ooc: I’m very sorry for the inactivity on this blog! mind you, almost every post here relies on another RPer for replies or starters, s-so please excuse me!
The Puppet Who Gave Himself Strings
Fuuya should not have been shaking as badly as he was. He also probably shouldn’t have tried getting as dressed up as he could without stirring up suspicion. How were you supposed to dress on your first date? He had nearly reached for the tux he kept at the back of his closet, but he figured it’d be too much.
They were going to see a movie, he had learned. Though what movie, he hadn’t found out.
Hopefully not one of my own…
He wrung his hands, looking around for anyone that looked like IV. He… He didn’t get stood up, did he?
He felt his heart suddenly start hammering- Did he actually really truly want this? He gulped, nodding to himself. He did, he really did. Perhaps it was only to confirm that he might actually return IV’s affections, if that was what they were, but he wanted to at least spend time with him.
If not as people who were dating, then as friends.
Mizael moved through the floor of one of those human institutions called film studios when he perceived voices from intermediate to far distance.
A few times, men would pass him by, carrying cartons or false monster props or painted like in these pathetic shows Gilag used to watch. Some had retangular gadgets to catch motion on film; they were called cameras, he believed. Come to think about it perhaps his adaptablity in the human world -or at least in here- would have increased without his casual human disguise, he mused. This whole setup brought a picture to his mind’s eye - of human children he saw after having passed by a playground earlier. His ‘life action performance’, through, was a real fight for one world to endure and another to fall into pitch black darkness.
There was nothing amusing about these facts.
When he approached the scene, he was flooded by flashing light devices and the blurred noise of a myriad of human voices talking obnoxiously loudly at the same time. With his limited human perception he was not able to distinguish the tonal differences as with human vision. It bothered him and gave him a sort of headache as the image of this number of Vectors lurring in the Throne Room involuntarily entered his mind. He massaged his temples in frustration.
Mankind had indeed invented quite a few mindless time-consuming activities.
He supposed it was unfortunate that his objective was the center of their entertainment. The boy who wore the blue cape and appeared on television had apparently been involved into the Numbers case.
Mizael decided to take a seat in the back of the anteroom and wait until these noisy sensations subdued to a tolerable volume.
Fuuya gave his whip a few experimental cracks, getting into position when a round of ‘quiet on the set' circled through the room, all eyes and cameras on him.
"To save the people of this world, today is also a banquet of justice! Different Dimension ESPer Robin, here I come!"
Fuuya smiled, nodding to the camera crew and his costars, pleased with himself and a hard day’s work. Of course, everyone congratulated him on the perfectly executed lines and stunts. Fuuya was, after all, a professional.
He stayed on set as everyone cleared out, a single spotlight shone on Fuuya. This… This was how he had met his first friend. He smiled fondly, looking out and-
He frowned, peering out into the rest of the dimly lit set. He could have sworn he made out the shape of someone, though he couldn’t be sure. He stepped out of the spotlight, blinking as his eyes adjusted and- Yes, there was most certainly someone there.
"Hello? Could I help you?" Fuuya asked, his voice losing projection and deepness, walking slowly closer until he could make out the person’s features. He’d certainly never been seen around here, at least not by Fuuya.
"The cameramen have left, as have the directors. Is there something I can assist you with?"
The Story of the Hero and the Boy
Yuma sat up on the ground, loosely draping his arms over his knees for support. Blinking a few times -just as if he was tired- he smiled down to the ground. “From my dad’s shoulders the world always seemed so small…like you could hold it in your hands…!”
I wish he’d come back one day.
He looked up brightly. “But there’s something in each of us. I believe…I believe that once someone crosses your life even if only in a passing, it kinda uhmm….leaves and imprint on who you are, so…I guess from that we can learn, no matter what!” he explained before he rested his chin on his elbows, mumbling into his arm, “So that we won’t feel as lonely.”
“But in the meanwhile” he held his index finger up to look more credible, “we just have to do our best! Y’know, there’s a difference between being greatest and doing things right - like…like if you’re really want something, then you just try again and again!”
“Until then…” Yuma jumped up to his feet, running up behind Fuuya’s swing to give him a light push, laughing. “…let’s do our best!”
Fuuya opened his mouth, as if to speak, but shut it quickly- No no, no thoughts like that. He wouldn’t force his- as IV called them- ‘daddy issues’ on Yuma.
"H-Hey, Yuma? Why did you sneak out with me? Not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but I just… I thought you might have more important stuff to do, like, uhm, dueling!"
Fuuya let go of the chains on the swing, jumping out and landing perfectly on his feet. He’d learned how to do that long ago. After all, doing your own stunts allowed your to show off once in a while.
"I mean," Fuuya continued, turning to face Yuma. "You’re the WDC champion. You must have duelists challenging you left and right! So why…"
Why spend that time with me? I’m no duelist…
Fuuya sighed, now regretting not getting a chance to change out of his ESPer Robin costume. It was all too flashy for something like being on the playground with his friend, wasn’t it?
Get Your Act Together
Thomas tastes the question before Fuuya says it. In truth, it’s been on Thomas’s mind lately - are they friends? They’re co-workers, sure, and maybe Thomas wonders if he’d like to date him but are they actually anything beyond two sides of the same broken mirror? It’s a strange and interesting thing that they are…
So it’s with great surprise to himself that Thomas leans over and kisses Fuuya, lips lingering for a moment while he leans over the table and opens his eyes to study the face in front of him.
Fuuya’s just as fractured as he is, and he’s younger…. so much younger, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve all the black and blue agony and baggage and Thomas drags with him as he trails from person to person looking for stability.
He’ll leave his bags at Fuuya’s door if he’ll take them.
“I think so,” he murmurs, their lips barely brushing as he speaks. He pulls back to sit back down, sipping his drink and then licking his dry lips. “We could be more, if you swung that way,” he adds light-heartedly, chuckling as he winks and reaches for his meal. “What do you think?”
If Fuuya’s voice weren’t caught in his throat, he’d probably scream. He’s mortified not because IV kissed him again but because this time Fuuya was actually sure that-
Oh god he-
He liked it.
All he had asked was if they were friends, something so innocent that he had asked when he was a child, and IV kissed him, let a shiver go through his and so much blood go to his head that for a moment he thought he might faint. Was… Did IV like him that way?
Of all people for someone like IV to be interested in, why Fuuya? Why someone who was hurt so easily, who wore his false identity like armor?
Was IV mocking him?
For everything Fuuya was thinking, staring at IV as though there was nothing behind his own eyes, he had to blurt out
"Are you asking me out?"
Bruce: Hi Fuuya! How's it going? I was playing around there. Sorry that I confused you. That was some reference to something. (pats his soft head gently) Anyways, thank you for rising nicely Fuuya, you're quite intelligent.
Fuuya huffs, shaking his head to unruffle his hair.
“I see, I see- My apologizies for not understanding!”
Get Your Act Together
Thomas shuts his eyes for a moment and drinks in the memories of the WDC. Mostly he recalls the heat and the flames - Tron’s bite and Ryoga’s fury. He remembers darkness and slipping away into nothingness until he was yanked awake. It was a disappointing, really.
Sometimes he thought it would’ve been kinder if Tron had just killed him then and there rather than holding his soul hostage.
So nothing really made Fuuya tick. There was no soul in the way he spoke - it was like reading lines or calling back to the director.
Where was the joy? The life?
Desperation and frustration were a dangerous concoction that Thomas was far too familiar with. Fuuya was barely any more stable than himself! He wonders if the sadness leaks into his every movement the way it does with Fuuya. At the heart of it all it’s a depressing mess of pills, late nights, and shame; cold dishes of self-served loathing eaten alone in dusty corners where there was nothing left to call it home.
Somewhere they’d lost themselves. It’s a terrifying and overarching thought that Thomas wonders if they could find themselves together.
The together sort of together.
He doesn’t date, though, and he wouldn’t subject Fuuya to what double-sided tongue he had tucked between his lips. Already he’d wounded the boy with words and that was when he was being (mostly) unintentionally mean.
Don’t catch me on an off day, Kid.
“You’re better off never having dueled me,” he replies. “You’d probably have been in the hospital if I had. But I had no interest in you. Nor did my… superiors.”
To put it lightly.
The thought of going back to the hospital- after a duel, no less- fill Fuuya with dread. He hated hospitals. He hated the rush to get him there, he hated the questions he was bombarded with when he could barely remember his own name.
And IV would have ended up putting him there again.
"It couldn’t be any worse than what I’d put myself there for-"
Fuuya cuts himself short. Did he just… confess that? That, of all things, to someone like IV? Maybe with that scar IV understood. But IV was someone so painfully opposite Fuuya. He couldn’t…. He couldn’t possibly understand….
There’s something in IV’s eye though. The way he speaks, carries himself. He knows what it’s like to be there, and Fuuya knows this because he saw that look in himself the week after he had come home from the ER, drained, a wisp of a person.
Maybe that understanding is what Fuuya had been looking for for so long. Reaching out into something too bright and hoping a hand would take his to guide him.
Was IV the one who would do that?
"I don’t think I’d be of much interest either way. I’m no duelist, you’d have nothing to gain. No social standing… like crushing an ant…"
Fuuya sighs, sipping his drink and licking his lips. He had only ever been this honest with Yuma, and even then, he was so desperate, scrambling to get a hold on some semblance of normality that he didn’t bother to tell him why he was such a wreck.
"Are we friends?"
He doesn’t mean to voice it, but the question hangs in the air for IV to take or leave,
The Story of the Hero and the Boy
“Hmm….” he hummed contently, observing the empty playground absently a- “Waaahhh-” he made a suprised noise as he was suddenly gently pushed foward, becoming light-hearted laughter. “Ah, thank you!”
“The point is…” He carefully held his index finger up without losing balance. “The point is to believe in yourself and that you have no limits! It’s what my dad taught me! It is the spirit to never give up and always challenge yourself everyday at different place in a different time! So that you can keep moving on!” Yuma flashed a bright smile, holding onto the rope again. Began swinging by himself as a spark suddenly caught him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in a challenging expression. “Limits are just there to be surpassed!”
He swung highter and higher and higher and-
And tumbled onto the sand, limbs spread in all four direction.
Yuma blinked, touching his forehead with his fingers, cringed a bit before shaking himself. “It doesn’t matter if you fall or not! The point is to try again and again!” Yuma stopped for a moment to look up into Fuuya’s face. “A father..?” He thought about it. Wait! Did Fuuya…? Yuma looked down, not knowing what to say…Suddenly sat up! “I know! I know! A dad puts a band aid on your knee when you fall down and hurt yourself! He puts you on his shoulders and carries you home making train noises! But…hmmm, he doesn’t do that forever! He can’t!” Yuma laughed. “Next time he teaches you how to put on a band aid yourself! To patch yourself up together and stand up by your own strength!” Another smile. Charming imperfection. “Yes, dads are awesome!”
[ooc: No need to match length. I just needed it to explain right ;).]
Fuuya felt a pang of longing, smiling softly, if not forced. Yes, it might have been nice to have a dad. Someone who could have encouraged Fuuya to do more that try to please his mother, who could have let him go to school or do things he had seen dads and their sons do on TV.
Fuuya had almost always had to do things himself, but even so had always felt so dependent on others. How could he not? He had spent the majority of his life hoping to be called by his real name. He needed to work harder, always harder, so that he’d finally be accepted as himself.
"It sounds nice," Fuuya mumbled. "I wish I had a father, you know? Just someone… someone to teach me how to do things right."
He shook his head- This was no time for thoughts like that! If Fuuya was going to spend some time with Yuma, he would absolutely make the most of it!
He sat in the swing next to the one Yuma had fallen out of and grinned.
"C’mon! This is fun!"
Bruce: I like to call Fuuya to the stand. Fuuya, would you please rise?
Fuuya frowned, confused. Nonetheless, he stood.
The Story of the Hero and the Boy
“There are lots of things around the corner if you look!” Yuma exclaimed. He looked at Fuuya with a wide smile.
Yuma didn’t like the thought of growing up and having people say he can’t do this or that or or anything! He was just…curious. He wanted to reach out for the unknown! To see and taste and experience and just be around everyone! Yuma wanted to weave bonds! He wanted to fight and clash their souls and fight and protect and one day stand on a hill together and look back and smile and running down to new adventures…
“You know, I always wished I could remain here forever! When Mom and Dad and Akari-neechan took me here back then…” Yuma let himself fall onto one of the swings. He rooked back and forth, slight movements on the sand. “But it’s in changing and surpassing our own limits over and over that we truly become ourselves!”
Fuuya looked at Yuma with a quizzical expression, but smiled nonetheless. He walked up, giving Yuma a light push on the swing- That’s what people did, right? What friends did?
"Sometimes I think you don’t have any limits. You’re just so… you. What was it that you used to say? Kat… ‘Kattobingu’?"
Fuuya beamed, reminded of those few instances with Yuma that ultimately changed his life for the better. Without Yuma to pull him out of that dark rut, Fuuya didn’t know what would have happened.
"Yuma, I… This may seem like a really silly question, but what is it like? Having a father?"
It was something Fuuya had wondered countless times. However, he never bothered asking his mother- He knew why he didn’t have a father, and he never once questioned it.