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lacunasbalustrade · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: matching claws

Summary:

Rouga and Eagle have matching jewelry. If you refer to the triple D card, you'll see little gold pendants on Eagle's claws.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It's a full two years before Rouga takes a glance in the mirror with Eagle on his shoulder and realises the extent of Kyoya's obsession with imagery. He'd never really liked the bathroom in the main house, and ever since moving into an apartment closer to the academy, he'd had little occasion to use it.

It was too grandiose for his taste - even now, it was starkly and opulently obsidian, every. single. wall. Mounted basins of white, white marble reared their aggressively minamalistic heads all over the place, under raw-metal pipes that served as taps. Kyoya had probably thought it was a funny reflection of Rouga's personality - the rooms he'd commissioned to the caricature of his friend's most outstanding traits. Or perhaps they were intended to make him feel ill-at-ease; the Kyoya that had grown from that shadow of a bright and inquisitive boy (in Rouga's mind, anyway) was a controlling one. Nothing would have made him feel more secure than to gaslight his old friend into developing a reliance on him, and him alone, rather than allow him to peer too closely at the past and linger in the house to contemplate the change in their brotherly dynamic.

Today, though, it's misted up a little. He'd finished dressing and doing up the gleaming gold pendant's scarlet ribbon latch when Eagle's circular gold claw clasp caught the spotlight and glinted - a hard, sharp glint like a spark off flintstone. Rounded, smoothened, a gold circle ..... locket. It came to him then, and he curses under his breath as he hunches his back now, jaw trembling with suppressed exasperation. Always exasperation. He doesn't really think it means enough to be angry at Kyoya, but he doesn't notice when Eagle flaps off in a flurry of white hurriedly to report that the prank's punchline has finally hit Rouga in the gut, so focused on preventing himself from defenestrating the locket is he.

Kyoya, covering his mouth at the balcony table (the one he saves for breakfast), tries hard to prevent himself devolving into snorts in front of Sofia and Astraeus. Eagle has no such qualms, guffawing with birdlike chirps in the way only an avian can do. Expressionless, Sofia reaches for a eggshell-white chicken teacup (Ming dynasty, an antique.) with five sugar cubes melting ion by ion into warm black tea.

Her pinky finger trembles a second.

The halflight of a dissolving crystal gold sky bathes their faces in caring indifference as the clouds shatter their little company's visage from our sightline.

Eagle is a contract worker; and Kyoya, as Rouga has grown to realise, leaves his signature mark on all those under his thumb. With flair, obviously. He'd balked when first meeting Armorknight Eagle, it was unthinkable that he needed a disguise to pursue Buddyfighting, though in the end he had 'come around' to Kyoya's point of view. This, though. He wasn't going to back down on Kyoya's ridiculous frippery. 'Twinning' with Armourknight Eagle is too much of a millennial thing for him to feel comfortable participating in....and it gave him an air of....cuteness?!! Come to think of it, that was probably Kyoya's goal in matching their accessories. He never did anything without a hidden agenda, did he? Still...to think that even that seemingly harmless stylist's work when he had first accepted Eagle was concocted with a specific ideal in mind.

Where was Eagle? Gone to spill the beans, he realised, irritated at himself. For not noticing, and for proudly bringing Eagle around unaware that he was flaunting something as....tame....and incredibly stu-pid as that. For heaven's sake, he had just LOST to Mikado YESTERDAY. He had....(he set his jaw at the thought and dropped his head into his hands) tried to school the boy about loss and rivalry WHILE WEARING A FREAKING PIECE OF MATCHING JEWELRY WITH HIS BUDDY.

He calmly closes the door of the bathroom behind him as he marches off to breakfast, a gaping hole in the mirror and the wall behind it still crumbling away into soot-coloured crumbs.

"Kyoya." Rouga doesn't really have any words to say, despite his roiling fury, they always fail him. And desert him. And abandon him, in favour of his verbose...pal.

A charming, coquettish picture his friend makes, rabbit ears of white and maroon tilted towards the burgeoning storm beyond the balcony, elbow placed on Davide's shaking head. (Rouga would bet that Davide is making that awful "BWAHAHA" sound in his lap, but he can't hear anything when that head is so securely tucked in between his legs)

Laughing gaily, Kyoya bestows a sly, ill-boding tilt of his head at him. The butt of the joke. "Don't be too upset with me, Rouga. What's a little.... inside joke between friends? Well..." his fingers cross gracefully, as if switching keys on the organ, as he ponders his next choice of dialogue. His irises narrow into thin, feline, rosy slits, having hit upon the perfect target. "Besides. I'm sure that...rival...of yours didn't suspect anything." Picking up a crunchy lettuce sandwich, Kyoya munches away.

Unbelievable. What is the matter with him?

Is he not concerned at all that this will affect Disaster's image? Treating Rouga like a...like a toy...

Caramelised fingers dig into a palm, dagger-quick, sharp inhalations of breath. How have things progressed this way? How can he - the one closest to Kyoya, now be the recipient of everyone's mocking stares? (Sofia and Davide, Eagle cawing away) People who treat promises like playthings. Repulsion at their colours - they are incapable of obtaining love without making underhanded deals and bargains, and misuse their power as stewards to force him to obey their own pride and ego. Let these stinging scars serve as a lesson - if he softens, if he shows his... true thoughts to the people who do not truly treat him like he is an equal...like he deserves such treatment of hidden faces and guileless lies...- people too scornful to think that they should better themselves, humiliation will always follow.

Kyoya is the, Kyoya is the only one who rescued him.

The only one exempt from this rule. The rest mean nothing. Eagle, means nothing. A sacrifice. An altar to his strength. It's a cheap trick, really.

Mere routine, as Kyoya has said hundreds of times. Just another...test. Eagle is a betrayer to his species - a parrot, willing to reduce his intelligence and commit felonies for crime. He has none of the pride and unbreakable honesty associated with Cerberus, and Rouga was a fool for forgetting it, for giving him the chance to sit on his shoulder and losing the feeling of claws that dug into his skin just a little, beneath the layers he wore to camouflage in Kyoya's society.

Rouga forces a careless grin onto his face. "I was going to tell you, good joke." Angling his back to the sun, he stalks forward in the direction of his rooms.

Nails pressed into palms so hard it feels like the muscles have become unmovable stone. The imprints they leave will never fade from Rouga's memory. Despite it all he in still glad in the midst of...everything that he can clench these warm fingers into a fist, like he couldn't do in the rabid cold, but but the taste of an imaginary tear dripping into his mouth and his silent howl WILL NEVER LEAVE HIM.

Notes:

I was HOWLING whilst writing this like a banshee but it ended up going into a character study of how he must have felt. Done in thirty minutes.

reminder of a safe return

reposted from ao3! read more below the cut.

reminder of a safe return

Balustrade

Summary:

The pendant Rouga wears and the cross Kyoya bears. The pendant might carry more secrets, and the cross may be warmer than you think.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Management

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Chapter 1

Chapter Text

The streets of Cho-Okachimachi are clean, bustling with sleepy and determined shoppers. Even at the ungodly hour of 9.am. on a Saturday morning, an unmistakable aura of energy permeates the air, he notices, turning his head this way and that as Kyoya observes him with an amused smirk.

As expected, the aura-in-question belongs to those blessed with the coveted 'morning person' miracle constitution. Well, good for them - but he hasn't signed up for this and would rather be on his soft mattress snoozing and getting some shut-eye. Some of the energetic 'kids' run around making noises on the stony pavement. They're mostly with significant others, tugging and pulling, pushing and pouting, calling each other by silly nicknames you'll never understand - he can't help but let out a satisfied hmmph at them (despite only being eleven and in no position to talk), the way a grumpy uncle looks fondly at his nieces and nephews flirting at a party.

How can the sky be this clear, anyway? It's transparent as he wonders, angling his head up towards the glowing, welcoming heavens, so cloudless at this moment as they illuminate every inch of this nook of his world in promises. It's a miracle that he's never understood. It's so blue in the morning and the sunshine is so clean, not purified like the air-conditioning in Kyoya's house (not like where he grew up, where he used to live. The memories of that place have been fading for a while, maybe three years now - he's never tried to keep track - why would he? - but the stain of how the big-city nearby flooded the already-grey slums with factory pollution, billowing dust even over their sky - THAT still lives within his lungs, still lives within the eyes that created a clear night sky even though they've never seen one themselves, never seen a star, only satellites.) and Rouga is more certain than he's ever been that Kyoya needs to invest his time in Nintendo 3DS, Danganronpa, or some other normal edgy game that lovable, unreliable elder brothers with eighth grader syndrome play, instead of dragging him out unreasonably for stuff he could care less about.

"Come on, Rouga. We're friends, aren't we? You can't possibly abandon me to the streets without a friend in the world." Kyoya had said, winking shamelessly with one finger to his mouth. (he could never refuse him when he pulled that stunt) "A little secret between us. Father and Mother need never know. I've been so bored~"

And just like that, he'd been coerced into sneaking out.

It had been coming for him for a while, he realised resignedly - Kyoya had reached his not-quite rebellious phase of life whence he was obligated to buy heavy metallic jewellery, wear clothes that looked both suggestive with their v-necks and side slits, and dorkywith their light academia colouring (as opposed to the cute coat he had worn when they first met, back when his parents still colour-coded his wardrobe to match with theirs). Not to forget, Kyoya started to listen exclusively to ballet music (Rouga never could tell which ones were actually symphonies, and which ones were from the Nutcracker or Giselle - not like Sofia could.)

He supposed it was Kyoya being aesthetic (because Kyoya never tries for anything - he knows exactly how to achieve the effect he's going for, and that makes him both terrifying and so.... bright.)

Just as he is now, walking charmingly from velvet-wrapped stall to stall, swaying gracefully in that particular, childish way that's both suggestive (again) and cute. And on cue, Kyoya turns three-quarters of the way towards him, waving his hand at him, beckoning him with a smile full of certainty and suppressed hilarity.

Because if there's one thing Kyoya hates more than anything, it's not being entertained.

Rouga joins him at the sage-draped stall wordlessly, hands-in-pockets, lip stuck out a little, skull-tinted messy hair still covering his sober indigo eyes where he tugged it over to get rid of the blinding light. Whatever Kyoya wants, he will never shy away from asking for it (for all his faults, he's surprisingly brash -)

Kyoya's eyes give a little flash at the sides in earnest - it's a rare look for him, almost cherubic in innocent wanting (he is not smiling, but he is taking this seriously), and Rouga finds himself taken aback by that unfamiliar expression. "Rouga, have you considered getting your ears pierced? There are some cool earrings here - I think they would suit you. Why don't you try them on?" Kyoya suggests, picking out a pair of weighted iron studs and holding them up to his earlobes, visualising it with those valentine-shaded irises, frowning as he strains a little to make up the height difference.

Yeah, Kyoya asked like he thought he would. His friend doesn't hold back from asking for ridiculous things, does he...? Wait a minute. Did he really just hear what he thought he heard? (even from Kyoya, that's...!) This on-occasion frightening best friend of his - is asking him to take something sharp and whack it into his flesh on - on purpose?! "Don't be ridiculous, Kyoya." His response is short, and curt, full of disbelief. Kyoya frowns in displeasure, prompting Rouga to elaborate - (reluctantly), as he stares at a couple playing an (obviously rigged) plush toy machine out of the corner of his half-closed eye. "Why would I voluntarily make holes in my own body? That's just stupid."

Kyoya sighs dramatically, apparently deciding it is not worth the effort and energy to argue with this.... unfashionable plebian. "You do know, there are processes to prevent ear infection?" He tries halfheartedly, already neatly rearranging the earrings on their rotatable pinboard. "Yeah." (Rouga didn't know, but that's not about to make him more eager to make a dent in himself just to satisfy some whim of Kyoya's.) Kyoya holds up a pair of ruby drop earrings and admires the way they catch the darkness behind the shadow of the stall, amplifying it and chasing away the light. "Pity. We could have matched."

(Now he's so glad he hasn't agreed, earrings are not his thing, and when Kyoya says to match, he doesn't think he could have denied him.)

"Then....how about a necklace?" (A necklace doesn't sound terrible. No bodily injury, so if it makes Kyoya happy...) "Fine. That's not too bad." Rouga says grudgingly, giving a glance at the stall.

"This one." Kyoya picks up a golden pendant (button?) between his thumb and forefinger, his pinky sticking out elegantly like how he takes tea in the evenings as he does. It's almost impressive how quickly he comes to a decision - is he that certain about it (about Rouga's tastes?)? And he flicks the catch open to reveal - oh, it's a locket - and Rouga is forced to admit that yes, Kyoya is being considerate and careful and he is right about it.

Because this pendant can be "strung on a ribbon - it's time you made yourself presentable too, Rouga, it's a good tie", "a reminder of our friendship", and it's gold, "just in case you ever need some cash and I'm not around, gold retains its value, especially Golden Warrior Chrysaor."

A gift from Kyoya is something he will never sell, although the thought....is a good reason to lend even more value to the gift.

But mostly, he just likes having a secret strung around his neck, and (he knows) Kyoya's aware of that, knows that Kyoya can sense the yearning in his eyes if not in his mouth, knows that Kyoya predicted this reaction.

"In that case.....I'll buy this one, Miss." Kyoya is working his charm again, persuading her to give them a discount (not because he needs it, he stole a credit card before going out, but because this bargaining and haggling is fun for him in a way Rouga can reluctantly understand) when the heavy silver cross at the very end half-hidden under the tablecloth, beneath a bunch of feathery dreamcatcher earrings catches Rouga's eye.

It is nothing Kyoya should be encouraged to wear, he thinks, and wonders briefly what sort of cursed things would happen should he inflate his friend's saviour complex before deciding against it.

It is too late, and he regrets even allowing his disguarded thought to exist for that brief moment, because Kyoya's eyes are sharp, and he sees Rouga's thoughts like a huntsman to his prey as he slips it into the reusable bag (Rouga has an eye for things he appreciates too, even if he doesn't approve of them) and offers the shop assistant an extra wad of bills as Rouga stares, slightly horrified.

The streets of Cho-Okachimachi are clean, bustling with hungry and determined shoppers, and as the two walk in companionable silence to the bus stop, Rouga feels the weight of the golden pendant in his pocket like a cherished reminder, Kyoya idly twirls the cross around his neck and feels the way it rests against his chest like a safe return.

(next few rbs with the next two chapters)

#chapter 2 #rouga aragami #kyoya gaen #fcbf #future card buddyfight #sofia sakharov

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