RP Log: Jiroh, Niou, Ryoma
Jan. 30th, 2006 01:42 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
perfect-synch.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenipuri_xpDate: Early this morning (Monday 1/30)
Rating: PG-13ish for naked Ryoma, R for some language
Summary: Jiroh uses a new aspect of his power to possess Niou's body and barge in on Ryoma's early-morning bath. >>;;
As Jiroh floated gently towards his body he came to the conclusion that the common room couch was most definitely more comfortable than his bed, despite the obvious lack of racecar sheets and matching pillows. He was willing to overlook this infraction, so long as his spot on the three-person couch stayed in his possession. Jiroh opened his eyes slowly and sat up, stretching his back languidly. Another unsuccessful adventure, if the lack of interesting dreams was any indication. For some odd reason, Jiroh was not in the mood to watch his classmates run away from giant flesh-eating spiders today.
He scratched his head groggily and tried to shake off the drowsiness. What time was it? His internal clock told him he'd been off wandering for several hours. It must be early morning by now, he calculated. Which meant it was time to...uh, something. Time to do something? He wondered briefly why he had the distinct notion that he'd had an important event planned for today, though he couldn't quite remember what it was. Jiroh stumbled to his feet and began to make his way towards the kitchen, certain that a snack would refresh his memory.
Meanwhile, one floor up, Niou was entertaining Shadow. It wasn’t hard, really. The kid was easily amused, though it required constant attention. The trick was to keep him quiet – which wasn’t so easy at five in the morning.
It was at such times that a little gaffer tape went a long way.
At least the bathroom was empty at five in the morning, Ryoma thought, yawning behind one hand and turning on the water for the tub. He didn't like being in here when it was crowded, so as long as he was up early he'd started taking most of his baths early in the morning right after he woke up. Niou'd offered to keep Shadow entertained (and hopefully quiet), so Ryoma could at least take a little while in here before he had to go back and get ready for class. Waiting until the tub was full, he turned off the water and threw in some bath salt before sinking in.
Jiroh bit into his sandwich, chewing tiredly as he wracked his brains looking for today's plans. He was halfway through the second half of his snack when it hit him--today was the day he was going to formally offer his babysitting services to Niou and Ryoma. That was assuming, of course, that his sempai were serious about having a baby and all. Jiroh had heard all the rumours, and just the day before he'd overheard someone mentioning how much the baby took after its father...s. Definitely an event for him to look into, he decided. Suddenly very pleased with his memory recall, Jiroh dropped his food and bounced out of the kitchen.
He supposed it was duty as Ryoma-kun's official fan club president to make sure he was always available to help. Jiroh was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to unveil the fanclub buttons, but he had run out of black crayons for Ryoma's hair after scribbling over Niou's face so often. It could wait, he decided. For now he'd just fulfil his duties by being as helpful as he possibly could.
By the time he reached the door of Niou and Ryoma's joined room, Jiroh was beginning to tire from the physical exertion involved in walking up one floor. My leg hurts, he complained to himself, and frowned. Floating up here would have been so much easier, except that he wouldn't have been able to hold the baby or teach it how tot play legos in his ghost form. Assuming there actually was a baby--he was still skeptical about something that sounded too good to be true.
Jiroh listened carefully and heard it--there!--the unmistakable cry of a child asking only for his dear Uncle Jiroh.
"Waitwait, baby-kun." he said determinedly, and knocked on the door. "I'm coming~!"
Niou just stared. He’d heard the footsteps, and frankly not many people strayed up to the third floor. Baby-kun..? Out of a voice that unmistakably belonged to one Akutagawa Jirou, no less. Bugger. Niou wasn’t sure whether he should be happier that Ryoma was out of the room or not. “Door’s not locked,” he said, standing. Shadow was perched on his shoulders, pretending to be an aeroplane; Niou was glad the baby never filled his nappy. Or lack thereof.
Jiroh bounded into the room, smiling ecstatically. Babybabybabywhee!babybaby... Niou?
"What are you doing here?" He asked abruptly, and pouted. He scanned the room quickly. No signs of Ryoma, unless you counted the ridiculously adorable mini-Ryoma perched on Niou's shoulders. Jiroh stared at it in fascination as it gurgled and dribbled its way into his heart.
“This is my room, you know,” Niou said, raising an eyebrow. They’d moved a bed in, and given him a desk – so now there was two of everything as normal for double rooms, but half of it was still unused. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that the cat had a bed to itself.
“What’re you doing here?”
"I dunno. I um...I dunno?" Jiroh shrugged and shuffled his feet. It wasn't really any of Niou's business what he was doing there, after all. Although he had come for the baby, and the baby was here...Jiroh's hands began to twitch longingly. He wanted to hold it so, so, so badly. Maybe he could even feed it....yes...weaning the baby with pocky....but first he figured he should get Ryoma's permission. After all, Ryoma got mad at him for doing stuff without asking. So maybe...maybe if he asked first, Ryoma would be glad he asked. And then be happy. And then let Jiroh hold Baby! And then...! Jiroh's brain exploded inside with sparkles and glitter and shiny things.
Today was going to be a very special adventure day--he could feel it already. "I hafta talk to Ryoma," He decided, and looked around the room again, as if Ryoma would magically be there now. Ryoma had spent so much time recently in the room, and Jiroh was sad now that the one time he did visit, Ryoma was nowhere to be found. He turned to Niou and glared daggers (though he didn't want to scare Baby, so Jiroh softened it and glared butterknives instead). "Where did you hide him? I need him!"
It was a very wrong declaration to hear from Jirou’s mouth. “You do not,” Niou said, and bent over, catching Shadow as he fell from his shoulders (with what the phaser interpreted as a squeal of delight). “He’s having a bath.”
Shadow gahdah’d incoherently a little and made wet grabbyhands for Jirou’s hair. Which apparently looked shiny, though Niou thought it could do with a comb.
A shy smile reached Jiroh's lips as he patted Baby's head gently, even though it was making strange garbled noises in his direction. Hee, Ryoma in the bath. Jiroh had an image in his head--a particularly strange image that made his cheeks flush. If he was to ask Ryoma about the baby, he would have to approach him in the bathroom, wouldn't he?
Jiroh had to admit he did want to know whether or not Ryoma was using the bath salts he'd given him for Christmas. However, Ryoma would probably throw soap at his head if he went in now. But Jiroh didn't want to wait.
Now faced with this dilemma, Jiroh pondered his situation. Presumably the only person Ryoma wouldn't throw soap at was Niou-kun (Jiroh didn't like it but it was the truth), but that would mean sending Niou with a message or...or something. Unless Jiroh could somehow magically look like Niou. But that would involve being a shiny person like Bunta-kun-sempai, or wearing some sort of mask, or even...
Jiroh let his smile widen into a full grin as he looked critically over Niou. It could work, maybe. If he tried hard enough...if he distracted Niou.... "Ne, Niou-kun," Jiroh said slyly. "Wanna see something cool?"
“…” Niou said with a suspicious eye. Jirou didn’t smile in his presence – he pouted. Unless Ryoma was there, too – which he wasn’t. That could only mean the blonde haired brat was up to something. Niou didn’t know what, but he wasn’t about to look away no matter how cool whatever it was supposedly was. “Not particularly.”
Jiroh shrugged lightly, and continued to hold on to Niou's eyes. He'd only done this once before, by accident--but he was certain he could do it again, maybe if he tried really, really hard.
He let his body relax, slowly, allowing his mind to focus entirely on keeping Niou's gaze. He felt the tingle in the back of his eye, the itch that was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He recognized it as the first sign, the indicator that his powers were working. Jiroh took a deep breath and envisioned himself leaping, stretching his body and pushing with his legs to jump up and out--he pictured himself moving through the air and covering the few feet between he and Niou, all the while urging himself to actually do it. There--he'd established the connection. It was rough, and wouldn't last long. Jiroh exhaled, fast, and his mind took a flying leap outside of his head.
It was an awful feeling, really; like he was ripping his soul from his own body. Though in theory, he sort of was. For a moment he wondered if he would miss, if he would sail over Niou's head and through the wall. Instead he experienced the soft ripple of his spirit connecting to Niou's body.
Jiroh's consciousness thrummed gently as he felt Niou's muscles twitching, adjusting to the invasion. Jiroh realized he suddenly felt very different: older, stronger, but slower. Niou's body was much more healthy than his own, and so much taller. It was like everything in the room had suddenly become so much smaller in comparison. Ne, Niou-kun, he said silently, knowing that the older mutant could hear him, do you work out?
No, I don’t, Niou returned conversationally – for once actually proud of the ability to keep his voice controlled. He was used to mind!talking to Ryoma, so that wasn’t a big issue, but What The Hell. He did not have a link with Jirou and didn’t want one. He wanted to twitch but couldn’t – and that was worse. He was not used to giving up control of his body for anything.
His eyes watched as Jirou’s own body hit the floor like a sack of bricks.
…which, his brain processed, lead to the logical conclusion that he was currently being possessed. Jirou's powers dealt with the subconscious after all, and it was even easier to expand upon the possibilities –
Chalk up another onedozen against the Why Niou Dislikes Akutagawa score. The brat’d better not screw anything up.
Jiroh wiggled a bit, getting used to the feel of Niou's body and the way it moved. It felt colder than his, and slower. Jiroh reached up and grabbed the back of Niou's head, fingering the mullet pulled into a ponytail. He sure did have a lot of hair. "So what's a mind-link? I can hear what you're thinking you know. Does that mean you can talk to Ryoma without saying stuff out loud?" He said, and then laughed. It sounded like Niou, but talked like him. It was strange--but kind of cool.
And that small round was twenty-five more strikes for each word. Niou did not speak with that kind of lilt – his teasing did not sound like a grade-schooler’s. God fucking damn—
And, no. He was not going to answer that question. Closing off, Niou became the passive observer he was while in trance mode, emptying the one thing he did have control of into a thoughtless daydream. If Jirou could read his mind, then he’d give him blank pages.
Jiroh looked down at the baby, who was wriggling its way over to where his body lay. Jiroh grinned. Not good to leave babies alone, nopenope. But if he left the baby with himself, it was safe. So long as he closed the door so it didn't run away. Jiroh waved goodbye and exited, determined to corner Ryoma in the bathroom. Far away in his mind was his original plan to ask Ryoma for babysitting permission--now that he was Niou, he could ask anything he wanted. Ryoma would talk to Niou. He would tell him things Jiroh had always wondered but never worked up the courage to ask.
He paused briefly outside the bathroom and wondered if he should knock--they were shared bathrooms, after all, but it was only polite. Jiroh shook off his hesitation. He was Niou, now; Niou didn't hesitate, did he? And there was certainly nothing wrong with barging in on the person you were married to while they were in the bath...
Hee, thought Jiroh gleefully, I'm sort-of married to Ryoma!
He cracked open the door and poked Niou's head in to make sure Ryoma was still there, and the only one around. It wouldn't do to be walked in on. Stealthily he snuck in and waited to see if Ryoma would reply to the entrance of someone else.
Ryoma didn't need to hear the door open and close to know that Niou had decided to join him - kind of strange, actually, given that he didn't hear Shadow's incessant babbling, nor did he have any idea of what Niou might be up to. He glanced up and over his shoulder through the thick air, raising one questioning eyebrow in the direction of the tall, lanky figure standing just inside the doorway. No baby - well, whatever. Shadow would obviously be fine for a few minutes. Karupin could keep him in check.
"S'this a visit with a purpose, or just making sure I didn't drown?" he asked, a lazy smirk sliding across his features as he turned in the water, folding his arms over the porcelain of the tub's side and resting his chin atop them. "I haven't been gone that long, you know."
For a moment Jiroh couldn't respond. He was too busy staring in alarm at the shirtless--no, naked Ryoma in front of him. He mind-poked Niou, gently, but received no response. Niou was probably mad at him, and ignoring everything. Oh well, it couldn't be helped...
"Just coming to check on you, yeah." He said, trying to keep his voice calm. He wasn't stupid; Ryoma would know he wasn't really Niou if he talked like he normally did. It was a challenge to sound like Niou, even if he did speak with Niou's voice now. Wait--he had to say something Niou would most definitely say. Hastily, he added, "Is it a crime to visit my teddycat? ......<3?" Forcing a lopsided grin, Jiroh loped over to where Ryoma was looking at him from the bathtub. At least, he hoped Niou had a tendency to lope. This is harder than I thought, Jiroh whined. Niou still wasn't responding, nor was he thinking about anything particularly interesting.
He glanced down at Ryoma, and swallowed thickly. No bad thoughts, no bad thoughts... There was a strange pressure in his brain, as he blushed slightly. And he was dimly aware of something thick dripping from his nose onto the bathroom tiles. He caught some of it, and stared in surprise as a nosebleed made its way down his face.
The phaser’s backseat-relegated consciousness could not stand for that. Snapping out of his blank, Niou aimed the biggest psychological kick he could muster at Jirou’s centre of consciousness (quite past wondering if it’d work). Fuck, you little bastard-! Stealing his body was one thing – subjecting it to something so undignified was something else entirely.
Well, someone was very... chipper this morning. Ryoma was about to make some snide remark regarding that when actually looked - and realized Niou was bleeding. Expression immediately turning into a frown, he pushed off the side of the tub, scooting over and grabbing his towel, tossing it at Niou's face. "What the hell happened to you?"
He leaned over the edge of the tub, pulling down on Niou's shirt to bring the other to eye-level. "Thought you just threw up when you went through the - well, 'cept you didn't go through the door." And Niou hadn't gotten sick from a phase in months now. "What, did you let Shadow punch you?" The idea was more than a little amusing. It didn't look very serious, anyway - no cuts or anything (not that Niou would have them, he thought, peering at the other's face) - just his nose.
Jiroh managed to wipe most of the blood away with the towel, but not before pausing to give it an experimental sniff. R-Ryoma's towel... He even managed, in his state of pure stalker bliss, to ignore the enraged cries of his victim. Jiroh mindpoked Niou, hard. Shh~ I'm busy!
It took him a moment to realize how close he was to Ryoma's face. In fact, they were staring straight at one another. Jiroh fought the onslaught of another nosebleed by pinching his nose and managed to talk. He nearly giggled at the sound of Niou's nasal voice, but thought better of it. Niou did not giggle.
"I was thinking, uh, <3 That maybe we could <3 let Jiroh-kun <3 babysit the..baby." He managed a grin, trying to look as Niou-ish as he possibly could. "Oops~ did I take your towel?"
Ryoma blinked, glancing at the other suspiciously. Niou sounded... kind of strange, and it wasn't just from pinching his nose. To have "uh" and "..." in the same sentence so... out of context was definitely weird. He also hadn't answered Ryoma's question, either, but he supposed that wasn't completely unusual in and of itself. And the power signature was Niou - it didn't feel like Yagyuu-as-Niou, at least. He did feel Jiroh, come to think of it - but his signature was fainter. Made sense if he was in their room, which meant -
"Jiroh? Take care of Shadow? Think it'd prolly be the other way around." Well. Jiroh couldn't possibly kill him, Ryoma supposed, considering Shadow wasn't technically alive in the first place. In fact, maybe that was why Niou was here at all - if Jiroh'd barged in, it would explain Niou's not wanting to be there, Ryoma supposed with a bit of an amused smirk.
"Guess it's okay for a little bit," he affirmed with a languid shrug, then glanced down at the bloody towel in Niou's hand. "And yeah. You did." And he was expecting a new one - or something that would do just as well - or he was not going out into the hall, regardless of how early in the morning it was. "You'd better do something about that," he said smugly, rubbing the tip of Niou's nose lightly with one finger to get the last dark red smudge off. At least the bleeding had stopped, however it had started in the first place.
Jiroh's mind was a tangle of happy thoughts, bad thoughts, and very very bad thoughts. Part of him wanted to lunge out and just touch Ryoma, but the other part of him knew that if he did, he'd get in trouble.
Mostly because he only had about 56 seconds left in Niou's body.
He could feel his energy draining slowly. The effort of staying inside Niou while he was awake was much more tiring than it would be if he'd entered him during a sleeping state. Still, Ryoma had given him permission (sort of) to babysit, which had been his original plan. He figured he was done here for now.
Once Ryoma's finger broke contact, Jiroh shivered. Ryoma had touched him tenderly--well technically it wasn't him, but Jiroh was the one experiencing it--and it had been the best moment of his life. He wrinkled Niou's nose. "Hee," Jiroh giggled, and then slapped Niou's hand over his mouth in alarm. "I mean, um, <3?"
Ryoma blinked, peering into Niou's eyes suspiciously. What the hell? Niou had just giggled. Something really was up - if he didn't know better, he'd say Niou was acting like Jiroh, but that didn't make any sense. He knew Niou was good at impressions - and also acting strangely - but this... was kind of seeming like it went beyond the normal realm of both of those. And the bloody nose - he just didn't get it.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, pinning the other with a hard stare - this time he wasn't going to let Niou avoid the question. "Something is wrong." Because that was obvious by now.
Jiroh stared back, and scrambled away quickly.
"I'm fine. <3 I'm awesome. <3 Nothing to worry about here, nopenope! I mean uhh...;D?" He had only seconds to spare. "I gotta go~" He said, and dashed from the bathroom, bloody towel in hand. Even though it had Niou-blood on it, the towel belonged to Ryoma.
All he had to do was wash it and then add it to his Ryoma shrine. But that would come later--for now he had to make a quick escape and get back to his body, for another quick escape. Niou wasn't going to be very happy when he got back control of his own body.
He dashed back into Ryoma and Niou's room, his mind already feeling sluggish and unresponsive. He flung the towel onto the floor next to his body, just close enough to grab.
He looked down at his head and noticed the baby had had its way--it was chewing happily on his earlobe, a disgusting trail of slimy saliva running up along his face, hair, and chest. His forehead was covered in itsy bitsy bite marks--proof that the baby had chosen to start teething on him, of all people. Jiroh pouted and threw his hands up in defeat. He just couldn't win.
Any second now...
There was an uncomfortable shift in his vision as his mind detached from Niou's. Immediately he was flung forward, hurtling outside of Niou's brain and into the room. He shook his head to clear the confusion of being ripped from Niou so abruptly. Without wasting another moment, Jiroh dove tiredly into his own body.
At first he felt wet, and then he felt dizzy. Combined with the presence of a little person nibbling on his nose, Jiroh decided he was not very pleased at all. His head pounded painfully, and the gooey saliva slipped into his nose. He snort-choked it out and pushed away the baby gently. Remembering the other person in the room, Jiroh cracked an eye open to look at Niou warily.
The phaser was dead irate. He was sure his eyes hadn’t been so glary since bacterial conjunctivitis in grade school – god, the sheer——
In short: he had no words.
(Almost.)
“What the fuck, brat?!” he yelled. Oh sure, Akutagawa looked bad, thanks to Shadow, but not bad enough. Not bad enough by a long shot.
Stepping up, Niou planted a foot on Ryoma’s towel (oh, he’d heard why Jirou wanted it – thought sharing went both ways), fingers twitching for the darts he (unfortunately) didn’t carry first thing in the morning. He knelt instead, a hand clamping to Jirou’s neck and forcing him up to his feet. “Give me one. Good. Reason. I shouldn’t defenestrate you right here, right now.”
Bunta had broken one arm falling one storey. With any luck, Jirou would break not only his face, liver, spleen and kidneys, but also the vital organs of his grandparents three generations back.
Jiroh gasped, his head reeling from the force of being dragged upwards. He stared in surprise as Niou's face contorted (in a rather unflattering way) with rage.
He stammered something unintelligible and managed to squirm away from Niou. His lower lip trembled dangerously--it was rare that he got yelled at. Even still, Jiroh stood by the fact that he hadn't really done anything except bloody up Niou's clothing. And maybe violate every human right known to man.
But really, what was wrong with a good-natured possession between friends? "I--I didn't mean anything..." Jiroh babbled, dragging himself across the carpet towards the door. He couldn't really see straight, and doubted he'd be able to make it very far if he'd tried to run. He wiped drool from his eyes and backed up further. "I don't even know what def..str..that word means!" He cried, and fumbled up above his head for the doorknob. "P-p-please, d-don't eat me!"
“I wouldn’t eat you if you were the last ghost on the planet,” Niou scowled, wishing, for once, that he wore shoes inside. Yeah – those selfsame shoes Jirou had found it funny to appropriate and string to a tree a few months ago. Because right now, his hands were really itching for something to throw. Jirou’s head looked an awful lot like a drool-covered golden fleece which he wouldn’t mind putting through a spinning wheel.
Now that he knew Niou wasn't going to rip his head off and feed upon his virgin soul, Jiroh relaxed. Of course there was still the danger of being kicked in the face, but Jiroh knew Niou wouldn't actually do that.
"Well um, I'm just, um, gonna run away now," Jiroh said, slowly cracking open the door. Any minute now Niou was going to decide he really did crave souls, and Jiroh certainly did not want to be around for that. "I'm reallyreally sorry..." Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled out of the room and into the hall, falling into a heap. He only prayed Niou wouldn't follow.
Now, to make his way back to his own room and perhaps hide forever...but why was everything so fuzzy and whirly?
He shook it off and made his way quickly down the hall, trying to ignore his tendency to bump into the wall. He spotted the stairs up ahead and made a beeline for them. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw someone, and panicked; Niou was definitely after him. He stopped and backed against the wall, his heart beating unnaturally fast. Immediately he had images of Niou cutting his hair and stealing his shoes--horrible, awful images that nearly made him cry. He threw up his arms in front of his face and waited for the end.
"No, don't do it, Niou! I promise I'll be good!"
As if the madness of Niou's sudden personality shift and even-more-sudden exit wasn't enough, less than a minute later Ryoma heard something even weirder. The phaser was yelling. What the hell?
That was it. Something was more than a little wrong - something was very wrong, and the only way to figure it out was to go find out himself. Only there was one problem: he still had no freaking towel. Screw it, he thought, yanking the plug and pulling himself to his feet, careful not to slip on the wet tile as he stepped out of the tub - slipping and splitting his skull now was not in the plan.
He struggled with his clothes, aware that they were cold and soaked and sticking to him and this was not at all pleasant. Stumbling out of the bathroom, also aware that he was leaving a trail of water behind him, he headed for their room, glad for the much better traction of the carpet. But then the door opened and Jiroh stumbled out, making it halfway down the hall only to stop, back against the wall, and throw his arms over his face.
At the other’s outburst Ryoma stopped dead. He had to have something to do with this. And he wasn't sure what - but it was getting harder and harder to try and deny the sinking feeling that... somehow that hadn't been Niou he'd been talking to a moment ago. He didn't even know if Jiroh could do that - but it hardly mattered right now.
"What did you do."
Jiroh paused, and peeked between his arms. Ryoma! He thought gleefully. Then he got a cold chill down his back. Do? He hadn't done anything...really...well nothing bad...sort of.
"I...I...didn't do it!...I mean..." He stared at Ryoma, vaguely aware that his clothing was...sticking. To him. In places that clothes should not stick, but they were, and it was dripping, and his hair was shiny, and oh. Wow.
There was a spattering noise. Jiroh glanced down, startled to see a red splotch on the floor. Did I do that? He brought a hand up to his nose and caught another one, feeling his face flushing red. Blood continued to drip steadily out his nose as he backed away from Ryoma, feeling incredibly embarrassed. He turned around and dashed off, clumsily; he nearly tripped down the stairs but made it, thanks to some extreme stroke of luck.
As he scrambled dizzily down the staircase, Jiroh wondered if he was ever going to make it out alive. Surely Niou was going to hunt him down and bite him--or something--but he couldn't help but grin in spite of all the trouble he was in. It had most definitely been worth it.
... "Fuck." Jiroh's nosebleed and subsequent escape was more than enough to place the blame for the past ten minutes squarely on his head. Ryoma spun and made it back to their room in seconds, pulling open the door harder than he'd meant to.
Niou looked all right (even if his shirt was still bloody), albeit angry. Which was odd, Ryoma's mind managed to register, given that he didn't look angry very often. He'd only seen Niou close to angry once before, and that had been a completely different sort of mad. Right now, though, Ryoma was about as irate as Niou looked, having pretty much pieced together what must have happened. Or at least some scenario relatively close to the truth.
"What exactly did he do?"
Niou’s frown deepened, lips pursed for a moment. Okay, so his pride had a slight problem with admitting that, ‘A kid with the mental capacity of a ten year old just took my body for a joyride.’ But Ryoma needed to know. Jirou, for all his state of mind, was (lightly put) fucking dangerous. “…possession,” he said at last, and turned on heel, heading back to the middle of the floor where Shadow was chewing dejectedly on the carpet. “Brat does that again, and I will gouge his eyes out, slice them up and feed them to Horio in microwave-cut slivers.”
He pulled the toddler into his lap, giving him his own thumb to chew on instead, ruffling the black mullet with his other hand. “You did well, buddy <3”
For once, Ryoma wished he hadn't gotten it so dead-on. "Figured," he said, nodding at Niou's threat. "Wouldn’t blame you." He was getting angrier by the second, as he stopped thinking about the hows and realized exactly what Jiroh had done. Echizen Ryoma's baths were not for public viewing, but worse than that, Jiroh had intentionally possessed Niou, and he could've done much worse damage to either or both of them than stare at Ryoma in the bathroom. Not that the thought of that hadn't been bad.
Niou shrugged. Alternatively, I could just never look at him again, he thought. Proofless, but he was pretty sure that Jirou needed eye contact to… invade. It’d felt extremely deliberate, and— “…yeah.”
He gave Shadow a happy smile in return for one covered in drool. “I’ll make his training hell." The smile turned to Ryoma. "With your permission, of course? <3”
Glancing at Niou, Ryoma nodded. Niou was more than welcome to do whatever he saw fit. "F'he tries it again, he'll have more to worry about than his training."
But wait. If Jiroh had possessed Niou, then shouldn't he have felt Jiroh too? Well - he had. He'd just thought he was in their room. That's what it'd felt like, anyway. And from the looks of things, that was where Jiroh had left his body - but Ryoma could synch Jiroh in spirit form as well, so why hadn't he...? Ryoma frowned. Maybe he had, but the feeling of Niou had just been too much stronger? He really had no idea - but then, this wasn't exactly an experiment he cared to repeat. If he had to maintain telepathic shields around Niou, he would - though that was definitely not the optimal solution.
"Damn." He sighed, but there wasn't much else they could do right now. Jiroh had gotten away, and he was in bad enough condition to (hopefully) not try anything like that again for now. It looked like Ryoma'd also been right about another thing: namely that Shadow had apparently "taken care of" Jiroh in at least some way.
And he was cold - still dripping he padded carefully across the room, digging for a clean towel before peeling off his mostly-soaked shirt and drying off his hair and torso. **For the record, I obviously don't care if you ever wanna join me, but let me know this way in advance. Failsafe - m'assuming you couldn't or you woulda told me.**
Niou snerked. **Think being strapped into the back seat of a car.** – when he was the one with the license, and the hijacker wasn’t even old enough to drive – **I’ve never had a blood nose in my life until today, if that’s any clue.** Cue wince. **I don’t giggle. I don’t use doors. I don’t ‘um’.**
…a small smirk came along. Depositing Shadow on the bed, Niou stripped of his own red-spattered shirt, dumping it in the laundry basket on the way over. Tapping a pale finger at Ryoma’s bare chest, he leaned down a little for a not-so-light kiss. **I would’ve done more than just stare~**
**Well I thought maybe Shadow'd punched you. And I know you don't giggle an' stuff, but I wasn't exactly expecting Jiroh t'be looking like you. 'You' left right when I realized.** He'd figured it out, but one step too late - his own damn fault, really, but next time (if there was a next time, which really, there'd better not be) he'd be on his toes.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said smugly, poking Niou lightly in the stomach as he reluctantly broke away after a moment to wipe wet bangs out of his face and finish towelling off his hair before it kept dripping down his back. He was going to have to deal with Jiroh - that was for sure - but right now, there wasn't much else he could do. Except lock the bathroom door that early in the morning from now on.
Rating: PG-13ish for naked Ryoma, R for some language
Summary: Jiroh uses a new aspect of his power to possess Niou's body and barge in on Ryoma's early-morning bath. >>;;
As Jiroh floated gently towards his body he came to the conclusion that the common room couch was most definitely more comfortable than his bed, despite the obvious lack of racecar sheets and matching pillows. He was willing to overlook this infraction, so long as his spot on the three-person couch stayed in his possession. Jiroh opened his eyes slowly and sat up, stretching his back languidly. Another unsuccessful adventure, if the lack of interesting dreams was any indication. For some odd reason, Jiroh was not in the mood to watch his classmates run away from giant flesh-eating spiders today.
He scratched his head groggily and tried to shake off the drowsiness. What time was it? His internal clock told him he'd been off wandering for several hours. It must be early morning by now, he calculated. Which meant it was time to...uh, something. Time to do something? He wondered briefly why he had the distinct notion that he'd had an important event planned for today, though he couldn't quite remember what it was. Jiroh stumbled to his feet and began to make his way towards the kitchen, certain that a snack would refresh his memory.
Meanwhile, one floor up, Niou was entertaining Shadow. It wasn’t hard, really. The kid was easily amused, though it required constant attention. The trick was to keep him quiet – which wasn’t so easy at five in the morning.
It was at such times that a little gaffer tape went a long way.
At least the bathroom was empty at five in the morning, Ryoma thought, yawning behind one hand and turning on the water for the tub. He didn't like being in here when it was crowded, so as long as he was up early he'd started taking most of his baths early in the morning right after he woke up. Niou'd offered to keep Shadow entertained (and hopefully quiet), so Ryoma could at least take a little while in here before he had to go back and get ready for class. Waiting until the tub was full, he turned off the water and threw in some bath salt before sinking in.
Jiroh bit into his sandwich, chewing tiredly as he wracked his brains looking for today's plans. He was halfway through the second half of his snack when it hit him--today was the day he was going to formally offer his babysitting services to Niou and Ryoma. That was assuming, of course, that his sempai were serious about having a baby and all. Jiroh had heard all the rumours, and just the day before he'd overheard someone mentioning how much the baby took after its father...s. Definitely an event for him to look into, he decided. Suddenly very pleased with his memory recall, Jiroh dropped his food and bounced out of the kitchen.
He supposed it was duty as Ryoma-kun's official fan club president to make sure he was always available to help. Jiroh was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to unveil the fanclub buttons, but he had run out of black crayons for Ryoma's hair after scribbling over Niou's face so often. It could wait, he decided. For now he'd just fulfil his duties by being as helpful as he possibly could.
By the time he reached the door of Niou and Ryoma's joined room, Jiroh was beginning to tire from the physical exertion involved in walking up one floor. My leg hurts, he complained to himself, and frowned. Floating up here would have been so much easier, except that he wouldn't have been able to hold the baby or teach it how tot play legos in his ghost form. Assuming there actually was a baby--he was still skeptical about something that sounded too good to be true.
Jiroh listened carefully and heard it--there!--the unmistakable cry of a child asking only for his dear Uncle Jiroh.
"Waitwait, baby-kun." he said determinedly, and knocked on the door. "I'm coming~!"
Niou just stared. He’d heard the footsteps, and frankly not many people strayed up to the third floor. Baby-kun..? Out of a voice that unmistakably belonged to one Akutagawa Jirou, no less. Bugger. Niou wasn’t sure whether he should be happier that Ryoma was out of the room or not. “Door’s not locked,” he said, standing. Shadow was perched on his shoulders, pretending to be an aeroplane; Niou was glad the baby never filled his nappy. Or lack thereof.
Jiroh bounded into the room, smiling ecstatically. Babybabybabywhee!babybaby... Niou?
"What are you doing here?" He asked abruptly, and pouted. He scanned the room quickly. No signs of Ryoma, unless you counted the ridiculously adorable mini-Ryoma perched on Niou's shoulders. Jiroh stared at it in fascination as it gurgled and dribbled its way into his heart.
“This is my room, you know,” Niou said, raising an eyebrow. They’d moved a bed in, and given him a desk – so now there was two of everything as normal for double rooms, but half of it was still unused. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that the cat had a bed to itself.
“What’re you doing here?”
"I dunno. I um...I dunno?" Jiroh shrugged and shuffled his feet. It wasn't really any of Niou's business what he was doing there, after all. Although he had come for the baby, and the baby was here...Jiroh's hands began to twitch longingly. He wanted to hold it so, so, so badly. Maybe he could even feed it....yes...weaning the baby with pocky....but first he figured he should get Ryoma's permission. After all, Ryoma got mad at him for doing stuff without asking. So maybe...maybe if he asked first, Ryoma would be glad he asked. And then be happy. And then let Jiroh hold Baby! And then...! Jiroh's brain exploded inside with sparkles and glitter and shiny things.
Today was going to be a very special adventure day--he could feel it already. "I hafta talk to Ryoma," He decided, and looked around the room again, as if Ryoma would magically be there now. Ryoma had spent so much time recently in the room, and Jiroh was sad now that the one time he did visit, Ryoma was nowhere to be found. He turned to Niou and glared daggers (though he didn't want to scare Baby, so Jiroh softened it and glared butterknives instead). "Where did you hide him? I need him!"
It was a very wrong declaration to hear from Jirou’s mouth. “You do not,” Niou said, and bent over, catching Shadow as he fell from his shoulders (with what the phaser interpreted as a squeal of delight). “He’s having a bath.”
Shadow gahdah’d incoherently a little and made wet grabbyhands for Jirou’s hair. Which apparently looked shiny, though Niou thought it could do with a comb.
A shy smile reached Jiroh's lips as he patted Baby's head gently, even though it was making strange garbled noises in his direction. Hee, Ryoma in the bath. Jiroh had an image in his head--a particularly strange image that made his cheeks flush. If he was to ask Ryoma about the baby, he would have to approach him in the bathroom, wouldn't he?
Jiroh had to admit he did want to know whether or not Ryoma was using the bath salts he'd given him for Christmas. However, Ryoma would probably throw soap at his head if he went in now. But Jiroh didn't want to wait.
Now faced with this dilemma, Jiroh pondered his situation. Presumably the only person Ryoma wouldn't throw soap at was Niou-kun (Jiroh didn't like it but it was the truth), but that would mean sending Niou with a message or...or something. Unless Jiroh could somehow magically look like Niou. But that would involve being a shiny person like Bunta-kun-sempai, or wearing some sort of mask, or even...
Jiroh let his smile widen into a full grin as he looked critically over Niou. It could work, maybe. If he tried hard enough...if he distracted Niou.... "Ne, Niou-kun," Jiroh said slyly. "Wanna see something cool?"
“…” Niou said with a suspicious eye. Jirou didn’t smile in his presence – he pouted. Unless Ryoma was there, too – which he wasn’t. That could only mean the blonde haired brat was up to something. Niou didn’t know what, but he wasn’t about to look away no matter how cool whatever it was supposedly was. “Not particularly.”
Jiroh shrugged lightly, and continued to hold on to Niou's eyes. He'd only done this once before, by accident--but he was certain he could do it again, maybe if he tried really, really hard.
He let his body relax, slowly, allowing his mind to focus entirely on keeping Niou's gaze. He felt the tingle in the back of his eye, the itch that was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He recognized it as the first sign, the indicator that his powers were working. Jiroh took a deep breath and envisioned himself leaping, stretching his body and pushing with his legs to jump up and out--he pictured himself moving through the air and covering the few feet between he and Niou, all the while urging himself to actually do it. There--he'd established the connection. It was rough, and wouldn't last long. Jiroh exhaled, fast, and his mind took a flying leap outside of his head.
It was an awful feeling, really; like he was ripping his soul from his own body. Though in theory, he sort of was. For a moment he wondered if he would miss, if he would sail over Niou's head and through the wall. Instead he experienced the soft ripple of his spirit connecting to Niou's body.
Jiroh's consciousness thrummed gently as he felt Niou's muscles twitching, adjusting to the invasion. Jiroh realized he suddenly felt very different: older, stronger, but slower. Niou's body was much more healthy than his own, and so much taller. It was like everything in the room had suddenly become so much smaller in comparison. Ne, Niou-kun, he said silently, knowing that the older mutant could hear him, do you work out?
No, I don’t, Niou returned conversationally – for once actually proud of the ability to keep his voice controlled. He was used to mind!talking to Ryoma, so that wasn’t a big issue, but What The Hell. He did not have a link with Jirou and didn’t want one. He wanted to twitch but couldn’t – and that was worse. He was not used to giving up control of his body for anything.
His eyes watched as Jirou’s own body hit the floor like a sack of bricks.
…which, his brain processed, lead to the logical conclusion that he was currently being possessed. Jirou's powers dealt with the subconscious after all, and it was even easier to expand upon the possibilities –
Chalk up another one
Jiroh wiggled a bit, getting used to the feel of Niou's body and the way it moved. It felt colder than his, and slower. Jiroh reached up and grabbed the back of Niou's head, fingering the mullet pulled into a ponytail. He sure did have a lot of hair. "So what's a mind-link? I can hear what you're thinking you know. Does that mean you can talk to Ryoma without saying stuff out loud?" He said, and then laughed. It sounded like Niou, but talked like him. It was strange--but kind of cool.
And that small round was twenty-five more strikes for each word. Niou did not speak with that kind of lilt – his teasing did not sound like a grade-schooler’s. God fucking damn—
And, no. He was not going to answer that question. Closing off, Niou became the passive observer he was while in trance mode, emptying the one thing he did have control of into a thoughtless daydream. If Jirou could read his mind, then he’d give him blank pages.
Jiroh looked down at the baby, who was wriggling its way over to where his body lay. Jiroh grinned. Not good to leave babies alone, nopenope. But if he left the baby with himself, it was safe. So long as he closed the door so it didn't run away. Jiroh waved goodbye and exited, determined to corner Ryoma in the bathroom. Far away in his mind was his original plan to ask Ryoma for babysitting permission--now that he was Niou, he could ask anything he wanted. Ryoma would talk to Niou. He would tell him things Jiroh had always wondered but never worked up the courage to ask.
He paused briefly outside the bathroom and wondered if he should knock--they were shared bathrooms, after all, but it was only polite. Jiroh shook off his hesitation. He was Niou, now; Niou didn't hesitate, did he? And there was certainly nothing wrong with barging in on the person you were married to while they were in the bath...
Hee, thought Jiroh gleefully, I'm sort-of married to Ryoma!
He cracked open the door and poked Niou's head in to make sure Ryoma was still there, and the only one around. It wouldn't do to be walked in on. Stealthily he snuck in and waited to see if Ryoma would reply to the entrance of someone else.
Ryoma didn't need to hear the door open and close to know that Niou had decided to join him - kind of strange, actually, given that he didn't hear Shadow's incessant babbling, nor did he have any idea of what Niou might be up to. He glanced up and over his shoulder through the thick air, raising one questioning eyebrow in the direction of the tall, lanky figure standing just inside the doorway. No baby - well, whatever. Shadow would obviously be fine for a few minutes. Karupin could keep him in check.
"S'this a visit with a purpose, or just making sure I didn't drown?" he asked, a lazy smirk sliding across his features as he turned in the water, folding his arms over the porcelain of the tub's side and resting his chin atop them. "I haven't been gone that long, you know."
For a moment Jiroh couldn't respond. He was too busy staring in alarm at the shirtless--no, naked Ryoma in front of him. He mind-poked Niou, gently, but received no response. Niou was probably mad at him, and ignoring everything. Oh well, it couldn't be helped...
"Just coming to check on you, yeah." He said, trying to keep his voice calm. He wasn't stupid; Ryoma would know he wasn't really Niou if he talked like he normally did. It was a challenge to sound like Niou, even if he did speak with Niou's voice now. Wait--he had to say something Niou would most definitely say. Hastily, he added, "Is it a crime to visit my teddycat? ......<3?" Forcing a lopsided grin, Jiroh loped over to where Ryoma was looking at him from the bathtub. At least, he hoped Niou had a tendency to lope. This is harder than I thought, Jiroh whined. Niou still wasn't responding, nor was he thinking about anything particularly interesting.
He glanced down at Ryoma, and swallowed thickly. No bad thoughts, no bad thoughts... There was a strange pressure in his brain, as he blushed slightly. And he was dimly aware of something thick dripping from his nose onto the bathroom tiles. He caught some of it, and stared in surprise as a nosebleed made its way down his face.
The phaser’s backseat-relegated consciousness could not stand for that. Snapping out of his blank, Niou aimed the biggest psychological kick he could muster at Jirou’s centre of consciousness (quite past wondering if it’d work). Fuck, you little bastard-! Stealing his body was one thing – subjecting it to something so undignified was something else entirely.
Well, someone was very... chipper this morning. Ryoma was about to make some snide remark regarding that when actually looked - and realized Niou was bleeding. Expression immediately turning into a frown, he pushed off the side of the tub, scooting over and grabbing his towel, tossing it at Niou's face. "What the hell happened to you?"
He leaned over the edge of the tub, pulling down on Niou's shirt to bring the other to eye-level. "Thought you just threw up when you went through the - well, 'cept you didn't go through the door." And Niou hadn't gotten sick from a phase in months now. "What, did you let Shadow punch you?" The idea was more than a little amusing. It didn't look very serious, anyway - no cuts or anything (not that Niou would have them, he thought, peering at the other's face) - just his nose.
Jiroh managed to wipe most of the blood away with the towel, but not before pausing to give it an experimental sniff. R-Ryoma's towel... He even managed, in his state of pure stalker bliss, to ignore the enraged cries of his victim. Jiroh mindpoked Niou, hard. Shh~ I'm busy!
It took him a moment to realize how close he was to Ryoma's face. In fact, they were staring straight at one another. Jiroh fought the onslaught of another nosebleed by pinching his nose and managed to talk. He nearly giggled at the sound of Niou's nasal voice, but thought better of it. Niou did not giggle.
"I was thinking, uh, <3 That maybe we could <3 let Jiroh-kun <3 babysit the..baby." He managed a grin, trying to look as Niou-ish as he possibly could. "Oops~ did I take your towel?"
Ryoma blinked, glancing at the other suspiciously. Niou sounded... kind of strange, and it wasn't just from pinching his nose. To have "uh" and "..." in the same sentence so... out of context was definitely weird. He also hadn't answered Ryoma's question, either, but he supposed that wasn't completely unusual in and of itself. And the power signature was Niou - it didn't feel like Yagyuu-as-Niou, at least. He did feel Jiroh, come to think of it - but his signature was fainter. Made sense if he was in their room, which meant -
"Jiroh? Take care of Shadow? Think it'd prolly be the other way around." Well. Jiroh couldn't possibly kill him, Ryoma supposed, considering Shadow wasn't technically alive in the first place. In fact, maybe that was why Niou was here at all - if Jiroh'd barged in, it would explain Niou's not wanting to be there, Ryoma supposed with a bit of an amused smirk.
"Guess it's okay for a little bit," he affirmed with a languid shrug, then glanced down at the bloody towel in Niou's hand. "And yeah. You did." And he was expecting a new one - or something that would do just as well - or he was not going out into the hall, regardless of how early in the morning it was. "You'd better do something about that," he said smugly, rubbing the tip of Niou's nose lightly with one finger to get the last dark red smudge off. At least the bleeding had stopped, however it had started in the first place.
Jiroh's mind was a tangle of happy thoughts, bad thoughts, and very very bad thoughts. Part of him wanted to lunge out and just touch Ryoma, but the other part of him knew that if he did, he'd get in trouble.
Mostly because he only had about 56 seconds left in Niou's body.
He could feel his energy draining slowly. The effort of staying inside Niou while he was awake was much more tiring than it would be if he'd entered him during a sleeping state. Still, Ryoma had given him permission (sort of) to babysit, which had been his original plan. He figured he was done here for now.
Once Ryoma's finger broke contact, Jiroh shivered. Ryoma had touched him tenderly--well technically it wasn't him, but Jiroh was the one experiencing it--and it had been the best moment of his life. He wrinkled Niou's nose. "Hee," Jiroh giggled, and then slapped Niou's hand over his mouth in alarm. "I mean, um, <3?"
Ryoma blinked, peering into Niou's eyes suspiciously. What the hell? Niou had just giggled. Something really was up - if he didn't know better, he'd say Niou was acting like Jiroh, but that didn't make any sense. He knew Niou was good at impressions - and also acting strangely - but this... was kind of seeming like it went beyond the normal realm of both of those. And the bloody nose - he just didn't get it.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, pinning the other with a hard stare - this time he wasn't going to let Niou avoid the question. "Something is wrong." Because that was obvious by now.
Jiroh stared back, and scrambled away quickly.
"I'm fine. <3 I'm awesome. <3 Nothing to worry about here, nopenope! I mean uhh...;D?" He had only seconds to spare. "I gotta go~" He said, and dashed from the bathroom, bloody towel in hand. Even though it had Niou-blood on it, the towel belonged to Ryoma.
All he had to do was wash it and then add it to his Ryoma shrine. But that would come later--for now he had to make a quick escape and get back to his body, for another quick escape. Niou wasn't going to be very happy when he got back control of his own body.
He dashed back into Ryoma and Niou's room, his mind already feeling sluggish and unresponsive. He flung the towel onto the floor next to his body, just close enough to grab.
He looked down at his head and noticed the baby had had its way--it was chewing happily on his earlobe, a disgusting trail of slimy saliva running up along his face, hair, and chest. His forehead was covered in itsy bitsy bite marks--proof that the baby had chosen to start teething on him, of all people. Jiroh pouted and threw his hands up in defeat. He just couldn't win.
Any second now...
There was an uncomfortable shift in his vision as his mind detached from Niou's. Immediately he was flung forward, hurtling outside of Niou's brain and into the room. He shook his head to clear the confusion of being ripped from Niou so abruptly. Without wasting another moment, Jiroh dove tiredly into his own body.
At first he felt wet, and then he felt dizzy. Combined with the presence of a little person nibbling on his nose, Jiroh decided he was not very pleased at all. His head pounded painfully, and the gooey saliva slipped into his nose. He snort-choked it out and pushed away the baby gently. Remembering the other person in the room, Jiroh cracked an eye open to look at Niou warily.
The phaser was dead irate. He was sure his eyes hadn’t been so glary since bacterial conjunctivitis in grade school – god, the sheer——
In short: he had no words.
(Almost.)
“What the fuck, brat?!” he yelled. Oh sure, Akutagawa looked bad, thanks to Shadow, but not bad enough. Not bad enough by a long shot.
Stepping up, Niou planted a foot on Ryoma’s towel (oh, he’d heard why Jirou wanted it – thought sharing went both ways), fingers twitching for the darts he (unfortunately) didn’t carry first thing in the morning. He knelt instead, a hand clamping to Jirou’s neck and forcing him up to his feet. “Give me one. Good. Reason. I shouldn’t defenestrate you right here, right now.”
Bunta had broken one arm falling one storey. With any luck, Jirou would break not only his face, liver, spleen and kidneys, but also the vital organs of his grandparents three generations back.
Jiroh gasped, his head reeling from the force of being dragged upwards. He stared in surprise as Niou's face contorted (in a rather unflattering way) with rage.
He stammered something unintelligible and managed to squirm away from Niou. His lower lip trembled dangerously--it was rare that he got yelled at. Even still, Jiroh stood by the fact that he hadn't really done anything except bloody up Niou's clothing. And maybe violate every human right known to man.
But really, what was wrong with a good-natured possession between friends? "I--I didn't mean anything..." Jiroh babbled, dragging himself across the carpet towards the door. He couldn't really see straight, and doubted he'd be able to make it very far if he'd tried to run. He wiped drool from his eyes and backed up further. "I don't even know what def..str..that word means!" He cried, and fumbled up above his head for the doorknob. "P-p-please, d-don't eat me!"
“I wouldn’t eat you if you were the last ghost on the planet,” Niou scowled, wishing, for once, that he wore shoes inside. Yeah – those selfsame shoes Jirou had found it funny to appropriate and string to a tree a few months ago. Because right now, his hands were really itching for something to throw. Jirou’s head looked an awful lot like a drool-covered golden fleece which he wouldn’t mind putting through a spinning wheel.
Now that he knew Niou wasn't going to rip his head off and feed upon his virgin soul, Jiroh relaxed. Of course there was still the danger of being kicked in the face, but Jiroh knew Niou wouldn't actually do that.
"Well um, I'm just, um, gonna run away now," Jiroh said, slowly cracking open the door. Any minute now Niou was going to decide he really did crave souls, and Jiroh certainly did not want to be around for that. "I'm reallyreally sorry..." Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled out of the room and into the hall, falling into a heap. He only prayed Niou wouldn't follow.
Now, to make his way back to his own room and perhaps hide forever...but why was everything so fuzzy and whirly?
He shook it off and made his way quickly down the hall, trying to ignore his tendency to bump into the wall. He spotted the stairs up ahead and made a beeline for them. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw someone, and panicked; Niou was definitely after him. He stopped and backed against the wall, his heart beating unnaturally fast. Immediately he had images of Niou cutting his hair and stealing his shoes--horrible, awful images that nearly made him cry. He threw up his arms in front of his face and waited for the end.
"No, don't do it, Niou! I promise I'll be good!"
As if the madness of Niou's sudden personality shift and even-more-sudden exit wasn't enough, less than a minute later Ryoma heard something even weirder. The phaser was yelling. What the hell?
That was it. Something was more than a little wrong - something was very wrong, and the only way to figure it out was to go find out himself. Only there was one problem: he still had no freaking towel. Screw it, he thought, yanking the plug and pulling himself to his feet, careful not to slip on the wet tile as he stepped out of the tub - slipping and splitting his skull now was not in the plan.
He struggled with his clothes, aware that they were cold and soaked and sticking to him and this was not at all pleasant. Stumbling out of the bathroom, also aware that he was leaving a trail of water behind him, he headed for their room, glad for the much better traction of the carpet. But then the door opened and Jiroh stumbled out, making it halfway down the hall only to stop, back against the wall, and throw his arms over his face.
At the other’s outburst Ryoma stopped dead. He had to have something to do with this. And he wasn't sure what - but it was getting harder and harder to try and deny the sinking feeling that... somehow that hadn't been Niou he'd been talking to a moment ago. He didn't even know if Jiroh could do that - but it hardly mattered right now.
"What did you do."
Jiroh paused, and peeked between his arms. Ryoma! He thought gleefully. Then he got a cold chill down his back. Do? He hadn't done anything...really...well nothing bad...sort of.
"I...I...didn't do it!...I mean..." He stared at Ryoma, vaguely aware that his clothing was...sticking. To him. In places that clothes should not stick, but they were, and it was dripping, and his hair was shiny, and oh. Wow.
There was a spattering noise. Jiroh glanced down, startled to see a red splotch on the floor. Did I do that? He brought a hand up to his nose and caught another one, feeling his face flushing red. Blood continued to drip steadily out his nose as he backed away from Ryoma, feeling incredibly embarrassed. He turned around and dashed off, clumsily; he nearly tripped down the stairs but made it, thanks to some extreme stroke of luck.
As he scrambled dizzily down the staircase, Jiroh wondered if he was ever going to make it out alive. Surely Niou was going to hunt him down and bite him--or something--but he couldn't help but grin in spite of all the trouble he was in. It had most definitely been worth it.
... "Fuck." Jiroh's nosebleed and subsequent escape was more than enough to place the blame for the past ten minutes squarely on his head. Ryoma spun and made it back to their room in seconds, pulling open the door harder than he'd meant to.
Niou looked all right (even if his shirt was still bloody), albeit angry. Which was odd, Ryoma's mind managed to register, given that he didn't look angry very often. He'd only seen Niou close to angry once before, and that had been a completely different sort of mad. Right now, though, Ryoma was about as irate as Niou looked, having pretty much pieced together what must have happened. Or at least some scenario relatively close to the truth.
"What exactly did he do?"
Niou’s frown deepened, lips pursed for a moment. Okay, so his pride had a slight problem with admitting that, ‘A kid with the mental capacity of a ten year old just took my body for a joyride.’ But Ryoma needed to know. Jirou, for all his state of mind, was (lightly put) fucking dangerous. “…possession,” he said at last, and turned on heel, heading back to the middle of the floor where Shadow was chewing dejectedly on the carpet. “Brat does that again, and I will gouge his eyes out, slice them up and feed them to Horio in microwave-cut slivers.”
He pulled the toddler into his lap, giving him his own thumb to chew on instead, ruffling the black mullet with his other hand. “You did well, buddy <3”
For once, Ryoma wished he hadn't gotten it so dead-on. "Figured," he said, nodding at Niou's threat. "Wouldn’t blame you." He was getting angrier by the second, as he stopped thinking about the hows and realized exactly what Jiroh had done. Echizen Ryoma's baths were not for public viewing, but worse than that, Jiroh had intentionally possessed Niou, and he could've done much worse damage to either or both of them than stare at Ryoma in the bathroom. Not that the thought of that hadn't been bad.
Niou shrugged. Alternatively, I could just never look at him again, he thought. Proofless, but he was pretty sure that Jirou needed eye contact to… invade. It’d felt extremely deliberate, and— “…yeah.”
He gave Shadow a happy smile in return for one covered in drool. “I’ll make his training hell." The smile turned to Ryoma. "With your permission, of course? <3”
Glancing at Niou, Ryoma nodded. Niou was more than welcome to do whatever he saw fit. "F'he tries it again, he'll have more to worry about than his training."
But wait. If Jiroh had possessed Niou, then shouldn't he have felt Jiroh too? Well - he had. He'd just thought he was in their room. That's what it'd felt like, anyway. And from the looks of things, that was where Jiroh had left his body - but Ryoma could synch Jiroh in spirit form as well, so why hadn't he...? Ryoma frowned. Maybe he had, but the feeling of Niou had just been too much stronger? He really had no idea - but then, this wasn't exactly an experiment he cared to repeat. If he had to maintain telepathic shields around Niou, he would - though that was definitely not the optimal solution.
"Damn." He sighed, but there wasn't much else they could do right now. Jiroh had gotten away, and he was in bad enough condition to (hopefully) not try anything like that again for now. It looked like Ryoma'd also been right about another thing: namely that Shadow had apparently "taken care of" Jiroh in at least some way.
And he was cold - still dripping he padded carefully across the room, digging for a clean towel before peeling off his mostly-soaked shirt and drying off his hair and torso. **For the record, I obviously don't care if you ever wanna join me, but let me know this way in advance. Failsafe - m'assuming you couldn't or you woulda told me.**
Niou snerked. **Think being strapped into the back seat of a car.** – when he was the one with the license, and the hijacker wasn’t even old enough to drive – **I’ve never had a blood nose in my life until today, if that’s any clue.** Cue wince. **I don’t giggle. I don’t use doors. I don’t ‘um’.**
…a small smirk came along. Depositing Shadow on the bed, Niou stripped of his own red-spattered shirt, dumping it in the laundry basket on the way over. Tapping a pale finger at Ryoma’s bare chest, he leaned down a little for a not-so-light kiss. **I would’ve done more than just stare~**
**Well I thought maybe Shadow'd punched you. And I know you don't giggle an' stuff, but I wasn't exactly expecting Jiroh t'be looking like you. 'You' left right when I realized.** He'd figured it out, but one step too late - his own damn fault, really, but next time (if there was a next time, which really, there'd better not be) he'd be on his toes.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said smugly, poking Niou lightly in the stomach as he reluctantly broke away after a moment to wipe wet bangs out of his face and finish towelling off his hair before it kept dripping down his back. He was going to have to deal with Jiroh - that was for sure - but right now, there wasn't much else he could do. Except lock the bathroom door that early in the morning from now on.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 12:01 pm (UTC)Amusing log, ya'll