#me in hell: WHERE THE FUCK IS TETSUJI MORIYAMA

[dayurno]

kevin day is like. he's a child star. he's experienced an incomprehensible amount of labor abuse and inhumane working conditions. he was taken from his home country by a close relative with bad intentions. he's a cult baby. he grew up in captivity underground. every bad thing that could happen to a human being has happened to him at some point. he is happier than most of us when he can kick a ball for a living.

[sapphoherselz]

howdy!! two literal people have asked for some andreil rec so here they are!! my most favest fics EVER in the first 60 ao3 pages (I'll keep updating tho as I read!)

Not yours to bleed:

The Pros were never in the cards. Not for an ex-medicated alleged psychotic with a dysfunctional family and an Exy career he’d rather not have. But even if it wasn't his first choice, no matter what happens, it can’t possibly be worse than that one fucked up sophomore year when he stood toe to toe with the Yakuza-and won.

At least, that’s what Andrew thinks until a familiar face shows up.

Another Raven!Neil AU. Or, the one where the boys don’t meet until the Pros.

 

**Updates every other Wednesday, whatever hell may come.**

The Sun Still Rises:

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

TALE OF A MARTYR IN XII PARTS:

Neil closes his eyes and counts the things that he knows:

One: Death has a name.

Two: He has met Death before. Several times, in fact.

Three: Someone is trying to kill him. Permanently. But it's only kind of working.

Or, the one in which Andrew is the Grim Reaper, Neil is very, very good at dying, over and over and over again. They teach each other a few things over the centuries.

Hearthlines:

The Fae king and queens have gone away, closing the knowes behind them and abandoning their offspring to the mortal world. As the Fae have spread far and wide, their bloodlines thinning if not vanishing forever as they flee from mortal persecution... two Fae have found a way to reopen the knowes - Kayleigh Day and Tetsuji Moriyama. The Fae regroup once more, the balance of power shifted amongst them, and 'changelings' appear now and then in the mortal population.

Andrew Doe is one of those changelings, a young child suffering in the foster system, shunned by his peers for some reason and hearing voices in his head.

Alex - the latest name gifted to him by a charm - is on the run along with his mother from his father, using their talents as shadow walkers to slide between worlds and stay one step ahead of the powerful Fae. Except even that is not enough anymore. Except that's not Alex's only talent.

*******

An urban fantasy where I throw Fae, necromancy and magic at TFC characters, pretty much!

Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die):

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

Amor Vincit Omnia:

“I said it already,” the man said, “Your cluster.”

“But what does that mean?” Neil asked.

“It means that you are no longer just you,” the man said tersely, “Congratulations.”

It didn’t feel like anything worth celebrating.

A Sense8 AU where the foxes all share one subconscious and kick a lot of ass

The Real Thing:

Andrew was more than willing to turn down the Ravens' offer to be their newest goalie, unwilling to play five more years of Exy - let alone for someone with a too-sharp smile and a manic gleam in their eyes.

That was, until he realized that a member of their Perfect Court was his soulmate. (That was, until Riko Moriyama realized that Nathaniel Wesninski, the Ravens' #3 in waiting, was Andrew's soulmate.)

Andrew always knew that Fate loved tormenting him, he didn't need a reminder yet again via a too-attractive soulmate who appeared to loathe him. Yet things aren't always what they seem, especially in the Nest.

mad girl says she's wolf-proof:

Keeping her grip light on Nina’s throat, Andrea drops her gaze to her plump lips. She smiles—coldly, slowly. Fangs on fangs. Salt tombstones. It is not a nice smile, none of Andrea’s smiles are, but Nina’s eyes are stuck in it regardless. “And I will answer, all the better to eat you with.”

 

(Andrea Dobson vs girlhood and lycanthropy.)

lessons in caretaking:

Neil was acting shifty, and Andrew knew why; that motherfucker was leaving. Despite the promise between them, Neil was prepping to run. Andrew wasn't upset about that, not at all. After all, if notorious Neil "No-Swing" Josten needed to leave after Andrew admitted his desires regarding his proximity to Neil's shorts, who was Andrew to stop him. But that doesn't explain why Neil was stealing socks, or why he wanted Andrew's clothes.

Whatever. That was probably unrelated.

Sauntering Vaguely Downwards:

They’ve known each other since the Beginning. Not the Beginning Beginning—they didn’t meet until after the War in Heaven, where they kept to their own sides, or until after the subsequent Fall. It wasn’t even until after the Exodus from Eden, but only by a couple minutes. They’ve witnessed the rise and fall of empires, sampled all the cuisines the world has to offer, and weathered several very silly fashion trends.

Andrew doesn’t think they’re friends, exactly, but it is natural to become accustomed to the presence of the only other being who has been around more or less consistently for six millennia. It wasn’t anything more meaningful than that.

A Good Omens AU where Andrew is a grumpy angel, Neil is a sharp-tongued serpent, and it takes them literally six thousand years to figure out they belong together.

[codename-adler]

My niche aftg take is I think the most unrealistic part of the series is exy’s rise in popularity, like you’re not gonna make me believe that enough colleges were willing to bankroll a brand new co-ed sport (especially USC) that they were able to set up multiple NCAA divisions for it

is it really though? that unrealistic? look at us. literary wolves and escapism artists. caring about a book about a sport. i mean, we don’t even get to watch it! and still we fall. still we read. nora’s action scenes are written so fluidly and are such captivating parts of the story, it’s like waterfalls of gold cascading into the most neck-breaking riverbeds.

i do, however, understand that i have no mf clue about how sports league get birthed and how the NCAA works. i’m not even from the U.S. so perhaps you do have some ground to stand on…

what i’ll give you though, is that Exy’s creation seems a bit too quick to be plausible. but again that’s where suspension of disbelief needs to come in, and nora does the job well. she’s developed the sport enough to explain it and divide it very clearly, and to illustrate it, but the thing with Kayleigh and Tetsuji was shady as hell and murky at best. why to Japan? why wasn’t lacrosse enough? what was the study? how did Kayleigh Day, a woman in sports, convince the world? how many years did it take? when was Exy introduced in the Olympics? how did Kayleigh manage to make Exy mixed? how much involvement with the Moriyamas did she have? keep in mind that i have never and will never read the EC. the answers may be there but i’ve never known someone to speak about it…

my conclusion is that if we could really see a game, we’d get it. immediately. i don’t think we all fully realize how much skills, precision and smarts it takes to play Exy. it’s probably one of the most demanding sports out there, intellectually. there are so many factors to keep in mind, so much coordination to keep up.

also it’s fucking violent. with a wide, wide range of players, thus sizes. if you don’t stay for the refinery and superb techniques, you stay for the bloody, epic brawls. it’s a good show. lots of drama. it’s got everything, really.

anywhoo, anon, thank you for the ask. it was exactly what i wanted to know more about! it got me thinking, and i like that you stopped to imagine how exy would actually establish itself in the world, realistically. would love to catch a game with you.

[exybackliner]

I might be jumping into a discussion I lack context for, so forgive me if the below is beside the point.

While the Moriyamas may own the Wildcats, I don't think owning teams is where most of the smart money is. The NCAA has perfected the science of grinding college athletes into a fine paste of unimaginable profit and not having to worry about the absolute wrecks it spits out the other end, but that can only go so far though before you start having recruitment problems. The real money to be made is on the supply end for the merch and equipment. Regardless of what the end results are for the Ravens the Moriyamas got in on the ground floor since Tetsuji was one of the creators of the sport and Kayleigh is dead. Riko, Kevin, and the Ravens were a hell of an ad for Exy merch, equipment, and brand deals.

I definitely think the Ravens got less and less viable as a team as Riko became more of an issue and as Tetsuji's prestige on the college level gave him the ability to act with absolute impunity. What we learn in TSC about just how vile the team culture was even outside of Riko's inner circle suggests to me that even without the events of TKM the Ravens were probably already in the "find out" phase of the fuck around cycle. The way the Ravens train must result in a high injury rate at the college level which would result in a lot of early retirements as the damage accumulated over 4 years and on if they have a pro career - which is going to affect recruitment eventually.

The above is why I think the Trojans have more players go Court, not just because they leave college better adjusted but because they may get better players all around. Sports parents swap notes, watch stats, and min max as much as they can because having kids in sports above a certain level is prohibitively expensive. The goal is not to send your kid to the winningest college team, the goal is to send them to the school that gives them the best chance of success coming out of it. Given how quickly the Ravens cracked after the Nest was dismantled I would think the suicide rate after graduation for any players who don't manage to go pro must be insane. If the kids coming out of one school go home absolute wrecks or don't come home at all and have shorter or less prestigious careers even if they do go pro, you send your kid to any other school. If my kid is good enough to go anywhere, I'm sending them to the Trojans because the Ravens are too high risk for not enough reward. It's not too hard to figure out that if the Trojans were less focused on sportsmanship and the Ravens were actually held to account, USC would probably win just as much.

Thinking about it from the above perspective, I think the Moriyamas probably needed to put an end to Riko and the Ravens soon anyway. The public at large may not have noticed the issues with the players coming out of the Ravens, but the families would and it was only a matter of time before an investigation happened if it wasn't happening already.

I think the Moriyamas probably own at least one pro team, maybe they just funnel some there? Maybe Tetsuji and the Ravens have progressively gotten worse and more toxic and cult-like over time and it’s only in the last like few idk 5-10~ (idk how time works) years that they’ve been spitting out even less and less functional longterm players? Maybe they produce new players fast enough to replace the ones that burn out? Maybe there have been inquiries before but they were able to squash them but not this time? Thanks to Thea’s existence we know they’re capable of producing players that can do their job, or at least were at one point capable of it

I remember there being that line in one of the books that says something along the lines of “More Trojans made it onto the National Court than Ravens did” or something and I wonder if the way they’re socialised is a contributing factor as to why?

Like when you actually think about it, even if the Moriyama’s have their own pro team (which is likely I think if not canon already) they’re like… not as prepared as other athletes for being professionals on their own. They’ve never had press duty, and they’ve never been important enough to have their personal image matter that much, they’re not exactly prepared in that way to be their own athletes instead of just… Ravens.

I feel like the quality in Ravens athletes vs the amount of time the Master was the Coach/the amount of time Riko was playing on the team are like… two lines going in opposite directions on a graph, you know? I once again like to imagine the downfall of the Ravens involving a bunch of pro athletes coming out and talking about what happened in the nest, and I think somebody will be eventually see the correlation between how many Ravens went pro/made court and how long the abuse had been going on in the nest.

[nekojitachan]

Okay, so, the urge to write this hit me (maybe in part because of the new fic). Though I’ve been thinking of it off and on since I wrote it... two or three years ago? I finally got back to it. Raven!Andrew soulmate fic with Raven!Neil (Nathaniel). First part can be found here (I managed to find it).

Uhm, warnings for the Nest (vaguely) and for threats of non-con (that are not carried out). Mention of Nathan, too.

******

Andrew felt a manic, medicated smile spread across his face when Aaron chose not to sit next to him in the Intro to Biology class they’d both signed up for; he was tempted to throw a pen at his twin’s head before he slumped down in his seat and barely paid any attention to what was a blow-off class for him. As soon as the bell rang, he was out the door and waited in the hallway for Aaron to come out. When his brother cautiously stepped outside, he grabbed onto Aaron’s left arm and dragged him aside.

“What, no brotherly love today?” Andrew asked with a bright (false) grin. “Do I stink? I swear I showered after morning practice.” The other students gave them a wide berth, especially when they caught sight of Andrew’s black and red track jacket that all the Ravens had to wear outside of the Nest.

Aaron cursed beneath his breath as he shook his head, then switched to German. “Look, it’s for the best, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Why?” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Riko. “Did someone say something to you?”

Aaron ran his right hand through his hair, which was shaggier than Andrew’s (than his ‘nice’, Raven-styled haircut). “Do any of the other students talk to you? Sit next to you?” When Andrew scoffed at that, Aaron scowled. “It’s not because you’re an asshole, but because everyone here leaves the Ravens alone, it’s like you’re part of some special clique and they don’t like anyone messing with the status quo even if they’re a Raven’s brother. So just… call me or something, maybe we’ll get together on the weekends someplace away from campus, but I can’t chance losing this scholarship. I’m sorry.” Aaron gave him a casual wave as he walked away.

Andrew stood there for a minute as bitterness filled him at how easily Aaron cast him aside, focused on himself as always. It didn’t matter that Andrew had crossed the country for him, had risked his own life to get rid of Tilda for him, had joined the Ravens… well, partially for him.

The asshole hadn’t even managed to get hold of any alcohol for him yet.

He was late to his next class, an American History one, but the professor didn’t bat an eye at his arrival even though she’d chewed out another student last week for doing the same thing. Andrew barely paid attention to what was being said again, confident that he’d pass everything like he always did.

Once the class was over, it was time to head back to the Nest, what joy. He ran into Ben on his way to the stadium and basically ignored his ‘partner’ the entire time. Ben was long used to it by then, and appeared happy when they came across other Ravens, ones who would actually talk to the sophomore.

They spent time before afternoon practice working on their class assignments, which never took long for Andrew to complete. He spent the rest of the break reading through the ridiculously long email Nicky had sent him (why did his cousin bother now that he was back in Germany) and glancing through the stats on the Northeastern Huskies, the team the Ravens were to play that Friday. The Huskies weren’t in the overall top three for the NCAA Division I, but they were for the Ravens’ region so it was considered an important game.

Well, by everyone but Andrew.

Practice was the usual ordeal, was Riko acting as if he was the boss of everyone as he barked out drills and plays, as he expected to be thrown the ball as if he was the only striker out on court. It was Tetsuji watching everything with his emotionless, beady eyes as if he was a starving vulture, quick to lash out with his cane at the slightest mistake. It was Nathaniel acting as if Andrew didn’t exist at all.

Andrew was so tempted to say to hell with them all and head off campus to find the nearest liquor store, but he wouldn’t risk Nathaniel showing up the next day beaten again, or Aaron losing his scholarship.

(He didn’t care about Riko or Tetsuji fucking with him, was more than strong enough to handle whatever they threw at him, but refused to let others be punished in his place.)

Instead, he remained in the goal and blocked almost all of Riko’s shots on it just to annoy the asshole.

(He thought he saw Nathaniel smile once when Riko stalked off in anger, but the expression was gone a moment later.)

The rest of the week was spent with Tetsuji and Riko pushing the Ravens to be perfect (or damn near it) by Friday’s game, to memorize the Huskies’ stats and previous games. Considering that it was only the second game of the season, Andrew took to glaring at the soul mark hidden beneath his left armband; he didn’t believe in regret, not exactly… but he had some rather negative thoughts over Riko and Kevin bringing Nathaniel with them when then came to recruit Andrew.

The campus was festooned with black and red (remove the latter and it would fit Andrew’s mood perfectly), with students wearing Ravens jerseys. Most wore Riko’s and Kevin’s, but Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw Aaron sport his; the moron gave him a brief wave and a nod in acknowledgement, then went to sit with a group of what appeared to be new friends.

How nice for him.

Andrew felt his lips twitch then tug back into a mirthless grin when the loose sleeves of the black and red jersey that Aaron was wearing revealed that the black mark on Aaron’s left forearm was still a shapeless blob, that his twin hadn’t found his soulmate yet. Ah, so only Andrew had been inflicted with that particular curse as of yet, though Aaron was like Nicky and actually looked forward to finding his ‘other half’.

The fool.

Soon enough it was time to return to the Nest, to suffer through yet another recap of the Huskies’ players and probable game strategy (which he’d long ago memorized) before a quick lunch and then ordered to get ready for the game. Andrew noticed that Nathaniel wasn’t with the team for once, and managed to hold on to his curiosity until he noticed a man who appeared similar to the young backliner (his soulmate) stride along the outer ring; he was dressed in an expensive suit which was tailored to fit a muscular build, his dark red hair stylishly cut short (and lacking any type of curl), his eyes the same arresting pale blue as Nathaniel’s. Yet they were utterly lacking of emotion when they glanced out at court… and seemed to linger in Andrew’s direction for a few seconds.

Andrew nudged Ben’s left foot. “Who was that?”

Ben appeared stunned that he’d been asked a question. “Eh? Who?” He glanced in the direction Andrew nodded and frowned. “Oh, that’s Nate’s dad, he shows up now and then, usually on a big game day. Comes before the game starts and always leaves right after.” His frown deepened as he gazed at his racquet. “I don’t think they get along well, Nate’s always withdrawn after his visits and….”

Andrew did some frowning of his own. “And?”

Ben jumped a little at his question and pitched his voice lower. “I wouldn’t say anything, but you’re his soulmate. You’ve seen his scars.” Andrew’s jaw clenched at that statement. “Sometimes after his dad visits, he has a new one.” Ben pointedly looked away after that.

It took a minute or two for Andrew to get the urge to go after the man and bash his head in with his racquet under control (the fact that the abusive bastard had been followed by obvious bodyguards helped just the tiniest bit).

(It also raised the question of who the hell was Nathaniel’s father, what was he doing at Castle Evermore, and why Tetsuji allowed him to abuse one of his most talented players?)

Andrew was distracted from thoughts of violence by Tetsuji ordering the Ravens to warm up and participate in drills as Evermore slowly filled up with eager fans. That wasn’t entirely true as he did feel inclined to smash his racquet into one preening Riko Moriyama, busy mugging for the cameras and fans, and yet again wondered just how incompetent the doctor was who put him on his ‘lovely’ meds.

Maybe Aaron could get a nice lawsuit out of him eventually ‘snapping’ when the inanity of it all finally drove him to bash everyone’s heads in.

A boy with a heavy stick, a ton of issues and forever increasing anger management problems could dream, couldn’t he?

He was actually grateful for the damn game starting, just because it meant that soon it would be over. Andrew was slated to guard the goal in the second half, and so got to sit bored on the bench while a bunch of idiots ran around on the court.

At least, until a Huskie sub striker (#17, Donaldson, junior) seemed to grow annoyed at Moreau blocking him from the Ravens’ goal and swung his racquet into the backliner’s side, right below where the protective padding ended. Part of Andrew nodded in approval of the nasty and effective blow while another was annoyed that he wasn’t the one to land it.

Oh, and that it delayed the game’s end while Moreau was checked and carried off the court.

It was clear that the Huskies hoped to take advantage of the Ravens losing their number one backliner to an injury, but the team was composed of some of the best Exy players in the division. Hebig and Federov managed to do a decent job of defense in Moreau’s place, so Andrew didn’t have to work too hard once he was out in the goal; he only let a couple shots through, with the final score being 12-7.

The stadium erupted into cacophony when the final buzzer rang out, with the Ravens smug over their victory and the Huskies disgruntled. Andrew didn’t give a damn, he merely wanted to shower then sleep, done with Exy for the time being.

Riko and Kevin were expected to do their preening for the camera bullshit, but Andrew noticed how an excited Federov went up to Riko before the asshole left and talked to him, a huge leer spreading across his face when Riko nodded.

Something about that expression made Andrew’s skin crawl (it wasn’t the sweat drying on it or his drenched uniform); it sunk in when he was in the shower scrubbing clean.

Federov’s expression resembled Drake’s when he’d come into Andrew’s room at night.

By the time he rinsed the soap away, dried off and put on clothes, Federov was nowhere to be found. Andrew didn’t see any of the male Ravens missing (other than Riko, Kevin and Moreau), so that left the women and… and Nathaniel.

Shit, Nathaniel, whom Federov would stare at from time to time. Whom Federov would try to talk to, but Moreau always interrupted him and pulled his partner away. Andrew thought it was just Moreau being a dick, but now….

He broke into a run towards Nathaniel’s room, and was grateful for once that there weren’t any locks on the doors in the Nest as he threw the door open.

Federov had a struggling Nathaniel pinned to the bed, hand raised to hit him (hit him again, judging from Nathaniel’s bruised face and bleeding lip). The bastard looked up in time for Andrew to punch him on the cheek, which knocked him aside, and yelped in pain as he was hauled off the bed and thrown to the floor, where his ribs were stomped on twice. Hard.

“Stah- ah! Stahhp,” the bastard screeched as Andrew kicked him once more for good measure, only to find himself pulled off balance by Nathaniel.

“Stop it,” Nathaniel said, his voice weak and a bit slurred from the split lip. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Like I give a shit.” Yet Andrew found himself unable to look away from his battered soulmate, from the hopelessness in Nathaniel’s eyes and the blood on his face; while he was distracted, Federov scurried out of the room like a four-legged crab and slammed the door shut behind him. Andrew clicked his tongue at the thought of having to track down the bastard to slit his throat before he returned his attention back to Nathaniel. “Why’d you stop me?”

“Because Riko would be mad,” Nathaniel said as he slumped back on the bed. “It’ll just make things worse.”

“Worse than someone raping you?” Nathaniel flinched at that but didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and huddled into a small ball, his black sweatshirt torn to reveal some of the awful scars on the upper right part of his chest, including one which looked like an iron burn on his shoulder.

Andrew felt something turbulent scour through his chest at the sight, felt it rail against the drug in his blood, and spun around on his left heel then stalked into the small bathroom attached to the room where he wet a couple washcloths with cold water and grabbed a towel. When he returned to the bedroom, Nathaniel watched him with a wary gaze as he approached the bed.

“For your face,” he said as he held out the washcloths. “You might want to do something about the swelling.”

Nathaniel was still for a few seconds before he uncoiled enough to accept them. “Jean will-“ He winced when he must have realized that his partner was stuck for the night in the medical department.

“Will what?” Andrew prodded as he smiled, jealousy and anger straining at the chemical chains the damn drug forced upon his impulses. “What’s he gonna do, hmm?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel wrapped his arms around himself and appeared younger than seventeen years old. “There’s… there’s icepacks in the minifridge.”

Andrew glanced around and found the fridge on the other side of the room, by what he assumed was Moreau’s desk; when he opened it, he found it stocked with a couple bottles of water and several icepacks. Huh, seemed they were prepared for a few booboos, how interesting.

He went back to the bathroom and grabbed a couple hand towels to wrap the icepacks in, and returned to the room to find Nathaniel gingerly wiping the blood from his face. Once it was cleaned up, he handed over the icepacks and got up to grab the large sweatshirt (Moreau’s) which was draped over the back of the nearby chair and threw it on Nathaniel’s bed. “I’m spending the night here.”

Nathaniel’s eyes (well, the right one, the left was swelling shut) widened at that. “I’m fine! You can-“

“I’m not leaving in case the asshole decides to come back,” Andrew stated as he dropped down on Moreau’s bed. “You willing to be smacked around some more?”

That earned him a virulent glare. “You’re the asshole. And how do I know you’re not gonna… gonna take his place, huh?” For all of Nathaniel’s harsh words and nasty looks, his slender fingers plucked at the sweatshirt he’d draped over himself as if it was a safety blanket.

Someone didn’t have a lot of faith in him, did they? Andrew didn’t blame his soulmate, not with everything he learned about the Nest with each passing day. “Because I’m not like anyone you’ve met before,” he said as he kicked off his sneakers and stretched on top of the duvet.

Nathaniel scoffed loud enough that his throat had to ache. “They all say things like that,” he mumbled as he pulled on the sweatshirt, his gaze downcast. “That they’re special, that they’ll treat you nice, that it’ll be wonderful.” He rocked back and forth once the shirt was on, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering something and the words sounding rote as if they were someone else’s. “It’s nothing but lies.”

Andrew remembered Nathaniel’s father, the man with the emotionless eyes, and wondered if Nathaniel’s parents were soulmates as well. He wondered if they were one of the pairs who served as cautionary tales, as reminders that not all soulmates had happy endings.

He wondered if that’s what Nathaniel had been talking about when he accused Andrew of being just like ‘him’ when Andrew had let his frustration slip, back in the breakroom.

(Why Nathaniel was so comfortable with a man who wasn’t his soulmate.)

Andrew once again struggled with his drug-addled emotions, with the urge to break things, to stomp out of the small, black-walled room and the Nest and Edgar Allan, to carve off the damn soul mark from his arm and… and the thought of leaving Nathaniel defenseless stopped him cold. Instead, he clicked his tongue and rolled over onto his side until he faced the wall. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Nathaniel muttered something in Japanese, but got up a few minutes later to go into the bathroom, and several minutes after that shuffled back onto his bed and turned off the light. Andrew lay on the bed and finally relaxed when he heard his soulmate’s breathing slow about half an hour later.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, not when he waited for Riko or Federov to break into the room to take Nathaniel from him.

Nathaniel gave him an incredulous look in the morning when all he did was climb off Moreau’s bed, go into the bathroom to take a piss and then leave, desperate for coffee and his medication (not necessarily in that order). He stopped by his room first to take a pill and was on his way to one of the break rooms for caffeine when he had the dubious joy of running into a smiling Riko.

Warning bells went off immediately in his sleep-deprived head, because if Riko appeared happy about something? It rarely was good for anyone but Riko.

“Good morning,” Riko all but purred as he blocked Andrew moving down the hall.

“Not until I have my coffee,” Andrew muttered as he stared toward the break room, determined to walk past the asshole.

“Ah, not quite yet.” Unfortunately, Riko was nimble of foot and one hell of a determined asshole. “I want to talk to you about last night.” When all Andrew did was grunt in response, Riko’s left eye twitched and his smile slipped slightly. “You may be pleased to know that Jean has been declared fit to play in this Friday’s game, after a couple days of light practice. That’s good because Lev will need a few days to recover from your… disagreement last night.”

Andrew focused his attention on the manipulative asshole. “From me ‘disagreeing’ with him raping Nathaniel?”

Riko’s nose scrunched as if he’d heard something disagreeable. “You’re new to the team so you don’t understand how certain things work. And that’s how if someone does very well during a game? They get something nice as a reward.”

Rage flooded through Andrew, made his hands twitch to wrap around Riko’s throat at that ‘reward’ bit despite the latest pill; he only resisted as he thought about Aaron. “Nathaniel isn’t a ‘reward’,” he forced past teeth clenched tight.

The look bestowed upon him was one of immense pity. “There’s so much you don’t know, rookie, including how wrong you are about that.” When Andrew’s hands clenched into fists, Riko wisely took a step back. “But that’s not to say that he can’t be your reward, right? After all, he’s your soulmate,” Riko taunted.

“I don’t-“ About to spit on Riko’s offer, something in Andrew made him stop. “What do you mean?” Was this a way to keep Nathaniel safe? Out of Federov’s reach?

Riko’s smile took on a predatory edge. “I’ll admit, I was skeptical when Kevin claimed you were this amazing goalkeeper, but I’ve seen your ability.” Now the smile was wiped away by something resembling annoyance. “When you bother, that is. So here is what I’m proposing. You shut down the goal while you’re out on court during the game? Nathaniel is yours.”

Andrew was quiet as he thought about that, as he thought about his soulmate being safe. “I can’t always guarantee a complete shutdown, not against some teams.” When Riko opened his mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “Up to three goals, and only during the top three teams,” he bargained. It meant he’d have to push himself, would have to work for it (dammit)… but if it meant that Nathaniel would be safe….

He was such an idiot, wasn’t he? No matter how smart he thought he was, how he’d learned his lesson the hard way, here he was willing to bleed out for a pretty face and wide blue eyes.

(For someone who might be as fucked up as him.)

(For his other half.)

“Two goals,” Riko countered, “and Nathaniel is all yours, no one else is to touch him.” Then he laughed, the sound more cruel than amused. “Well, by a Raven at least.”

“He’s mine,” Andrew bit out as he stepped into Riko’s personal space.

There was a flash of fear in the asshole’s eyes before he flashed his usual wide grin and stepped back. “There’s pre-existing claims on our dear Nate, best get used to it.” Riko gave a mocking laugh as he walked away. “You’re so out of your league, Doe.”

Andrew brushed aside the reference to his previous life as he stared figurative daggers into the asshole’s back (oh for them to be real). Once Riko was out of sight, he headed to the break room for a much-deserved mug (or three) of coffee.

It was when he was on his second refill when he realized that he desperately needed answers, and that they most likely would only come from one of his least liked Ravens – Moreau.

*******

So now I’m trying to figure out - is the Perfect Court 1-10 or 1-9???? Obviously when I wrote this, I thought it was 1-9, but I’ve seen so much artwork since then that shows Andrew as ‘10′ so....

Probably back to the new fic unless another prompt/old fic snatches my attention. Though I’m sure I’ll get back to this at some point because ANDREW AND JEAN.

[aledethanlast]

In classical art, the subject is always depicted in the moment before the climax of the scene. A discus thrower, coiled around himself in the second before the throw. Man, a hair’s breadth away from touching God.

Imagine, then, a modern classic:

The boardroom of Castle Evermore’s East Tower was so quiet the drop of a pin could be equated to a cymbal crash. Starlight was struggling to replace electric lighting through the panes of tinted glass, and so the room kept being thrown into irregular light.

“I never wanted this chair, you know.” His hands stained the polished oak table, creating dark handprints in the dust. His back was straight, staring dead ahead, no expression to be had. Perfect neutrality, so similar yet so fundamentally different from Andrew’s. “People always thought that was my big plan, to sit here in my father’s chair. I didn’t. Not ever. I just wanted to be allowed into the room.”

Opposite Riko, a chair didn’t creak. The dust didn’t stir. A breath didn’t fill the silence. In this moment, reality deferred its presence to a voice: “Is this not better?”

“How, on earth, could this possibly be better?”

“The Moriyama name. All that power, yours to take. Not that you didn’t take it before.”

Riko tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, either for emphasis or to attempt to see better. Unclear. Unimportant. “I. Never. Wanted. It.”

“But god knows you took to it like a fish to water.”

Riko grew incensed. His temper was a tempest, always would be. It would coalesce into a storm barreling down a singular path, hell to whatever and whoever was caught beneath. Riko never cared. Maybe he should have. “I should kill you.”

Now that, that earns him a laugh, but not an amused one. It’s the chuckle you get out of the person forced into the butt of the joke. “Riko, you should’ve killed me eight years nine months and four days ago.”

He doesn’t respond. It’s not his turn to speak just yet.

“But you decided to kill him instead.”

Another beam of light, just a flash, but it’s enough to cleave the man’s face. Ironically enough, the blue of his one visible eye blazes more sharply than his hair, red like dying embers. The curls of his youth — and his father — are gone, instead it’s all slicked back severely, highlighting his widow’s peak. Even his face belonged to the Classics: calm, reserved, but speaking of strength and solidity. A role model and aspiration for those who gazed upon it.

How foolish.

Nathaniel. Eight years, nine months and five days ago, that name was a taunt, a secret Riko lorded over his head. But Nathaniel never cooperated. He insisted on resistance, dug his heels in when he should’ve run. It was funny at first, watching his feeble attempts to push stone walls, but it was hard to keep laughing when Nathaniel was tearing down his world brick by brick.

So Riko had tried to tear down his foundations.

He’d eschewed any pretense at dignity. They’d found Minyard’s body in pieces, half rotted on a riverbank in Georgia. It was funny at the time. A final knockout blow to the Foxes.

It was one of the very few things Riko ever grew to regret.

“Do you want an apology?” Riko asked. Finally, something surprised Nathaniel, even mildly.

He arched an eyebrow. “Why in the hell would I want an apology?”

Riko shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t just be here to gloat.”

“Gloat. Gloat over what, exactly?”

Riko was growing tired of this circular thinking. He had half a notion that Nathaniel didn’t even plan what he would say when he came here. Perhaps he didn’t even intend to talk at all, for once. “You’re joking right? You’re telling me you aren’t head to make some grand speech about your revenge, to smear the blood on your hands in my face—“

“Big words, considering the circumstances.”

“You really want to compare our sins, Wesninski?”

“Actually, I was talking about you ruining the table.”

Riko lifted a hand off of the dark wood. In the dim light, the red smears barely shone, like oils not yet dry. “Yes, well. You’re not one for doing things cleanly, are you?”

“Clean,” Nathaniel said. “Interesting word choice. My mother didn’t die clean. Andrew didn’t die clean. The Moriyama’s don’t do clean. You do fast, you do messy. I felt like returning the favor.” Emotion crept into his voice. Like he actually cared about what happened here tonight.

“You want to know who wanted clean, Riko? The Matsumotos. They wanted to see you fall apart from the comfort of their own home, the international courts fighting over who gets what.”

Riko’s brows furrowed. “Then why are you here?”

“Because fuck clean!” Nathaniel rose up from the table, leaving streaks of bright red where his hands touches the table. Riko’s clothes were ruined, but at least he was wearing black and red, hiding the damage. Nathaniel, on the other head, only had dress slacks and a white button-down shirt, highlighting the trail of blood which rode up his sleeves and torso. Finally, classical idealism evolved, as it always did, into the climax of hellenism. “You destroyed everything I had, so I’m returning the favor. Honestly, I was nicer about it than you were. I let you be there when they died.”

“You took my family,” Riko said, thinking of the bodies still cooling downstairs.

“I did.”

“You took my reputation,” Riko said, thinking of interviews gone wrong,of article after tell-all after mysterious security leak, of letter bombs and failed merchandise and unsold tickets.

“I did.”

“You took Exy,” Riko said, looking to the windows. Outside, Castle Evermore stood derelict. Glass shattered, seats stolen, court ruined. Nobody but Riko had visited this place before tonight in years, not even Tetsuji.

“I did.”

Here, then, is our climax: a man robbed of everything, confronted by his mirror. A cycle at its conclusion, the wheel snapping at the spokes. This is where it ends.

“I should push you out this window. Nobody would recognize the body. Not that anyone would come here to see it.”

“Try,” Nathaniel said. A new sound joined the conversation. An old friend of them both, devoid of allegiance but never undependable. The sound of a cocking gun.

“I’d take you down with me.”

[ohsweetflips]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter twenty-nine

A/N: please read end notes as it regards notes abt the final chapter of this fic

read on ao3

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Corruption was crawling over the walls of Castle Evermore. It loomed over Nathaniel, staring down at him, as he exited the car. Lord Ichirou’s driver said no word to him before driving off. Nathaniel watched the car leave before turning his stare back to the building. The early-afternoon sun glinted off the windows and Nathaniel felt that he could look through it into the inner, dark, twisted set up of Castle Evermore.

Nathaniel looked forward to the only door that led to both freedom and hell, depending on whether you were leaving or entering. He allowed himself to step through the door that Kevin escaped through, knowing that this was one more step closer to the end.

Tetsuji was not in his office. Nathaniel nodded at the empty room. He was in the right to not be in Nathaniel’s line of sight. Tetsuji was just as guilty as Riko was. Riko didn’t have on-hand connections with Kengo and Lord Ichirou’s contacts, who else would he had gotten them from?

Nathaniel wondered if Tetsuji was proud of what he did, of the manipulation and abuse he put on the children and adults that have been put in his care. He had taken lives that had potential and crafted them into what he wanted them to be, even if it required breaking them so that they could heal catered to him.

The court was empty. Nathaniel didn’t have his phone on him, he left it in the locker room because he didn’t think he would need a phone when he was dead, but he didn’t have to look at the time to know that the Ravens were meant to be practicing.

He didn’t know where Tetsuji was, but he knew where Riko would be. Riko would be downstairs, feigning confusion over where their backliner had gone, expecting to hear news that he was six feet under. He would pretend to mourn over Nathaniel, as if he meant more than dirt to Riko, while rejoicing over the fact that he thought he won. Maybe Tetsuji was hiding, maybe he knew that Nathaniel survived, but Riko believed that he had come out on top.

Riko was going to wish that he went into hiding.

Nathaniel crossed across the empty court and through the empty locker room and descended the stairs. The thin, dark stairwell was suffocating. Nathaniel could feel the chill rising up from the depths of it but he willed himself forward. No matter how much his chest seized or how his eyes had yet to take adjustment to the dim lightning, Nathaniel was not afraid.

When Nathaniel reached the Ravens’ lounge, Riko Moriyama was already staring at him. He must have heard the door open and hoped that it was anyone else but the boy he thought he killed. Nathaniel stared back. Riko’s neck had finger-shaped bruises around it and his eyes were full of what could only be described as sheer panic. It was just him and Nathaniel in the lounge, all the others had flocked somewhere else. Now would be the only time that Riko revealed any true weakness that did not stem from mania. No, this look in his eyes, this fear, gave Nathaniel the idea that Riko finally realized that he was not going to win. Riko knew that things were going to change when he broke Kevin’s hand, knew things were breaking when the Directors searched their dorms, but right here, right now, Riko now knew that what he had done was irreversible and that his demise was inevitable.

Nathaniel wondered what it would feel like to snap Riko’s neck with his own hands, to give him even an ounce of the pain that he caused everyone else. But Nathaniel decided that that would be too nice. Riko deserved nothing short of complete and utter suffering. Nathaniel would make sure that Riko watched his own destruction and that it killed him.

Nathaniel blinked and saw his father behind his eyes, but this was not a Wesninski attitude. A Wesninski killed because, to a Wesninski, there was no other option. You either worked with him, or you were dead. A Wesninski had no sense of justice, no sense of fighting for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves. Nathaniel felt something in his heart pull, and he hoped it was pulling away from Nathan Wesninski.

“You’ll have to try harder than that next time,” Nathaniel said. “If you even get that far.”

Riko stared. Nathaniel placed two fingers to his temple and then flicked them out in a bid goodbye to his captain.

He turned and headed down the hallway to the single-digit dormitories.

He didn’t process stopping, but he found his hand on the doorknob of a door that was not his. It might as well have been because the door led to a room that felt something like what home was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t thinking, he just pushed the door open because it was something that had become natural and had become his and it hadn’t occurred to him until he stepped in and saw blonde hair and hazel eyes and a tattooed five that he was never supposed to be here again.

“Nathaniel,” Andrew Minyard’s voice blew through him and Nathaniel watched as Andrew took fast steps to close the gap between them. Andrew’s steps were heartbeats in Nathaniel’s ear and that life broke something inside Nathaniel that had been waiting to burst.

He didn’t realize what was happening until his face was already wet but, for the first time in a very long while, Nathaniel Wesninski cried.

“You idiot,” Andrew said in a voice that Nathaniel could hear no menace in. “You absolute fucking idiot.” Andrew kicked the door shut behind them, keeping him and Nathaniel in their own bubble of privacy.

Nathaniel’s knees buckled and the only thing that stopped him from collapsing was Andrew cushioning him to the floor. He pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to stop the tears that continued to fall as sobs racked through his body.

“Nathaniel, breathe,” Andrew ordered, his voice sounding far away in Nathaniel’s ears.

“I can’t,” Nathaniel rasped out.

He was never supposed to see this again.

“You’re here, Nathaniel.”

If timing had been one second off, Nathaniel would have been dead.

“I was never supposed to see you again.” Nathaniel’s hands reached forward, desperate for something to hold onto, needing something to keep him from falling any further, but stopped an inch from Andrew’s shirt. To breathe hurt, his body trembled, and he needed Andrew, but only if Andrew would accept him back.

One of Andrew’s hands grabbed Nathaniel’s and pressed it to his chest, while the other clasped the back of his neck. He brought Nathaniel in closer and Nathaniel rested his head in the crook of Andrew’s neck. He breathed him in, finding that Andrew was the one thing to clear his lungs of cobwebs and stop his heart from killing him with each beat. To feel Andrew’s own beneath his hand reminded himself that he was here and that this was real.

“I was never supposed to see you again,” Nathaniel repeated, his voice weak and muffled in Andrew’s neck.

“I don’t think I’d be able to get rid of you that easily,” Andrew said with no malice in his voice.

Nathaniel managed a smile and a wet laugh. “You aren’t that lucky,” he mumbled.

“Nathaniel,” Andrew said, the syllables coming off his tongue smoothly. “I distinctly remember telling you to not come crying to me when shit went wrong.”

Nathaniel nodded, Andrew’s shirt crinkling in his grip. “I’ve never been the best listener.”

“So I’ve learned.”

Andrew then let him sit in silence, breathing him in until he was able to calm down. Finally, he pulled away, using one hand to still hold onto Andrew and the other to rub at his eyes. He then turned his gaze up to Andrew.

“Nathan Wesninski is dead,” he said.

“And you managed to escape him,” Andrew noted.

“Lord Ichirou killed him,” Nathaniel explained. “He followed orders that weren’t his Lord’s. It was a fatal offense.”

Andrew nodded. “It appears that Riko is doing our job for us. He’s a bigger idiot than you are. You just almost get yourself killed and be the martyr that no one asked for. He, however, makes faulty plans that will eventually kill him.”

Andrew’s tone was even, but Nathaniel could hear the hardness of his words. He wasn’t going to ask about it, he wasn’t going to press, but he had a feeling that Andrew had not taken Nathaniel’s disappearance lightly. He then thought of the bruises around Riko’s neck and found his answer.

“He would have hurt you,” Nathaniel said quietly, hoping that Andrew would understand.

“I don’t care about that,” Andrew said, and the that implied that there was something else Andrew cared about more, or perhaps someone else.

“I do,” Nathaniel said. “If I hadn’t broken off our deal, it would have eventually killed you. We Ravens are supposed to go down together, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I knew that I killed you, too.”

“You’re an idiot, Nathaniel,” Andrew said, leaning in closer. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Nathaniel breathed, tension leaving his body as their lips pressed together.

Love wasn’t a word that was commonly used in Nathaniel’s vocabulary. It was a concept he never learned. Ravens didn’t love, they fucked. And if they even wanted anything more, they didn’t have the time. The Perfect Court wasn’t allowed it. They weren’t permitted any luxuries that would distract them from the success that their future held. Love was something that was unknown to Nathaniel, and he used to find himself fearing it. The love that his mother had for him turned fatal, and even that love would have just introduced him to a life of always running away. To love meant to give someone enough of you and trust that they wouldn’t break you. The thought of giving Nathaniel enough of himself to someone was always terrifying to him. He had always focused on surviving, he couldn’t risk letting feelings and another person get in the way of that. But as Nathaniel studied Andrew, he realized that he trusted Andrew with pieces of him and trusted Andrew to not break them. He trusted Andrew enough to perhaps compromise his future and risk his own life if it meant being able to achieve freedom with him.

Nathaniel realized that, perhaps, the word love had never really been so foreign to him.

Andrew stayed with Nathaniel that day. It wasn’t a decision that the two spoke about, but it was one that was already accepted. When Nathaniel was composed enough to leave, he stood, and Andrew did, too, and that was that.

Night came, and Nathaniel was sitting on his bed, his legs tucked up to his chest. Andrew was sitting across from him, his own legs crossed. The clock on the bedside table said that it was just past midnight. The entire day, the nest made no sound, and no practices were held.

Nathaniel stared down at the bandages around his hands and wrists. He could feel the gashes and burns under them.

“They’re going to scar,” he said quietly. He turned his wrists over and back, trying to see if he could see the way they’re healing under the bandages.

“They will,” Andrew agreed. There had been no sadness in Nathaniel’s voice, and no pity in Andrew’s. Nathaniel appreciated that.

“I want them to heal,” Nathaniel continued on, keeping his eyes locked his hands. “The Trojans play the Foxes in two days. And then spring championships is in two weeks. I want the Foxes to win against the Trojans, and then I want to play against them.”

“Even after playing the martyr,” Andrew said. “You’re still a junkie.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Even after playing the martyr,” he repeated. He then looked up at Andrew. “I need to call Jean.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“I just… need to,” he said. He needed to tell him about what Lord Ichirou said, but more so, Nathaniel just wanted to know if he could hear his old roommate’s voice.

Renee Walker’s number was still where Nathaniel shoved it in his bed side drawer. He was impressed with Riko for not going through his shit when he thought that Nathaniel was dead. Probably the first time in Riko’s worthless life that anyone was ever impressed with him.

Andrew watched him as Nathaniel attempted to dial the neatly written number. Nathaniel assumed that Andrew finally grew tired of watching Nathaniel’s bandaged fingers fumble and mess up the numbers over and over because, eventually, he took the phone from Nathaniel and dialed the number himself.

“You still have her number,” Andrew said.

“Jealous?” Nathaniel asked while the phone was ringing, his eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“Didn’t think you were the type to blindly trust strangers.”

“Well you also didn’t think I was anything. And yet.”

“You’re nothing,” Andrew said, but Nathaniel swatted his hand to quiet him because Renee answered on the other line.

“Hello?” she said, her voice soft. He could hear other girls talking behind her.

“Renee,” Nathaniel said. “It’s Nathaniel.” A short pause. “Wesninski.”

“Oh,” Nathaniel could hear the surprise in her voice. “Nathaniel, hello. Is everything alright? Are you okay?” She must have been assuming that, since Nathaniel was calling again, Evermore must have been burning to the ground. The girls in the background stopped talking.

“I’m fine,” Nathaniel said and leveled Andrew’s heavy stare with his own. “That’s not what’s important. I wanted…” He worried his bottom lip. “Is Jean around?”

Renee paused on the other end. “Actually, he isn’t,” she finally said and something that felt like either disappointment or fear went through his gut. She must have sensed Nathaniel’s sudden shift in attitude because she quickly followed up with, “He’s safe. I can’t tell you where he is. Not yet. You’ll find out. But he’s safe.”

“Well, this is kind of important,” Nathaniel urged, hoping that she’d give him something, anything. “Is there any way I could contact him?”

“I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” Renee said. “But I think it would be best for you to learn from Jean on your own, when it happens. He’s not…” She hesitated and Nathaniel knew what she was attempting to find a way to word nicely.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Nathaniel answered for her. “Or any Raven in general.” The feeling of fear in his gut lessened while the disappointment amplified.

“I’m sorry,” Renee repeated with genuine sorrow in her voice. Nathaniel still wondered how a girl who seemed to be so nice and so normal was a Palmetto State Fox.

“It’s okay,” Nathaniel assured. “I can understand. Well, if you hear from him, wish him the best.”

“Always,” Renee said, and Nathaniel found himself glad that Jean had recuperated with people, or at least one person, who was able to support him.

--

The Foxes had their game against the Trojans. The Ravens were gathered in their common room, staring at the TV. Most were prepared for a laughing stock. The nine team Foxes against the twenty-eight player Trojans with people like Jeremy Knox, Sara Alvarez, and Laila Dermott on their line (no one was going to mention that the Foxes had Kevin Day)? Most Ravens were excited to see the Foxes finally fall. Even Nathaniel admitted to himself that he was terrified; this was the last stepping stone that separated Fox from Raven and it was, by far, the largest one.

No Raven had mentioned Nathaniel’s return, or his sudden disappearance. They all acted like he never disappeared and that Evermore did not halt to a stop with his absence. He wondered if Andrew tried to strangle Riko in front of everybody and they were just refusing to mention it. Nathaniel wished that the Ravens would start to speak up more seeing that their Captain was dragging them down, but it appeared that old habits died hard because Nathaniel assumed that Riko told them to stay quiet. And stay quiet they did.

Nathaniel and Andrew were sitting on the loveseat together, their eyes glued to the TV. Riko was directly across the room for them in his usual recliner. Nathaniel had to admit to himself that he feared how confident Riko looked; Riko expected the Foxes to fail miserably.

The Trojan stadium was decked in red and gold. Even through the TV, Nathaniel could hear the intensity of the screams. The Trojans were just finishing their warm ups, the Foxes soon theirs.

In the short minutes that the Trojans had before the game, captain Jeremy Knox was pulled aside by a reporter.

Nathaniel assumed that Kevin must have felt blessed in the presence of his favorite athlete.

“Jeremy Knox, hello,” the reporter said, smiling.

“Hi!” Jeremy beamed a smile that put the sun to shame. Every athlete in Class I Exy knew that there was a reason that the Trojans one the best sportsmanship award, and it started with their captain.

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“As ready as we can be,” Jeremy said. “The Foxes have proven this year to be determined athletes. I know for a fact that tonight’s game won’t be easy. While we have earned our place here, so have the Foxes. We’re just going to have to play our best and give it our all out there.”

The reporter nodded eagerly. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve heard rumors about Jean Moreau, a former rival of yours, returning to the court next season. How do you feel about that, knowing that you could be facing his team soon?”

Jeremy nodded. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard that, too,” he said. “But I’m not worried because, Jean is returning to the court, yes, but he won’t be back in black.”

Suddenly, everything Renee said clicked into place.

“We were worried that red and gold wouldn’t fit Jean’s complexion, but we know we can make it work,” Jeremy continued on, smiling. “We just have to get him in the sun for a little bit and he’ll be good as gold.”

Nathaniel didn’t pay attention to what the reporter said. He, instead, was focused on Riko and the dead stare he had towards the TV.

Two of Riko’s Perfect Court had left him for rival teams.

A laugh actually bubbled in Nathaniel’s chest -one of satisfaction for seeing Riko come closer and closer to crumbling, one of joy for knowing that Jean was truly safe- but he covered it with a cough into his fist.

“Another waste of potential,” Riko said. It sounded like he said it so that his nerves would calm, and not because he believed it.

Nathaniel wanted to quip back that no, actually, Jean was going to do amazing on the Trojans, but he wanted to go into Championships with as few black eyes as possible.

Andrew and Nathaniel still shared a look, however.

Seconds before the Trojans were supposed to be called out, the announcer said, “We have just heard from the court, apparently there has been a change in the Trojans’ lineup.”

All Raven eyes were on the TV.

“To mimic their opponents,” the announcer continued. “The Trojans have decided to adjust their lineup so that they, too, only have nine players for the entire game. When Coach Henderson and Captain Jeremy Knox were asked about the sudden change, they said that they both agreed on it. It was Knox’s idea, and he wanted to see if the Trojans were good because they truly were, and not just because they were a team of twenty-eight going against a team of nine.”

Holy shit, Nathaniel thought. The Foxes could do this.

The Foxes, because of their small numbers and the fact that their third striker, Janie Smalls, barely played in games anymore, were forced to play both halves with barely any subs. For months, they trained playing full hour and a half games. While being small in number, they most likely dominated other teams in endurance. A huge team like the Trojans never had to worry about not having any subs; they could switch out people as they pleased.

It seemed that Jeremy Knox not only had a sense of fairness, but knew how to make an even match.

“Jeremy Knox is an idiot,” Riko said, his voice full of scorn.

“Jeremy Knox is smart,” Nathaniel said, making forceful eye contact with him. “What he said was completely right. When you have so many players, you can switch out who you want. You don’t need endurance. Obviously a team like that is going to be better against a team of nine, no matter their endurance, because one set of players are new and energized while the other set have already been playing for fuck knows how long. Exy is a sport based on skill and strategy, and constantly switching out players isn’t a sound or fair one. Playing nine and nine shows which team really deserves their win.”

“I don’t recall fucking asking, Wesninski,” Riko spit the final word out thinking that it would hurt Nathaniel. Nathaniel smirked, knowing that Wesninski was going to be what hurt Riko instead.

Nathaniel had never seen the Foxes fight harder. They knew, he knew, the world knew, that they were only one game away from Championships, and that they’re opponents would be their most difficult ones yet. They knew they were down in players, some might argue skill, too, but they were up in endurance. And for this game, it was enough. The Trojans played their heart out for the first half, finishing it two points ahead of the Foxes. It was a start of the ignorant; they didn’t know how to make nine players last for an hour and a half. They played as if they would be switched out for next half.

The Trojans might have known how to make a powerful start, but the Foxes knew how to make a powerful finish.

When the final buzzer rang out with the Foxes two points ahead, Nathaniel actually found himself excited for Championships. The Foxes had proven to be worthy rivals, and even if Nathaniel knew what the outcome would have to be,  he was ready to see the fight that the Foxes had.

--

Kevin answered his phone on the second ring.

Andrew and Nathaniel were seated in Nathaniel’s room, across from each other on his bed. It was an hour after the Foxes’ game ended and Nathaniel was eager to talk to his old teammate.

Even though Riko wouldn’t try anything so close to Championships, Nathaniel still locked his door just to be safe.

“How does it feel to beat your celebrity crush as a Fox?” Nathaniel asked when Kevin answered. Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Great,” Kevin said. “We fought hard. It was a deserved win.”

Nathaniel was pretty sure he heard Matt Boyd shout “Fuck yeah it was!” in the background.

“Actually complimenting the Foxes?” Nathaniel questioned. “In their presence? Kevin, you’ve changed.”

“Fuck off,” Kevin said, but Nathaniel wasn’t completely kidding. When Kevin left the nest, he was a destroyed man, physically and mentally. He had never been in a situation where he did not have another half. He never had to be on his own. It was always Riko and Kevin. For the first time, it was just Kevin Day, no one else tacked on. Joining the Foxes, Kevin was difficult. He was frustrated with himself for not being able to play and even more so with his new teammates’ reluctance to listen. Kevin thought he was at rock bottom with no chance of getting out.

But Kevin did. He followed Nathaniel and Andrew in wanting to destroy the Ravens, but also started to become his own person outside of them. The Kevin he knew from the Nest would have never been so bold as to go as far as revealing the corruption of the Ravens on live television.

Kevin changed. He was a right-handed Exy player, #2 for the formerly last place Palmetto State Foxes. He was stronger, he had a better footing on the ground and wasn’t waiting for someone to pull him along, directing him how to breathe.

Kevin Day was in a better place.

“I guess we’ll be seeing you in about two weeks,” Nathaniel said.

“Twelve days,” Kevin replied. “Be ready.”

“We will be, but that’s actually why we called,” Nathaniel said. He then put the phone on speaker. Andrew’s eyes drifted to the phone now held out in front of him but said nothing. Nathaniel lowered his voice as he continued to speak. “The Foxes need to win. We all know that. But we can’t throw a game. If either of us look like we’re not trying in the first half, Coach will take us off the court.”

Kevin sighed. “I was thinking the same thing. We’ve been practicing Raven drills here, we know the techniques that can be used by and against us, but it still won’t be easy.”

“It never was easy,” Andrew suddenly said. He then took the phone from Nathaniel’s hand. “There’s one thing that can work, but you need to play smart, Kevin.”

“What is it?” Kevin asked.

“Pick a number from one to ten,” Andrew said. Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows.

“Andrew, what does that-”

“Pick a number or I’m hanging up and breaking the phone,” Andrew threatened.

Kevin huffed out a breath. “Fine,” he said, then hesitated, thinking. “Six.”

“That’s how many points you get first half, play it well,” Andrew said. “But listen closely, Kevin. I am not giving you a point each time you try to shoot. You and Gordon have to earn it, otherwise you’re not getting it. Nathaniel will not be giving up his game-” Andrew’s eyes shot up to him. “It’s solely you and me. Play the first half well, for once second half starts you’re all on your own and what happens, happens.” Andrew paused, letting the gravity of his words sit over the three. “Have your Foxes ready because the Ravens aren’t going down without a fight.”

“I wouldn’t want them any other way,” Kevin said. “We’re ready here. Everything will be left on the court.”

“Remember what I said Kevin,” Andrew said. “Six, and it’s not guaranteed. Don’t expect an easy fight because I’m giving you something.”

“I know you’re not that nice,” Kevin said.

“I’m not,” Andrew agreed. In lieu of a goodbye, he merely turned speaker off and handed the phone back to Nathaniel.

“Twelve days,” Nathaniel repeated.

“Yeah,” Kevin said quietly. “Anything else?”

Nathaniel hesitated. Kevin was eventually going to find out what happened to Nathan Wesninski and what Riko did. But he didn’t feel like that was a conversation to be had over the phone. “It’s March now,” he went with instead. “You’ve been with the Foxes for almost a year now. How’s it been?”

“It’s been something,” Kevin said and let out something that sounded like a laugh. “But… we’ve all worked hard. These people… my teammates… they’ve helped. I thought I was going to be coming here to help them and only that but… I got so much more than what I expected.”

Kevin really, truly changed.

What he said next, Nathaniel didn’t catch.

“What?”

“He knows,” Kevin repeated. “I told him.”

Nathaniel thought for a moment, trying to figure out who Kevin was talking about, when it suddenly clicked in his brain.

“You told Wymack?” he asked. “How’d he take it?”

Kevin’s voice was so quiet that Nathaniel had to strain to hear it over the background noise. “He was upset, but not because he didn’t want… this. He wishes he could have been there more. He wants… we both want to be closer. I haven’t had the opportunity for an actual family since my mom…” Kevin trailed off and Nathaniel understood. He thought of Kevin, the boy who had his mother taken from him by the same people who took him in afterwards. Kevin, who was forced to live under a stadium for his entire life, stuck with a man who could care less about children and an exy brother who would only betray him in the end.

“I hope you get that opportunity again, Kevin,” Nathaniel said.

“Yeah, me too,” Kevin said. “Thanks.”

Nathaniel nodded. “We’ll talk to you-”

“Wait, Nathaniel?” Kevin interrupted.

“Yeah?”

There was a pause on the other line. Finally, Kevin said, “Good luck.”

Nathaniel smiled, even though Kevin wouldn’t see it. “You too, Kevin.”

[c-valentino]

Clipped Wings

Fandom: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic

Rating: M

Characters:

Riko Moriyama/Kevin Day, Neil Josten, Ichirou Moriyama, Andrew Minyard

Warnings:

Graphic Depictions of Violence, AU

Summery:

Riko Moriyama survives the meeting of Neil and his brother after the Raven’s lost game - but at what price?   Kevin would never accept that some people declared a life not worth living anymore - least of all the young man he had grown up with. 

Chapter One - Broken crown

“Riko Moriyama is Not suicidal”, Kevin Day said with conviction.

“Well, seems he is”, Matt answered, “Did you seen his interview? He stepped down. Looked like a ghost.”

Last week, the Ravens had made it public: Riko Moriyama was stepping down as team captain and leaving the Ravens. All hell had broken loose on social media. Watching the interview had made Kevin’s skin crawl, but he had spoken to no one about it. His own team was still celebrating their well-deserved victory and Neil’s freedom.

This evening, the Exy sports community had held its breath when the news about Riko Moriyama’s suicide attempt had gone viral. The young striker had been found near death after OD’ing. Riko Moriyama doesn’t do drugs, Kevin thought bitterly. Something was very wrong here.

A week ago

Tetsuji stood up and left the room after Neil had entered, only Riko was left behind sitting on a couch, the white of his cast poking out from under his sleeve. Neil looked at it with satisfaction.

“You have cost the Ravens their coach. Are you satisfied?” Ichirou was facing him, observing him, and Neil felt a cold shiver running down his spine. He straightened and turned his gaze away from Riko.

“Your people are safe, as are mine. Yes, I’m satisfied.” How someone could smile as coldly as this man, Neil couldn’t comprehend, yet it came so easily, so naturally to this man.

“Let them call you by whatever name they like. You will always be a Wesninski at heart.” Ichirou gestured to Neil, beckoning him closer and he obeyed. "This situation requires a clean slate. " Ichirou stepped over to his little brother who didn't realized it at first and then looked up in utter bewilderment. "Get up," Ichirou ordered and Riko stood, head lowered. "I'm sure you've realized that words from my brother mean precious little," the older Moriyama addressed Neil without facing him.

"You are right about that…,” the backliner had to agree. The whole situation was a little unnerving for him. Riko, who had usually something to say, was as silent as a grave.

“I usually am,” the mobster said in a quiet, thoughtful voice that revealed that he had already moved on to other matters. “Now, let’s get this out of the way.” He grabbed Riko by the back of his neck and shoved him forward. The younger Moriyama stumbled two steps in Neil’s direction but didn’t utter any sound of protest. “謝れ,” Ichirou told him in that same quiet voice. Neil kept looking between them, but then it was Riko who lowered his head again, this time in front of him. “もっと,” his brother ordered him. The younger Moriyama gritted his teeth, then bowed, actually bowed, in front of Neil.

“I apologize,” he said, and Neil could hear how much that had cost him. The backliner looked questioningly at Ichirou, asking himself if this should mean anything to him. Yes, it was unexpected, but an apology hardly cut it in this kind of situation.

“You seem unsatisfied,” the crime lord observed.

“I didn’t say that,” Neil replied, remembering his place. He looked back at Riko, who had straightened again but refused to meet his gaze.

“You didn’t have to. And why shouldn’t you be? I hear my brother took care of you last Christmas.” Neil only nodded. “Did he show you his favorite knife?” Neil’s thought he could feel his scars burn as that memory was dragged out of him again by the man’s cold voice.

“He did,” he replied, fighting to keep his voice even. Riko didn’t react.

“I thought he might. It was a gift from your father, actually.” Neil narrowed his eyes at that. Ichirou held one hand up and one of his men stepped forward to hand him the very knife Neil had last seen at Castle Evermore. It was definitely the same one; he’d have recognized it anywhere. Ichirou faced his brother and handed him the knife. For an absurd moment Neil imagined the striker using it to attack him or his brother, but Riko hesitated before he took it, then stood there like a mannequin. The firstborn son spoke in a low and commanding voice to him. Neil couldn’t understand anything he said. He had never learned Japanese. Whatever Ichirou said though, it made Riko’s eyes widen and the color drain from his face.

It took him a while, and then, after forcing a few breaths in and out of his lungs, Riko muttered a single, hoarse, “No.”  It sounded almost pleadingly in Neil’s ears. The older brother huffed in disgust. He took the knife back and Riko gave it up without resistance.

“I’ve told my brother that he could choose one of his fingers to cut off. It seems though that he is too weak to go through with it.” Too weak, Neil thought, or just not stupid enough? He wouldn’t do it in Riko’s place. “Now, since he is a fool, he just lost his right to choose. So why don’t you do it for him?” The man offered the knife to Neil instead.

“What?” The young backliner just stared at it, unable to comprehend for a second.

“Cut his finger off.” It wasn’t an offer, nor was it a request. It was an order. Neil’s eyes switched between the knife and Riko. The young striker looked absolutely horrified but still didn’t protest. Neil had always guessed that his family wasn’t the only dysfunctional one; now he knew it for sure. Slowly, he reached for the offered knife. He deserved it, he thought bitterly, Riko fucking deserved it. Not only for what he had done last Christmas. He deserved it for Seth, for Jean, for Kevin, and most of all for Andrew.

“You know what?” he hissed at Riko, “One wouldn’t be enough.” He meant it to be intimidating.

“In that case, go ahead. Take all of them, if you like.” Whatever plea had crawled up Riko’s throat when hearing his brother’s words died and turned into a choking sound instead.

“You fucking deserve this,” Neil hissed in a low voice as he stepped right in front of the self-claimed King of Exy. “I should take your thumbs. Let’s see how you are going to hold a racquet then. I should ruin you hand, like you did with Kevin.” He practically spat his friend’s name at the young man in front of him. He waited for Riko to defend himself, to attack him, to try to run away; but none of that was forthcoming. The young man just stood there right in front of him, terrified.

“Don’t do this,” Riko whispered, his voice thick with fear. “Don’t take them, please!”

“Did you make Kevin beg too?”

“Don’t…”

“Did you make him beg?” Neil suddenly screamed.

“No, I didn’t,” Riko gritted out, and the young backliner was right in his face, gripping the knife until his knuckles turned white.

“What about your pet doctor Frankenstein? Did he make Andrew beg? Huh? When he drugged him, when he fucking tortured him, touched him, humiliated him, did he make him beg?”

“I don’t know,” Riko whispered and swallowed hard when his voice started to fade.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Nathaniel, I swear—“

“Don’t call me that!” And suddenly the knife was at Riko’s throat. He hadn’t even realized it. But there it was, his own hand holding it to that pale neck. “You might not get it, but not all of us beg for our father’s approval. —Not like you’d ever understand.” Riko just closed his eyes and and forced one deep breath in and out of his lungs.

“You know… Since you enjoyed inking me so much, why don’t you let me show you what I think would be perfect for you?” Neil asked, his tone carefully stripped of all emotion. He grabbed the young Moriyama by the hair, then pressed the tip of the knife into his skin, right next to the tattooed I on his cheek. He cut downwards diagonally, slicing the smooth skin deep enough that it would leave a scar. Blood was running down Riko’s cheek, the red a harsh contrast to his pale skin. The striker was taking harsh breaths now, his eyes clenched shut, his tightly clenched fists trembling at his sides. He was shaking with the restraint it took him not to bolt or attack Neil in this situation. The consequence of either would be fatal.

Neil took the knife away and admired his handiwork. He felt strangely detached from the whole situation, as if he was watching himself. He had cut a ∤ into the young Moriyama’s cheek. ‘Does not divide’ —he couldn’t think of anything more accurate. Riko would never come between him and any of his friends ever again. He wouldn’t let him.

“You would have made your father proud,” Ichirou said from behind him and Neil’s shoulders stiffen. He yanked Riko’s head back viciously and let go of him.

“Maybe. That’s the last thing I want though,” Neil answered, then turned around. He handed the knife back to the mobster, offering him the hilt first, while holding on to the bloody blade. Ichirou accepted it, then cocked his head in question. “I won’t cut his fingers off. I want to crush him on the court.” It was his chosen battleground in this crazy world of criminals. It was where he actually could fight and beat them.

“Oh, I’m afraid you won’t get that chance again. You see, my brother is retiring tonight.”

“Retiring?” Neil couldn’t believe it. First Tetsuji, now Riko.

“He will never play Exy again.” Neil didn’t dare to turn around and look at Riko at that moment. He didn’t want to see what that sentence had done to the young man. Never play Exy again? Unthinkable. Exy was the air they breathed. Exy was what they lived for; he, Kevin and Riko. Someone had cut them from the same cloth before they were born.

“May I go now?” he requested. He needed to get out of here. He had gotten what he had always wanted; his freedom. He couldn’t wait to get home, to go to sleep and wake up the next morning, knowing he was a free man. It was such a foreign concept to him.

“You may,” Ichirou dismissed him. Neil lowered his head respectfully, then turned on his heels to leave the room. Behind him he could hear the mobster giving orders in his ice cold tone again. His two men stepped forward and grabbed Riko by the shoulders and hands, straightening his fingers.

“Ichirou,” Riko pleaded weakly. It took two men to hold him down while his brother raised the knife and cut along the fingers of his outstretched hand, deep enough to bare the white of bones, slicing through nerves and tendons of all four fingers. Blood was gushing from the wounds in a red river down Riko’s arm, dripping to the floor and staining the carpet, while one of the men bent his fingers back until the bones almost snapped and splintered. The older Moriyama didn’t cut his brother’s finger off. He just made sure Riko would never regain the feeling in them again, would never regain their full motor-function, or hold a racquet tightly enough to step onto the court. His brother would never play again. The young King of Exy was screaming by then; in horror, in despair, in pain —Neil didn’t know, but the sound from behind the closing door chilled him to the bone, would never leave him ever again.

                                                                                                                next>>

[ohsweetflips]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter twenty-three

chapter summary: okay so you know that song that goes "oh shit,,,,,,,,,, oH SHIT" ??? yeah

tw(s): nsfw ahead

read on ao3

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Nathaniel wasn’t worried for the Foxes. While the Ravens had lost two of their best players, causing a need for athletes out of the Perfect Court to step into Kevin and Jean’s place, the Foxes had a national champion and worked using Raven drills and tactics. By the time January rolled around, the Foxes had their place secured in the spring championships and were on their way to being in the death matches. With Kevin on their line and Nathaniel and Andrew motivating the Foxes from the outside, the Foxes increased their point gaps and wins.

The Ravens remained on top while the Foxes worked from the ground up. It was much easier to remain on top than to start from nothing; Nathaniel’s confidence in the Foxes was growing sturdier and sturdier.

The orange grew less obnoxious each time Nathaniel saw it on their TVs in the lounge.

What added glitter to gold, though, wasn't just the Foxes wins or knowing that Jean was in a better place; it was what happened on February 17th. Lord Kengo Moriyama was a powerful man with a tendency for violence and murder. He was the one who called Nathan Wesninski to his side to be The Butcher, the executioner for the Moriyamas. Lord Kengo was the man who was going to have Nathaniel killed because he didn't believe his lackeys’ positions should be passed down through family. The only reason Nathaniel was still alive today was because he proved he was good enough at Exy to be a Raven.

Lord Kengo Moriyama was also an old man, and with his age came sickness. Over the course of almost three months, more and more people who worked for the Moriyamas came into Evermore to discuss the depletion of their Lord’s health. They had to figure out what would happen when he finally died and his first son Ichirou took the family business.

On February 15th, that day finally came. February 17th was the funeral, and while Kengo’s brother Tetsuji was attending, his second and abandoned son Riko didn’t even receive an invite from his older brother. Nathaniel, being one of the many who hated Riko Moriyama along with his family, felt no pity for Riko and no grief for Lord Kengo.

Riko, however, felt otherwise. Despite barely even knowing his brother, and his father for the matter, his hairpin trigger temper was more sensitive than usual. Nathaniel knew it wasn’t because his father was six foot under; being ignored by his own family was just another blow to his too-high pride. In the Nest, everyone was forced into treating Riko like their king because he was of a higher position of power; they might all be top Class I Exy players, but Riko was a son of Exy. He had more power in his little finger than they all did combined. The Moriyama family, however, had an immense amount of power that trampled Riko’s, and Riko was worth nothing to them. It was one of the few times Riko didn’t have people bowing down to him, and he was not enjoying it.

Nathaniel was glad that Jean wasn’t here to face what was going on. Despite his absence, Tetsuji still called for them to have a captain’s practice while they were gone, which meant that Riko was left in charge. They didn’t run any scrimmages since no one was there to referee, which meant that they practiced drills for a good two hours, Riko berating them and all. Nathaniel’s body was tired and he was tired of Riko. At the two hour mark, Riko ripped off his helmet to really begin ripping them apart.

“You’re all fucking worthless, everyone here. You all think you’re topshit because you’re a Raven? What a fucking joke, you won’t be anything on this team, in your pathetic lives, if you don’t step up and-”

Nathaniel had taken his own helmet off during his rant. He decided to speak up. “Do these insults apply to yourself?”

Nathaniel might as well have slapped the words out of Riko’s mouth. He fell silent and turned his eyes to Nathaniel, as did his team. Andrew in goal leaned on his stick, though Nathaniel could feel his eyes boring into him. “What?” Riko asked, too quietly. Nathaniel could hear the murder in his tone, but that didn’t stop his next words.

“I get it Riko, I get it,” he started. “You had a complicated relationship with your dad. No really, I do get it. My dad never called me on my birthday, either. I probably won't be invited to his funeral, too. It must suck to naturally get all this power from your family but now be forever unable to call up dad and be like, "Hey dad! Guess whose life I just ruined today!" But, and now I’m just going out on a limb here, I don't care. You have done everything in your power -which is quite a lot since the good ole Moriyama family gives the most power to its pricks- to make our life here living hell, and now you want us to sit back and let you berate us more than usual because your dad kicked the bucket? No, we would have actually felt bad if you were, you know, not the scum of the earth, but, you know, things can’t always be as it should. So please, at this point, it would just be better if you carried out your temper tantrum by yourself and let us continue our practice in peace. Maybe finally make your dad proud by shutting the fuck up.” Nathaniel made a pointed pause. “Thanks.”

Nathaniel realized that saying these words to Riko Moriyama was about as suicidal as anything, but he wasn’t going to take them back, and he sure as fuck didn’t regret them.

If Riko was able to strangle him in front of everyone, he would have. However, he was held back by witnesses and the fact that the Ravens couldn’t suffer another close call, so he resided to punching Nathaniel across the jaw. Nathaniel had seen him bounding up to him, ripping his gloves off, but he didn’t bother trying to back away. Riko wouldn’t do anything more in front of a crowd, and if he tried to run, it would only be worse when Riko had him alone.

The punch was strong enough to knock Nathaniel to his feet, and he thought about how Riko would have loved to do this the night Kevin premiered for the Foxes.

Riko loomed over Nathaniel, and Nathaniel’s jaw ached. Heat was blooming over his entire face, yet he managed to throw a savage grin onto his face. “You’ve been waiting to do that. Now, don’t we have a practice to continue?”

Riko scowled at him. He picked up Nathaniel’s helmet, which had fallen out of his hands on impact, and dropped it onto his gut. “Get the fuck up,” he said before pulling on his own.

Nathaniel pushed himself up. He pulled on his helmet and stood up, barely letting his body adjust to being knocked down so fast and then picked up at the same rate. His head hurt and he was exhausted, still he pushed himself on to finish the practice. He wasn’t going to give Riko the satisfaction of knocking him down.

When practice finally came to a close, Nathaniel was set on spending his day sleeping, or at least avoiding Riko until their practice that evening. He was about to enter his own room when he heard a voice behind him.

“Nathaniel.”

He turned to see Andrew standing in his own room’s doorway. Then, Nathaniel decided that he would rather spend the day with Andrew than alone in a room too big for one.

Andrew shut the door behind them and turned to stare at Nathaniel. Nathaniel sat on his bed and stared up at him. Andrew silently followed him and sat down besides him.

“Are you going to continue being an idiot and running into Riko’s fist?” Andrew asked.

“Probably,” Nathaniel said with a shrug. “He says so much bullshit, someone has to call him out for it.”

Andrew shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

Nathaniel smirked. “You like me, though.”

“We’ve been over this before, I hate you,” Andrew said. Nathaniel didn’t believe him. Still, Nathaniel played into it.

“Of course you do, you obviously hate me so much.”

“One-hundred-and-eight percent, Nathaniel,” Andrew said.

Nathaniel’s gaze on Andrew softened. Each time the percentage increased, the percentage that Nathaniel didn’t believe measured hatred, warmth spread more and more in his chest. He enjoyed the presence of Andrew, enjoyed how easy all of this came and how he could just be with Andrew around.

“Staring,” Andrew muttered, though Nathaniel didn’t miss Andrew’s eyes scanning his jaw where bruising and swelling had most likely began to occur. He jutted his chin out to Andrew, and Andrew only waited a moment before gently taking his chin in his hand. He tilted Nathaniel’s head, observing the damage done, and gently probed at the swelling.

Nathaniel wanted to make a joke of Andrew, who claimed to hate Nathaniel, offering so much attention to his barely-there injury, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He wanted to remember this, remember Andrew with something that wasn’t quite softness in his eyes but something close enough.

Nathaniel hadn’t realized how close their faces had gotten until he was staring right into Andrew’s eyes. Andrew’s eyes flicked from Nathaniel’s own to his lips. “Yes or no?” Andrew asked, his voice barely filling the room.

“Yes,” Nathaniel said without hesitation. He’s never been more comfortable than with Andrew.

Andrew pressed his lips to Nathaniel’s. His hand still cupped Nathaniel’s jaw and warmth radiated through Nathaniel’s body. Everything he felt for Andrew ran through his veins and ignited his heart. With Andrew’s lips on his own, he never felt more at peace and more alive. He was more with Andrew, more than just a number or an Exy player. When he was with Andrew, he was Nathaniel Wesninski, he didn’t have to hide behind a three or a helmet, and that meant more to Nathaniel than he could ever think about saying.

Nathaniel fidgeted with his hands, wanting to find something to do with them but not wanting to cross any boundaries. He wanted to hold onto Andrew, hold onto him like he would be the last joy Nathaniel would ever have, but all he allowed himself were fingers reaching but never making contact. Andrew must have noticed his yearning, for he took his hand away from Nathaniel’s face and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands to his hair. Nathaniel wasted no time in fisting his hands in Andrew’s hair, finding comfort in the touch.

At one point Nathaniel’s kisses started to stray from Andrew’s lips, but the moment they touched his jaw he pulled away slightly. “Is this okay?” he asked lowly.

“Keep going,” Andrew said, his voice gruffer than Nathaniel expected. Still, Nathaniel nodded and continued to kiss down Andrew’s jaw and to his neck. Andrew’s hands balled in the front of his shirt as Nathaniel restrained himself from leaving marks along Andrew’s neck. When he made his way back up to Andrew’s lips, Andrew’s hands started to inch downwards but paused at the hem of Nathaniel’s sweatpants.

“Yes,” Nathaniel breathed out the answer to the unspoken question against Andrew’s lips. Andrew’s one hand clamped itself behind Nathaniel’s neck as the other reached under his sweats and boxers. Nathaniel gasped at the touch and his fingers tightened in Andrew’s hair. Nathaniel’s breathing was coming in quick breaths and he felt hot under Andrew’s touch. His pulse was flying so fast that he wondered if Andrew could hear it.

When Nathaniel came to completion, it was in heavy breathing and words tumbling out of his lips that sounded a lot like Andrew. His eyes were clamped shut and his hands clutching Andrew’s hair. It took a moment for his heartrate to straighten out, and when it did, he finally opened his eyes and his blue met Andrew’s hazel.

“Go back to your room,” Andrew said.

“But- you-” Nathaniel’s eyes flicked downwards.

“I can take care of it,” he said. “Leave.”

Nathaniel nodded and managed to stumble out of Andrew’s room and into his own. His legs felt wobbly with the thought of Andrew and he laid on his bed, motionless, for a couple of minutes before finally moving to get changed.

[ohsweetflips]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter twenty-one

A/N: this fic will officially be 30 chapters

chapter summary: a man plagued with being in the wrong place at the wrong time (volume iii)

tw(s): extreme violence and mentions of self harm

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At one point during the drive, Nathaniel offered to drive since Andrew had drove both ways. Andrew told him no, and that actually ended up being a good thing since Nathaniel fell asleep all the way back to the Nest.

Nathaniel woke up when the car stopped. He rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep from them, blinking to get a focus on his surroundings. The sun had set, leaving the parking lot pitch black. Only dim streetlights kept the parking lot slightly illuminated, though the stadium was bright and alive. He looked at the clock. It was six o’clock; their evening practice wouldn’t be starting for another hour and a half.

“Just in time for practice,” Nathaniel said.

“Such a junkie,” Andre muttered before shutting off his car and throwing his door open. Nathaniel followed suit and walked after him to the door they came out of.

Tetsuji’s door was left unlocked, and when Andrew pushed it open they found Tetsuji and Riko. Tetsuji was sitting at his desk and Riko was in front of him. Nathaniel assumed they must have been talking, most likely about them, but now they both had their eyes on the two in front of them.

“Did you miss us?” Andrew asked.

“How dare you two think you could leave here,” Tetsuji growled, rising from his seat. Riko just smirked and leaned back to watch the show. He thought he already won.

If this was Nathaniel from a couple months ago, he would have crumbled in fear. He would have fallen to his knees, like he was meant to, and just wait for Tetsuji’s beating to be over, and then be sent to Riko for more. Fighting back, however, wasn’t an option then; now it was nearly a requirement. “Cabin fever, you know?”

“Don’t talk back to me!” Tetsuji shouted. Neither Nathaniel nor Andrew flinched. Tetsuji pulled his cane from the side of his desk. “Kneel,” he commanded. Neither did so. “You will not disobey me like this! You know your place and your purpose here, so kneel.”

When they silently refused to do so, Tetsuji swung his cane back. Then, all Nathaniel felt was a burst of pain on the side of his knee and his legs buckled underneath him. His knees slammed to the floor and Andrew’s did the same a moment later.

He heard Tetsuji mutter something to Riko, though he couldn’t catch what it was because only a second later Tetsuji was bringing the cane down on his back. Nathaniel hissed through his teeth but tried to stay as upright as possible. He hung his head and curled his hands on the ground, trying to hold himself together. He saw movement in the corner of his eye, but didn’t get the chance to look for Tetsuji whipped the cane on the same spot. Nathaniel felt his skin split underneath his shirt and knew that there would be scars left over. He braced himself for another hit that didn’t come.

Instead, he watched Riko step away from Andrew with a knife in his hand. Nathaniel panicked, quickly bringing his eyes over Andrew to see where the damage was. However, instead of finding something new, he found that something was missing. Andrew’s hands were pressed to the floor and his wrists were bare. In front of him, Andrew’s black armbands were cut off.

The first thing Nathaniel saw were scars dragged along Andrew’s wrists; the next was Tetsuji bringing his cane down on them.

Nathaniel was ready to call out for him to stop, to beg Tetsuji to only go after Nathaniel, when Riko knelt in front of him with his devil smile and gripped Nathaniel’s jaw.

“Welcome home, Nathaniel,” Riko beamed.

Nathaniel spat in his face.

The grin fell off Riko’s face and turned into a look that could freeze Hell. He took his hand away from Nathaniel’s jaw only to slap him across the cheek a moment later. “You’ve made a very bad mistake, Nathaniel,” Riko hissed.

“So did you,” Nathaniel replied.

Riko’s stare was blank. Nathaniel hoped it meant that he realized his trail wasn’t cold, and that they knew what he did. He wanted Riko to realize that he wasn’t going to get away with it, but Riko was too prideful to consider the consequences of his actions.

“Riko,” Tetsuji snapped at his nephew and Riko backed away from Nathaniel. Nathaniel looked out of the corner of his eye at Andrew. Andrew’s hands were clenched into fists, with blood dripping down his wrists and most likely soaking through his shirt.

Nathaniel sucked in a harsh breath as Tetsuji brought the cane down on his back in quick successions. He alternated between him and Andrew, constantly striking the same spot multiple times before moving on. Nathaniel felt the blood dripping down his skin and his back throbbing, but he just kept his head down, eyes snapped shut, and hands clenched. At one point, the pain became too unbearable to the degree where Nathaniel though he would lose consciousness.

But he sucked in a breath, and didn’t allow himself to break. He remembered when he was ready to give up, when Kevin had left and all hope was gone for him. Riko had destroyed him, had broken him down, and he wasn’t planning on picking himself up. He was scarred, bloodied, and bruised, life was turning into Hell, and he was ready to leave himself on the ground and barely crawl to survival. He was weak, and he hated himself for it, but he wasn’t planning on changing that about himself.

Now, Nathaniel couldn’t let himself stoop that low again. He couldn’t let the pain and the despair pollute him when he had a corrupt captain and coach to destroy. Survival was always hard, living was always an unreachable concept, but with Andrew and Kevin at his side now, both seemed in arm’s reach. He couldn’t give up now, not when Riko expected them to. Giving in and giving up was no longer an option. He couldn’t be the Nathaniel Wesninski he was a couple months ago. The Nathaniel Wesninski then only hoped to survive until the day he left Edgar Allan, he was angry about the way his life had panned out and yet refused to do anything to change it.

No, not only couldn’t he be that Nathaniel anymore, he would never allow himself to be like that again.

So, after drawing in a sharp breath when Tetsuji paused his beating, he looked up at Riko and said in pained words, but still words he meant, “You’re going to regret every fucking thing you have ever done to us.”

Tetsuji shoved his head back down and slammed the cane on his back. He waited for another blow, forcing himself to stay conscious, except the hit never came. He looked up to see Tetsuji throw his cane next to his desk.

“Get the fuck out of my office,” Tetsuji snapped at them.

Nathaniel managed to pick himself up off the floor, but was shoved out the door by Riko. He hissed when Riko’s hand smacked on his back, and barely avoided tripping. He kept himself going, though, and made sure that him and Andrew stayed at each other’s sides. There was no way either were going to let the other fall behind when Riko was on their heels. Riko had now seen three of his Perfect Court walk peacefully out of the Nest; there was no telling what he was going to do next.

When they reached the dormitories, Nathaniel thought Riko was finally going to leave them alone, but instead he came up close behind him and whispered, “Are you going to go see Jean?”

Nathaniel felt his heart drop to his stomach.

While accompanying Andrew to Columbia, Nathaniel had pushed the Nest out of his mind. He couldn’t let himself think about what was going on back there because that would only turn him into a panicking mess. He saw the Nest as something he would have to deal with when he got back.

Now, however, he realized the selfishness of his plan, for Jean was the one left with Riko. Jean was the one left to reap Nathaniel’s consequences.

Nathaniel, through all the burning and all the pain, scrambled to get to his room. His back burned and his knees ached but he still tried to move as fast as his mind was. He hadn’t even seen Jean yet and the disgust he felt at himself just kept rising to higher and higher levels.

When Nathaniel almost shoved the door down and got a look at Jean, he wanted to be sick.

Jean Moreau was a man plagued with always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. While they lived in France, his father couldn’t pay a debt he owed to the Moriyamas and instead gave up his son. He was brought to Evermore, kicking and screaming, doomed to a successful life if he could survive the pain and misery that came with it. He was paired off with Nathaniel Wesninski, a boy who was in the same boat as him. Both having been given to the Moriyamas and then Riko, they found understanding in each other. At one point they called each other friends, but as they grew older they became allies to each other. If they each had to survive through the torture, they had to help the other one stay afloat, too.

Now, though, it was as if Nathaniel threw Jean into rough waters with no life vest.

Jean Moreau, poor Jean Moreau, was curled up on his bed. Bruising that went from his right eye to his nose adorned his face, clashing terribly with his ill-looking complexion. His nose was disfigured and obviously broken. A cut was slashed on his cheek, narrowly missing the tattooed four, and dripped blood had dried onto his face. Bruises the size of fingers had his neck in a chokehold. Bruises and cuts continued up his arms, and Nathaniel was positive he could see dried blood on Jean’s shirt. The damage that couldn't be seen in public was always worse, and after seeing what was done to his face, Nathaniel could only imagine what was done to Jean’s body. It was Riko who did the damage, and Riko liked to hit where it would hurt the most; perhaps Jean was in this curled, fragile position because it hurt too much to think about moving. Nathaniel had a feeling that Riko left Jean like this, battered and immobile, for Nathaniel to come and find.

“Jean,” Nathaniel choked out as he rushed to him. The only thing he could think of saying next was, “I’m so sorry.”

This seemed to be the first time Jean noticed his presence. His eyes focused on Nathaniel, and he immediately struggled to get farther away. However, when he tried to push himself up, his left arm buckled and he let out a pained cry before collapsing back on the bed.

“Jean, I-” Nathaniel stammered. “I’m so- let me-”

“No!” Jean snapped at him. His voice was rough from disuse. Noticing Nathaniel had seemed to strike painful life back into him. Still, he tried to move himself farther from Nathaniel despite how much his body must have been burning, though Nathaniel didn’t miss his strained breathing.

Nathaniel wanted to reach out, wanted to help him, wanted to do anything, but instead he sat back on his heels. An apology wouldn’t work. To apologize would be pathetic; it was Nathaniel’s carelessness that threw Jean into this mess. An apology wouldn’t heal Jean.

Most of all, though, Nathaniel knew he couldn’t do anything. The damage had already been done, there was nothing Nathaniel could do. Jean didn’t trust him anymore. The alliance they had was broken when Nathaniel stepped out of the Nest. Jean had every right not to trust him. All this time, Nathaniel had constantly thought about Riko needing to reap the consequences of his own actions, and yet Nathaniel didn’t even consider what would happen when he decided to leave.

He was the reason his mother was killed, and now his bad decisions would be forever remembered on Jean.

Then Jean, broken, bruised, bloodied Jean, looked at him and barely said, “What happened to sticking together?” His words were so quiet, so tired, but Nathaniel still felt like he was punched in the gut.

Nathaniel swallowed thickly and retreated to the pathetic, “I’m so sorry.”

Jean said nothing.

Nathaniel then slowly pushed himself up off the ground. He winced at the pain that sprang from his knees and went through his whole body. He grabbed a key ring from his bedside table. “I won’t let him get to you,” he said quietly. It was an empty promise; Riko had already gotten to Jean. “I have to…” he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ll be right back.”

Jean said nothing.

Nathaniel pushed open the door, cast one last look at Jean, and stepped out. He locked the door behind him. A lock wouldn’t stop Riko, but Nathaniel felt better knowing that Riko would at least have to apply force to get in.

Really though, Nathaniel hoped Riko wouldn’t try. Jean had been through enough. Whatever Riko had planned, Nathaniel deserved it. If Nathaniel vowed to himself to not break, he owed it to Jean to stand between him and Riko.

Nathaniel’s feet naturally carried him to Andrew’s room. He knocked twice before pushing the door open; Andrew’s roommate barely stayed in there anymore.

From the time it took Nathaniel to get from his room to Andrew’s, something inside of him snapped. Guilt faded away and anger replaced it, or perhaps the guilt turned into anger. He was angry at himself, angry for being so careless. He put Jean in danger and didn’t even consider it until the damage was already done. It was his fault, and yet, when he saw Andrew’s face, his anger boiled over. It was wrong to point dirty fingers at Andrew, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You said you would protect Jean.” Andrew stared at him blankly.

“You said you would protect him,” Nathaniel repeated. “You said you would be a buffer between him and Riko. You said you would try!” Nathaniel’s insides curled at hearing his voice rise. Andrew didn’t say anything. “But you let me follow you to Columbia, and now Jean’s hurt. I left him here and followed you and Riko stepped in and- and beat the shit out of him! And now- and now he doesn’t trust me and you said you would help but you-”

“I never told you to follow me,” Andrew interrupted, his voice firmer than his expression let on. “That was your choice, and your choice only. You knew from the moment you asked for my help that I made no promise to keep Jean safe. I said I would try, because that was all I could do. It wasn’t me who made you forget all of that and blindly follow me out, ignoring the responsibility that you had to Jean. There are some things that you work your ass off to prevent but those things still happen because life fucking sucks-” Nathaniel flinched “Other things, you have to accept that you were the reason. Be angry all you like, but I’m not the one who’s at fault here, and I believe you’re smart enough to know that.”

Nathaniel’s anger burned out as quickly as it began. He pulled at his hair in an attempt to ground himself from the crushing guilt he felt. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “It’s all my fault,” he managed out. “Jean is hurt, and he doesn’t trust me, and I don’t blame him. I just-” he huffed out a breath and ran a hand over his face. He had felt too much in too short of a timespan and he didn’t know how to handle it. He thought the guilt was going to eat him alive. “I managed to hurt the person who has stuck by my side since I was a child, and I did it with my own stupidity.”

“It is your fault,” Andrew said. His bluntness spiked in Nathaniel’s heart. “You didn’t come here for a fight, and you didn’t come here for comfort. I’m not here to give you any. You knew that Jean was your responsibility, he always has been as you have always been his, but you abandoned that when you left- something that I never asked you to do. These are the consequences of your actions, now it’s time for you to fix it.”

Now it’s time for you to fix it. Nathaniel let the words run over and over in his mind. He knew Andrew was right; if Nathaniel was so hell-bent on surviving and getting out of here, he owed it to Jean to actually protect him through it. He and Jean had stuck with each other through everything, they had to, but nothing had ever gotten to this level. When they were beat, they were beat as a unit. They had to pull each other up off the ground and keep moving forward. Now, though, Nathaniel had left Jean vulnerable and Riko took no time to go after the weak link.

Nathaniel had put Jean in this situation; he was never going to let something like this happen again.

Nathaniel took a deep breath and nodded. “I will,” he said. “I’m going to go back to my room.”

“That would be the smart thing to do.”

He left Andrew’s room.

When Nathaniel approached his door and took the keyring from his pocket, Riko came down the hall. A devil’s grin decorated his face. “Tetsuji cancelled practice,” he said. “He doesn’t want to deal with incompetence.”

“Good for him,” Nathaniel quipped. “He finally recognized your worth.” Riko looked like he was about to snap back. “Yes, I know, I should watch what I say. I should know my place. But I don’t think it would serve you best to retaliate right now. If you take out another one of your Perfect Court, how do you think Coach would react?”

They both knew Nathaniel wasn’t talking about just Jean.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” Riko, with clenched fists, hissed.

“Glady,” Nathaniel said and opened his door. Jean hadn’t moved from where he was before. Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to put the lock on behind him. He was about to tell Jean that he was there if he needed anything when he realized that the other had fallen asleep. A part of him wanted to wake him and at least help him into a different change of clothes, but he decided that it would be better if he didn’t touch him. He didn’t think they were close to being at that level yet. Instead, he just grabbed a throw blanket he kept in a bin under his bed and lightly draped it over him.

For the rest of the night, he stayed up, sitting on his bed. He listened for any violent hands trying to open the locked door and constantly kept checking Jean out of the side of his eye. Sleep came in small amounts, usually only when he dozed off and was jolted back awake at hearing movement outside.

The morning came slowly, and by the time they were summoned for morning practice, Nathaniel’s body felt worse than it ever had. His back stung and every time he moved he thought he would irritate the cuts on his back. Still, though, when their door was slammed on, Nathaniel pulled himself out of bed and Jean flinched awake.

The most reassuring thing Nathaniel could think to ask Jean was, “Do you need any help?”

“No,” Jean said, and Nathaniel hadn’t expected a different answer.

Their morning practice proceeded as normal, at first. Nathaniel’s body screamed with each movement, but he had spent years perfecting the art of continuing to practice while being in immense pain. He was able to keep himself going, and made sure to not stray far from Jean throughout their drills and scrimmage.

Everything proceeded as normal, that is, until Jean collapsed on the court halfway through first half. No one had checked him, he hadn’t tripped, his body had just given out on him. Nathaniel sprinted to him. Behind them, he could hear their teammates shouting at Jean for him to get up. Jean struggled and barely managed to get himself off the ground.

“Jean, you need to get up,” Nathaniel said, kneeling down next to his fellow backliner. “Even if we get you to the benches, you need to get up.”

“No- no, I don’t need your-”

The court froze when the court door slammed open. “Wesninski! Moreau!” Tetsuji shouted at them.

Jean’s breathing hitched.

“Can I help you get over there?” Nathaniel asked quietly.

Jean hesitated before nodding.

Nathaniel stood and hoisted Jean up. Jean, who had trouble trying to get himself off the ground, had even more trouble trying to stay upright. After only a few steps, he ended up practically draped over Nathaniel and using him for full support. Nathaniel struggled with the extra weight on top of him; Jean towered over him in height. But he didn’t stop moving. He had to get Jean off this court.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Tetsuji growled when they reached outer court. “Fucking disgraces, both of you. Shouldn’t even be on this fucking court-”

Nathaniel didn’t stay to listen to what else he had to say. He assisted Jean into the locker room. “I’ll come back for your stuff later,” he said. “Can I help you out of your gear?”

Jean was barely keeping conscious. Nathaniel had to ask again to get a response, and it was only a tired nod. It was a struggle getting Jean’s gear off quickly and safely. He didn’t want to irritate his injuries (which, yes, were much worse under his shirt) but he didn’t want to stay in the locker room for too long in case Tetsuji decided he wasn’t finished with them. He pried his eyes away from the slashes, black and blue bruising, and welts that covered Jean’s back and torso. Jean was only letting Nathaniel help him because he had no other option; if he was more awake, he wouldn’t approve of Nathaniel seeing what had happened at such close proximity. Nathaniel wasn’t going to cross his boundaries when he was so vulnerable.

Eventually, he was able to get Jean down into the dorms and into their room. Jean immediately collapsed on the bed and, once again, Nathaniel threw a blanket over him. He then looked over his roommate.

Nathaniel had thought that, to fix the mess he made, he would have to stand in between Riko and Jean. Jean might never accept that, might never trust him again, but Nathaniel wouldn’t defend him so that one day he would possibly be accepted again. He would defend him because it was what he was supposed to be doing this entire time, and he couldn’t allow himself to fail Jean again.

Now, though, he realized that he could go one step further. There was something Nathaniel could do that would keep Jean out of Riko’s claws for good.

Jean had passed out, from pain or exhaustion or both, the moment he hit the bed. Nathaniel worried his bottom lip, looking at him for a moment longer before shaking himself off. He then turned and fumbled through the clothes he had left lying around, and didn’t stop until he found a small, crumpled up piece of paper from the pockets of his sweatpants. He read over what was written. The neat handwriting was an offer for a new beginning, just not for Nathaniel.

His fingers shook as he dialed the number. The girl on the other line picked up after the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Renee,” he said. “It’s Nathaniel, we need your help.”

--

By that night, Jean was gone and in Renee’s car.