ext_9800 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
issen4.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2008-10-05 11:54 pm
issen4.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-10-05 11:54 pm
[5 Oct] [Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago] Slip Roads 5/31
Title: Slip Roads 5/31
Day/Theme: 5 Oct/bargaining
Series: Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago
Pairing: surprise
Rating: PG-13, reference to incest between brothers
----------------
"...Please, sensei. If you help her, I'll do anything, anything at all..."
Even heard through the door, the desperation was enough to make Ryousuke's lips tighten for a second, before he was safely past. When the life and well-being of their loved one was at stake, a patient's family would say anything, hoping the doctor would produce a miracle cure somehow.
Ryousuke was not yet jaded enough to be unmoved by those pleas, but he had learnt to re-use the detachment he had developed when he evaluated challengers in Project D, and he coped by focusing on his own patients. It usually worked well; his father gave him approving looks, and if he believed the rumour mill, the nurses apparently had a good impression of him.
Which was often accompanied by: "And he's so good-looking too!"
He had thought it was easy to be professional, but in reality it was just because Ryousuke never had a hostage to fortune. Today it was a struggle.
If he hadn't been so distracted by his grandfather's visitors--and it was rare that he was distracted enough to let things slip his mind--he would not have been so horrifying when he reported for work just now.
Yesterday he had been worried for Fujiwara, but Fujiwara was alive and well. And he had been so relieved that he never even asked, even of Shindou and Touya, who else was in that 'accident'.
"A five-car pileup?" Ryousuke had said, seeing in his mind the exact spot in the mountain road where the first car must have gone out of control, and how it would have hit the guardrail--and skidded right into the path of the uphill-going cars. Racers knew it as one of the most challenging twists on the Akagi route, and it had been the site of more than a few accidents even under his watch in the Red Suns.
"The one in the first car died on impact," Dr Shimizu Ichiro, his senior, said, shaking his head. "Drunk. Stupid too, to drive that way down the mountain. Only one car got through the whole mess unscathed, and I heard that it was this really old Toyota too. Lucky!" He gave a low whistle of appreciation.
Not luck, merely skill. Ryousuke knew in his bones it was Fujiwara. He remembered how Fujiwara had drifted through that twist like smoke through a tunnel, and how he had been unwillingly impressed by Fujiwara's defensive driving skills more than once; no wonder he had brought Shindou and Touya through without a scratch. "How bad was it?" he asked.
"Six more injured, one critical. Luckily you were off-duty yesterday, traffic was a mess."
Ryousuke only let himself glance, once, towards the name on the noticeboard. "How critical?" he asked.
"Huh?" Shimizu asked. He looked like he was already thinking of his cigarette break. "Oh, him. They're still monitoring that. He hasn't woken up since surgery last night. With that knock on his head, could be anything," he shrugged. It wasn't his department. "He a friend of yours or something?"
"I knew him in Tokyo," Ryousuke admitted.
Shimizu's eyebrows went up. "Ah. I heard that he's a doctor, but didn't realise... small world, huh? You're going to see him?"
Ryousuke nodded.
Shimizu added, "Heard that the police managed to contact his family--a brother, I think."
Ryousuke felt a spike of anxiety at that. "Brother?"
"Yeah. What's the matter, you know him too?
He shook his head. He had heard plenty, though.
"Well, hope he makes it through," Shimizu said, glancing at his watch. "Time for a break. Are you seeing patients today?"
Ryousuke recalled his schedule. "Yes, in the afternoon."
Shimizu wrinkled his nose. "And half of them with seasonal allergies and sinuses, I bet. Well, see you later." He waved distractedly at Ryousuke as he made for the door, already searching in his pocket for his cigarettes, no doubt.
At the doorway to the hospital room, Ryousuke deliberately stood to one side and observed the occupants, though his attention was more focused on the visitor than on the patient at that moment. Seemed like the brother had already arrived.
Ryousuke had learnt a lot about Fuji Shunsuke when he was in Tokyo. Some of it was not information known to the general public.
"He has a weird sense of humour," was an oft-repeated phrase.
Ryousuke remembered an athletic, well-exercised body with smooth, tanned skin and a stubborn-looking purse of the lips that always made him want to kiss it.
But some of his best memories were of the times they had played tennis together that summer when he was in Tokyo. He had felt stifled by everything in the capital city: the noise, the people, the dreary, unending blocks that were such a poor contrast to what the mountains of Gunma had to offer. He longed for the twisting roads, the trees that stretched towards the skies and the wild grasses that waved madly when he sped past them in his car.
Not every doctor at the hospital welcomed him. He was his father's son, someone who already had his career path mapped out for him, with a future as a hospital director ahead of him. Beneath the officially congenial attitude, there were sneers.
Ryousuke would not be Ryousuke if he wasn't able to see through all of that, but he had been grateful when one of the doctors stretched out a hand in pure friendship.
"They're just jealous," his tennis partner--and teacher--had said to him.
"And you aren't?" Ryousuke had asked bluntly.
"Jealousy is a destructive emotion, Takahashi-san. It's much better to fight on with what you have, right?"
Ryousuke had nodded, thinking of Keisuke and his envy of Fujiwara, and then their eyes had met in perfect understanding.
And he certainly remembered the night when they had revealed more of themselves than either of them expected. Lying in bed, talking and not talking of love, he had looked up in time to see the sudden widening of those eyes. "It's someone that you shouldn't... right?" came the whisper.
Alarm flushed through Ryousuke, and he said, "Not that way, certainly," trying for nonchalance and knowing he had failed, by the crack in his voice. His heart was racing as though he had just been attacked.
"It's all right." A finger touched his cheek in a caress. "Don't make a joke of it, please. I know it hurts." He settled himself against Ryousuke, not looking at him, and said, "I know, because I feel that too."
Ryousuke tried to feel revulsion at the confession, but there was only embarrassment at how hypocritical he could be.
"So where is he now?"
"Who-" Ryousuke fought against the bitter memory of Keisuke's departure. "How did you know?"
"You wouldn't have that secret loss in your eyes if he was in Japan. Eyes reveal a lot, you know." A hand reached for Ryousuke, and held it firmly. "He and I... we've rejected each other a dozen times over, and it has not made a difference except in the sorrows we feel."
"How-" Ryousuke tried another tack. "What would he think if he saw us?"
"He'll probably go into a rage. But we've agreed that we have to move on. Try, at least."
That was what Ryousuke had planned too. "He's out of the country," he confessed, marvelling at how easily he spoke and relishing it. Everyone at home had imagined that he and Keisuke fought because of their different career choices--that he had tried to keep Keisuke in Japan and had failed, while Keisuke had tried to get him to go back to racing and had failed.
Was it manipulative? Ryousuke wondered, but it was the best thing to do. He had intended to give up racing all along, and he had goaded Keisuke into accepting that offer from Australia.
"And since he's been gone, there's been no one else?"
"Well," Ryousuke said, pushing all thoughts of Fujiwara out of his mind and rolling over to wrap his arms round the other man, "there's you." And no more discussion about brothers was spoke that night.
He had never felt comfortable about getting closer to Fujiwara, not while he nursed this monstrous longing for Keisuke. There was something pure in Fujiwara that he superstitiously feared he would corrupt. But that spell in Tokyo taught him that slowly, things could change. He could change, and until that happened, he would wait.
After all, he was supposed to be good at planning behind the scenes, right?
Ryousuke now stood in his hospital gown in his father's hospital in Akina outside of a hospital room in the intensive care unit and listened.
"...if you wake up now, I promise to play tennis with you again."
No response. It went on and on, in that smooth, easy voice, a voice that, to Ryousuke's imagination, could become sly and caustic, or teasing and gentle. A voice with a smile in it, indefatigable. Coaxing. Bargaining.
"...it's been so many hours since the surgery, aren't you tired of sleeping for so long? Remember when we were young, you always got up earlier because you were afraid I'd spike your cereal?"
"...I'll treat you to pie..."
Threatening, even.
"...I'll really go to Paris. Yumiko is working there now, you know."
"...if you don't open your eyes, I'm going to kiss you now, with all the nurses watching. Then everyone will know."
"Oh, please... you're a doctor too. You're supposed to wake up now, right? You know that too, right? If you wake up, I promise not to- Oh! Doctor!"
Ryousuke started too, when he saw the patient twitch. Even across the room he could see eyelids fluttering. Something beeped; the attending doctor would be here any moment. He couldn't help it. He entered the room, eager to see for himself, and stumbled in his eagerness, catching himself just in time against the wall.
"Aniki," the patient said, eyes on the visitor.
"Yuuta," Ryousuke gasped.
----tbc-----
Day/Theme: 5 Oct/bargaining
Series: Initial D/Prince of Tennis/Hikago
Pairing: surprise
Rating: PG-13, reference to incest between brothers
----------------
"...Please, sensei. If you help her, I'll do anything, anything at all..."
Even heard through the door, the desperation was enough to make Ryousuke's lips tighten for a second, before he was safely past. When the life and well-being of their loved one was at stake, a patient's family would say anything, hoping the doctor would produce a miracle cure somehow.
Ryousuke was not yet jaded enough to be unmoved by those pleas, but he had learnt to re-use the detachment he had developed when he evaluated challengers in Project D, and he coped by focusing on his own patients. It usually worked well; his father gave him approving looks, and if he believed the rumour mill, the nurses apparently had a good impression of him.
Which was often accompanied by: "And he's so good-looking too!"
He had thought it was easy to be professional, but in reality it was just because Ryousuke never had a hostage to fortune. Today it was a struggle.
If he hadn't been so distracted by his grandfather's visitors--and it was rare that he was distracted enough to let things slip his mind--he would not have been so horrifying when he reported for work just now.
Yesterday he had been worried for Fujiwara, but Fujiwara was alive and well. And he had been so relieved that he never even asked, even of Shindou and Touya, who else was in that 'accident'.
"A five-car pileup?" Ryousuke had said, seeing in his mind the exact spot in the mountain road where the first car must have gone out of control, and how it would have hit the guardrail--and skidded right into the path of the uphill-going cars. Racers knew it as one of the most challenging twists on the Akagi route, and it had been the site of more than a few accidents even under his watch in the Red Suns.
"The one in the first car died on impact," Dr Shimizu Ichiro, his senior, said, shaking his head. "Drunk. Stupid too, to drive that way down the mountain. Only one car got through the whole mess unscathed, and I heard that it was this really old Toyota too. Lucky!" He gave a low whistle of appreciation.
Not luck, merely skill. Ryousuke knew in his bones it was Fujiwara. He remembered how Fujiwara had drifted through that twist like smoke through a tunnel, and how he had been unwillingly impressed by Fujiwara's defensive driving skills more than once; no wonder he had brought Shindou and Touya through without a scratch. "How bad was it?" he asked.
"Six more injured, one critical. Luckily you were off-duty yesterday, traffic was a mess."
Ryousuke only let himself glance, once, towards the name on the noticeboard. "How critical?" he asked.
"Huh?" Shimizu asked. He looked like he was already thinking of his cigarette break. "Oh, him. They're still monitoring that. He hasn't woken up since surgery last night. With that knock on his head, could be anything," he shrugged. It wasn't his department. "He a friend of yours or something?"
"I knew him in Tokyo," Ryousuke admitted.
Shimizu's eyebrows went up. "Ah. I heard that he's a doctor, but didn't realise... small world, huh? You're going to see him?"
Ryousuke nodded.
Shimizu added, "Heard that the police managed to contact his family--a brother, I think."
Ryousuke felt a spike of anxiety at that. "Brother?"
"Yeah. What's the matter, you know him too?
He shook his head. He had heard plenty, though.
"Well, hope he makes it through," Shimizu said, glancing at his watch. "Time for a break. Are you seeing patients today?"
Ryousuke recalled his schedule. "Yes, in the afternoon."
Shimizu wrinkled his nose. "And half of them with seasonal allergies and sinuses, I bet. Well, see you later." He waved distractedly at Ryousuke as he made for the door, already searching in his pocket for his cigarettes, no doubt.
At the doorway to the hospital room, Ryousuke deliberately stood to one side and observed the occupants, though his attention was more focused on the visitor than on the patient at that moment. Seemed like the brother had already arrived.
Ryousuke had learnt a lot about Fuji Shunsuke when he was in Tokyo. Some of it was not information known to the general public.
"He has a weird sense of humour," was an oft-repeated phrase.
Ryousuke remembered an athletic, well-exercised body with smooth, tanned skin and a stubborn-looking purse of the lips that always made him want to kiss it.
But some of his best memories were of the times they had played tennis together that summer when he was in Tokyo. He had felt stifled by everything in the capital city: the noise, the people, the dreary, unending blocks that were such a poor contrast to what the mountains of Gunma had to offer. He longed for the twisting roads, the trees that stretched towards the skies and the wild grasses that waved madly when he sped past them in his car.
Not every doctor at the hospital welcomed him. He was his father's son, someone who already had his career path mapped out for him, with a future as a hospital director ahead of him. Beneath the officially congenial attitude, there were sneers.
Ryousuke would not be Ryousuke if he wasn't able to see through all of that, but he had been grateful when one of the doctors stretched out a hand in pure friendship.
"They're just jealous," his tennis partner--and teacher--had said to him.
"And you aren't?" Ryousuke had asked bluntly.
"Jealousy is a destructive emotion, Takahashi-san. It's much better to fight on with what you have, right?"
Ryousuke had nodded, thinking of Keisuke and his envy of Fujiwara, and then their eyes had met in perfect understanding.
And he certainly remembered the night when they had revealed more of themselves than either of them expected. Lying in bed, talking and not talking of love, he had looked up in time to see the sudden widening of those eyes. "It's someone that you shouldn't... right?" came the whisper.
Alarm flushed through Ryousuke, and he said, "Not that way, certainly," trying for nonchalance and knowing he had failed, by the crack in his voice. His heart was racing as though he had just been attacked.
"It's all right." A finger touched his cheek in a caress. "Don't make a joke of it, please. I know it hurts." He settled himself against Ryousuke, not looking at him, and said, "I know, because I feel that too."
Ryousuke tried to feel revulsion at the confession, but there was only embarrassment at how hypocritical he could be.
"So where is he now?"
"Who-" Ryousuke fought against the bitter memory of Keisuke's departure. "How did you know?"
"You wouldn't have that secret loss in your eyes if he was in Japan. Eyes reveal a lot, you know." A hand reached for Ryousuke, and held it firmly. "He and I... we've rejected each other a dozen times over, and it has not made a difference except in the sorrows we feel."
"How-" Ryousuke tried another tack. "What would he think if he saw us?"
"He'll probably go into a rage. But we've agreed that we have to move on. Try, at least."
That was what Ryousuke had planned too. "He's out of the country," he confessed, marvelling at how easily he spoke and relishing it. Everyone at home had imagined that he and Keisuke fought because of their different career choices--that he had tried to keep Keisuke in Japan and had failed, while Keisuke had tried to get him to go back to racing and had failed.
Was it manipulative? Ryousuke wondered, but it was the best thing to do. He had intended to give up racing all along, and he had goaded Keisuke into accepting that offer from Australia.
"And since he's been gone, there's been no one else?"
"Well," Ryousuke said, pushing all thoughts of Fujiwara out of his mind and rolling over to wrap his arms round the other man, "there's you." And no more discussion about brothers was spoke that night.
He had never felt comfortable about getting closer to Fujiwara, not while he nursed this monstrous longing for Keisuke. There was something pure in Fujiwara that he superstitiously feared he would corrupt. But that spell in Tokyo taught him that slowly, things could change. He could change, and until that happened, he would wait.
After all, he was supposed to be good at planning behind the scenes, right?
Ryousuke now stood in his hospital gown in his father's hospital in Akina outside of a hospital room in the intensive care unit and listened.
"...if you wake up now, I promise to play tennis with you again."
No response. It went on and on, in that smooth, easy voice, a voice that, to Ryousuke's imagination, could become sly and caustic, or teasing and gentle. A voice with a smile in it, indefatigable. Coaxing. Bargaining.
"...it's been so many hours since the surgery, aren't you tired of sleeping for so long? Remember when we were young, you always got up earlier because you were afraid I'd spike your cereal?"
"...I'll treat you to pie..."
Threatening, even.
"...I'll really go to Paris. Yumiko is working there now, you know."
"...if you don't open your eyes, I'm going to kiss you now, with all the nurses watching. Then everyone will know."
"Oh, please... you're a doctor too. You're supposed to wake up now, right? You know that too, right? If you wake up, I promise not to- Oh! Doctor!"
Ryousuke started too, when he saw the patient twitch. Even across the room he could see eyelids fluttering. Something beeped; the attending doctor would be here any moment. He couldn't help it. He entered the room, eager to see for himself, and stumbled in his eagerness, catching himself just in time against the wall.
"Aniki," the patient said, eyes on the visitor.
"Yuuta," Ryousuke gasped.
----tbc-----