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31_days2008-10-01 11:59 pm
issen4.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-10-01 11:59 pm
[1 October] [Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago] Slip Roads 1/31
Title: Slip Roads
Day/Theme: 1 Oct/Waiting in the wings
Series: Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago
Pairing: none, but references to incest between brothers
Rating: PG-13
-------(1)--------
Thump... thump... thump...
He concentrated on hitting the ball against the garage wall, trying to narrow the point of contact to a single spot. There were actually multiple scuff marks on the white-washed surface to show where he had missed, though in truth they were so faint that only he knew where they were. The sun was high, and combined with the unmoving scarlet foliage on the trees, the heat felt almost solid.
A serve went wide, and he ran for the ball, retrieving it without pause, and threw it
in straight up into the air, capturing it with his gaze before aiming at the wall with a forehand.
Then he heard a faint hum in the distance--very soft, its origin indecipherable unless one already knew it--and paused, letting the ball bounce back into his outstretched arm, his thumb and fingers closing around the ball with automatic precision, as though to imprint his grip on its surface of yellow fuzz. He listened, letting himself indulge in doing nothing else for perhaps a second or two, and attempted to serve again. However, he hit the ball with the edge of his racquet instead, and watched in resignation as the ball flew the wrong way and rolled to the side. He could hear the humming more clearly now.
He turned and watched the car as it entered the driveway, its colour warm as sunshine. He could feel his pulse racing in his ears. For a moment he wondered why he was simply standing there, not moving. It was his tennis; he was distracted, that was all. But Ryousuke did not convince himself.
Keisuke was home.
He did not know if he was glad, but he knew that he would not have missed Keisuke's homecoming for the world.
The yellow FD rolled into the driveway; a clean, direct movement, proof of the driver's skills. The vehicle itself looked as pristine as the last time he had seen it. Nakamura Kenta had been working hard in the last few weeks, helping to make sure that the FD, stored away for the last four years, was roadworthy again. Ryousuke knew that Kenta and his cousin had gone to meet Keisuke at the train station, bringing the FD just so that Keisuke could drive it immediately. Kenta had kept close contact with Keisuke all these years, and faithfully informed the Takahashi family about each exploit of his idol's.
The FD stopped in front of the garage; Ryousuke stood waiting. After a moment, the driver's door opened wide, and the driver himself swung both legs out and stood up in one smooth, practiced gesture. The FD suddenly looked altogether small and empty.
"Aniki-" Keisuke's lips stretched in a wide smile, looking as boyish as as Ryousuke remembered. He closed the car door carefully but firmly, his hands dwelling on the newly waxed paintwork, fingertips trailing.
"Keisuke," he said, and because he was never at a loss for words, he continued, "Welcome back."
Keisuke's smile turned into a smirk. "Yes, I'm back, finally," he said. He took a step forward, then another, as though detaching himself bodily from the FD, and walked the next few steps towards Ryousuke with wider strides. "Aniki, you still look the same as-" he started, and blinked. "When did you take up tennis?" he asked, nodding at the racquet in Ryousuke's hand.
"Two years ago. I learnt it from some junior doctors when I went to one of Tokyo's hospitals for a course," Ryousuke said, giving him the same explanation he gave everyone else. It was only one doctor, actually. "I heard that you're doing well." He did not mention that they had not talked for four years.
Keisuke's grin faded for a moment, and brightened again. "Haven't you heard? I'm taking part in the major races already."
"I've heard," Ryousuke said. Then, because he couldn't help himself: "How long are you staying?"
Keisuke said, "Why, anxious to be rid of me already?" But his eyes narrowed for a second, and they both knew that the joke had gone flat. "Don't worry, I won't be here for long, I'll just-" He stopped talking, though his mouth was still open, slack with surprise.
They stared down at where Ryousuke had grabbed his arm. Ryousuke's grip loosened, sliding down Keisuke's tanned skin. His fingers were damp with sweat, and when Ryousuke took away his hand, Keisuke shook himself, as though chilled. They avoided each other's eyes.
"I'll get my bags," Keisuke said, turning towards the FD. "Is Mother at home?"
"She went to buy something," Ryousuke said on automatic, trying to calm his mind.
"Oh. And Father's still at the hospital, I suppose."
Ryousuke wasn't sure what he said, but it must have been agreement, for his brother nodded in a way that showed he expected the reply and pulled out a small suitcase from the FD.
----tbc-----
Day/Theme: 1 Oct/Waiting in the wings
Series: Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago
Pairing: none, but references to incest between brothers
Rating: PG-13
-------(1)--------
Thump... thump... thump...
He concentrated on hitting the ball against the garage wall, trying to narrow the point of contact to a single spot. There were actually multiple scuff marks on the white-washed surface to show where he had missed, though in truth they were so faint that only he knew where they were. The sun was high, and combined with the unmoving scarlet foliage on the trees, the heat felt almost solid.
A serve went wide, and he ran for the ball, retrieving it without pause, and threw it
in straight up into the air, capturing it with his gaze before aiming at the wall with a forehand.
Then he heard a faint hum in the distance--very soft, its origin indecipherable unless one already knew it--and paused, letting the ball bounce back into his outstretched arm, his thumb and fingers closing around the ball with automatic precision, as though to imprint his grip on its surface of yellow fuzz. He listened, letting himself indulge in doing nothing else for perhaps a second or two, and attempted to serve again. However, he hit the ball with the edge of his racquet instead, and watched in resignation as the ball flew the wrong way and rolled to the side. He could hear the humming more clearly now.
He turned and watched the car as it entered the driveway, its colour warm as sunshine. He could feel his pulse racing in his ears. For a moment he wondered why he was simply standing there, not moving. It was his tennis; he was distracted, that was all. But Ryousuke did not convince himself.
Keisuke was home.
He did not know if he was glad, but he knew that he would not have missed Keisuke's homecoming for the world.
The yellow FD rolled into the driveway; a clean, direct movement, proof of the driver's skills. The vehicle itself looked as pristine as the last time he had seen it. Nakamura Kenta had been working hard in the last few weeks, helping to make sure that the FD, stored away for the last four years, was roadworthy again. Ryousuke knew that Kenta and his cousin had gone to meet Keisuke at the train station, bringing the FD just so that Keisuke could drive it immediately. Kenta had kept close contact with Keisuke all these years, and faithfully informed the Takahashi family about each exploit of his idol's.
The FD stopped in front of the garage; Ryousuke stood waiting. After a moment, the driver's door opened wide, and the driver himself swung both legs out and stood up in one smooth, practiced gesture. The FD suddenly looked altogether small and empty.
"Aniki-" Keisuke's lips stretched in a wide smile, looking as boyish as as Ryousuke remembered. He closed the car door carefully but firmly, his hands dwelling on the newly waxed paintwork, fingertips trailing.
"Keisuke," he said, and because he was never at a loss for words, he continued, "Welcome back."
Keisuke's smile turned into a smirk. "Yes, I'm back, finally," he said. He took a step forward, then another, as though detaching himself bodily from the FD, and walked the next few steps towards Ryousuke with wider strides. "Aniki, you still look the same as-" he started, and blinked. "When did you take up tennis?" he asked, nodding at the racquet in Ryousuke's hand.
"Two years ago. I learnt it from some junior doctors when I went to one of Tokyo's hospitals for a course," Ryousuke said, giving him the same explanation he gave everyone else. It was only one doctor, actually. "I heard that you're doing well." He did not mention that they had not talked for four years.
Keisuke's grin faded for a moment, and brightened again. "Haven't you heard? I'm taking part in the major races already."
"I've heard," Ryousuke said. Then, because he couldn't help himself: "How long are you staying?"
Keisuke said, "Why, anxious to be rid of me already?" But his eyes narrowed for a second, and they both knew that the joke had gone flat. "Don't worry, I won't be here for long, I'll just-" He stopped talking, though his mouth was still open, slack with surprise.
They stared down at where Ryousuke had grabbed his arm. Ryousuke's grip loosened, sliding down Keisuke's tanned skin. His fingers were damp with sweat, and when Ryousuke took away his hand, Keisuke shook himself, as though chilled. They avoided each other's eyes.
"I'll get my bags," Keisuke said, turning towards the FD. "Is Mother at home?"
"She went to buy something," Ryousuke said on automatic, trying to calm his mind.
"Oh. And Father's still at the hospital, I suppose."
Ryousuke wasn't sure what he said, but it must have been agreement, for his brother nodded in a way that showed he expected the reply and pulled out a small suitcase from the FD.
----tbc-----