Merry Christmas all! I come with crappy fics for people who asked. I found it really difficult writing these this time, and so they're really not my best work. Especially the one I wrote for xcry it is just so unbelievable shit. In fact it's not even a fic. I'll explain more later.
Title: Nothing but the lies you've left me with
Fandom: Japanese Popular Culture
Genre: Realism, dealing with tragedy, angst
Word Count: 949
Disclaimer: So not mine, that it's not even funny
Summary: Tegoshi falls in to the spirals of depression, and Ryo falls apart
Author's Notes: First attempt at slash, enjoy mariegina
Sometimes he doubts himself. Cold, dusty days, where he can’t remember what he’s doing, why he’s doing it, who he’s doing. He forgets to attend meetings, and to open his mouth and sing. He’s not angry and he doesn’t want to cry. He’s not happy and he doesn’t want to smile. Everything is everywhere and at times like these he just wants to scream at no one in particular for things that aren’t anyone’s fault.
Then his mood does a complete 180, and he’s jumping up and down, the cutlery shaking with fear at his own joy. These days are generally Wednesdays, though why he doesn’t know. The world is bright and humming with possibility. Today he’ll do everything, be everyone. Nothing could possibly pop these bubbles of anticipation, the tingling sensation of the adventure to come. He’d do well at work today, give them a genuine laugh, show them the real twinkle in his eye. Today is the day. Today he’ll confess.
Tegoshi’s mood swings have not gone unnoticed. They’re erratic, off the charts. Koyama says it’s depression, Yamapi has problems of his own to deal with, Shige has a girlfriend (a first for him), Massu is being reprimanded on his uncontrollable eating desires and Ryo is too self absorbed to care.
But he does. He watches Tegoshi closely and doesn’t want to push him away. And he does his bit. He makes sure that no harsh jokes about Tegoshi’s sexual persuasion or hair are made. He appoints himself as Tegoshi’s protector. No one gets to Tegoshi without going though him, because all he wants is Tegoshi well again, and the days that he seems like himself, those, inbetween days of extreme sadness and profound joy, are growing fewer are further between, are delicate and need to be preserved, cupped in his hands like a tender naked flame determine to shine.
In a way it’s like he’s whipped, he’s subconsciously doing all of Tegoshi’s chores for him and trying to keep him happy for as long as possible, because it’s all that he can hope for now. His expectations have dropped along with Tegoshi’s affections. Before it was a hand on his hip a whisper in his ear, a carefree giggle. Now it’s a grunt and a whimper. Touches that never last as long as they should, in places that aren’t sacred. Ryo’s loosing him. He use to try to shake off Tegoshi’s feelings, his hand on his shoulder offering a firm but tender resistance. But now he just tries his hardest not to blink.
Tegoshi has a thousand things to say, and a minute to say them in. He wants to tell Ryo that his feelings aren’t platonic anymore, that they never were. He wants to call his mother, and apologies for not coming home for Christmas. He needs to ask for help, from someone who understands.
There never seems to be enough time, and there never seems to be a right moment. He’s either too happy, or too angry, too low or just too damn tired. He’ll say something tomorrow, do something tomorrow, enjoy today or finish wallowing in his own dank emptiness. It doesn’t feel right, so he doesn’t open his mouth. It never feels right anymore.
Tegoshi notices Ryo’s extra efforts. And it doesn’t please him. It annoys him. He knows there is something not quite right about himself, but he doesn’t need Ryo’s pity or his help. Ryo doesn’t give anyone his pity, Ryo doesn’t know how to help, and he definitely doesn’t want to be the exception. The baby in the corner who’s confused and uncertain. He’ll pry himself out of his shell on his own thank you very much.
He’s someone else now. There’s no point waiting for old Tegoshi, right Tegoshi, his Tegoshi to come back, because they’re beyond that stage. The clock ticks into tomorrow, a dark day without hope, without sun. Most of him has gone now, and the part that remains shouts at him. Screams at him to fuck off, calls him names he knows Tegoshi would never say without a giggle and an immediate apology to accompany it.
Today’s his last day. Johnny has asked him to leave, if only for a little while, just until he gets better, but they all know it’s a permanent hiatus. Tegoshi won’t be coming back. He yells and throws things - he has every right to, hollers that it’s unfair and that he has rights as well. But everything is out of his control and Ryo knows that’s what he’s really angry about.
It’s summer, so at 6pm, the sun is only just going down. Tegoshi is crouching on the floor, his legs together on his tippy toes, hands encircling knees. Soon a security guard will come to escort him from the building, and Ryo knows that this is his last opportunity to tell him that he cares, and that he wants them to keep in touch. His last chance to offer something more.
The tinkling of the heavy metal door alerts Tegoshi who turns his head to the noise. Ryo, a (because he’d lost the right to say his a long time ago) angry bundle of joy slowly heading his way. Tegoshi offers him no smile, no handshake, no hope of better summers to come, and when Ryo reaches him and looks into those sunken eyes that mean so much (that he never really seemed to notice before). And says nothing. There is nothing left to say, and nothing he can do. This isn’t Tegoshi. This isn’t the person he fell in love with. There’s no love here, just a bitter pool of hate, hostility and regret.
Title: More than my favourite suit of armour
Fandom: Japanese Popular Culture
Pairing: Ryo/Erika Toda
Word Count: 1135
Disclaimer: So not mine, that it's not even funny
Summary: Ryo goes below and within the call of duty
Author's Notes: xcry I am so sorry about how unbelievably crap this is. It's not even a fic, it's like two incomplete fics. It's just crap. I found it really hard to write this, and instead I gave you second rate. But if given the chance, I promise to make it up to you. So I'm incredibly sorry abou this, and I hope you'll just forget about it. The first piece is me experimenting, and making Ryo sound like a high school girl writing in his diary, and the second piece is perhaps slightly more in character, but much more incomplete and ARGH. It's just weird and bad. If it's any consolation, I hate it too.
It was suppose to be a year long job. I’d quite after that. Because, who really has a career as a bodyguard? No one. At least no one with other skills and interests. I was going to take this job for a year, to earn enough money to go back to Uni and finish my English course. I figured it was a win-win situation, it paid really well, and who would really want to hurt an idol? Maybe she’d get stalked a few times, and sure perhaps once in a while, some crazy fan would try to grab at her clothes, but no would really want to harm her. Erika Toda was pretty and popular and guarding her would be a piece of cake. Plus, she probably had lots of pretty female model friends that I might even be able to meet.
Life was good. Life is good. Kind of.
I’d decided long before I applied that Erika Toda, was stereotypical. She was vain, self engrossed, superficial, heartless and two faced. She’d be cute for the cameras and a bitch behind the scenes. They were all like that, some just disguised it better than others. This job would just further prove my point. I never had much tolerance for fame. I don’t want to be famous. Of course at some point I did. A great baseball star, or a wonderful scientist or something. Maybe even a critically acclaimed author, but really, none of that’s worth anything, and anyone whose job is to please and entertain the people around them is just shallow.
Oh, and did I mention that this job made all my friends jealous? (A plus if you’re wondering) They were all charmed by her. Her nice act in Nobuta Wo Produce, her confused charade in Liar Game, her bubbly determined character in Deathnote. But I wasn’t fooled. Her shapely form, deep blue eyes and glowing hair wouldn’t fool me.
My first day was a little offputting. I wasn’t awed by my presence, and my new suit fit really nicely (I really hoped that they’d let me keep it. They didn’t). She’d welcomed me warmly into her apartment complex (which I thought was unnecessary) and offered me a refreshment. She was clothed in sweatpants and a shirt, her hair tied back messily in a ponytail.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Erika, you came with excellent references, and I hope we can work well together. " Standard answer. I thought. It definitely sounded practiced and rehearsed. She probably did this whole happy homes ritual for every employee. Trying to get them to like her.
“Yes, I’m Nishikido Ryo, and I’m glad to be a part of the team.” I’d play it her way. Trying to be charming and cute like her. I was going to smile like I knew we’d be the very best of friends.
“Awesome.” I wondered if the was the end of the “getting to know you better” segment of today. I stood on the other side of the kitchen counter oolong tea. I could feel an awkward silence developing between the two of us. Didn’t she have things to do? Magazine to pose for, merchandise to sign, people to smile at other than me?
Erika walked to my side of the counter. Slowly and purposefully. Trying to sip your oolong tea nonchalantly only works for a certain period of time, and after that, you just look like desperate alcoholic.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I resisted the urge to step back.
“So, who do you really like? I can’t imagine that you always wanted to be bodyguard. Perhaps you’d grown up with an aspiration to be a bouncer but fell short.” She was mocking me, teasing me in frank and friendly manner. I was a little taken aback. After this little conversation, I didn’t really expect her to ever talk to me again, aside from those inevitable commands. Erika, Erika Toda was taking a real interest in me, and for a second, I was star struck.
Yes, despite everything I’d said, despite my best preparations to avoid the look of awe on my face I had on right now, that day I’d fallen just a little bit under her spell.
He was strange and stoic. And so very unlike anyone she’d ever met. He never talked about himself and constantly wore a blank expression.
Normally she wouldn’t pay him any attention. Erika didn’t waste her time on things that did not offer her some type or return, and her bodyguard (whose name was Ryo right?) was definitely one of things. He’d been introduced to her a few months ago, and was still as boring as ever.
But today wasn’t a normal day. He had posted his resignation notice today, and in two weeks time, Erika wouldn’t be able to call him her bodyguard anymore. As an idol, and therefore a very beautiful, clever and interesting individual, Erika was above all nosey She knew yukihiro, who worked morning and evening shifts, had a wife and a daughter, whom he spoilt terribly, and that his wife disapproved of his profession. To her it was dangerous, and she was wary of the company he kept. But Erika also knew that she had nothing to worry about, Yukihiro simply looked menacing, he could win a 100 metre sprint easily and could shoot a gun reasonably well, but beyond that, he had very limited capabilities. Erika Toda, as famous and loved (hated too) as she was, no one really wished her dead, and if they did no one was stupid enough to actually carry out an assassination attempt. A crazy stalker or two every year and a few desperate fans were mainly the brunt of it.
Her other bodyguard Mingawa, though nicely toned, definitely did not do any heavy lifting. He was single and apart from the occasional model at midnight, was looking for someone to settle down with. Mingawa always knew the best exit routes out of buildings (to avoid the fans) and more a Cub Scout leader than an actual bodyguard. He liked to sleep in, and generally took evening shifts.
But she knew nothing about Ryo. Was he married? She didn’t think it likely, he looked barely older than her, and far too serious. Did he have a girlfriend? Why did he take this job? He was a mystery to her, and immune to her charms. He worked odd shifts that seemed to have no particular pattern and she was unaware of his strengths and weaknesses. Erika had assumed she’d discover these in time, but time was running out and she needed to know. She would use her charm, undoubtedly her most powerful weapon.
She was an idol was she not? And an expert at getting what she wanted.
- Merry Christmas, Here comes santa with his bag is dysfunctional fics.