RP Log: Fuji, Niou (bunta retrieval)
Jan. 30th, 2006 04:06 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
phasing-knavery.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenipuri_xpDate: Backdated waaayback to Sunday, 18th December. XD;
Rating: PG for slight violence. :D;
Summary:The lost log. Niou convinces Fuji to go fetch Bunta from the Brotherhood.
…Niou didn’t feel like resting tonight. He’d spent most of the day slacking off and lying down already, so his back wasn’t dying - something was bothering him. Had been for the past few weeks, in fact, but now his brain was just itchy. Leaving Ryoma asleep in bed, he walked through the door, footfalls silent in the empty hall.
It was well into the night, already past the time bedchecks should’ve occurred – not that he cared about them, but they could have a bearing on where one Fuji Syuusuke was at this point in time. He checked Bunta’s room first but found it empty, which was fair. Said owner wasn’t even on premises.
In which case, Fuji was probably in his own room – 108, beside the first floor commons. Walking back to what was roughly the middle of the hall, Niou knelt and placed a palm on the carpet, determined to put some personal training into practice. It would require some fair concentration, but the theory was sound. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and phased, just leaving that one hand solid as his mind convinced itself the ground was a hole.
One which he abruptly fell through (with an unbecoming soundless yelp as his arm yanked straight – glad for once that he couldn’t vocalise while intangible), ending up hanging a little bit off the tiles of the second floor kitchen. It was like dangling from a ledge, really; his forearm disappeared up through the ceiling. Looking down, he finally phased the remaining hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.
…not so bad <3 Now rinse and repeat to the first floor, though perhaps a little gentler on the falling this time.
The noise was just loud enough to startle Fuji momentarily. Setting the remote aside, he stood from the chair and padded across the room in the flickering blue light of the muted television. Since he could never be too sure who was intruding, he added his own soft pink glow to the dimness of the common area, ready to attack if he needed to.
He didn't need to. "Niou-san?" Fuji let the energy dissipate, extending a hand to help his friend from the floor.
Niou waved at Fuji’s slowly spinning form from where he lay, making a mental note of something he should’ve already known – landing on your feet was harder when your brain was dizzy. He dismissed the hand with a casual wave of thanks but no thanks, preferring to lay there a while longer until his eyes could sit still in their sockets.
“Out here?” he asked, but then registered the flickering TV light and snerked. “We’ve really gotta get you your Bunta back if you’re reduced to watching B-grades and informercials at night.”
Fuji's smile faded at the mention of his ... at the mention of Bunta. Were he speaking to most any other member of the student population, he'd laugh, make some excuse about how entertaining late-night television actually was. "It doesn't work that way," he said instead. Even if he wished it did.
Niou raised an eyebrow (– finding it interesting to note that to him, unlike most people, Fuji didn’t actually look much bigger from this perspective, his body-language was so benign). “What doesn’t work how?”
Fuji sighed and sat on the floor, cross-legged, since it didn't seem Niou was going to get up anytime soon. "... getting him back," he explained. "You can't just walk in the front door and bring him back here."
Niou frowned. And this was his second minor annoyance – Bunta, fine. He was happy enough that the idiot wasn’t dead. But Fuji? Honestly, he’d thought the pink mutant was smarter than that, and definitely hadn’t picked him for the moping type, even a little.
"He won't listen," Fuji clarified. "You know that." He'd called Bunta a few times now, asking when he'd be back. The answer didn't vary much. 'We'll see', or 'when I'm ready'. In recent days Fuji had all but given up on expecting his return at all; there wasn't any real reason for Bunta to stay.
“What the hell,” Niou rolled his eyes. Since when had Fuji been so damned dense? He sat up, cross-legged and knee to knee with the other boy. “He’s never listened. You should know that.”
"I know," Fuji chuckled, dropping his eyes again. "Which means he isn't coming back." He'd do what he wanted. Fuji'd only hoped that Bunta was unpredictable enough to show up, maybe in the middle of the night, maybe by sneaking through the back door leading into the rec room. Maybe while Fuji was watching bad late-night television.
…stupid. Just unbelievably, undeniably stupid. Niou sent a fist into the side of Fuji’s jaw. Carefully unphased, definitely solid. “Stop grinning like a goddamned shrunken skull.”
"Alright." Lashes lifted, eyes hardened to a cool blue, unblinking. Fuji willed the energy rising in him to calm; Niou was not an enemy, no matter how he chose to express his allegiance. He sat back on his palms. "Tell me, then, Niou-san. What would you suggest?"
“Oh, let’s see,” Niou snerked, gold gaze against Fuji’s own as he mirrored the other’s posture, just as hard, just as uncompromising. “Nothing so complex. We walk in the front door and bring him back here.”
"He's not going to come with," Fuji reiterated. "You can't convince him." Yumiko had said as much, months ago. The one you care most about ... He shook his head, a laugh bubbling through his lips. "Though you're welcome to try."
The words were barely out when Niou struck him again – hard enough to split a lip. “I would appreciate it if you would stop laughing, Fuji-san.” It was very finally-toned laughter, and very, very irritating – especially when Fuji thought he knew it all. “You’re built like a girl, so perhaps I’ll forgive you this small oversight: talking does not solve everything.”
Fuji touched a cool finger to his mouth, noting the thin film of blood that came away with it. "You're planning on hitting him, too?"
“Tell me he’s been any less stupid than you,” Niou said, “And maybe I’ll consider changing my course of action.”
Not less stupid. Quite possibly more stupid. Fuji fought back the grin that threatened to spread across his face. It would force Bunta to listen ... "At least tell me that you weren't planning on going alone."
“If I’d been set on it, you wouldn’t’ve seen me leave <3” Niou chuckled (most ungraceful entrance aside for now). His eyes narrowed. And I wouldn’t have waited this long for you to do something first. “I take it you want in?”
If it would bring him back ... "Yes."
Fuji didn't know when he'd gotten so attached to Bunta. Obviously it had happened over the course of months, but how the relationship had progressed from teasing and casual intimacy to being deeply concerned about his welfare was still a mystery. It hardly mattered now, with the prospect of his return becoming more tangible by the second. "When do we leave?"
Niou shrugged a shoulder in mock elegance and stood. “No time like the present, wouldn’t you say?” It’s not like they needed to plan for something like this, and both of them knew the Brotherhood complex well enough anyway.
He eyed his own t-shirt and boxers. “Though maybe a change of clothes would be in order <3” Pyjamas were so not the outdoor winter gear of choice.
"I'll meet you back here in ten minutes," Fuji stated. That should give him enough time to clean the blood off his lip (he never would have suspected that coming) and get dressed.
“Consider it done.”
[[ After this: in short, they made it unseen: Fuji confronted Bunta in the kitchen, Bunta ended up stabbing at Fuji and gashed Fuji’s arm. Niou knocked Fuji out, then Bunta, too. And then asked Yagyuu to help him carry the bodies back to Ryuhana. Something will be posted to detail that soon. ; ]]
Rating: PG for slight violence. :D;
Summary:
…Niou didn’t feel like resting tonight. He’d spent most of the day slacking off and lying down already, so his back wasn’t dying - something was bothering him. Had been for the past few weeks, in fact, but now his brain was just itchy. Leaving Ryoma asleep in bed, he walked through the door, footfalls silent in the empty hall.
It was well into the night, already past the time bedchecks should’ve occurred – not that he cared about them, but they could have a bearing on where one Fuji Syuusuke was at this point in time. He checked Bunta’s room first but found it empty, which was fair. Said owner wasn’t even on premises.
In which case, Fuji was probably in his own room – 108, beside the first floor commons. Walking back to what was roughly the middle of the hall, Niou knelt and placed a palm on the carpet, determined to put some personal training into practice. It would require some fair concentration, but the theory was sound. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and phased, just leaving that one hand solid as his mind convinced itself the ground was a hole.
One which he abruptly fell through (with an unbecoming soundless yelp as his arm yanked straight – glad for once that he couldn’t vocalise while intangible), ending up hanging a little bit off the tiles of the second floor kitchen. It was like dangling from a ledge, really; his forearm disappeared up through the ceiling. Looking down, he finally phased the remaining hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.
…not so bad <3 Now rinse and repeat to the first floor, though perhaps a little gentler on the falling this time.
The noise was just loud enough to startle Fuji momentarily. Setting the remote aside, he stood from the chair and padded across the room in the flickering blue light of the muted television. Since he could never be too sure who was intruding, he added his own soft pink glow to the dimness of the common area, ready to attack if he needed to.
He didn't need to. "Niou-san?" Fuji let the energy dissipate, extending a hand to help his friend from the floor.
Niou waved at Fuji’s slowly spinning form from where he lay, making a mental note of something he should’ve already known – landing on your feet was harder when your brain was dizzy. He dismissed the hand with a casual wave of thanks but no thanks, preferring to lay there a while longer until his eyes could sit still in their sockets.
“Out here?” he asked, but then registered the flickering TV light and snerked. “We’ve really gotta get you your Bunta back if you’re reduced to watching B-grades and informercials at night.”
Fuji's smile faded at the mention of his ... at the mention of Bunta. Were he speaking to most any other member of the student population, he'd laugh, make some excuse about how entertaining late-night television actually was. "It doesn't work that way," he said instead. Even if he wished it did.
Niou raised an eyebrow (– finding it interesting to note that to him, unlike most people, Fuji didn’t actually look much bigger from this perspective, his body-language was so benign). “What doesn’t work how?”
Fuji sighed and sat on the floor, cross-legged, since it didn't seem Niou was going to get up anytime soon. "... getting him back," he explained. "You can't just walk in the front door and bring him back here."
Niou frowned. And this was his second minor annoyance – Bunta, fine. He was happy enough that the idiot wasn’t dead. But Fuji? Honestly, he’d thought the pink mutant was smarter than that, and definitely hadn’t picked him for the moping type, even a little.
"He won't listen," Fuji clarified. "You know that." He'd called Bunta a few times now, asking when he'd be back. The answer didn't vary much. 'We'll see', or 'when I'm ready'. In recent days Fuji had all but given up on expecting his return at all; there wasn't any real reason for Bunta to stay.
“What the hell,” Niou rolled his eyes. Since when had Fuji been so damned dense? He sat up, cross-legged and knee to knee with the other boy. “He’s never listened. You should know that.”
"I know," Fuji chuckled, dropping his eyes again. "Which means he isn't coming back." He'd do what he wanted. Fuji'd only hoped that Bunta was unpredictable enough to show up, maybe in the middle of the night, maybe by sneaking through the back door leading into the rec room. Maybe while Fuji was watching bad late-night television.
…stupid. Just unbelievably, undeniably stupid. Niou sent a fist into the side of Fuji’s jaw. Carefully unphased, definitely solid. “Stop grinning like a goddamned shrunken skull.”
"Alright." Lashes lifted, eyes hardened to a cool blue, unblinking. Fuji willed the energy rising in him to calm; Niou was not an enemy, no matter how he chose to express his allegiance. He sat back on his palms. "Tell me, then, Niou-san. What would you suggest?"
“Oh, let’s see,” Niou snerked, gold gaze against Fuji’s own as he mirrored the other’s posture, just as hard, just as uncompromising. “Nothing so complex. We walk in the front door and bring him back here.”
"He's not going to come with," Fuji reiterated. "You can't convince him." Yumiko had said as much, months ago. The one you care most about ... He shook his head, a laugh bubbling through his lips. "Though you're welcome to try."
The words were barely out when Niou struck him again – hard enough to split a lip. “I would appreciate it if you would stop laughing, Fuji-san.” It was very finally-toned laughter, and very, very irritating – especially when Fuji thought he knew it all. “You’re built like a girl, so perhaps I’ll forgive you this small oversight: talking does not solve everything.”
Fuji touched a cool finger to his mouth, noting the thin film of blood that came away with it. "You're planning on hitting him, too?"
“Tell me he’s been any less stupid than you,” Niou said, “And maybe I’ll consider changing my course of action.”
Not less stupid. Quite possibly more stupid. Fuji fought back the grin that threatened to spread across his face. It would force Bunta to listen ... "At least tell me that you weren't planning on going alone."
“If I’d been set on it, you wouldn’t’ve seen me leave <3” Niou chuckled (most ungraceful entrance aside for now). His eyes narrowed. And I wouldn’t have waited this long for you to do something first. “I take it you want in?”
If it would bring him back ... "Yes."
Fuji didn't know when he'd gotten so attached to Bunta. Obviously it had happened over the course of months, but how the relationship had progressed from teasing and casual intimacy to being deeply concerned about his welfare was still a mystery. It hardly mattered now, with the prospect of his return becoming more tangible by the second. "When do we leave?"
Niou shrugged a shoulder in mock elegance and stood. “No time like the present, wouldn’t you say?” It’s not like they needed to plan for something like this, and both of them knew the Brotherhood complex well enough anyway.
He eyed his own t-shirt and boxers. “Though maybe a change of clothes would be in order <3” Pyjamas were so not the outdoor winter gear of choice.
"I'll meet you back here in ten minutes," Fuji stated. That should give him enough time to clean the blood off his lip (he never would have suspected that coming) and get dressed.
“Consider it done.”
[[ After this: in short, they made it unseen: Fuji confronted Bunta in the kitchen, Bunta ended up stabbing at Fuji and gashed Fuji’s arm. Niou knocked Fuji out, then Bunta, too. And then asked Yagyuu to help him carry the bodies back to Ryuhana. Something will be posted to detail that soon. ; ]]
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