can wait.” His eyes narrowed for one moment, wild and glinting, and then he smiled at them sunnily and turned back toward his team. Ryouma took a deep breath, throttling down his own fizzing aggression, and leaned against Fuji-senpai.

“So, eventually, I get to bite his throat out, right?” he asked.

Fuji-senpai laughed, and even Tezuka-san’s shoulders twitched with what looked like suppressed amusement.

“Figuratively,” his captain specified, sternly.

“Ok, I can work with that.” Ryouma pulled out his chair and started in on his breakfast. As the comforting chatter of his team surrounded him, punctuated with Momo and Kikumaru-senpai stealing each other’s bacon, he relaxed further. He could work with this.

It was reality, after all.

End

In order to make locations and participants match up, I have hypothesized that the coast v coast competitions take place on the high school level, as well as the junior high level.

Last Modified: Apr 04, 12
Posted: Dec 26, 04
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Qem and 22 other readers sent Plaudits.

Time Table

This is a visual index containing all the Tennis Sanctuary fics in order of occurrence. It’s laid out as a table, since so many happen simultaneously.

This bit of insanity is a series of shorts that cross over Angel Sanctuary
with Prince of Tennis… and Card Captor Sakura and Yami
no Matsuei
and Good Omens and Shoujo Kakumei Utena
and Saiyuki and occasional snippets of other stuff like Bleach,
Fushigi Yuugi, Narnia
, Buffy and Into The Woods.
*authors wave cheerily from the shores of Fangirl Hell*. There are three
authors involved: myself,
Lys
ap Adin
, and Lady
Crysiana
. Stories
are labled with B, L or C accordingly. Guest appearances by Shiraume
and Chronolith.

Spoilers: Continuity flaps freely in the breeze, on this one,
and there are only mild spoilers for the Kantou arc of PoT and the ending
of CCS. There are particular YnM spoilers for the Devil’s Trill and St. Michael’s
arcs (manga). The spoilers for AS are more extensive, but also more implicit.
Saiyuki spoilers for character pasts shown in Gaiden.

Over-all genre: Total Crack, sub-genres noted in summaries. General rating:
I-2 to I-3, exceptions noted individually.

Since so many of the stories take place simultaneously, we decided to index
them as a table, as well as a list. Each story title appears under the team most
invovled, though more than one may be significant players.

Place mouse over story title to get summary.

 

 

Ohtori Academy

Rikkai Dai

Seigaku

Fudoumine

Hyoutei

St. Rudolph

Rokkaku

Backstory          
    Revenge
B
       
    Sight
C
       
Zettai
ni
CH
           
    Unexpected
Guests
B
       
        Camouflage
L
   
Kantou and After   Visiting
Hours
L
         
  Under
The Knife
B
On
The Other Side of Town
C
       
    Offers
C
       
  Long
Story
B
On
Playing With The Angelic Host
C
Unexpected
Visitors
C
     
  Facing
The Music
L
  Parallel
L
     
  Interlude
(I-4) L
         
  The
Shine
B
         
  Talking
Sense
L
         
  Belonging
(I-4) B
         
  Nine-Tenths
L
         
Engarde
CH
           
  Understanding
B
         
    Ministers
of Grace
B
       
      Declarations
of War
L
Profession
B
   
Double Entendre CH   Great
Minds
B
       
  Games
Without Frontiers
B
Arrangements
C
       
Such a Kicking CH            
      Secondhand
Angels
L
     
    Persuasion
C
Green
Eyed
L
     
    Headaches
C
     
    Relatives
C
    In
The Family
B
 
  Addition
and Distraction
B
      Regarding
B
 
  Marked
B
Tickets
to Zimbabwe
C
  A
Small Problem
L
Cost
B
 
    Mother
Hen
B
  Family
Reunion
L
Better
S
 
    Saintly
L
  Balance
C
   
  History
Lesson
B
Worth
(I-4) L
  Willing
B
   
  Over
The Bone
B
      Compassion
B
 
             
  The
Dotted Line
B
         
  Sealed
With A Kiss
B
         
  The
Morning After
L
         
             
Nationals and After   Baiting
B
    Answers
B
   
          Practicalities
B
 
             
             
      Post-Game
B
     
The
Dangers of Boredom
C
Echo
L
         
      Interesting
Times
B
     
        The Devil Went Down to Hyoutei L    
          Cooperative
Ventures
B
 
  Teacher
B
         
  Logical
Conclusion
(I-4) B
         
            Reconnaissance L
    Home Again, Home Again
B
       
High School     This Time B        
             
             
Later Life and Afterlife     Recruiting
C
       
    Compromise
S
       
    Hard
To Get
B
       
  A
Demon and Hir Boy
B
The
Direct Approach
C
       
  The
Sound of Music
B
         
    Irony
C
       

 

 

Extra: A Selection of Our Comments to Each Other During Writing. Set
One
, Set Two.

 

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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What’s in a Name

Belial and Kanzeon have tea. Drama, I-2

Character(s): Kanzeon, Mad Hatter

Belial took another sip of hir tea and aimed a glittering smile at the being
across the table. "So. We’ve caught up on gossip, traded fashion tips,
and one has flattered your latest blend. Don’t you think it’s time we got
around to business?"

Kanzeon lips curled up in a smile. "I still say sheer is the perfect look
for you."

"One will keep it in mind," Belial promised. "You’ll see it
the day one sees you in a hat. A curl-brimmed felt number with peacock feathers,
perhaps."

Kanzeon laughed. Belial half lidded hir eyes.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"Do what?" Kanzeon asked, innocently, immediately continuing. "I
would never interfere in the working out of a Heavenly sentence."

Belial took a demure sip. "Excellent delivery," se judged. "Good
form, not over-exaggerated. But the gleam in the eyes somewhat detracts from
the sincerity."

"I’ll make a note of it," Kanzeon promised.

"You gave them their original names back," Belial murmured.

"Only my nephew, who has, no one could argue, been making excellent progress.
Barring that lingering taste for guns." Kanzeon leaned back and crossed
hir legs. "I certainly can’t be responsible for what two random humans
name their children. Perhaps the mothers thought the names would be efficacious
against the demonic blood from the fathers." Kanzeon’s smile was angelic.

Which was to say, Belial reflected, it was vicious, ruthless and hungry. Se
couldn’t help approving, really. "Well, one will keep an eye on them,
then," se said, rising. "Since they are, after all, the children
of one’s own people."

"I wouldn’t have it any other way," Kanzeon purred.

 

End

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Sep 23, 05
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Revenge

How Ryouma got so girl-clueless. Humor, I-1

Character(s): Arariel, Gabriel

Gabriel knew she probably shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t becoming for one
of the Great Angels to curse a human out of pure spite. But she couldn’t
quite help the warm glow of vengeful satisfaction as she completed the last
flourish on the malediction. She’d been having a bad day. Actually, she’d
been having a bad century. Heaven was in complete uproar and disarray, Sevothtarte
was gaining more power every day, and Gabriel had a bad feeling that she
was the White Bastard’s next target.

So she really hadn’t been in any mood to be forgiving when a human male had
sidled up behind her and squeezed her breasts. And then stood there with
a considering look, as if he were evaluating the merits of this or that loaf
of bread, before declaring her "nice" and asking if she wanted
to take a ride with him. The leer had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t
talking about cars.

And since she had been down in Assiah covertly, she couldn’t obliterate him
on the spot, which only added insult to injury.

"Gabriel-sama?" Arariel leaned around the doorway, and raised her
brows at the seal Gabriel had just completed. "Um. Someone due for a
little divine punishment?"

"Eminently," Gabriel said, between her teeth.

Arariel took a few cautious steps into the room. "Isn’t it a little unkind
to take it out on an unborn, though?"

Gabriel smiled more genuinely. "He’ll be fine with the boys. It’s just
girls that he won’t have any skills at all with. The child shouldn’t have
a problem; it’s his father that will have fifty fits." She directed
her smile down at the completed curse.

Arariel put a gentle arm around her shoulders. "Feel better, now Gabriel-sama?"

Gabriel laughed.

 

End

Last Modified: Jun 10, 12
Posted: Jan 11, 05
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Sight

A bit of Tezuka’s family background. Drama With Humor, I-2

Character(s): Tezuka Kunimitsu

In one of the few speeches Kunimitsu’s father made that Kunimitsu’s grandfather
approved of, the man declared, "Everything is about connections – who
you know, you notices you, and especially who you can rely on." His
grandfather had declared the rest of the speech to be garbage, but that was
hardly unexpected.

Tezuka had been eight at the time, and had therefore not felt that going
to his mother to ask about what types of people he should know was inappropriate.

Tezuka Ayana gave her son a particularly bright smile and queried, "Why
ask me rather than your father or grandfather?"

Kunimitsu looked at his mother gravely and replied, "I’ll meet all their
associates because I’m the only son. You have other friends." He stood
and waited politely as Ayana nodded consideringly.

"Go and get your coat on," Ayana said decisively. "You can
come with me on my errands and meet my friends, and some family." She
shooed Kunimitsu off to get his coat.

Five hours later, Kunimitsu decided that his mother knew some very strange
people. Especially the loud drunken lady who lived in the disappearing house.
Though he had to admit that the toymaker with the tiny dolls was interesting,
if insane, and the archeology professor seemed to be a man that even his
grandfather would consider upstanding. He wasn’t sure why they had visited
a willow tree. His questions were mostly answered when they arrived at an
apartment, where his mother knocked on the door.

"This is my younger cousin’s home," she explained. "He just
got back from China, so I wanted to give him a few hours to move in before
saying hello." She smiled brightly as the door opened a crack, and didn’t
flinch when the person on the other side reacted to her presence with what
could not be called a screech only for politeness’s sake.

"Xiao Lang," Ayana said brightly, "It’s wonderful to see you.
I’m your cousin, Tezuka Ayana, remember?"

Kunimitsu noted that the boy didn’t seem to be past his teens, certainly,
and that the words seemed to calm him down. "You look like my oldest
sister," he managed, taking in a deep breath. "…Uh, so why are
you over here?"

Ayana gestured to Kunimitsu. "I wanted my son to be able to see like
most of the family does. He has enough latent power for it, and he really
needs to be on his guard for that sort of thing, especially now, doesn’t
he?"

Xiao Lang eyed Kunimitsu. "Is he…?"

"He belongs to his father’s family," Ayana reassured him. "Don’t
worry about interference from me – I think you and that girl are adorable."
She smiled brightly as this caused Xiao Lang to blush and sputter. "Can
you help me?" she asked finally.

"…bring him in," the boy sighed. "I’ll see what I can do."

Afterwards, Kunimitsu found that he did understand why they went to see the
willow tree. He noticed many other things as well, and his mother explained,
as they walked, that what Kunimitsu saw had been there already, but most
people just didn’t notice it. Most of her friends were people who could and
did see those things, she went on.

Kunimitsu nodded, turning to catch a glimpse of a boy a year or two older
than himself, who was running after a girl who had to be his sister. "That
boy has wings," he commented.

"Probably an angel," Ayana said. "There have been a lot of
them around, recently. No one knows why."

"An angel," Kunimitsu murmured. "I’ll remember."

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
Name (optional):
2 readers sent Plaudits.

Zettai Ni

Kurai finds something odd in her realm. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Himemiya Anthy, Kurai

"Are you sure?"

Kurai sparred Noise a quick glance over her shoulder. Noise’s one wing drooped
noticeably, her eyes were dark with worry, and she chewed—cutely—on her bottom
lip. She knew that she was asking a lot of her retainer, but she had a feeling
that it would be best to investigate this newest anomaly within her realm on her
own. Even if it did make Noise deeply and obviously unhappy.

"I’m sure."

"I don’t like this."

Kurai laughed before she thought better of it. "I know. I’m sorry."

Noise sighed with great feeling and ran her hands through her hair, making it
stand on end. "No, you’re not. But could you at least avoid getting too damaged
as I do not want to explain to those who care about you exactly what happened
and why."

She put her forehead against her best friend and companions. "I can’t make
promises I can’t keep. But I’ll try." Without moving her head she locked
eyes with Noise and grinned, "I wouldn’t want you to deal with an unhappy
Setsuna."

Noise tilted her head up and pressed a kiss against Kurai’s head. "Be quick.
Be safe."

Kurai could only nod. Anything else would have been too much and unnecessary.
She turned away from Noise’s worried eyes to contemplate the perfect silver
bubble that had manifested on the out edges of her realm. The bubble touched
Assiah, butting up against so closely that it seemed to rub raw the psychic
skin keeping the planes apart. Staring at it she thought she saw flickering
images of a castle, a forest, a cathedral, and for a moment, and endless
plain of horizons. She didn’t really know how she was going to get from the
here of Gehenna to the there of the not quite real place
inside that bubble. Not knowing what else to do she placed her hands against
the silver, misty edge and pushed forward.

She heard Noise’s yell and then a roar like the rushing of a thousand wings and
then there was nothing.

"Why are you here?"

She looked up into eyes too dark a shade of green to be quite human and the way
eternity echoed was definitely not human. The girl, on the edge of womanhood with
the subtle swell of breast and hip just beginning, wore a short red shift and gold
bracelets that looked more like shackles than jewelry watched with perfect neutrality.
Kurai picked herself up off the gray, dusty ground as she considered her answer.
The emptiness of the place, and the knowledge in her companion’s eyes, makes her
nervous.

"Because this place is in my realm."

The woman-girl cocked her head to the side, purple hair falling along the side
of her face, half obscuring those inhuman eyes. "The place inside my head
is much bigger than the place outside it."

Kurai did not know what to make of that comment, so she went around it. "Who
are you?"

That seemed to give the woman-girl a pause. She fiddled with the gold bracelets—shakles—awkwardly
as she thought about it. "I am the Witch."

"Witch?" Kurai repeated, tasting the term and the power inherent within
it.

"Because I have no prince to save me, because I want no prince to save me,
I am the Witch." The woman-girl said plainly. There was no sorrow in this
statement, only simple fact. "My world is fractured," the woman-girl
locked eyes with Kurai and she felt as if she were drowning in all the years of
this creature’s life on the endless plain of horizons, "I am fractured."

"Why?" Kurai managed to gasp out, because she could not stand under
the weight of that self-knowledge. A distint rumble of what might be thunder rolled
around inside the emptiness. The woman-girl turned so fast her hair spun out in
tangled arch around her. The look of naked fear made Kurai reach to touch her,
but she froze when the girl snapped back around with a movement so fast it could
not have been mortal, maybe not even immortal.

"What are you?" she whispered.

The woman-girl grabbed her by the shoulders, staring down in Kurai’s eyes with
an intensity that chilled her to the bone, and said with fierce desperateness.
"The swords are coming, you have to run."

"Swords?" Kurai echoed dumbly. She was so confused. Even when Alexial
came back as Setsuna and the world turned inside out, and Heaven and Hell were
in chaos, she had not been this confused.

The woman-girl shoved her away so hard she stumbled, nearly twisting her ankle.
"RUN!" She screamed. The woman-girl couched down, hair falling over
her face, obscuring those wild, inhuman eyes. "You have to run. The swords…"
the woman-girl’s voice broke.

Kurai turned to start to run as the ground under her feet began to fracture. Cracks
forming underneath her faster than she could move, the constant shaking nearly
throwing her to the fragmenting ground. She tried to scream as the ground vanished
and she was falling into nothing, and then there was darkness that wasn’t so much
the abscence of light, but the abscence of everything.

"Oi! Are you alright?"

Bright blue eyes and bangs the colour of easter basket grass filled her vision,
and Kurai could only gape.

She was flat on her back in the middle of a grass hill. The birds sang sweetly
in the summer air and she smelled honeysuckle and roses. The girl leaning over
her smelled of roses, tea, and something sharp and tangy. And the desolate, endless
plain was gone. Kurai sat up and rubbed her head. "I … I think I am alright."

The girl smiled brilliantly, "Good! I was worried for a moment. You started
falling down the stairs and would have gotten hurt, but I caught you and brought
you here."

Kurai stared at her. There was something around the edges of the girl. Something
that shone like starlight. Like the woman-girl in the endless plain this one was
not quite … normal. There was a quality of eternity etched into her being like
the runes etched into Alexial’s sword. The girl’s smile faultered for a moment
and Kurai realized that she had been staring a little too long. "I’m …
I’m sorry. Where am I?"

The girl frowned, and Kurai realized that was a very odd thing to say. She forced
herself to smile apologetically. "I’m new." She said by way of explination.

That seemed to clear up everything. "Yeah, the Academy can be confusing for
new students." She stuck out her hand in what struck Kurai as a singularly
straight-forward gesture. As if everything this girl did was direct, honest, and
so innocent it hurt. "I’m Tenjou Utena."

"I’m Kurai." She reached out to take Utena’s hand when the other girl
was tackled by what appeared at first glance to be a low flying missile of some
sort.

"UUUUUTTTEEEEEEENNNNNNNNAAAAA!" the missile sort itself out as a giggle
girl with dark brown hair and the sweetest smile Kurai had seen since Setsuna.
The girl nuzzled Utena, practically purring her head off. "MMmmmmm found
you!" she giggled.

"Utena-sama," Kurai looked up to see the woman-girl of the endless plain.
Except she was wrong. The echoing power, and the knowledge, and the intensity
of person was gone—even if the decided otherness was still there. Her hair was
contained in tightly bound crown around her head, and those inhuman eyes were
hidden by glasses. But it was the girl, or at least part of her. Kurai chewed
on her bottom lip.

Utena held the brown haired girl at arms length, but smiled gently at her. "Wakaba,
I meet someone new."

That got the attention of both the not-woman-girl and the brown haired missile.
"This is Kurai. And she’s new to Ohtori Academy."

Kurai couldn’t focus on the introductions that happened afterward. She felt too
disassociated and confused and completely and totally out of her depth to take
in any more information. Her mind was spinning. She found herself arm in arm with
the bouncy, giggling brown haired girl and the sweetness of her soul overwhelmed
everything. Being near the girl was like … hot chocolate in winter or strawberries
in the middle of summer. She could feel herself relax bit by bit, as the girl—Wakaba?—giggle
up at Utena, tried to draw Anthy into conversation, and showed Kurai the landmarks
of this place.

She could feel power underneath her feet, could feel the different flavours of
it as she walked the campus. And she could feel a very subtle, very familiar taint
to everything. A feeling of unspeakable foulness that lurked on the edges of everything
and made her shudder.

It wasn’t until the sky began to change colour into the first hints of dusk that
Kurai realized that she should probably leave, go back to Noise, and the relative
safety of her own realm. She gently disentangled herself from Wakaba, and politely
thanked Utena. Who smiled, shook her head, and said that no, no she was glad to
have been there to help. Utena helped her to her feet and Kurai felt for a moment
the flicker of a thousand wings and the shine of starlight.

And she was unnerved.

But it was Anthy, with her dark eyes and quiet manner that unnerved her the most.
And when she turned to leave, it was Anthy who caught her eyes, even behind the
shadowed rescesses of her glass. It was in those dark green eyes that she saw
that woman-girl, that she saw Witch.

The Swords

And then she was standing in her own realm, next to Noise, shivering as if she
had walked into the dead of winter naked.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Unexpected Guests

How Ryouma’s uncle came to be away from the temple. Drama with Humor, I-3

Temples and their priests got all kinds of visitors, some of them pretty odd.
But the last thing Konzen had expected, when he opened the door to answer
the bell, was for a tangle of limbs to land on and hug him while crowing
"Sanzou!"

Konzen really didn’t like to be touched, something his ex-wife had pointed
out frequently. All told, his older brother’s death and Konzen’s inheriting
the family temple had just been a handy excuse for the divorce. But back
to the business at hand.

Konzen promptly hauled the intruder loose and threw it into the wall, where
it resolved into a rather gangly, golden-eyed young man. "Don’t be an
idiot," he instructed. "There hasn’t been a Sanzou for hundreds
of years." He frowned. "And why would you be looking for one at
a place like this?"

"Oh, right. So, what are you called, now?" The boy’s grin hadn’t
dimmed at all, despite a landing that had cracked plaster.

"Echizen Konzen, the same thing I’ve been called all my life," Konzen
said, brusquely, wondering whether he should inquire for escapees at the
local mental hospitals. "Who the hell are you?"

"Again? Ah. Um." The boy scratched his head. "Well, if you don’t
remember, then this’ll be kind of a long story." He looked up hopefully.
"I don’t suppose you have any food around?"

Konzen was staring and making a mental list of hospitals to call, when his
daughter looked into the entryway. "Otou-sama? Do we have a visitor?"

A good question, since he still wasn’t sure what this person was. Besides,
now, gaping at Nanako, thunderstruck. Konzen hoped he wasn’t a pervert, like
Konzen’s younger brother or a few of his college associates. But, no, because
the boy turned, wide-eyed to ask, "You have a daughter?"

The thought drifted across Konzen’s mind that maybe the boy really did know
him.

He shook his head impatiently and barked, "Who are you and what do you
want?"

"Well," the boy fidgeted, "like I said, it’s a long story…"
His stomach interrupted with a noisy growl.

Nanako put a hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle. "Why don’t I get
you two some tea and a snack?" she offered.

Konzen rubbed a hand over his face. "Might as well." He had a bad
feeling he wasn’t getting an answer until this… visitor got food.

A few hours later Konzen had a headache, and was considering the benefits of
sharing it.

He pinned his visitor with a level glare. "Let me get this straight. You’re
an elemental spirit, and you knew me in a past life, and, because of the
events of that life, you have a couple very powerful demons after you now."

"Yup!" Goku (he’d finally gotten the boy’s name half way into the
story) agreed, tossing another dumpling into his mouth.

Konzen frowned, rubbing his forehead. The thing was, it all sounded horribly
familiar, though he had no idea why. The only memory he had that twitched
at Goku’s rambling recitation was a memory of someone laughing. He didn’t
even know if it had been a man or a woman; only that whoever it was had been
really damn annoying.

"And you came here to hole up and get some rest," he finished.

"Yup!" The cheerful, absolute trust in Goku’s eyes disturbed Konzen.
He’d never been looked at like that in his entire life.

Not this life, anyway.

He shook his head sharply, wishing he could glare at his own thoughts. "Great.
Fine. Sleep in the guest room. Tonight, at least," he added, over Goku’s
happy crow. Temples were supposed to have charity, his father’s voice said,
in his mind. Konzen mentally gave the old man the finger. Still, it would
give him time to call the hospitals.


"Aah!" Konzen bolted up in bed, panting, jerked awake from the most
vivid, and hideous, dreams he’d ever had.

Lately, anyway.

"Sanzou?! I mean, Konzen?!" Goku skidded into his room with a rather
ornate staff in hand. Konzen’s eyes nearly crossed as visions of this moment
in dozens of other rooms slid through his mind. Visions that usually involved
demons, too. Konzen winced and then growled as he heard that laugh again,
echoing through his head.

It did make him think of something, though. "Goku, can any of the demons
after you track you?" he demanded.

Goku blinked. "Um. I don’t think so. Well, maybe except for that one…"
he trailed off, face screwed up in thought.

"In other words, yes." Konzen threw off the covers. "That gun
you said I had. Do you know where it is now?"

As Goku opened his mouth a tiny glow like a golden firefly dropped out of the
ceiling. It grew to about head size and then vanished.

A handgun and a box of shells clattered onto the floor.

This time, the laughter was audible to everyone.

Konzen glared at the ceiling. He also, however, scooped up the gun. "I’m
not having demons in my temple," he stated. "We’re leaving tomorrow."

"Okay," Goku agreed. "I’ll go get some more sleep, then. ‘Night,
Konzen." He trailed out, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Konzen closed the door, flicked on the light, and sat down to write a couple
letters.


"You shouldn’t be alone for long, and in the meantime, send all the temple
business over to Yoshimori," Konzen told his daughter. "And what
is all this?" he added, frowning at the boxes and baskets strewn over
the table.

"Lunch," she told him, serenely. "So you and Goku-san don’t
have to stop too soon."

One of Konzen’s maybe-memories jabbed him, suggesting that this was a very
good idea
. "Fine." He sighed, aggravated. "I don’t know
when we’ll be back, but I’ll write when I can."

She smiled, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Don’t worry, Otou-sama.
And I won’t either. Okay?"

He smiled in return.

As she waved him out the door, and he walked toward where Goku was head-down
in the trunk of the car, exploring, Konzen reflected on how little his life
seemed to have changed. The maybe-memories fit in with disturbing neatness.
Those others who’d been beside him even reminded him a lot of…

He stopped dead for a long moment before common sense rescued him. No. That
was ridiculous. It couldn’t possibly be them.

Definitely not.

In any case, he sure as hell wasn’t going to look up his college classmates
to ask whether they’d been demons in a past life. He snorted at the very
idea, and got into the car. "Goku! Hurry up."

Two weeks later…

Nanjirou sorted the mail, and raised a brow. A letter from Nii-san? He tore
it open and read.

Dear Worthless Little Brother,

I have something to take care of that may take a while, so quit wasting
your time over there and come mind the temple while I’m gone. Don’t worry,
Nanako will take care of the house.

Corrupt my daughter, and I’ll put holes in you big enough to fit your tennis
balls through.

Konzen

Nanjirou snorted. Yeah, that was Nii-san all over. As if Nanjirou were ever
going to be conned into being a priest!

On the other hand…

Nanjirou tapped the envelope against his chin. They had always meant to go
back some time. And Ryouma would be twelve soon, and the right age to start
at Seigaku. It would be a free house, and someone to do the laundry. He strolled
upstairs and stuck his head into his wife’s office, caroling, "Honey?
Got a letter you should see…"

 

End

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Sep 23, 05
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Camoflage

Crowley under cover. Humor, I-1

Character(s): Crowley

As far as cover went, it was nearly perfect. Sure, there were dangers, like the
gimlet eye of the angel, who certainly suspected that something was not right,
but couldn’t put his finger on what that something might be. Crowley could deal
with that in his sleep, and frequently did.

Dealing with his host body, on the other hand, presented certain inconveniences.
Since he was only subletting, as it were, he could only lurk within his host’s
subconscious, rather than taking outright control, and that meant dealing with
his host’s little freaks and foibles.

All this meant was that he was not presently napping, but was bouncing on a tennis
court, as his host fan-boyed over his buchou’s latest cool new move. In the back
of Jirou’s head, Crowley rolled his eyes.

He was going to be very glad when the tournament season was over, and they
could go back to napping their way through Jirou’s adolescence.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Visiting Hours

Mad Hatter visits Yukimura in the hospital. Drama, I-3

An individual of duller perception might have assumed se was seeking younger patients
to entertain. A fool might have lashed out in a misguided effort to drive hir
away.

It was not Seiichi’s judgment that was numb, and no one could call him a
fool. “May I help you?” he rasped, and it galled him to find himself
grateful for the ability to speak. Moving a hand to the call button, just in case,
would have given away his weakness, and gained nothing, so he kept his hands folded
and seethed at his body’s betrayal.

Belial smiled. “One,” se said, “was inclined to ask you the
same.”

There were a multitude of possible responses to that. Seiichi considered hir smile,
and tilted his head oh-so-carefully to the side. “I’m listening,”
he murmured. “Go on.”

Belial sat, and made hir offer.

In the end, neither was surprised that he accepted it.

Last Modified: May 16, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Under the Knife

Mad Hatter and Yukimura start to get acquainted. Drama, I-3

Seiichi was never sure what, exactly, alerted him to Mad Hatter’s presence.
Se moved like a shadow. He always knew when se arrived, though, as though
the air pressure had suddenly dropped and painted the breeze with a hint
of coming clouds.

"Experimental surgery, hm?" he asked without turning away from the
window.

"One could just snap one’s fingers." Hatter’s breath was warm against
the back of his neck. "One gets the impression from your other visitors
that a miraculous recovery would be only what’s expected from you."

"Miraculous?" Seiichi repeated in dry question.

"That was one’s business, as a Virtue. His Majesty would probably forgive
one moonlighting, just this once." Seiichi could hear Hatter’s smile,
and the darkness in it, delicate and raw. Dangerous. Which was fine as long
as it didn’t go beyond the two of them.

"And have you had much to say to my other visitors?" Seiichi inquired,
turning slowly around and trying not to grit his teeth too visibly over the
clumsy way his feet answered him.

Belial gave him a bright and charming curve of lips that didn’t match hir
eyes. "They are delightful boys, aren’t they? But one finds you by far
the most interesting." Mad Hatter ran a fingertip down Seiichi’s cheek
to trace his lower lip before falling away.

Seiichi sharpened his gaze to the edge that would hold Hatter. "Good."

 

End

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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On the Other Side of Town

Ryouma gets an offer. Humor, I-2

Character(s): Echizen Ryouma, Michael

Ryoma looked at the boy across from him skeptically. "Not that I think
you’re lying, but remind me why you’re doing this again?"

"Call it sibling rivalry," Michael replied shortly. "Anyway,
I can guarantee you that your captain’s shoulder will be as good as if it
were never hurt, once my people are done."

Ryoma raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "You remind me a lot of
someone I know. I’d bet your brother would remind me of someone, too."
Seeing Michael’s dark look, Ryoma shrugged. "Thanks for the help, anyway.
Why not just go to Tezuka-buchou?"

"Would he have agreed to let us help him?" Michael replied.

"…right. Thanks," said Ryoma.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Offers

Michael talks to Tezuka. Drama with Humor, I-2

Character(s): Michael, Tezuka Kunimitsu

Tezuka was taking a break and drinking some water when he noticed the angel
approaching. He was actually somewhat intrigued – this particular angel
wasn’t doing anything to hide what he was, and had a look on his face
that Tezuka recalled from constant dealings with Ryoma. He found himself
somewhat surprised when the angel settled on the bench next to him.

“This is gonna be a weird question,” the angel said, “But do
you believe in angels?”

Tezuka considered this question gravely, looking out towards the courts. He felt
rather than saw the angel turn towards him and look at his profile. “I don’t
disbelieve the possibility,” Tezuka said gravely, “But I’m not
religious.”

The angel snorted. “Right. Well, hell and heaven exist, even though it’s
not like most people say. Actually, and don’t ever tell anyone this, hell
isn’t a bad place, with the management the way it is. But we have to keep
some sort of standards, and that means that we all want the best souls, like you.”

Tezuka turned to look at the angel. “So you’re claiming to be an angel.”

The angel scowled. “Of course I’m an angel! What’d you think
I was, a demon?”

Tezuka said with perfect serenity, “I wouldn’t think that most angels
would be so enthusiastic about being under Lucifer.” He watched with interest
as flames sparked around the angel’s head, and continued to watch as the
angel got up to pace back and forth.

“I’m NOT interested in being…in being ruled by that bastard,”
the angel snapped. “He has no business doing what he’s doing, and…Look,
that’s not the point.” The angel brought his wings out. “See?
Angel.”

Tezuka nodded. “I’m Tezuka Kunimitsu. It’s a pleasure to meet
you.”

“…I’m Michael,” muttered the angel. He began to pace back
and forth. “I’m not one of those people who schemes and does all that
behind the scenes shit,” said Michael. “So I just want to ask you
if I can fix your arm for you, get your team back on track…”

“No, thank you,” said Tezuka politely. “I rely on myself.”

Michael scowled and crossed his arms. “…fine, I can respect that.
What about the rest of your team? Making sure that they’re not hurt? You
know, like that kid, with the gold eyes and the cat.”

“Echizen is well the way he is,” said Tezuka sharply. “If you’d
like to help someone else in need, Tachibana Kippei has had an injury recently.”

Michael nodded. “Fine, I won’t make an offer about Echizen. Good luck
on the courts.” With that, the angel strolled off. Tezuka watched him leave,
making a note to watch the other teams closely, once he returned.

Last Modified: Jan 04, 05
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Long Story

Belial introduces hirself to Rikkai. Drama, I-3

Masaharu nudged his partner. "Who’s that?" he asked, nodding at the
slight, lean figure in black lounging against the fence. Yagyuu finished
a swallow of much needed water and raised a brow.

"I think that’s Yukimura-san’s visitor. The one from the hospital that
no one ever quite managed to meet."

They both glanced over at Yukimura, who was laughing up at Yanagi. Masaharu
smiled. He wasn’t precisely pleased that he and Yagyuu had just been swept
6-2 by those two, but it was good to see Yukimura back in top form. Back
to the question at hand, though.

"Oh, glorious leader," Masaharu drawled. "Did you invite the
extra audience, today?"

For one heartbeat, Yukimura froze. "You noticed, then," he murmured.

Masaharu eyed their visitor’s flamboyantly tailored tail coat and top hat.
"A little hard not to."

Yukimura turned to face the watcher, eyes narrow. "Belial," he said,
low and cold.

"Don’t you think it’s time one introduced oneself to your people?"
the… man? Masaharu squinted… asked. Masaharu had to admit, he was impressed.
He’d never seen anyone stand firm in face of an angry Yukimura, let alone
stay so nonchalant.

"My people," Yukimura repeated, softly. "Yes."

"Of course, dear Seiichi-san, one wouldn’t dream of interfering. Much."
The man (?) brushed a rose in front of smiling lips, and Masaharu shared
a startled glance with his partner. Where had that come from? Their visitor
sauntered closer, running hooded eyes over all of them as the rest of the
team drew closer to see what had caught their captain’s attention. They received
an extravagant bow. "So. Greetings. One is called Mad Hatter."

A frisson danced down Masaharu’s spine as his gaze was caught by eyes blue
as fire, and laughing. Laughing the way someone standing, somehow untouched,
in the middle of catastrophe might laugh. His breath shivered in his chest,
and he only realized that he’d taken a step forward when Yagyuu’s hand on
his shoulder jerked him to a stop.

"And under other circumstances," Mad Hatter murmured with a note
of longing caress, "one would be delighted to have you for oneself.
Ah well." He blew Masaharu a kiss, winked at Yagyuu, and turned back
just in time to meet Yukimura’s purposeful stride toward him with hands spread
against their captain’s chest. "One is most pleased to see you so fully
recovered, Seiichi. One is sure the results will be well worth it."

And he was gone. Leaving Yukimura looking at the place he had been with a tangled
mix of amusement and anger in his face.

"Who," Akaya asked, wide eyed, "was that?"

Yukimura passed a hand over his forehead and sighed. "Do all of you remember
how my condition took a sudden turn for the better, a few months back?"

Everyone glanced at each other and nodded. Sanada and Yanagi, Masaharu noted,
were hovering.

"Well, that was the deal I made…"

End

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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On Playing with the Angelic Host

Tezuka’s rules about angels. Humor, I-2

Tezuka adjusted his glasses and gave Ryoma the quiet, grave look that meant
that the boy had done something that was not, as it were, directly forbidden,
but that Ryoma certainly should have known better, given his buchou, the
world, and the heavenly host. "Echizen," said Tezuka calmly, "What
have I told you about dealing with the heavenly host?"

"…don’t take computer games from them." Ryoma paused. "Oh, and
ask how things are going in heaven and hell, because it’s always good to be informed
about one’s allies and opponents." Ryoma’s expression was decidedly sulky.
"It’s not as if I asked for anything like wings."

Tezuka chose to ignore this and simply murmured, "Who was it?"

Echizen blinked. "…uh, shortish, red hair, talked like a punk…"

"Michael, then," Tezuka said. He fell silent, his brow furrowed only
to the point that people who knew him very well would notice. "He came to
me."

Ryoma snorted. "Stupid of him to ask you…"

Tezuka’s expression cleared. "He asked about you, actually."

"…..I hope, whatever it was, you said no."

"I pointed him in Tachibana’s direction." Ryoma could have sworn that
Tezuka’s eyes were smiling behind his glasses, but he decided that he didn’t want
to know what had just been inflicted on the Fudoumine captain.

"So, buchou," said Ryoma brightly, brushing angelic concerns away for
the moment, "You’re up for a game, right?"

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Unexpected Visitors

Michael encounters Setsuna at Fudoumine. Drama with Humor, I-2

Character(s): Michael, Mudou Setsuna

The search for Tachibana led Michael to another set of tennis courts. Michael
didn’t really see the attraction in this particular sport, though he
understood the need to compete as the underlying principle of sports in general.
He was about to walk over to the player called Tachibana when a familiar
voice rang out behind him. “Oh, it’s you. Hey, what are you doing
here?” Michael turned to eye Setsuna, not without a little surprise.

“I thought all of you left,” Setsuna continued. Despite his words,
he was smiling easily, standing in his favorite slouched position. “So what’s
up with you being here?”

“Belial is playing with souls, and I don’t want him to get a lot,”
Michael replied shortly. He didn’t continue to say that he didn’t
want Belial doing anything to benefit his brother in the long run, since Setsuna
would assume it, anyway.

“Oh,” said Setsuna. “I’m just here to meet this guy I
know, Tachibana Kippei. He’s kind of rough, but an okay guy. Good about
protecting his friends.” Setsuna nodded over at Tachibana, who seemed to
have noticed them and then dismissed the thought of them to continue practice.
“We probably can’t catch him right now – they’re busy
working for the nationals.”

Michael frowned. “So you’re friends with the guy Tachibana? Someone
suggested that he might need some help.”

“Pfft. Not for his playing,” Setsuna declared, grinning. “Guy’s
incredible on the courts. I love to see him kicking ass out there.” Setsuna
frowned and shifted. “But yeah, if anything goes wrong with the shot he
took to the head, he might need help.”

“Well, I could…” Michael paused, remembering his second’s
warning about offering angelic assistance without considering the phrasing. “I
could help him out, if that happens. If you really want me to.”

“Sure,” said Setsuna easily. “If you wanna help out a friend.”
Setsuna waved to Tachibana again and turned to jog off. “Anyway, catch you
later.”

Michael settled on the edge of the courts to wait for practice to end.

Last Modified: Sep 05, 08
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Facing the Music

Sanada’s and Yanagi’s reactions to the whole story about Belial. Drama with Angst, I-3

Saying that Genichirou and Renji were not happy simply did not address the
magnitude of their feelings on the subject.

Seiichi found that he couldn’t really blame them; his own feelings upon seeing
Mad Hatter’s hunger for Niou were comparable enough that chiding them would
have made him a hypocrite.

“What’s in it for him?” Genichirou demanded, after his explanation,
in simple terms, of the nature of his deal with Mad Hatter.

“That,” Seiichi said, coolly, with the weight of his team’s
eyes upon him, “is a private matter between me and Hatter-san.”

His team allowed the matter to drop, for the time being, but Genichirou and
Renji fell in at his side as he locked the clubhouse after practice. They
followed him home, making small talk about the club and the team’s
preparations for Nationals, and lingered in the kitchen to make small talk
with his mother while she prepared a tray of snacks for them before Seiichi
led them upstairs to his room.

Seiichi took the bed, Renji chose his normal seat at Seiichi’s desk,
and Genichirou paced back and forth. The pacing lasted for some time before
Genichirou whirled, crossing his arms and glaring at Seiichi. “Were
you going to at least tell us?”

“If the need arose,” Seiichi said calmly, sipping his tea. “Which
it did, today.”

That set Genichirou to pacing again, while Renji took a cake and asked, “A
deal with the devil?”

“Not the devil,” Seiichi corrected him. “Hatter-san is a
lieutenant of the devil’s, if I understand correctly.”

“And what does the devil’s lieutenant want with a junior high
student’s soul?” Renji asked.

“I haven’t asked. Hatter-san is not the type to give away unnecessary
information.”

“And knowing what he wants with your soul isn’t necessary information,
Seiichi?” Genichirou was verging on an explosion.

“Not particularly,” Seiichi said. “When you’re not
certain whether your body is going to be able to draw its next breath, and
you can’t lift your hand to scratch your nose, and the tennis courts
seem so far away that they might as well be on another planet, you find that
the concept of hell loses a great deal of its terror.”

Genichirou stopped mid-stride, and when Renji spoke, he sounded stricken.
“It was that bad?”

“Worse,” Seiichi said.

Genichirou turned back to him. “I don’t like it,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to,” Seiichi said, “but it was
my choice to make, and I have no regrets.” He met Genichirou’s
gaze and held it.

Genichirou nodded, satisfied, or at least placated, before grabbing his bag
and leaving abruptly.

Seiichi laughed, soft and wry. “He took that rather well, don’t
you think?”

“Well enough, although I suspect he’s heading off to disembowel
straw dummies,” Renji said, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t
suppose you’d care to tell me what the terms of your contract are?”

“That’s really a rather personal question, Renji,” Seiichi
told him.

“If you tell me, perhaps I can find a way around it,” Renji countered.

Seiichi blinked, and then smiled honestly for the first time since Mad Hatter
had revealed hirself to his team. “I doubt you’ll find one.”

“It’ll make me feel better to try,” Renji insisted.

“All right,” Seiichi relented. “I’ll see about getting
you a copy of the contract, such as it is.”

“Thank you.” Renji stood. “I need to be going. See you in
the morning?”

“Of course.” Seiichi stood as well, and saw him downstairs. After
Renji had put on his shoes, he said, “Thank you.”

Renji looked back at him, and smiled. “You’re welcome,”
he said, and left.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Parallel

Michael’s offer to Fudoumine. Drama with Humor, I-2

“Are they allowed to do that?” the redhead wondered, after Michael
had explained himself to the group of boys.

Michael shrugged. “No rules against demons and humans making contracts,”
he said. “Kind of a long tradition behind it, really.”

The guy he was here to visit, Tachibana, seemed as pleased by the news as anything
else. “So,” he said. “Yukimura will be playing at Nationals.”
He practically glowed with anticipation.

“Yep,” Michael said.

“And you’re here because…?” the girl asked, eyes sharp.

“It’s hardly fair for Hell to go poking their noses into things without
one of us investigating,” Michael said. He shrugged. “I’ve been
given to understand that Fudoumine might be interested in some help.”

“We aren’t in the habit of looking for help outside our ranks,”
Tachibana said, quietly. “Especially when help comes with strings attached.”

Geez, he sounded like Tezuka. Maybe it was something in the water. “I didn’t
say there were strings, did I?” Michael retorted. “As it is, I’d
be doing the favor for Setsuna as much as for you.”

The guys relaxed somewhat. “You know Setsuna?” the tall one with the
bandanna asked.

“Oh yeah. Good guy to have at your back in a fight,” Michael said,
grinning. “Look, if you don’t want my help, it’s cool.”

“Nii-san,” the girl said, quietly. “You’re still not fully
recovered.” Her smile was sharp. “If Rikkai’s being helped by
a demon, it’s only fair that you get a little help from an angel, don’t
you think?”

That bit of logic coincided so neatly enough with his own that Michael had to
grin. The boy with longish hair had something to say, too. “If we’re
going to meet Rikkai at Nationals, you’ll want to be at your full strength,”
he murmured, “especially if Yukimura is going to be there…”

The redhead grinned. “It’s almost like poetic justice,” he said,
“don’t you think?”

Tachibana considered it. “It does seem appropriate,” he agreed, at
length. “Very well; I accept your offer.”

Michael grinned. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, cracking
his knuckles. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
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Interlude

Sanada makes a further discovery. Angst, I-3

Seiichi knew the moment Genichirou noticed Mad Hatter’s seal, low on one
hip and inconspicuous except to a thorough lover.

Genichirou went still. “What is this?”

“The Hatter’s mark,” Seiichi said, and there was no point in
telling him how it had come to be there. “A seal for the contract.”

As he had half-expected him to, Genichirou pulled away and sat, back to Seiichi.
“His mark,” he said, voice flat.

Seiichi sat up as well, and placed his hands on Genichirou’s shoulders.
“Part and parcel of the deal, I’m afraid.” He kneaded the muscles
that were already beginning to knot up again.

“Every time I have myself convinced that this has all been something Niou
cooked up, something happens to prove me wrong.” He shook his head, and
began gathering his scattered clothes.

“You’re going?” Seiichi asked.

“I—yes. I am.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to think.
Sorry.”

Seiichi inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”

“Will you?” Genichirou asked, doing up his last button.

“Of course.”

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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The Shine

Sanada and Belial talk about Seiichi. Drama, I-3

For once, Genichirou thought he might have spotted Mad Hatter’s arrival beside
the courts before anyone else. A quick glance at Renji, and a nod toward
their captain detailed Renji to distract Seiichi’s attention so Genichirou
could take advantage of this.

They had discussed it days before.

"Hatter. I want to talk to you."

Bright blue eyes widened ingenuously. "Seiichi-san must have a tighter
grip on all of you than one had thought," Hatter mused. "One was
expecting you days ago. Very well, then, come along." When Genichirou
hesitated to follow him, Hatter glanced back with a slow smile. "One
wouldn’t wish to distress Seiichi by doing this out in the open where anyone
could see. Don’t you agree?"

At another time the tone of lascivious suggestion might have made Genichirou
turn around and head back to the court, but today he was far too angry.

"So?" Hatter asked, leaning against a tree.

"What do you want with Seiichi?" Genichirou asked, bluntly.

"His soul," Hatter answered.

Genichirou reminded himself, strenuously, of Renji’s caution that he wouldn’t
get anywhere with Hatter unless he could keep his temper. He told himself
it was just like dealing with Niou in a really bad mood. "What,"
he amplified through gritted teeth, "do you want his soul for?"

"To play with, of course," Hatter said with a bright smile. "It’s
lovely and shiny."

Genichirou knew it was a bad idea, and still couldn’t stop himself. Red clouded
his vision and he lashed out.

When the world stopped spinning he was flat on his back with Hatter kneeling
over him, and his arms pinned under Hatter’s hand and knee. The free hand
was playing very, very sharp nails just under Genichirou’s chin. "Did
you really think one has lived this long without the ability to deal with
people who want to kill one?" Hatter asked, amused.

"At the rate you must make enemies, I’m sure you’ve needed it," Genichirou
shot back.

"You aren’t entirely without interest yourself, you know," Hatter
murmured, cold eyes glinting over a laughing mouth. "Now, one doubts
Seiichi would be pleased if one damaged you too badly, so listen. One contracted
for his soul, in return for some considerations and assistance. The bond
of that contract gives one access to his soul, even now. One can touch it.
Touch it, taste it, know it. And Yukimura Seiichi’s soul is beautiful. One
is really quite smitten."

Genichirou heaved against Hatter’s hold, violently. "His heart belongs
to us," he ground out, glaring.

"Of course it does."

Genichirou paused, staring up.

"One isn’t actually blind, you know," Hatter said, patiently. "His
heart belongs to you. And his soul will not come into one’s keeping for some
time yet. In the meantime, he’s given a significant part of that
to you lot, too. That doesn’t mean one can’t appreciate it in advance. And
that," a nail flicked and Genichirou bit back a hiss, "is more
clarity than you have any right to expect from a demon, let alone from oneself.
Evidence of one’s infatuation, no doubt." He licked Genichirou’s blood,
delicately, off one fingertip.

Genichirou gritted his teeth. "Is that," he enunciated distinctly,
"supposed to make us feel better about Seiichi signing his soul into
eternal torment?"

Hatter blinked. "One begs your pardon?" Then he paused, tapping a
thoughtful finger against his chin. "Well, actually, no one doesn’t,
but in any case who said anything about eternal torment?"

Genichirou gave him a very suspicious look. "That is the general consensus
on what Hell is."

Hatter’s mouth curled in disgustingly smug delight. "There has been,"
he informed Genichirou, "a change of management recently. So there’s
no need to worry."

Judging from Hatter’s grin, Genichirou’s expression said quite clearly what
he thought of that directive. Hatter did let him go, though, sliding away
in a flicker of movement Genichirou couldn’t quite follow. By the time Genichirou
had gained his feet, the infuriating demon was nowhere to be seen.

"So?" Renji asked, as Genichirou joined him at the edge of the courts.

"It’s all a joke to him," Genichirou stated, flatly.

Renji tipped his head. "What makes you think so?"

Genichirou narrowed his eyes, looking out over the practice in progress. "Because
if he isn’t joking then he’s in love and I refuse to believe that."

"Hmm." They both fell silent for a time.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Talking Sense

Kurai and Noise explain things to Sanada. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Kurai, Noise, Sanada Genichirou

“They are interesting; I’ll give them that,” Kurai said, after
an afternoon of observation. “I can see what would attract Hatter.”

“They’re very strong-willed, for children,” Noise agreed.

“One would not let them catch one referring to them as children,”
Belial observed, sliding out of a patch of shadow. “Have you considered
one’s request, lovely Queen?”

Before Kurai could answer, Noise said, “This seems like an awful lot of
effort just for a soul that’s already been signed away.”

Belial flattened a hand over hir heart. “One is a great believer in quality
and thoroughness in one’s work.”

“I’ll just bet,” Noise grumbled. “…Kurai-sama?”

“I’ll do it,” Kurai decided. “Which one’s Sanada
again?”

Belial indicated one of the humans. “That one.” Se paused. “One
would mention that he is touchy.”

“And you have nothing at all to do with that,” Kurai said, absently,
studying the boy in question.

“Perish the thought,” Belial murmured, as the boys began clearing
the tennis courts. “Ah. It would appear that one has been noticed.”
Se moved off to speak to the boy in question; Kurai and Noise trailed after hir.

“More friends?” the boy asked, with an assessing glance at Kurai and
Noise. Kurai looked back at him just as critically, beginning to understand the
attraction of this particular soul.

“Kurai, queen of Gehenna, and Noise, her retainer,” Belial said, with
a sweeping gesture. “Your Majesty, Yukimura Seiichi.”

“And what brings you to my tennis courts?” Yukimura inquired, politely
enough, despite the hint of steel in his voice.

“Hatter’s invitation,” Noise said.

Yukimura looked at Belial. “And are my tennis courts going to be a social
clearing house for all sorts of demons now, Belial?”

Kurai felt her eyebrows hit her hairline, while Noise’s jaw dropped.

Belial waved a hand. “Not at all,” se said. “Her Majesty is
here to relieve certain misapprehensions regarding her husband’s domain.”
Se glanced pointedly in the direction of the boy se had indicated previously,
who was standing a little ways off and obviously trying not to look too much like
he was hovering.

Yukimura followed the glance. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”
He looked back at Kurai. “In that case, welcome.”

“Thank you kindly,” Kurai said, drily. “We’ll try not
to trouble you too much.”

“I appreciate it,” Yukimura said. He paused. “Your husband?”

“Hmph. We’re separated,” Kurai said, sparing a mild glare for
Belial. “Hatter-san can explain, if you’re curious. Noise?”

“Ready, Kurai-sama.”

“Then we’re off,” Kurai said. She stuck her hands in her pockets
and sauntered towards Sanada, Noise following close behind. “Hello.”

“And just who are you?” he asked.

Kurai hid a grimace, as Noise stiffened. Touchy didn’t begin to cover it.
“This,” Noise said, “is Her Majesty, Queen Kurai of Gehenna.”

“Kurai’s fine,” she added hastily, placing a hand on Noise’s
arm. “You’re Sanada, right?” He nodded. “Good. Now, it’s
a lovely afternoon for a walk, don’t you think?” Without waiting for
an answer, she linked her other arm in his. “Why don’t you walk with
me for a ways?”

“What—” Sanada began to protest, but Noise seized his other arm,
and the two of them managed to propel him forward while Yukimura and Belial laughed
behind them and the rest of the boys stared in open curiosity. He struggled to
free himself, and was remarkably strong for a human, but Kurai and Noise were
demons and managed to keep their grips on him easily enough. “Let me go!”
he hissed, as they pushed him away from the tennis courts.

“In a bit,” Kurai said, cheerfully. “First we need to talk.”

“I’m not interested,” he said, instantly. “I don’t
want anything to do with your bargains.”

“Bargains?” Noise laughed. “You think we’re crazy enough
to try and bargain with you after Hatter-sama’s declared you off-limits?”

Kurai silently applauded Noise. That had piqued Sanada’s curiosity enough
to make him stop struggling for a moment. “Off-limits?” he repeated.

“Absolutely,” Kurai said. “And even if Hatter-san hadn’t,
Yukimura-san’s expression when we arrived would have made it look like a
bad idea. He seems very protective of what’s his.”

Sanada didn’t seem inclined to argue this. “If you’re not here
to buy my soul, then what are you here for?”

“To talk,” Noise grunted. “At no small inconvenience to Her
Majesty, I might add.”

“Not that much,” Kurai shrugged. “So, tell me, Sanada-kun—what
do you know about Hell?”

“It’s where damned souls go when they die,” he said, promptly.
“To be punished for their sins by demons.”

“Okay. And heaven?” Kurai said, encouragingly.

“Where good people go after they die,” Sanada said. “To be rewarded
by angels.”

“Uh-huh.” Noise made a rude sound. “Those angelic bastards definitely
have the better propaganda machine.”

“Like that’s news,” Kurai retorted. “But then, they’ve
been playing a game rigged in their favor.”

“Who could forget?” Noise released her grip on Sanada, who had followed
this exchange with a faintly confused expression. “Damned souls. Punishments.
Rewards. Hah! Do humans ever get anything right?”

“Not often,” Kurai said, mildly. “I do hope you don’t
have your heart set on that particular vision of Heaven and Hell, Sanada-kun.
If you do, I’m afraid you’re going to be terribly disappointed when
you die.”

“I will?”

“Oh yeah, especially if you’re planning on going to Heaven,”
Noise muttered. “They’d soon kill you as look at you up there.”

Sanada blinked. “But… angels are good?” he ventured.

Kurai really couldn’t help the laughter, especially when he drew himself
up, looking offended. “There’s no more saying that all angels are
good and all demons are evil than there is saying all humans are good or all humans
are evil,” she said, finally. “It’s a mix, just like it is with
humans. Sure, the Host likes to pretend they have the moral high ground, but when
it comes right down to it, all of us, angels and demons alike, tend to be bastards,
really. Demons are just more straightforward about it.”

Sanada frowned. “He sent you here, didn’t he?”

“He?” Kurai echoed. Sanada jerked his head in the direction of the
tennis courts. “Oh, you mean Hatter-san. He asked me to come, yes.”

“Then how can I believe a single word you’ve said?” he demanded.
“Even if I were inclined to take the word of a demon?”

“I suppose you don’t have to believe us,” Kurai said, calmly
enough. “It’s your decision, after all. Hatter-san is notoriously
tricky.” Noise snorted, and muttered something under her breath. “But
it seems to me that Hatter-san is going to extraordinary lengths to be reassuring.”

“Seiichi doesn’t need reassuring,” Sanada muttered. “He
thinks everything is fine.”

“Not him, silly.” Kurai smacked him upside the head, but gently. “You.
Hatter called us here on your account. She’d like to add you to her collection,
but she’s abiding by Yukimura-san’s wishes, so she’s doing the
next best thing and trying to make you see that it’s not as bad for him
as you think. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“You’re a fascinating group of souls,” Noise observed, while
Sanada looked flabbergasted. “Anyone in Hell—or in Heaven, to be fair—with
an ounce of taste would be overjoyed to have you.”

“Have us?” Sanada managed.

“It’s fairly standard exchange—services rendered after death for
favors received during life.” Kurai waved a hand. “Of course, I don’t
know what terms Yukimura-san and Hatter-san have agreed to, but I doubt it’s
anything exotic.”

“I still don’t know that I can trust a word you’re saying,”
Sanada said, after a moment.

“Stubborn,” Noise muttered.

“I expect we should consider it part of his charm,” Kurai said. She
unhooked her arm from his and stepped away. “In any case, I don’t
believe we can say or do anything else to change his mind.”

“That’s probably true,” Noise agreed.

“Look, Sanada-kun. You trust Yukimura-san, right?” Kurai said. He
nodded. “Am I right in saying that he has impeccable judgment?” Sanada
nodded again. “Then trust that he knows what he’s doing. You’ll
both be happier that way.”

Sanada considered this. “A question,” he said, finally.

“Yes?” Kurai waited.

“When you die, if you don’t go to heaven or hell, what happens?”

“Reincarnation, usually,” Noise said, promptly.

“In Yukimura-san’s case, he’ll probably serve in Lucifer-sama’s
court, as retainer to Hatter-san,” Kurai added.

Sanada’s frown at this was less angry than thoughtful. “I see,”
he murmured.

Kurai smiled. “I think we’re done here, Noise,” she said. “It
was interesting talking to you, Sanada-kun. I do hope we meet again.”

He snorted. “I’m not sure I can honestly say the same yet, but—I
do thank you.”

Kurai chuckled. “To be fair, that’s more than I really expected. Take
care, Sanada-kun. See you around.” She gave him a little wave, and walked
away.

Noise caught up with her after just a moment. “Think it worked?”

“Dunno, but we gave him plenty to think over,” Kurai said, with a
little shrug. “Hatter-san can’t ask for more.”

“You never know,” Noise said, shivering. “So, home?”

“Well, we could go home,” Kurai conceded, “but since we’re
in Assiah anyway, it couldn’t hurt to pop over and visit Setsuna, right?”

“And the real reason you agreed to this comes out,” Noise said.

“I prefer to think of it as being efficient,” Kurai said airily. “Come
on, let’s see if we can find the Messiah.”

As they headed off, Sanada turned around and headed back toward the tennis courts,
where Yukimura was waiting.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Belonging

SanaYuki make up smut. Porn with Characterization, I-4

"All right, that should do it for the Nationals lineups."

Seiichi stood and rubbed a hand over his eyes, and felt Genichirou’s hands
close on his shoulders as he swayed a bit.

"Seiichi?" He could hear the incipient panic in Genichirou’s voice,
legacy of the winter, and laid a soothing hand on his chest.

"I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. Truly." He smiled up at Genichirou,
though he knew the stress he’d been under lately probably made it less convincing
than usual. Genichirou’s chest moved under his palm in a faint sigh.

"Seiichi…" Seiichi blinked; even when they were alone, Genichirou
rarely let his voice soften so much. Genichirou’s arms closed around him,
almost lifting him against Genichirou’s body. Seiichi released a tiny breath
of his own and let himself relax into that support.

"I’m sorry," Genichirou murmured.

"For what?" Seiichi asked, a bit muffled, leaning his head down to
Genichirou’s shoulder.

"Everything." The hint of a laugh in Genichirou’s voice made Seiichi
chuckle. And then he sighed again.

"Genichirou," he whispered, leaning more of his weight against his
lover. He didn’t often ask, but tonight he was very worn out and didn’t want
to think or plan or even speak. Just feel.

Genichirou’s arms tightened. As Seiichi looked up, Genichirou’s mouth found
his in a gentle kiss at odds with the power of that embrace. Or perhaps not.
Seiichi smiled and let his eyes fall closed. Genichirou understood what he
wanted. Perhaps Seiichi should send that little silver haired demon a thank-you
note.

Genichirou moved back long enough to strip off his own clothes before he started
on Seiichi’s. The shirt was lifted off his shoulders, and Genichirou knelt
to slide down Seiichi’s pants and tug off his socks. Seiichi laughed, softly,
and Genichirou looked up at him with a faint smile. Large, warm hands closed
on Seiichi’s hips, and Seiichi gave himself to them, let Genichirou take
his weight and guide him down until they were pressed against each other
and Genichirou’s arms were around him again.

For a while Genichirou only ran his hands over Seiichi’s skin; down his thighs,
spread over Genichirou’s; up his back and across his shoulders; over his
ribs and the bones of his hips; threading through his hair. Soothing and
strong, and Seiichi sighed into their kisses, comforted.

The sound he made when Genichirou’s fingers dipped between his cheeks and stroked
questioningly against his entrance was lower and more hungry. Seiichi leaned
back, trusting Genichirou’s hands to keep him from falling, driving their
hips together harder, and a deep, rough sound in Genichirou’s chest answered
him. Genichirou’s mouth, though, was still soft as it moved over Seiichi’s
chest, and, as Genichirou lowered him to the futon, his stomach, slow licks
followed by open mouthed kisses. Seiichi stretched against the quilt, and
gasped as his lover’s mouth covered Belial’s mark. Protest and acceptance
at the same time; very much Genichirou’s way, with him.

"Genichirou…" When the dark eyes looked up Seiichi held out his
arms and Genichirou moved up to lie over Seiichi. Seiichi made a pleased
sound at that weight on him. There was a solidity to Genichirou that made
it deeply satisfying to be covered by him like this, when Seiichi wanted
another’s strength in addition to his own.

"Seiichi," Genichirou spoke, quietly, against his hair, "will
you let me?"

"Oh, yes," Seiichi answered, laughing just a little. "Please."

From the convulsive way Genichirou’s arms tightened around him, Seiichi thought
Genichirou might need this as much as he did.

Genichirou nudged him until Seiichi was lying on his side and Genichirou could
press up against his back, and he wriggled back a little more snugly against
that solid body. Genichirou nipped lightly at the curve of Seiichi’s neck
as his hand slid down the back of Seiichi’s thigh and urged his knee up,
spreading him out. Seiichi released a harsh breath when Genichirou’s fingers
slid into him. Those fingers felt very good, working his body open, but
it wasn’t until Genichirou’s hard thigh slid up against the back of his
and he felt Genichirou filling him, stretching him open, that Seiichi
finally moaned, breathless, clenching a hand in the worn cotton under his
cheek.

This was what he wanted tonight, to have Genichirou inside him and around him,
holding him and driving in and out of him, slow and close and hard. To have
that weight and warmth against him. To let himself arch and buck, in Genichirou’s
arms, with complete abandon.

Genichirou’s hand between his legs shocked Seiichi out of the slowness, and
he cried out, hearing the sudden strain in his own voice. He jerked into
Genichirou’s tight grip, heard a soft groan against his ear, and fire ran
over him, rippled out from the rasp of calluses against his skin, catching
at the heavy heat of Genichirou moving inside him. The pulse of it spiked
with a deep thrust, and Seiichi lost himself in brightness. The sharp edge
of sensation twisted through him, harsh and then gentler, softer, until it
subsided and he lay, limp. Genichirou was moving faster, now. Seiichi breathed
deeply as Genichirou muffled a moan against his shoulder, and finally stilled.
It took a few moments before Seiichi could gather himself to turn over and
wind his arms around Genichirou. They lay, twined together.

"Forgive me," Genichirou said, almost too quietly to hear. "It
was only that… I don’t like the thought of what might happen to you."

Seiichi chuckled. "And you also don’t like sharing," he added, lifting
his head to press a kiss to Genichirou’s forehead, and another to his lips,
checking an indignant protest. "With outsiders," he added.

"Hmph."

"You know that I’m yours, Genichirou," Seiichi pointed out, lying
back down. "It’s only fair; you gave yourself to me. You know that’s
how I do things."

An even less articulate grumble met this statement, and Seiichi smiled as he
settled down to let himself drift to sleep as well.

Just before he did, the door clicked, and he turned over, yawning, to see Renji
smiling at them. Seiichi held up his arms, and Renji leaned down to gather
him close, careful not to jar the sleeping Genichirou.

"Better?" Renji whispered.

"Yes." Seiichi buried his face against Renji’s neck and breathed
in. "Thank you." Then he tugged, demandingly, on Renji’s shirt,
and Renji smiled as he undressed and lay down to enclose Seiichi in a cradle
of warm bodies.

Seiichi relaxed between them, very pleased.


In a distant room Belial looked up at the ceiling and wondered if se should
look into acquiring Sanada-kun after all. Hir body still throbbed with the
echo of his touch. At last se sighed, deciding that, no, he would probably
die of heart failure at the mere suggestion.

Se did make a note, as se rolled over, not to mention to Seiichi this
particular side effect of the mark.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 09, 05
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Nine Tenths

Possible answers about Kirihara’s proclivities. Humor, I-1

Niou’s eyes narrowed. “So,” he drawled, “it’s
one of yours that makes him do that thing with the red eyes and the violence?”

“One never said that,” Belial demurred. “One said
that it was not an unreasonable hypothesis.”

“So it could be one of yours.”

Belial sniffed. “One of mine would demonstrate more subtlety,”
se said, leaving no doubt that hir retainers would possess the utmost in
delicacy, or else.

“So it could be some other—individual—who’s responsible for
his, ah, episodes?” Yagyuu suggested.

Belial shrugged. “One does not care to speculate, but yes, it is possible.”

Kirihara broke into the discussion. “You do realize I’m standing
right here, don’t you?”

“You say that like it’s supposed to bother us, brat.” Niou
cocked his head. “If an opposing team shows up to a match with a priest,
will that be a problem?”

Belial threw hir head back and laughed.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Engarde

Kurai is depressed and Hatter is curious. Drama with Angst, I-3

Kurai was used to walking her realm with Noise’s steady presence at her back
like a tether that kept her from flying apart from all the different directions
in which her land, her people, her responsibilities pulled her. But today
she walked the length and breadth of it alone. She did it to reminder herself
that she, and her land, and her people, were not part of Assiah though they
were so achingly close to it. Close enough that it rubbed against the softest
skin until it broke and bled. She did it to remember that they were not angels,
or demons—no matter how individual members might theorize or debate; that
they were their own, a people apart. The forgotten and despised children
of God.

It was the Witch’s shattered realm that eventually drew her—with all its psychic
pain and loneliness like a blackened mirror for her own.

She stood where she had stood that first time, the first time she had fallen through
its silver borders. The first time she had seen Anthy as she really was, or was
meant to be. Kurai knew the Great Angels, lords of Hell, Lucifer and the Messiah,
and knew a fair number of their psychic reflections, but she had not—at least
not yet—meet anything like Witch. Or like Utena.

Kurai placed her hands against the smooth dome of silver and leaned her forehead
against it, careful to avoid thinking about going through the silvered
glass-like stuff.

And it wasn’t fair that she would fall in love, with one or both of them, when
she couldn’t have one or both of them. Just like last time—just like Setsuna.

It just wasn’t fair. She wanted to know when she would find someone
who loved her the way Setsuna loved Sara or Utena loved Anthy. Because she
was tired of being in love, when no one loved her back.

"One thinks that one’s lord’s Royal Wife is somewhat … distressed,"
Mad Hatter commented, hir voice sliding through the darkness like whiskey through
rich coffee.

Kurai looked up to where se sat, lounged insolently really, on a twisted tree
branch that she was fairly positive had not existed there moments before. "Hatter-san,"
she sighed resignedly. "What do you want?"

"Is it not enough that perhaps one wished to look upon Her Majesty’s beauty
and spend pleasant moments in her company?" Hatter asked sweetly. Cocking
hir head to one side she managed to look both coquettish, innocent, and sly.

Kurai made a face. "I’m not beautiful."

"Oh, there you are very wrong." Hatter appeared before her. Clasping
her chin with two fingers, se stared into Kurai’s black and silver-blue eyes.
"Her Majesty is quite lovely, and will only grow to be more beautiful with
time."

"Stop it!" Kurai smacked hir fingers away. "Stop it…"

Hatter might have been angered and offended had it not been for the naked pain
and distress on Kurai’s face. So se dropped hir hand without further comment as
se waited for the inevitable explination. Kurai wrapped thin arms about herself
and looked away.

"You don’t love me, or think me lovely, Hatter-san. You never have,"
she said without looking at her shadowed companion. Hatter’s face was unreadable.
"It was only ever a pretty lie to get the promise that you got." Kurai
turned to lock eyes with Hatter, and despite the tears her face was hard. "You
can stop lying to me now."

"This one does not always lie, Kurai. This one is honest and tells the truth
when it needs to be said—and you are lovely…" Hatter stopped as Kurai
shook her head violently, denying all se said. Se was not, perhaps, entirely sure
what se would have said to Kurai, to make her believe. But it did not matter.
Still shaking her head, and not looking at the demon, Kurai turned and plunged
into the swirling silver mists.

Hatter placed one hand upon the border of the other realm thoughtfully. It
hardened underneath hir fingers, and se got the very clear sense of no.
Se could probably force hir way in, but it was not hir way to do so. Se cocked
hir head to one side.

"What are you then, and what is our little Queen to you?" Se asked.

For a moment se saw the image of a girl with wild purple hair and emerald, inhuman
eyes in a dirty and torn smock. Hir eyebrow arched. The girl mouthed only one
word to hir.

Mine

~~~

It had not been one of her wiser ideas, Kurai determined in retrospect, plunging
into the silvered mists that were steadily encroaching into her territory.
But she had to get away from the Mad Hatter and all the pretty lies that
simply were not true, no matter how much she wanted them to be. Ever since
Setsuna had gone back to Assiah the weight of those lies—the ones she had
told herself, the ones other people like Akane had told her—pressed against
her until parts of her cracked from the strain.

Witch’s realm was one of psychic eminenations. A maelstrom of seething emotions
that shivered and changed, nearly physically tangible things that could rip
and tear. It was an unsettling place to be even when Kurai was able to control
herself, but when she was feeling shattered and beyond all protection it
was unbareable. Emotions like shining lances, like glistening swords, speared
her. Cut her open and left her to bleed.

She was rocking on the barren ground, hands pressed so hard against the sides
of her head that her ears rang, trying to block out all the endless screaming
that was as much her own as it was the the centuries of bottled emotions
left in this place to howl. Kurai had the disconcerting feeling of falling
and the sound of rushing wings. Then gentle fingers that were cold to the
touch pried her hands from her head. Witch knelt next to her, emerald eyes
bemused.

"You should have run from the swords."

Kurai resisted the urge to check herself for wounds. Somehow she knew that
nothing here could hurt her body unless she believed it could. Rather than
being reassured by the thought, she was terrified. She gripped Witch’s slender
arms. "Where are we?"

Witch shook her head. Pulling away from Kurai’s grasp she walked a little
ways away from the kneeling Dragon Queen and stared out at the endless horizons.
"We are in the place inside my head that is larger than the place outside
of it."

It was the same answer that she had been given before, but now it made more
sense—and less. Kurai stood up slowly, as if pushing through heavy water.
As she stood the decision she had start to make when she first stared into
Anthy’s strangely hopeful eyes clarified and solidified. "Come away
from here."

Witch turned back to her. They were so close that whispers sounds like ringing
bells, too loud, too likely to be heard. "Would you lead me from here?"

The air shivered around them, hinting at the return of the maelstrom. "We’ll
lead each other."

Witch’s smile bloomed, blazing and fierce. It was the last thing that Kurai
saw before the darkness claimed her and the rushing wind. When she awoke
Noise was peering down at her with anxious concern. Past her worried retainer
she spotted Mad Hatter who was staring not at her, but at the opalescent
dome of Witch’s domain. Kurai sat up, everything in her body screamed in
protest, but her head felt strangely clear. As if she had been cleansed of
the paralyzing depression. In its place was a hard determination.

She went to stand next to Mad Hatter, who glanced inquiring down at her.
Without saying a word Kurai placed her hand against the silvered surface
and thought: "Soon." It was enough.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
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Understanding

Lucifer visits Rikkai. Drama, I-3

Renji, along with the rest of the team, was starting to get used to Mad Hatter’s
elusive, mocking presence among them. He supposed he should have known
that would be the signal for a fresh turn into strangeness.

Today’s strangeness started innocently enough with a voice none of them had
heard before. "So this is where you’ve been, lately." A tall figure
stepped out from under the shadow of the trees by the courts.

Hatter’s face lit up even as she turned. "Indeed, my lord," she answered,
stepping toward the man. The entire team stared as she sank to her knees
at his feet.

"And are you enjoying yourself?" he asked one brow tilting up as
he reached a hand down to pull Hatter back up.

"Immensely," she purred.

The man’s eyes traveled over them all, ending at last with Seiichi. Renji tensed,
suspecting who this must be, but Seiichi met the gaze coolly and only nodded.

"Lucifer, I presume," he said, quietly.

A crooked smile turned up the man’s mouth, and he looked back down at Mad Hatter.
"How calm. Have you finally found one you couldn’t break, butterfly?"

"One hasn’t been trying to break him," Hatter protested, looking
up through her lashes. Genichirou, standing beside Renji, twitched, and Renji
leaned against his shoulder for unobtrusive support and restraint.

"No, only my teammates," Seiichi put in, sharp and not particularly
amused. "I hadn’t realized it was an actual hobby."

"One seeks the truth and shows the truth," Hatter answered, voice
suddenly harsh. Her head dipped almost to Lucifer’s chest. "Few see
it, even then."

This time, Renji noted, it was Niou’s turn to pull Yagyuu back when he stepped
toward Hatter.

"Belial," Seiichi and Lucifer murmured at the same time, in the same
tone of mild exasperation.

Their eyes locked over Hatter’s head for a long moment before Seiichi sighed.
"So," was all he said, though.

Hatter cast a narrow look over her shoulder at Seiichi, but let the exchange
go with a faint shrug. "Are you down here to visit her?"
she asked Lucifer.

His eyes hooded. "Alexiel will be mine when she returns. For now, Setsuna
and Sara belong to each other." His mouth tilted again. "Actually
I was going to see what Michael is doing."

Mad Hatter threw back her head and laughed, eyes sparkling again. "Oh,
can one watch?" she begged, hands clasped under her chin.

Personally, Renji would have been a bit alarmed by her grin, but Lucifer merely
brushed his fingers through her wild hair. "If you like."

It was the first time they had seen Hatter’s wings. The corner of Renji’s mind
that catalogued things observed that they were feathered, albeit black, not
the bat-style wings that seemed traditional for demons in artwork. The rest
of him was gaping at the sky along with his teammates.

Except for Seiichi. Who stood with a hand on his hip, the other raised to press
between his eyes. "Hatter-san, you little idiot," their captain
muttered.

Renji’s brows rose. That was very much the tone Seiichi used about Akaya sometimes.

Interesting.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Ministers of Grace

Lucifer passes through Seigaku and Hatter spots Fuji. Humor, I-2

When the Lord of Hell and what had to be his strongest supporter appeared
at the courts, Kunimitsu took a prompt and firm hold of Fuji’s arm. Keeping
one eye on his visitors, he escorted the startled Fuji over to Ooishi.

"Ooishi. Don’t let Fuji near those two," he directed. With a glare
to keep Echizen right where he was, as well, Kunimitsu approached the intruders.

Lucifer arched a brow. "Well. It’s been a while since I met one of your
bloodline. Though I do recall it was one of you who last lived long enough
to notice Alexiel and I coming back around. Odd man; very strange sense of
humor. Interesting theory of magic, though."

"What do you want, here?" Kunimitsu asked. It didn’t do to get distracted
from the point when talking to demons.

"Actually, I was looking for Michael." Lucifer eyed Kunimitsu. "I
don’t notice his influence. And Michael is generally about as noticeable
as they come."

"He was here; I declined his offer. I suggested he visit Fudoumine."

Lucifer laughed low in his chest. "And your courts are still unsinged.
Maybe he really is growing up. We’ll be going, then."

"So soon?" Mad Hatter murmured.

Kunimitsu took a step to the side, putting himself squarely between Mad Hatter
and Fuji. Hatter smiled at him in a disturbingly familiar way, and he narrowed
his eyes forbiddingly. No demon was getting its claws into Fuji’s soul.

Fuji was more than enough trouble without that.

"Are you sure you didn’t take on the charge of Greed, as well as Pride?"
Lucifer asked, sounding amused.

Kunimitsu relaxed as they left, relieved. At least until Fuji spoke from behind
his shoulder.

"Tezuka?" He didn’t have to turn around to know there was a glint
in Fuji’s eyes. "What was that about?"

He stifled a sigh. Dealing with demons was so much easier.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 08, 05
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Declarations of War

Lucifer finally meets Michael at Fudoumine. Drama, I-3

Mere humans shouldn’t be so damned perceptive, Michael had decided, even
if they did have some funny bloodlines going for them. It was distressing how
well he fit in with the guys of Fudoumine’s tennis team, who didn’t
take shit from anyone, and the way Ann had taken to mothering him—well, Raphael
would never let him hear the end of it, so Michael had decided that there was
no way he was letting word of this get around back home.

He still didn’t see much appeal in the tennis thing itself, though.

It was a real pity that his brother had to have gone and shown up at the Fudoumine
courts, though, and spoiled an otherwise pleasant afternoon of hanging out with
the guys.

“What do you want?” Michael demanded, glaring. If there had been any
justice in the universe, Lucifer would have combusted on the spot, and Belial
would’ve gone up right along with him.

“Can’t a man want to visit his own brother?” Lucifer inquired,
and if a person squinted, and maybe was half-blind, he might have said Lucifer
was smiling pleasantly. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Michael growled. He crossed his arms. “What
do you really want?”

But they were interrupted before Lucifer had a chance to answer. The guys had
stopped practice to look, and Tachibana was headed in their direction—and fuck,
Ann was with him. “Michael-kun, who are your guests?” she caroled,
looking Lucifer and Belial over.

Lucifer, in turn, was examining Tachibana. “This must be the one,”
he remarked to Belial, who nodded, looking speculative.

Tachibana took a position at Michael’s shoulder. “Won’t you
introduce us, Michael-kun?” he asked, voice deep and even and very, very
territorial.

Belial grinned, and Michael glared at hir. “This,” he said, reluctantly,
“is Lucifer, the Lord of Hell.” Well, there was no real use in not
acknowledging it. “My brother.”

“You never said you had a brother,” Ann said, with a grin.

“He tries to avoid the topic,” Belial said, smoothly. “You may
call one Mad Hatter.” Se looked at Tachibana. “You must be Tachibana-kun.”

“I suppose I must be.” At least Tachibana had the good sense to sound
wary. “You have the advantage of me.”

“Seiichi has told me a great deal about you,” Belial purred. “It’s
such a pity Mika-chan got to you first.”

Ann shot Michael a look, and mouthed “Mika-chan?” at him. Michael
ground his teeth. His brother was going to pay for this, if only he could figure
out how.

Then inspiration struck. “Actually,” Michael drawled, trying to match
Lucifer’s bored tones, “if you wanna get right down to it, I didn’t
get to them first.” When he was sure he had Lucifer’s attention, he
grinned. “Setsuna did.”

The effect was every bit as gratifying as Michael could have hoped, and he etched
the sight of Lucifer’s face into his memory to treasure. Of course, it did
mean that Belial stepped closer to hir master and the atmosphere turned about
ten degrees more dangerous, but then, Michael was a dangerous sort of guy himself.
“Setsuna,” Lucifer said, finally.

“Mmmmhm,” Michael agreed, savoring the moment. “Really, I’m
here as a favor to him.”

Then Tachibana’s hand dropped on his shoulder, the way he did sometimes
when Kamio started getting excitable. “I take it you know Setsuna too,”
Tachibana said, and immediately the atmosphere lightened somewhat.

Lucifer’s lips quirked. “I have found that Setsuna has a way of getting
around.”

“No kidding,” Ann agreed, and Michael blinked, wondering when she
had gotten herself part of the way between Belial and himself. “That guy
knows everybody.”

Belial laughed. “That is possibly truer than you know.” Se surveyed
the courts, where the rest of the guys had given up the pretense of practicing,
and were ambling over. “One can see how he would be happy here.”

“Yes,” Lucifer agreed, and he had gone back to smooth and untouchable.
Well, it had been fun while it had lasted, anyway. “Things seem to be well
in hand here.”

“We’re so glad you approve,” Ann said, and while she wasn’t
being ungracious about it, she definitely didn’t sound as friendly as she
had. She was pretty cool, for a girl, Michael decided.

“One will be looking forward to seeing Fudoumine at Nationals,” Belial
murmured, eyes sharp.

Michael stuck his chin out. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry,”
he warned. “We’re gonna kick your asses.”

“One looks forward to seeing you try,” Belial said, amiably. “But
one trusts you won’t destroy the stadium in a fit of rage when you lose.”

Michael hissed, but Tachibana squeezed his shoulder in warning, and Michael checked
his temper somewhat. “Fudoumine looks forward to meeting Rikkai Dai at Nationals,”
he said, calmly, and the guys had ranged themselves behind them in support. “Until
then, however, we have a great deal of work to do.”

Belial looked to be impressed in spite of hirself, and Lucifer’s laugh rumbled
low in his throat. “Our presence is keeping you from that work,” he
said. “We’ll be going.”

“And good riddance,” Michael growled.

“And goodbye to you, too, Michael,” Lucifer said, and he and Belial
vanished.

Ann let out a long breath. “That,” she said, “was interesting.”

Michael shrugged off Tachibana’s hand. “I fucking hate him,”
he complained, to no one in particular.

“Those are Rikkai’s pet demons, huh?” Kamio asked, and when
Michael looked over his shoulder at the guys, most of them were wearing thoughtful
expressions. “What did they want with us?”

Michael shrugged. “To piss me off,” he said, trying for nonchalant
and not quite making it. “Same as always. Sorry he interrupted your practice.”

“Things are certainly more interesting with you around,” Shinji observed,
and nudged Kamio. “Come play a set with me.”

Kamio looked to Tachibana, who nodded, and followed Shinji to the courts. After
a moment, the doubles pairs followed them, and began their own practice set. Tachibana
watched them go and smiled. He glanced at Michael. “We’re strong,”
he said. “We’ll definitely win.”

Michael grinned back. “Of course we will.”

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Profession

Belial chats with Sakaki, who turns out to be an old ‘friend’. Drama with Humor, I-3

Character(s): Mad Hatter, Sakaki Tarou

Sakaki Tarou paused on his way across the grounds of Rikkai Dai to visit his
contemporaries on staff, and watched the junior high tennis team practicing.
This team was always worth watching, but this time something specific caught
his attention. Something about them had changed, since the last time he’d
observed these players. It was most notable in Yukimura-kun, and Tarou sighed
faintly as he contemplated the inherent disorder of what he was seeing.

"Taken," a light voice stated next to his ear.

"Belial," Tarou greeted his ex-associate. He didn’t move at all as
a very sharp edge scraped against his throat.

"There are, at this time, exactly two people permitted to call one by
one’s old name, and neither of them is you. You may call one Mad Hatter."
The sharp edge vanished, and Tarou turned his head far enough to see Belial…
Hatter, lounging against the fence, from the corner of his eye. "As
one was saying, Yukimura Seiichi is taken. Signed and sealed, though a significant
delay in delivery was part of the deal. And, as the rest of them belong to
him, you can just keep your hands to yourself where they’re concerned, too."

Tarou knew better than to cross a Demon Lord without better backup, and Hatter
was clearly serious despite the teasing tone. His silence gave his answer.

"Delightful." Hatter pushed off the fence. "After all, it wouldn’t
do to have your boys notice anything odd about their dear mentor’s associates
and pastimes, would it?"

Tarou didn’t even bother to glare at the implied threat of revelation. "They
don’t ask," he said, levelly, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I’m
simply their tennis coach. And music teacher."

Tarou waited, with scant patience, for Hatter to stop snickering and go back
to her humans.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Double Entendre

Kurai has a plan. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Kurai, Noise

Kurai was surprisingly uninterested and unconcerned by the announcement that Heaven and Hell had started competing for souls again. The tennis thing was a little odd, but otherwise it was business as usual. She did rather hope that it didn’t lead to another war. She’d be obligated to get involved—on whose side would be a little convoluted, considering—and she was busy right now.

“Here they are,” Noise said as she dropped several large volumes onto Kurai’s desk. “All the records of the Triumvirate of the Dragons.”

Kurai made a purring sound in the back of her throat that could only be described as both appreciative and pleased. Noise watched suspiciously as Kurai dived into the materials with an expression that meant scheming was definitely on her master’s mind. And Kurai never schemed. Ever. Not even when that suspicious, smug demon was slinking around Gehenna. Noise did not like it when life got weird. Especially when it was her master who was getting weird.

“No one has done the triumvirate ceremony since before the first wars,”Noise said. Kurai made small sound of agreement. “You don’t have to do this,” Noise said, rather plaintively. “Besides, you have to be a triumvirate and you’re just you.”

Kurai looked up, eyes very dark—and for a moment Noise thought she saw eternity
flicker queerly within them—and stared at her retainer in away that made
Noise feel as if Kurai were lining up all Noise’s loyalties and all her
little betrayals and weighing them. It was uncomfortable feeling. And not
a thing she was used to. Not from her master.

“I am not yet Triumvirate, but I will be.”

Noise did not like that statement. She liked the narrow, determined look even less.

And in the darkness of the recessed window that looked over Gehenna’s forever twilight realm, Belial frowned in slightly troubled thought.

And in a plain where eternity echoed a young not-yet-woman looked up into the fractured sky and began to smile.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Great Minds

A Belial and Fuji moment. Humor, I-2

Character(s): Fuji Shuusuke, Mad Hatter

"Ah, there you are."

Shuusuke looked up to see the more flamboyant of Seigaku’s recent visitors
perched on a tree branch that overhung his way home. Mad Hatter, Tezuka had
said this one was called. The ruffled and striped figure leaped lightly down
from the tree.

"One was hoping to speak with you."

Shuusuke took a precautionary step backwards. "Is there any particular
reason I should ignore a friend’s warning in order to talk with you?"

"None at all," Hatter answered cheerfully. "In fact, one was
rather hoping to wind your captain up a bit, by doing this."

"You have some reason to dislike Tezuka?" Shuusuke asked, cooler
now.

Hatter widened his eyes. "Not particularly. One simply likes to watch
people squirm."

Shuusuke smiled for real. "Ah. Well then. It’s a lovely summer this year,
isn’t it?"

It wasn’t that he discounted Tezuka’s cautions, but a kindred soul was a rare
find.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 09, 05
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Games Without Frontiers

Yukimura decides how to deal with Belial. Drama, I-3

Seiichi’s expression toward the end of practice had indicated that he wished
to speak with Belial, so Belial had obligingly waited for him in the small
garden behind his house. It didn’t take long for Seiichi to find hir there.

"Belial," Seiichi said, a bit wearily, "I’d appreciated it if
you could stop trying to provoke everyone. Including me."

Belial chuckled low in hir throat. Se had rather suspected that hir human had
caught on to the reason Belial toyed with his team. "But Seiichi-san,
you have such strength in you." Se draped hirself against him and whispered
in his ear, "One likes to feel it." Which was only the truth. When
Seiichi was angry his soul had an edge on it that cut deliciously.

Seiichi was still for a moment before his hand lifted and turned Belial’s face
toward his. Belial breathed in when se saw his eyes—piercing as when he
was angry, but softer. "Stop trying to use me to hurt yourself,"
he told hir. "I’m not pleased with the idea, however much security it
gives you to be hurt when you expect it."

Belial shivered, and absently damned hir own weakness for those who saw clearly
and spoke the truth. It was what interested hir in Seiichi in the first place,
of course, but se hadn’t honestly expected a mortal, however impressive,
to see this clearly.

Seiichi was still looking at hir, gaze turned thoughtful. An edge of mischief
crept into it. "I’ve been thinking that there are other ways to get
what you want," he murmured. "And turnabout is only fair, yes?"
He leaned forward. And kissed Belial, slow and strong. And Belial had to
admit, hir latest acquisition had a point; his mouth was gentle, but the
weight of his soul against hirs was powerful and demanding, and clear as
a lake of glass.

Belial broke off and leaned back in Seiichi’s arms, laughing. Seiichi merely
took the chance to taste the skin of hir throat.

"You know," Belial observed, voice a little husky, "this is
one of the things mortals and celestials really aren’t supposed
to do."

"I’ve already sold my soul to a demon," Seiichi noted, dryly, against
Belial’s collar bone. "Breaking another rule is supposed to concern
me, why?"

"One thinks," Belial told the sky, dreamily, "one may just be
in love."

Seiichi lifted his head and looked at hir, eyes dark and fathomless in the
dusk. "Don’t say that to me too easily, Belial." His voice held
a hint of warning.

A breath of uneasiness blew through Belial, but se dismissed it. Seiichi had
a powerful and fascinating soul, but surely no human could bind hir. "Will
lust do?" se inquired lightly.

Seiichi’s lips curved, though his gaze was level and serious. "For now."

Surely.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Arrangements

Ryouma gets off on the wrong foot with Kurai. Humor, I-1

Character(s): Echizen Ryouma, Kurai

Ryoma caught the demon girl looking around after Fudoumine practice. He estimated
that he’d end up running about forty laps for this, but decided that
it was probably worth it. “Hey, you,” he called.

The girl blinked and looked over at him. “Who are you?”

Ryoma shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over to her. “Echizen
Ryoma. I was wondering who I could talk to about the management in heaven
and hell.”

The girl drew herself up. “I’m Queen Kurai,” she said.
“I can help you, if you have any questions.” Ryoma noted that
she reminded him of that loud girl who seemed to head up his fanclub, in
an odd way.

“Nn,” said Ryoma. “I wanted to talk to Lucifer.”

Kurai glowered at Ryoma for a long moment, her hands twitching into fists.
“Sure. I’ll tell him for you.”

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Such a Kicking

Constantine gets an invitation from the Witch. Drama, I-3

He was used to days like these. Days when London said “keep your head down, boy, or I’ll give you such a kicking.” Days when the sky spit rain, the lorries never fucking stopped, and some feathered rat decided to shit on your favorite (only) trenchcoat. Days like these a man’s only option was to get thoroughly pissed and stay that way until London’s mood changed for something less homicidal.

At least that was John Constantine’s plan until Mad Hettie grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into her alley. On better days he knew to avoid Old Compton Street for just these reasons, but today was not one of his days.

“She’s been trying to reach you Herself, she has,” Mad Hettie said in lieu
of a greeting. John had a bad feeling that he knew the ‘Herself” Hettie
was refering to. “She’s been tryn’ but you’ve been shuttin’ her out the
way you shut out everything so I’m here to tell you and you’re here to listen,
Johnny-lad.”

When Mad Hettie said ‘listen,’ particularly in that tone, Constantine felt a chill go straight through him. Things never went well for him when Mad Hettie came around to chat. It was never the friendly chats, only the ‘some supernatural ‘s come around callin for you’ sorts of chats.

“Hettie…” he tried. Sometimes the Constantine charm worked on the old bat. She gave him a beady-eyed glare. This was not one of those times.

“No. You listen here, you scallwag, you scamp, I’m 267 years old and I know these things. She got a need for you, so I’m to tell you and you’re to listen.” Hettie had a vise grip on his arm, so shaking her off and dashing off down the lane was out.

The thing was, Mad Hettie really was 267 years old. She was also a prophet, a witch of little talent, and completely buggering nuts.

“Who is trying to talk to me, Hettie?” He tried with what little patience God saw fit to grace him with.

Hettie fixed him with a look that was surprisingly reminiscent of his nan’s. “You know who. John Constantine. Witch. She’s been trying to reach you, but you’ve got yourself locked up tight, haven’t you?”

Ah sweet buggered Jesus, that was the answer right there that he didn’t want to hear. “I know a lot of witches, Hettie. Yourself for an example.”

“Not any old witch, old sorceress,” Hettie said, shaking his arm for good measure. “The Witch.”

Shit.

“Well, she could bloody well pick up the phone and call, like anyone else, couldn’t she?” He said. When in doubt, sheer bastardness tended to see the day through.

Wind found it’s way into the alley, knocking over rubbish bins and rattling
about empty bottles. John hunched his shoulders instinctively. At the mouth
of the alley stood a girl with wild hair and inhuman eyes. John hunched
his shoulders more, if it was possible, and started a stream of profanity
that only threatened to get louder and more blasphemous as it went on. The
girl locked eyes with him and the words went to ash in his mouth. She held
out one slender hand—her dainty wrist encircled by a heavy gold band that
he was pretty sure was no ordinary trinket—and beckoned him.

Then she was gone as if she had never been. Didn’t even have the decency to vanish with a sound or a bit of theatric dust. Straight unnerving, that was.

“Well,” Hettie said with immense satisfaction. “She’s come Herself to give you an invitation.”

“Great,” said John “now if she’d only said where to.”

Well I am going down to nowhere
Its not too far from here
The Rain’ll be running rings
Around this tinpot cavalier
and there are skeletons and wastrels
As far as the eye can see
So if you want me baby
The Nowhere’s where I’ll be

Yeah I am going down to nowhere
Oh its childsplay
We are turning up our collars
We are hijacking the day
And you can tell me about your journeys
You can tell me all your dreams
But nothing comes close
To the nowhere that I’ve seen

And all you people heading somewhere
Well you don’t know what you’re missing
Cos there’s nothing like the freedom
Of a place where no one listens

So I am going down to nowhere
It is steeped in history
This is high-rise living for a
Joke Like me
We are such pretty little failures
On streets paved with fools gold
And no-one will think twice about
The nothing that they’ve sold

And all you people heading somewhere
Well you don’t know what you’re missing
Cos there’s nothing like the freedom
Of a place where no one listens

So I am going down to nowhere
With the drop-outs and the bums
I’m a soldier of the vacuum
When the darkness comes
I’m a vaudeville comedian
In a theatre of bones
And Its a laugh a minute
When nowhere is your home

Last Modified: Sep 05, 08
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Secondhand Angels

Ann discusses older brothers with Michael. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Michael, Tachibana An

He should have known Ann was going to come after him at some point the minute
his bastard of an older brother had shown up. Well, he had known, to be honest,
though he had been avoiding thinking about it.

She gave him a couple of days of space before cornering him while the guys practiced
singles (except for Kamio and Ibu, who were double-teaming Tachibana). "So,"
she said, settling the box of water bottles down on the ground. "’Mika-chan’?"
Her grin was sly as she stood.

"I fucking hate being called that," Michael growled.

"I could tell," she said, sounding just like her brother at his driest.
"He really pisses you off, huh?"

"Been doing that since we were born," Michael admitted, after a moment.
"The bastard." He waited for the inevitable round of questions—and
waited, and waited. She didn’t ask.

Instead, Ann chuckled. "I think that must be the natural function of older
brothers," she said. "Kippei can piss me off just by breathing."

Michael blinked. "He can?"

Ann rolled her eyes at him. "Of course he can. We’re siblings, y’know? If
we didn’t fight like cats and dogs, we wouldn’t be normal."

"But—" Michael was having trouble processing the notion, and this was
an excellent digression from the topic of his own brother. "You and Tachibana
fight?"

"Oh, yeah. Not as much these days, since I think he’s growing up on me or
something, and it’s like trying to pick a fight with the wall, but we manage."
Ann waved a hand. "He spends way too much time in the bathroom, fussing with
his hair, for one thing."

"He does?" Michael boggled.

"Uh-huh. He’s really vain." Ann grinned. "You don’t have to tell
him I told you that."

"Of course not," Michael managed, still trying to process these revelations.

"And according to him, I spend way too much time on the phone." Ann
tossed her head. "Which is silly, but what can you expect from a guy?"
There was no way Michael was crazy enough to answer, but Ann fixed him with a
piercing stare. "What do you and Lucifer-san fight about, Michael-kun?"

"Everything," he said, automatically.

Ann cast her eyes heavenwards. "Obviously," she said. "So tell
me about it."

"We’re twins," Michael said, and waited for the usual round of questions.
Ann just nodded, so he went on. "And there was this prophecy about us, that
one of us was gonna go bad someday. Everyone… thought it was gonna be me."

"That’s a nice sort of thing to saddle someone with," Ann muttered.
"Why you, and not him?"

Michael snorted. "Look, if you’d known him, you wouldn’t have to ask. The
bastard was born knowing how to do everything right. Me, I was the fuck-up. It
made sense that I’d be the rebel." In any case, it made more sense than the
way things had actually turned out.

Ann shook her head. "Mm-mm-mm."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, still shaking her head back and forth.

"What?" he demanded.

"It’s just… That’s a really shitty thing to do to a kid," she said.
She paused. "I’m not going to get hit by a lightning bolt for saying that,
am I?"

Michael had to laugh. "No," he said. "No lightning."

"Then I’ll blaspheme to my heart’s content." She cocked her head to
the side. "You don’t really think you’re a fuck-up, right?"

Ann had a gift for catching him off-guard, that’s for damn sure. "Umm."

"Thought so," she murmured, fixing him with a look—the same look Tachibana
tended to give the guys when the goofing off got out of hand. "Don’t be such
an idiot."

"Fuck, you’re bossy," Michael grumbled.

Ann grinned at him. "Dealing with all them, you kinda have to be," she
said, and looked out over the tennis courts. "I was kinda mad, at first."

"What?" Michael blinked at this latest change of direction.

"About getting a secondhand angel," she clarified, still studying the
guys.

Michael bristled. "Secondhand—"

Ann held up a hand. "Hear me out," she said, and he subsided. "Look,
when you came down here, you didn’t come to us in order to counter Hatter. You
went to Seigaku. They’re clearly the favorites to win Nationals, right?"

"They’d already defeated Rikkai," Michael admitted, and left the corollary—that
Rikkai had defeated Fudoumine—unspoken.

"Exactly my point," Ann said. "Everyone expects them to go on to
win Nationals, I think—in spite of Rikkai’s demon." She snorted. "And
they had the nerve to turn down angelic assistance and pass it off to us? That’s
pretty damn insulting, if you ask me."

"Um." Michael was at a loss. "Sorry?"

Ann shrugged. "It’s not your fault. It’s Seigaku’s captain who needs the
lesson about not underestimating his opponents." Her grin was sudden, and
fierce. "They don’t expect us to win. No one expected us to make it out of
district preliminaries, even. This being in Nationals thing? Just a fluke, as
far as everyone else is concerned."

"That’s a lot of hard work, just for a fluke," Michael said, jerking
his head at the fierce battles taking place in the practice matches.

"Exactly." Ann’s smile turned thin. "If we," she said, her
gaze sweeping over the boys and Michael, too, "had any intention of following
people’s expectations of us… we’d never have gotten anywhere. You know why we
don’t have a coach, Michael-kun?"

He’d wondered, but hadn’t pursued the topic. "No?"

"The boys ran him off," she said, tone dripping with satisfaction. "Used
to be that only upperclassmen played tennis around here. Didn’t matter how good
you were; if you were a freshman, all you did was pick up balls."

"That sucks," Michael said.

"Doesn’t it? The guys thought so, too," Ann said. "So they split
off, and formed their own team, and when their sempai hassled them, the guys fought
back. Now we have the tennis club, and their sempai play other sports."

"…So what happened to the coach?"

"Kippei beat him up," Ann said, matter-of-fact.

"He did?" Michael studied Tachibana. Yeah, okay. He could see that,
actually. "Cool."

Ann wasn’t done yet. "So when Seigaku gave us a hand-me-down angel, I was
pissed off. For one thing, I’d thought Tezuka had more respect for us."

"I think he does respect you," Michael offered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ann’s smile was rueful. "I cooled off eventually.
But that’s not the point. I was pissed off that he thought we couldn’t hack it
in Nationals without help."

"Like I’ve been that much help," Michael scoffed. "You guys were
just fine without me."

"Maybe we were," Ann agreed. "But I think we’re even better now."
She stretched, lacing her hands behind her head. "No one expects anything
of us. We’re the school no one’s ever heard of, the school that’s an accident.
It’s just a matter of time before we drop out of the play-offs, right?"

Michael snorted. "Yeah, right."

"We’re going to win." Ann’s voice was quiet, and dead serious. "Screw
what everybody else thinks of us. To hell with their expectations. Just because
they think it doesn’t make it true, right?"

"Absolutely," he agreed, grinning.

Ann leaned over and flicked his forehead. "So apply that to yourself, idiot,"
she said. "Same standards apply to you, as long as you’re one of ours."

"One of yours?" Michael repeated, rubbing at the sore spot.

"Aren’t you?" Ann’s smile was sweet, and utterly devious.

"I thought you didn’t want a secondhand angel," he said.

Ann grinned. "What would we do with anything else?" She looked at the
courts, where the matches were starting to wrap up. "Looks like they’re about
done. Here, make yourself useful." She kicked at the box of water bottles,
scooting it toward him, scooped up an armload of towels for herself, and trotted
off to the guys.

Michael picked up the box and followed after.

… Damn, but he liked these kids.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Persuasion

Ryouma makes some suggestions to Lucifer. Humor, I-2

Character(s): Echizen Ryouma, Lucifer

Ryoma was sitting on the porch at home when a tall man strolled into the yard
and stood in front of him. He decided that the man was probably someone that
he could get along with…or, rather, someone that he wished played tennis.
Ryoma tugged the brim of his hat and gave the man a grin that he saved for
when he was having a great amount of fun, such as playing a hard game, or
teasing Tezuka-buchou. “You came,” he commented.

“It’s unusual enough that someone would request an audience,
particularly in such a way that causes Kurai to arrive in my court spitting
like a cat,” said the man dryly.

Ryoma gave a half-shrug. “I thought you’d be better,” he
said offhandedly. “I wanted to ask if Rikkai and Fudoumine are going
to hell and heaven.”

Lucifer gave Ryoma what Ryoma hoped was a thoughtful look. “Belial
is planning to sign that entire group of humans, but Michael doesn’t
appear to have created a binding contract with his associates.”

Ryoma nodded. “And heaven and hell…they’re at war or something?”

The moment of silence that followed that question sounded more amused than
anything. “Heaven and hell are currently in the process of reorganization.
There’s fighting going on, but there is not a war. There are factions
that hold various areas.”

“Well,” said Ryoma slowly, “If you’re recruiting
mortals…even for the far future…there are ways to keep factions
that don’t like each other from war. I mean, you know that humans compete
and work things out that way. Since humans are used to it, getting humans
would help, too.”

Lucifer smirked. “Are you suggesting that I challenge Michael to a
tennis match?”

“He might say yes, after he tried to kill you,” Ryoma pointed
out. “And the look on his face would be worth it, wouldn’t it?”

Ryoma grinned as Lucifer, the lord of Hell, began to laugh.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Headaches

Tezuka finds out what Ryouma’s been up to. Humor, I-2

Tezuka Kunimitsu decided that he was having a bad day when Echizen walked
up to him with that look in his eye; the one that Echizen had picked up from
Fuji. Tezuka had seriously begun wondering whether he should go to his mother’s
cousin…or even his mother’s old relative, for that matter. However,
his recollections of his mother’s old relative included the fact that
Hiiragizawa-san had a sense of humor about on a level with Fuji’s,
and more than enough power to make things complicated for the rest of the
world. Tezuka therefore resigned himself to dealing with Echizen now and
worrying later.

“I spoke with one of them,” said Echizen obliquely. “Not
about a deal, though. I wanted to see what was going on in heaven and hell,”
Echizen added virtuously.

Tezuka gave him a Look, and hoped that the information Echizen gave him wouldn’t
be that unnerving, this time.

Echizen shrugged. “Well, I’ve heard that there’s political
instability. And there’s fighting. And even with the people who have
stable groups, there’s a lot of rivalry between them. And, well, there
might be temporary alliances against common enemies, but it’s still
really tense.”

Tezuka crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Echizen.

Echizen shifted and actually looked slightly guilty. “So I made a suggestion,
since Rikkai is going to be there and maybe Fudoumine. And since they’re
grabbing other human souls.” Echizen paused. “Because competition
is good for getting out impulses that might turn to violence, and as long
as a lot of souls would be hanging out in heaven anyway…”

“Echizen.” Tezuka pressed a hand to his face.

“He didn’t say ‘no,’” Echizen added, grinning.

Tezuka decided that he just might need to go talk to his relatives after
all.

Last Modified: Jan 05, 05
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Green Eyed

Raphael comes looking for Michael and gets a surprise. Drama with Humor, I-2

"Oh, for pity’s sake," Barbiel said, slamming the folder down
on Raphael’s desk. "If you miss him that badly, go find him already!"
She scowled. "I cannot stand another minute of this moping!"

Raphael blinked, and settled on a response. "I’m not moping," he said.

"Like hell you’re not moping," Barbiel grumbled. She pointed at the
door. "Out. And don’t come back until you two have made up."

"You can’t kick me out of my own office," Raphael protested.

Barbiel planted her hands on the desk and leaned over it, until they were nose-to-nose.
"Watch me. Out."

Discretion seemed the better part of valor at this point, so he went, and had
to admit he was glad for the excuse to go find out what had been keeping Michael
out of his hair lately. Not that he had been moping over not having his offices
blown up on a regular basis, of course. Where did the woman come up with her ideas?
But it wasn’t a bad idea to look in on the angel of fire and see what he was up
to.


"Not here?" Well, judging from the progress the work crews were making
on Michael’s palace, it was obvious that Camael wasn’t lying, and that Michael
hadn’t been around for some time. "Where is he?"

Camael seemed as puzzled by Michael’s absence as Raphael was, but distinctly grateful
for the chance to get some much-needed structural work taken care of. He shrugged.
"We think he’s been spending his time in Assiah. Shall I let him know you’ve
been looking for him?"

"No need," Raphael said. "I’m sure I’ll bump into him sooner or
later."


Considering that there were no active wars on at the moment, and no prophecies
coming due, there was an insane amount of divine and diabolic activity happening
in Assiah, more than could logically be accounted for by the Messiah’s presence.
Raphael wrinkled his nose and avoided Kanagawa Prefecture entirely—it stank of
Belial, and he had no desire to tangle with that one—and settled for tracking
Michael’s movements across Tokyo.

He very nearly bypassed the first school, figuring it for a fluke, until the boy
with glasses looked directly at him, sighed, and inquired, "We’re not interested,
but thank you anyway." He eyed Raphael. "You might try Hyoutei."

So, not a fluke after all. Raphael studied the boy, who was obviously a seer of
some sort—well, the old bloodlines still ran true, sometimes. "I’m not here
on business," he said. "I’m looking for an associate."

"I sent Michael to Fudoumine," the boy said promptly. "If you’re
looking for Lucifer, he was looking for Michael."

Raphael willed his blood not to drain from his face (Tokyo, after all, hadn’t
gone up in flames yet, so he still had time). "Thank you," he said,
and hurried off.


The tennis courts at Fudoumine were tranquil—much more so than he had expected—and
when he landed next to Michael with a thump, Raphael wasn’t sure whether to be
relieved or annoyed by the absence of any cataclysms.

"Raphael." Michael eyed him. "What lit a fire under your ass?"

Raphael shook his wings out, irritably, and furled them away. "Nothing,"
he said, looking around. "So this is where you’ve been."

"Yup," Michael said, looking embarrassed.

"Yo, Michael, who’s this one?" one of the humans called out.

"Just a guy I work with," Michael said, lazily, waving them back to
their game. "Nothing to worry about."

"Ah, so Lucifer has been here after all," Raphael murmured. "And
the place is still standing?"

"Why wouldn’t it be?"

Raphael turned to see a young human female watching them. "Mika-chan isn’t
known for his restraint," he murmured, "and Lucifer has a way of bringing
out the worst in him."

"Does he?" She cocked her head. "Michael-kun, are you going to
introduce me?"

"You don’t wanna know this guy," Michael warned her. She gave him a
look. "Fine, fine. This is Raphael, angel of wind and all-around pervert.
Raphael, Tachibana Ann."

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, bowing over her hand.

"…Right." Ann didn’t seem particularly impressed. "What brings
you to Fudoumine, Raphael-san?"

"Curiosity," he said, and looked back to Michael. "Care to explain
to me why you’re supporting a junior high tennis team?"

Michael opened his mouth, and then closed it. Raphael raised an eyebrow, waiting,
and Ann looked back and forth between them, openly curious. Finally Michael lifted
his chin and glared at Raphael. "’Cause these guys are cool," he said.
"I like them." His expression dared Raphael to say something about it.

Raphael held his peace, out of consideration for the humans present, and pursued
a slightly different subject. "Yes, but… tennis?"

Michael shrugged. "Hatter started it, with Rikkai. Seemed like a good idea
to counter her."

The logic behind that was purest Michael: Belial was Lucifer’s creature, so anything
se did was at least tacitly approved by the Lord of Hell. Therefore, countering
Belial was really countering Lucifer. "You really are a simple creature,"
Raphael sighed.

"Never claimed to be anything but," Michael said, calmly. He looked
past Raphael, to the tennis courts. "They’re looking good today," he
observed.

"They are," Ann agreed, sounding pleased. "Demons or not, we’re
going to give Rikkai hell at Nationals."

And as neatly as that, he had been dismissed. Raphael sniffed, but Michael ignored
him in favor of a discussion of a training regimen, and eventually he gave up
and left.


"I said we weren’t interested." Tezuka looked at Raphael over the
rims of his glasses, and it wasn’t quite a glare, but it was close.

"I know you did," Raphael said, calmly, "but consider this: Your
shoulder, while recovered, is still vulnerable, and in conjunction with the fact
that all of your closest rivals now have angelic or demonic support of various
kinds, Seishun Gakuen is at a considerable disadvantage. You can try to do this
on your own, but there comes a point where pride must give way to practicalities."

"Tezuka, your shoulder—" Oishi began.

"My shoulder is fine," Tezuka snapped.

"It is not." Raphael crossed his arms. "Trust me, I should know.
I am Heaven’s most renowned physician."

Fuji opened his eyes. "Tezuka." They locked eyes. "None of us will
think any less of you for accepting his aid."

Tezuka’s mouth thinned to an angry slash, but Echizen spoke before he could. "Buchou.
You didn’t have a problem sending an angel to Tachibana," he said. "And
I know you’re looking forward to meeting Yukimura. Why is what’s okay for them
wrong for you?" He paused for a beat, to let that soak in. "Besides,
they deserve to meet you at your best."

Tezuka sucked in a breath, but when he let it out, his mouth had softened. "Well
done, Echizen," he murmured. The boy grinned, and adjusted his cap. Tezuka
looked back to Raphael, who had observed this byplay with interest. "We accept
your offer," he said, slowly, "but only for as much aid as is strictly
necessary." His team let out its collective breath in relief, and Tezuka
swept his gaze over them. "Back to practice, all of you."

They grinned at him and dispersed, Momoshiro lifting Echizen’s cap in order to
ruffle his hair as they went.

"I have to admit," Raphael said, after they had gone, "I didn’t
think you would accept my offer."

Tezuka was quiet for a long moment before replying. "I would rather not have,"
he said, finally. "But… to be able to play, all-out, against Yukimura,
and Tachibana, and Atobe, without lingering fears…" His smile was quick,
gone as quickly as it had come. "It is very compelling."

"So I see," Raphael said. He reached out, probing Tezuka’s shoulder,
and made a face. "If you had gone ahead without me, you would have ruined
this. It’s just as well that I came back here."

Tezuka snorted. "I had wondered about that. You seem more Hyoutei’s type."

"Quite possibly I am, but I detest Sakaki Tarou and his artistic pretensions,"
Raphael explained, sending a bit of power through the joint. "There."

Tezuka rotated his shoulder. "Ah. Better. Thank you." He picked up his
racquet, ready to head to practice, but stopped. "Raphael-san. A question?"
Raphael inclined his head. "Why are your people getting involved?"

"I can’t speak for the demons, but as far as the angels…" Raphael
shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you it goes back to sibling rivalry?"

"I might, but that still doesn’t explain your presence," Tezuka murmured.

Raphael smiled, and gave the most honest reason he was willing own up to having.
"I’m trying to piss Mika-chan off."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow, but let the matter drop, and moved off to join his teammates
at practice.

Raphael laced his hands behind his head and contemplated the summer sky. It was,
he decided, a beautiful day.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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Relatives

Tezuka talks to relatives about his problems. Drama, Humor, I-2

Tezuka looked around the mansion he’d been ushered into, a sinking feeling
in his stomach indicating that this was a horribly bad idea and he should
just go home. He wondered where his better judgment had gone, and decided
that it had probably left in disgust the moment he spoke with an angel. He
noted the rather prominent chair at the other end of the room, which was
made all the more notable for the fact that the tea table a few feet away
from it had a motif of peach and cherry blossoms.

“Nakuru calls it the Throne of Evil,” an amused voice informed him
from the shadows. “I would move it out of the room, but everyone’s
terribly fond of it, especially little Nadeshiko.” There was a pause. “I
had no idea I had another cute relative in Tokyo.”

Tezuka’s expression didn’t change. “I was under the impression
that you kept track of the Li family and where they went.”

A man emerged from the shadows. Tezuka quirked an eyebrow at the man’s apron,
which had a pink heart on it, and his blue head kerchief. The man smiled brightly
at Tezuka. “Well, I kept track of Ayana until I was sure she was happily
married, but I couldn’t possibly track all of the children that married
out of the Li family through the years, now can I?”

“I suppose not,” said Tezuka stiffly. “I apologize for my rudeness.
I’m Tezuka Kunimitsu. It’s an honor to meet you, ancestor.”

“Pfft. You make me feel old. I’m Hiiragizawa Eriol, though you’re
free to call me ‘uncle’ if you like.” Something about Eriol’s
purely friendly smile made Tezuka uneasy. He wasn’t sure precisely why he
wanted to have a wall at his back at the moment, but he forced himself to ignore
the urge and go on.

“…Uncle,” Tezuka began. He was mystified when Eriol snickered,
but Eriol waved at him to go on. “I don’t want to take up much of
your time…”

“Oh, but you must stay for tea,” Eriol said firmly. “Indulge
a poor old man like myself and sit,” Eriol said, waving to the table. “I
already made enough for both of us, and if Nakuru and Spinel stop being so eerily
quiet, I’m sure they’ll enjoy the tea too.”

As if on cue, there was a crash from upstairs, accompanied by a series of thuds.
Eriol walked over to poke his head out the door. “Is everyone alright?”
he called.

“I DIDN’T DO IT SUPPI DID!”

Eriol sighed faintly. “I suppose I’ll find out later,” he said,
waving at Tezuka to sit down, again.

Tezuka hesitantly moved to take a seat and Eriol poured the tea. Upon trying one
of the scones, he remarked, “This is very good. Where did you get it?”

“Oh, I like to cook,” Eriol said offhandedly. He shrugged at Tezuka’s
mystified look. “If I couldn’t make proper scones myself, I’d
have to give back my English heritage, and that would be very difficult at this
point. But you said you have a problem,” he added, just as Tezuka took another
bite of the scone.

Tezuka attempted not to give Eriol a dark look, and succeeded only from a life
of training. It took Tezuka a few minutes to finish the piece of scone, and he
said, “I’ve been visited by members of the heavenly host. And people
from hell. Currently, the archangel Raphael has healed my shoulder…”

“I noticed that you’d been touched by an angel,” Eriol remarked
into his teacup. Tezuka decided that he never, ever wanted Eriol to meet Fuji.
He knew that inflection, and given that Fuji might have already spoken with that
demon, Tezuka did not need any more headaches.

“…Yes. Michael offered, but I refused. Lucifer and the Mad Hatter
have also visited.” Tezuka looked down at his teacup. “I’m concerned
for the well-being of my team…”

“You’re looking at the Nationals, aren’t you?” At Tezuka’s
glance, Eriol added, “I’m psychic. Also, your mother sends me regular
letters.” Tezuka scowled at Eriol, whose smile only brightened. “Got
to keep up on the children who are close by, wot?”

Tezuka knew better than to point out that Eriol had said the opposite earlier
and forged on. “I just wanted your assurance that, in the interests of looking
after your family, you would be willing to help me if any of mine trapped themselves
in a mistake.”

Eriol nodded. “Of course. I’m always willing to help out family. I’ll
have to meet your team, now, to make sure there isn’t undue influence already…”

Tezuka twitched, and nearly did so again when he realized that Eriol’s smile
didn’t have to change to look cheerfully evil. “I’m sure that
Raphael…”

Eriol took a sip of tea. “Yes, yes, he’s very good at what he does,
but I should see my nephew’s friends, and besides, the last time I saw a
good game of tennis was at Wimbledon.”

“Thank you,” Tezuka managed. “…though,” he added,
suddenly thoughtful, “I might need your help in making a fair balance.”

Eriol set down his cup as his smile shifted to one of polite interest. “Oh?
Keeping the balance in what way?”

“It would require too much participation, really,” Tezuka added. He
shook his head. “I’d hate to impose on you, since I know that they
have a minor angel taking care of them already…” Tezuka kept his gaze
firmly on his teacup.

“Do tell,” Eriol urged, sitting back and steepling his fingers. “You’ve
intrigued me.”

“Hyoutei seems to be the only school in serious contention in the Nationals
without special backing,” Tezuka explained. “They have an angel, but
not one on the level of the others, and I’d be disappointed if they were
put at a disadvantage by no fault of their own.”

Eriol looked thoughtful. “I have been looking for something to do with my
free time.” When the smile returned, Tezuka found himself wondering if he
felt sorrier for Hyoutei or for the other teams. “I’ll help you out.
Now, let’s finish our tea, and then I’ll go meet your lovely boys.”

It was at that point that Tezuka began to wonder who had manipulated whom. He
pushed the thought aside, deciding that in this case, he really didn’t
want to know.

Last Modified: Jul 28, 10
Posted: Jan 05, 05
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In the Family

Belial introduces the Fujis to the Mudous. Drama with Humor, I-3

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

"Aniki, couldn’t you have gotten Saeki-san to practice with you?"
Yuuta asked.

The complaint was for form’s sake, and his brother’s smile said that he knew
it perfectly well. Still. Their… reconciliation… was new enough that
Yuuta would have preferred some time away from potential irritants and interruptions.

"Ah, Fuji-kun, what marvelous timing you have. One was hoping to introduce
you."

Interruptions like that. Yuuta sighed, resigned, and then had to take a second
look at the person who had hailed his brother. He didn’t think he’d ever
seen anyone dressed quite that flamboyantly outside a festival. Or, possibly,
a circus. He was busy enough looking at the top hat that it took him a few
moments to notice that his brother had paused beside the strange person,
and was now standing on Yuuta’s other side.

Between him and the strangers. Yuuta took a closer look.

There were, in fact, three of them. The other two looked far more normal. A
young man and woman, both blond and looking alike enough they had to be related.
So what was it about them that was making Aniki tense up?

"Friends of yours, Hatter-san?" his brother asked the oddly dressed
one.

"One rather doubts it," the Hatter person answered, serenely. "Fuji-kun,
this is Mudou Setsuna, erstwhile Messiah, and Sara, his…"

"Girlfriend," Setsuna put in, very firmly.

"Of course," Hatter murmured, "and this is Fuji Shuusuke, and
his brother, Yuuta I believe it was?"

"Yes." Aniki’s smile was starting to sharpen.

So, Yuuta tallied up in his own mind, this person who seemed to know his brother,
and who his brother seemed a little wary of, wanted to introduce them to
a couple who looked remarkably like relatives. He swallowed hard and tried
to keep breathing.

"Aniki," he managed, "who is this?" And, more importantly,
what did he know?

His brother stepped a little closer to him. "This is Mad Hatter. He’s
a demon."

Yuuta turned his head to look at his brother, who appeared to be serious. "A
demon?" he repeated, just on the off chance he’d actually misheard.

"Quite," Hatter agreed. And a pair of black wings unfolded behind
him.

Yuuta stared. "Aniki," he said, very calmly, "what did you put
in my juice this morning?"

"One does assure you, it wasn’t your brother," Hatter assured him,
waving one wing.

"A demon," Aniki reiterated, "who isn’t going to be having anything
to do with you, Yuuta. Is he?" Hatter was now on the receiving end of
a very dangerous look.

He didn’t seem concerned.

"Ah, siblings," Hatter sighed. "They’re so precious." He
fanned his wings. "And entertaining. Why don’t the four of you have
a nice little chat, then? One is sure it will be good for all of you."

And then he sank out of sight into his own shadow. Yuuta stared at the sidewalk
and reminded himself that it wasn’t healthy to hyperventilate.

"So," Setsuna sighed, running a hand through his hair, "you’ve
met Hatter before?"

"He can be entertaining company," Aniki observed.

Setsuna blinked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. "I’ll
stop worrying, then!"

Sara swatted his shoulder. "Setsuna, cut it out. Maybe Fuji-san didn’t
know what he was getting into." She gave them a bright, sympathetic
smile, and Yuuta relaxed in spite of himself. It might be nice to talk with
her sometime, actually. If he was reading the situation right, she might
understand a few things.

"You think?" Setsuna asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I
bet he did. He’d probably get along with Hatter’s boss, too." The thought
seemed to amuse him.

Sara planted her hands on her hips. "Enough of that! You said you’d wait
until we were both reborn to start playing politics with everyone again."

"Right, right," Setsuna raised his hands, placatingly. "Anyway,
I think we’ll probably see you at Nationals, Fuji."

"Really?" Aniki sounded only mildly curious, and Yuuta sighed. Some
day, he’d figure out how his brother did it.

Setsuna grinned. "I’m a friend of Tachibana’s."

"Small world," Aniki commented in an amiable tone.

"Gettin’ smaller every day," Setsuna answered ruefully over his shoulder
as his… sister?… towed him off with great determination.

"Are you sure we can’t have a nice, calm day inside?" Yuuta asked,
looking straight ahead, just in case any other weirdness was strolling by.

His brother laughed, softly. "That might be a good idea after all. Come
on, let’s head home."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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Addition and Distraction

Yanagi talks with Belial. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Mad Hatter, Yanagi Renji

It had been a long practice, and only got longer when Hatter decided to tease
Genichirou. Renji sighed.

"Enough," Seiichi intervened, at last. He came between the laughing
demon and a bristling Genichirou, and took Hatter’s shoulders, turning her
to face him. "Enough, Belial," he repeated, "I won’t have
this during practice. And you and I will talk, later, about your habit of
trying to destroy the things you want."

Hatter waved a light hand. "As you wish, of course."

Renji observed Hatter’s parted lips and the quick flutter of her lashes down
over eyes gone dark as Seiichi let her go. That was not entirely surprising;
he had spent years watching one person after another fall to Seiichi’s charisma.
What surprised him more was the fire and sharpness in Seiichi’s gaze. That
was not the kind of look their captain shared with outsiders, other than
the very best of his rivals. And even then, only during a full out match.

Renji waited for Hatter after practice.

"Another talk hm?" Hatter asked, looking him up and down. "One
hopes you’re less volatile than Sanada-kun. Not that it wasn’t entertaining."

"If it isn’t an imposition," Renji said, staying polite and noncommittal.

"So?" Hatter prodded, as they strolled through the school grounds.

"What is between you and Seiichi?"

"One could have sworn he explained that some time ago," Hatter murmured,
trailing her fingers through the leaves overhead.

It was an outside chance, but Renji decided to try shock. If nothing else,
Hatter’s reaction should give him a range for the next shot. "He looked
at you, this afternoon, the way I’ve seen him look down at me when his fingers
are stroking inside me," he said, softly.

Hatter’s step paused, and she directed a half-lidded look up at the sun. "One
can imagine," she said, low and husky. She leaned against a tree and
smiled at Renji from the corner of her eye. "You want to know whether
one has been in bed with him, don’t you?"

"I already know you haven’t," Renji corrected. The faint wistful
edge in her reaction had told him that much. "But I would still like
to know just what’s going on."

Hatter blinked, and then laughed. "You’re very good at this," she
complimented him. "One would have thought, though," she added,
mouth quirking, "that what is going on would be fairly obvious to one
of you."

Renji considered that, and added it to his previous suspicions. "Seiichi
does believe very strongly in reciprocality," he essayed.

"One gathered that, yes," Hatter said, dryly. "Generally, a
mortal soul isn’t strong enough to hold one."

Generally, Renji imagined not. So. Seiichi really had decided to gather
Mad Hatter up into the circle of his own. Which left the question of what
the rest of them were going to do with their newest addition. "Are truth
and honesty the same things, to you?" he asked, another thought coming
to him.

Hatter raised her brows. "No, they are not," she answered, softly,
eyes intent on him.

Renji nodded. Knowing that, he could work with it. Genichirou, on the other
hand, wouldn’t deal with such a division so easily. "Could they be?"

"Are you bargaining with one, Yanagi-kun?" Hatter asked.

Renji smiled. "The bargain has already been made, Hatter. Genichirou says
that you’ve tasted Seiichi’s soul. I doubt you can leave us, now. It would
make things easier, though, if you could moderate your use of the team for
amusement."

Hatter stared at him. "One will take that under consideration," she
murmured. She tilted her head and added, "You… don’t mind it?"

"Seiichi shares his soul very freely, once he chooses to do so at all,"
Renji answered, quietly. "It’s one of the things we love in him."

Pain flickered behind Hatter’s eyes before they became shuttered. "I will
consider what you say," she said, and vanished into the rustling shadows
of the leaves.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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Regarding

A memo is mis-directed to Tsuzuki’s desk. Humor with Drama

Most of Enma-chou’s workers, if asked, would say that Tsuzuki never knew what
was on his desk. Notices of meetings, memos about cases, budget forms, if
any of them were attended to before it was too late, it was the talk of the
department for weeks. According to the average Watari had worked out once
to settle a bet in the cafeteria, Tsuzuki was only seen actually reading
anything at his desk once every five weeks.

If asked, Tsuzuki would have pointed out, quite reasonably, that he knew exactly
what was on his desk. He found out once every five weeks, on average.

"Late anyway, late anyway, closed last week, late anyway," he muttered,
sorting through the pile of paper. "Late… hunh?"

"Is one of them actually still current?" Hisoka asked, acidly, not
looking up from filling out next month’s budget request form.

"Yes," Tsuzuki said, slowly, "but it’s not from here."

Now Hisoka looked up. "What?"

"To all demons rank of Brigadier or Duke," Tsuzuki read aloud, "from
the domain of Beelzebub. Angelic response to recent demonic acquisitions
among mortals are reaching undesirable levels. Any demons who are free are
encouraged to go, forthwith, to Assiah (e.g. Earth, the mortal realm) and
rectify this. Sec’y, Choronzon."

Hisoka was staring. "There is nothing more blind than bureaucracy,"
he declared with conviction. "They can’t possibly really think you’ll
participate."

"Well, no, of course not." Tsuzuki nibbled his lip. "But I do
kind of wonder just what’s going on."

"Not our business," Hisoka said, promptly.

"But we don’t have a case right now," Tsuzuki murmured, fingering
the memo. "We could go take a look. No harm in that."

Hisoka gave him a baleful look for a long moment before throwing up his hands.
"Fine. Fine! Don’t think you’re going without me, though. Who knows
what you’ll get involved with if you go alone."

Tsuzuki smiled at his partner, pleased that Hisoka wanted to come, too. It
would be good for Hisoka to get out more. "Of course."


"Tennis?" Hisoka said for about the sixth time. "Two
of the Great Angels, a Demon Lord, the Messiah, Gabriel’s reincarnation,
and a Principality are all here on Earth, dancing around each other, stressing
the fabric of reality, getting involved with tennis teams?"

"I’m pretty sure a lesser demon was hiding out in one of the boys, too,"
Tsuzuki added. "Some of them do have a lot of spiritual power, I suppose."
He had to admit to being just a little puzzled, himself, though. Not that
he couldn’t see the fun in watching these boys play; they were very determined
and earnest and involved. But he was fairly sure that high ranking celestials
wouldn’t be hanging around just to appreciate that.

Fairly sure. That Mad Hatter character was making him wonder.

"Maybe we should ask the Gushoushin whether this has ever happened before,"
Hisoka said, frowning. "This concentration of them on Earth can’t be
good."

"I do wonder what it might be doing to the boys, to be around this many
celestials," Tsuzuki agreed, leaning on the fence to watch the latest
team on their list. There didn’t seem to be any demons around, or angels
either, which almost surprised him. He could hear the church bells from further
down the campus. One of the boys did seem to have a touch of… something,
though. Tsuzuki squinted.

"Hisoka, can you get anything off that one?" he asked, gesturing.

Just in time for the boy to notice and take a few fast steps back, steel gray
eyes wide. A tall, dark teammate came to him and asked something. After a
short exchange involving some vigorous gestures they both approached the
watchers at the fence.

"Oh, just great," Hisoka groaned.

"I’m sorry, but we don’t allow spectators at club practices," the
dark one said, politely.

Tsuzuki smiled as brightly and soothingly as he could. "We don’t want
to be any trouble, we just wanted to check that no one was bothering your
team."

The gray eyed boy backed up a little more. "I was right, you are another
of them!" he exclaimed.

"No, no," Tsuzuki protested holding up his hands, "we’re not,
really. Exactly."

Hisoka smacked him on the shoulder. "And now you’ve confirmed that we
know exactly what he’s talking about." He gave the wary boy a direct
look. "We’re not angels or demons. Shut up, Tsuzuki,"
he added, as Tsuzuki’s innate honesty made him start to correct the technical
lie. "Our work deals with the messes they leave behind a lot, and we
just want to contain the damage this time."

The dark boy, who had listened to all this with his head tipped consideringly,
asked, "So what are you?"

"Shinigami."

Both boys edged back this time.

"We’re not here on a case," Tsuzuki hastened to add. "It’s just…
I think one of them has already touched you." He looked at the gray
eyed boy.

The boy crossed his arms. "Aniki said Hatter would stay away from me."

"Yuuta." The dark boy put a hand on his shoulder. "Fuji Shuusuke
is impressive, but setting him against a demon? This year has gotten strange
enough; if it’s affecting you we should do something."

Tsuzuki fished through his memories of the day for that name. Ah, yes, the
watchful one at Seishun Gakuen. "I’m sure your brother will do all he
can protect you. And it’s true that Seigaku has its own guardian," Tsuzuki
said, softly, "but the Mad Hatter has a reputation for power and subtlety.
Your brother doesn’t have the training to deal with that, and Raphael doesn’t
have the motivation. Celestials don’t usually get involved with humans without
an ulterior motive."

"So what, precisely, are you suggesting?" a new voice asked from
behind them. Tsuzuki turned to see a slight boy with sharp eyes watching
them.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta greeted him.

"Yuuta-kun, Akazawa," he nodded, and turned his eyes back to Tsuzuki.
"So?"

"To keep outside influences away," Tsuzuki said, simply.

Hisoka slumped against the fence and crossed his arms. "You said it was
just to look," he reminded Tsuzuki. "Not that I believed it for
a single second, but that was what you said."

"We can’t just leave this," Tsuzuki answered firmly, knowing that
his partner didn’t genuinely disagree. Probably.

"Fine, fine." Hisoka raked a hand through his hair. "Just don’t
expect me to ask Kurikara to get involved in this. Though he’d probably laugh
too hard to manage to be insulting, for once."

Tsuzuki smiled, and reached out with the warmth of his pleasure in place of
actually touching Hisoka’s arm, which his partner hated for him to do in
public. Hisoka sniffed and gave him a sidelong look a little softer than
usual.

"I see," Mizuki murmured. "Yuuta-kun?" Yuuta blinked. "It
is your team, now," Mizuki told him, with a very significant look for
such a simple statement.

Yuuta was still for a moment before his mouth tightened. "Yes," he
agreed, not as though he enjoyed the thought right at the moment. "We
accept," he told Tsuzuki.

"Great!" Tsuzuki beamed at him.

"Right," Yuuta sighed. "Excuse me, then, I need to get back
to practice."

Tsuzuki fetched out a handful of ofuda, sorting through them, as the three
boys turned back toward the courts.

"Mizuki-san, I understand why," he heard Yuuta saying as Mizuki came
up to walk beside him, "but why them?"

"Because they seem like the most disinterested parties we’re likely to
get," Mizuki told him. "Besides, doesn’t he have lovely eyes? You
know how fond I am of purple."

"Mizuki-san!" Yuuta sputtered.

Tsuzuki decided, observing Hisoka’s suddenly edged glare at Mizuki’s back,
that it would be better for all concerned if he pretended he hadn’t heard
that.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 18, 05
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Marked

Somewhat troubled, Belial seeks out Yukimura. Drama, I-3

Belial found Seiichi on the roof of his own house, watching the sky from a
nest of pillows and blankets.

"Here to watch the stars, Hatter-san?" Seiichi asked, after a moment,
not looking around.

When Belial didn’t answer, he looked. "Hatter-san? Come out."

Belial took a few steps out of the shadow, not far enough to show hir face.
Apparently, it was still too many, because Seiichi stood, frowning, and came
to hir. He took hir face between his hands and gave hir a long, searching
look before taking hir hands and leading hir back to his pillow-nest. "You’re
here now; come watch for a while," he said, tugging Belial down.

Se still wasn’t beyond being surprised that someone who fought so fiercely
could be so gentle, and se gazed up at Seiichi’s face as he curled up beside
hir and propped his head on one hand. Belial had no idea what hir face might
be showing, but whatever it was made Seiichi smile. He ran his fingers through
hir hair, dislodging today’s small, round hat.

"You’ve spent a lot of time and energy courting me, working to gain my
willing compliance to go along with my binding signature," he said,
softly. "Is it so hard to believe that you’ve won me?"

The pleasure of hearing Seiichi say it out loud was promptly followed by the
confusion that had set Belial to wandering so restlessly this evening. "Won
you… and yet you haven’t left them," se murmured, trying out the taste
and shape of the words. Just how much room did hir human have in his heart?

"No, I haven’t," Seiichi agreed, brushing hir cheek with the backs
of his fingers. "I don’t leave those I care for. I won’t leave you,
either." He laughed, barely a breath in the night air. "After all,
aren’t souls immortal?"

"They are." To stay with hir, to not leave hir… The idea tugged
at hir even more sharply than the glowing clarity of Seiichi’s soul. Belial
belonged to Lucifer-sama, there was no question about that. But se was having
trouble denying any longer that Seiichi had gained a claim on hir also; at
least he seemed willing to share. Se reached up to thread a hand through
his hair, like ink marking hir fingers in the dark. Se drew him down to hir,
and he smiled, coming willingly, folding the brightness of his presence around
hir like wings.

"Have you ever lost?" se murmured against his lips.

"Very rarely," he replied before opening his mouth to hir kiss.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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Tickets to Zimbabwe

Eriol visits Seigaku, much to Tezuka’s dismay. Humor, I-1

Tezuka could have predicted that Eriol would walk right up to Fuji. He also
could have predicted the sweet smile that would grace Eriol’s face
when said meeting occurred. He had not, however, predicted that Fuji would
smile and greet Eriol as if the man were an old friend. Eriol didn’t
turn around to look at Tezuka as he explained, “One recognizes one’s
own nature in others. It’s what allows one to survive in the world,
Mitsu-chan.”

As the rest of the boys had already drifted over to see who the interloper was,
Tezuka was quite aware that they were all giving him nervous or questioning looks
at the nickname. Tezuka crossed his arms. “This is my uncle, Hiiragizawa
Eriol. He insisted that he meet all of you.”

Echizen walked right up to Eriol and eyed him openly. Eriol returned the look
with a sweet smile so reminiscent of Fuji’s that Momo and Kaidou both backed
up hurriedly. Echizen, seemingly undisturbed by this, nodded decisively and said,
“Echizen Ryoma. It’s nice to meet you.” With that, he headed
off towards the courts, leaving most of the group staring after him.

Eriol frowned slightly as he watched Echizen’s back, then began snickering
quietly. By the time Fuji managed to give him a questioning look, he schooled
his expression back to a polite smile. “Oh,” responded to Fuji’s
look, “Someone in his family knew an angel, that’s all.” Eriol
refused to say more on the subject, even when Tezuka asked, later.

Tezuka didn’t actively begin to worry until Eriol pulled Oishi away from
the group and sat him down on a bench. Everyone else had returned to normal practice,
on threat of laps, so Tezuka couldn’t watch what was going on between his
relative and his friend. It was only when he noticed the odd looks Oishi was giving
him upon his return to the courts that Tezuka decided that he never wanted to
know.

After practice, Eriol appeared to have magically vanished, because Tezuka refused
to believe that Eriol was hiding up in the tree that Echizen habitually napped
underneath. When Echizen walked up to pat Tezuka comfortingly on the back, Tezuka
was unnerved enough to mutter something under his breath.

“What did he say?” he heard Fuji ask Echizen as they went to change.

“I’m not sure. Something about plane tickets to Zimbabwe.”

“Ah.”

Last Modified: Sep 06, 08
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A Small Problem

Aziraphale comes looking for Crowley. Humor, I-2

It was a beautiful day: the sunlight was warm and the bleachers reasonably comfortable,
and his host didn’t have a match with Atobe for at least another half hour. Crowley
stretched and yawned, supremely content with just how good life was.

It really was a pity that things were about to get so complicated.


The man had been peering at passing students and his surroundings with such confusion
that it was obvious that he was wildly out of place. Choutarou pegged him as a
tourist immediately, and felt obliged to offer his assistance (in his most careful
English, since this man seemed to be about as non-Japanese as they came) in the
form of directions, or perhaps a map.

However, the offer of directions had turned into a playing tour guide, with Choutarou
dredging up vocabulary words he didn’t remember learning and wondering how he’d
agreed to this. The man was very polite and very curious, and somehow Choutarou
just couldn’t bring himself to be rude enough to excuse himself from his newfound
role. Their walking tour of the Hyoutei campus dragged on, until they fetched
up at the tennis courts.

The expression on Atobe’s face promised that he would be especially cutting in
regards to Choutarou’s lateness, and there was no telling what Kantoku would have
to say—

Except that Kantoku seemed more concerned with his befuddled tourist than with
Choutarou’s late arrival to practice.

"What do you want?" Kantoku demanded of the stranger.

"It’s lovely to see you again, too, Sakaki-san," the man said, in flawless
Japanese, suddenly standing much straighter and looking much more comfortable
than he’d been a moment ago. "I trust you’ve been well?" Choutarou wanted
very badly to let his manners slip so that he could make a face at his formerly
clueless tourist, especially after the man slid his eyes sidewise and gave him
a small smile.

"Well enough. Ohtori, go warm up," Kantoku said, crisply, and wasn’t
it funny that he seemed ill-at-ease?

There was no chance now to find out what was going on, so Choutarou bowed and
headed for the clubhouse, shrugging at Shishido along the way to indicate that
he didn’t have any clue.


"What do you want?" Sakaki asked again, once the boy had left the range
of earshot.

"Really, there’s no need to be rude," Aziraphale said, chidingly. "I
merely happened to be in the neighborhood, and thought I’d stop by and say hello."
He glanced around. "So… tennis? How fascinating."

"Yes, tennis," Sakaki said, and really, his chin couldn’t jut out much
further. "And music."

"Delightful," Aziraphale murmured.

"If you’re here because of the demon, I assure you, I have it under control,"
Sakaki said.

"You do?" Aziraphale blinked.

"Of course I do," Sakaki said. "Belial is completely focused
on Rikkaidai at the moment." He sniffed. "I believe she’s
only interested in tennis at the moment."

"How shortsighted of her," Aziraphale said, torn between laughter
and gibbering. Belial was on Earth? Up to something? On top of everything
else? The more he thought about it, the more attractive gibbering began to
seem. "How good to know you have things under control here."

That mollified Sakaki a bit. "Thank you."

"If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to like to observe your tennis practice
for a while. It seems to be quite the fashion lately," Aziraphale said, casually.

"As you like," Sakaki said, tilting his head towards the bleachers.

"Thank you kindly," Aziraphale said, and walked over to the bleachers.
He sat in the row up from the napping boy, and once Sakaki had turned his attention
back to his team, leaned over. "Crowley," he hissed, "wake up!
We’ve got problems."

One sleepy eye cracked open to stare at him. "What, are you trying to blow
my cover?" Crowley replied in a whisper.

"There’s no time for that," Aziraphale said, urgently.

"Like hell there’s not," Crowley retorted. "Hastur’s still out
for my blood, you know. And my rank."

"Worry about that later," Aziraphale said. He looked around. "Did
you know that Belial is active? Here on Earth?" he asked.

Crowley winced. "She doesn’t like people to use that name," he said.
"Use Mad Hatter instead."

"Whatever," Aziraphale said. "Crowley, Michael and Raphael
are down here, too, and so is the Messiah; Lucifer’s been lurking around,
and I’ve misplaced the Adversary."


"What the hell?" Shishido was staring when Choutarou came out of
the clubhouse. "Choutarou, who is that guy?"

"What?" Choutarou followed the stares of his teammates to the bleachers,
where Jirou was sitting bolt-upright, talking with his tourist. "I don’t
know. What did he do?"

"Just leaned over and started talking to him, far as I could tell,"
Mukahi said, sounding as awed as Choutarou felt.

Jirou stood, grabbing the stranger by the wrist, and turned to call over his shoulder,
"Sorry, gotta run, things to do, world to save, I’ll bring Jirou back in
time for Nationals, ‘bye!" and the two of them ran.

Kantoku was staring, eyes bugged out, and even Atobe seemed to be having difficulties
keeping his composure.

Finally, Choutarou broke the silence. "What did he mean, ‘I’ll have Jirou
back in time for Nationals’?" he asked.

Nobody could give him an answer.

Last Modified: Sep 06, 08
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Cost

Tatsumi has a minor upset. Humor, I-2

Tatsumi Seiichirou read the memo he had found in the middle of Tsuzuki’s desk.
Then he read it again. He put it down, carefully, and walked, calmly, down
the hall to Konoe’s office.

"I’m going to be gone this afternoon," he informed the department
head, and teleported out before Konoe could do more than blink.


"Tsuzuki, what are you doing here?"

Tsuzuki jumped and yelped with surprise as Tatsumi materialized behind him.
"Tatsumi-san! Don’t scare me like that!" he exclaimed, pressing
a hand to his chest.

Tatsumi’s eyes glinted, and Tsuzuki decided, with a sinking feeling, that Tatsumi
wasn’t in the mood to be distracted today. Fortunately, Hisoka had come up
with a good explanation and made Tsuzuki memorize it for just this eventuality.

"I’m just warding these mortals from any careless demonic or angelic influences,
so the book keeping doesn’t get messed up," Tsuzuki said, brightly.

"On your own time?" Tatsumi asked, with a mildness that didn’t reassure
Tsuzuki at all. "How responsible of you."

Tsuzuki nodded vigorously. "It seemed like a good thing to do. Preemptive
action, and all that." He smiled hopefully.

The set of Tatsumi’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. "I have been
tracking the development of this situation, Tsuzuki. Lately I’ve been considering
putting someone on it. It’s a bit out of your jurisdiction, but I suppose
if you and Hisoka-kun have already made a start it only makes sense to keep
you on it." He nodded, decisively. "All right. Consider yourself
assigned here. Submit your expense requests as usual."

Tsuzuki let out a breath of relief, thinking of the, really, very minor damages
to one of the dorm buildings, where Byakko had run into it while chasing
a tennis ball last week.

"Starting from today," Tatsumi finished.

Relief turned to resignation. "Yes, Tatsumi-san," Tsuzuki sighed.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 18, 05
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Mother Hen

Ooishi gets a taste of his own medicine. Humor, I-1

"Ooishi-kun!"

Shuichirou looked around, surprised. Raphael didn’t often have much to say
during practice. Well, not to the team. He seemed to find a good deal to
say to Ryuuzaki-sensei, and whatever it was made her laugh quite a lot. Shuichirou
hadn’t asked.

Now, however, Raphael was beckoning to him.

"Come here a moment, Ooishi-kun."

"Me?" They had all seen enough to be just a touch wary of Raphael’s
whims.

Ice blue eyes narrowed. "Yes, you." Raphael snorted. "What is
it with you warrior types that you never want to actually talk to a physician
before it’s a crisis? Come here," pointing to the space in
front of him, "and let me look at your wrist. You’ve been favoring it
all day."

Shuichirou cast a reflexive glance at Tezuka. Tezuka looked back, very pointedly
not wearing an expression of smug satisfaction. Shuichirou sighed.

"Coming."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 12, 05
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Family Reunion

The Messiah and the Adversary chat, and Lucifer drops in. Aziraphale and Crowley sweat. Humor with Drama, I-3

The Adversary stared at the Messiah, frowning. The Messiah stared right back,
also frowning.

"You’re not what I was expecting," Adam said, at last, feeling that
a Messiah ought to be wearing a white bathrobe, or have a halo, or somehow demonstrate
his difference from ordinary humans (perhaps funny-colored eyes?). A Messiah most
assuredly should not have looked like any other teenaged boy.

"Funny, I could say the same about you," the Messiah said, and grinned.
He stuck out his hand. "The name’s Setsuna."

"Adam." He took the proffered hand and shook it. "Nice to meet
you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you, too, I guess." Setsuna looked thoughtful. "…Wanna
go get a burger?"

"Will it have fish in it?" Adam asked, suspiciously. He’d heard things
about Japanese cuisine.

Setsuna chuckled. "No, no fish."

"Well, that’s all right, then," Adam decided.

"Great. Hold on a minute, willya? I’ll be right back." Setsuna headed
over to the two girls and the guy with the really neat tattoo, who had been watching
them from a distance. The guy was giving Adam some funny looks, but the girls
waved Setsuna off after he spoke to them. The guy just looked more puzzled than
before.

Setsuna jogged back over. "All right, just wanted to let my girlfriend know
I was going," he said. "Let’s go."


"You mean you never noticed that Mad Hatter was in Japan, too?" Aziraphale
demanded. "Or Michael? Or Raphael? Or Lucifer?"

"Oh, come off it," Crowley grumbled, trudging along after the angel.
"I was hiding, remember?" He gestured at his host’s body. "Jirou’s
pretty oblivious, okay?" He stopped short. "Wait a minute. Lucifer?
I thought he’d disappeared."

Aziraphale stopped too, and grumbled something under his breath. "Honestly,
do you even try to keep up with current events?"

"Hiding," Crowley reminded him. "A person can miss an awful lot
of gossip that way." They began walking again. "So… Lucifer?"

"Emerged about the same time as the Messiah," Aziraphale said, briefly.

"And who’s the Messiah?" Crowley prompted, when irritation seemed to
have gotten the better of Aziraphale.

"The reincarnation of Alexiel," Aziraphale said. "You really are
out of the loop these days."

"It happens when you get into the napping thing," Crowley admitted.
"So… how did you manage to lose the Antichrist?"

"He’s gotten adventurous," Aziraphale explained, with a sigh. "I
try to keep an eye on what he’s doing, but…" He shrugged. "He’s getting
good. And without someone to help…"

"Look, you deal with Hastur for me, and I’ll come back," Crowley said.
"That’s easy enough, right?"

"So easy that you’d rather hide in a teenager than do it yourself?"
Aziraphale inquired. "Never mind, we’re here."

"Fudoumine?" Crowley asked. "Why here?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "Michael will know where to find the Messiah."

Crowley paled. "Michael? …Aziraphale, he kills demons, you know."

Aziraphale smiled. "Then it’s just as well that you’ve had so much practice
pretending to be human, isn’t it?"


It was, Michael decided, shaping up to be a really weird afternoon. First Setsuna
and that kid—who looked familiar, even if he couldn’t quite place the face—and
now this.

"Lord Michael." Aziraphale was bowing, and the demon lurking behind
him pretending to be one of Hyoutei’s elitist bastards was trying to bow and be
inconspicuous all at the same time. It was pretty funny, actually.

"Yeah?" Michael had to admit, he was damn curious about what was going
on. Last he’d heard, this guy’d helped stop Armageddon, which wouldn’t normally
qualify him for an entry in Michael’s good book (He’d had his sword all sharp
and ready to go, and they called the whole thing off? Bastards.), but it did qualify
him for entry under the "Interesting People Whose Asses I Might Need To Kick"
heading. "Whaddya want?"

"I was hoping you could tell me where I might find the Messiah," Aziraphale
said, speaking in an undertone after a quick look over at Ann, who was watching
the proceedings with avid curiosity.

"Who, Setsuna? He left here a while ago with some kid," Michael said.

The demon’s head came up. "Oh, fuck," he said, obviously forgetting
that he was pretending to be inconspicuous. Michael gave him a look, and the demon
gulped. "Um. Hello?" he said, with a little wave. "You’re looking
well, Michael-sama."

"So much for that," Aziraphale muttered. "The, uh, child the Messiah
was with—"

"Who is he?" Michael asked, but if this was Aziraphale and his pet demon,
then there was really only one answer. "No way. No fucking way."

"He is," Crowley sighed.

Michael growled. "That bastard Setsuna never said a word."


"So," Setsuna said, halfway through his hamburger. "What brings
you to Tokyo?"

"Godzilla," Adam said promptly.

"…okay." Setsuna waited.

"Well, mostly Godzilla," Adam said, thoughtful. "It was a really
neat movie."

"It’s not bad," Setsuna allowed, and waited some more.

"I thought I’d come over and see if I could find Godzilla for myself."

Setsuna raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it could happen," Adam said, his tone indicating that he’d seen
stranger things happen before.

"I suppose it could," Setsuna conceded. "This is Tokyo."

"Exactly." Adam grinned. "And then, since I was over here anyway,
I thought we should meet."

"And here we are," Setsuna finished, and waited.

Adam held out for most of the rest of another hamburger before caving. "Actually,"
he said, fidgeting with the wrapper, "I was wondering…"

"Yes?" Setsuna asked.

"Um." Adam looked distinctly embarrassed. "D’you, uh, know much
about… girls?"

Setsuna grinned and sat back. "Well," he said, "I might know something."


"Well, they don’t seem to be fighting," Crowley reported, ducking back
into the alley where Aziraphale was waiting. "If anything, they’re bonding."

"Bonding," Aziraphale repeated.

Crowley shrugged. "I call them like I see them."

Aziraphale snorted, and shook his head. "The Messiah and the Adversary, bonding
over hamburgers. Perhaps this isn’t going to be a complete disaster after all—"

And then Lucifer showed up.


"So I shouldn’t be trying to impress her." Adam said.

"Nope." Setsuna shrugged. "I find that it usually doesn’t work,
and ends up making you look stupid, too."

"And I should be myself."

"Yup," Setsuna nodded.

"But still be nice and pay attention to her," Adam finished, wondering
how he was supposed to be himself and be nice, both.

"Sounds like you’ve got the idea," Setsuna said.

Adam mulled it over. "Well, I can give it a shot," he said, still harboring
some doubts, although not trying to impress Pepper—who could do a better "I’ve
seen it all, and it all bores me" than anyone he’d ever seen—sounded like
it would make his life infinitely easier. "Thanks."

"No problem—oh, crap." Setsuna dropped the french fry he’d been about
to bite into. "What’s he doing here?"

Adam sat up as the sense of that presence washed over him. "Oh, God,"
he said.

Setsuna’s grin was crooked. "Not exactly," he said, "and I wouldn’t
make that comparison to his face, if I were you." He slid out of the booth.
"C’mon, let’s go see what he wants."


Aziraphale was doing his best to merge with the wall at his back, since an out-and-out
retreat would have involved stepping past Lucifer, and he wasn’t crazy.

Beside him, Crowley exhaled softly. "It’s true. He really is back."

"You didn’t believe me?" Aziraphale snapped, all-too-conscious that
the odds were not the least bit in his favor, and wishing Michael had decided
to come along after all.

"And what have we here?" Lucifer asked, sweeping an amused gaze over
them.

"My lord." Crowley bowed, deeply. It had been a good run, at least,
Aziraphale decided.

"Crowley." Lucifer inclined his head slightly. "I trust there’s
a reason for you to be possessing that human?"

"Professional friction between Hastur and me, my lord," Crowley said,
and there was nothing but respect in his tone. Even if he hadn’t fallen so much
as sauntered downwards, this was an alarming development.

"Well, looks like quite a meeting to be having out here by the dumpsters,"
someone said cheerfully. "Didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Lucifer."

Lucifer shrugged. "I merely thought that it was high time I met my son,"
he said, mildly.


Jirou was having the most fascinating day he’d had since, well, ever, and he hadn’t
even played any tennis yet. He’d had no idea Crowley-san knew such interesting
people, and that he’d get to meet them (albeit only as a spectator).

"Your son?" the new guy said, sounding surprised. He turned to the boy
who was lurking behind him. "You never mentioned that."

"You never asked," the other boy retorted. He looked at Lucifer. "So,
you’re him, huh?"

"I am," Lucifer said. "What’s your name, boy?"

"Adam," he said, and Jirou had the oddest feeling that the boy was assessing
Lucifer, and not the other way around. "And you’re not my father."


Since he was essentially doomed anyway, even with the Messiah standing right there
(and the Messiah had helped kill God anyway, so his allegiances were questionable,
and Alexiel had a history with Lucifer), Aziraphale spoke up. "What I believe
Adam is trying to say," he said, meekly, "is that his father is the
one he grew up with, not the one biology assigned him."

"Exactly," Adam said, crossing his arms and sounding satisfied. "That’s
what I meant, only with smaller words. So I guess you came up here for nothing."

"Hardly," Lucifer said, after barely sparing a glance for Aziraphale.
"If I am given to understand the events of Armageddon correctly, you are
a formidable young man."

Adam blinked. "What, you didn’t know what happened?"

"Of course he didn’t," the Messiah said, ruffling Adam’s hair. "He
was kinda lock—"

"I was indisposed," Lucifer interrupted, firmly.

The Messiah grinned. "Whatever you wanna call it, he wasn’t around. My guess
is that the old bastard rigged it."

"Possibly," Lucifer agreed. "Beelzebub is more malleable than he
thinks."

Adam looked to Aziraphale. "Who are they talking about?"

"God," Aziraphale said.

"Old Ineffable Himself?" Crowley said. "So he does have a hand
in all this?"

"Had," Lucifer corrected him, absently. "He’s dead now."

"And good riddance, too," the Messiah muttered. Aziraphale winced a
little. Definitely no help from that quarter.

"And I missed it?" Crowley sounded outraged.

"What rock have you been hiding under?" the Messiah asked.

"A pretty big one, I’d say," Crowley said, "if I missed a deicide."

"And at no small cost to your responsibilities in hell," Lucifer added,
"or have you forgotten that the rank of duke carries duties?"

"Yes, lord. Um. I mean, no. Um—I didn’t kill Ligur for his job." Crowley
waved his hands. "Mostly I was just trying to survive."

"Indeed, and stopping Armageddon while you were at it, and consorting with
an angel." Aziraphale gulped as Lucifer made a complicated gesture, but there
was just a soft pop, and then some swearing, as Jirou and Crowley’s bodies tried
to occupy the same space and failed miserably.

Jirou scrambled to his feet. "That was so awesome!" he enthused, and
if Aziraphale hadn’t reached out and held the boy back, he might have actually
managed to seize Lucifer’s hand. "What else can you—"

Aziraphale eased the boy to the ground as he fell asleep mid-sentence (with only
a bare hint of Aziraphale’s encouragement), and the Messiah laughed at Lucifer’s
face. "He’s excitable, isn’t he?" he noted.

"Very," Crowley grunted, climbing to his feet and manifesting a suit.
"You should see him when he’s playing Atobe." He bowed to Lucifer again.
"Thank you, my lord, for the new body," he sighed. "I’ll return
to Hell immediately to see to my duties."

"Don’t," Lucifer said. "You’re being reassigned."

"I am?" Crowley looked at him blankly.

"Yes. You will be serving as bodyguard to my—to Adam," Lucifer said.
"Do try not to lose him again."

Adam protested. "I don’t need a bodyguard!"

"Of course you do," the Messiah said. "You’ve already got one."
He nodded at Aziraphale.

"What, really?" Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale.

"Not officially. Officially, I’m watching him," Aziraphale admitted,
shifting under the weight of Lucifer’s gaze. "But unofficially… I’m watching
over him."

"And I’m certain Crowley will be a great deal of help to you," Lucifer
said.

"I don’t want bodyguards!"

"Tough," Crowley said, sidling around Lucifer and snapping a pair of
sunglasses into existence. He perched them on his nose. "Because there is
no way I’m disobeying a direct order from him."

"This isn’t fair," Adam grumbled, leveling a glare at them all. He looked
at the Messiah. "Do you have a bodyguard?" he demanded.

"Nope, but then, I’m in control of my own powers," the Messiah said
cheerfully, "and that tends to deter most would-be assassins."

"Besides, life doesn’t tend to be fair, or so I’ve noticed," Aziraphale
murmured, deciding that perhaps he was going to live after all. He placed his
hands on his hips. "And do you have any idea how worried I was when you disappeared?"

"Had things to do," Adam mumbled. He waved a hand. "People to see."

"And it never occurred to you that it might be dangerous to traipse across
the globe to meet the Messiah, who by definition has every right to try to kill
you on sight?" Crowley asked. Adam shook his head, sullenly. "Damn.
You don’t need bodyguards. You need babysitters."

Aziraphale stared as Lucifer began to chuckle, and even the Messiah looked impressed.
"I’ve chosen well, I think," Lucifer murmured, finally.

"They’ll do," the Messiah agreed, and then he checked his watch. "Crap,
it’s getting late. I’ve got to get going. Nice meeting you, Adam."

"Yeah, you too," Adam said.

The Messiah looked at Lucifer. "Will we be seeing you at Nationals?"
he asked.

"I wouldn’t dream of missing it," Lucifer said.

"Thought so," the Messiah said. "Remember what I told you, Adam.
See you around." He waved and headed off.

"Should the Messiah be giving advice to the Antichrist?" Crowley asked
Aziraphale.

"Are you going to be the one to stop him," Aziraphale asked.

"Well… no."

"Then the Messiah can give the Antichrist all the advice he wants,"
Aziraphale said. "It’s up to Adam whether he takes it."

"Gentlemen," Lucifer said, politely. "If I may have a word with
Adam?"

Adam glared. "Don’t wanna talk to you," he grumbled.

"You don’t have a choice," Crowley said, as Aziraphale woke Jirou up
and dragged him out of the alley. "We’ll just be out there," he said,
and followed Aziraphale.

"So… you must be Aziraphale," Jirou said, apparently perfectly at
ease with his narcoleptic fit.

"Yes," Aziraphale said.

"So you’re an angel like Kantoku?" Jirou pursued.

"I should hope," Aziraphale said, slowly, "that I’m not very much
like Sakaki at all."

"Fair enough," Jirou said. He looked back into the alley. "So that’s
really the devil?"

"And the Antichrist," Crowley said, helpfully.

"He’s really cool," Jirou said, eyes shining.

"A lot of people think so," Aziraphale grumbled.

"A lot of people are right," Crowley said sharply.

"Hmph." Aziraphale shut up.


Adam crossed his arms and sulked against an alley wall. "Well?"

At least, Lucifer decided, he could be grateful that he’d had experience dealing
with prickly teenagers. "Why not destroy the world?" he asked.

"Because I like it," Adam said, with an eye roll for emphasis.

"And why not rule it for yourself?"

Adam frowned. "Too much work, for one thing." He shrugged. "Sure,
I could rule it myself and fix everything, but then people would be coming to
me all the time and asking me to fix stuff for them. It’s better that they learn
to fix things themselves."

Lucifer nodded. "Very good," he said.

Adam rolled his eyes. "My turn for a question," he said. "Are you
really my father?"

"That’s what they tell me," Lucifer said, frowning. "I wasn’t exactly
consulted beforehand."

Adam’s eyebrows went up. "Then how…?" He flushed.

"Demon magic and a laboratory, I believe." Lucifer looked him in the
eye. "It was a shock to return home to find I’d been gifted a son in my absence."

Adam frowned. "Then who was it who nearly showed up back then?"

"One of the higher-ranking demon lords," Lucifer said. He examined his
nails. "He has since been relieved of his duties."

"Good," Adam said. He made a face. "You aren’t really going to
make me put up with them, are you?" he said, jerking his head in Crowley
and Aziraphale’s direction.


"So… I guess this means you’re leaving, huh?" Jirou asked, when it
seemed like neither Crowley-san nor Aziraphale-san was going to speak.

"Yeah. Duty calls, and all that." Crowley-san waved a hand. "Kid
belongs in England."

"That means you’ll miss Nationals, though!" Jirou protested, horrified.

"Uh… yeah, I guess I will," Crowley-san said, looking uncomfortable.
"Hyoutei’s sure to win, though," he added.

"But don’t the other schools have angels? Or demons?" Jirou asked.

Crowley-san blinked. "Oh, no," he said, firmly. "No chance. Your
coach does not want my help, trust me… though he might not turn down Aziraphale."

"Absolutely not," Aziraphale-san said, and sniffed. "I can’t work
with him."

Jirou didn’t really see a problem, but since one apparently existed, he went back
to a less touchy subject. "You really think we’ll be okay on our own?"

Crowley-san grinned. "You’ll be fine. There’s more to Hyoutei than meets
the eye. Promise."

"I still wish you were going to be there for Nationals," Jirou said,
a trifle wistfully.

Crowley-san coughed. "Well, um. Oh, looks like they’re done," he said,
quickly, as Adam-kun slouched out of the alley, followed by the devil.

"Gracefully done," Aziraphale-san murmured.

"Oh, shut up."

"Gentlemen," the devil said, "I believe I’ll leave things in your—"
and Jirou wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard an infinitesimal pause there "—capable
hands."

"Yes, lord," Crowley said, and bowed.

"Still don’t think this is fair," Adam-kun muttered.

"Duly noted," the devil said, sounding the faintest bit exasperated,
and vanished.

"Cooooooooool," Jirou sighed.


The boy spent the entire trip back to Hyoutei expounding upon the wonders of tennis
to the Adversary, and if Aziraphale wasn’t mistaken, there were a lot of tennis
courts pending in his near future—assuming, of course, that Adam didn’t just
bounce on to a new interest once they were safely home again. Judging from the
way Adam was hanging onto every word Jirou had to say (currently, something about
a player who could make the tennis ball roll along the net, which surely wasn’t
possible, right?) though, it looked like tennis could hold his attention for at
least a week.

At least tennis was wholesome.

"Looks like we’re even returning him before the end of practice," Crowley
said, with some satisfaction, as they strolled into sight of Hyoutei’s tennis
courts. "So, is it as much fun for you as it is for me to see Sakaki this
baffled?"

"Well…" Aziraphale paused, "one does wonder how he managed to
last so long without being demoted."

Crowley snickered, and waved to Hyoutei’s coach. "See, here he is, safe and
sound! World didn’t need saving after all!"

"For a change," Aziraphale added, under his breath. "Adam! Time
to go."


Adam-kun made a face at Aziraphale-san. "This completely sucks," he
complained to Jirou.

"It does," Jirou sympathized. "You really have to talk them into
letting you come back for Nationals. I mean, if the devil is going to show up,
you should too, right?"

Adam-kun considered it. "Practically a family obligation, when you look at
it that way," he said. He grinned.

"Adam!"

He rolled his eyes. "I’ll see what I can do," he said, with a grin.
"Nice meeting you, Jirou."

"You too. See you around." Jirou waved him off, and turned to find his
teammates eyeing him curiously. "So, did I miss anything while I was gone?"

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 06, 05
Name (optional):
2 readers sent Plaudits.

Better

Watari takes advantage of the situation. Humor, I-1

The Juuohcho employees frantically threw themselves out of the way as a blond
shinigami in lab coat stormed down the corridor, muttering a litany of "funds"
and "cut down," with intermittent "Tatsumi," and numerous
repetitions of "kill." The look on the man’s face was enough to
send even Terazuma scurrying for cover.

Watari Yutaka was not a happy man today.

Konoe jumped when the door slammed open and Watari stomped inside. "Where
is Tatsumi?" Watari demanded, and Konoe gulped when Watari’s smoldering gaze
focused on him.

"He left a few minutes ago," Konoe managed to squeak out and Watari
narrowed his eyes; there was only one reason why the workaholic would not be at
his desk during the office hours: a Tsuzuki-related accident. Watari stalked to
Tsuzuki’s desk and examined the mess for clues, until a memo on top of the file
caught his eyes. The slight frown of concentration changed to a look of understanding,
then that of fierce determination, and the next moment, he was gone from the office.
Konoe breathed a sigh of relief. They really weren’t paying him enough for this
job.

Once in Tokyo, it was easy enough to find Tsuzuki — all one had to do was follow
the explosions, really — and by the same route, Tatsumi, currently talking to
Tsuzuki. Watari stopped to compose himself. It would not do to lose his momentum
now. He had a mission to accomplish here! Taking a deep breath, Watari opened
his mouth to call out, and stopped.

"I’m just warding these mortals from any careless demonic or angelic influences,
so the book keeping doesn’t get messed up," Tsuzuki was saying. Watari closed
his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

"On your own time?" Tatsumi asked, and Watari hid a snicker. His thoughts
exactly.

"It seemed like a good thing to do. Preemptive action, and all that,"
Tsuzuki explained, and Watari frowned, wondering why he hadn’t heard anything
about this before (though admittedly he had been rather distracted lately, what
with the breakthrough in his potions research…). Watari pursed his lips, the
gears turning in his head. Now, he was sure there was some way he could use this
situation, once he found out more about what was actually going on.

Very quietly, Watari backed up and teleported to the Juuohcho library, grabbing
both Gushoshin on his way and locking the door. Some time later, Watari emerged
from the library with an unholy gleam in his eyes, and strode down the corridor
back to his lab. For the second time in the same day, the Juuohcho employees frantically
scrambled out of Watari’s way, fearing for their afterlife.

Three days later…

"Watari-san, are you sure this isn’t against the rules?" Wakaba asked,
nervously looking around to make sure no one was watching.

Watari gestured her closer, smiling widely. "Of course! Now, Wakaba-chan,
I have a special today for my favorite girl."

Against her better judgment, Wakaba drew closer, and peered. Half an hour later,
Wakaba carefully snuck out of the lab, flushed and smiling. She couldn’t wait
to talk to Hajime-chan about this!

Back in the lab, Watari, in his intense concentration, did not notice a presence
looming behind him until his shadow began to tremble.

"Watari-san."

Watari, recognizing the voice, promptly whirled around to face him. "Tatsumi.
Hi."

"Good afternoon. Might I ask what you are doing here?" Tatsumi’s voice
was pleasantly icy, and Watari swallowed. Ah well, the cat was out of the bag
and all. Watari gave him a sunny smile.

"Writing down all the bets. Do you want to place one?"

Tatsumi was silent for a while. "That," Tatsumi said finally, "is
definitely against the office protocol."

"But not against the rules," Watari said winningly. "I checked."

"Watari-san."

"I’ll give you a sure winner," Watari said brightly. Seeing Tatsumi’s
cool glare, Watari tried again. "Okay, wanna split the profit 70-30?"

"50-50," Tatsumi said coolly, pushing up his glasses.

"60-40," Watari countered, not giving an inch.

"Deal." Tatsumi shook Watari’s hand once, firmly. "Now that’s been
settled, we have a meeting in five minutes."

"Sure, just give me a minute," Watari said distractedly as he put away
the white board.

"Could I ask why?" Tatsumi asked curiously as they walked out of the
lab. Watari shrugged, locking the door.

"I need more funds for my research."

Note: "Better" is the accepted alternate spelling for "bettor."

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Saintly

Raphael earns the gratitude of Seigaku. Humor, I-1

Character(s): Horio Satoshi, Raphael

Just being an angel didn’t qualify Raphael as a particularly nice person. In fact,
he’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t even a particularly good person. He
was a philanderer—all right, a recently reformed philanderer—and vain, self-centered,
and arrogant to boot. It wasn’t his style to go out of his way for anyone or anything
without some sort of compensation in the offing.

But as far as the Seigaku Regulars were concerned, Raphael was a saint, despite
his many flaws.

It wasn’t because he’d healed Tezuka’s shoulder, or Oishi’s wrist, or assured
Momo that, indeed, his ankle was just fine so-stop-pestering-me-damn-it. It wasn’t
because he’d given Inui advice about training schedules, or that he could make
a homework migraine vanish with a glance.

It was what he didn’t do that qualified him for canonization in their eyes.

Horio waved his banner. I’ve had laryngitis for weeks! it
read. Do something!

Raphael ignored him, and indeed, peace reigned upon the Seigaku tennis courts.

Last Modified: Jan 06, 05
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Balance

Eriol visits Hyoutei and makes Atobe an offer. Humor, I-1

Hiyoshi noticed the stranger first, and decided that he’d regret it for
the rest of his life. This was especially true since the last time a stranger
had appeared on the courts, Jirou had run off with him and there had been
some business about an antichrist, the explanation for which Hiyoshi was
determined to ignore.

The stranger seemed to hover innocently by the side of the courts, but it wasn’t
a hovering Hiyoshi was used to. Fans came and watched Atobe or, occasionally,
one of the others with rapt attention. Scouts came and watched with a measuring
sort of concentration. While the man did seem to be weighing Atobe as the boy
played a rare game with Oshitari, Hiyoshi thought that there seemed to be too
much of an edge of amusement for a scout.

Hiyoshi marched over to the interloper. “Can I help you?” he asked
politely.

The interloper eyed Hiyoshi for a moment, then smiled a bright, unnerving smile.
Hiyoshi backed up a step before he could stop himself, even as the man said, “Oh,
I’m sorry. I’m here to talk with your captain…that boy playing,
correct?” He inclined his head towards Atobe.

Hiyoshi nodded reluctantly. “You’ll have to wait until the set is
over.”

The man strolled over to settle himself on the bleachers. “Then you can
come and talk with me.” He patted the seat beside him.

Hiyoshi settled there uncertainly, painfully conscious of the fact that it would
be rude to leave an elder alone, particularly one who seemed to have business
with his captain. “Talk with you?”

The man smiled brightly. “Oh, yes, of course. You see, I think that you’re
a very observant boy and can therefore answer some of the more pressing questions,
like whether you noticed that your coach is an angel, or that one of your fellow
students is possessed.”

“…well…everyone found out just recently,” Hiyoshi said.
“The person inside Jirou ran off with him.” Hiyoshi twitched at the
sudden gleam of interest in the man’s eyes, and had to suppress another
twitch as the man very deliberately set the interest aside to continue.

“I expect, though, your being brought up in a proper home as you were, you
noticed something beforehand,” the man went on blithely. “Now, I understand
your not coming to me over it, but I still find it terribly disappointing.”

Hiyoshi scowled and eyed the man. “I…you…”

“Exactly,” the man replied. “But I forgive you.” Hiyoshi
listened, more or less, for a few more minutes as the man went on. He was lost
enough, in fact, that he didn’t notice when Atobe came over to glare at
them.

“Excuse me, but I’m afraid we don’t allow visitors during practice,”
Atobe interjected. The man looked up at Atobe with an expression of polite disinterest
that Hiyoshi recalled from Atobe’s own repertoire.

“Of course,” the man said. “You know, I thought you’d
be more entertaining.”

Atobe hmphed and lounged against the air. “I’m eminently entertaining
at all times.”

Hiyoshi felt a spike of terror go through him as the man’s look turned thoughtful.
“Of course, Atobe-kun,” the man said smoothly. The man’s smile
was the brightest Hiyoshi had seen him give yet. “I have a modest proposal
for you.”

Atobe straightened to give the man a hard look. “I especially cannot tolerate
scouts interrupting practice,” he said coolly. “While I sincerely
appreciate your interest and will be willing to talk to you should you come at
another time, my first responsibility is to ensure the well-being of my team,
which means that practice should not be interrupted.”

“Of course, Keigo-san,” the man replied, rising. “I only intended
to offer my assistance in this rather confusing times. I could prevent incidents
like, say, the one that occurred with Akutagawa-kun, but I understand if you’d
rather take the risks that you’ll be facing in the Nationals on your own
power. I certainly admire it.” The man turned to walk away.

“…wait.” Atobe stared hard at the man, and Hiyoshi noted that
his captain’s mouth turned down in a rather sour frown usually associated
with Jirou running off the court to tell Atobe something interesting. “What
risks are you talking about?”

The man waved expansively. “Oh, Archangels backing up Fudoumine and Seishun
Gakuen, and a high level demon adopting Rikkai. You’ll be pleased to know
that Seigaku’s archangel has taken care of ’Mitsu-kun. That’s
Tezuka Kunimitsu.”

Hiyoshi noted that Shishido, who had just walked over with Ohtori, looked as if
he wished he had a camera to catch the appalled look on their captain’s
face. Atobe’s mouth worked silently for a moment before he said, “Do
you know him, then?”

“’mitsu-kun?” the man said. “Of course I know him. He sent me
out of concern that the matches would be unbalanced with the support you have.
Kunimitsu is very concerned with fairness, as I’m sure you know.”
The man returned Atobe’s suspicious look with unbelievable innocence. “In
any case, should you wish for my assistance, you’ll find my card behind
the photograph by your bedside.”

“You’ve been in my room?” Atobe asked, frowning. “You
shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

The man nodded. “I wasn’t able to get in, Keigo. And if you don’t
wish to contact me, my card will not be there. It will only be there if you do
wish to contact me.” The man turned again to walk away.

“What’s your name?” Shishido asked him, as Atobe didn’t
seem inclined to speak to the man again. The man smiled sunnily at Shishido and
inclined his head to him.

“Hiiragizawa Eriol, at your service.” With that, the man disappeared
in a cloud of cherry blossoms. Shishido dashed over to where Eriol had been standing
and looked around, but Hiyoshi was already turning back to Atobe, who suddenly
looked thoughtful.

“Hiiragizawa,” Atobe murmured.

Last Modified: Jan 06, 05
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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History Lesson

Belial talks to Rikkai about the past. Drama, I-3

"So?" Renji asked, as Genichirou and Seiichi returned to the courts.
"How did the drawing go?"

"We’re on the same side of the chart as Seigaku," Seiichi answered
with a small smile.

Renji chuckled. "Well, then."

Genichirou made a disgruntled sound. "Tezuka cornered me to ask if we
were sure we knew what we were doing, getting mixed up with a demon, especially
this one." He glanced at Hatter. "I can’t imagine how you got such
a reputation."

"No, you probably can’t," Hatter murmured, looking away. Renji sighed.
She’d been in a distant and cryptic mood all day.

Seiichi frowned and touched her shoulder. "Belial?"

"One is not kind," she said, very precisely, without looking around.
"Nor benign. One has corrupted lives and souls and cities. Most recently,
one provoked the Host to attack an ally and caused the destruction of Kurai’s
kingdom and people. One led Kurai herself into a marriage that would have
sacrificed her life, by lying to her at nearly every turn. You should remember
this."

Seiichi was silent for a long moment. "There must be some reason Kurai-san
has forgiven you."

"She is a queen and a demon," Hatter answered, coolly. "She
understands expedience." Her hands were clasped hard enough to whiten
the knuckles, Renji noted. "Our lord was gone," Hatter added, far
more quietly. "One did what was necessary to preserve Hell. Whatever
was necessary"

Renji was not entirely surprised to see Genichirou pause, arrested.

"Yes," Genichirou said, at last. Hatter glanced at him. "I understand.
We won’t forget."

Hatter looked at him, head to one side. Finally she nodded.

Genichirou crossed his arms. "Watching tennis isn’t about to calm you
down, today, is it? Come on." He turned away and then looked back over
his shoulder. "Live blades, if you want."

For the first time that day, Hatter smiled.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 12, 05
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Worth

Tezuka sets up ranking blocks. Angst, I-4

Character(s): Raphael, Tezuka Kunimitsu

"Headache, Tezuka-kun?" Raphael asked, leaning against one of the empty
desks.

Kunimitsu took his hand from his forehead. "I’m fine," he said, and
that was true, but not likely to deter Raphael’s bored curiosity.

"And here I thought there wasn’t the homework assignment invented that you
couldn’t master," the angel said.

"It’s not homework," Kunimitsu said, and because today was not a good
day, he simply slid the stack of papers towards Raphael, who picked them up after
a moment.

"Lovely penmanship," Raphael noted, which was a reminder Kunimitsu didn’t
particularly need to write out a clean copy for Ryuuzaki-sensei. He handed the
papers back. "What is it?"

Heartbreak, he wanted to say. Disappointment. Exclusion. The last time I have
to decide who stays and who goes—until the next time I have to decide. "The
assignments for the ranking matches."

Kunimitsu took out a fresh sheet of paper and began transcribing the names again,
this time without the cross-outs and scribbling. "Hardly seems worth a headache,"
Raphael said, examining his nails.

Kunimitsu put his pen down. "Raphael-san." When the angel was looking
at him, Kunimitsu spoke carefully. "There are only eight slots for Regulars."

"And a slot for the captain, of course," Raphael said.

"No. Including the captain." Kunimitsu began writing again, filling
in the names for the A Block. His name. Fuji’s. Arai’s. Yoshimura’s. Kuwahara’s.

"I see. Perhaps worth the headache after all." Raphael at least had
the decency to sound respectful of a difficult decision. "Still. It seems
odd to eliminate one of your best players purely for the sake of numbers."

"Are you suggesting I make an exception?" B Block: Oishi. Kawamura.
Ikeda. Nishi. Mikami. Fushimi.

"Of course not," Raphael said. "It’s not like you would listen."

"It would be easy," Kunimitsu said. "Seigaku gives its captains
the power to make these decisions. I could do it." C Block: Kikumaru. Inui.
Nagayama. Saeki. Hiratsuka. Nakahama.

"But you won’t." He could feel Raphael eyeing him. "Why not?"

"Seigaku’s strength lies in the monthly ranking matches." D Block: Echizen.
Momoshiro. Kaidoh. Ninose. Kashiwa. Ogawa. "While I am captain, no one who
wears that jersey will ever need to wonder whether he earned the right to wear
the jersey."

"I’ve heard," Raphael murmured, "that before this year, freshmen
weren’t allowed to compete for a position on the Regulars."

"That’s true," Kunimitsu said, evenly. "Before this year, they
were not." Raphael’s eyebrows drifted up. "Before this year, there wasn’t
a freshman skilled enough to be worth ranking against his sempai."

"There wasn’t?" Raphael smirked. "Sumire-chan tells me stories,
you know."

"Ryuuzaki-sensei has been a coach for years. I’m sure she knows many stories,"
he said.

"Indeed she does." Raphael stood. "A good leader, Tezuka-kun, knows
when to break his rules, and when to follow them." He paused, probably waiting
to be asked whether he thought Kunimitsu was a good leader. When Kunimitsu didn’t
ask, Raphael sighed, expression wry. "You’re one of the good ones,"
he said. "For what it’s worth."

Kunimitsu inclined his head. "For what it’s worth," he said, "thank
you." He stood as well, and went to deliver the paperwork for the ranking
matches to Ryuuzaki-sensei.

Last Modified: Jan 06, 05
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Willing

Sakaki gets what he wants. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Atobe Keigo, Sakaki Tarou

It was not, Tarou reflected, unusual for Keigo to sit in the window when he
and his coach were discussing the tennis club. Tarou gave him that much latitude,
because Atobe Keigo’s willing obedience was a valuable thing. Normally, however,
he paid proper attention, no matter how he lounged.

Today he was looking out the window.

"Sensei."

Tarou arched a brow. An unusual day, indeed; Keigo didn’t often call him that
anymore.

Keigo leaned his head back against the casement with a faint thump. "Is
all this really… real?" he asked.

Ah. So that was it.

"Yukimura selling his soul to a demon," Keigo continued, tone almost
dreamy. "Tachibana practically adopting an angel. Tezuka attaching another
one. Not to mention that… person he foisted on us. And Jirou…"

Tarou sighed. He really should have expected it. Keigo was a dyed-in-the-wool
empiricist. And Hiiragizawa was hardly the sort of person to reassure an
empiricist; even when he showed his magic openly, the form of it was far
too easily attributable to hallucination. Fortunately, Tarou had an answer
for the problem. "Atobe, come away from the window," he ordered,
rising from his desk.

Keigo blinked, but slid down readily enough.

Tarou unfolded his wings. Keigo’s eyes widened and he swallowed a bit hard.
Tarou shrugged and swept his wings forward.

"You can touch them. Carefully." He needn’t have specified. Keigo
barely touched his fingertips to the leading edge before he drew back to
regain his composure. Tarou had faith in his protege’s self control, when
he chose to exercise it, and left Keigo to it, refolding his wings and seating
himself again. "Jirou does not seem to have been possessed as such,"
he supplied when Keigo had regained some color and was looking him full in
the face again. "Rather, Crowley seems to be hiding in his consciousness.
The snake has always been good at hiding."

Keigo took a deep breath and let it out, perching on one of the office chairs.
"Is this going to interfere with the games?"

Tarou almost smiled. When Keigo thought something was important, he could be
relied on to swing back to it like a compass needle. It was one of the traits
that had first recommended him to Tarou’s attention, even as a child. "I
doubt it. Not," he added, "that the others wouldn’t do it. But
the players themselves would protest. Wouldn’t they?" He gave Keigo
a significant look.

Keigo’s chin came up. "Of course."

"Well, then." Tarou folded his hands, examining Keigo. "I hadn’t
intended to mention this until you were older, but I’ve been planning to
offer you something similar."

He waited for Keigo to decide how to take that.

"Like… a contract?" Keigo asked, slowly. Tarou was pleased, though
not surprised, that he seemed wary of the idea.

"Bonds between angels and humans are rarely that structured," he
noted. "Your word and mine are sufficient."

"Why?"

A good response. Perhaps, one day, he would actually teach Keigo to curb his
impulsiveness on the court, too, Tarou reflected. It wasn’t as if the boy
couldn’t think things through when he wanted to. "When the factions
of Heaven come into conflict," he explained, "a strong will is
the most valuable weapon anyone can have. Rociel demonstrated that conclusively,
as did the Messiah in opposition to him. And while the management, as Mad
Hatter puts it, has changed, the nature of angels hasn’t. Any more than the
nature of humans."

"I see."

And he might very well see. Tarou hadn’t chosen this human for nothing. "Think
about it," he directed.

"I will," Keigo said, quietly.


When, not too long after, Keigo came to him with intent burning in his eyes,
Tarou was hard pressed not to smile smugly.

Two Great Angels, three if you counted Gabriel, plus that interfering Principality,
on Assiah, and he’d gotten his human first.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 21, 05
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Over the Bone

Sanada and Belial spar a bit, verbally and otherwise. Drama, I-3

Genichirou had known it was dangerous to invite Hatter to spar with edged weapons.
He had, however, been confident that Hatter wouldn’t kill him, or even significantly
damage him. He didn’t normally like the idea of handicaps, but in the case
of a demon he’d take it.

He was coming to the irritated realization that, even restraining himself,
Hatter was fast enough to touch him.

After the third sting, he abandoned any thought of drawing Hatter out and lunged
at full speed, hoping to at least gain a little maneuvering room. There was
a sharp blow against the back of his ankle, and the next thing he knew Genichirou
was staring at the ceiling with Hatter leaning over him.

Grinning.

Genichirou glared, trying to calm his breathing.

"Thank you, Sanada-kun, that was delightful," Hatter purred.

Genichirou opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He was not rising to
the bait this time. Hatter took his wrist and lifted his arm to examine the
shallow slice along it.

"One is actually moderately impressed," he added. "One didn’t
think you would be able to avoid so many of these." He laughed at Genichirou’s
skeptical look. "It’s true. Actually," a more considering expression,
"one hadn’t intended to cut quite so deeply." Hatter bent his head
to Genichirou’s arm and licked the blood from his skin.

Genichirou stopped breathing entirely.

It wasn’t Hatter toying with him that alarmed him; he’d had time to get used
to that. It was the shiver that the gesture dragged through him. When Hatter
knelt over his hips and leaned down to the cut across his chest, Genichirou
shuddered under the warm touch. His thoughts scattered, even as he tried
to come to grips with Hatter’s action, and his own reaction.

When Hatter’s tongue moved over the cut on his collar bone, when Hatter’s lips
closed over it to suck gently, Genichirou finally grabbed Hatter’s shoulders
and pushed him away.

"Hatter," he gasped, "stop!"

Hatter’s eyes were dazed for a moment before their usual mocking light returned.
"Of course," he murmured and stood. After a moment, Genichirou
accepted the hand Hatter held out to help him up.

"Don’t tell me demons get drunk on blood or something weird like that,"
Genichirou said, suspiciously.

Hatter laughed. "Not exactly. Though blood can be a carrier for some…
intoxicating things." He traced two fingers to either side of the cut
on Genichirou’s collar bone. "That will leave a mark."

Genichirou gave him a disgruntled look. "That’s something you like doing,
isn’t it?" he asked, a bit snidely.

"Only sometimes." Hatter stepped back against the wall and faded
into the shadows. Genichirou snorted, and started to collect his things.

It wasn’t until much later that evening that he noticed the two shallower cuts
were completely healed.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 16, 05
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Compassion

Mizuki has to deal with Tsuzuki’s unexpected perception. Drama, I-3

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Tsuzuki said, nibbling one fingernail
in concentration.

Hajime tried not to laugh at the rather cute picture the man made.

"Because St. Rudolph isn’t participating in the tournaments any more,
all the third years are supposed to retire from the team and pay attention
to studying for exams."

Hajime nodded agreeably.

"And you and Akazawa-kun are not doing this because you feel like you
have an obligation to be good examples to Fuji-kun for as long as you really
should have been able to had fate not conspired against you in inexplicable
ways," Tsuzuki recited more or less verbatim from Hajime’s explanations.

"That’s right." Hajime crossed an ankle over his knee, watching Yuuta
practicing doubles with Kaneda. Kaneda’s natural flair for it just about
made up for Yuuta’s stubbornness.

"And how is breaking the rules a good example to him?"

Hajime snorted. Tsuzuki had a talent for asking questions like that while sounding
honestly curious. "Knowing when to abide by the rules and when to bend
them is a valuable lesson," he noted. "Not that Yuuta-kun hasn’t
learned it very well already," he added, casting a look of possessive
pride on the new team captain.

Tsuzuki gave him a cheerful smile. "For someone who hates surprises as
much as you do, Mizuki-kun, you have an odd taste for unpredictable people."

Clearly, Tsuzuki had heard the whole story of St. Rudolph’s matches against
Seigaku, and Yuuta’s insubordination. Hajime leaned back on the bench, brows
raised. "I like a challenge as much as the next person, Tsuzuki-san,"
he murmured.

Tsuzuki directed his smile out over the courts. "Why tennis?" he
asked after a minute.

Hajime was genuinely surprised, now. "What do you mean?"

Tsuzuki blinked at him innocently. "Well, I would have expected you to
chose debate or something like that. Politics, perhaps. It seems a lot closer
to what you actually like doing."

Hajime looked away, reminded sharply of Tsuzuki’s disconcerting perceptiveness.
"Where’s the fun in meeting people head-on, when they know where you’re
coming from?" he asked, lightly.

Tsuzuki’s voice gentled, and he rested a steady hand on Hajime’s shoulder.
"Just because you change your mind that doesn’t mean your life is out
of control, Mizuki-kun. You can always choose again, if your first choice
isn’t what you hoped for."

That cut too close to the bone. "Which is, of course, why you stay in
your current occupation when you dislike it so much," Hajime shot back.

"That’s because he’s a masochist," Kurosaki said, briskly, from behind
them. "Tsuzuki," he added, as if Hajime wasn’t there, "you
have a call from Watari-san."

Tsuzuki winced, suddenly looking far less piercing and far more hangdog. "I’m
on assignment, he can’t test anything on me while I’m on assignment,"
he muttered, sounding more forlorn than hopeful. He reached for the phone,
and paused, glancing back and forth between the distinctly cool look Kurosaki
was giving Hajime and Hajime’s amused smile.

Hajime folded his hands ostentatiously. "A challenge, I said, Tsuzuki-san,"
he repeated, smoothly.

The suppressed laugh in Tsuzuki’s eyes said he understood the implied comment
on Kurosaki’s straightforward nature. Tsuzuki’s hand brushed over Hajime’s
hair as he stood. "Trust yourself. You don’t need to control everything
to win," he said, softly.

Hajime bit his lip, trying not to react to the sudden shiver of warmth in his
chest. He heard Kurosaki sigh as Tsuzuki took the phone and they moved away.

"I swear, you’d pick up every stray we met if I let you…"

Hajime settled comfortably into his irritation at the insult. It was much easier
than dwelling on the ache of Tsuzuki’s unexpected sympathy.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 29, 05
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The Dotted Line

"Absolutely no interfering in the games in any way, shape or form, or
the whole deal’s off," Sanada declared, firmly.

Belial leaned hir chin in hir hand. "Doesn’t that conflict with the clause
about injury-proofing, though?"

"Injury repair, not prevention, Hatter," Yanagi put in. "I have
to agree on this; what happens on the court happens. The aftermath is the
only place we can, in conscience, accept your help."

"One doesn’t believe one has ever contracted with anyone particularly
worried about conscience before," Belial observed. "It makes things
far more complicated. Are you sure you can’t do without it?"

"Belial." Seiichi’s hands fell on hir shoulders. "Don’t think
I’m going to let you pretend like that while you’re negotiating with my team."
He paused, hands tightening. "For everyone’s sake."

Belial declined to answer directly and heaved a put-upon sigh. "Fine,
fine. What’s next, then?"

"I don’t suppose we could do a kind of floating assistance clause?"
Masaharu asked with a dreamy look. "A monthly mayhem quota? We could
collaborate."

"No!" Sanada, Jackal and Seiichi said at the same time.

Belial laughed. "Why don’t we keep that a personal matter between friends?"
se suggested, patting Masaharu’s hand.

"Demons have friends?" Kirihara asked. He twisted around in his chair,
crossing and uncrossing his arms.

Belial eyed his fidgeting. "Yes they do. Sometimes. And, in answer to
your real question, when it happens it supercedes all sorts of contracts,
including any previous allegiance of your theoretical possessor. You’re Seiichi’s
first and one’s own second, and, believe one, that will protect you from
anyone else."

Kirihara snorted, trying not to look reassured. "So what happens with
this," he jerked his chin at the contract, "when we play against
each other?" His eyes fixed on Seiichi and Sanada.

"Another good argument for Hatter-san to stay out of it on the court itself,"
Jackal said, reasonably. "And you have to admit, Akaya, it will be a
relief to have this kind of support. If we don’t have to spend all our time
worrying about getting a sponsor, or washing out from some stupid little
injury, we can concentrate on playing our best. Against anyone."

Belial smiled fondly on Jackal. He was the serious type who was normally exasperated
by hir, but they could appreciate each other’s practicality.

"As if I would need help," Marui put in blowing a complacent bubble.

Belial raised hir brows. "Might one ask why you’re taking part in these
negotiations, then?" Se actually was rather curious. Marui and Jackal
were the two se had least expected to agree, and while se had a better understanding
of Jackal’s motives, by now, Marui’s were still rather a mystery.

Marui shrugged. "It’s the team. The team, you understand? I think
this is the only time we’ll ever find anything this close. This important.
I don’t like the thought of leaving that behind."

Belial was silent as the eight mortals smiled or stilled or reached out to
one another, each according to his way. Se fought down a shiver as Seiichi
turned his eyes on hir, folding hir into that closeness as well.

"Very well. If that’s everything, then I’ll be around later to seal the
contract with each individual." Se ignored the sudden quirk of Seiichi’s
lips as he gathered his people up and herded them out.

"I’m impressed you came up with such a detailed document, Yanagi,"
Yagyuu mentioned, as the team left. "It covered some contingencies I
hadn’t thought of."

"Oh, it’s based on a standard manager’s contract," Yanagi said, as
the door closed.

Belial leaned back in hir chair and laughed. Eternity was looking more interesting
every day.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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Sealed With A Kiss

Seiichi remembered when Belial had set the seal of their contract.

Marui leaned back against the sheets.

Masaharu gazed up into blue eyes that burned in the darkness.

Akaya bit his lip as Hatter’s fingers brushed over his cheek.

Hiroshi was silent as Hatter delicately moved his shirt aside.

Renji gasped at the coolness of Hatter’s hands sliding cloth down from his
hip.

Jackal took a deep breath at Hatter’s teasing whisper to relax.

Genichirou bit back a moan at the burning heat of lips against his skin.

And it was done.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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The Morning After

Yagyuu fell in step with Masaharu’s slouch to school without saying a word; they
walked for five minutes before Masaharu spoke. "So," he said. "That
sealing thing."

"It wasn’t what I was expecting," Yagyuu said, and anyone who didn’t
know him wouldn’t have recognized that tone for what it was.

Masaharu stretched. "Wild," he said, and prodded Yagyuu. "So, where’s
yours?"

Yagyuu gestured, discreetly, towards his hip. "Yours?"

"The same," Masaharu said. "I wonder if that means something?"

"It involves Hatter," Yagyuu said, after a moment, "and you have
to ask?"


"Good grief, Niou, I know I’m good-looking, but didn’t your mother ever teach
you it’s not polite to stare?" Marui demanded, catching Niou staring again.
"You’re creeping me out."

"That’s because Niou-sempai is, by nature, a creep," Kirihara declared,
and dodged the swipe aimed at his head. "Although he is being creepier than
usual."

"He’s just trying to figure out where your seals are," Yagyuu murmured,
bent over his shoes.

"Is that all?" Marui rolled his eyes, and popped a bubble in disgust.
"It’s right here." He pulled down the waistband of his shorts and displayed
Belial’s mark. "Happy now?"

"Mm," Niou said, non-committal, and turned to Kirihara. "What about
you?"

"Same," Kirihara said, "but don’t expect me to go showing it off."

"Prude," Marui said, good-naturedly. He grinned at Jackal, who’d kept
quiet so far. "So, since we’re playing show and tell…"

Jackal rolled his eyes. "Same as the rest of you," he said. "Now
are you happy, Niou?"

"Mostly," he said, and shrugged..

"Mostly?" Jackal echoed, and Marui felt he was right to sound worried.

"If you’re planning on asking the three of them where their seals are, let
me know when you’re doing it," Kirihara said. "I want to make sure I’m
nowhere in sight when Sanada-san goes off."

Niou grinned. "I’m not that crazy," he said, and everyone seemed to
relax after that declaration, only to tense up when he added, "Doesn’t mean
I can’t draw my own conclusions, though," and strolled out of the clubhouse.


Genichirou, Renji noted, seemed unwilling to look anybody in the face—no, that
wasn’t strictly accurate. There were specific people he wasn’t looking in the
face, and all of them had just signed the same contract. So. Post-commitment jitters,
or something else? Renji pondered the question as Seiichi sent the doubles pairs
out to the far tennis courts to practice, which was an excellent decision, given
the gleam in Niou’s eyes.

If he wasn’t looking anybody in the face, Genichirou was definitely avoiding looking
at Seiichi at all. Considering what had just changed… Renji sidled over to Seiichi
while Genichirou was assigning drills to the non-Regulars. "I take it you
didn’t warn him about Hatter’s seal, either?" he asked, quietly.

"No," Seiichi said. He gave a little shrug. "I thought the two
of you wouldn’t need warning," he added, "since you’d already seen one
of hir seals."

"I don’t believe it was the seal so much as the sealing," Renji said.
"The process was…" He stopped, and shrugged. "Intense."

"Yes, it was," Seiichi agreed, but stopped before adding anything else,
looking to Genichirou. "This could be a problem."

Renji was about to ask what he meant when Belial slid out of Genichirou’s own
shadow and spoke.


Renji and Seiichi were discussing him; he didn’t have to turn around and check
to know that much. Genichirou growled and the freshmen he’d been lecturing trembled
and scattered to practice.

"One is curious as to why you are so irritable today," Hatter purred
into his ear.

Genichirou couldn’t quite keep from starting, but he did manage to stop the yelp.
"Hatter-san," he said, and it wasn’t retreating to move away in an effort
to reclaim his personal space.

"Are you perhaps afraid that one will no longer respect you?" Belial
continued in that light, mocking tone that set his teeth on edge, still entirely
too close.

"Belial." There was steel in Seiichi’s voice, and Genichirou’s spine
straightened of its own as he whipped around to see what it was that Seiichi wanted.
Beside him, Belial had responded in much the same fashion, which was oddly reassuring.

Seiichi was—yes, stalking, there was no other way to describe that prowl or that
particular glint in his eyes—toward them, Renji trailing behind. "We’ve
discussed this habit of yours before," he said.

"Have we?" Belial asked, recovering his equanimity and batting his eyes.
"One must have forgotten."

"There’s no need to provoke him so much," Seiichi continued, still with
that inflexible tone. "We are yours now."

"One hasn’t forgotten," Belial murmured, his eyes hooded.

"Hurt yourself on someone else, then," Seiichi said, unmistakably commanding.
He waited a beat, and then relented somewhat. "Why go to so much work to
earn us, only to push us away?"

Seiichi had just spread the rest of the pieces out so neatly that Genichirou felt
a bit of a fool for not having seen them sooner. From the way Belial had just
gone still beside him, he did not care for this exposure. Genichirou considered
what was needful, and chose his response carefully. "Seiichi," he said,
keeping Belial in the corner of his eye, "if I can endure Akaya at his most
insufferable, surely I can handle Hatter-san." It was just as well that their
prickly kouhai was out of earshot; he would not have appreciated the comparison.

"Are you so sure you can handle one?" Belial asked, and trailed a hand
down the side of Genichirou’s neck, over the pulse that was beating fast enough
to betray that Genichirou knew that as teasing as he had intended his comment
to sound, and as detached as Belial sounded, this was serious. His hand came to
rest over the other mark he’d left, pressing into sensitive skin.

Genichirou turned his head to look Belial in the eye. "Are you so sure I
would have agreed to anything this important without being completely certain
of myself?" he asked, and reached up to cover Belial’s hand with his own.

Belial held his gaze for a long moment before stepping back, drawing his hand
away from Genichirou’s shoulder. "One finds oneself inclined to take you
at your word." It must have cost him a great deal to say, because he stepped
immediately into the shadow of a bench and disappeared.


"What do you suppose that is?" Bunta asked, with a nod in the direction
of the Trio and Belial.

Yagyuu looked. After a moment, he said, "Settling frazzled nerves, I expect."

Jackal blinked. "What, Sanada’s?"

Yagyuu pushed his glasses a little further up the bridge of his nose. "Possibly."

"Huh." Masaharu thought this over, and nodded. "I suppose I’ll
have to hold off on teasing him, then."

"How remarkably benevolent of you," Jackal murmured.

Masaharu grinned at him. "Is it? I was just thinking that I’ll have all of
eternity to play with, so a few days now won’t make any difference in the long
run."

Yagyuu huffed in amusement. "That’s one way to look at it," he said,
as Belial stepped away from Sanada and disappeared, whatever confrontation it
was they had been having at an end. He looked at the other four. "Come on,
let’s play."


Seiichi moved up to stand beside Genichirou. "Thank you," he said,
as Renji joined them.

"For what?" Genichirou asked. "Telling the truth?"

Seiichi smiled. "No, for being you."

Genichirou snorted. "If you like," he said. A thought occurred to him.
"Did you even think about warning us?" he asked.

Seiichi’s smile was a touch too innocent. "What, and spoil my fun? Don’t
be silly."

"I thought so." Genichirou couldn’t manage to put any heat into the
glare. "Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to mention?"

Seiichi shrugged. "Nothing that you don’t already know by now."

"Is Hatter-san likely to need special handling?" Renji asked. "More
so than usual?"

"For a bit, possibly," Seiichi said. "Until se gets used to the
thought of having hir own tennis team." Upon reflection, he added, "We’re
getting there, I think."

"Good," Genichirou grunted. "Because enduring it doesn’t mean I
have to like being provoked."

"Don’t worry," Seiichi said. "It shouldn’t take Hatter more than
a decade to work this out of hir system." He kept a straight face for as
long as it took Genichirou to choke, and then chuckled. "Got you."

Genichirou sighed. "I’m doomed, aren’t I?"

"Probably you are," Akaya informed him, "but can we have practice
now and talk about our immortal souls later?" He shifted from foot to foot,
swinging his racquet. "I’ve tried to be patient, but really…"

"Then come play a set with me," Genichirou invited him.

"Glad to," Akaya said, with a dark look. "I heard that insufferable
thing, you know."

Genichirou just laughed, and headed for the court.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 06, 05
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Baiting

Rikkai encounters shinigami at Nationals. Drama, I-3

The day was clear and hot, good weather for their first match at Nationals.
Renji supposed it was cosmic parity for something else to go wrong. He sighed
when he saw Hatter’s eyes brighten, as the team made their way toward their
assigned court. What had caught her attention this time? He looked in the
direction she was starting to edge in and suppressed the urge to put a hand
to his forehead. Of all the people for Hatter to decide to tease, of course
it would have to be Fuji Yuuta, and, by extension, Fuji Shuusuke.

His concerns about stirring up the opposition unnecessarily were preempted
rather abruptly, though, when two people materialized between Hatter and
the increasingly nervous younger Fuji. Not that long ago, Renji mused, that
would have startled him. "People you know, Hatter?" he asked, examining
the newcomers. A young man, probably not too much older than they were, with
very sharp green eyes and an older man with messy dark hair who probably
looked sweet most of the time.

At the moment he looked both tense and angry.

Not that this appeared to concern Hatter.

"Ah," she tapped a fingertip against her lips for a moment, "Tsuzuki
isn’t it? How nice to finally meet you in person." She eyed the St.
Rudolph contingent behind him and shrugged. "You can have them, if you
like. It’s not as if one doesn’t have one’s hands pleasantly full."

Tsuzuki now looked like he didn’t quite believe he’d just heard the very clear
sexual innuendo. His friend looked highly suspicious. And St. Rudolph’s Fuji
looked like he was considering making a run for it. Renji couldn’t quite
blame any of them. Hatter did often take people like that.

"Besides," Hatter added, thoughtfully, "One did say one wouldn’t
interfere with the games, and destroying all the courts probably counts."
She glanced at Genichirou, brows raised, and got a glare. "One thought
so. Which is the most likely outcome if we got into a tiff over the boys."

"That hasn’t stopped any other demon I’ve met," Tsuzuki said, slowly,
easing back just slightly anyway. Someone who would rather talk than fight,
Renji noted.

Hatter sniffed. "One outranks you considerably, young one, so there’s
no need to kill you for that consideration. Equally, one has no intention
of forgetting the strength of your bloodline. Sargatanas was an idiot and
got exactly what he deserved. One laughed for days when one heard."
A thin smile curled her lips. "Astaroth simply isn’t having a good century.
His lesser demons still, clearly, haven’t learned anything from their fellow’s
destruction; no forethought among them at all. Please do feel free to kill
them off. You can think of it as your contribution to the good of all our
kind, if you like." She adjusted her hat with eloquent disdain.

Renji’s attention sharpened as Tsuzuki and his friend both stiffened. "I’m
not a demon," Tsuzuki said, low and hard. His friend took a step closer
to him.

Hatter’s expression turned tolerant, the way Renji had seen it when Kurai was
around. "Far be it from one to interfere in someone else’s denial. Take
your time."

Renji was genuinely surprised that it was Mizuki who stepped forward and fixed
Hatter with a sharp gaze. "Please don’t think I don’t appreciate the
artistry of your goading," Mizuki drawled, "but is it not the case
that celestials, just as much as humans, can choose their own paths whether
for good or evil?"

Hatter laid a slim hand over her eyes. "Oh, tell one you’re not thinking
that we could only have Fallen through free will because God isn’t enough
of a bastard to have doomed a third of His own angels to that fate?"

"Oh, hardly," Mizuki assured her with wide, ingenuous eyes. "According
to Raphael-san, He was exactly that much of a bastard."

Hatter took her hand away and tipped her head. "You’ve done your research.
An advance on most demons. One doesn’t suppose…" She trailed off,
invitingly.

Tsuzuki looked indignant, while his friend looked suddenly thoughtful. The
younger one must be rather territorial, Renji decided. Both Akazawa and Yuuta
looked distinctly unsurprised.

"Thank you, but I think not," Mizuki replied, charmingly regretful.
He was clearly enjoying himself, and Renji was starting to be amused. Then
the dark eyes narrowed. "The point is that, while you may entertain
yourself by implying otherwise, Tsuzuki-san’s nature no more dictates his
actions than mine does."

Tsuzuki blinked. And relaxed. For someone as powerful as Hatter implied he
was, Renji mused, Tsuzuki didn’t seem to have put much thought into his own
strength or the presumed causes of it.

Given that, Renji wasn’t entirely surprised that it was Seiichi who answered
Mizuki. "Yes and no."

Hatter looked around, brow raised. "Seiichi, one hadn’t thought you enjoyed
these kind of games."

"I don’t," Seiichi said, dryly, laying a hand on Hatter’s shoulder,
"so hush for a moment, Belial."

Renji had to stifle a laugh. That casual command earned some stunned expressions
on the other side.

Seiichi took no notice, focused on Tsuzuki as if they were the only two present.
"Having a nature beyond the ordinary doesn’t make for an easy life,"
he said. "But denying your nature won’t do you any service in the long
run. The only way to deal with it is to claim it, to declare it. And to fight
for it."

The words passed through the Rikkai team like a tangible thread, drawing them
together. The young man’s green eyes widened and he rocked back from them
as if he could see it happening. Tsuzuki shook his head, though.

"No," he whispered.

There was kindness in Seiichi’s gaze, but no mercy. "Then it will destroy
you, and likely those close to you."

Tsuzuki flinched, and his friend shook off his surprise and stepped in front
of him, eyes blazing. "Enough!" he bit out, slashing his hand down.
His mouth, Renji noted, was tight, as if with pain.

Tsuzuki started. "Hisoka," he said, hesitantly.

"Be quiet," Hisoka snapped at him, "I’m fine. You’re not."
He turned his glare back on Seiichi. "You will stop," he stated.

"Yes," Seiichi agreed after a long, considering moment. "You
should think about it though." He turned Hatter around with him and
gestured to the team. "Come."

"You let him go pretty easily," Genichirou observed, as they walked
on.

"Mm." Seiichi glanced over. "Renji? What did you think of Hisoka?"

"I think he could tell what people were feeling," Renji said. "His
responses were too strong for someone just picking up on body language."
That, too, was an answer that might not have occurred to him a short time
ago.

Seiichi nodded. "He really wouldn’t have let me push any further. And
the seed is planted, now."

"For your second career, perhaps you should consider becoming a therapist,"
Hatter jibed, probably disgruntled that her fun had been cut short.

"If he’s going to come to us eventually," Seiichi returned, coolly,
"he should come well disposed and not insane, yes?"

Hatter’s stride hitched, and she looked at him with suddenly wide eyes. Renji
smiled. Every now and then Seiichi could still surprise Hatter by the unthinking
ease with which he acted in her support.

"So what, precisely, were they?" he asked, hoping to distract her.
Hatter liked it when Seiichi showed his cold streak, and left to her own
devices tended to express her appreciation in ways that caused bystanders
to stop and stare. It didn’t help, he reflected, that Seiichi encouraged
her if he was in a sharp enough mood.

Hatter eyed him sidelong, but consented to be distracted. "Shinigami.
You asked once," she added to Genichirou, "what usually happens
to human souls. Those two are part of the answer. Most souls pass through
either Uriel’s hands or Enma’s offices and go on, but some do stay to be
employed."

"They used to be human, then?" Yagyuu put in. "Well, mostly,"
he amended.

"Yes. Humans with strong spirits, of course, or they wouldn’t have their
current jobs." Hatter paused and looked thoughtful. "Seiichi,"
she said, slowly.

Seiichi raised his brows.

"How would you like to learn magic?" Hatter asked with a wicked smile.

Renji wasn’t the only one blinking at that.

"Um," Seiichi started.

Hatter waved a hand airily. "After Nationals, naturally."

A laugh ran through the team. "Naturally," Seiichi agreed, smiling
as they reached the court. "I’ll think about it."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 25, 05
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Answers

Sakaki meets an old acquaintance. Drama, I-3

He was, Keigo reflected, getting better at spotting the angels. It was something
in the way they held themselves, apart from any mortal excitement around
them. At a place as excited as the courts hosting Nationals, they stood out.
The one that seemed to have caught Kantoku’s attention today, though, was
a bit different from the usual run.

For one thing, he wasn’t making Kantoku’s shoulders fall in the especially
straight line that meant their coach didn’t get along with him. That was
unprecedented, to date.

For another, he looked different. Tall and solid and dark, instead of slim
and fair. All of this made Keigo curious, so when their coach turned aside
toward the new angel, Keigo waved the rest of the team on and followed. Sakaki-san
didn’t send him back, and that was as good as permission. Still, Keigo decided
it would be tactful to stay unobtrusive. He picked one of the trees lining
the walk to lean against while he watched.

Sakaki-san stopped arm’s length away from the, really, very tall angel and
bowed, expressionless. "Uriel-sama."

Keigo blinked. He’d never heard Sakaki-san offer that kind of respect to anyone.

"Israfel," Uriel said, softly. "It’s good to see you again."

Sakaki-san gave him an extremely level look, the kind of look he gave a Regular
who had just lost inexcusably. It didn’t exactly match with the way he’d
greeted this angel, and Keigo started a mental list of questions to ask his
mentor later; he could usually get answers if he picked the right time. Uriel,
though didn’t seem too taken aback by the expression, and only sighed.

"Arariel had a few things to say to me about my absence, and those injured
by it. She mentioned you."

Sakaki-san sniffed. "Did she mention herself? I won’t say I was pleased
to have the majority of my power sealed, but it was better to come to Assiah
and work than to stay in Heaven and deal with the likes of Sevothtarte."
There was little variation in his deep, even voice, but Keigo watched his
eyes and they were narrower than usual. "Humans and angels should not
be apart. We were created for each other. I had, at least, the satisfaction
of saying so to those who had forgotten their purpose."

Uriel moved a step closer, looking down at Sakaki-san soberly. "You have
a right to your anger with them; and with me as well. But you don’t regret
your exile, then?"

Sakaki lifted one brow. "I occasionally regretted the company; I was initially
directed to Aziraphale while I acquainted myself with the mortal world. But
no. I have not regretted my time here."

Uriel turned his eyes on Keigo, and Keigo was startled at how close he came
to drowning in them. Dark eyes that didn’t challenge the way Raphael’s or
Michael’s did, or mock the way Mad Hatter’s did. Perhaps he didn’t have to
ask why Sakaki-san respected this stern, quiet person.

"From the binding between you and this young man, it seems you’re thinking
of returning soon?" Uriel asked, not looking away from Keigo.

"I am."

Keigo didn’t have to be looking to tell that Sakaki-san had slow, hot fire
behind his eyes now. It was the way he got when something he wanted was in
sight.

Uriel seemed to hear it too, or heard something that made his lips quirk. "Well,
then." He turned back to Sakaki-san. "It won’t do for you to return
with less than all your power." He spread one long hand against Sakaki-san’s
chest, and wings unfolded behind him, the color of last year’s leaves. Keigo
found his fingers itching to run though that rich darkness; bad manners,
he reminded himself.

Sakaki-san’s eyes widened and his breath stopped as something crackled around
him, something Keigo thought he might have seen had he looked just from the
corner of his eye. When Sakaki-san’s wings spread in answer, Keigo saw the
something far more clearly. It wrapped around the angel who had taught him
music and tennis and excellence, like heat haze that had coaxed a rainbow
down to play with it.

"If you return to our order," Uriel said, as Keigo blinked away formless
after images, "return as yourself, Israfel." He folded his wings
and nodded a farewell that encompassed Keigo.

"Uriel-sama," Sakaki-san called. When Uriel paused and looked back,
he bowed deeply. "Thank you."

Uriel smiled.

"So," Keigo mused as he followed his coach back toward their team,
"you aren’t actually a Principality."

"Not any more."

Keigo didn’t think it was his imagination that Kantoku sounded smug.

"What is your Order, then?" he asked, when it was clear the answer
wasn’t going to be volunteered.

"The Dominions."

Keigo recalled what his research had had to say about this, and smiled. "Those
who judge and order. I suppose I might have guessed."

Kantoku slanted a glance at him. "You have something to say, Atobe-kun?"

"Not at all," Keigo replied, airily.

The future, he decided, was looking better all the time.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 29, 05
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Practicalities

Hisoka gets help from an unexpected source. Drama, I-3

Hajime had figured out some time ago that Kurosaki could feel what other people
felt, especially if they felt it strongly. It was equally obvious, to anyone
who watched carefully, that Kurosaki didn’t have perfect control of this
‘gift’. Accordingly, Hajime had dropped a few hints about Nationals, how
many people showed up, how excited everyone got about the matches. A few
neighborly cautions.

He was starting to think both his team’s self-appointed guardians had completely
missed them.

Kurosaki had been fine until the matches started heating up. Now he was a bit
glassy-eyed, and swayed every time the crowd shouted. It probably didn’t
help, Hajime admitted, that they were currently watching Fudoumine playing
Hyoutei. Being in the vicinity of Atobe’s club, once he’d finished winding
them up, was probably like getting hit over the head with a hammer, for Kurosaki.

Hajime watched with scientific curiosity to see how long Kurosaki would hold
out before he fell over.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki murmured, putting a hand on Kurosaki’s shoulder.

Well, yes, that had been the other major possibility.

Kurosaki bit his lip, hard. "I’m not… it’s…"

Now even Yuuta and Akazawa were noticing that Kurosaki was having problems.
Hajime considered Kurosaki’s prickly pride and whether Tsuzuki would hold
off any expressions of concern because of it. Extremely unlikely, he decided.

Sure enough, Tsuzuki ignored the people around them and actually pulled Kurosaki
into his arms. Hajime was a bit surprised that Kurosaki only muttered a protest
and didn’t pull away. In fact, he even let Tsuzuki press his his head down
to Tsuzuki’s shoulder and some of the piano-wire tension eased out of him.
Of course, now he was shuddering intermittently, but that was all right;
Tsuzuki had a good grip.

Hajime adjusted a few of the assumed values in his mental equation of Tsuzuki’s
and Kurosaki’s relationship. Apparently the threshold of distress for Kurosaki
to accept Tsuzuki’s help or protection was a good deal lower than Kurosaki’s
snapping and growling suggested. Kurosaki could, it seemed, be practical
about some things after all.

"Does he need to be away from here?" Akazawa asked. Another one,
Hajime reflected affectionately, with a broader practical streak than the
casual watcher might expect. It was a good thing that Hajime wasn’t a casual
watcher.

"I’m fine," Kurosaki said, a bit muffled. And then flinched as Tachibana
drove the ball past Atobe and every spectator roared. His fingers clenched,
white knuckled, in Tsuzuki’s shirt. Hajime shook his head. Kurosaki could
give Yuuta lessons in stubborn, and that was saying something.

"Excuse me," interjected a new voice. "Here."

When a complete stranger closed his hands firmly on Kurosaki’s shoulders, Hajime
braced for the explosion. He’d never met anyone as fanatical about his personal
space as Kurosaki.

The explosion didn’t come. Instead Kurosaki slumped against Tsuzuki, suddenly
breathing easily again. And Tsuzuki, who had been reaching for a pocket,
and presumably some of his ofuda, paused and looked down at his armful of
exhausted partner, wide eyed. "Hisoka?"

"It’s good," Kurosaki answered, sounding quite relieved, and pulled
himself upright. "Who…?"

The newcomer smiled as Kurosaki turned to face him. "Raziel. Pleased to
meet you. They are a little overwhelming, aren’t they?"

Everyone stared at the bright wings folding back away. Hajime simply had to
pause a moment to chuckle over the irony. Tsuzuki and Kurosaki were hanging
around St. Rudolph to guard the mortals from undue celestial influence, and
here it was an angel who managed to help Kurosaki when he was incapacitated
by a crowd of mortals. Delicious.

Kurosaki blinked a few times. "How did you know…?"

Raziel shrugged casually. "I used to get like that, too, before Zaphkiel-sama
taught me how to turn down the intensity." He looked down at the match
with obvious curiosity. "And they’re pretty intense about this."

"Are you associated with any of them?" Tsuzuki asked, cautiously.

Raziel laughed. "Oh, no. I just came to see what could possibly be keeping
all of the Great Angels here. Not," he added in a dry tone, "that
is isn’t quieter with them gone."

"It was that demon that’s hanging around Kanagawa, the one that dresses
weirdly," Kurosaki supplied, clearly regaining some of his usual snap.

"Mad Hatter," Raziel sighed. "Of course it was." He paused
and eyed Tsuzuki for a long moment. "Bet he had some fun with you."

Kurosaki bristled, and Raziel waved a hand. "I don’t play those kind of
head games, don’t worry. But my organization keeps an ear out for rumors,
and you’ve been a pretty popular rumor for a while now, Tsuzuki-san."

"Mad Hatter," Tsuzuki said tightly, "is operating under some
mistaken assumptions, the first of which is that I have any interest in that
part of my blood."

Raziel grinned. "Well, you could always join us instead."

Hajime had been wondering how long it would be before someone made that suggestion.
He nudged Yuuta to keep quiet and folded his arms, watching.

"I could what?" Tsuzuki asked, after a second.

Raziel’s mouth took on an exasperated twist. "Look, a third of the demons
are angels, or at least were. And the rest are descended from angels.
Either from the Grigori who took human lovers or from the children of Lilith
and Lucifer. The angels like to make a lot of their perfect forms, but that’s
just labwork and killing off the ‘imperfect’ ones. The children of two angels
have just as much chance of being altered by their power as the children
of demons. Take it from me." The green eyes that had been cheerful were
chill now. "It’s all the same blood in the end."

Tsuzuki looked stunned, and Hajime put a hand over his eyes. "Do you honestly
mean to say it never occurred to you, Tsuzuki-san?" he asked. Surely
that particular connection was obvious to anyone who had the most passing
acquaintance with angels and demons.

Tsuzuki just blinked at him. Hajime shook his head, ruefully.

"You’re a menace to yourself," he informed Tsuzuki. "You need
a manager. I’d volunteer out of humanitarian considerations if I weren’t
already committed."

Kurosaki glared fiery death at him and edged between Hajime and Tsuzuki. Hajime
smiled his most urbane smile back and chalked up another success. What he’d
told Tsuzuki was true; Kurosaki wasn’t a challenge. He was, however, extremely
entertaining.

Raziel seemed to be trying not to laugh. "You, on the other hand, would
fit in very well somewhere else," he noted.

"Yes, I got the offer already," Hajime murmured.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta said, at last, giving Hajime the look that meant
he wasn’t going to hang around in the cross-fire of one of Hajime’s games
for much longer.

Hajime patted his shoulder. "Of course, Yuuta-kun. Of course."

Raziel shook his head and turned back to Tsuzuki. "I’m not really joking,
though. The Third War upset the basic structure of Heaven and Hell. I’m not
truly surprised that the powerful ones who survived are looking for new sources
of influence and power. To be honest, I expect a major influx of human souls
fairly soon. If you want to come, the Anima Mundi will have a place for you
and your partner; and your spirits, too. Think about it." He smiled
at Kurosaki. "And good luck with your gift." He turned away, strolling
on through the crowd.

Hajime looked after him. "I think recruitment must be some kind of genetic
predisposition in celestials," he mused. "And Tsuzuki-san,"
he added, without looking back, "I think you, too, may need to choose
again. Or, perhaps, choose for the first time. You won’t have any peace until
you do."

"Is that your analysis of the situation?" Tsuzuki asked, quietly.

"Gratis," Hajime agreed. "Consider it repayment."

Behind him, Tsuzuki chuckled, and Hajime was hard pressed not to start when
his hair was ruffled. "Friends don’t give help expecting a return, Hajime-kun."

Hajime sniffed skeptically and did his best to ignore the amusement in Akazawa’s
face and the suspiciously pleased smile on Yuuta’s. Even Kurosaki wasn’t
glaring at him properly.

Honestly, some people just had no sense of propriety at all.

"Rumors," Tsuzuki muttered. "Information." He glanced at
Kurosaki. "Maybe I will think about it."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 30, 05
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Post-Game

Michael taunts Belial about winning and Lucifer gets involved. Drama, I-3

"Hah!" Michael took his opportunity, as the teams filtered past each
other on the way out of the stadium, to taunt Mad Hatter. "Told you
we’d kick your asses."

Ryouma stopped to watch, Fuji-senpai and his brother pausing beside him.

Hatter looked Michael up and down with a glint in his eye. "Technically,
in fact, you have not."

"Hiding behind technicalities, now, huh?" Michael was obviously enjoying
himself a great deal. Tachibana-san was rubbing his forehead, though his
small smile said he wasn’t as exasperated as he tried to sound.

"Michael-kun…"

"What?" Michael grinned. "It’s true."

Hatter flexed fingers that were suddenly full of… playing cards? Ryouma frowned,
puzzled. Yukimura-san, though, made a fast snatch for Hatter’s wrist. Hatter
gave him a deeply disappointed look.

Yukimura-san shook his head. "I’m pleased with the performance of my team,
Hatter-san. If the results don’t entirely satisfy us, then we’ll have to
make sure they come out differently next time. It’s well."

Hatter sighed, and the cards vanished. Ryouma was really starting to wonder
how he did that.

Michael’s brows were nearly in his hair. "Never thought I’d see the day
you had two masters, Hatter."

One corner of Hatter’s mouth lifted in something that was not a smile, and
he turned slowly back to face Michael.

"I wouldn’t borrow too heavily on reflected glory if I were you, Michael,"
Lucifer said from behind the smirking angel.

Michael whirled with a snarl. "You looking for another fight right now?!"

Lucifer lifted a brow, the curl of his mouth far more amused than Hatter’s
had been. "If you like. Little brother." Four black wings swept
open behind him.

Ryouma sighed. This would have been the perfect opportunity for Lucifer to
take his advice. Oh, well.

Michael tensed up even more, and his wings unfolded, too. Fire licked around
him.

"How… tense. Brothers, hm?" Fuji-senpai stirred beside him, looking
speculatively at the two. His step forward, however, was checked by Yuuta’s
very tight grip on his arm.

"Aniki, you’re not allowed to get yourself killed before I beat you at
tennis," Yuuta stated, not taking his eyes off Lucifer and Michael.
"So don’t suggest what you’re about to suggest, okay?"

"You have to admit, it works," Fuji-senpai said, reasonably. But
also quietly.

It looked like they had noticed anyway. Lucifer looked from Fuji-senpai and
Yuuta back to Michael, and laughed softly.

Michael’s jaw dropped. "You… what… what the fuck?!"

"Hm." Lucifer took a long step towards him and cupped the side of
Michael’s face with one hand.

Michael vanished in a skyward flash of wings and sputtered swearing. Lucifer
calmly folded his wings back in.

"Excellent suggestion," he murmured, glancing sidelong at Fuji-senpai.
"I can see why you like this one, butterfly."

Hatter smirked, leaning against Yukimura-san, and Fuji-senpai looked like he
was considering whether to take that as a compliment or not. Tachibana-san,
on the other hand, had his arms crossed and was looking disapproving.

"That was unnecessary, Lucifer-san," he said, quietly.

Lucifer tilted his head, examining Fudoumine’s captain. "Perhaps. But
if he truly wanted to fight me again, he could have done it by now."
He turned and walked away, merging into the crowd just as a blond man and
woman fought their way out of it to congratulate Tachibana.

Ryouma shook his head, sparing a moment to be glad Seigaku’s angel didn’t have
as many Issues as the rest of them. Maybe he should add some psychologists
to The Plan.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 12, 05
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The Dangers of Boredom

Someone takes an interesting walk. Drama, I-2

Character(s): Himemiya Anthy, Karupin

He supposed that he should be doing something more active than walking down
the street, but with all the confusion lately, he didn’t see that he had
many options other than to entertain himself. After all, Ryouma was busy
testing his limits on his own somewhere, and all his other playmates seemed
to be wandering off in the wake of the Nationals.

He noted, suddenly, that he’d walked further than he’d planned, and looked around
to see what kind of place he’d arrived in. Turning his blue eyes to the gate next
to him, he cocked his head thoughtfully at the rose seal on top of it. The place
felt of magic and foreboding.

Which probably meant fun.

Given that the gate resisted a polite touch to it, he had to find a way around
it. If the feel of the place were any indication, it seemed that he’d annoyed
something by bypassing the gate entirely. It was really quite unreasonable, though,
for there to be a barrier that no one meant someone to overcome. He made a pleased
noise to himself and went on, only to discover an interesting tableau.

A girl with pink hair who couldn’t be more human if she tried was talking quickly
to a girl who was a not-human, and attended by a girl who might never have been
human…or alive, for that matter. The third girl turned inquiring, unnatural
green eyes on him, but he simply looked back, waiting for her to make the first
move. She crossed over to him, watching him warily, and reached out a hand to
him. She commented that the barrier had apparently been breeched in two realms,
now.

He answered her that barriers rarely concerned those people whose specialty was
to walk through walls.

The never-human replied that she did not need distractions, particularly at this
time, but that invitations might be issued for a later date.

He shifted, acknowledging her right to ask him to leave, and turned to head back
towards the gate. At the very least, he’d remember where this place was, as it
seemed to be a most interesting development. Perhaps he could bring Ryouma next
time.

The pink haired girl turned to look at the never-human, frowning quizzically.
"Anthy?"

Anthy turned back to Utena with a slight smile. "It was a cat, Utena-sama.
It must have gotten in from the street. It’s going home now."

"A cat?"

"Just a cat." Anthy smiled softly at nothing, and turned back to Utena
and Kurai.

Last Modified: Jan 07, 05
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Echo

Kirihara has a problem with spillover. Humor, I-3

Character(s): Kirihara Akaya, Mad Hatter

No one had told him that he was signing up for this.

Akaya stared at the ceiling above his bed, panting softly, as the ghosts of Sanada-san’s
touches burned across his skin, and shuddered at the overlapping echo of Yukimura-buchou’s
response.

On his hip, Hatter-san’s mark burned.

Akaya moaned into his fist, trying to muffle the harsh sound, as he felt Sanada-san
stroke Yukimura-buchou open. His free hand snaked down the front of his pajama
pants and closed over his aching cock, and he bit down on a knuckle to keep from
crying out. It was probably wrong to be touching himself like this, but when the
two of them got like this, he just couldn’t help it, and—

A low chuckle rolled out of the darkness above him. "That looks uncomfortable,"
someone purred. "Would you like one to assist you, perhaps?"

Akaya opened horrified eyes to see Hatter-san lounging in the air above his bed,
smiling a wicked little smile. He froze.

Hatter-san’s smile broadened a touch. "Ah," he noted, voice light
and cheerful. "One sees that it has taken care of itself." He tipped
his hat to Akaya, and disappeared as suddenly as he’d arrived.

Akaya groaned, and buried his flaming face in his pillow. He’d hope for the relief
of dying of embarrassment, but that wouldn’t be much help any more, not if he
was going to have to spend eternity with Hatter-san.

At least Hatter-san was right; one problem had taken care of itself, at least
for the night. He didn’t so much as twitch while Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-san
finished what they were doing, and their mutual pleasure vibrated through Hatter-san’s
seal.

Akaya grimaced into his pillow. Enough was enough. He’d have to work up his nerve
to talk to… someone… about this. Surely there was something they could do
about this echo effect.

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Interesting Times

Kurikara and Michael hit it off. Drama with Humor, I-2

Kippei really did hope that at some point his days would become less interesting.

"So, lemme get this straight." The short, glowering redhead who had
appeared on his courts put his hands on his hips. "You summoned me
to deal with him?" He waved a hand at Michael, who was also
glowering, dividing his attention between the newcomer and Lucifer.

Lucifer, having set his brother off in the first place, with no regard for
visiting shinigami, lounged on the sidelines watching the show.

The younger of St. Rudolph’s two guardians glared right back. "Who else
were we supposed to summon for something like this, Kurikara?" he snapped.
"Suzaku? She’d make it twice as bad. Souryuu? Give me a break!"

Kurikara paused judiciously. "Well, all right, you might have a point.
Though it could be kind of funny watching the cold fish deal with this."

"Why are you in that form, though? You should have two wings in this world,
not two legs," Tsuzuki cut hurriedly over whatever his partner had been
drawing breath to say, for which Kippei was grateful; he hadn’t noticed Kurosaki
being very moderate in his temper at the best of times.

Kurikara gave him a withering look. "Between them," he gestured to
Michael and Lucifer, "and your knee-jerk habit of casting wards at the
first sign of trouble we’re not precisely standing in Ningenkai, if you haven’t
noticed."

Tsuzuki blinked. "Oh."

Kurikara slapped a hand over eyes. "I’m surrounded by idiots," he
growled, and then paused, glancing at Kurosaki. "Okay, not complete
idiots, a complete idiot really would have called in Suzaku and the whole
city would be burning." He eyed Michael, and the scorch marks from where
he’d lost his temper at Lucifer’s arrival. "You remind me of her, some."

While Michael was deciding how to take that, Lucifer stirred from his slouch
against the fence. Kippei braced himself for a new round of explosions. Lucifer’s
tone, however, was academic when he spoke.

"Of course he does. We are, after all, reflections of each other in our
different planes." Lucifer pushed himself upright, and paced across
the court, not to Michael, but to Tsuzuki. Kippei settled back, watchfully.
Lucifer took the man’s chin in his fingers, holding him still for a searching
examination. Just when Tsuzuki was starting to look tense and Kurosaki was
looking as incendiary as Michael, Lucifer let him go. "You have some
of the same heart as the Messiah," he said, "but your power is
broken. A shame, that. If you were whole you might be able to free your little
human with your own strength." He didn’t wait for an answer before turning
away, which, to Kippei’s eye, was a good thing. Tsuzuki looked stunned.

"Enjoy yourself, Michael," Lucifer told his brother as he walked
away from them all. "Try not to destroy the entire world."

Michael’s jaw dropped, and Kippei sighed. He’d known it was coming.

"Try not… world… you… You asshole!" he howled at Lucifer’s
departing back. "I’m not the one who tried, even if it didn’t
work!" Fire was snapping around him again.

"Michael-kun," Kippei said, firmly.

Michael swung around. "What?!" Kippei waited, and after a moment
Michael deflated a little, and the flames faded. "Sorry," he muttered.

Kippei, now that he wouldn’t be singed, clasped Michael’s shoulder, hoping
to lend him some calm.

Kurikara gazed after Lucifer. "So," he remarked, "that was the
Lord of Hell, hm?" He looked contemplative for a moment before he snorted.
"What a jerk."

Michael stopped brooding and turned a brilliant smile on him. "I like
him," he declared to the court at large. "What was your name again?"

"Kurikara, RyuuOu."

"Michael, Angel of Fire. Pleased to meet you."

Looking at the two of them grinning at each other over clasped hands Kippei
couldn’t help thinking, though he was careful not to say, that Lucifer really
did know his brother pretty well. Michael probably would enjoy himself with
Kurikara. He turned back to his other guests, only to find Kurosaki looking
at him intently.

"Tsuzuki, I really don’t think we should interfere here," Kurosaki
said.

"We know this team is picking up some serious influences from Michael,
though," Tsuzuki objected. "That’s going to mess up the bookkeeping,
and they always blame us for that."

"They’ll live," Kurosaki replied bluntly. "I’ll speak to Tatsumi-san,
if there’s trouble. As long as Tachibana-san is here, it will be all right.
We shouldn’t interfere."

"Oh?" Tsuzuki’s glance at Kippei was suddenly more measuring. "Oh.
Well, in that case…" He was interrupted by the increasing volume of
Michael and Kurikara’s discussion.

"…you got to toast him yourself?" Michael was exclaiming, gleefully.
"Awesome! I was on the other side of the building when Setsuna and Ani-ue
were killing God; I was so pissed off."

"It was great to finally get my claws around the Emperor’s neck,"
Kurikara agreed, with a look that would have been beatific with fewer sharp
teeth. "It was almost as much fun as pounding Souryuu into the ground
like a tent peg when I finally got loose again."

Michael looked enthralled. Kippei sighed. He could have wished for Michael
to acquire a calmer friend, but at least Kurikara seemed to have decent control
of his temper. A muffled chuckle from Kurosaki brought his attention back
to the shinigami. Kurosaki was regarding him with the kind of sympathetic
amusement that suggested he had just heard Kippei volunteer to babysit his
neighborhood’s greatest brat.

"I wouldn’t have your job if they paid me," Kurosaki said. "Good
luck. Come on Tsuzuki."

"Um." Tsuzuki glanced at Kurikara.

Kurikara glanced back and waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. So, Michael, I’m
really not supposed to stay in this plane without anything to do, and as
soon as Tsuzuki takes back his wards I’m going to be a really big flaming
dragon anyway. Wanna come back to Gensoukai with me?"

"Sure," Michael agreed, and then paused and looked at Kippei.

Kippei smiled at him; Michael still needed a good deal of reassurance. "We’ll
still be around when you get back, Michael-kun."

Michael looked away and shrugged. "Of course."

Kurikara gave him a wry look, winked at Kippei, and threw an arm over Michael’s
shoulders. "Let’s go then! Beer and stories!" They both vanished
in a flicker of fire.

Kippei shook his head at the space where Michael had been. Someday, maybe,
his life would stop being quite so strange, but he wasn’t betting on it.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Feb 02, 05
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The Devil Went Down to Hyoutei

Mad Hatter tempts Ohtori and tweaks Sakaki’s nose. Drama with Humor, I-2

Someone had claimed the practice room ahead of him; the plaintive notes of a violin filtered dimly through the closed door, flaunting his reserved 5:15 to 6:15 slot in Ohtori Choutarou’s face.

He suppressed an irritated sigh—didn’t anyone ever look at the sign-up sheets?—and hoped that he’d be able to evict whoever-it-was with a minimum of fuss. He crossed his fingers, prayed for Minami-kun instead of Arisagawa-kun, and knocked.

Whoever-it-was kept playing.

Choutarou did sigh at that point. Arisagawa-kun, then, who could be counted on to put up a fight for the room. Choutarou set his jaw and steeled himself for battle, and opened the door. “Excuse me, but I have this room—oh.” That wasn’t Minami-kun, or even Arisagawa-kun, perched in the window.

Rikkai’s demon lowered her bow and looked at him. “One wondered whether you had planned to stand out there all afternoon,” she said.

“Erm.” After Nationals had ended, Choutarou had hoped (albeit without much conviction) that the summer’s unusual events might be over. So much for that.

Rikkai’s demon, Kantoku had said, is dangerous, and nothing but trouble. Don’t have any dealings with her if you can help it, and leave her strictly to me.

Choutarou edged himself backwards; the demon smiled, eyes bright and amused. “If you’re looking for Kantoku,” he said, “he’s generally on the tennis courts at this time of day. I can go get him for you.”

Rikkai’s demon laughed. “If one had wanted Israfel, one would have found him already, Ohtori-kun,” she said.

The demon knew his name. Choutarou contemplated the implications of that, and didn’t like them. Shit. “Ah. In that case, I’ll—”

“One hears that you play,” the demon said, and lifted her chin, indicating the case that he carried. “Would you care to play with one for a bit, Ohtori-kun?”

Say no, his common sense whispered, but the oddity of the request tugged at his curiosity. “Why?”

The demon shrugged. “Does there need to be a reason?”

“If it’s you—yes, I think there does.” Choutarou was proud of how level his voice was. “And probably a catch, too.”

The demon tapped her bow against her thigh. “Israfel’s stamp is all over you,” she said. Tap, tap, tap, went the bow, until she came to a decision. “One wishes to play, and one’s own mentioned that you play well, should one wish someone to play with. Which one does.” She tipped her head. “Play with me.”

“I’m not prepared for a duet,” Choutarou hedged, turning her request (command? not quite, not entirely) over and examining it from every angle. There didn’t seem to be a catch.

She smiled like she knew that he was wavering. “Let one worry about that.” She set her bow to the strings of her violin again and played a quick run of notes, light and teasing.

“I’m not warmed up,” he said, and was faintly appalled at himself for giving
in to his curiosity so easily.

Her eyes danced. “So warm up.”

This was possibly the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Choutarou found himself coming into the room and setting his case down, nonetheless, lifting out his violin and bow, checking them over and making small adjustments to them before tucking the instrument under his chin and beginning his warm-up exercises. He was conscious of the demon watching him all the while, and his fingers were clumsy at first. She didn’t speak, nor did she offer to move from her perch on the windowsill to pounce on him and drag him off to perdition (or whatever it was demons did; Kantoku had been vague on the subject). He relaxed by increments and his fingers unstiffened, and soon he was running through scales in long, effortless ripples.

At first, he thought that the sound of the second violin was an echo, and wondered, puzzled, whether the soundproofing of the practice room had begun to fail, until a flicker of movement caught his eye. She had begun to play again, following his notes easily, until she caught him looking. Then she smiled and was off, fingers dancing over the strings, spilling out notes that were dark and wild and sweeter than he would have expected.

Choutarou found that he was veering away from the familiarity of his scales as the demon’s melody coaxed him away from them, and chasing after the music that she played. The part of him that was standing back keeping a wary eye on the demon was impressed; he would not have thought it of himself, to be able to improvise like this, not with a partner he’d never practiced with (although perhaps that was less his skill and more the demon’s). The rest of him leaned into the music, relaxing into the wildness of it the same way he fell into a good game of tennis, and he swayed with the beat as the demon’s melody drove them on, faster and higher—

“What is the meaning of this?”

The question washed away the spell of the music like an ice-cold wave of water; Choutarou stopped short, mid-note, breathing hard and staring guiltily at Kantoku.

“One wondered when you would arrive, Israfel,” the demon said, lightly, and hopped down from her perch. “One must congratulate you on having such a specimen under your wings.” A hand settled on Choutarou’s shoulder, hot through the fabric of his uniform.

Kantoku rocked on his heels, looking very much like he wanted to knock away that hand, or possibly tear out the demon’s throat. “You have your own team, Hatter,” he grated. “I won’t let you steal from mine.”

The demon (Hatter-san?) laughed. The sharpness of it ran down Choutarou’s spine like ice. “If you say so,” she murmured. “One finds oneself inclined to prove you wrong.” Kantoku growled and took a step forward. Hatter-san laughed again, and held up her hand. “This one isn’t inclined to be stolen, regrettably. One will respect that.”

“See that you do,” Kantoku said, as Hatter-san stepped away from Choutarou.

Hatter-san smiled. “Or else?” she asked, tone deceptively light. “Oh, very well.” She tipped her hat to Choutarou. “Thank you for your time, Ohtori-kun. Do let one know if you ever feel like being borrowed.” With that, she stepped into a shadow and disappeared.

Choutarou shook himself from his daze, and realized that Kantoku was swearing.

“That,” he said, from between gritted teeth, “was a very foolish thing to do, Ohtori-kun.”

“I—ah—yes, Kantoku. I suppose it was.” Choutarou bowed. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Stand up, boy,” Kantoku said impatiently, coming to him and examining him, and frowning. “Did you make any agreements? Sign anything?”

Choutarou shook his head. “No.”

Kantoku’s frown deepened. “No? Nothing?”

“No, sir.” Choutarou paused. “I think she just wanted to play.”

“Belial never ‘just’ wants anything,” Kantoku said, but he seemed to be calming down, and his tone was dry. “You would do well to remember that.”

“Yes, sir,” Choutarou agreed. He bit his lip. “I suppose I can’t let myself be borrowed?”

Kantoku looked at him for a long moment. “Do you have time in your evenings for private lessons?”

Choutarou blinked, and ran through his schedule. “I could,” he said, cautiously.

“Good. We’ll begin tomorrow. Meet me in here at seven.” Kantoku turned on his heel.

“…sir? Why?” Choutarou called after him.

Kantoku’s smile was thin. “Hell doesn’t have all the best musicians,” he said, “but they certainly don’t need any more. And Belial can keep her greedy hands off my team.” With that, he left.

Choutarou took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That was interesting,” he said, finally, to the silence, and took out his sheet music. He still had the room for fifteen minutes and there was no sense in wasting the time, demonic interruptions or no.

And he told himself, as he lifted his violin again and began to work on the tricky sequence at measure fifty-four, that he was only imagining the purr of Hatter-san’s laughter.

end

Last Modified: Jan 07, 05
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Cooperative Ventures

One Kurosaki meets another Kurosaki. Humor, I-1

"Cousin." Hisoka planted his fists on his hips and glared up…
and up… at the other young man. "Impossible."

The young man in question ran a harried hand through short, orange hair. "Not
like it was my idea, shrimp. And if you’re a shinigami," he added, as
Hisoka reminded himself he wasn’t allowed to kill humans whose time wasn’t
up, "why aren’t you in uniform?"

Hisoka blinked. "Uniform? What uniform?" He frowned at Tsuzuki. "Was
there a memo about getting uniforms, and you lost it again?"

"… younger sister… mother’s name… well, yeah, if his dad was a… huh?"
Tsuzuki looked up from the pad of paper he was attempting to chart the Kurosaki
geneology on. "Um. I don’t think so?" He smiled at Hisoka’s maybe-cousin.
"So you say you’re a part-timer? That’s unusual." He nibbled his lip.
"For the living, anyway."

Ichigo fished out a small badge and tossed it over, still looking skeptical and
out of temper.

Ok, maybe he was Hisoka’s cousin after all.

"Oh!" Tsuzuki gave them both a bright, cheerful grin. "You’re
part of the other branch!"

"The other branch?" Hisoka and Ichigo chorused, and then glared at each
other again.

"Different realms, under different rulers," Tsuzuki explained. "We
do some of the same work, but recruitment is totally separate. We do cooperate
every now and then, but there hasn’t been a joint operation for… a couple centuries,
I think. The Chief is probably the only one who remembers." He handed the
badge back to Ichigo.

"At least he doesn’t draw pictures," Ichigo muttered. He eyed them
dubiously, but finally shrugged. "Whatever. Hey." He looked Hisoka
up and down. "If you’re from an old family, are you any good with a
sword? They keep telling me I could use some extra practice…"

Hisoka smiled for the first time that afternoon.

 

End

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Aug 27, 05
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Teacher

Yukimura meets his new magic teacher and said teacher’s housemate. Humor, I-1

"So, tell me about these people."

It wasn’t really that Seiichi didn’t trust Belial. He did. He just also
had a lively respect for his demon’s sense of humor.

"They’re the children of two of one’s people. They became friends in
college, one believes, when they met up and started comparing backgrounds." Belial
supplied, rather airily. "Don’t mind the one who smirks all the time.
He’s the son of an incubus; he can’t help it."

Seiichi eyed Belial. "And the other one?"

"You’ll like him," Belial predicted with confidence. "He’s an
excellent strategist, under all that cheery smiling. And he has… extensive
experience as a teacher."

"I see," Seiichi murmured. There was obviously more to the story,
but it looked like he’d have to find it out on his own.

When the apartment door opened to Belial’s brisk rap, however, Seiichi had
to admit that Belial had told him the most pertinent details.

The smiling man who answered the door seemed harmless enough, until they entered
the livingroom and the other occupant noticed them. Or, more precisely, noticed
Seiichi and rose with a suddenly brilliant grin. "Tenpou, you should
have told me she’d be gorgeous," he chastised his friend, taking a long
stride toward Seiichi.

Seiichi gave him a look fit to freeze liquid nitrogen solid. "What did
you say?"

The man who’d introduced himself as Tenpou, still smiling, deftly caught his
housemate by the collar and hauled him back out of Seiichi’s reach. "He,
Kenren. I’d think you, of all people, could tell the difference." He
examined Seiichi, and the frost creeping uncontrollably over over the
windows, and gestured discreetly.

Seiichi started as he abruptly felt… warmer.

"I can see why Hatter-sama wants someone to teach you about magic,"
Tenpou noted, thoughtfully, gently shoving a pouting Kenren back toward the
couch.

Seiichi looked at Tenpou with a sharper eye. "I assure you, I’m very interested,"
he murmured.

Tenpou’s smile gained an edge.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Sep 23, 05
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Logical Conclusion

If the seal broadcasts sensation… Porn with Drama, I-4

One

"Niou," Sanada said, carefully, "are you really suggesting an…
orgy?"

Masaharu gave him a patient look. "Okay, let’s go over this one more time.
When Yukimura takes Hatter to bed, or Hatter jumps you what happens?"

Sanada looked uncomfortable. Yukimura looked sympathetic, though not repentant
in the least.

"And it isn’t any better when Hatter gets in a mood and decides on Masaharu
instead," Hiroshi added.

"Well, not for you, no," Masaharu allowed. "I don’t think Akaya
gets it quite as bad then." Akaya, despite not being able to meet anyone’s
eyes, nodded. "Anyway, the point is, since we’re all participating anyway,
why not close up the gaps in the formation?"

Marui grinned. "I’m suddenly picturing this as a new play style."

Jackal closed his eyes. "I didn’t hear that," he declared.

Yanagi frowned, thoughtfully. "Niou, do you really have any idea how much
choreography it takes with more than two people?"

"Renji!" Sanada protested.

"Genichirou," Yanagi returned, "do you have any idea
what it’s like when you’re with Hatter? I never suspected your definition
of sparring was so broad."

Sanada flushed. Yes, indeed, Masaharu reflected, it didn’t do to forget who
The Master was.

Hatter tapped on the door and leaned through. "There you all are. One
was wondering. Planning anything entertaining?"

Masaharu grinned. "Well…"

Two

Belial sank into the water until it was up to hir chin and wriggled hir toes
happily. "Whose idea was it to stage our little experiment at a hot
springs?" se asked, leaning hir head back against the edge.

"Mine," Niou supplied waving a dripping hand without opening his
eyes.

"Remind one to thank you, later," Belial sighed.


The team filtered back into the room in ones and twos and settled down, remarkably
spread out for such a relatively small space. Seiichi’s mouth quirked, and
when he noticed Marui and Akaya fidgeting nearly in unison he couldn’t help
a laugh.

"It really isn’t as difficult as all that," he admonished, coming
to stand in the center of the room. "Belial," he called, softly.

"Yes?" Belial answered behind him.

Seiichi turned, smiling, and lifted a hand to run through Belial’s bright,
wild hair. "I think it’s up to us to start." He leaned in and kissed
their demon, coaxing, and Belial swayed against him, opening hir mouth to
nip at Seiichi’s tongue. It was an easy, laughing, flirting kiss; a good
place for them all to start, Seiichi thought.

Belial shivered abruptly, and Seiichi drew back to see Genichirou standing
behind hir, sliding the robe off hir shoulders. Genichirou’s own robe was
already undone, and Belial made a small pleased noise as se leaned back against
his body.


Watching Sanada-san’s hands stroking down Hatter’s arms was making Akaya’s
breath shorten. Though not nearly as much as when Yukimura-san stepped back
from those two and turned toward him, holding out a hand.

"Akaya."

It wasn’t a command, and that might have been what made Akaya shiver. For Yukimura-san
to ask him…

Someone was standing beside him, and Akaya looked up to see Yanagi-senpai looking
down with a calm, familiar smile. "It’s all right," he said, and
moved past Akaya to where Hatter was arched back in Sanada-san’s arms, one
hand tangled in Sanada-san’s hair, dragging his head down to Hatter’s. Yanagi-senpai’s
fingers brushing along Sanada-san’s jaw lifted his head again, and they smiled
at each other. Akaya blinked to see such a light expression on Sanada-san’s
face.

Hatter laughed and twined his arms around Yanagi-senpai’s neck. Sanada-san
leaned forward to kiss Yanagi-senpai slow and deep before stepping back.
They made it look very simple. Akaya looked back at Yukimura-san and swallowed.
Yukimura-san was waiting for him.

Akaya stood, just a little shakily, and stepped forward. Yukimura-san drew
him close, folded his arms around Akaya, whispering against his ear, "It’s
all right."

Akaya nodded and tried to relax into Yukimura-san’s fingers rubbing his neck,
Yukimura-san’s mouth covering his. The closer Yukimura-san held him, the
easier it was, and when Akaya finally let himself sag against Yukimura-san’s
support he was lowered to the floor.


Trailing his fingers one last time down the curve of Hatter’s bare spine, Sanada
stepped back. Masaharu suppressed a sigh of disappointment, because those
three together made a very, very nice picture. He might not have suppressed
it quite enough, though, because Sanada spoke without turning.

"Niou."

Masaharu made an inquiring sound, lounging on an elbow, and Sanada turned his
head.

"What do you like?"

Masaharu’s eyes widened a bit, because there was a glint in Sanada’s eyes that
he’d never seen there before. A light of amusement where usually determination
ruled alone. Something about that glint suggested Sanada might already know
at least a few of the answers, and Masaharu grinned as he replied, "Power."
He wasn’t quite crazy enough to answer Danger.

Not yet.

Sanada’s lips quirked, and when Masaharu accepted the hand he held down, Sanada
pulled him up fast and hard against his body. Looked like Sanada did, indeed,
already know about the danger part of the answer. Masaharu bared his teeth,
wrapping one leg around Sanada’s hip. This promised to be interesting.


Jackal scooted over to where Hatter was curled in Yanagi’s arms, nibbling on
his shoulder. "Care to trade?" he asked, smoothing a hand down
her shoulder blade."I think Akaya needs Yanagi."

Hatter raised her head, and they all looked over at Akaya, lying spread out
and moaning helplessly under Yukimura’s hands and mouth.

"You may be right," Yanagi agreed. He pressed a kiss to Hatter’s
brow and brushed another across her lips. "Would you mind?"

"We wouldn’t want Akaya to be scared off from participating next time,"
she purred, stretching.

Yanagi laughed, and crawled the couple feet over to Akaya, sliding a hand under
his arched back and murmuring to him in a soothing tone. Hatter smiled and
leaned, bonelessly, against Jackal. He gathered her close and dropped a soft
kiss on her neck, stroking her hip and back slowly.

"You’re all so gentle with one," she sighed.

"I can not be, if you’d rather," Jackal offered, curious. "Do
you like it better rough?"

Her eyes were just a little distant, just a little blank, as she looked at
him. "One doesn’t know. One never really paid much attention to one’s
own pleasure."

Jackal sucked in a sharp breath and held her closer. "And you have to
ask why we’re gentle with you?" he asked, softly, against her blood
colored hair.

"Mm." Hatter pressed against him.


Hiroshi leaned over Marui’s shoulder. "You’re starting to drool,"
he murmured.

"Am not," Marui contradicted, not looking away from Masaharu, who
had laced one hand with Sanada’s and was sucking on Sanada’s fingers. Looking
him in the eye the whole while, of course. Hiroshi’s partner did have a talent
for provocation.

"You like to watch?" he asked.

Marui leaned back against him, grinning. "I like a lot of things."

"Hm." Hiroshi reached down and folded Marui’s robe aside, closing
a hand between his legs.

"Ah!" Marui arched, legs spreading. "Damn, you move fast!"

"You prefer slower?" Hiroshi inquired, squeezing.

Marui groaned. "Of course not."

Yagyuu laughed. Marui was Marui, whether on the court or in bed.


Masaharu moaned when Sanada’s fingers pressed into him. It was swallowed by
Sanada’s mouth.

He arched against, or maybe it was into, that rough hardness thrusting into
him bit by rocking bit. Sanada’s arm around him held him still.

He panted and shivered as Sanada’s fingers worked him open, and felt Sanada’s
lips curve against his neck.

When Sanada’s fingers slowed, Masaharu growled a little. No fair setting him
up for something hard and then not following through. Following Sanada’s
gaze, though, he had a hard time blaming him, and, in fact, couldn’t help
a little smile of proud pleasure.

Hiroshi had Marui down on his knees and elbows, head bent to the floor, while
Hiroshi’s tongue flickered over Marui’s entrance. Masaharu could tell when
Hiroshi actually thrust in by the breathless way Marui moaned. It probably
didn’t hurt that Hiroshi’s hand was between Marui’s legs, pumping him slow
and strong, but Masaharu knew from experience that Hiroshi’s tongue was enough
to hold anyone’s attention all by itself.

Hiroshi also hadn’t bothered to strip off Marui’s robe, merely lifted the hem
over Marui’s hips. Hiroshi’s own was hanging open. They made an incredibly
wanton picture, and Masaharu rubbed his hips against Sanada’s just watching.
Sanada’s fingers curled, inside him, and Masaharu gasped.

At first he thought the wash of tingling heat was just from that, but it kept
going, and he looked again to see Marui coming in long, hard shudders under
Hiroshi’s hands. Sanada’s hold on him tightened enough to drive his breath
out, if he’d had any left.


Jackal caught his breath against Hatter’s mouth, and she melted against him
with a long, low sound of pleasure in her throat.


Akaya tensed, where he knelt over Yanagi-senpai’s folded legs, felt Yanagi-senpai’s
hands on his back dig in, felt Yukimura-san’s fingers inside him twist sharply,
felt Yukimura-san’s teeth close on his neck. He buried a trembling moan in
Yanagi-san’s shoulder as fire plucked at his nerves.


Hiroshi had never come just from bringing his partner off before, but he was
very close to it now, as Marui relaxed in his hands.

"Wow," Marui mumbled, pillowing his cheek on his folded arms.

"Very," Masaharu agreed, flexing his body against Sanada’s. "So
what are you waiting for, Sanada?"

"An invitation," Sanada answered, showing his teeth.


Masaharu was moderately impressed with how quickly he found himself naked and
on his knees, with his back pressed against Sanada’s chest. "Don’t get
to be this aggressive very often?" he suggested, slyly.

"Depends on what mood everyone’s in," Sanada returned, and nibbled
on Masaharu’s earlobe.

Good instincts, Masaharu reflected, sagging back against Sanada’s support.
Though he couldn’t help laughing when Hiroshi fished a tube out of his robe
and tossed it over. His partner always planned ahead.

The feeling of Sanada pushing into him, opening him long and slow left him
open mouthed and breathless.

He did make a strangled sound when Marui, with a grin, squirmed around in front
of him and closed his mouth firmly around Masaharu’s cock.


Hiroshi chuckled. Masaharu was trying to flex forward and Sanada’s hold wasn’t
letting him. Which was not to say Sanada was going slowly, now he had Masaharu
where he wanted him. His partner was in good hands, Hiroshi decided. Very
good hands, if the surge of fever heat running through Hiroshi was any indication.

He glanced over at Yukimura and Yanagi, who were going slowly with
Akaya, and probably just as well. He could see from here that Akaya was shaking
just a little, in Yukimura’s arms, as Yanagi rocked into him slow and careful.
Or possibly he was shaking because of the way Yukimura was kissing him. Hiroshi
suspected that Yukimura had it in him to be an utterly overwhelming lover.
He looked forward to finding out.

For now, though, he thought the hunger in Jackal’s eyes was stronger than his
curiosity.


Jackal raised his brows as Yagyuu edged over to them and wound an arm around
Hatter.

"You want to go to Yukimura," Yagyuu noted. "Hatter and I will
be fine."

Hatter looked him up and down, eyes bright and languid. "Are you quite
sure of that?" she purred.

Yagyuu smiled at her, his usual small, calm smile, made a bit disconcerting
by the sharp, ice colored eyes that emerged as he folded his glasses. "Reasonably."

Hatter laughed, twining around him, and Jackal shrugged. Yagyuu was right,
after all. He slipped up behind Yukimura and stroked a questioning hand down
his back. Yukimura lifted his head from marking Akaya’s neck and glanced
back, smiling welcome.

He made a soft, enticing sound in his throat when Jackal pressed wet, open
mouthed kisses down his ribs and over his hip. When Jackal slipped around
him to continue between his legs, though, Yukimura’s moan was full voiced,
and Jackal liked that even better.


Hiroshi let Belial bear him down to the floor, cradling hir body with his.
He’d been half expecting hir to want to turn the tables some time soon, and
tipped his head back easily when se nipped at his throat. The strong, slim
back under his hands curved sensuously as Belial pressed against him, and
the lines of hir against his palms were one more source of enjoyment.

Se arched over him, caging him under hir body, laughing, and Hiroshi laughed
with hir. He reached up, sliding his hands over hir chest, ribs, thighs,
taking in the texture of hir. He had no trouble believing this was the one
who had seduced whole cities.

"Yours," he murmured, brushing his fingertips over hir lips, and
Belial leaned down to him, eyes heavy with pleasure.


Genichirou had positioned himself where he could see all of the others, though
it had gotten a little difficult to concentrate on anything but the flex
of Niou’s body against his and the hardness of Niou’s thighs spread over
his. Niou’s wildness teased Genichirou to be harder, rougher than he usually
was. Genichirou was careful of his strength, unless he truly lost his temper.
Niou…

Niou wasn’t careful.

Genichirou made a harsh sound into pale, tangled hair as Niou drove back against
him, skin sliding against hot skin.


Belial gasped against Yagyuu’s mouth as his fingers stroked, lightly, between
hir legs. Seiichi must have been telling hir secrets, se decided. Yagyuu
wasn’t hesitant enough to have been ignorant of Belial’s body beforehand.
Few people had ever bothered to discover, or been allowed to discover, that,
just because the nerves weren’t in either of the two standard arrangements,
didn’t mean their density or sensitivity was any less. And Seiichi was the
only one of those people nearby.

Or, for that matter, still alive.

Se moaned softly as Yagyuu slid down hir body and his tongue followed the path
of his fingers. It felt good; hot and smooth, with a bright shiver to the
sensations that fluttered through hir. Good enough that Belial was panting
for breath.

Seiichi had definitely been telling.

"Yours," Hiroshi whispered to hir again, "so relax for me."

Or perhaps they just all thought alike.

It was true, though. They were hirs, and the liquid echo of their pleasure
in hir body was the proof of it. So Belial did relax, letting Hiroshi tease
hir nerves and feed hir desire until se felt like fire was dancing over hir
skin.

And then under hir skin.

And then Belial was arching into Hiroshi’s hands as ripples of pleasure washed
through hir, hot and sleek and brilliant.


Marui tossed his head back with a shiver, drawing away from Masaharu, and Masaharu
might have protested that, except that the humming tingle of other people’s
sensations suddenly had an edge. The first wringing heat was already clamping
down on him when Sanada surged forward, thrusting into him fast and hard,
and Masaharu lost track of the world outside his skin for a while.


Renji sucked in a sharp breath as someone else’s climax crested through him,
jerking his hips up, wringing a desperate sound from Akaya. Renji’s hand,
which had been clasped loosely around Jackal’s cock, tightened and Jackal
bucked into it with a low, vibrant moan. Seiichi shivered and tensed, trying,
Renji knew, not to thrust into Jackal’s mouth, but he was swept along, too.
His teeth against Akaya’s throat made Akaya start, body tightening around
Renji. And then again. And again. And Renji closed his eyes and let the heat
drag him out of himself.


When Seiichi recovered enough breath and wits to untangle himself a bit, Belial
promptly twined hirself around him. Purring. The content little humming noises
in hir throat made Seiichi chuckle.

"One knew you were a good idea," Belial murmured.

"Have to agree with you there," Niou yawned from where he was lying
with his head on Yagyuu’s stomach.

"Mmm," Akaya put in, sounding a bit dazed.

"You didn’t break him, did you?" Belial asked, eyeing Akaya. He revived
enough to give hir a dirty look.

"Don’t be silly," Marui yawned. "Just because Akaya was the
only virgin here…"

Akaya made to get up, probably to go strangle Marui, only to pause with a wince
and a dubious look.

"Asprin first," Renji told him, amusement lurking behind his practical
tone, "and then a hot soak. Retribution later."

Belial collapsed on the floor, in the middle of them all, laughing. "You
were all a good idea," se declared, looking immensely pleased.

 

Three

It was pure luck, really. Akaya happened to be the only one in the room when
Genichirou woke from his nap. And Genichirou happened to be looking in the
right direction to notice the covert glance Akaya gave his bare skin, and
the faint flush that followed.

He did find it amusing that Akaya was still shy after the last forty-eight
hours.

Genichirou considered his immediate urge to invite Akaya over to have a closer
look. He had certainly had his own inhibitions lowered in that time period,
hadn’t he? But, after all, he and Akaya had not had, as Niou insisted on
putting it, quality time together yet. Now seemed like
a good time. "Akaya," he called, low-voiced, and held out a hand
when Akaya looked sidelong at him.

Akaya was still for a long moment before he rose and approached. His eyes were
wary, but also brightening, the way they did when he played practice matches
against Genichirou. Especially matches that got just a little serious. The
brightness pleased Genichirou, but the wariness made him sigh, silently.
Seiichi had told him he would have to address that sooner or later. And while
he’d managed to side-step the issue until now, Genichirou didn’t much like
the idea of a bedmate being afraid of him.

Nor did he deceive himself that this retreat would be a one time thing, not
with Hatter, Niou and Seiichi all involved.

So Genichirou drew Akaya down and gathered him close, the way he held Renji
or Seiichi when they were upset or troubled. He almost winced at the stiff
surprise in Akaya’s body. Genichirou stroked his neck and back, seeking to
quiet him, and slowly Akaya relaxed. Bit by bit the tension in him uncoiled
and he leaned more heavily against Genichirou’s chest until, at last, he
rested his head on Genichirou’s shoulder with a faint half laugh.

"Sanada-san," Akaya said, breath warm against Genichirou’s neck,
"I know."

"Hm?" Genichirou inquired.

Akaya ducked his head down a little further. "I know. When I lost to Fuji
and you let me go… I knew then. It’s all right."

Genichirou was slightly shamed by Akaya’s ready forgiveness. "Thank you,
Akaya."

"Mm." Akaya ran his fingertips down Genichirou’s chest, not looking
up.

The shy touch reminded Genichirou of his initial intention, and he set a hand
under Akaya’s chin to lift his head. Akaya caught his breath under Genichirou’s
kiss, pressing against him. Akaya was tense again, in a different way, now,
and he shivered as Genichirou eased the robe off of him. Genichirou was pleased
with this responsiveness, but for this first time between them he didn’t
want tension of any kind. He wanted to reassure Akaya. Wanted Akaya to feel
safe enough to answer him properly. So instead of pushing Akaya down on the
sheets, he leaned back and drew Akaya along to lie over him.

Akaya made a small, surprised noise and wriggled a bit to get comfortable.
And then he paused and stretched more slowly, eyes drifting half shut as
their bodies pressed together, lean and hard and warm. Genichirou chuckled
and wound his fingers into Akaya’s hair, guiding him down to be kissed again.
He swept a palm, slowly, up and down Akaya’s back, over his shoulders; Akaya’s
legs tightened against Genichirou’s hips when he rubbed his thumb, gently,
over a nipple. When Genichirou slid both hands down to knead Akaya’s thighs
and rear, Akaya turned into a boneless sprawl and Genichirou had to laugh.

"You like that?" he murmured.

"Mmm," Akaya agreed against his neck.

"Good." Now Akaya was closer to where Genichirou wanted him; lax
and pliant and ready to be pleasured. Genichirou fished briefly in the tangled
sheets for the bottle of oil someone had dropped there. That addition to
his touch drew some interesting noises from Akaya, half gasps and little
murmurs caught short. The murmurs turned to genuine moans as Genichirou’s
fingers spread Akaya open and massaged his entrance. Akaya wouldn’t stop
moving, now, tiny twists and stretches that brushed his skin silkily over
Genichirou’s until Genichirou had a hard time remembering to go slowly.

When he finally pressed his fingers into Akaya, Akaya released a long breath.
"Sanada-san," he whispered, soft and rough. The sound of it was
enough to make Genichirou rock his hips up against Akaya’s as his fingers
thrust deeper. This time the sound Akaya made had no words.

Genichirou didn’t think Akaya noticed at all when the door slid open. He, however,
was well placed to meet Seiichi’s eyes as they widened and then gleamed with
a reflection of Seiichi’s sudden, considering smile. Genichirou’s lips twitched.
Seiichi wanted to join the fun, hm? He didn’t think Akaya would object; Genichirou
knew he didn’t.

Genichirou raised his knees and spread his legs, inviting Seiichi. Akaya gasped
as Genichirou’s legs pressed his own wider apart, shivered as Genichirou
withdrew his fingers with a final, firm caress.

"Have you been wondering what it would be like to have Seiichi inside
you, Akaya?" he asked, keeping one eye on Seiichi’s amused expression
as he came and knelt, silently, between Genichirou’s legs.

Akaya shuddered. "Yukimura-san… he… yes," he stammered, tucking
his head down deeper against Genichirou’s shoulder.

"You have good instincts," Genichirou noted, dryly. "He can
be rather intense. It helps to have someone else there. Someone else to hold
you."

Akaya stilled. "Yukimura-san?" he asked, very softly, after a moment.

"Yes," Seiichi answered, laying his hands gently on Akaya’s back.
"I can leave the two of you alone, if you’d rather, Akaya."

Akaya shook his head quickly, though Genichirou could feel that his face was
hot. He pressed against Genichirou, breathing fast, and Genichirou closed
his arms around Akaya, anchoring him. He waited for Akaya to relax against
him again and nodded to Seiichi. Seiichi shed his robe and settled between
Genichirou’s spread thighs. He took in a sharp breath as Genichirou reached
down to slide an oiled hand down his hardening erection until Seiichi laughed
and caught his wrist.

Genichirou smoothed his hands over Akaya’s rear, spreading him open again,
and Seiichi leaned down to place a soft kiss at the small of Akaya’s back.

"Ready?"


"Ready?"

Yukimura-san’s voice was gentle, as reassuring as the firm touch of Sanada-san’s
hands and body. Akaya managed to vocalize a "Yes," albeit a shaky
one. Not that he was reluctant at all; he didn’t think he’d ever been more
ready for anything in his life. The careful strength of Sanada-san’s hands
had nearly dissolved him into warm, slack pleasure. And now the steady pressure
of Yukimura-san sliding into him, opening him, pressing him harder against
Sanada-san’s body, nearly stopped his breath. By the time Yukimura-san drew
back and pressed in again, slow and even and unstoppable, Akaya was panting
in quick gasps.

"Easy, Akaya," Yukimura-san whispered to him, still moving with that
unbearably even rhythm.

Akaya bit his lip. "Yukimura-san…"

Sanada-san’s hands slid down his thighs, squeezing tension out of them, and
Akaya’s voice broke as his control washed away, again, under those hands.
"Harder, Seiichi," Sanada-san said, voice husky. "Give him
something to hold on to; Akaya won’t break."

Akaya’s next breath was almost a sob of relief as Yukimura-san’s rhythm turned
sharper, more powerful. He was moving now, too, hips flexing against Sanada-san
and the solid heat of Sanada-san’s body between his legs steadied him. The
sensation flickering through him was raw, though, and the touches against
him, inside him, were insistent. Demanding as the sparks flashing down Akaya’s
nerves. It wasn’t long at all before shuddering heat raced up him, overtook
him. He felt like it might have drowned him except for the two bodies pressing
him between them. Held by their strength, Akaya jerked wildly with the bursts
of pleasure, let Sanada-san’s mouth muffle the sounds he was making, let
Yukimura-san’s weight pin him down until his muscles went slack and liquid.

He could barely moan at the hot, rough feeling of Yukimura-san thrusting against
his body’s lingering tightness. He did manage a small murmur when Yukimura-san’s
forehead finally came to rest between Akaya’s shoulder blades, one hand stroking
Akaya’s side as if to soothe.

It took him a little while to remember that they should not, really, be done
yet.

"Sanada-san?" he asked, a little hoarse, lifting his head.

"You can move again already?" Sanada-san asked, sounding both amused
and just a bit strained. "I’m impressed."

"Well," Yukimura-san said, voice suddenly silky in a way that made
Akaya shiver, "if Akaya is recovered enough to move a little, we can
see about making you more than just impressed."

Sanada-san’s smile showed his teeth.

"Wait." Akaya glanced down at Sanada-san, hesitantly. "Would
it… is it all right if… um."

Sanada-san looked up at him, questioning. "Akaya?"

"What you started," Akaya said, softly, "would you… finish
it?"

Sanada-san’s brows rose.

"Akaya," Yukimura-san said, winding his arms around Akaya’s shoulders,
"if we do that you’ll be very sore after."

"I’ll be all right," Akaya insisted. "I just… I want…"
He bit his lip.

Sanada-san’s thumb tracing over his mouth coaxed him to stop. He drew Akaya
down and kissed him until the tension Akaya hadn’t noticed left his shoulders
again, chased away by the wet heat of Sanada-san’s mouth. "If you like,"
Sanada-san agreed.

"Yes," Akaya breathed, and then, as an afterthought, added, "Please."

Sanada-san’s lips curled up. "I very much do," he said, voice deeper
than usual.

Yukimura-san was laughing as he pulled Akaya up to lean back against his chest.
Akaya let his head fall back on Yukimura-san’s shoulder, reminding himself
to relax, as Yukimura-san’s hands guided Sanada-san against Akaya. Into Akaya.
Stretching him open again, and it did ache a little but Akaya didn’t care.
He’d been right. It felt good when Sanada-san rolled his hips up, thrusting
deep into Akaya. Even without the urgency of orgasm pushing at him, it felt
good to be opened. Filled. Fucked slowly, and he could see in the line of
Sanada-san’s mouth that he was fighting to be slow, to be careful.

Yukimura-san seemed to have other ideas. "Doesn’t he feel good inside
you?" he whispered in Akaya’s ear. "Do you like the stretch when
he slides into you? The hardness of him?" Akaya shuddered. Oh, yes.
He did like it. He thought, fuzzily, that the hot tingle of Sanada-san’s
pleasure in Akaya’s own body helped; but he’d like this even without it.
"Doesn’t he feel good, Genichirou?" Yukimura-san asked Sanada-san
in turn, and Akaya could hear the smile in his voice, could almost feel it
in the hand Yukimura-san slid down Akaya’s chest. "Hot and taut and
yielding. So willing."

Akaya’s breath stuttered. He didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound so sultry.
So suggestive. Eyes wide, he saw Sanada-san swallow hard, felt his hands
tighten on Akaya’s hips, felt him drive up harder. And then Sanada-san’s
rhythm broke into short, quick thrusts, and Akaya groaned with him.

This time, Akaya really did collapse completely, and was entirely content to
let Yukimura-san and Sanada-san arrange him in between them on the futon.

"You’ve gotten your way all around, haven’t you Seiichi?" Sanada-san
noted as he leaned over to collect a kiss from Yukimura-san.

"Have I?" Yukimura-san asked, lightly.

Sanada-san snorted. "This," he ran a hand over Akaya’s shoulder,
"is how you’ve always regarded our team, isn’t it? As devoted as any
lover. And now you’ve charmed the rest of us to your way of thinking."

"It is pleasant that it worked out that way," Yukimura-san admitted,
curling an arm around Akaya’s waist. "Are you sure you’re all right,
Akaya?" he added, as Akaya shifted a bit.

"I’m fine," Akaya said, quickly.

Yukimura-san’s hold tightened. "Akaya." His voice in Akaya’s ear
was soft, but edged with unmistakable command.

"All right, a little sore, but I really am fine," Akaya insisted.

"Hm." Sanada-san combed Akaya’s hair back with his fingers. "Why
are you blushing then?" he asked.

Akaya growled. He hated his complexion, he really did. He burrowed, grumpily,
into the tangle of covers. "I wanted to make sure," he muttered.
"I did. It’s fine."

There was a little rustling over his head, and then Yukimura-san pressed a
kiss to his shoulder. "I’ll be right back."

"Make sure of what?" Sanada-san asked, as Yukimura-san’s footsteps
receded.

Akaya turned one eye up to him. Sanada-san looked curious; he also looked unusually
patient. Akaya sighed. He was almost as bad at resisting Sanada-san, when
he was calm, as at resisting Yukimura-san any time. "Sure of what it
was I liked," he supplied. "I liked it when… one of you was…
inside me." He hunched his shoulders in a tiny shrug.

Sanada-san pulled Akaya to him and held him tight enough to drive his breath
out. "Good," he said, definitely. The heat and velvet in his voice
were enough to compensate Akaya for the embarrassment of saying it out loud.
"I know what you mean, though," Sanada-san added, relaxing his
hold.

Akaya looked up at him, surprised. "You do?"

Sanada-san gave him an ironic look. "Yes, I do."

"Oh." Akaya settled down in his arms, smiling a little.

"Here," Yukimura-san said, coming back to their side, "turn
over for a minute, Akaya."

Akaya started and then sighed at the cool damp of the cloth Yukimura-san stroked
him with. Maybe, he decided, Hatter was right and all this really was a good
idea.

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 12, 05
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Reconnaissance

Ukitake reports on disturbances in Tokyo. Humor, I-1

Juushirou contemplated the blank page for a long time, marshaling his thoughts, before picking up his pen and beginning to write one of the most improbable reports in the history of Soul Society.

…After being dispatched to the human world, it was agreed that to make most efficient use of our time, the Eighth Division’s captain and I would conduct individual reconnaissance, since the territory to be covered was not so broad that we would be unable to render each other assistance if needed….

Shunsui’s idea, that, and he should have known when Shunsui suggested that they’d make better time by splitting up—“I’ll take the little fiddly bits around the edges, and see what I can ferret out, and you just look in on the big stuff and make sure we haven’t missed anything, how’s that sound?”—but then, no one else had a better knack at noticing small details, either. It was just in keeping with Shunsui’s luck that the territory he’d picked really hadn’t
had any activity worth noting.

…As has been noted in earlier reports, the levels of spiritual activity in the Tokyo and surrounding regions remains at an all-time high. Our survey indicates that the activity is diverse in nature, including entities both celestial and infernal, as well as some influences from our counterparts in the other branch. A detailed list of all activity is appended to this report….

One demon in Kanagawa, very proprietary towards hir team, and tutoring at
least one member of said team in various arcane arts. No less than three
angels in Tokyo, shepherding assorted teams around, although none of them
seemed half as territorial as the demon. At least one other demon and
angel popping in on a regular basis to visit, Antichrist in tow, and that
led one to the fact that the Messiah seemed to be settled in the area
permanently, and took regular visits from Lucifer. Plus the interference
from the shinigami from the other division and the malleability
of the borders between realms at the academy that seemed to be obsessed
with roses.

And that was only the junior high level, for pity’s sake.

What was happening
in the high schools didn’t bear thinking about.

…Hollow activity does not seem to have increased noticeably, yet, but given the rising levels of concentrated spiritual energy, it is our conclusion that it is only a matter of time before it does….

On the other hand, it wasn’t like the motley collection of entities wasn’t
capable of handling the occasional stray hollow, and quite likely had
been since they’d
converged on Kantou. The demon in Kanagawa had done so while he was
in the area, although he rather suspected se had been showing off for
his benefit.

At least, Juushirou thought, grimly, if Aizen decided to
make his move any time soon, there was a fifty-fifty chance that he
would lose.

…It is our recommendation that the situation be monitored closely, and that we prepare ourselves to move swiftly….

Although Shunsui’s inclination to adopt a tennis team of his own was
not precisely the monitoring Juushirou had originally had in mind.
It had taken threats of calling Nanao-chan to dislodge Shunsui from
where he was holding court with the team he’d picked out, trading puns
and pouring sake liberally for the boys he’d elected to adopt, and
Juushirou wasn’t
certain that Shunsui had given up on his scheme, even now.

It wouldn’t be
a bad idea, though, to have someone monitoring things on a more personal
level—and at this juncture, the addition of more spiritual
energy could hardly make a difference in the number of Hollows it attracted.
Juushirou shrugged, and signed the report. As long as Shunsui kept his new
hobby to his afternoons off, he couldn’t
see the harm in it.

Last Modified: May 16, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Home Again, Home Again

Konzen gets home and he and Ryouma finally meet. Humor with Drama, I-2

Ryouma was fairly used to uproars around the house every now and then, especially
when Nanako found his dad’s latest stash of magazines or one of his noisier
senpai stopped by for a game.

This, however, sounded a little different.

He ambled down the stairs to find a scowling blond man standing in the entry
way, and a younger man dragging in the door under a pile of bags.

"Nii-san," his dad called, wandering in, followed by Nanako with
a pleased cry of "Otou-sama!"

Ok, so this was his uncle. Ryouma came the rest of the way down the stairs,
and stood at the bottom while his uncle accepted Nanako’s welcome home and
traded sneers with his dad. This could be interesting; he’d heard stories
about Konzen-jisan

"Worthless as ever, I see," his uncle pronounced, looking Oyaji up
and down.

"Bad tempered as ever, likewise," was the return. Then his dad eyed
the other young man. "You hired a porter?"

"Goku-san," Nanako supplied, smiling. "Here, let me help with
those. I’m afraid we’re down to the smallest room, for you," she said,
as they passed Ryouma and headed down the hall. "Or should I spread
a futon in Otou-sama’s room?"

"Or did you hire a something else?" Oyaji added, leering.

Ryouma’s uncle fetched his dad a quick swat across the back of the head. "Don’t
be an idiot."

"Sheesh, you really haven’t changed," Oyaji complained, rubbing his
head. His eye lit on Ryouma, who had to supress the urge to take to his heels.
That was the bright-idea look. "That’s right, you haven’t met your nephew
yet!"

Ryouma wondered why his uncle twitched at the word ‘nephew’. And then he wondered
how this person could be related to his dad, as he was practically pinned
to the wall with a long, level stare. The stare ended when his uncle smacked
his dad a good deal harder than before.

"Are you completely blind?" Ji-san barked. "The curse is bad
enough, but that…" he squinted at Ryouma again. "Did you sign
anything?" he demanded.

Ryouma blinked. "You’re not one of them, too, are you?"

His uncle closed his eyes as if in pain, right hand flexing just a bit ominously.
"No, I’m not," he said, flatly.

"Ah." Ryouma couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a gun
tucked away at Ji-san’s waist. On the same side as that hand. "I’ll go get my copy
and show you," he suggested, and slipped up the stairs without waiting
for an answer.

When he came back down his uncle was settled at the table contemplating a cup
of tea while the other one… Goku?… chattered at him. Ryouma was reminded
a little of how Atobe-san was with Jirou-san, at least when Jirou-san was
awake. "Here," he offered, spreading out the scroll. "It isn’t
exactly a deal with anyone in particular; just saying that I’ll be there
in return for my own realm."

"Your own realm? Oh, hey, cool!" Goku chipped in, leaning over Ji-san’s
shoulder. Ji-san shoved him off, absently, scanning the contract. At last
he leaned back, and pulled out a cigarette.

"All right," he declared, after a long drag. "Maybe I’m not
completely embarassed to admit you’re related to me."

"That’s nice," Ryouma agreed. "Now, what was that about a curse?"

Ji-san smiled a rather scary smile around the cigarette. "Not sure who
did it, but I bet I can tell you why…"

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Sep 24, 05
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This Time

Tezuka gets to high school and meets his rather unsettling new senpai. Humor, I-2

"So." Fuji hitched his bag up on his shoulder as he strolled along beside
Kunimitsu. "What do you think of this rumor about the new players?"

Kunimitsu stifled a wince as the every student in hearing started murmuring.
He disliked gossip just about as much as Fuji enjoyed it. Still, he supposed
it could be worse.

At least there weren’t any supernatural beings hanging around this year.

"I heard they played soccer in middle school…"

"I heard they got kicked out of the game, and that’s why they switched over
to tennis for high school!"

"But they can’t be any good, if they just started."

"If they’re third years now," Fuji put in, "they have at least that much experience."

"Yes, but…" Ooishi frowned. "I’ve heard that their play has been… well,
rather strange."

"This is their second straight year as Regulars." Kikumaru shrugged. "Seems
like they make a good team."

"Yes, but this thing they have with Yamabuki—" Ooishi broke off as they all
rounded the last corner and saw the courts.

What he saw was a wheel, Kunimitsu thought. Not in shape but in movement—in
focus. Everyone and everything centered on the tall blond who had to be
the captain. Everything moved around him. Kunimitsu frowned; it wasn’t a
very… Seigaku arrangement. Well, he could tolerate it for a year if he
had to, he supposed. The practice seemed to be running smoothly enough.

Though… the burly player with the odd grayish hair, off to one side, was
going to cost the school a new ball machine if his returns kept hitting
it. The casing was badly dented already. Well, he told himself, hanging
onto some optimism, it meant they had an excellent power player in the club.

"Curious combination that pair on the end has," Fuji murmured.

Ooishi looked rather troubled, himself, watching the two players. "You’d almost
think they hated each other."

Kunimitsu had to agree. He had an irresistible impression that both players
were constantly on the edge of grabbing a handful of the other’s long hair
and yanking. The opposing pair, twins by the look of them,
had far more harmony in their formation.

"Tight play, though," Fuji observed. As the red-haired player served he added
more softly, "And a… rather small waist, too."

Kunimitsu raised a brow at Fuji.

"No, it’s nothing." Fuji had a tiny smile, though.

"Ah!" Kikumaru exclaimed, pointing. "Look! He’s even more chibi than Ochibi!"

Then he sidled around behind Ooishi as the "chibi" in question turned to give
him the flattest, coldest, oldest look Kunimitsu had ever seen
on a human face.

Throughout this, the captain had seemed to take no notice of the new first-years’
arrival, but now he called everyone in. Kunimitsu drew a discreet breath
of relief and settled down, as they lined up, to listen to the first day
speech. There were no surprises, which relaxed him more.

Until the end.

"Yamabuki has been working, too. But this year it won’t do them any good.
This year, we’ll take Seishaku and his people down." The captain’s blue
eyes took on a rather unsettling gleam. "This time, we’ll have them."

The Regular players snapped back, in clearly accustomed unison, "Yes, Gi-buchou!"

Kunimitsu was starting to have a very bad feeling about this.

In a Heaven, in a Book…

Suzaku stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at his brother. "Was
that really necessary? I finally thought I’d found a way to make all of
them happy, and now this!"

"It wasn’t my idea." Seiryuu examined his nails. "Talk to my ex-seishi."

Suzaku growled and stalked off across the planes to see what he could do about
this trouble in the way of the souls he’d put so much effort into getting
reincarnated properly. At least, he thought, no one but a mortal would be
interfering with him this time…

 

End

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Recruiting

Ryouma makes Moonlily an offer. Humor, I-1

Echizen Ryouma fully admitted that he was a simple person with simple wants
and simple ways of getting them. This was probably the reason why he’d
ended up meeting with what he was told was one of the more stable Grigori,
and why he was just going to read the proposal to her and send her off with
a copy. Ryouma smiled slightly at Moonlily and began to read.

“To whom it may concern. Echizen Ryouma proposes for those Grigori who feel
an interest that they claim their own place in the emerging realm of heaven/hell.
Echizen Ryouma has been assured by the Lord of Hell (hereafter referred to as
“Lucifer”) and one of the Great Angels (hereafter referred to as “Raphael”)
that a neutral realm in the midst of the current political chaos could be quite
useful, and because of this support, he feels confident enough to extend an offer
to those previously referred to (ie, the Grigori.) Echizen acknowledges that his
place could not be solidified until his death, but in the interests of protecting
those Grigori who are of a mind to avoid being relegated to uncomfortable positions
in heaven or hell, he chooses to establish his domain before he can properly oversee
it. If any Grigori finds a place in the current administration untenable, that
Grigori is invited to live in the future area to be called Sampras. Echizen offers
a place both to those Grigori who wish to continue domestic service and those
who wish to branch out on their own, provided that they are prepared to work in
community with others. Any Grigori accepting the offer also accepts that he or
she lives under the conditions of Echizen Ryouma’s contract with heaven
and agrees to a pact of nonviolence towards all parties in heaven, hell, and Assiah.
Should there be no interest in such a contract, this offer will extend to non-Grigori
on a case-by-case basis. Sincerely, Echizen Ryouma.”

Moonlily blinked at Ryouma, then smiled. “It’s a nice letter. I’ll
show it to the others and we’ll talk about it.”

Ryouma nodded, smiling slightly. “I hope you decide to help. I do want to
make a neutral place where people can be comfortable in heaven.”

Moonlily nodded and left with the letter as footsteps sounded behind Ryouma. Ryouma
didn’t bother to turn. “You didn’t mention that it also guarantees
you an established base and a staff if they take it up,” Raphael said.

“They’ll figure it out themselves,” Ryouma said dismissively.
“And besides, I will need a staff, and the ones who will be staff will be
the ones who choose to be anyway.”

“Your generosity is stunning,” Raphael said dryly.

“Thanks,” said Ryouma absently.

Last Modified: Jan 07, 05
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Compromise

Karupin has some issues with Ryouma’s new realm. Humor, I-1

Echizen Ryoma had two loves in his life. (Actually, he had three, though he would
never admit it, at least not until the said third love stopped playing so damned
hard to get.) Anyone from the Seishun Senior High tennis club could tell you the first one: tennis.
Any of them could also tell you the second: his cat. So no one said anything when
Karupin started to tag along on some of their practice days.

It was one of those days, and everyone was changing in the clubhouse. Fuji was
asking how Echizen’s afterlife recruitment plan was going.

"Fine. I think the mansion’s tennis courts will be finished ahead of the
schedule. I’m thinking about adding another tennis center in the south."
Echizen sounded satisfied, and Fuji nodded.

"Are you adding any gardens to Sampras?" Fuji asked, and Karupin suddenly
tensed, letting out a low hiss. A few seconds ticked by, and Karupin remained tense.

"Your cat doesn’t look very happy," Fuji observed mildly.

"He’s been doing that a lot lately," Ryoma replied, irritated.

"Are you going to take him with you to Sampras when – " Fuji started,
only to be stopped by a sharp hiss. Fuji closed his mouth, stared at the cat for
few moments, then continued. "As I was saying, when you go to Sampras – "

Karupin screeched shrilly, every hair raised on his arched back. Fuji’s lips twitched
briefly.

"I think I know what’s wrong with your cat."

"What?" Ryoma sounded exasperated, as he carefully stroked Karupin’s
back, trying to calm him down. It didn’t seem to be working.

"Echizen, I think your cat’s angry because you didn’t name your place after
him."

"Huh?" Ryoma turned to look at Fuji, a dumbfounded expression on his
face.

"He does that every time you mention ‘Sampras,’" Fuji said cheerfully
as Karupin hissed sharply. "See?"

Ryoma turned his attention back to Karupin, who looked ready to bite off his hand,
and considered something briefly.

"How about a compromise?" Ryoma asked. Karupin twitched his tail skeptically.
Ryoma leaned closer to the cat, and started to talk.

Land of Sampras, many years later

"Welcome to Karupin Mansion, sir," the Grigori at the door said.
The man nodded. In his arms, a spotted Himalayan mewed smugly.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Hard to Get

Ryouma is still chasing Tezuka. Humor with Drama, I-2

Character(s): Tezuka Kunimitsu, Uriel

Kunimitsu picked up the next in his stack of birthday cards, and smiled faintly.
This one was bound to be amusing.

Dear Buchou,

Happy 40th. Heard you passed the Park Ranger certification; congratulations.
Hope bears don’t eat you.

On that subject, finally got Sengoku to sign on, and Lucifer says mountains
no problem to add. Are you sure you won’t come?

Cheers, Echizen

Kunimitsu chuckled softly.

"Is that one from Echizen?" Uriel asked from the couch, sipping his
tea.

"His annual campaign speech, yes," Kunimitsu answered. "Do you
happen to know how he secured Sengoku for the afterlife?"

"If that’s the redhead," Uriel sighed, "Echizen seems to have
maneuvered him and Raphael into proximity at the last Australian Open. They
had quite the lively chat, from what I hear. Raphael came back smirking so
hard Barbiel made him sleep on the couch on general principles." He
shook his head. "For such a straightforward person, Echizen can be very
cunning."

Kunimitsu pulled over a sheet of writing paper. "Echizen has a very good
sense of people, once he’s had a chance to judge them on the court."

Uriel leaned back. "These people are still your friends. Are you sure
it wouldn’t be better to join him, rather than going through me?"

"If Echizen doesn’t have goals to meet, challenges to overcome, it won’t
be good for him," Kunimitsu returned, absently, as he wrote.

Echizen,

Thank you for your good wishes.

Mountains are a fine addition; they’ll make a valuable training location.
I’m sure the domain will do well, with you thinking so far ahead.

Tezuka

"Besides," he added, folding the paper, "I enjoy your company,
and you can use my help more than Echizen. In the end, I expect he’ll be
pleased that I’m next door, as it were, and not interfering with him."

"And it isn’t, after all, as if you won’t be visiting," Uriel suggested,
smiling.

Kunimitsu sipped his own tea, quite calmly. "Of course."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 19, 05
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A Demon and Hir Boy

Kirihara in Hell. Humor, I-1

"You… you… you ate Tash!" Jadis declared, pointing a
shaking finger at Akaya. Or, possibly, at the cloud of smoke in front of
him that had, until very recently, been one of Jadis’ inferior demons.

"Yeah?" Akaya raised his brows and flexed his fingers. "And?"

Belial laughed. This was the most fun se had had in centuries, and learning
that Akaya had managed to absorb the demon who tried to possess him was the
icing on the cake. "Indeed. And one suspects that he’ll do something
even worse to you if you don’t make yourself scarce and stop trying to assert
spurious claims of loyalty. After all," se smiled, wickedly, "he
isn’t a tame human."

Akaya gave hir a pleased look as Jadis scuttled off. "This is fun."

Belial tucked a hand around his arm as they strolled on. "Isn’t it?"

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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The Direct Approach

Ryouma finally catches Tezuka. Humor, I-3

“Welcome to Sampras, sir. May I take your bag?”

Tezuka stared at the smiling Grigori for a long moment. It had been disconcerting
enough to become used to Uriel’s home and the rather eccentric idea that
Uriel seemed to feel was “organization.” He hadn’t just been
making excuses when he told Lily that he couldn’t come to Echizen’s
“Hi, I’m Dead Too” party, as the man had called it. Tezuka tried
to avoid the thought that he’d been making excuses at all, but a lifetime
of honesty with himself made that difficult. “I can handle my bag, thank
you,” Tezuka said, nodding to the angel. “I was hoping to see Echizen.”

The Grigori nodded. “He’s been expecting you. You have your own rooms
next to his, connected with a door, of course. I’ll show you the way.”

Tezuka followed the Grigori automatically. Though part of his mind urged him to
contemplate the Grigori’s words, he opted to look at the décor, instead.
He reflected that it was probably lucky that the twelve-year-old Echizen hadn’t
been able to decorate it himself, because he certainly wouldn’t have done
something tasteful in cream and jade. It did, however, make Tezuka recall Atobe’s
remark that after a while the colors made one feel as if one was fading out of
existence.

“We’re here, sir,” the Grigori said, interrupting Tezuka’s
thoughts. “Mr. Ryouma said to tell you that he’s hoping you enjoy
him and your stay.”

Tezuka gave the Grigori the look he gave Fuji when Fuji had spent too much time
with Belial and it was showing. “Could you repeat that please?”

“Of course. Mr. Ryouma said you’d ask. Mr. Ryouma said to tell you
that he’s hoping you enjoy the rooms and being in him.”

Tezuka shook his head. “Being…”

“Being with him.” Tezuka was suddenly reminded of Eriol and Eriol’s
innocent smile as he watched the Grigori’s polite expression. The Grigori
opened the door for Tezuka. “He’s waiting for you inside, sir.”

Tezuka headed in, dumping his bag by the door. A quick inspection of most of the
suite revealed that it was more apartment than anything. However, Echizen was
not in evidence in the kitchenette, or the living room, or what appeared to be
the office. Tezuka sighed and opened the door to the bedroom. “Echizen…”

Echizen gave Tezuka a sharp look from where he lounged on the bed. “I’ve
finally decided to be direct about it.”

“…ah. I doubt I’ll be able to resist, then,” said Tezuka
mildly.

“You’d better not,” Echizen muttered, rising and crossing the
room swiftly to come to Tezuka’s side.

“Did you learn that pose from Atobe?” Tezuka inquired.

Ryouma glowered at Tezuka and prevented any further comment by efficiently stopping
the other man’s mouth.

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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The Sound of Music

Sanada gets enspelled and everyone gets a surprise. Humor, I-1

Belial really couldn’t help but find it entertaining that Genichirou complained
about Hell’s demons not being serious enough in their work.

"I mean, really," Genichirou was currently holding forth, "this
is ridiculous, what am I doing here? I’m in the wrong story!"

He stopped dead and tried very hard to stare at his own mouth. Belial sat up,
blinking.

"Was Sanada… just… singing?" Masaharu asked, slowly.

"Yes," Renji answered, not as if he quite believed it himself.

"Ah," Belial sighed. "One believes one knows what the problem
is. Just a moment." Se threw a card to one side where it impaled a
grinning demon in an extremely tacky red suit. "One thought you had
been taken care of by that charmingly confused blond girl," se murmured.

"That was… a spell?" Genichirou asked, still a bit pale.

"Lesson sixty-two about living in Hell," Belial told them all. "Never
accept jewelry from demons."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 11, 05
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Irony

Ryouma takes a vacation. Humor, I-1

Character(s): Echizen Ryouma

Ryouma nodded politely to the group that had gathered at his request. Several
hundred years was enough to let someone get used to the same faces and personalities,
he’d found, and so he knew almost every one of the assembled very,
very well. Especially since he’d played tennis with them for several
hundred years. He tugged at his cap, a habit that even death hadn’t
been able to banish, and sighed. “I told you that I have an announcement
to make,” he said. “It’s this. I’m leaving.”

Ryouma noted that understanding was more or less instantaneous on some faces,
less so on others, especially Fuji’s and Tezuka’s. He held a
hand up at the startled exclamations and explained, “The last direct
descendant of any of us died yesterday. Yes, I’ve been keeping track,”
he said, to a questioning look from Inui. He went on, “The world would
probably be fine even if I didn’t go back into the cycle of reincarnation,
but after some time here, I want to make sure that things stay safe.”

Ryouma wasn’t surprised that it was Momoshirou who stepped forward.
“You were the one who dragged half of us here,” Momo snapped.

His answer to that was a lazy smirk. “Which is why I know you’ll
take care of Sampras for me. I’m trusting all of you with it.”
More seriously, he added, “I’m doing this, Momo-san. I’m
just telling you because I didn’t want you to be upset because I disappeared.”

“You’re insane,” said Kirihara flatly.

Ryouma snorted. “I rule a region in a place that’s not heaven
or hell that’s called ‘Sampras.’ Of course I’m insane.
I’m also saying goodbye, until I get back.” He paused thoughtfully.
“I’m hoping that my ambition will be something like politics
this time.”

That, as he had expected it to, made several of the hardier souls laugh.
“Try to be a benign ruler,” Fuji told him serenely.

“I’ll be good,” Ryouma promised. “At least I’ll
try.”

Last Modified: Jan 07, 05
Posted: Jan 07, 05
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Outtakes One

Author and Muse comments on the side, part one. Humor, I-1

Comments One or Team Sponsorship

C

Raphael: Michael, why are you supporting a junior high tennis team?

Michael: Setsuna suggested it.

Raphael: …that shouldn’t make as much sense as it does.

B

Setsuna-the-one-man-cheering-section: Yeah! Go Fudoumine! Waste those bastards!

Michael: *standing on the fence* Fuck you!

Sakaki: *hand over eyes*

Ryouma: I don’t know any of these people. You?

Kamio: Not a single one.

Comments Two or Why Tezuka Sometimes Hates Us

L

Tezuka: I hate you all. [glares]

[pets the buchou] You could have just signed on with Michael, dear.

Tezuka: Don’t I have enough problems to deal with? Momo would make one crack—you
know he would—and the whole school would have gone up. Tachibana’s better
with that kind of thing.

B

Tachibana: *smug* Of course I am. You know, Tezuka, if you were just a little
closer to your people I’m sure they would answer far more readily
to your hand.

Tezuka: *level look* …did you just suggest what I think you just suggested?

Tachibana: No, of course I didn’t. *examines nails*

Tezuka: Leave me alone.

L

[falls out of her chair]

Tezuka, darling, we *can’t* leave you alone. You’re too much fun for that.

Besides, I’m sure that your team would happily shag you, if you wanted it
that way.

Tezuka: … [stalks off]

Seiichi: I think you hurt his feelings.

B

Nah, not his feelings, just his repression.

Tezuka: *glares*

What? You know any one of them would bend over for you. Even Echizen.

Tezuka: Do you mind?

Not in the least. *sweet smile*

L

Especially Echizen, if you ask me. Boy’s got it bad for his buchou.

Tezuka: [hand over face] I’m not hearing this.

And the Fujis! I bet you could be the filling in a Fuji-sandwich!

Tezuka: Lalalalala I can’t hear you!

And haven’t you ever wondered whether Taka-san would go into burning mode
in bed?

Tezuka: Please, God, kill me now.

B

Lucifer: Sorry, Setsuna and I offed him already. I suppose I could kill you,
if you really want.

Tezuka: *hopeful* You would?

Lucifer: *leans on wall* Sure. Of course, you would owe me, then…

Tezuka: I’m doomed.

L

Seiichi: You say that like it’s a bad thing.

Tezuka: You stay out of this. You have biases.

Seiichi: And you don’t? Really, Tezuka. All of that repression can’t be good
for you.

Tezuka: [glare] What works for one team doesn’t work for another.

B

Yeah. *sighs* Not everyone can rule through raw sex appeal.

Tezuka: *opens mouth, closes it* I’m… *glares*

Almost got ya. *grins*

L

Seiichi: [gently] Is it really so difficult to let go, Kunimitsu?

Tezuka: [eyebrows going up] I am not one of yours, Seiichi.

Seiichi: [sigh] More’s the pity.

Coments Three or Debates on Who Wins What

L

Michael: Aw, come on, it’s not like Rikkai hasn’t won for the past
how many years?

Tachibana: Besides which fact, you’ve got the team for eternity. One junior
high championship isn’t that big a deal, in the long term.

B

Belial: *grumbles*

Seiichi: *soothing* Now, now. We’ll all play our best, and what happens happens.
Playing the strongest is a good deal of satisfaction in itself.

Belial: *eyes* If you say so.

L

Tezuka: But—but—we’re the protagonists!

Michael: …

Tachibana: [with satisfaction] Not in this AU, you’re not.

C

Ryouma: Come on, Buchou, it’s not like I’m not going to get everyone to go
to heaven and hell just so that we can keep playing tennis after we die.

Tezuka: ……..

Eriol: I find your ideas fascinating and would like to subscribe to your
newsletter.

L

Tachibana: [smug] It’s good to be me.

Tezuka: Fine, fine, you win.

Michael: Well, yeah, that’s the point.

Tezuka: [considers taking up heavy drinking]

B

Sanada: *holds out sake bottle* Drink up. It doesn’t really help, but it distracts
you from the agony.

Belial: Agony? Excuse one? One is considerably more skillful than that.

Tezuka: *bottle half way to mouth* Sanada. Did he just say what I think he
said?

Sanada: No. No, he didn’t. Pass the bottle back this way, will you?

L

Tezuka: [passes the bottle back] So, your team and Mad Hatter?

Sanada: [healthy drink] …

Tezuka: [worried] That’s not… standard… is it?

Sanada: [passes the bottle back] How the hell should I know?

Tezuka: Fuck. [drinks]

B

*author pops up cheerfully* Oh, probably not, not unless you finally decide
to take Ryouma up on what he is so obviously offering.

Tezuka: *dire glare* You can inflict demons and angels and even relatives
on me, but you will never corrupt my captainly ethics!

Sanada: *quietly* You know, it really isn’t a good idea to give them challenges
like that.

L

Em-chibi: Gen-chan is absolutely right, you know. That sounded like a challenge
to me. I’m sure Fuji could talk Yuuta into a buchou sandwich.

Tezuka: [pales]

Sanada: [taking an interest in spite of himself] I’d say he’s more of an
Echizen-type.

Em-chibi: You think?

Tezuka: [waving hands] Right. Here. I’m standing RIGHT HERE.

Sanada: Definitely. Or possibly Oishi. Buchou/Fukubuchou* has a lot to be
said for it.

Tezuka: [strangles]

———

*Originally typed as "fuckubuchou" which indicates where my mind
is.

C

Eriol: I’m perfectly willing to lock my cute relative in a room with anyone
you ladies could suggest. Or everyone, depending on your preference.

Sanada: Do you, by any chance, know the Mad Hatter?

Eriol: Only by reputation, unfortunately. I’ve never met that charming personage.

Sanada: …I’m going to go find another bottle.

L

Em-chibi: Then I say we lock Tezuka in with his team and let the pants
chips fall where they may.

Tezuka: [has a heart attack]

Raphael: Oh, now that won’t do at all. [resurrects Tezuka]

Tezuka: [whimpers] Why do you all hate me so?

Raphael: This isn’t hate, this is entertainment.

Comments Four or Contributing to the Delinquency of Minors

B

Hisoka: *hand to head* So, did I hear that someone around here has booze?

L

Sanada: You want booze? We got booze.

Tezuka: Sake, scotch, vodka, whiskey, what’s your pleasure?

Yukimura: I never would have figured you for a bartender, Tezuka.

Tezuka: Go away; you’re not allowed in this club. [makes shooing motions]

Cam

By the time you’re done, half the boys will be alcoholics. And then, their
charges will have even more freedom to do as they please.

Tezuka: Perhaps we should cut back.

Sanada: Right after this one.

B

*pets Sanada* There, there, dear, take heart. You’re about to get some.

Sanada: …Tezuka, pass me the whole bottle.

Tezuka: *doubtful* Well, yes, but Cam has a point.

Sanada: Do you really think being sober would stop these three?

Tezuka: …you have a point, too. *takes a healthy swig*

L

Hisoka: And when you’re done, pass that bottle back down this way. [ruminates]
Think anyone would miss that Mizuki fellow?

Tezuka: Shh. Fuji’ll hear you.

Hisoka: Like that’s going to stop me? [drinks]

B

Tezuka: *looks Hisoka up and down* Well, no, not really, but if you give him
ideas he might beat you to it.

Hisoka: Oh.

Tezuka: *thoughtful, and swaying slightly* Or he might decide he likes Mizuki
today, and try to do you in first. Is that lover of yours possessive or obssessive
or anything troublesome like that?

Hisoka: *red* Tsuzuki is not my lover!

Sanada: Better not let the Authors know that. They’ll have you in bed with
him in a flash. They like to torture us, you know.

Hisoka: *morose* I figured that part out, yeah.

L

Sanada: Not that some of us are too good to be tossed into bed with
our teammates, of course. [meaningful look at Tezuka]

Tezuka: [blinking] Are you trying to say something, Sanada?

Sanada: [expansive] Not at all. If I were trying, I’d say that you’re
a prig with a stick up his ass and that getting laid would do you a world
of good. But then, I’m not trying to say anything.

Hisoka: [faintly alarmed] [relieves Tezuka and Sanada of their booze] Ummm,
guys…?

B

Tezuka: *narrow glare* So. I take it you would hop right into bed with Echizen,
if he just happened to be on your team instead of mine?

Sanada: Hell, for all I know, he’s going to show up at the orgy.

Hisoka: *faintly* Orgy?

L

Tezuka: Orgy?!

Sanada: [shrug] These things happen. [thoughtful] I bet we could send Echizen
an invitation…

Tezuka: [chokes]

Hisoka: Should he be turning that shade of blue?

Sanada: Probably not.

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Outtakes Two

Author and Muse comments on the side, part two. Humor, I-1

Comments Five or Muses Get A Hangout

L

[shoos Hisoka in the direction of the Tezuka Bar & Grille]

Tezuka: …the what?

Surely you’re not content dispensing booze from a paper bag, Tezuka?

Tezuka: …

My point exactly. You needed an establishment.

B

Tezuka: *grumbling* Am I at least going to get some in return for the Hell
you’re putting me through?

*floored* Tezuka!

Tezuka: *prim* As long as Echizen is grown up, and not on my team *eyes Sanada*
I have no problem with it.

Really? Well, in that case… *thoughtful*

L

Sanada: There’s nothing wrong with team bonding.

Niou: Or team bondage. [leer]

Sanada: …

Tezuka: …

Niou: I win!

B

Haru-chan! *high fives*

Tezuka: *steadfastly ignoring this* Sanada, I really don’t think he has any
business in this bar.

Sanada: *growls* I couldn’t agree more. Take a hike, Niou, they couldn’t
torture you if they tried; you think it’s all great fun.

Niou: *lazy smile* Make me.

*author cackles in the background*

L

Tezuka: …bouncers. We need bouncers.

Niou: I could be your bouncer.

Tezuka: We need bouncers to get rid of you.

Sanada: Perhaps that thug from Yamabuki?

B

Tezuka: *dubious* Perhaps. If he could manage it, what with all the toothmarks.

Akutsu: *lounging on barstool* Hell yes, I can manage it. What’s in it for
me?

Sanada: *promptly* Free drinks.

L

Akutsu: Sold.

Tezuka: Wait a minute, is this Tezuka’s Bar & Grille, or Sanada’s
Bar & Grille?

Sanada: You were wibbling. I had to take prompt action.

Tezuka: I wasn’t wibbling! I was considering calling his references.

Sanada: Wibbling.

Tezuka: Looking before leaping.

Sanada: Wibbling.

Tezuka: Considering other options.

Niou and Akutsu: [eye Tezuka and Sanada]

Niou: [shrugs] Whatever. Pour me a drink?

Akutsu: Sure.

Comments Six or Tales from Tezuka’s Bar and Grill

L

I’ve been convinced for a Very Long Time that it’s a pretty tough thing, to
be Tezuka.

It’s really no wonder that Tezuka-muse has taken to drink.

Tezuka: I was driven to drink. Get it right.

Meep! Sorry, sorry.

B

*wibbles* Mitsu-chaaaan! *cuddles Tezuka* I promise we won’t torture you anymore!

Tezuka: *sighs* It’s part of the job, and I knew that when I took it.

*big wobbly eyes*

Tezuka: *more briskly* And don’t make promises you can’t keep, Madam.

*sniffs* Okay.

Tezuka: *wry look* This is how you get around Yukimura, isn’t it?

Well, yeah. *thoughtful* Doesn’t work as well on Hatter, though.

L

Belial: That is because one invented most of those tricks. [smug]

[pets Tezuka] Poor sweet baby. It can’t have been any fun at all for him
once he realized that breaking the rules for Echizen meant screwing over
one of the other Regulars.

Sanada: [twitch] "Poor sweet baby"? [twitchtwitch]

Tezuka: [warning] Sanada—

Sanada: [howls, pounding the table] Bwahahahahahahah!

B

Niou: They’re pretty fun like this, aren’t they? *holds out glass*

Akutsu: *pours refills* You’re easily amused. It was a lot more fun when
he thought I was going to kill his precious little ace. *smirks*

Niou: You’re psychotic. I like that.

L

Akutsu: Wait, you do?

Niou: [lazy grin] Doesn’t everyone?

Akutsu: Not that I’ve noticed.

Sanada: [still laughing]

Tezuka: [turning progressively darker shades of red] Sanada, I’m warning
you…

Niou: [sitting up] Hold on, I think it’s about to get interesting.

Akutsu: What, they’re finally going to fuck and get it over with?

C

Ryouma: They’d better not be. I haven’t spent so much time letting Ahobe screw
me to let someone else have Tezuka.

Yagyuu: I’d heard you were a more direct person than that. That’s…intriguing.

Ryouma: I would be direct, but Buchou would tell me to stop, and then everything
would be ruined. Besides, I have time.

Niou: So where’d your captain get the talent of being selectively deaf?

Ryouma: *thoughtful* I think Fuji-senpai trained him into it.

Niou: That reminds me of a story about Sanada…

Sanada: *abruptly stops laughing*

Tezuka: *smug*

Redux

B

*muffling chortles* Eriol is so very evil. Oh, yes.

*pets Hiyoshi* There, there, the scary man is gone. For now.

Hiyoshi: *dark look* Excuse me, I have to go look for that bar I keep hearing
about.

Cam

Sanada: *Looks at Hiyoshi* Here, have a glass.

Hiyoshi: Thanks. *glares at Tezuka* This is all your fault.

Tezuka: …*hands over the bottle*

Comments Seven or They’re Even Evil to Each Other

B

Now… where shall Tsuzuki wind up? *claps hands* Let’s play musical
shinigami!

Hisoka: Drop dead.

What, before I even get the two of you in bed? *innocent look*

Hisoka: …I hate you so very much.

Ah, I feel so accomplished.

C

Ryouma: You know, if you’re looking for a way out of being in the middle of
all those power battles and everything, Sampras…

Tezuka: Echizen, please confine your recruiting efforts to those who are
still alive. And human.

Ryouma: But you always tell us that a good leader makes sure that everyone
finds his place where he can contribute the most to the team.

Tezuka: …I’m going back to the bar.

B

Hisoka: *latching grimly onto Tezuka’s arm* Don’t, for one second, think you’re
going without me.

Ryouma: *thoughtful* Maybe I should make some flyers to post at the bar…

Cam

Maybe Ryoma should include a fully stocked bar at Sampras. I’m sure people
will need it. *grin*

C

Ryouma: I’m probably not going to call it the Tezuka Bar and Grill.

Me: Only because he’d kill you.

Setsuna: Hey, does the Tezuka Bar and Grill serve the Body and Blood of Christ?

Tezuka: ….

Ryouma: Stop that. He’s fragile.

Comments Eight or …Um Authors In A Silly Mood

L

[pets Astaroth]

Poor dear.

B

He’s definitely getting the short end of the stick from everyone. Maybe we
should give him some humans, too. Jyousei, perhaps? They’re all crazy, and
after Hanamura nothing Astaroth does will make any of them blink. He can
trade tales of twin-woe with those two girl-boys.

L

And molest Kajimoto, too.

Tezuka: [to Kajimoto] Run. Run now.

B

*sparkles* You read my mind! I was thinking that the Head Boy Toy team
captain does seem to be the… accommodating sort.

Kajimoto: *sprints*

Fuji: *trips him* Oops. So sorry about that. Now, was there something
you ladies wanted with him?

Belial: *begging* Are you absolutely sure one can’t have him?

Tezuka: *at end of rope* No, you can’t have Fuji, because he’s mine, damn
it!

Fuji: *raises brows* I am?

Tezuka: *growls*

Ryouma: Ne, Fuji-senpai, I’ll arm wrestle you for him.

Kajimoto: *still slightly winded* What is this place?

Tezuka: Hell.

Sanada: Worse. Care for a drink?

L

Em: He’s not "the Bendy Buchou" in my head for nothing.

Kajimoto: …I’ll take that drink now, please. Make it a strong one.

Tezuka: Of course.

Fuji: [to Ryouma] Echizen, why so possessive? Have you learned nothing from
Rikkai’s example? We can share.

Belial: ;_; One wants him for one’s collection so very much.

Ryouma: [reflecting] …share, huh?

Tezuka: [pours himself a drink, too]

B

Ooo, that’s right, he is flexible, isn’t he? Well, that will go right along
with Astaroth’s personal Realm O’ Bondage, Whips and Chains. *collapses in
giggles* He can open a boutique! Right next to Tezuka’s Bar and Grill. And
Kajimoto can demonstrate the products.

Kajimoto: *turns pale*

Mizuki: *pats his shoulder* Now, don’t worry too much. She’s the nice one;
she won’t really hurt you.

Fuji: Much.

Mizuki: It’s the other one you have to watch out for.

*distant look* He’d be really pretty in, say, some nice cuffs. A
set of four.

Mizuki: …maybe.

L

I was going to say… Mizuki, babe, you don’t know us well at all.

Mizuki: Yes, but I do know that you enjoy having your heart twisted
to shreds by angsty toys.

Everyone has a kink, dear.

Mizuki: Some of us prefer our kinks to be sane, and less painful than having
our hearts pulled out through our noses and danced on.

Kajimoto: [waves empty glass] Refill please.

Sanada: Coming right up.

B

Fuji: Sane? *leans over Mizuki* Like, say, baiting someone you know likes to
break people and then inviting him to break you?

Mizuki: *calmly* Like the Author said, everyone has their kinks.

Kajimoto: *hopefully* Can you give him to this Astaroth person, instead?
Sounds like he’d enjoy it.

Not really, not when Tsuzuki’s already taken an interest in him. Do you know
what he gets like when someone in his protection is tied up by a psychopath?

Kajimoto: *gloomily* Fuck.

I can arrange that, yeah.

Sanada: Word of advice. Don’t give this one straight lines like that.

Tezuka: Just remember, we’ll be here for you when it’s over.

Kajimoto: *glassy-eyed*

Last Modified: May 15, 12
Posted: Jan 04, 05
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Size Matters

Crossover with Gundam Wing. Hiruma and Heero have a Spandex Space contest. Duo has an Idea. The world is in trouble now. Total Crack, I-1

They’d barely been at this school two hours and already Heero was regretting it.

“Mmm, strength, grip, yeah you’re perfect.” The blond weird guy with the sharp teeth grinned at them, which made the teeth a lot more obvious. “Welcome to the American Football club!”

“I’m not in any clubs,” Heero answered as evenly as he could when Duo was stifling snickers behind him.

The grin got impossibly wider. “You are now.” Hiruma pulled out a small black book and started paging delicately through it. “Let’s see now. Hm. Oh yeah.” He cackled. “Where do I fucking start? You guys are a blackmailer’s dream!”

At the word “blackmail” spinal reflex got Heero’s gun out and pointed. But then he had to stop and reprocess the whole thing, because there was an assault rifle aimed dead center at him and another at Duo.

And Hiruma was still grinning. “You’ll love football, trust me.”

Heero was having a little trouble with the combination of “blackmail” and “ball game club”. They didn’t seem like they should go together

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Duo put in, “where did you just get these from?” He tapped the muzzle, not at all put out by being held at gunpoint. Heero supposed he was used to it by now.

Hiruma lifted a brow and nodded at Heero’s skimpy tank top and shorts. “Same place he got his, probably.”

“Mysterious extra space in the spandex, gotcha.” Duo eyed the black book thoughtfully and shrugged. “Ever thought of piloting a Mobile Suit?”

Hiruma scratched his chin. “Hmm. You’d need a really big football.”

Duo shot Heero a helpless look, corners of his mouth twitching up. Heero shrugged back. They could play football for a while. It would give him a chance to find a better opening to get the drop on this guy.

Hiruma’s eyes gleamed. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

… or possibly not.

“Hey,” Duo whispered, as they followed Hiruma toward the playing fields, “what do you think would happen if we told him that Treize Kushurenada plans to shut down all football leagues around the world?”

Heero’s eyes narrowed and he smiled.

Six Months Later…

“… and the new Alliance leader has declared that his, er, Mobile Suit Football teams are available at a modest rental fee to any government, to settle political and territorial disputes. Supreme Captain Hiruma added ‘Football rules the world, ke ke ke.'” The news announcer sounded like she didn’t quite believe what she was saying, and who could blame her? But there was no arguing with facts.

Five dazed Gundam pilots stared at the screen.

“Okay,” Duo said, slowly. “Maybe that was a miscalculation.”

“It’s peace,” Heero declared. “I’ll take it.”

The door disintegrated in a storm of bullets. Hiruma appeared in it, grinning. “Found you! Get in those suits and get moving; practice starts in half an hour!”

“We resigned from that club!”

“We were never in that club!”

“I was never in that school!”

Hiruma rubbed his chin, looking elaborately innocent. It was the most unconvincing thing any of them had ever seen. “Really? Then, I wonder where these sign-up papers came from?” He fanned five forms in one hand, and everyone leaned in to look.

Their signatures were all perfectly forged.

Heero growled and went for his gun. Hiruma’s hands were full, and Heero had no intention of playing football for the rest of his life.

Only Hiruma’s hands were suddenly full of metal instead of paper, and half an arsenal was pointed at them. Quatre grabbed Heero’s wrist.

“I don’t want to die just as the war’s ended,” he said firmly.

Hiruma’s grin now showed enough teeth for any two demons. “Practice in half an hour,” he repeated.

End

Last Modified: Feb 07, 09
Posted: Apr 15, 07
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Without Fear

Crossover of Petshop of Horrors and Labyrinth. D seduces the fading Goblin King into the shop. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: D/Jareth, what dreams are made of. Not Exactly Romance, I-3

Character(s): D, Jareth
Pairing(s): D/Jareth

D looked around, fascinated. The doors of the shop went to many strange places, but they rarely took him into dream realms. The strange proportions of the granite walls, in this place, the odd plants and creatures, all spoke to him of dreams, though, and he wondered why he was here.

The shop doors never opened at random.

"Who are you?"

The man who stepped out of the air was… not exactly a man. D tilted his head. "I am called Count D. And you?"

After a moment’s hesitation the man said, slowly, "I am Jareth, the Goblin King." His thin lips twisted. "Without much of a kingdom anymore, I admit."

So. D looked around, curiously. "This world seems robust," he murmured, asking without asking as was only polite.

The goblin waved a dismissive hand. "The world, yes. Creatures live here. But my magic was broken." His eyes were distant and dispassionate as he added, "I suspect I will fade soon."

"Much that is magic can be mended," D suggested delicately.

Jareth laughed, bleak and sharp and wild. "I haven’t the strength any longer to find anyone who can sustain me."

"What is required?" D asked, quiet and even.

Pale, feral eyes focused on him. There was long hunger in them and D spread his hands, serenely, offering.

Given the setting, he was not entirely surprised when Jareth stepped closer, sliding one hand into his hair, tipped his head back and kissed him. He spread his hands against Jareth’s chest, acquiescent. The shop would not have shown him this place if he were not needed.

"Normally," Jareth murmured in his ear, tone ironic, "I would sweep you off to my castle at this point. I’m afraid that’s not possible, right now."

"Quite all right," D murmured, suppressing a smile. "I’m sure we can find something suitable." He took a small step back, hands stroking over Jareth’s shoulders, down his arms.

Jareth looked at him for a long moment, unreadable, before he snorted softly. This time the twist to his mouth was wry as he followed D, step by step back through the door. Across the hall another door fell open and D backed toward it, short, quick steps that turned Jareth’s gaze predatory.

When Jareth swept him up and laid him down on the huge, low bed, D had to stifle an outright chuckle. He didn’t know whether his newest acquisition understood what was really happening, yet, but he was starting to think that the Goblin King might not care. "You’ve caught me," he said, softly, fishing for what it was, exactly, that Jareth needed.

"Yes," Jareth kissed down the line of D’s throat. His hands stroked over D’s body, tracing the lines of him faultlessly through the fabric of his robes. "Give yourself to me," he whispered.

"Yes," D answered, opening his mouth under Jareth’s kisses, pressing against him, answering his hands. It was no more than he did for any animal in the shop, in the end.

Jareth kissed him fiercely, caught him close, lay over him as if to shelter, or perhaps separate, him from the rest of the world, and D was pliant and willing in his arms. And finally, Jareth unwound, over him, breathing out, and slumped against D’s shoulder.

D smiled, soft and sad, and stroked his wild hair back, kissing his brow gently. "We’ll find you proper sustenance, here," he murmured.

"You are of my kind." Jareth didn’t lift his head, voice low and undone.

It was D’s turn to smile a bit wryly. "Somewhat. My line is made of darker stuff than dreams, even yours."

Now Jareth lifted himself and looked down at D, eyes gleaming. "I am servant to your dreams, for now."

"My dream is your life." D met those sharp eyes steadily and they gentled. Jareth lay down again, beside him, acquiescent in his turn, slowly relaxing into sleep.

D lay awake and turned over in his mind plans for finding his newest guest a suitable human.

 

End

Last Modified: Feb 10, 12
Posted: Oct 05, 08
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A Brighter Shade of Red

Crossover of Saiunkoku Monogatari and Fushigi Yuugi. Shuurei has a friend and advisor who is apart from the capital’s politics; Yui has a place for her abilities and a lover who reminds her of them. Drama with Romance and Porn, I-4

Character(s): Hongou Yui, Kou Shuurei
Pairing(s): Shuurei/Yui

Yui curled up on the bed, one hand propping up her head, and watched Shuurei pace the room, sleeping robe fluttering around her ankles.

"And then! And then! He said we couldn’t do anything about Haruki, even if he is taking bribes, because he has a patron from the Heki clan, and I should know that the Heki are going to be the deciding voice in the land redistribution this year!" Her brown eyes snapped like sparks; Yui felt she might warm her hands at that fire of Shuurei’s, melt the ice out of her bones, where it had settled years ago.

In any case, she could help feed it. She pursed her lips, paging, in her mind, through the scrolls she had read—she’d thought at first just to have something to do. "Well, you know I haven’t gotten through as much of your historical law as I’d like, so there may be a contradictory precedent I don’t know about…"

Shuurei turned to her with wide, hopeful eyes, and Yui chuckled.

"The Heki own a lot of land rights outside their province, yes, but isn’t it all subsoil rights? If another block were to buy up the topsoil leases, then that would take effective control of the land away from the Heki, wouldn’t it? I’m sure I read about this just a little while ago."

Shuurei stood still, clasped hands pressed against her lips, eyes suddenly wide. "Oh. Oh yes. And then it wouldn’t matter how the redistribution went, because the usage rights would already be tied up. I wonder… if the Emperor could regain control of that land this way it would pull more power back from the great families… " She nodded decisively. "I’ll write to Uncle, tomorrow, about supporting that."

"Always thinking about the bigger picture." Yui smiled at her. "That’s why you’re a politician and I’m not." Actually, the political tangles here still made Yui’s head spin sometimes.

Shuurei snorted at this, impatient as always with anything that sniffed of self-deprecation. "Just one of the best law scholars in the capital. Even if almost no one but me knows it yet." Shuurei picked up her discarded hairbrush to finish brushing out her hair.

Yui shrugged, smiling. "I always thought I might want to go into law, when I was younger. I like having the chance to do it, now."

Shuurei looked over her shoulder, gentle now. "Maybe that’s why you came here."

Yui turned over on her back, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe. Who knows." Her mouth quirked. "Besides, possibly, Riou." Who she tried to stay away from. She dealt with mysticism even worse than politics, these days.

Shuurei sighed, running her fingers through her loose hair. "Riou came to talk to me again yesterday. He thinks I’ll stop caring for politics and such ‘little things’ sooner or later." She sat down on the edge of the bed with a glum sigh. "Probably sooner, according to him."

"I think he’s dreaming," Yui said dryly. "I’m grateful enough he placed me with you, when I first came here, but honestly. I can’t imagine you ever not caring about this." More softly, "About your people." It was one of the things that fascinated her enough to stay here with Shuurei—her care, her idealism and ruthlessness, each passing effortlessly through her hands in its time, like juggled balls.

Shuurei tangled her fingers together. "I can’t either," she said to them, "but… I’m…"

Yui silently cursed Riou for stirring up Shuurei’s doubts again. She reached out and pulled Shuurei down to her. "Shhh. Whatever your mother was, you’re you." She kissed Shuurei softly and smiled. "See?"

Shuurei laughed, finally relaxing, winding her arms around Yui. "I’m so glad you came," she said, muffled, against Yui’s shoulder.

"I think I am, too," Yui whispered into the darkness of her hair.

Shuurei leaned up on an elbow, eyes wide with mock alarm and sparkling. "You think? That won’t do at all!" She pressed closer against Yui and kissed her back, considerably more sensually, open and unselfconscious.

Yui made a soft sound, lips parting, hands sliding down the full curves of Shuurei’s body under the robe. "Going to convince me to be more enthusiastic?" she asked, husky.

Shuurei, who was always at her best with a challenge, downright grinned, hands busy with the tie of Yui’s sleeping robe. "I think so, yes."

Yui laughed. Having met Kochou she didn’t wonder any more at Shuurei’s boldness and humor about this. And then she moaned softly as Shuurei’s hands stroked over her skin.

She had never told Shuurei, and she never would, that whatever Shuurei’s heritage was, it did change her. Her hands reminded Yui a little, just a little, of being touched by a god, a glow of rightness and presence that wasn’t physical but still heated Yui’s body.

Just enough to calm Yui’s lingering hunger and let her feel this world properly.

"Ahh…" Yui’s breath deepened and she arched up into the wet heat of Shuurei’s mouth on her breast. "Very convincing," she gasped.

"Mm?" Shuurei’s tongue stroked her nipple. "And this?" Slim fingers slid down between Yui’s legs, touching her gently.

Yui was losing track of the game in the pleasure, but managed to whisper, "Very glad to be here," before the sweetness curling down her nerves distracted her entirely. She spread her legs wider, lifting up into the touch, and Shuurei kissed her, murmuring soothing half words, fingers rubbing slow and easy, coaxing and gentle, the way she’d always touched Yui from the first moment they’d met and Shuurei had gathered up her hands in welcome.

Shuurei’s fingers dipped into her and slid back up, bold and slick, and Yui gasped, hips rocking up. She loved Shuurei’s ease with their bodies. It sank her down into the heat, into a feeling of safety as Shuurei’s familiar, mortal and human curves pressed against her and dark hair slipped down to brush her cheek like another caress. "Shuurei," she breathed, arms tightening around her as pleasure curled tighter and tighter and finally broke through her, hot and strong and open.

Shuurei held her close until she sighed and relaxed back against the sheets. Yui nuzzled the curve of Shuurei’s neck and murmured, "You know I’ll stay with you." She hadn’t missed the tiny flicker of darkness in Shuurei’s eyes before teasing covered it.

Shuurei blushed a little, soft and happy, and snuggled up against her. "I know. It’s wonderful; thank you."

"Mm, thank you," Yui returned, and they laughed together, light and breathless.

Sometimes, when Yui ran her fingers through Shuurei’s sleek, dark hair, she remembered Miaka leaning against her, Miaka’s hands reaching toward her. But when Shuurei smiled, warm as the sun and twice as brilliant, dragons and gods and the dimmed day-to-day world that came after washed out of Yui’s mind, and she, too, was very glad she had come to this place. A place where the eyes of the person who touched her saw beauty and wisdom, not fragments and foolishness. It made her think she might become what Shuurei saw.

She held Shuurei closer and murmured against her ear, "Do I get a bedtime story tonight?"

"Of course." Shuurei hooked a leg comfortably around Yui’s. "What do you want to hear about?"

"Tell me more about the Chancellery…"

End

A/N: The author would like to note that this story is entirely the fault of Lys ap Adin, fic enabler extraorinaire.

Last Modified: Feb 10, 12
Posted: Feb 04, 09
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2 readers sent Plaudits.