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Tweak says, "Save the Winchester."

Ikeda Kiriko | 池田妃凛子 (apathyisboring) wrote in disappear_rpg,
@ 2010-09-27 19:34:00

Entry tags:

kiriko, reizo

Who: Kiriko and Reizo
What: Saturday Night at Reizo's
Where: Reizo's?
When: Shortly after Masami Dungeon
Why: Fun and profit.

Saturday nights were fast becoming habit. To this point, they had usually involved a lot of meandering and Reizo asking in a roundabout way whether or not she'd be staying over, but he'd foregone the question this time in favour of tossing one of his shirts at her to use for sleepwear. Silk, leapord print, and entirely too big for her, Kiriko had thrown it on without question and followed him out into the living room.

The TV was on, and she was laying on the couch, bare legs thrown over Reizo's lap and a bowl of microwave popcorn balanced on her stomach. The dishes had been cleared from the coffee table, but the brown paper takeout bag and a styrofoam container had been left there and pushed to the side to be dealt with later. The room was dark, but for the flicker of the screen, and quiet, but for the saccharine swell of music underlying forced dialogue and the quiet crunch of popcorn. Their running, less-than-generous commentary on the movie had temporarily subsided. Reizo's suffering at being forced to endure the actual script was palpable.

On the screen, a man and a woman were talking in a car. The woman, Kiriko recognized, was the new love interest - "new" because the first one had died a couple of scenes ago, in between a bloody bathroom-stall fight with a foreigner and a rooftop shuriken battle. The conversation wasn't particularly interesting: plot dump, and more proof of the awful script, and one of those scenes thrown in there to give the mind a break between bloodbaths, but the situation in the movie called forward a thought from the back of her mind. She turned her head to look up at him, nudging her knee against his stomach to get his attention.

"So. You sleeping with anybody else?"

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apathyisboring
2010-09-29 07:35 am UTC (link)

It was a rare, almost unheard of thing for Ikeda Kiriko to be struck dumb, but there it was. It was such a simple, straightforward question that she absolutely hadn't expected it to work, especially given the subject matter. She could remember the last time she had asked, even implicitly about his father - he had answered at his most dangerous, with probably the least veiled threat he'd ever given her, and besides being intimidated into silence she had been ready to give up trying to speak to him about anything right then and there. Kiriko recalled it clearly, and the contrast couldn't be sharper. He'd shut her up again, this time with unexpected candidness couched in such uncharacteristic tenderness that she felt guilty for asking and worse for remembering.

And that was without even considering the content of his answer. What he was saying was about the only thing worse than the way he was saying it. To make matter worse, #3 on the list of Things She'd Been Meaning To Talk To Him About was on the table quicker than she'd expected. Her eyes didn't quite meet his, and she chewed the inside of her lip as her fingers flexed against his, their painted tips curling slowly down over the backs of his hands. Her lips parted, but it took a moment to force them to form words.

"While I was unconscious, in your... place..." Already off to an evasive start. "I had a dream, about you and him."

Her eyes lingered on the scar jutting from the corner of his mouth, long and conspicuously enough to avoid further explanation, before finally returning once more to his.

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some_other_dog
2010-10-01 11:57 pm UTC (link)

“What happened?”

He asked her, voice no louder or quieter than before. Putting more emphasis on it on his end might make her uncomfortable, might make her even lie to him. A lot of people’s memories had come through in their headspaces, most of them painful, and when her eyes focused intently on his scar he had a suspicion of what it was, but he needed to hear it anyway to make sure.

So he laid there beneath her, looking plainly at her, big hands roaming up and down her back and sides as he waited for her to confirm it.

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apathyisboring
2010-10-02 12:34 am UTC (link)

Kiriko bit the inside of her lip while trying not to look as though she was biting the inside of her lip. Having to elaborate on what she saw was among the things she was hoping to avoid, but no dice. The issue was on the table, she'd put it there, and she'd have to keep talking. It was harder to do it with her eyes trained on his face, but she forced herself.

"He gave you a gun," she said, measured and slow, "and you shot someone."

It was most definitely the abridged version of what she had actually experienced, but the scene was replaying at the back of her mind with particular emphasis on the parts of the human body meant never to be seen sprayed out over a wall and her stomach was twitching and turning in response. Her gaze stayed steady, if grave and cautious. It felt like her mind had split into two, with one half overworking to calm the other: Smooth reassurance about the irrelevancy of his family life fought with and suppressed her sudden, shuddering anxiety and the unpleasantly ill feeling that came along with it.

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some_other_dog
2010-10-02 01:56 am UTC (link)

His expression didn’t change, and his hands kept moving against her back. The only reaction she got for a few moments were some blinks, and then finally a gentle “oh.”

His hands came to a slow stop against her but they didn’t slip away. Instead he stared up at her, head tilted, dark eyes roaming across her face and considering her. His breath was normal, firm chest slow and steady beneath hers, and beyond his eyes being alert he looked as relaxed and sleepy as he had when he’d first pulled her down onto him.

“I’d do it again, too.”

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apathyisboring
2010-10-02 03:00 am UTC (link)

It struck her as an odd way to respond, and she didn't immediately have an answer for it. Her head tilted slightly, mirroring his, as she simultaneously wondered if there was any additional meaning to the statement and resolved to let it slip if so.

"Hm," she acknowledged softly, her brow wrinkling briefly as she considered how to proceed.

The seasick feeling had subsided to a dull gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach, the part of her mind aligned with it wistfully remembering the golden age of yesterminute when she was watching terrible movies with her newly-exclusive not-quite-boyfriend. What had possessed her to switch out watching graphic fake violence for talking about graphic real violence, she did not know. Well, yes she did - she'd always had a sense of morbid curiousity about his darker activities, and was finally in a position to get some answers.

At the expense of her comfort and better judgment, apparently.

"So... what happened?"

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some_other_dog
2010-10-03 12:40 am UTC (link)

“Enh,” he said in response, broad shoulders lifting in a small shrug. If she’d seen his stupid past in a dream, didn’t she already know? He frowned a little up at her, mouth opening and then closing as he tried to figure out how and what to tell her.

“Seems you saw most of it. The bits before that weren’t interesting. Some stupid bastards kidnapped me, locked me in their trunk, took me home, tried to ransom me. I don’t know if they were druggies, desperate, or just stupid, but it didn’t end well for them.”

His eyes had gone distant with recollection as he spoke, and he was looking at the ceiling now instead of her.

“My parents kept at them after their first contact, not giving in, trying to .. I don’t know, I guess just trying to find a way to find me and not look weak and risk it happening again. So the guy, the one I shot, ended up taking a knife to my face and sending the polaroids to them. Little after that, they found ‘em, saved me.. And uh, the rest is history.”

He exhaled. His tone didn’t lend itself to quiet, reverence, hurt, or much of anything. He was just laying it out like it was, matter-of-factly. No reason to really keep it from her, and she’d probably seen how scared he’d been as a kid. It sounded like a bad shonen hero manga, now that he thought about it.

“So, you know, that was sorta like my introduction to what my family was, really. Shit changed after that, my parents got harder and started teaching me how to be what I am now.”

He left out the it about ballerina school.

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apathyisboring
2010-10-03 01:28 am UTC (link)

The detachment with which he answered greatly assisted her own, and she listened with her head at a curious incline. The emotion had gone out of it, and she was piecing the rest of the story together from what she knew, trying not to stare at the scar when it came up - to do so would surely be both rude and obvious, and who knew which was worse?

On the whole, she found his lack of parental resentment very, very odd. She had never heard anything of them that wasn't dubious at the very least (reputation was very important, but weighed against your kidnapped son...?) but had also never heard him speak of them in any way that wasn't either neutral or fervently defensive. Hadn't he said that in Paradise, too? Wanting to disappear and walk out rather than letting his family down, then saying he deserved a beating for it afterward? It seemed he had more filial loyalty in his pinky than she did in her whole body (though who knew how much longer he'd even keep that) and Kiriko was coming up at a loss as to why.

"This was... first year middle school, right?"

Of course, Why don't you hate your parents? was not just something that you asked. She'd piece it together later. Puzzling out the timeline was a nice, manageable, neutral chunk of information for right now.

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some_other_dog
2010-10-03 04:06 am UTC (link)

Reizo nodded, a small and barely noticeable thing. His strong fingers grew tauter on her, and hooked beneath the hem of the oversized shirt on her to draw it up so he could get at her bare skin instead. The thoughts were distressing, as well they should be, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that the pale skin and curves of a pretty and appealing girl helped him to relax.

“Yup. When I got back, I started making trouble and throwing my real weight around. Practice, I guess.”

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apathyisboring
2010-10-03 04:24 am UTC (link)

"I remember," she said, her smile finally snapping back into place. "It was a little after we met."

Middle school wasn't great, but it was certainly a much more pleasant thing to remember. The topic had been more or less exhausted, at least for the time being, and with it off her chest and most of her questions answered she was under no impetus to bring it up again any time soon. She glanced down when his hands slipped under her shirt, then back up with a bit of a glint behind them, her head cocking to an angle that was far less curious than arrogant.

"You were shorter than me back then."

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some_other_dog
2010-10-05 03:05 am UTC (link)

He scoffed and rolled his eyes showily, strong arms growing tighter around her and hands growing miles bolder as they started to stroke and squeeze. A lazy smirk spread across his face after he was done showing his disbelief.

“Just because you were always looking down your nose at me doesn’t mean I was shorter.”

His eyes fell on hers for a long moment, but eventually he pulled them away to look back at the television. His father’s death was nothing he had really wanted to discuss. More than that, it was just a huge reminder of who he was and what might happen to him - but for now it was alright to just lay on a couch and watch shitty movies with his ... Well, girlfriend, he supposed.

He groped for the remote and muttered something about CG blood.

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