#minako banging out the fucking TUNES!!!

[houndfaker]

WRITE ME AN ENDLESS SONG (WHEN YOU LET GO)

[docholligay]

Requiem for the Grand Consummation

Angstober prompt was: Michiru, breakdown 1900 words, and I hope you....uh, enjoy it? In as much as anyone enjoys Angstober? 

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. It matters little what you feel.The flame might tear and burn, the steam might hiss, but you are a creature of the coldest sea, and to all appearances, you will only ever be calm and shimmering. She had been trained in all of this since she was a young child, the subtle art of composure. 

To compose oneself. She thought of it often, this turn of phrase, this way of putting a smooth coat on the roughness of mortal feelings. One composed a symphony as well, and she could not note that it was too terribly different. The art of taking inelegant bursts of air and furious strokes of string on string, and turning them into something beautiful. Something calming, and erudite, inviting commentary on the art. Perhaps not all people made symphonies of their own emotions, but Michiru Kaioh would note that she was an artist in all things, and perhaps her earliest lesson was in this. 

So Michiru Kaioh dressed in her neat couture, and sat straight as she sipped at champagne in the tea lounges of the upper class, and accepted condolences with that same cool, impersonal affect with which it was given. She composed, and the orchestra played on, and no one could have possibly noted that the young widow was anything other than a perfect example of the stiffly pressed perfection and breeding of the upper classes. 

A sheet of ice covered the sea, and it shimmered and sparkled and did not waver or buckle as the waves churned beneath it. 

But ice can only ever be cold, and be taken as such, whatever may lie beneath, and one can hardly blame those unfamiliar with the sea for seeing little else. 

“Oh, like Michiru even fuckin’ cares.” Mina swigged back a beer, despite being in the middle of what was, ostensibly, a senshi meeting, “since when has she ever kept anything from last season, you know?” 

Mako shrugged and nodded along with Mina, the two guards, one of them telling the truth, and one lying, and both blocking Michiru from a calm exit of the conversation. 

“We need a new Sailor Uranus.” Mako added, though not unkindly. 

The gentleness was meant less for Michiru and more for Usagi, who wailed in protest. 

“We can’t! We can’t let someone else wear her tiara, because, because--” she let out a sniffle and a small sob, “--they won’t be her!!” 

“Indeed,” Michiru added, almost a whisper to herself, “who could be?” 

Rei drew her arms around Usagi. “She wouldn’t be, Usagi.” She kissed Usagi’s temple, “But she’ll be a different Sailor Uranus. But she won’t replace Haruka.” 

Ami touched Usagi’s arm. “Whoever it is already has been given the power. She’s probably scared, Usagi. We can help her. We can teach her.” 

Michiru folded her hands in her lap, and composed herself. Twist the brass into submission. Quell the drums. The strings do not shriek, but sing, in your hands. She softened her eyes and relaxed her face, and her shoulders fell straight and sleek under her silk blouse. 

“So we don’t have a choice anyway.” Mina poured the beer down her throat and crunched the can, “We get to her or the enemy does. Sailor Uranus is dead,” a violin string snapped, “long live Sailor Uranus.” 

Usagi nodded, sobbing into Rei’s shoulder, and Mako rubbed her on the back as the silence settled in, rain falling in the background as the cool wet air sneaked in the cracks old and new, whispering in small holes in sweaters, aching through slender gaps of clothing. 

Michiru rose to her feet, and smoothed her linen skirt. 

“Well, then, it seems decided,” She took her purse from the table, “Pluto, I assume you will have little trouble locating this person, given your affinity with the power of the moon. You certainly located us easily enough.” She nodded to Mina. “If there’s no further business, madame chairman.” 

“Go on,” she shrugged, “be my fucking guest.” 

Michiru did not allow herself to crescendo to Mina’s anger, simply walked to the door where her umbrella sat waiting, the fine leather of her Italian made shoes spattered so lightly with the rain’s cruelties that you would be forgiven for not noticing them. Fine leather blends well. 

She opened the door, only for a small, insistent hand to close it in her face. She did not turn her head, for there was no need, only that same discordant note wishing to throw off all symphonies as she herself had been. 

“I confess the vagaries of being your guest do somewhat bewilder me.” She shook off her umbrella. “May I help you?” 

Mina took her hand away from the door, her eyes never leaving Michiru’s face. 

“You’re so hollow inside, I wonder if her scream’s still echoing there, or if you just...absorbed it.” MIna shook her head, and their eyes met, “Did you ever love her?” 

“You are a cruel person, at heart, Minako Aino. But I suspect you know that.” She opened the door and her umbrella both, in one fluid motion, “Haruka’s taste was always a bit self-flagellating, wasn’t it? Choosing us.” She stepped out into the rain. “Not all of us are so prone to drunken dramatics.” 

“Fucking leave, Michiru.” 

“Oh, are we precisely certain I have your leave?” 

MIna slapped the door in her face, but Michiru did not justify the cymbal crash with so much as the raise of an eyebrow. 

It took her longer than she might have expected to return to that yawning condo in a sparkling building, the rain settling on the windows in a single sheet, beginning to freeze until it weighed to heavy before dramatically cracking and falling to the ground. 

Her apartment was the same as it ever had been, neatly appointed, and her girl had left a bottle of champagne and a plate of olives and cheese in the fridge, as requested. They said good help was hard to find, but Michiru did not agree with this assessment. Good help was very easy to find, so long as one’s wallet was sufficiently open. 

She popped the bottle with its percussive note, the bubbles rising to the surface of the glass in their high accenting chirps. When had she changed into her robe and gown? She couldn’t remember, but it hardly mattered. It was perfectly acceptable for a woman alone in her apartment to lounge a bit in the evening. 

The glasses went down fast, tonight. Mina had not been wrong to say that she was hollow, for no matter how much she drank, Michiru could not fill that deep, dry well inside of her. Or maybe it had always been full, but full only of the sea, bitter and cold, withering everything that drank it. 

MIna had been right about another thing. She was cruel and a liar, but she hadn’t lied then. That well inside her heard the screams, and it echoed high above the elegiac symphony of her own heart and soul, far beyond taming. It dulled the song and it slipped under the ice, and it screamed and screamed and screamed. 

She staggered to her feet. She was conducting, but the players were beginning to falter, playing their own tunes, Mozart against Tchaikovsky, Salieri coming through the back, a note of Monteverdi, the piano player hammering out Chopin’s softness with an indelicate rage. It was too loud for the small apartment, the clashes and bangs of instruments no longer obeying that leader. What a fool she ever was to believe that she could have brought them to heel with a small stick! 

No one had asked the conductor how she tired, how rebellious the woodwinds, how obstinate the percussion, and how difficult it could possibly be to coordinate it all on a bucking sheet of ice. And who could blame them? They had not seen the difficulty, for Michiru never allowed this to be difficult. It was her own perfection that led to this grand revolution, every carefully chosen note deciding its own fate in this moment, in an apartment which once held something killed by cold, a daisy in December. 

Michiru flung wide the doorway to that elegant balcony, the lines of song which had been straight and true twisting themselves into the wrought iron, mocking her composition. Her composure. She stared at them, glass still in her hand, and they rocked and moved and then they were the waves of the sea, clashing against that ice as the rain fell around her. It built and built and it broke, for how could it not break when there was so much underneath it. The wind rose and whipped under that sheet of ice, and Michiru felt a great crack inside of her, a crack like an explosion. Oh, that great sea ice broke indeed, and it broke with the great thunder of bass and timpani, and the waves became a song again, and twisted, and the sea again, breaking, and then they were her face, her face twisted most of all in those final moments, and Michiru looked up to the sky and she cried out in the one and only vocal solo of her life, accompanied by the horrible orchestra of her own great creation. 

She stopped. Everything stopped. The strings grew still, and the sea ice drifted away, and it all simply stopped. 

Haruka called herself the senshi of the wind. It was silly, and it was a lie, but it was a lovely one, and in the years after she had fallen in love, she continued on with it in her teasing way, telling Michiru how the wind whispered she looked beautiful in that dress, or howled over the discontinuation of a candy bar. 

But she wasn’t lying, and she wasn’t joking, for Michiru could feel her, caressing her face, kissing her lips, brushing tenderly against her collarbone. Haruka had quieted it. She had always quieted it, for the wind was not the great enemy of the sea, but its partner, was it not? It is only the wind that allows the ocean to guide and to bring the world across it. The wind caresses the sea in love, and those are not waves of horror, but of delight. The screams all sound the same. 

Michiru took her glass, and drank deep of it, smiling brightly as she flung it over the side of the balcony, a high, bright note of an angel’s bell below. 

She rested a hand on that iron, and felt it lay still and freeze beneath her hand. The ice, returning. So heavy. Impossible to hold on a building like this one. But there was no need, the wind said to her, to hold it at all. Let the sea rage, and let the song die, and I will carry you in the great unwritten song of the wind. 

Her robe fluttered like a petal as she slipped a leg over that useless, ugly, arrogant iron. She held her hand out to the wind, the wind that came from the sea and still carried the water inside of it, and with a close of her eyes and the whisper of Haruka’s name, she released that flower into the wind. 

When they found her on the car in the misting rain, she was calm and shimmering. 

Just as she’d been taught. 

[kiribakus]

Hi! Spend the afternoon creepily stalking your Tumblr and saw that black cat white cat is on hiatus. Also saw that you said you were near completing it. Also saw you post what you've written on project Metis so far since you weren't planning to get to it for a while. Would you possibly possibly consider doing the same for black cat white cat and posting what you have so far for?

yah sure i don’t see why not :0c although it’s actually nowhere near finished, this is 6,000 words and i deffo have at least 10,000 more to go

CHAPTER TWO:I’LL KEEP THE CAT AND I WON’T GIVE ANYTHING TO YOU

 “Everybody wantsto be a cat.”

The snapping of arifle into its tripod, the click of the scope being adjusted. The impossible toplace slight movements of the rifle on the roof, pointing down into the jeweledcity below.

“Because a cat’sthe only cat who knows where it’s at.”

The pink of atongue poking out between lips, the tan color of skin poking out of blackfingerless gloves to press against an even blacker gun. The slight shifting onelbows into a more comfortable position, and the wiggle of a body along to thesong she’s humming.

“Tell me,everybody’s pickin’ up on that feline beat,” Minami hums. “’Causeeverything else is obsolete.”

“You know, it’salmost creepy hearing you sing that, knowing you’re about to kill a man,”Phichit says. His hands fly over the keyboard as he texts Minako statusupdates.

“I don’t know whatyou’re talking about,” Minami huffs. “I’m just excited that they’re trusting mewith such an important job.” She pauses, then picks up her singing andadjusting her scope once more. “A girl with gun makes you wish you weren’tdone, every time she shoots.”

“Creepy,” Phichitsays, pointing at her. “And let’s see…Yuuri misses his shot in Vienna, Yuukodoes a messy job in Beijing, Yuuri gets it on with Viktor instead of completinghis mission…” Phichit lists the examples off on his fingers. “Yeah, I think youwere the only choice left.”

“You’re being abuzzkill,” Minami whines.

“I can’t believeyou’re actually going to try to kill him,” Phichit says. “Yuuri would be, like,completely devastated.”

“Do you think I canhit him?” Minami asks.

“No,” Phichit says,maybe too honestly. “He’s like, immortal. Untouchable. A fucking legend.”

“Let’s have a bet,then!” Minami says, sitting up.

“A bet?”

“Yeah,” she says.“If I hit him, you buy me dessert for a month.”

“If you lose, I getto post those pictures of you with a Yuuri body pillow,” Phichit says,grinning.

Minami pouts. “Youdrive a hard bargain, Phichit Chulanont.” They shake.

“Oh,” Phichit saysafter a moment. “You never said anything about killing him.”

Minami laughs. “I’mnot so crazy as to think I can kill him.” She slides back down on herstomach, kicking her legs in the air.

“Still a cat’sthe only cat who knows how to aim.”

————————————-

Yuuri glares at hisempty pint, cheek pressed against the table. He’s not nearly as drunk as hewants to be—as he’s allowed to be—and honestly it’s pissing him off. On oneside, Yuuko gives him a gentle, sympathetic smile. On his other, Takeshi takesone look at the face he’s making and claps him on the back. The blow is sostartling that Yuuri breaks out into a coughing fit.

“Lighten up,Yuuri!” Takeshi says. “It’s not so bad. It’s just one assignment.”

“I’ll buy youanother,” Yuuko says.

“Support…” Yuurimutters. “I’m support.”

This was the end ofthe line, then. He couldn’t be trusted to lead another mission, even when itwas defensive. When it was in Japan. Instead, Minami was taking thepoint position and in charge of assassinating the target. In Osaka.Yuuri was on the chopping block.

“They’re replacingme with Minami,” he groans. “It was nice serving with you two.”

“Don’t beridiculous!” Yuuko huffs. “Minami is still unproven. You’ve just hadsome…shoddy luck with the KGB, is all. It makes sense that they’d switch aroundagents.”

“You mean Ijeopardized the mission to sleep with the enemy,” Yuuri says.

Yuuko and Takeshiwince in unison. Well, when he put it that way.

“At least hejeopardized his mission too,” Takeshi says. “It wasn’t a one-sided thing.”

Yuuri groans. Helets the noise escape his body in the longest, most pitiful moan of his entirelife. He bangs his forehead on the table rhythmically. “I know. I know. Iknow.”

“I know,” Yuurisays, “and that’s all I’ve been able to think about. I should bethinking about how to get back in their good graces, but instead the only thingI can think about is—” The color in his cheeks spreads to his ears and down hisneck. “Um.”

“Ooo, scandalous,”Phichit says over the com. “Did you forget these were on again?”

Yuuri lets outanother groan.

“I’m tuningMinami-chan in,” Phichit says. “You might want to keep dirty Viktorthoughts to yourself so she doesn’t have more of a motivation to kill him.”They’re greeted by the sound of muted humming as Minami joins the channel.

“Viktor won’t showup,” Yuuri assures them. “It’d be stupid to send a compromised operative intohostile territory, especially when said hostile territory is where the personwho compromised him calls home. The KGB are better than that.”

“Oh, right,”Phichit says. “Minami-chan, our bet only applies to Viktor. If it’s someoneelse that comes the bet is off.”

“What bet?” Yuukoasks.

“Nothing,nothing,” Minami says at the same time Phichit says, “The bet to see ifshe can hit Viktor.”

“Phichit-kun!”Minami yowls.

“Oops,”Phichit says. “Don’t worry; Yuuri-kun said he won’t show anyway.”

“Won’t he cometo see Yuuri, though?” Minami asks.

Yuuri pulls theearpiece out of his ear and sets in on the table. He stands up, despite Yuukoand Takeshi’s protests, and sees himself out of the restaurant. It’s pleasantoutside, the chill of winter sticking to the nights while the days were warmerwith the promise of coming spring. Yuuri leans against the concrete wall of therestaurant and looks up.

Somewhere, on topof one of those buildings, Minami was perched invisible against the dark of thesky, her sniper rifle peeking over the edge. The people of Osaka walked belowher, heads down, no idea that an angel of death lay above them, ready to takeout the enemy without hesitation. She wouldn’t falter. She was well-trained,uncompromised. She was a formidable opponent.

And then, somewhereelse in the city, Viktor. Yuuri had said Viktor wouldn’t come but…but howcouldn’t he? The KGB already knew he was compromised—that must have been whyNatasha was with him that night in Monte Carlo. They knew he might fail, butultimately, he was professional enough to succeed at his mission while alsotaking an interest in a Japanese rival operative and pursuing that thread ofintrigue until he grew bored.

But you aren’t bored yet, are you Viktor?

He hadn’t feltbored, his chest heaving under Yuuri’s hands for that brief moment, the way hegripped Yuuri on the dancefloor. Yuuri can still feel the sexual tension betweenthem, its hold strong even across the world. Viktor still wants him, and Yuuriwants him back. He wouldn’t pass up the chance to come see Yuuri, to frolic inthe playground that was Japan, unafraid of eyes in the sky or operatives on theground.

All for a chance topull or push Yuuri into an alley, shove him against a wall, his leg in between Yuuri’s,holding him up to feel the way he shivers against Viktor and gives as well ashe takes from Viktor’s obsession. All for a chance to taste his mouth again…

“You won’t come forme, will you?” Yuuri murmurs aloud. “That would be stupid and irresponsible ofyou.” And yet, he knew. Viktor was in this city. Yuuri could feel him justunder his skin and swimming in the veins of traffic and passersby.

I’m here,Yuuri doesn’t say. Where are you? I’m waiting.

But even puttinghimself out in the open, begging to be assaulted or kidnapped, Viktor isn’tbiting. Ah, perhaps the KGB wised up and shortened Viktor’s leash. Yuuri headsback inside as the chill of the night starts to seep through his light jacket.

“Oh, Yuuri’s back,”Takeshi says. “Better put your earpiece back in before Minako-sensei sendsCiao-Ciao to set you straight.”

“I’m here,” Yuurisays, slipping the earpiece back in. Immediately, he’s chewed out by Minako andPhichit, but he tunes them out with a sigh. Maybe he had been wrong after all?

“…Honestly,Yuuri,” Phichit says, sighing. “What if I had had some importantinformation to relay you?”

“I have someimportant news to relay to you,” Yuuri says. “Against the advisement of myhandler, Minako-sensei, I am having another beer.”

He hears Minako takea breath. “And,” Yuuri says, “Unless she wants to pay for therapy for me, shewill accept this alternative treatment.”

“He must havebeen a real good kisser,” Minami grumbles.

“It’s more of thefact that I’ve idolized him for my entire life,” Yuuri says. “I think you mightknow what that feels like, Minami-chan.”

The team is stunnedinto silence. Yuuri regrets the words a soon as he says them. “I’m sorry,”Yuuri says. “That wasn’t right of me. I’m just stressed and the teasing isreally getting to me.”

“And you’reemotionally compromising our sniper,” Minako says stonily. “Unintentional ornot, I’m advising that you be removed from support effective immediately.”

Yuuri, having satdown for under five minutes, stands right back up. “Fine by me,” he says. “I’monly being thrown the scraps, after all.”

He walksout—again—with Yuuko and Takeshi calling after him. He stomps out of therestaurant and onto the street, hands shoved into his pockets and shouldershunched. He stares straight at the ground and is so wound up that he doesn’teven realize he’s left the earpiece in until he’s three blocks away from therestaurant and nearing the hotel. Yuuri’s become so accustomed to the chatterin his ear that he’d tuned out most of the worrying and complaining from hiscompanions at Hasetsu.

Why was this such abig deal? It wasn’t like Yuuri particularly enjoyed killing people, but it wassomething he excelled at. To struggle on this front and in ice skating, whichhe actually loved, was as pathetic as it was frustrating. It was like he hadbeen slipping before Viktor entered his life, and now that Viktor was here,everything had shattered. Yuuri was so used to doing as he was told, followingorders down to the wire. This was the second time he had openly defied ordersto pursue a course he wanted.

Yuuriwas…unsettled, to say the least. This change didn’t feel wrong by any means,just frustrating. And that frustration continued to build. Why do I have tofollow stupid orders? Why can’t they see who I am? Why am I being ignored? Whycan’t I chase Viktor?

This was not ahealthy or smart way for an operative to think. Yuuri was the hand and theknife of Hasetsu, of the higher-ups. He carried out the will of Minako-senseiand Yamada-san, who relayed the will of Celestino and the other leaders oftheir organization. It wasn’t the place of a pawn to be thinking for himself.But Yuuri’s pride was lashing its tail. His desire for something more waslurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. Viktor’s presence was blood in the water,impetus for Yuuri to act.

“Eyes on Viktor,”Minami says.

Yes, I know,Yuuri almost says, before he realizes Minami isn’t talking to him.

“I’ve got him inmy scope,” Minami says.

She’s breathlesswith excitement. Yuuri can hear her bloodlust over the com. He freezes. He hastime to think, this is what an agent should be, before Minako speaks,all business.

“Target’sposition? Phichit, conditions?” Minako asks.

“Target’s movingsouthwest with the flow of the crowd,” Minami reports. “Holding acoffee. Doesn’t appear to be accompanied. I can make the shot.”

“Wind speed low,”Phichit says. “No precipitation. Radio silence from other organizations.Getaway in position.”

“Supports?”Minako barks.

“Ready to go,”Yuuko says.

“Ma’am, can Itake the shot?” Minami says quickly. “He’s—he’s almost in perfectposition. The crowd is clearing—minimal collateral—”

It’s all happeningtoo fast. Yuuri closes his eyes, recalls the map of their locations, and he runs.

“Take the shot,”Minako says.

Yuuri doesn’t hearthe gunshot. The rifle is far, far away from him and has a silencer on itsmuzzle anyway, but Yuuri swears he can feel it. The spike of adrenaline joltsthrough his chest, as if the bullet had passed through his body instead ofViktor’s. The silence stretches over seconds, but they might as well have beenhours.

Minami-chan can’t do it, Yuuri tells himself as he runs, cold air slicing at his throat andlungs. She’s a good shot but he’s Viktor. He’s a legend and she’s abeginner, the difference is just too—

“I hit him,”Minami whispers. Then, louder, “I hit him!”

“Confirmed,”Phichit chokes. “The target has been hit. Oh, man, I cannot believe I oweyou dessert for a mon—”

“Professionality!”Minako snaps. “Details, Minami!”

“I missed the headshot,”Minami says. “Got him in the shoulder, looked like just below the shoulder.He’s on the move.”

“Supports, go,go!” Minako says. “Finish the job.”

They can’t mean…Yuuri thinks. No one can—Viktor can’t—

But they had.Minami shot Viktor and he was bleeding out in the streets somewhere, Yuuko andTakeshi on their way to intercept him and…what? Kill him? Viktorcouldn’t die. Even if he was shot, Viktor could survive. Yuuko and Takeshi couldn’tkill him. The possibility of a world without Viktor was not worthcomprehending. Yuuri would not live in such a world.

He keeps to theback alleys, avoiding detection from his teammates, the police, and any otherKGB agents that might be going for Viktor. He should leave Viktor to them,really, that was their job but…

But if Viktor was stupid enough to come here then he wasstupid enough to come alone. And if he was stupid enough to come here alonethen he was stupid enough to get himself killed by agents that didn’t evenrank, that didn’t even have bounties on their heads.

Yuuri wouldn’t restuntil he was sure Viktor was alive.

He doesn’t havetime to look down every alley, but he also doesn’t have a much better plan thanjust that. It’s useless. He can’t scan for blood without a flashlight andViktor isn’t going to be collapsed against a wall waiting for death. He’seither run or hidden himself. Yuuri searches three more alleyways before hestops.

He has to thinklike Viktor. On a crowded night like tonight, a good-looking foreigner with anarm covered in blood wasn’t going to go unnoticed. Running was suicide. SoViktor was hiding somewhere. But where? In a building? In a trashcan? Behind astack of plywood? This was useless!

Yuuri scans theback alleys, dismayed. His eyes fall on a ginger cat, skittering out of analleyway, spring in her step. She makes it a fair distance before she hazards aglance behind her, then continues on. Yuuri watches her go.

No. It couldn’t,could it?

Yuuri peeks aroundthe edge of the alleyway. It’s empty save for two large dumpsters and a smallstack of wooden pallets. Yuuri makes no sound as he enters the alley. His stepsare light and he approaches the closest dumpster slowly. There’s a trail ofsomething wet glittering faintly on the lid. It could be trash or water or ice,but Yuuri’s instincts tell him otherwise. He inhales, and throws open the lid.

Immediately, a handshoots out from the dark to grab him by his sweater and throw his head againstthe metal of the dumpster. Yuuri throws his hands out and catches himself. Thehand lets him go and winds back to punch him. Yuuri catches the punch, andpulls Viktor forward.

Viktor’s heademerges, but he doesn’t look anything like the Viktor Yuuri knows. This Viktoris wild-eyed and snarling, his hair a mess and nothing but the need to surviveon his mind. He looks like a crazed animal, snapping at Yuuri, and yankinghimself free.

He thinks I’m here to kill him, Yuuri realizes.

He lets Viktor goso he can grab him by the throat, choking him. Viktor flails against him, andwith the muscle to back up even one arm’s worth of punches, Yuuri is taking abeating.

“Stop it!” Yuurihisses. “Stop it! You’re making too much noise!”

Viktor snarls againand punches Yuuri hard enough that Yuuri’s glasses go flying.

Yuuri lets out asnarl of his own and frees one of his hands so that he can tangle his fingersin Viktor’s hair and yank it back. “Stop fucking around, Viktor. Shut upand cooperate if you want to live.”

The words sink intoViktor slowly. Too slowly. They’ve made a lot of noise rustling and Yuuko andTakeshi are on the lookout. Yuuri forcibly hauls Viktor out of the dumpster,Viktor hissing when he grabs at his bad shoulder. Yuuri sheds his jacket andpulls it around Viktor’s shoulders, slipping the hood over his head. Then hewraps an arm around Viktor’s shoulders and guides him into the throng of peopleon the main street. They keep to an easy but long stride.

“This is suicide,”Viktor hisses. “We’re sitting ducks.”

“Like I want tohear that from the guy who got himself shot in the open because he wasoverconfident,” Yuuri snaps. He really does not have the patience forViktor’s input right now. “Thanks to your ruckus, that alleyway and anywherenear it is dangerous.”

“I didn’t know itwas you.”

“And even though itwas, you thought I was there to kill you.”

“Well, it wouldn’tbe the first time.”

Yuuri wonders ifit’d be considered rude to dump a bleeding, injured man on a sidewalk and leavehim to die given that his mission had been to kill him in the first place.Really, it was a tossup between just shooting Viktor and redeeming himself orcontinuing to defy Hasetsu and rescue an ingrate. What kind of survivalinstincts did Viktor have, again?

“Real smart,getting petty with your only ally,” Yuuri says. He feels Viktor winding up fora comeback and cuts him off. “Oh please, don’t even try to tell me you didn’tcome alone. The only allies you could possibly have here are the ones that theKGB forced on you and only supposed to act if you tell them to.”

Viktor doesn’treply, which means Yuuri hit the nail on the head.

As if to recoversome of his dignity, Viktor says, “We should at least stick to thebackstreets—”

“And walk straightinto Yuu-chan and Takeshi-kun’s waiting arms?” Yuuri snorts. “They’re notactually stupid; they know that’s how you’ll be making your escape. Our onlychoice is to hide in plain sight. Minami-chan should be off the roof.”

“Should?��� Viktorasks, strained.

Yuuri almost wisheshe hadn’t thrown away his earpiece. But no, as nice as intel would be, heneeded complete deniability. His story is that he went for a walk to cool hishead after he was dismissed and tossed his earpiece to the side in hisirritation. He didn’t have a cellphone and for all he knew this was a normalmission without Viktor. It’s not like they had any way of contacting him.

But Viktor wasright. They needed to get off the main streets eventually. He crosses the roadand heads into another alleyway. Good luck; there’s an already rusting lock andloud machinery to cover up the sound of a gunshot. Yuuri pulls his pistol outfrom the back of his pants and blows the lock off. It’ll be bad if anyoneinside heard that, but Yuuri is running out of options for them.

Double luck; it’s astorage room. They’re surrounded by cardboard boxes and shelves of merchandise.He positions them by the door to the shop. If Yuuko and Takeshi tail them intothis room, it’ll be from the outside. Their shock at seeing Yuuri will probablygive him and Viktor enough time to escape through the shop. Probably. Ideally,they won’t have to run at all.

Yuuri shoves Viktordown behind a pile of boxes. Viktor goes down much easier than expected. Nowthat they’re hidden, Yuuri can turn all of his worry towards Viktor’s injury.

“Alright,” he says.“Let’s see it.”

It’s ugly. Into hispectoral muscle and shattering his collarbone for sure. Viktor can’t shrug hisshoulder without wincing and the blood has soaked through his undershirt.Thankfully, his overcoat looks clean from the outside and Yuuri’s jacket isonly bloody on the inside and along the edge.

“I’m going to helpyou take off your shirt,” Yuuri says, and starts to unbutton it.

“Ah, so forward,”Viktor says. “We’ve only just been reunited.”

“Must be nice to besuch a carefree guy,” Yuuri says. “Can’t even be serious after you’ve beenshot.”

“But that’s becauseI have my guardian angel Yuuri with me,” Viktor says.

“You’re notcharming me,” Yuuri says flatly. “I want you to understand how angry I am withyou.”

The smile that hadappeared on Viktor’s face fades and falls away as Yuuri pulls his shirt off. Hedoesn’t meet Yuuri’s eyes. “Go on then.”

“What if I hadn’tbeen me?” Yuuri says. “What if I was a hostile agent? Is that really how youwant your legacy to end? Shot dead in a dumpster without any grace, like asavage animal needing to be put down?”

“I assure you,”Viktor says smoothly. “It is much harder than it looks to appear graceful onceyou’ve been shot.”

“And whose fault isthat?” Yuuri snaps.

A muscle inViktor’s jaw moves.

Yuuri uses hisswitchblade to cut up Viktor’s shirt into long strips and binds his wound. It’swet enough to bleed through immediately, and Yuuri adds the bloodied edge offhis jacket to sop up the blood. “I’m not free of blame, either,” Yuuri says.“Half of my anger is directed at myself.”

He ties the cloth alittle too tight and Viktor winces. “We’re both being stupid about this,” Yuurisays. He takes a breath. “Somewhere along the way, we forgot other people wereinvolved in this game. You can’t waltz into my country without taking a bulletand I can’t walk out on my mission just because I’m irritated about my assignedposition. We both have to play by the rules.”

“I am angry,” Yuurisays, “because I am scared. You’re my idol, someone I’ve admired and loved forabout as long as I can remember. And I almost lost you tonight, in part becauseof me. I made you do something reckless and stupid.”

“You didn’t make medo anything,” Viktor says.

“No, but I’m stillthe reason,” Yuuri presses. “You’re not here because the KGB wanted you to be.You’re here because you asked to be put here. Because of me.”

“You can’t blameyourself for my mistakes,” Viktor says.

Yuuri huffs. “Don’tlet me off so easily. I’m blaming you for my mistakes. For example, how Isomehow thought it was a good idea to rescue you and defy the entirety ofHasetsu.”

“Well, I’mcertainly grateful,” Viktor says.

“Stop it,” Yuurisays. “You’re making me fond of you again. I’m trying to be mad.”

“You’re lovely whenyou’re mad,” Viktor says. “Turns me on a little, actually.”

“And just likethat, I’m no longer fond.”

Viktor laughs underhis breath and leans his head against Yuuri’s arm. “C’mon, let that tension outof your body. Too much tension makes an agent sloppy, didn’t they teach that toyou in school?”

Yuuri raises aneyebrow. “They taught me not to get myself shot.”

He helps Viktorinto his jacket and zips it up the front. Then he slides Viktor’s overcoat backon, being careful with his injured shoulder. With the coat adjusted and Yuuri’sjacket on underneath Viktor looked completely presentable and normal, if alittle unfashionable. He’d just have to be careful not to knock into anythingwith his arm.

“Ah,” Yuuri says.“I’m going to have to explain my jacket away somehow.”

“Say you thoughtyou had a tail and had to change clothing,” Viktor says. “It’ll explain theglasses too.”

Yuuri nods. “That’sgood,” he says. “If there are KGB operatives crawling around it’ll make yourdisappearance more likely.”

He pauses, thensighs. “It’s too good.”

“How so?” Viktor asks.

“I’m going to getaway with this,” Yuuri says. “I won’t be exposed as a traitor and you’re goingto live. It shouldn’t have worked out this well.”

“Perhaps some godis smiling on us,” Viktor suggests.

“Neither of usbelieve in a god with what we’ve seen,” Yuuri says. He pauses again. “We worktoo well together.”

“If I could remindyou of our argument when you rescued me…”

“You’re right,”Yuuri says, smiling. “We work well when you listen to me.”

“You could comewith me,” Viktor says.

Yuuri doesn’t breathe.That’s the issue, isn’t it? How easy it would be to dismiss his life in Hasetsuif only he could follow Viktor. He’d be out from under their thumb and Viktorwould be with him and he wouldn’t have to keep chasing him…it sounded like adream. And that was because it was a dream.

Yuuri isn’t stupid.To follow Viktor would mean trading his leash between masters, not freeing himof the chain. Under the KGB he’d still be a killer and trusted even less thanHasetsu trusted him now. Once you betrayed one organization, there was noreason you wouldn’t betray the new circle. And god knows that there’s no amountof money that can buy trust, especially when it came to spies.

“I couldn’t,” Yuurisays. “Don’t patronize me.”

Viktor smiles andpulls the coat tighter around him. “This is one-time deal, then?”

“Next time I maynot be so quick,” Yuuri says. “Don’t let there be a next time.”

“A pity,” Viktorsays. “I quite enjoyed our ceasefire.” He stands.

“I assume you havefriends that can locate you?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor nods.“You’ve bought me enough time. You better be heading back to your hotel, too.Don’t want to have your neck on the line for saving me; I couldn’t live withthe guilt.”

Yuuri doubts that.“I won’t be late,” he says. He stands up, too.

Something complicatedand emotional passes over Viktor’s face. His smile falls away and his eyebrowspull together. “Yuuri…” he says. “Thank you. This wasn’t…I know for a fact thatno one else outside the KGB would have done this for me. And I understand thelevel of personal risk this cost you. I…” He breaks off.

Yuuri doesn’t say youwould have done the same for me, because it isn’t true. Instead he says,“Don’t worry about it.”

“I think aboutyou,” Viktor says. “Constantly.”

Yuuri swallows. Hedoesn’t know what to do with that. “Do you muse about every man you miss achance to fuck?” He decides on.

“No,” Viktor says,and it means something.

Things are gettinga tad too dangerous. They are very, very alone and Viktor is being very, veryvulnerable. Yuuri always thought he’d be into Viktor leaning him over a desk,but now he’s thinking about pushing Viktor into a wall himself and the changein perspective is both heady and dizzying. Half of Yuuri wants to exploreViktor’s train of thought in great detail, but the other half knows this isprobably more dangerous than a gun pressed point blank against his sternum. Theright thing to do is run.

“You’re ViktorNikiforov,” Yuuri says. “You’ll figure it out.”

Viktor comes backinto himself. “Will I see you again?” He asks, putting on the drama.

“There’s achampionship in Rome, isn’t there?” Yuuri says. “I’ll see you around.”

He leaves first,taking the long way back to his hotel. His last glimpse of Viktor is the curlof his lip in a grin that says he’ll be there.

Of course, onceYuuri gets back to the hotel, short one jacket and most of his higher cognitivefunctions, he’s bombarded by his companions, his cheekiness forgotten. Minami,despite her short stature, is the biggest thing in the room, swinging her armsand gesturing how she spotted and shot Viktor. Phichit is on Yuuri like anoctopus, arm around his shoulders and legs kicked up into his lap the momentYuuri sits on the bed, dazed by the excitement in the room. It’s Yuuko whothinks of Yuuri’s feelings, more in tune to him than any of his other friends.

“We didn’t gethim,” she assures Yuuri.

It takes all ofYuuri’s willpower to not let out a satisfied, I know. He manages ahalfway believable, “Huh?”

“Takeshi and I,”Yuuko says. “He got away. I know it’s not—” She bites her lip and looks around,but Minami is entertaining Takeshi and Phichit on her own. “I know it’s notwhat I’m supposed to say. I know I’m supposed to be disappointed. But I careabout you. I wanted you to know he’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Yuurisays, and means it. It’s one thing to be a rebel out of some kind ofworship-love and a fundamental hatred of your profession but another thingaltogether to rebel because you care about your friend’s feelings, especiallywhen you have a family on the line. The higher-ups could use his family againstYuuri, but Yuuko had Takeshi, too.

“Oh!” Yuuko says.“You didn’t walk around that bare, did you? Where’s your jacket?”

They swallow hisstory about feeling as if he were being tailed fairly easily. The KGB were goodand Yuuri was lacking backup; it made sense that he’d try to evade and returnto base the long way to avoid compromising their security.

And just like that,he gets away with it. Minako doesn’t contact them again and Phichit isdismissed after a few hours of monitoring cameras around Osaka. Viktor escapeswith Yuuri’s help and neither of them face major consequences for it. Itshouldn’t be possible.

But skating bycomes at a cost. It makes Yuuri think that maybe he’s cleverer than he thoughthe was. It makes him think that if he does it once, he can do it again. Andmore than anything, it makes him replay his conversation with Viktor over andover again, carving his words and his tones into his heart so that he’s neverfar from Yuuri’s mind, even more than before.

———————————

“Shoot,” Phichitsays. “And here I thought I might actually win gold.”

As always when he’sin the public eye, Viktor is accompanied by a veritable entourage ofphotographers and journalists, all dying to get the right shot of or scoop onthe living legend in ice skating. He smiles easy at his fans and walks like agod into the rink, offering a wink at his collection of admirers. He’s exactlythe type of famous that screams ‘celebrity playboy heartbreaker’ and if Yuurihad a brain in his head, he would have turned his nose up at Viktor years ago.

Alas, childhoodimpressions stick, and his love for Viktor never stopped flourishing even withthe string of lovers that wandered in and out of Viktor’s bedroom who were allmuch more beautiful and famous than Yuuri could hope to be.

“He looks good,”Yuuri grumbles. What can he say? It’s a pain to be in love.

Viktor’s wearing slacksand a navy-blue sweater that had no business looking as good as it did on him.He reminds Yuuri of the graduate student he had a crush on for a while back atuniversity except he’s Viktor, so like, eight times as hot. His skin andhair have a healthy shine and he waves to the crowd with his left arm as if hisshoulder hadn’t been shattered and bleeding three months ago.

“He looks healthy,”Minami mutters.

(Yuuri makes aneffort not to hold that gunshot against her since she was only doing her job,but considering her recent bout of bloodlust directed almost exclusively atViktor, it was getting tough. She was like a bloodhound trailing her mark untilshe was able to finally sink her teeth into its vulnerable neck.)

(And yet, she alsomanaged to be almost unbearably soft and adorable. Her ability to manage bothparts of her personality and endear herself to Yuuri was quite frankly,frightening.)

It was fine,it was all just fine. Yuuri would sulk and pine on his side of the greatdivide between Team Japan and Team Russia and it would be fine. At hisside, Phichit’s hair is slicked back and like Minami, he’s hiding a fancifulcostume under his sweats and team jacket. Off talking to Celestino, Yuuko isalready wearing makeup and her hair is pulled back into a clean ponytail,looking every part the Madonna of Hasetsu she was famed for.

This is where Yuuribelonged, among these people. Viktor’s world was a sparkling, too-brightfantasy land and he would be better off if he stopped remembering Viktoroffering to take him back to Russia. He belonged to late nightpizza-and-a-movie dates with Phichit, to ballet with Yuuko, to sparring withTakeshi, and to hair barrette makeovers with Minami. They were rough around theedges, but they were as close to a family as he was going to get in his line ofwork.

It’s almostunfortunate that Viktor catches Yuuri’s eye then, just when he’s about to turnback to his companions and leave Viktor alone. Viktor doesn’t just shoot Yuuria wink though—he stops altogether, holding Yuuri’s gaze and tilting his head asif to say, you were looking at me?

Stupid Viktor,Yuuri thinks, distantly. I’m always looking at you.

Viktor smilesslowly, sinfully. Oh, that smile was full of so much knowledge—ofhimself, of his charm, of Yuuri’s gaze and Yuuri’s desire for him. Yuuri feelshis cheeks heat up and he nearly looks away. But then Viktor blows him a littlekiss and he feels his stomach drop to his feet and then come rocketing back upinto his heart that throbs in response.

And then, as if itwere nothing, Viktor looks away and continues on his way.

Yuuri’s jaw drops.He watches Viktor walk away with his head held high, face morphing into ahalf-crazed smile. He huffs a laugh. He wouldn’t be Viktor if he didn’t keepsurprising Yuuri though, would he?

The one thing that keeps my blood pumping, that keepssurprising me, that reminds me I’m truly alive…

“Oh? That’s adangerous look,” Phichit says, slinging an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. Heleans in close. “What were our orders again? Non…non…”

“Non-fraternization,”Yuuri finishes for him. “I know, I know. I’m not going to try anything. I justwant to watch.”

“Good,” Phichitsays, scrubbing his head. “The last thing I want is for you to be in doghouseagain. If you want to interact with Viktor, why don’t you snatch the gold fromhim?”

Wasn’t that your goal? Yuuri wants to say, but he smiles. He appreciates Phichit’s nagging,though. It meant he was being looked after.

[sarazanmai]

Thoughts on the “Sailor Moon Crystal” English dub. Episode eight.

I always liked how they animated Venus’s awkward hair flip, like that’s reality

so hearing Johnny Yong Bosch voice Artemis is a little surreal because I can tell its him, but its at the same time very unlike how he voiced Ichigo or Vash or Kaneda or even how he voices Jonathan Joestar based on the clips I watched

and I mean that in a good way

I am pretty sure I said this when I posted the photo of my autograph from Johnny, but I didn’t even know he was playing Artemis until I saw the layout of prints we could purchase for him to sign (I was looking for one of Jonathan Joestar which they didn’t have surprisingly and then I went with Artemis once I saw it) since then I’ve been looking forward to hearing how he plays him

oh yeah Zoisite’s still here

Mamoru, my man, my dude, does she REALLY look like the princess from your dream?

anyway Mamo-chan out

Sailor Moon is totally fuck struck by Venus

gotta give Cherami Leigh big props because the way she voices Tome in MP100 is very different from how she’s voicing Venus

“so you’re really just a girl?” what else were you expecting?

the Minako/Artemis relationship is very important and I’m happy we’re getting a manga accurate Dream Arc for this reason

a long long time ago...

I can’t wait for the flashbacks to the Moon Kingdom to happen

seeing Minako be this serious is kinda funny given her actual personality

hearing Serenity say Endymion just feels good considering the Dic dub called them Princess Serena and Prince Darien

this is Mamoru’s reading spot

Toei did you really need to flashback to something we saw in the last episode?

“huh? you have something of mine? what on Earth could that be?” its your heart...

I’m here for concerned mother hen Luna

I just love the :3 face the cats always have

amnesia might be one of Naoko’s favorite plot devices

why don’t I see more Beryl cosplayers?

also Kunzite just sounds so extra and I love it

uh....okay so Kunzite can use Za Warudo now

same type of Stand?

dat running animation though

mmm dat neckline on Mamoru’s pjs though

I feel like Kunzite is always speaking into a megaphone

remember who you are Kunzite...

no really please remember

“enough with the sentiment, its time to DIE”

Tuxedo Mask will always be there to catch you when you fall

and when you need a confusing monologue about the beauty in a young maid’s heart

smooch

have you ever noticed that shonen anime always try to avoid showing kisses? even ones between hetero couples? like damn what cowards

so Kunzite’s pose when he does his attack just looks like Vegeta’s Big Bang Attack only less stupid because he’s not a five foot nothing troll doll

two episodes in a row where Tuxedo Mask is harmed by one of the Shitennou, very sad

tune in next time where our incredibly mysterious princess is revealed and you’ll never guess who it is!