呉島 貴虎 | kureshima takatora (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heavenlydecree) wrote2014-09-19 10:58 pm
heavenlydecree) wrote2014-09-19 10:58 pm
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[If there was one thing Takatora was sure he should have learned by now, it would be how to keep his life in perfect running order. He had been the head of Yggdrasill's Research and Development branch from the moment he'd left high school and even before that, his father had kept him on a tight and strict schedule, never a second unaccounted for or left out of place. Unfortunately, with all of Takatora's scheduling and trying to squeeze an extra hour into every day, he still felt as though he never had time for anything, let alone everything. Even his weekends left little time for himself, though Takatora was also painfully aware of his obsession with triple-checking everything under his command and bringing such weight onto himself. He couldn't allow for errors.
His morning routine started a bit later on the weekends, if only because Takatora knew he had to catch up on sleep at some point to make up for running himself ragged. Getting sick was something he couldn't risk. The usual morning routine went by quickly: dragging himself out of bed (he'd never become a morning person, as much as he wanted to), showering, getting dressed, checking for any news or alerts while he had been sleeping. Thankfully, nothing important had happened during the night. Takatora always lived with the fear of something awful happening while he was asleep that he would be unprepared for, but every morning brought the same temporary relief. For now.
Takatora headed out of his room after an hour or so, still checking his phone as he made his way down the hall and towards the stairs. Ryouma already wanted to talk to him about something, which was mildly surprising as Ryouma rarely (never) got out of bed so early, which meant he'd been up all night again. Stepping past one of the maids, Takatora spoke a return greeting to her as he continued on, paying more attention to typing out messages than his surroundings.]
His morning routine started a bit later on the weekends, if only because Takatora knew he had to catch up on sleep at some point to make up for running himself ragged. Getting sick was something he couldn't risk. The usual morning routine went by quickly: dragging himself out of bed (he'd never become a morning person, as much as he wanted to), showering, getting dressed, checking for any news or alerts while he had been sleeping. Thankfully, nothing important had happened during the night. Takatora always lived with the fear of something awful happening while he was asleep that he would be unprepared for, but every morning brought the same temporary relief. For now.
Takatora headed out of his room after an hour or so, still checking his phone as he made his way down the hall and towards the stairs. Ryouma already wanted to talk to him about something, which was mildly surprising as Ryouma rarely (never) got out of bed so early, which meant he'd been up all night again. Stepping past one of the maids, Takatora spoke a return greeting to her as he continued on, paying more attention to typing out messages than his surroundings.]
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[Sleep was important both for school and for dance. He knew that, and he tried to keep himself on a good schedule that included enough. Not everything could be planned, and he knew that, but he did as much as he could. He'd packed his bag, stuffing it in his closet inside another backpack. He'd found that if he folded everything carefully it could fit, and he could keep his dance clothing hidden from the prying eyes of the maids or his brother.]
[The plan was to get up, get dressed, go out, and find somewhere to change. He hated using public restrooms, but he could change in there. Never in the same one twice within a month, and never with the same staff around. Out there, he was just Micchy, not Mitsuzane.]
[Today, though... he felt sluggish. Slow. His body ached in a way that had nothing to do with dancing and his throat was scratchy. Logically, he should just stay in bed, but he'd promised he would be there. It wasn't that bad, and it probably wasn't something he could pass on, but he'd stop to get a face mask on the way.]
[He dressed carefully, enough to look good while outside but not things that could get wrinkled easily in his bag during the day, and headed out down the hallway. He could hear Takatora's footsteps, and he straightened himself out. He had a science textbook in his bag - the plan was to tell him that he was going outside to study and examine plants for a biology test. But he felt himself wavering as he kept walking, movements too stiff and expression slightly pained.]
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[It doesn't take him long to finish his biology review, and he moves on to math, pulling out a calculator. It takes him a lot less time, and he finishes it with time to spare. He considers what to do, and fishes through his bag until he pulls out Paradise Lost.]
[It keeps him occupied enough until Takatora is ready to go, at least, and thankfully it doesn't take too long to get home.]
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So now, he was leaning back against the counter, dressed in one of Takatora's t-shirts and a pair of loose-fitting pants (Takatora was not nearly as skinny as he was), off in his own little world.]
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Despite not being able to remember much, Takatora could tell his body stung, but any marks he had were conveniently hidden as long as he kept his clothes on. He had wandered down to the kitchen to reheat his food, but even after the beep had sounded from the microwave, Takatora was still sitting at the counter with his head resting on his arms, trying to find the energy to move.
The entire previous night was an unfortunate blur. He wasn't sure he would want to remember any of it, but at least Ryouma had ducked out a few hours earlier out of boredom and 'needing to get work done.' However, Ryouma was right. Takatora always hated being alone.]
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[He'd forgotten to send his brother a message that he was falling asleep elsewhere, though. Now it was close to midnight, and he was definitely going to be in trouble. He pulled up his phone, and texted Takatora.]
I'm at a friend's. Please don't worry.
[Maybe he shouldn't go home tonight at all. He couldn't help but feel the pressure there, even more so now that he knew about what was going on. Groggily, he sat up and looked around to see if there was anyone else around while he waited for a response.]
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Nii-san? Are you home?
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[So he headed off to find Baron's stage once he was done with some studying. He didn't want to to approach them at their base, but once they were done with a song they should be easy enough to grab. He kept his Gaim clothes in the bag, too, but didn't wear anything fancy either. This wasn't Gaim business and it wasn't 'Mitsuzane Kureshima' business. This was just business as one concerned person to another. Hopefully.]
[... As long as no one on Baron decided to object to him being there.]
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Hey! Come on!
[Kouta removed his lockseed from the clip on the back of his jeans, holding it up. Good. That was enough to draw attention to him, allowing time for civilians to get out of the way. With a quick transformation, Kouta was up and fighting his enemy, focused only on keeping him away from anyone (which, thankfully, the area had mostly cleared out by this point) and defeating him as quickly as possible.
Hopefully things wouldn't get too complicated.]
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He had managed well enough until one had landed a surprise hit on his right shoulder. That attack on its own had driven him to his knees, overwhelming his body with pain. Takatora had known the mark was weak, but the shooting, crippling pain was far more than he imagined. Somehow, barely, he'd managed to get back to Yggdrasill, collapsing on the floor as soon as he was through. Even with his suit, the injury had been enough to keep him in so much pain he couldn't speak.
There were other injuries too, of course, but Takatora hadn't paid any attention to them.
It was a few hours later that he found himself in one of Yggdrasill's infirmary rooms (the one specifically reserved at all times for him). Takatora was on his back, staring at the ceiling and loosely cradling the area next to his scar with one hand. What a mess he was. How was he ever going to save anyone like this?]
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For now, he stood towards the back of the crowd, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched them perform. There was no particular reason, he thought, that he had come out this way today. Maybe there was, he didn't know. It was just where Kouta's walk had taken him when he'd allowed his mind to wander.]
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[Still, he keeps walking out every morning and in every evening hoping to spot his brother. Tomorrow's the weekend again, and he doesn't want Takatora to be away the whole time. It still hurts, the way Takatora shuts him out. He wants to talk to him, to try to explain things, to prove his worth, but he doesn't know what to do. He peers into the kitchen again, hoping that Takatora's shown up again by now.]
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He had no idea what to do.
For now, Takatora sat with his elbows on his desk, his hands folded and his head resting against them, simply trying to calm down.]
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At the very least, he was determined, very determined, to completely do away with any emotional inclinations he had after finding out everything he had that morning. It seemed as though it would be best to keep them entirely separate for awhile, but he knew he couldn't get away easily after Mitsuzane's proposal that morning.
When he wandered into the house after coming home from work, Takatora was right back to his usual tense self. Ryouma wouldn't be too far behind him, but he still had to talk to Mitsuzane.]
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[He was early, early enough that no one else had shown up, and he just sat against the outside wall of the garage. His eyes were a little red and puffy. He hadn't been crying, but he'd felt like he was going to. He was just so frustrated and he didn't know what to do.]
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